Show Me Where You Fit

by emst_h

Summary:

When the ideal prank goes perfectly wrong, Liv Potter finds herself thrust 20 years into a future that is eerily familiar to the past she left behind. With a Dark Lord on the rise a second time and little certainty that a return to her time is possible, Liv must decide how to make her time in the present matter and to what lengths she will go to protect those she loves the most, in the present OR past.

//

A time travel AU fic.

**Fic on hiatus. Will be continued**

Chapter 1

You’re on your own
In a world you’ve grown

And your friends are gone
And your friends won’t come
So show me where you fit

 

June 17, 1976  

Liv Potter cast a quick Tempus charm and watched as an image hovered above her face: 1 AM. Perfect, they won’t expect a thing. She sat up in bed and tucked a strand of her inky-black hair behind her pearl-studded ear. A yawn escaped her mouth as she stretched her arms over her head. She had stayed up late for the past two nights, spending hours planning retaliation for the awful bullying her closest friend had experienced earlier in the week—at the hands of her brother James Potter and his marauding friends, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. Her brother had crossed a line, and he had dragged his friends with him. Since neither the Gryffindor’s Head of House nor the school’s Headmaster had taken any action, Liv decided it was up to her to defend her friend and teach them a lesson. She would best the Marauders at their own game—the Slytherin way. 

She flicked her wand to open the silver and green hangings draped around her four-poster bed, the fabric rustling softly. She paused before exiting, straining her ear to hear any sound or movement. The only noise she picked up was the quiet snores behind her dormmates’ bed hangings and the water from the Black Lake, which lapped against the dormitory window, creating a soothing rhythm.  

Her fluffy duvet wrapped around her body, teasing her to stay in bed, but she slowly pushed it aside and slid off the edge. A blast of cool air hit her body as she stood up from her cozy bed, making her shiver in her T-shirt and jean shorts. Tiptoeing across the room to her desk, she grabbed the muggle sweatshirt hanging haphazardly over the chair and picked up her leather bag on the ground, which leaned against one of the chair’s legs. She was glad that she had remained in her after-class clothing instead of changing into her pajamas—better to avoid any chance of waking up her dormmates with extra movement. A noise from one of the beds caused her to freeze in her tracks. Her roommate mumbled something incoherently in their sleep and rolled over. She listened for any more movement before she continued towards the door. After no other sound or disturbance happened, she spelled the bed hangings closed and rushed out of the room. 

The Slytherin common room was thankfully empty when she descended the stairs from the dormitory. While her eyes scanned the dark space, she let out the breath she had been holding in. A roaring fire was alive in the marble fireplace; its flames danced across the room in shadows. Liv walked to the black leather couches in front of the fire and set her bag down on a cushion to free up her arms so she could throw on the sweatshirt. As she tugged the hem down with one hand, she unzipped the bag with the other to double-check that the catalyst for the prank remained where she placed it.  

She grabbed her wand from the back of her jeans shorts pocket and pointed it at the bag’s opening. “Accio Time Disc,” she said lowly. A small, silver glass disc flew up and out of the bag, landing in her upturned palm.  

Liv glanced at the shiny metal, catching her amber eyes in the reflection. The weight of the disc was light, but it felt heavy in her hand. Silver metal encased half of the oval object—the other half in transparent glass. She held the object against the firelight and watched as small gems and sand sifted through it. It was a curious item—its magic had called to her when she had found it during Easter hols while at home in Potter Manor.  

Her father, Fleamont, worked as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. He often brought various objects home for continued research. Her mother, Euphemia, scolded her father as he was not a cautious man and tended to leave his objects out in the open around the manor, not confining them or his research to his study. After many years of scolding and object disappearances, thanks to her mother’s perfected vanishing charm, her father realized that confining his research to the study was their household's best course of action. Although protection wards locked down the room, Liv could easily break them down by the time she was in her third year at Hogwarts. On many occasions, Liv would take refuge in her father’s workspace, avoiding Jamie—as she liked to call her brother—and his band of misfits. Her father’s study was on the opposite wing of the manor, where most of the family spent time together and gathered, giving her time alone as the group rarely ventured into that wing.  

On the day she discovered the magical object, James and his mates decided it would be hilarious to enchant all her shirts into bikini tops. Sirius could barely contain his smirk as he watched her narrowed eyes shoot daggers at him. At least Remus and Peter had the decency to look embarrassed and had begged for her mercy. Liv was a Slytherin, and she would reign down retribution when the time was right, so instead, she had left them in a whirl of fury and camped out in her father’s study to control her anger.

The disc-looking object had sat on her father's desk next to an open notebook, the sands and gems shimmering, drawing her in. She had scanned his handwritten notes and observed the sketch. From what her father had documented—the object was a portkey with a time turner component if activated. The original creator illegally made multiple ‘Time Discs’—its patented name—and was imprisoned in Azkaban for his apparent treachery. Time turners were rare, and since time was fickle and should not be meddled with, using them outside of Ministry approval was unlawful—and adding a portkey element to the time turner was unforgivable.  

Regrettably, she had left the Time Disc behind when she returned to Hogwarts, but when the idea of the prank came to her the previous day, she knew it would be the perfect device to set the whole plan in motion.  

She had called her house-elf, Flora, to her dormitory and asked that the elf bring the device from her father’s study to her. Flora had been hesitant but did as her mistress requested. The small elf had warned her that activating the device would require more concentration than just saying Portus and that she had to focus on the date and time she wanted to travel to, even if it was within seconds and of where she wanted to be. She had asked Flora how she knew, but her feisty elf had just shaken her head and disapparated to the manor, utter disappointment weighing her large ears down as she disappeared.  

Liv took one last look at the Time Disc and tossed it back into her bag. She slung the long strap over her shoulder and was about to make her way toward the oversized door that opened to the Dungeons when she looked down at her feet and groaned—she had forgotten her trainers back in the dormitory. She blew out a breath and then shrugged. At least her feet were clad in soft socks—she couldn’t risk returning to her dorm without someone noticing. 

“Forgetting something?” A low chuckle startled Liv. The sound came from the mezzanine where the common room study nooks were situated. 

She lifted her gaze toward the familiar, warm voice and smirked. “Regulus Black, you’re supposed to be sleeping. What are you doing out of bed? Worried about me?” 

“He is worried; I am ensuring that neither of you get caught out of the dorms after curfew.” A silky but strained voice answered her.  

Her two closest friends casually left the shadows of the bookcases and walked to the railing that overlooked the common room. Both leaned against the dark wood. Severus Snape gave her a pointed look while Regulus offered a rare smile.  

Liv loved Regulus’s smile—it was warm, genuine, contagious, and a gesture he rarely shared outside their small friends’ group. His black, wavy hair fell artfully over his face while his deep-set eyes bore into hers. Flecks of silver within grey shimmered in amusement at her predicament.  

“May have left my trainers under the desk in my room.” She found herself returning his warmth with a small smile of her own. 

Severus sighed languidly and slowly descended the stairs to the common room’s main level, where Liv stood. Regulus followed. 

“I suppose I can’t talk you out of this sophomoric prank, Livinia?” Severus stood across from her by the fire, arms crossed.  

Liv shuddered at her given name. 

“She hates when you call her that.” Regulus gave her a sympathetic look as he came up next to her and stood, shoulders touching. He brought his hands from behind his back and held up a pair of her trainers. 

“How?” Her eyes brightened in surprise. “You know what, I’m not going to ask—thank you.” She stood on her tiptoes and gently placed a light peck on Regulus’ cheek.  

His face immediately flushed pink. “It was nothing, really—I just know you, Liv.” 

Liv held Regulus’ arm for balance as she slid into her trainers and spelled them tied. Regulus looked down at her and cleared his throat.  

She turned to Severus and answered his question. “Sev, my brother and Regulus’ deserve a taste of their own medicine.” His obsidian eyes looked at her apprehensively. “Ugh, don’t give me that face—you want it just as badly as Reg and I do. They were awful to you. And they never let up. We can’t let it go unpunished—as a matter of principle.” 

All three friends paused a moment, remembering the previous day when both James and Sirius accosted Severus after their Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. Both boys had taunted him, sent hexes his way to cleanse his mouth, took his wand, and had turned him upside down in front of the entire school at Black Lake. Regulus and she had interfered, but neither sibling listened to reason—they were too late, anyway, as the damage had been done when Severus called the girl he loved a mudblood.  

There was a long history of vitriol between Severus and the four Marauders, something which started on the first day of their First Year at Platform 9 ¾. James had knocked over Lily Evans at the platform in a rush to board the train. Lily was Severus’ best friend from home, and she quickly became an infatuation of her brother’s. Severus never forgave James for knocking her over, and James never forgave Severus for being one of Lily’s closest friends. To her credit, Lily remained friends with Severus until that fateful day.

She was sure James basked in Lily ‘finally seeing reason at what a git Severus was’—but she knew Severus never meant what he said. He loved Lily with everything he had; however, being in Slytherin with pure-blood politics was complex for a half-blood like Severus. If he wanted to blend in with a den of snakes, he had to go the extra mile, even if it meant frustratingly making an arse out of himself.

They encouraged Severus to apologize to Lily, but she refused to acknowledge him.  

Severus seemed to turn into himself as he remembered what he lost, but Regulus pulled his close friend out of his thoughts. “Slytherins take care of their own.” 

Liv grabbed Severus’ hand and squeezed it. He needed to know that she and Regulus would never abandon their friendship. 

Severus sighed again, something he often did, but she swore she saw a slight twitch of his mouth in appreciation of his friends. 

“Fine,” Severus huffed, “but let’s go over the details again.” 

She wanted to object, but refrained. “Alright. Hurry though, I’m wasting time talking with you lot,” she teased. 

Severus raised an eyebrow in her direction. “Time Disc? You have it?” 

“Yes, obviously .” She tried to mimic Severus’ unbothered tone, to which he rolled his eyes. She patted the side of her bag where the Time Disc sat. 

“Amusing,” he drawled. “I observed you looking at the device earlier. Please tell me if you remember how to activate it.” 

She nodded, black curtain bangs falling into her face. “Point my wand and say Portus et Tempus —then concentrate on Potter Manor and the exact room I want the berks to wind up in.” 

Regulus chuckled at the descriptor. Severus merely rolled his eyes. 

“And we know for a fact your parents aren't residing at the manor?" asked Regulus as he walked up the main stairwell toward the common room exit. 

Liv and Severus followed his lead.  

“Yes, they are on the continent until the end of term, and we arrive home from Hogwarts—which means the Floo is disabled, leaving only one way for Jamie and Sirius to return...” 

“The Night Bus.” Regulus finished. 

Both of her friends snorted at the thought of James and Sirius—pure-blood princes—taking the Night Bus back to Hogwarts. 

“And who are you transporting first?” Severus knew the answer as they had painstakingly reviewed the plan and perfected it, but Slytherins were thorough and knew that failure was not an option, so asking for the umpteenth time was necessary.  

“Sirius first, then Jamie. If I have enough time—Remus and Pete. They were idle and didn’t join in your mistreatment, so if I don’t get to them, I’m okay with it.”  

Regulus had a thoughtful expression on his face. “Sometimes I think being idle is worse.”  

Severus hummed in agreement.  

Liv smiled internally, remembering why her friendship with Regulus and Severus was important to her. Besides being beyond brilliant in their studies and sharing the same dark humor which she appreciated, both boys had a deep understanding of what friendship meant, of the difference and nuance between action and inaction, between right and wrong, and when morally grey was necessary. They always did what was right for those they loved, albeit sometimes quietly, as Slytherins—an unusual characteristic for their House.  

When they reached the common room exit, she turned her back to it and faced her friends. She rested her hand on the leather bag’s strap and took a deep breath. 

“You have the Gryffindor password?” Regulus asked quietly. He looked at her worriedly.  

She offered a reassuring smirk. Her brother had given it to her easily over breakfast, never thinking she might abuse it. “Oh, yes, I do.” 

Severus grunted at the look of glee on his best friend's face. “As the muggles say: pure evil .” 

"Taking that as a compliment, Sev,” she said, grinning.  

"As you should,” he agreed. 

Regulus fidgeted with the sleeve of his jumper for a moment, then reached out and touched her shoulder, drawing her focus to him. She could tell he felt anxious about the prank, but he hid his anxiety behind carefully constructed walls. Even so, she knew her best friend and sensed his hesitation.  

“What’s wrong, Reg?” she asked calmly, trying to ignore how his hand seemed to burn through the layers covering her shoulder. 

Regulus momentarily stared into her amber eyes and rubbed his thumb along her hidden collarbone. “I can’t—can’t shake this feeling that something might go wrong with tonight’s prank.” He shifted from one foot to the other, his usual stoic demeanor lost to his anxious thought. 

“We’ve gone through the ins and outs of the prank—we’ve left nothing to chance.” She looked at him in earnest, trying to banish his worry. 

Severus interjected, too. “I absolutely trust Liv to see it through.” 

Regulus turned his head towards the fireplace and sighed. “As do I.” He turned back to her. “Just… return to us immediately after the prank is done.” 

“Of course.” She sent him a reassuring smile. “If you’re truly worried, Reg, I’ll only send Sirius and James. I’ll leave Remus and Peter to worry about their better halves.” At the slight jest, Regulus inhaled slowly and sent a nod. “Alright boys, time to exact our revenge.” 

Severus finally gave her a genuine smile and nodded his head at Regulus. “I’ll wait for you by the fire.” He walked away, leaving Regulus and her at the door. 

A beat of silence passed between the pair before each spoke. 

“I guess I’ll—” 

“Liv be—” 

They both laughed, a bit awkward.  

Regulus brushed away strands of hair that had fallen into his eyes, then took Liv’s hands in his, entwining their fingers. She felt the spark of magic that always seemed to pass between them whenever their skin touched. His thumb absentmindedly sought the pearl bracelet that hung around her wrist, a gift he had given her over Christmas hols. Black family protection magic imbued the bracelet, alleviating some of his worry.  

She glanced down at her wrist, where their skin connected. She reveled in the feel of Regulus’ thumb and the bracelet’s magical signature, which wrapped around her own magic. 

“I’m glad you’re wearing it,” he whispered as he rotated each pearl with his thumb until he felt the small snake charm that clasped the string of pearls together.  

When he gave her the bracelet, he worried she would not understand the significance. Marriage contracts and betrothal gifts were common among pure-blood society. Parents sought out contracts between the pure-blood families, hoping to finalize one by their child’s sixth year at Hogwarts. This allowed the couple two years to get to know one another before a magical wedding took place after graduation. Liv had understood the bracelet’s significance. He should have known she would. She was a pure-blood witch, after all—the Potters, although not Sacred 28, were descendants of the Peverells, and they followed pure-blood customs, too. She had happily accepted his gesture, cementing the beginning of their courtship. 

It had taken Regulus four years to realize that Liv was the witch he desired to build a life. He may only be 15, but the way his magic sought hers every time he entered a room was all the proof he needed to pursue his best friend. She was his fate, his destiny. He would work his entire life to be good enough for her and make her endlessly happy. 

“Be careful, yeah?” He held her gaze, and her world seemed to pause. His eyes were a beautiful, stormy grey that threatened to swallow her whole. Always intense and brooding, she knew that she was the calm to his storm and that she would weather any storm with him because he truly meant everything to her. At 16, she knew Regulus Black was her other half and equal in every way. Their friendship had blossomed into admiration, and that admiration was quickly turning into a deep love. 

“I’ll be careful,” she promised.  

Regulus wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tight against his body. Liv rested her head on his chest and inhaled deeply. Her senses met the comforting smell that was purely Regulus: gourmands, Earl Grey, broom polish, and mint. 

She removed herself from his arms and stood on her toes, gently placing a soft kiss on his mouth. “Be back soon.” 

She watched as the corners of his lips turned up and how he absentmindedly brought his fingers to the ghost of where her lips had been. She opened the door, glanced over her shoulder one last time, and stepped into the Dungeons. 

 

Liv cast a low Lumos , lighting the tip of her wand as she began her ascent to the Gryffindor tower. She avoided the main halls and corridors when she could, taking the memorized shortcuts James had shown her on his Marauder's Map. The map was a fascinating piece of magic, and it was one she knew Remus had been heavily a part of. James, Sirius, and Peter were not known for their studious natures, and since the map took expert-level charms, it had to be Remus.  

As she climbed closer to her destination, she thanked her lucky stars that the halls were extremely quiet and that Mr. Filch was not prowling about outside after hours in search of students. 

Gryffindor tower came into view in no time—and soon enough, she stood in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. She cleared her throat, and the painting narrowed its eyes, glancing at her lit wand. 

“Password,” the Fat Lady requested. 

“Grata Domum,” she spoke clearly. She stifled a smirk behind her hand—thanking Merlin that James was gullible enough to give her the Gryffindor password. He probably assumed she would use it in case of an emergency, but he should have known that his Slytherin sister would use it when it was advantageous. Besides, if her brother were in her shoes and the roles reversed, he would abuse it, too. 

The Fat Lady arched a surprised brow but swung the door open.  

She stepped through the frame and entered a small but warm common room. She whispered Nox, extinguishing her wand. Red and golds, colorful tapestries, and mismatched furniture filled the space she had stepped into. It was quiet, much like the Slytherin common room, with a roaring fire still lit in the main fireplace. She wanted to look around more and take in the Gryffindor home that the Sorting Hat had almost placed her in—but time was limited, and she had to make it to her brother’s dorm.  

Using her wand, she cast a disillusionment charm over herself. A shiver ran up her spine as she felt the magic flow over her body, making her invisible. Once she knew the charm was set, she carefully made her way toward the spiral staircase on the left. She climbed the stone steps until she reached the fifth-year dormitory and silently spelled the door open.  

As she stepped through into the room, her ears were immediately met with light snores and the sound of a cat purring. She prayed the cat would not wake up and let his owner know of her presence. She paused and then slowly closed the dormitory door. Her eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. She had been in James’ dorm before, but it had been a while since she enjoyed time in the Marauder’s sanctuary. Five standard poster beds were situated in a semi-arc. If she remembered correctly, Sirius’ bed was second from the right. Stealthily, she crossed the distance to his four-poster bed and pulled back one of the curtains. She peeked her head in and smiled—Sirius was sound asleep. 

So as not to disturb him, she carefully climbed onto the bottom of the bed, ensuring not to sit on his feet or legs or shift the mattress. Once she felt situated, she drew the hanging closed and took a few deep breaths. She thought Sirius would be as careless sleeping as he was in his waking hours, but his face looked pained, worry wrinkles etched across his forehead. He moaned once or twice, jerking in his sleep. She did not want to make the connection, but Regulus often slept similarly. A part of her wanted to smooth out the worry across his forehead, but she hesitated. She was not there to comfort her betrothed’s older brother—she was here to exact revenge. She shook her head, tucking the longer parts of her bangs behind her ear, and situated her leather bag in her lap.  

“Accio Time Disc,” Liv whispered. Like before, the disc landed gently in her palm. 

She set the disc on Sirius’ chest and pointed her wand at it. “ Portus et Tempus —Potter Manor,” she said. She channeled her mind to focus on James’ room: four walls covered in quidditch and muggle band posters, the shaggy maroon carpet, the queen-sized bed with deep-blue hangings, the stuffed hippogriff that he hid when his friends came over, the desk with moving photos of their childhood, the smell of boy with a cleansing charm to mask it. 

The disc began to glow while the gems and sand swirled around one another. She shifted uncomfortably at the edge of the bed, making sure not to touch Sirius. She watched, so utterly transfixed by the disc’s whirled movements that she did not notice a hand reach for her wand. As soon as she felt her wand bend, she lost her focus. The disillusionment hiding her body and face fell as her eyes grew wide. Oh shite , she thought. 

“Potter?” Sirius raised his head, lifting his body to rest on the back of his forearms. His voice was scratchy and deep from sleep, and Liv shivered at the sound. His hand remained grasped on her wand as the other rubbed the sleep from his eyes. The Time Disc slid down the covers and stopped on his abdomen. “What… What are you doing here?”  

“Damnit, Sirius! You’ve broken my concentration!” she whispered aggressively. Panic and a tinge of excitement took over as the sand and gems in the disc began to whirl faster. She yanked her wand out of his grasp and pointed it back at the Time Disc, refocusing on the destination. 

He looked at her, startled, but then smirked. “You could have just told me how you felt instead of sneaking up on me in the middle of the night, love.”  

“Shut it, Black,” she hissed. “As if I would ever sneak up on you for the reason you’re alluding to.” 

His smirk grew into a broad smile, so in irritation, she sent a smirk of her own. He had missed the Time Disc resting against his waist and was in for a rude awakening. 

Unfortunately, the glow from the Time Disc became so bright that it illuminated the space within Sirius’ hangings with a blinding white light. 

“The fuck?” He scrambled in his bed, squinting, and tried to find the origin of the light.  

She sucked on her teeth while making a move to get out of his bed from behind the hangings. Any moment now, Sirius would disappear to the manor.  

He reached through the blinding light and caught her wrist in his hand before she could exit. 

“Siri, let go of my wrist!” She used the childhood nickname she and Regulus had given him, hoping he would listen. She tried twisting her arm from his grasp, but it was useless. He had a vice-like grip and was not letting go. 

“What are you playing at, Liv?” Heat spread across his cheeks in confusion, his voice getting progressively louder. He blindly pulled her to him so fast and with such force that she felt the Time Disc shatter between them. 

Shards of glass dug into her abdomen, and she winced in pain. Well, that was not part of the plan , she thought sarcastically.  

Sirius immediately let her go when he heard her wince. “Shit, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Livvie—” He used his nickname for her, and it turned something tight in her chest. 

She looked down and noticed that her sweatshirt and top had ridden up in her jostle with him, letting her mid-section take the brunt of the disc’s break. 

Sirius’ eyes grew big as he watched a glow spread across Liv’s skin. She noticed the look of shock on his face and looked down at her own skin. The sand and gems covered her stomach, setting into the small nicks across her flesh from where the glass shards had cut her. It seemed as if she was lighting up from the inside. This was not good. She had no idea what would happen if the Time Disc broke mid-portus and covered a person. 

The glow grew into streams of light that poured out of her skin.  

“Oh gods… Siri–” she managed to let out before she became light-headed. 

The pair locked eyes, and sheer panic took over their expressions. Liv’s form began to waver and flicker in and out of existence in front of Sirius.  

“Liv… no, no, no... fuck!” Sirius desperately reached for her, but his grasp met air. It was too late.  

Liv vanished before Sirius’ eyes with a loud crack, leaving him alone in complete darkness. 

 

Notes:

Title inspired by James Blake's song: Retrograde.

//

A/N: The rating is GE but most likely will change over time. Tags will be added when the rating changes. No beta, so mistakes are mine. This is an AU with original characters and mixed timelines.

Thanks for stopping by! This is my first full fic. Appreciate the read.

Edited: 6.06.24

Chapter 2

June 18, 1996 

A high-pitched shriek startled Liv into consciousness. She groggily wiped at her eyes, confused by the darkness surrounding her. She moved to sit up, her hands hitting a soft pillow. A warm, muscular body jerked from underneath her, and before she could gather her bearings, her body unceremoniously hit warm, hardwood floors. She groaned at the contact and swore under her breath. What just happened? Had someone pushed her off whatever she was resting on?

Slowly, she sat up and rested her arms on her knees, dropping her head between them and squeezing her eyes shut. Her entire body ached, and a throbbing in her head intensified as she sat, trying to collect her thoughts. Sweat dripped down her brow, plastering her black curtain bangs to her forehead. Her throat was excruciatingly dry, and she wished badly for a sip of water. 

Flashes of moments came rushing into her mind as she kept her eyes closed: her conversation with Regulus and Severus, Regulus’ quick goodbye, the Time Disc, Sirius, glowing… 

Liv’s eyes flew open, her gaze immediately glancing down at her body and arms—no glow. Relief flooded through her until a searing pain spread across her mid-section when she moved. She held her breath as she lifted her sweatshirt and winced. Looking down, she saw a multitude of gashes drying with blood. The wounds still shimmered on her abdomen. 

Before her eyes could adjust to the darkness, she heard feet shuffling, what sounded like covers being tossed, and the weight of mattresses shifting. She quickly pulled down her sweatshirt as her ears perked up. 

“What in the bloody hell!” A hoarse voice broke the silence and cut through the ringing in her ears. It came from the place directly above her seat on the floor. 

“Someone, turn on the lamps.” A clear, calm voice to the left of her made the request. “Ron, was that you who screamed?” 

A few snickers wafted through the space. She would have joined in their laughter if she were not so damned confused. 

“That wasn’t me!” the hoarse voice yelped unconvincingly. “But someone or something landed on top of me!” 

Laughter pierced the darkness, and the voice swore at them. “Haha, very funny, you gits. But really, I swore a body landed on me.” 

“Are you sure you weren’t having one of those dreams, mate?” A smooth voice jested. More laughs. 

A familiar, concerned voice spoke to her right. “You alright, mate?”  

The voice sounded like James. And Ron, who was Ron? Where was she? Getting over the initial shock of her fall, Liv forced her sore muscles to move and stood up from her seated position. She needed her wand for protection and to light the darkness so that she could see where in the hell she was. Instinctively, she reached for her Ash wand and panicked when it was not in her back pocket. It was still pitch dark around her, but she dropped to the floor, anyway, hands fumbling for her wand. She did not even want to think about the problem of a lost wand. How would she defend herself? Her wand was an extension of her magic—she needed it. She reached under what she thought was a bed and met socks, dust mites, and finally, her wand. Fingers curled around the cool, Ash wood, and she sighed in relief at the feel of the tiny runes etched around its handle. She thanked Merlin and any gods she could think of for not losing her wand in whatever messed up travel brought her to the unknown location. Once her wand was safely in her hand, she stood and whispered, “Lumos.”  

While her wand tip lit up, lamps around the room came to life, setting a stark hue against the darkness of the hour. She blinked twice as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. A large room focused into view. Had she portkeyed herself back to the Gryffindor dormitory? It felt cavernous compared to the length of the tower—an extension charm, no doubt. Her eyes swiftly took an inventory of what she saw: six beds with deep red and gold trimmed hangings, six desks piled with an assortment of books and trinkets, and six trunks with random pieces of clothing thrown over them. Worry slowly crept into her thoughts, causing a deep panic to settle into her chest. Something felt off. At best, her brother and his friends had found out about her prank and decided to get the best of her before she could act. At worst… nothing good came to mind. 

Eventually, her gaze landed on six shocked faces, all staring back at her with various confused expressions—faces that were unfamiliar and not whom she expected to see. She took several steps back to put some space between her and the beds. Was she in the Seventh-Year dormitory? But that could not be right as she knew all the Seventh-Year boys.  

A boy with mahogany-brown, shaggy hair and eyes as wide as saucers, unblinking, sat upright in the far bed to her left. He held the bed covers up to his chin as if trying to hide as much of himself as possible. A strange-looking plant sat on his bedside table. To his left was a tall, lanky boy with turquoise hair—a pair of beautiful, dark brown eyes squinted at her as if calculating her movements, trying to figure out if she was a threat. Two boys stood, wands pointed in her direction—one had a missing eyebrow, and the other had black, natural hair and dark skin. The boy with whom she landed on stood with his shoulders square, pajamas disheveled, and a deep blush matching his red hair spread across his freckled face. He looked affronted at her intrusion, and she could not blame him. Finally, she took in a lean boy with messy black hair that stood up on all ends and a face that almost matched her own. Seeing him standing there brought a flood of relief. 

“James?” she asked, happy to see her brother. She smiled weakly and slowly moved towards him, extinguishing her wand light with a quick Nox. “You prat—you knew about the prank! How did you find out? Did Regulus cave and let you in on my plan? You both pretend to hate one another, but I know a secret friendship when I see it.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “So much for thinking my prank was brilliant,” she mumbled. 

The boy she approached took a defensive step back, his legs hitting a trunk. He raised his wand expertly and pointed it at her chest. She stopped mid-movement in confusion and raised her hands to show that she was not a threat. Her head continued throbbing intensely, and it became difficult to focus on her brother. 

“Who—who are you? I’m not James, and I’m fairly certain I don’t know who Regulus is.” His voice was confused, but his defensive stance did not waiver. He pushed a pair of round glasses to the bridge of his nose, setting them higher on his face. 

Round glasses… her brother’s glasses were not round. James wore rectangular frames, occasionally the aviator style when he wanted to impress his friends. The more she observed the raven-haired boy’s features, the more she realized that the boy in front of her may not be her brother... but how? He looked just like James, except his nose was shorter, and his eyes were wrong—brilliant green met her amber ones. In fact, if she really thought about it, his shade of green was remarkably familiar to her brother’s paramour, Lily Evans. An odd, lightning bolt-shaped scar sat on his forehead above his brow—James did not have that scar. She knew every scar and cut on her brother’s body, most of which he got while playing with her as children or flying around on their brooms. 

A wave of dizziness washed over Liv, and her midsection throbbed again from the gashes. She must have fallen harder than she had thought. She stepped back to lean against a desk for support and accidentally knocked over a few books and quidditch gloves. The group of boys looked at the items strewn across the floor and then back to her face. 

“Alright, good one, gents.” A forced laugh escaped her lips as she turned to the boy she thought was her brother. “Jamie, you bested me—what can I say.” Her right hand moved to the bracelet on her left wrist, carefully threading the pearls through her fingers to ground herself. The entire situation she found herself in made her uneasy, but she continued. “I swiped an old Time Disc from Father’s study and had hoped to use it on you and Siri—transporting you both home, but there was a tussle, and the disc broke… something went incredibly wrong.

“Wait—Sirius, which one are you?” Her gaze landed on the red-haired boy. He startled as she shifted her focus to him. “It must be you. You were in his bed—well, your bed. Did you lot take Polyjuice position?” She glanced around at the six figures and then back to whom she thought was Sirius. “Merlin, the resemblance to the Prewett’s is uncanny. I don’t even want to know how you got one of the twin’s hairs. Sorry about falling on you, Siri. Right clumsy of me, but you grabbed my wrist and broke the disc!”

She kept moving the bracelet through her fingers, her heartbeats thumping loudly in her ears as all she received back were blank stares. “Remus...” She searched for the tallest boy in the room, and her gaze landed on surprised dark-brown eyes. She involuntarily took a step toward him. “You’re the only one in this group who could even passably brew Polyjuice.” 

There was a pause before the room broke out into an uneasy energy.  

The turquoise-haired boy crossed the room to whom Liv thought was her brother and Sirius. He spoke in hushed tones, but she could still hear him.  

“Did she just call me Remus?” 

“And pretty sure she asked for Sirius,” the James look-alike commented, his wand still aimed at her. The look he sent her way was less suspicious and more intrigued. Liv had a feeling he wanted to know how a random girl materialized in their dorm room.  

The Prewett-looking boy turned his head to the two boys who had spoken. “Mate, how does she know about your dad and your godfather?” His arms gesticulated wildly between the two. “She also mentioned my uncles. How does she even know about them? Maybe she’s one of them, a-a Death—”  

“Don’t even say those words in this dorm, Ron!” 

“And she called you James—you don’t think…” The turquoise head gave them both a meaningful look. 

“Guys, why would she ask for Sirius if he’s a wanted criminal?” A nervous voice broke their conversation. 

Multiple scoffs rang through the room.  

“Neville, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”  

The shaggy-haired boy melted into his covers. 

A voice with an Irish accent interjected. “One of us needs to leave and wake up McGonagall. I think she’s bleeding.” 

“Not yet! She doesn’t seem like a threat. Absolutely out of her mind, bloody mental, but not a threat.” 

“Ron, you’re just trying to avoid detention,” the dark-skinned boy laughed. 

“Why would McGonagall give us detention for something we didn’t start?” Neville asked. 

“Clearly, we all know that answer—" 

As their side conversation continued, the only thing Liv could focus on was a calendar at the far end of the wall that read July – 1996. Her legs shook, but she forced herself to move towards the calendar. As she moved, a sense of dread set in her bones. Heat crept up her body, and it seemed like the room had become 20 degrees warmer. There was no way in Merlin that it was 1996. Twenty years into the future? Absurd. No, if it were 1996, she would be an adult with children and adult responsibilities. No, she was in 1976 finishing her Fifth Year at Hogwarts. She was betrothed to a tall, dark-haired, brooding Black heir who had somehow carved out a place in her heart. She was heading into her Sixth Year with the intention of going into her N.E.W.Ts to hopefully become a trainee Unspeakable post-graduation. She stopped in front of the calendar and squinted at it. Her hand reached up and traced the year.  

The large dormitory room felt like it was caving in on her. Her breathing became shallow, and her heartbeat raced a mile a minute. The room quieted as the six boys watched the downward spiral unfold before them.

“No, no, no, no. This is not happening. This is—I don’t—I couldn’t have messed it up so badly. Fuck…” She faltered and leaped back like the calendar had stung her hand. She began to pace and mutter to herself. “If that’s not Jamie, and Siri is not here… but it’s the Gryffindor dormitory—what did I do?” The headache only seemed to intensify as she ran through her thoughts. Her fight or flight mode finally kicked into high gear—she had to find her way out of what was quickly becoming a nightmare.

“Where’s the Time Disc?” she shouted at the boys standing there helplessly. Shrugged shoulders and concerned looks were all she received. “Must have dropped it when I fell…” She turned around and raced to Sirius's—no Ron’s—bed, ignoring the six sets of eyes following her movements. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw one of the boys move toward her as if she were a wounded animal, but an arm shot out and stopped him. She threw back the covers and searched for the device. She shoved her hands under the mattress, in between the fitted sheets, and tossed pillows to the side. “It must be here! Where is it!” Her voice had gone up an octave in panic, and her hair began to spark on the ends. 

“Oi! That’s my bed you’re tossing!” The Sirius imposter stalked towards her, but the lanky boy with the calming presence stopped him. He, instead, carefully walked up to her and gently turned her around, keeping her in his grip.  

She looked straight into his worried gaze. Her mind could not take the paradoxes any longer. “Please tell me that’s Sirius—” her voice shook, and she pointed at who she now knew was Ron “—and why are Jamie’s eyes jewel green instead of hazel?” 

The boy hesitated but answered calmly. “That’s not Jamie, that’s Harry. And Sirius, well, he’s not in this dorm.”  

Harry wore a similar worried expression as the boy who had not yet let go of her arms. “Right, I’m getting McGonagall.” He did not wait for his dormmates’ reply and quickly left the room, letting the door slam behind him. 

“No—what—Merlin, my head hurts. And I can’t—I can’t—” She fell to the floor and landed awkwardly, taking the kind boy with her, his eyes widening in surprise. 

“Hey—hey, you need to take some deep breaths.” His clear voice cut through her own thoughts, and she nodded in agreement, closing her eyes. A cold sweat broke out along her entire body, and she shook from head to toe. Sanity seemed to slip from her grasp, so she reached for the pearl bracelet again and concentrated on his voice. “Four breaths in—good—now out for six counts.”  

Liv followed his direction and felt her heart rate slow down, but with it, the exhaustion she felt earlier seemed to intensify tenfold. Spots dotted the line of her vision and she fought to stay upright. 

“Is it really 1996?” she breathed. The slow nod of his head was all the confirmation she needed. Her palms dug into her eyes as shock finally took over. “Impossible. This must be a dream. A completely fucked up one!” He winced at her tone, but she did not care. “I need to leave—I need to get up or wake up or something!”  

She struggled and pushed herself off the floor, immediately regretting the decision. The room around her swayed. Her floor companion quickly moved to stand up as well. As he did, his hair changed colors from vibrant turquoise to a deep orange. She smiled at him, surprised by the change. Feeling slightly delusional, her hand reached up to his hair. “Incredible,” she whispered, eyes wide in appreciation. “Your voice—it’s very calming.” Her comments froze him mid-way as he stood, and at the same time, her vision tunneled.  

The last thing Liv remembered before passing out and hitting the hardwood floors was a pair of concerned, dark brown eyes with gold flecks burning into hers. 

 

Notes:

Thanks for reading!

//

No beta. Mistakes are mine.

Edited: 10.15.24

Chapter 3

June 19, 1996   

Darkness. It was all that Liv sensed around her. She felt weightless as if she had been drifting in and out of consciousness to a point where she could not account for time or anything tangible. But there were sounds. In moments of wakefulness, voices seeped through the darkness, coming across in muted tones with a fuzzy quality to them. They were soft, muffled, and unthreatening. Every part of her body ached, too. The mere thought of moving an arm or lifting her head or any limb seemed impossible, so she remained in the darkness, listening to barely-there whispers, uncaring of how long she had been in that state. Had it been hours? A Day? Weeks? She did not know. Truthfully, she would rather give in to the darkness because she had an innate feeling that something was wrong, and she was not sure she wanted to face whatever lay on the other side of the dark. 

She could not fight the inevitable, though, no matter how much she wanted to float in the darkness. A rushing sound invaded her ears as her consciousness swam to the top of the murkiness. She blinked several times before her eyes opened. An immediate brightness blinded her. Her eyes burned after so much darkness, causing them to squint so that she could slowly adjust to her surroundings. Blurred shapes eventually took form as she focused on the ceiling above her. A milky-colored glass light, flush against the ceiling, came into view; cracks ran across the ceiling’s plaster. 

The mattress under her was firm, not plush. The bedsheets, although expensive, scratched against her skin. Liv tried sitting up, but it felt useless. Her muscles strained and refused to cooperate with her brain. She let out a frustrated groan, fighting the urge to scream. It did not matter, though; her throat was unbearably dry, so she could not scream even if she tried. Gathering all her strength, she pushed herself up, her weight resting on her elbows. She shimmied further up the bed and let her back thud against a wooden headboard. A sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. She closed her eyes and breathed heavily for a few minutes, catching her breath from the small excursion. It took all her energy to situate herself into an upright position. 

“If my body is this feeble, what in the hell happened?” she wondered aloud. 

She winced as she turned to look towards a tall French window at the opposite end of the room. Her mid-section felt unusually sore. She glanced downward, surprised that she wore a well-loved band T-shirt. Her favorite muggle band—Led Zeppelin. She appreciated its softness as it lay against her skin. The fabric had a recognizable scent that she could not place, adding to her confusion. She lifted the bottom of the shirt and inhaled sharply—there were bandages over her abdomen, and she blanched at the sight. She tried recalling an event that would require bandages, but her mind met blankness. She carefully brushed the gauze with her fingertips. The bandages felt fresh as if someone had recently changed them. A sharp pain shot through her mid-section as she grazed a tender spot. She cursed, dropping the shirt, and let the back of her head hit the headboard. 

The room was bathed in light that filtered through the window, and sun rays shone through the opening between two heavily embroidered curtain panels. Warmth spread across her face and the deep blue duvet that covered her legs. The room felt vaguely familiar, despite her never having been in it before. She didn't recognize the dark grey wallpaper or the scenic painting tucked into the corner, with its painted grass blades and tree branches swaying in the wind. Yet, the magical atmosphere of the room seemed to embrace her presence.

Her eyes did a quick sweep, trying to note everything around her. The room was small. A chest of drawers sat across from her position in the four-poster bed, a small writing desk with a quill and parchment situated in front of the window, a floor-length mirror, dried flowers in a vase on the chest of drawers, all in a dark wood. The room lacked personal touches or any belongings which meant that she was most likely in a guest accommodation, and the dried flowers indicated its absence of use. 

Waves of anxiety rolled over her as realization struck—she was not at Hogwarts. Shouldn’t she be at school? Students did not leave the castle outside of Hogsmeade days unless explicitly requested by a parental figure. Her parents would never pull her or her brother out of school. She also had a vague feeling that she was supposed to be taking her O.W.Ls or at least finishing them. She would never leave the castle during the most important tests of her life. Nothing made sense. She took a few deep, calming breaths. You don’t know if you missed the remainder of your O.W.Ls, you crazy bint, she thought to herself. 

Next to the bedside table sat a large glass of water. Liv abruptly reached for it and brought it to her lips. Before she took a sip, she sniffed the water—no scent, so it was most likely safe to drink. Her hand shook a little as the cool liquid touched her tongue, her thirst hitting her with full force. She gulped down half of the glass’ contents, droplets falling down her chin which she quickly wiped away with the back of her hand. A thought occurred to her as she set the glass back down: her wand was missing. In fact, she could not recall the last time she had seen it. She felt incomplete without the Ash wood in her hand or secure against her body. But even as her eyes tensely scanned the room, there was no sign of it. And what was even more odd was that none of her typical personal belongings were visible either, including her leather bag, which never left her side. 

In a sudden panic, her eyes dropped to her wrist. She sighed when she saw the pearl bracelet snuggly clasped around its thin width. Her fingers brushed along the snake clasp which held the string of pearls together. She hated admitting it, but she often found herself unconsciously playing with the beads, letting the feel of their magic wrap around her. Perhaps it was becoming a coping mechanism. She was sure there were healers at the Janus Thickey ward who would love to study that. 

Adrenaline swiftly coursed through her body—she needed a plan. First, exit the bed no matter how exhausted and hurt her body felt. Then, look around the room for any clues that could shed light on her location—she did not feel in danger, but one never knew. Third, find a makeshift weapon if she cannot locate her wand—first-year D.A.D.A taught her never to go into the unknown without some form of protection. And finally, with caution, leave the room to explore or escape—escape seemed a bit exaggerated, but she had just woken up, and anything was possible. 

It took a few tries, but Liv managed to hoist herself up and out of bed. A red rash broke out along her chest, the band T drenched from the exertion. She steadied herself against the nightstand, finding footing and equilibrium. A laugh escaped her lips as she gazed down at her feet: no shoes. Something about not having shoes was funny, but she could not pinpoint why. Mentally shrugging, she tugged the loose pajama pants that she wore higher on her waist. 

“Out of bed—check. Time to look around,” she whispered to herself. 

Her sock-covered feet padded against hardwood as she made her way to the chest of drawers. A light amount of dust covered the furniture and the flowers, resting in a tall vase. What would have been vibrant-colored petals were now muted blues and creams. She ran a finger along the grained wood, collecting the dust as she went. Searching through the drawers, she came up empty. The drawers held different linens and blankets, but nothing hinted as to where she was. She moved to the desk; the same layer of dust covered its surface. She hoped to find a muggle letter opener or scissors but only found disappointment when the desk was empty. The parchment on the desk was aged around the edges, and the ink well was dry. She supposed she could use the quill as a weapon if necessary. Frustration set in as she continued her search, her body heavy as she moved. She walked towards the window and decided to peek outside at the building’s surroundings. She hoped to discern her location. Why she had not checked the window first was beyond her. It must have been the exhaustion. 

She peered through the smudged glass, moving one of the curtain panels to the side. Rows of townhomes came into view—familiar facades with white stone and various shades of grey and brown bricks. Across from her direct view was a gated park. Its high stone fence surrounded the premises, but she could catch glimpses of the weeping willows, birch trees whose leaves stood tall, and the rows of her favorite flowers that made a winding path around the grounds. It was a park she had visited many times… with Regulus. She sucked in a quick breath—she was in London, at Grimmauld Place. Maybe that was why her magical core felt accepted in the small room. But that did not make sense. Why was she at Grimmauld? Her head began throbbing while she tried to piece everything together. She furrowed her brow in frustration. What had happened before now? It had to be serious, right? She wondered if Orion and Walburga Black were home. Surely, they had intentionally brought her to their home or, at the very minimum, were okay with her staying outside of school. Did Regulus know she was there? Perhaps if she called for Kreacher, the Black family house-elf, he could answer her questions and inform her future mother-in-law that she was awake. Kreacher was an ancient elf, often onery, but he had a soft spot for her as she was Regulus’ betrothed, and Regulus was his favorite Black family member, to the chagrin of Sirius. 

Before Liv could decide on a course of action, heavy footsteps and hushed voices echoed on the other side of the door. On instinct, she lunged for the quill and gripped the feathered end. The sudden movement elicited a groan as pain tore through her mid-section. She bit down on the inside of her cheek and hoped she had not re-opened any wounds. Although zapped of energy from looking around the room, she pushed herself to stand behind the door, ready for when it swung open. All her senses heightened as she waited for the inevitable knock. 

Her ears perked when the voices came closer. 

“I should speak to her first—we’re in my home, after all.” 

Liv let down her guard slightly as she heard the reference to ‘my home.’ Orion would have the answers she needed. Although, the voice did not sound like the current Head of House Black. The voice she heard was higher in pitch, and it had a raspy quality to it. 

“And extra wards around her room? Like she’s a prisoner? For Merlin’s sake, it’s a bit much,” the voice fumed. 

Definitely not Orion—his voice was void of any emotions. The voice that just spoke bled with them. Her grip on the quill tightened. 

“The wards are for her protection as much as yours, my boy,” a calm, mischievous voice replied. “She’s a powerful young witch. She’ll be in shock when she wakes up. Who knows what she’ll remember and how her magic will react to those memories.” 

She knew that voice—its familiarity a relief—and she sighed lowly. She sagged against the doorframe and set the quill down on the chest of drawers with a shaky hand. She had not realized her hands had been trembling. The voice had it wrong, however. She barely felt her magic, too exhausted to have any bouts of accidental magical reactions to memories she could not recall. 

“Come on, let’s give him time to talk with Liv.” A third voice sounded distant from the bedroom door—another wizard. There was a pause and some shuffling before he spoke again. “Professor, we’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.” 

Liv reached for the door to open it, but her fingers received a magical sting when she touched the handle. Right, the wards , she thought. She huffed and turned around. She made her way back to the full-size bed and sat on its edge. She counted to eleven until she watched the wards drop from the room in a shimmering ripple. There was a light rap on the door, and before she could answer, the Headmaster of Hogwarts stepped into the small space. 

 

“Headmaster?” Liv whispered. She eyed him warily.

Even though the familiar face sent a wave of relief through her, she was still apprehensive. Her Slytherin instincts warned her to be skeptical. Winding up at Grimmauld without memory of the incident itself was unnerving, but also, it was a known fact that the Blacks barely tolerated Albus Dumbledore. They accepted him as Headmaster because he was one of the most powerful wizards in the Wizarding World, but his politics left them seething in disgust. Walburga Black would rather take the Cruciatus herself than allow the muggle and muggle-born sympathizer into her sacred home. 

Also, something was different about Dumbledore. Warmth still radiated off and around him, and he had the ever-present twinkle behind his blue eyes. His robes were the same style with a deep hue that he often wore. But his face… his face looked tired, with more lines etched into it. And an abundance of silver filled out his auburn hair and beard as if it happened overnight. Liv decided that he looked older than when she had last seen him, as if his features had changed abruptly. Perhaps the natural lighting in the room played tricks on her eyes. She realized that she had been staring too long, and her gaze darted away from him down to her hands. 

“Miss Potter.” Dumbledore transfigured a wicker chair out of thin air and placed it across from where she sat. “How are you feeling? It looks as though some color has returned to your face.” He sat in the chair and sent her a caring smile. 

Those words made Liv realize she had not even glanced at her reflection in the room’s mirror, too occupied with figuring out what had happened. Her hands moved to her hair and noticed it was down, loosely hanging past her shoulders. Her fringe bangs matted to her forehead. 

“I-I’m unsure, honestly,” she answered. It was the truth. Overwhelmed would not even begin to describe the emotions whirling inside of her and the physical exhaustion she felt in her core. 

Dumbledore hummed and peered at her over his half-moon spectacles. He waited for her to continue. 

“Professor, what am I— why am I at Grimmauld?” 

“Ah, so you have deduced where you are.” He let out an amused chuckle. 

“I peeked out the window.” She shrugged. “I’ve been to Grimmauld numerous times but never ventured into this guest room. How long have I been out?” 

“A little more than a day,” he replied. 

She sighed in relief. She had not missed that much time, then. 

“What do you remember, Livinia?” 

Liv shrugged off the annoyance at hearing her full name. Instead, she closed her eyes and focused on her heartbeat. She cleared her mind, letting memories surface. What was the last thing she remembered before she woke up at Grimmauld? Everything was fuzzy, but she forced herself to concentrate. 

Images flooded her mind. A boy with turquoise hair and deep green eyes, six faces she did not recognize, the Gryffindor common room and dormitory, the confusion she felt at the unfamiliar surroundings, the calendar with the year 1996… She gasped. Her heart raced so fast that she thought she would pass out. She squeezed her eyes shut as her hands shook. Her fingers found her bracelet to steady the shaking, rotating the beads between them. She touched a pearl— this is a dream , she thought. She touched another pearl— I am not in the future. She touched a third pearl— I am in a dream … 

She focused on emptying her mind, not allowing emotions to cloud her thoughts. It was not easy to do in her state, but if she wanted answers, placing her emotions behind carefully constructed walls was a necessity. She was not a master at occluding, but she knew enough to get by. Now was not the time to become a blubbering Hufflepuff or reckless Gryffindor. A calm mask finally settled onto her face. She opened her eyes, clear in expression, and looked back at Dumbledore. 

“My dear, you look pale. Do you need a calming draught?” 

She shook her head once, remaining perfectly still as thoughts formed in her mind. “No, thank you, Professor. I do have questions, if you don’t mind?” Her voice came out slow and steady. 

“Of course. I will try and answer them as best as I can.” Dumbledore sent her a reassuring nod. 

“Alright, thank you.” She paused and resituated herself on the bed’s edge. “This is going to sound mental,” she mumbled under her breath and cleared her throat. “I-I traveled through time, didn’t I? To the future? Well, your present, but my future.” Her stomach dropped as she spoke those words. “I saw a calendar with the year 1996. It is—is it truly 1996?” Her eyes pleaded with her professor, hoping he would contradict her. 

Dumbledore sent her a sympathetic smile. “Indeed, Miss Potter, it is 1996.” 

Air whooshed out of Liv’s lungs. It felt as if someone had swept the proverbial carpet from under her feet. She took a shuddering breath and gestured for him to continue.  

“It appears with a bit of complex magic, you traveled twenty years forward. It is incredible, really.” His eyes twinkled. 

Liv balked at that statement. It was absolutely not incredible. “Forgive me, Professor, but I hardly think my time travel is an astonishing feat. It was reckless and only happened because of a ridiculous prank that went horribly wrong.” She suddenly felt agitated. Of all the stupid things she had done in her 16 years, this took the butterbeer cake. 

“Ah, yes, the prank.” Dumbledore ran his long fingers through his beard. 

She raised an eyebrow. “You know about the prank?” 

“Nothing that happens within the walls of Hogwarts escapes me, I’m afraid.” The corner of his lips turned up in a wry smile. 

Liv bit the inside of her cheek and fidgeted with the pearls. He knew about the prank—for Salazar’s sake, she was stupid to think her antics would go unnoticed. Although she supposed it did not matter now.  

A thought bubbled to the surface, which she could not ignore. Something felt off—she could feel it in her bones. Why was she at Grimmauld Place? And Dumbledore checking in on her personally? It did not make any sense. Shouldn’t she be in the Hogwarts’ infirmary with Madame Pomfrey? Or at St. Mungo’s, where Aurors awaited to question her and bring her into the Ministry for breaking the laws of time? A second thought emerged, too. If she was twenty years in the future, that meant her parents, brother, and friends were all twenty years older. She missed twenty years of their lives! She could never get those twenty years back. If she traveled from her past, that meant she had vanished from their lives in 1976. Had they worried and been beside themselves? Had they thought she left them intentionally? Did they think she was unalive?  

Multiple questions weighed heavily on her mind. Where were they now? What happened to them? Were they here at Grimmauld waiting to see her? Did the voices she heard in the hall belong to her family? And was Regulus here, at home? Regulus… Oh gods , she thought. Regulus had been waiting for her in the Slytherin common room, but she never returned.  

The emotional gravity of the situation became too much to process. Liv swayed on the bed, the room spinning in and out of focus. Dumbledore rose and carefully gripped her elbow. He helped ease her onto the bed in an upright position. 

“Here, drink this. It will help calm your nerves.” He uncorked a small vial of a blue liquid and handed it to her. “You’ve had quite a shock to your system.” 

She took the vial, brought it to her lips, and downed it in one gulp, grimacing at the taste. Immediately, her anxiety and nerves evaporated, and her breathing became steady. The calming draught worked its magic. 

With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore’s chair vanished. He sent her a serene smile and sat on the edge of the bed.  

“I won’t lie and tell you that things aren’t complicated. Time travel is a bit of a mystery, as you know. No one on record has traveled forward in time, only back, and only for a few hours. You’re the first.” He looked down at his robes and brushed away a piece of lint. “There will be an investigation by the Department of Mysteries, but until then, rest. The strenuous journey depleted your magical core, I’m afraid. Thus, the exhaustion you’re experiencing.” 

Liv nodded. She could feel her body wanting to fall back into the darkness. Dumbledore looked hesitant for a moment but continued. The twinkle in his eyes disappeared.  

“You’ve come at a precarious time, Miss Potter. Things are not as they seem in magical Britain. I would like to explain further, but it’s the end of the term, and I must return to Hogwarts. Without giving too much away, please trust that I have your safety and best interests at heart.” 

As skeptical as she felt by his words, Liv kept that feeling close to her chest. She was not beyond believing that her headmaster had her best interests at heart, but she knew to be wary of him from past experiences. He lived by his own set of rules and held prejudices against her friends and her House. It left a sour taste in her mouth for the man. 

“After you’ve rested, someone will check in and answer any more questions you have. For now, sleep. It will recharge your magical core.” 

Dumbledore gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and then turned to exit the room. As the door clicked behind him, Liv gave into the pull of darkness, letting sleep pull her under. 

 

Notes:

Thanks for sticking with this fic! Next chapter, Liv will see some familiar faces and find out what’s happened during her twenty-year absence.

//

Edited: 9.03.24

Chapter 4

June 19, 1996 – Contd.

Tree branches rustle in the breeze as clouds dot the clear, blue sky. The sun warms her skin, its rays beating down on her face as she lies on the cool grass.

Movement next to her makes her turn onto her side.

Regulus.

He's seated on the ground—legs straight out, weight resting on his arms. His fathomless grey eyes are full of an emotion she’s just beginning to understand. A small, silver chain with a lion charm hangs around his neck, falling out of his unbuttoned collar.

Her eyes land on the charm. She slowly reaches for it, his gaze following her hand, and she catches the charm between her fingers. “When you wear it, can you feel my magic?”

His hand comes up and covers hers. A searing flow of magic passes between them at his touch. “Always.”  

She sighs contentedly as they sit in comfortable silence. He’s all she needs in that peaceful moment.

Her eyelids are heavy; she feels exhausted. "Let’s nap before dinner.”

He looks a little sad but still smiles down at her. He lays next to her and pulls her to him so that her head rests against his chest. She falls asleep to the rhythmic beating of his heart.

Time passes, and eventually, she feels a warm hand brushing her dark hair from where it has fallen across her face.

“Sorry, love, but it’s time to wake up.”  

“Don’t want to wake up, Reg. A little bit longer.”  

His lips brush against her forehead. “I know, but you need to wake up.”

She buries her face deeper into the crook of his shoulder.

“Liv...”

The bright, sunny day swirls around her and morphs into a chilly night. She’s in the same spot but alone on the cold ground.  

“Regulus?” She calls, but no answer. “Reg? Where are you?”  

The tree branches have vanished, and she’s in total darkness. Her eyes try to adjust but cannot focus.

A distant voice calls her name. “Liv...”

“Regulus? I can barely hear you.”  

She feels utterly alone. There is a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wants to follow his voice, but she cannot move. Her limbs are frozen.

Panic seizes her body, and it feels like her lungs are collapsing. She can barely breathe.

“Liv...”

“Regulus...”

“Liv, are you awake...”

“Regulus!”

 

Liv jolted upright in bed—Regulus’ name on her lips. A cold sweat broke out along her brow as her body heaved, her heart racing. She blinked a few times. Disoriented in the darkness, she rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands and reached for her bracelet. Taking deep breaths, she cleared her mind to recall where she was and what she remembered. She touched a pearl—I am at Grimmauld Place. Fingers ran over a second pearl—I spoke to Professor Dumbledore. Another pearl—it is 1996. A fourth pearl—I traveled forward in time. One more pearl—Regulus.

Her heart ached at Regulus's absence from her reality. If she could fall back asleep and escape into her dreams, she would search for him in the darkness.

A light rap on the bedroom door brought her out of her haze.

“Liv, are you awake?” The voice was vaguely familiar, its low timber calming as it pierced through the solid wood. “May I come in?”

She inhaled a long breath and slowly let it out, hoping the shakiness in her voice would go unnoticed. She needed to face whoever was on the other side of the door before panic consumed her. “Yes. You can come in.” 

The door creaked open, and a man wearing what she thought was a well-worn blue cardigan stepped through. The light from the hallway outlined his tall, lean frame. With a wave of his wand, the room lit up in a warm glow.

Liv's shock and disbelief upon seeing the man in front of her left her mouth open. Realizing it was impolite to stare, she closed her mouth with a snap and cleared her throat.

She considered him before she spoke, unsure of exactly what to say. The last time she had seen him was the evening of the prank outside the Great Hall. He was exiting from dinner with a tall stack of chocolate biscuits balancing on a large textbook. She had thought a slight accidental nudge would send the biscuits all over the stone floor.

“Re-Remus?” 

“Hello, Liv.” He smiled kindly, if a little apprehensive.

The teenage version of Remus that Liv remembered was gone. Instead, an adult version stood before her. His shoulders hunched inward as if he were trying to make himself smaller and take up less space in the room. Grey streaks ran through his sandy-brown hair. She blinked a few times, ensuring her mind was not playing tricks on her, but it was unmistakably him. The kind, deep-green eyes, the scars etched across his face—although several more since she had last seen him—were the confirmation she needed to know that she was looking at one of her brother’s best friends. He seemed older than what she thought his age should be. Perhaps the years as a werewolf had not been kind to him.

He stepped closer to the bed, hands clasped behind his back. “How are you feeling?”

Liv had no idea how she was feeling. Since she had activated the Time Disc, everything had been a whirlwind. It all seemed impossible. There was no time to process what had happened to her, from hurtling through time to passing out from exhaustion at Hogwarts and then at Grimmauld Place. Any emotions she felt were locked behind her Occlumency walls. She knew she would drown in their overwhelming onslaught if she allowed herself to feel any of them. She was not sure if she could recover from that.

She shrugged and turned her head, easily avoiding his question. She glanced out the window and noticed that it was evening. The sky was black, dotted with a few stars bright enough to shine in the city lights. Streetlamps illuminated the block. She must have slept for a while.

“Liv—”

She cut him off, eyes stinging, and sniffed. “Things must be pretty bad if you’re the one they sent to check on me. You’re known to be calm in bonkers situations.” A nervous laugh escaped her. She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them close. “What do you expect me to say?”

He offered her a sympathetic smile.

“If I think about what’s happened... it’s just... my Occlumency walls can only do so much, and it’s taking everything in my power to hold them up and not let them crumble.” She paused and rested her chin on her knees. “I’ve just experienced the shock of a lifetime. I could live a thousand years and not expect any of this to have happened. I mean, for Salazar’s sake, you... you have grey hair!” 

He chuckled at her last comment, rocking on his heels awkwardly.

“Sorry, I didn’t... you’re not old, just... do you remember the last time I saw you?” She looked down at the blue duvet and let her finger play with a loose thread as she spoke. “Probably not, but it was the evening of the prank. I don’t know how much you know about the prank...” He offered her a nod to continue. “Anyway, you were exiting the Great Hall with a stack of chocolate biscuits that looked like they were about to topple over. You pulled me aside and tried convincing me not to take Jamie and Sirius’ bullying of Severus so seriously. Positive you knew I was going to retaliate. But I didn’t listen. I couldn’t see past my revenge for my friend and your tower of biscuits." 

The bed dipped as Remus sat on its edge. “I remember. Not the biscuits, but I remember speaking with you. I had hoped to change your mind about your brother and Padfoot.”

“I think I was a tad angry at you as well.” Disappointment crept into her voice, not necessarily at Remus, but with her own stubbornness. “You sat under the tree with Peter and watched them embarrass and bully my friend, so I threw you into a category with my brother and Sirius. I always knew you could pull pranks and, more often than not, was the mastermind behind many of them, but I never thought you were okay with bullying. I guess it doesn’t matter now. But thinking about everything, if I hadn’t been so reckless and listened to you...” her voice trailed off.

He offered her an apologetic smile. “I was young and should have stood up to my friends. I know that doesn’t excuse my actions or lack thereof, but you have no idea how badly I wish I had stopped James and Sirius that day.” He paused, looking down at his hands resting on the worn knees of his trousers. “You’re a Potter, Liv. You’re headstrong and determined—and slightly stubborn. Characteristics that you share with your brother. No matter how persuasive I could be, my words would never have stopped you.”

She knew he was right. The Potters had a streak of determination and stubbornness that usually could not be swayed. That night, Remus could have spoken her ear off and begged her on his knees in hopes of persuading her, but she still would have gone through with her prank.

At the mention of her brother and with her thoughts on her family, Liv wondered about her parents and James. Surely, they were on their way. They could take her back to Potter Manor. She still was not sure why she was at Grimmauld and not at home or the hospital. What would James and her parents look like now, twenty years later? Would her parents be unrecognizable? Would James have grey in his hair, too? She was not sure if she was ready to see the changes.

The same unsettling feeling she had when Dumbledore had visited earlier returned. Remus was in Grimmauld. Remus Lupin—werewolf, half-blood. Walburga Black would never allow Sirius’ friends into her house. In fact, she knew none of his friends had ever visited the home. It would even be a stretch for Orion Black—who was slightly kinder than his wife—to allow his son’s friend into their home, even for extenuating circumstances. She could only conclude that Walburga and Orion were no longer living at Grimmauld. Was Regulus now the head of House Black? With Sirius disowned and living with her family when she disappeared, that responsibility would now be Regulus’. But why had he not visited her yet? As the head of the House, he would know she was in his home. Perhaps it was too awkward for him to see her twenty years later. 

Remus seemed to understand her thoughts, and he cleared his throat, hoping to deter her from where he knew the conversation would eventually lead. “Perhaps it would be wise to get you something proper to eat? You haven’t had any food or drink since you arrived. At least a cup of tea and some biscuits?”

Food and tea were the last thing she desired. She wanted answers now. Her head throbbed with all the questions swirling around in her mind, so she ignored his suggestion.

“Remus, are Lord or Lady Black around? Can I speak with either of them? They must know I’m sequestered in their guest room, obviously.” She knew they weren’t available, but she wanted to hear it vocalized.

The bed shifted as he crossed his legs, and an uncomfortable expression spread across his face. “They are...” he paused, his head turned upward, “unavailable at the moment.”

That was a non-answer; he was indirectly answering to avoid the truth. Fine, she could move past that. What was more important was her family. And then, Regulus.

“I assume my parents and James have been notified that I’m here, right?” The way that he inhaled and how his body tensed at her question set her Slytherin instincts alert. "Or have they already arrived while I was sleeping?” 

“Liv, please, let's head to the kitchen. We can have this conversation over a cup of tea.”

Using all her energy, Liv left her seat on the bed and leaned against the nightstand for balance, her legs resting on the cool wood. “We? Who is we, Remus? Is it my family? Or is there someone else living at Grimmauld who we would have this conversation with?”

“Shite,” he murmured under his breath. He stood up and put both hands out in a placating gesture, his lips forming into a sad smile.

Cracks had begun to form along her Occlumency walls, and she was not sure how much longer it would be before her emotions overwhelmed and crippled her.

“Who is we, Remus?” Her voice dropped dangerously low as she continued. “And how are you standing in this room in Grimmauld?” She moved her arms to her side and stood painfully straight. She winced as a sharp pain spasmed across her mid-section, a reminder that she still wore bandages from her time travel. “And Professor Dumbledore—showing up here, at Grimmauld? Walburga and Orion erected specific runic wards to protect their home, keeping out half-bloods and muggle-borns. No matter how powerful Dumbledore is, or how close you are to Sirius, they would never allow their sacred home to be polluted with people they thought were less than pure, like...” She stopped herself from continuing. She could tell he understood what she was implying.

It looked as if he would speak, but she shook her head. She had to get through her last question.

“Regulus, where is he? Have you seen him lately? Do you know why he isn’t here?” His expression betrayed nothing. “Sure, it’s twenty years in the future, but I know Regulus. He would be here if he could. We are—were—close.” 

The thought that she was Regulus’ past made her chest ache. To her, it was just over a day ago—to him, twenty years. Her mind hurt with how complex everything was quickly becoming. 

There was a long pause as Remus gathered himself. He pulled at the sleeves of his cardigan and then cautiously walked towards where she stood. “I promise to answer all your questions, but it would be best if you had something in your system. You’ve just gone through a huge ordeal, and your body and magical core are recovering. Please, Liv, let’s go to the kitchen.”

The care in his tone and the eagerness in his expression moved her. If this were the only way she would get answers, she would comply, for now.

“Alright, I-I'll go to the kitchen.”

The relief that washed over Remus was immediate as he took a step back. “Thank you.” He turned towards the door and walked out of the room, waiting for her to follow into the hallway.

“I supposed you don’t know where my belongings are?” she asked as she came up next to him. She remembered having her wand at one point in the Gryffindor common room, but it had been lost since waking up in Grimmauld. All of her things were missing.

“I believe Dumbledore has them.” Her brow furrowed at his assumption. Why would Dumbledore have her belongings?

“He could have left them here with me or with you. That’s odd.”

He nodded in agreement. “Perhaps since you were found in Hogwarts, he thought it best to hold on to them for safekeeping until he knew you were all right.”

“Perhaps. But since I appear to be safe, hopefully, they’ll be returned to me soon.”

 

As Liv and Remus descended the three flights of stairs, she could not help but gawk at the changes in Grimmauld Place. The house, a once stately townhome, now appeared derelict. The faded brocade wallpaper peeled away from the walls, revealing the wear and tear of time. A thick layer of dust covered the surfaces, giving the impression that the house had been untouched for years. The windows, once spotless, now had a film over them, obscuring the view of the outside world. As she took in her surroundings, a quick memory crossed her mind of the grand chandelier, casting a warm glow and illuminating the narrow hallway where people trickled in and out of the formal dining room in their gowns and dress robes all evening. It was a memory of her last Christmas at Grimmauld. That had been the night Regulus gave her the pearl bracelet.

Anxiety washed over her as their feet met the green and white tiled floor of the main hall. What happened to its upkeep? Kreacher would be mortified at the current state of the home. He had always kept it in immaculate condition. Perhaps he had passed away? He was rather ancient the last time she saw him. 

“I see the elf heads are still mounted to the wall,” she commented. That was one thing she had planned on removing when she became Lady Black. They were grotesque and horrible. Not an ounce of dignity was given to those elves. She supposed it did not matter now.

“Si—” Remus cut himself off. She arched a brow at him. “Sorry,” he continued as they walked past the wall where the gallery of family portraits used to hang and past the double doors to the formal dining room. “There have been several attempts to remove the heads from the wall, but apparently, the sticking charm is blood-magicked to be permanent.”

“Wouldn’t blood magic release them, then?”

“It would, yes.” He gestured for her to enter the stairwell to the basement kitchen. “But as you know, with blood magic—”

“It can only be undone by the original caster,” she quickly answered.

“Indeed.” He seemed impressed by her answers and left it at that.

To Liv, blood magic was not inherently dark or evil; rather, it was a tool that could be used for both dark and light purposes, depending on the caster's intent and the specific spell used. Her father and mother had taught her and her brother about blood magic and had shown them the various spells associated with it in their family grimoire. She had used blood magic to enchant the lion charm she had given to Regulus, and he had used it for her bracelet.

They finally descended the stairs and stood on the bottom landing, which overlooked the kitchen. Though narrow, the room still felt cavernous to her. 

Liv was about to head to the dishes rack and grab a teacup when she stopped at the scene before her. She was not surprised that someone would be waiting for them in the narrow room—she had just assumed it would be someone from her family or Regulus, definitely not Sirius Black.

 

Notes:

It took me a little longer than anticipated to write this and the next chapter. Between work and a couple of other stories, the posting date will most likely be monthly.

Appreciate the read!

//

Edited 9.03.24

Chapter 5

June 19, 1996 – Contd.

Sirius was sitting at the kitchen table, holding a small teacup in one hand, with the other hand resting against his leg. He looked uncomfortable as he lounged in the wooden chair. His hair was shoulder-length, just as Liv remembered it when he was a teen. Its color and style had not changed much, but its shine was gone. The medium-length strands now hung disheveled around him, much like his current state. He wore a wrinkled, button-down shirt with a velvet vest—his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Various tattoos wrapped around his forearms. He looked troubled as if some invisible weight rested on his shoulders. It was not unusual for him to look sorrowful, as she often caught him with the same vacant stare when he was alone at Potter Manor. He was quick to slide into a well-practiced smile, but she knew that was all it was. She wondered what had made him so weary over the past twenty years.

Remus cleared his throat and led her toward the long kitchen table at the center of the room. Sirius must have been deep in thought as he did not look up at their entry.

The kitchen was familiar to how she remembered it, albeit in a distressing state. A fine layer of grime covered the stove and shelves, emitting a musty smell that filled the air. The once vibrant tiles now looked dull; their colors faded with time. Removing the dirt would definitely take more than Kreacher and a few cleaning charms.

“Pads,” Remus spoke gently as he stood next to where his friend sat, placing a hand on his shoulder. There was a tenderness there that did not go unnoticed by her.

Sirius’ back went straight. He immediately stood from the chair, the wooden legs scraping against stone, and looked up at Remus.

Remus nodded once in her direction, encouraging him to turn around, and moved to the side. 

Sirius’ gaze immediately landed on her.

“Siri.” His name was barely a whisper on her lips as she blinked back unshed tears. He was older, with thin lines that were etched into his aristocratic features. More tattoos peeked from behind his collar. His grey eyes were hazy, and she swore there was a look of utter devastation that briefly flashed in his eyes. He blinked several times before running a hand through his wavy hair. “Siri... I—”

His eyes cleared at the sound of her voice, and before she realized it, he had moved to where she stood, wrapping her lean frame in a hug. Hesitating for only a moment, her arms encircled him and squeezed back. His body shook as he held her tight to him. She was not sure how long they stood there, but eventually, he pulled back, his hands resting on her shoulders. 

“Hi, Livvie.” At hearing Sirius' nickname for her, the cracks in her Occlumency walls spread further. She inhaled through her nose and squeezed her eyes shut. She could not meet his regretful gaze. “Fuck... I’m so, so sorry, Liv.” 

Her head shook furiously. She did not want to hear apologies. It would only make her fall apart.

Remus stood behind Sirius, a concerned expression clouding his scarred face. “Pads, let’s sit down, okay?” He motioned to the kitchen table for the three of them to sit. “I’ll reheat the tea.”

Remus moved to the large, black stove where the tea kettle sat as she and Sirius made their way to the wooden table. Sirius pulled out her chair, and she slowly lowered herself into it. She reached for her bracelet and stared down at the grey wood of the table.

Silence filled the kitchen with the occasional noise of the kettle heating up and the clanging of teacups in the background breaking through it. She glanced at Sirius’ seat across the table and saw him desperately watching her. The intensity of his stare made her shift in the hard wooden chair. It was as if he was afraid to blink—like she might disappear in front of him a second time.

Questions about his health, whereabouts, and what had happened over the years filled her mind, but she could not bring herself to ask them. It was like they were stuck in the back of her throat. She swallowed and realized she had not had anything to drink since before Dumbledore’s visit. Tea would be nice.

The silence grew between them, and eventually, it became too much.

“Where’s Regulus?” Sirius looked wounded by her question. “Is—is he alright?” Whatever was in his expression made her hesitate to continue. Remus had a similar reaction earlier. Thinking about both of their reactions set her heart racing.

Remus finally levitated the tea service and a light-blue tin of biscuits to where they sat around the table.

“Liv, how do you take your tea?” he asked as he took his seat to the left of Sirius.

“She takes it with a healthy splash of milk.” She looked at Sirius, surprised he knew how she doctored her tea. He shrugged. “At least that’s how I remember it when I lived with you at Mum and Dad’s.” 

Mum and Dad. She and James had always been formal with their parents, but those formalities disappeared as soon as Sirius entered their lives. She never got used to calling her parents Mum and Dad, but she liked that her brother and Sirius did. 

A teacup with Earl Grey and a splash of milk was placed in front of her. “Thanks, Remus.”

Sirius reached his hand out and silently mouthed something. A bottle of firewhisky immediately flew into his waiting hand. He placed it on the table and slid the amber-looking whisky towards her. “You may need this.”

Liv reached for the firewhisky, but Remus quickly intercepted it and snatched it from her grasp. “She’s not old enough to drink, Padfoot.” 

A huff left her lips. “You obviously are forgetting about all the parties the Marauders threw, which certainly overflowed with firewhisky and other types of alcohol.”

“Sure,” Remus acknowledged, “but I am now a responsible adult.”

Her eyebrows raised, and she sent him a dubious look. “Uhuh.”

Sirius smirked but only offered her another shrug when she lifted her head and scrunched her nose at Remus’ reply.

Remus undid the cork and dropped a splash of whisky into his cup before passing it to Sirius, who vanished his tea entirely and filled it to the brim with the amber liquid.

She took a sip of her tea and looked expectantly at both of her brother’s friends. Anxiety was written all over their expressions.

Sirius coughed, clearing his throat, and sat up a little straighter. “Alright, I’m sure you have thousands of questions. Maybe it would be best to explain things that have happened since your disappearance.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “It will help to establish a background for you.”

“Okay, that works for me.” She took another sip of the Earl Grey before they began.

“When you disappeared that night, into thin air—” Sirius audibly gulped before continuing, “I was shocked. I didn’t know what to do. One moment, you were glowing in front of me, and then the next, you were gone in a burst of light. Pretty sure I stared at the space you had been in for 15 minutes. Thankfully, Moony is a light sleeper. He heard my shouts for you and rushed over to help.” He looked at her meaningfully. “Remember all the sand and gems that covered your body and the duvet? They were gone. I had no proof that you had even been in my bed.” He raked his hands down his face and sighed. “I tore apart my entire bed, looking for the device you used.”

“Time Disc,” she whispered.

“What?” 

“It was a Time Disc. Something I found in Father’s study.”

“Right, okay, the Time Disc. Anyway, my antics woke up your brother and Wormtail—” there was disgust in his voice at the mention of Peter, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it “—and I explained everything, frantic really, but they convinced me that you knew what you were doing and would show up in the morning.”

He paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

“The next morning, as we exited the common room to head to the Great Hall, we found Regulus and Sni-Snape waiting outside the portrait hole for us. They were worried, especially Reggie—asking if I had seen you the previous night. They admitted to the prank and explained that you were trying to send James and me home by way of a portkey and that you were supposed to return to the Slytherin common room immediately afterward, but you never returned. My heart sank immediately after they explained the prank. I knew something had gone horribly wrong.”

“There was a search for you,” Remus said after sipping his whisky-laced tea. Sirius looked down at the table and played with the rim of his cup. “James was beside himself with worry. We all were.” He stretched his long legs under the table and shifted in his seat. “Everyone immediately went to Dumbledore’s office, not bothering to wait and go through the proper channels. We told him about the prank, and he seemed oddly intrigued; he tried hiding his curiosity, which I found odd. He tried placating your brother, Regulus, and Sirius, saying that perhaps in your shuffle with Padfoot, the portkey had sent you to Potter Manor instead. We tried floo-calling from his office to Potter Manor—”

“But it was closed because my parents were out of the country,” she interjected.

“Exactly. Dumbledore sent his Patronus instead.”

“But I knew that you had not portkeyed home,” Sirius said, his tone sad. “The light and the glow... if Dumbledore had seen it... if anyone had seen it...” He lifted his cup to his lips and gulped the firewhisky down.

Liv turned her head and rested her chin in her hand.

“Your parents obviously came once they received Dumbledore’s Patronus. The Ministry was brought in, and your disappearance somehow made the Daily Prophet. Search parties were sent all over the country, even to the continent. Eventually, though, the search ended.” There was something calm about Remus’ tone. He had a gift for reading people and explaining things.

“But your parents never gave up hope,” Sirius added. “The family tree tapestry never showed you as deceased. The line from your parents to you and your name continually shimmered and faded in and out.”

“Which makes sense, now, with your re-appearance,” Remus said. “Some sort of magical time stasis must have applied to the tapestry.”

Liv sat for a minute, processing everything they had told her. She took a sip of her lukewarm tea and grimaced. She could really use the firewhisky.

“So, no one received closure from my disappearance?” The men sitting in front of her said nothing. “Twenty years and...” her voice trailed off.

She could not imagine the suffering her family and friends experienced because of her disappearance. To always wonder what happened to your child, sister, friend, or betrothed. If she were in their shoes, moving on would have been impossible. Guilt seeped into her at the carelessness of her decisions. She regretted ever finding the Time Disc.

A persistent question about her parents lingered uncomfortably at the forefront of her mind. It gnawed at her from the moment she woke up in Grimmauld, and hearing about the search for her after her disappearance gave her an inexplicable feeling that something had happened to them. In her heart, she already knew the answer.

“Where are Mum and Dad, Sirius?” She purposefully used Sirius’ names for her parents. Her amber eyes focused on his pools of grey. She wanted him to react, to give her something, to deny what she suspected.

Sirius opened his mouth a few times, but nothing came out. His eyes were rimmed with red, and he shook his head.

Liv closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly. She tried clearing her mind, but it was useless.

“I’m afraid it was Dragon Pox.” The sadness in Remus’ voice was devastating. “Nothing could be done. But they weren't alone, Liv. James, Sirius, and I… we were there through the entire thing.” He touched her shoulder gently and gave it a comforting squeeze.

She chewed on the inside of her cheek, inhaling a breath through her nose that would not escape through her mouth. Breathing seemed impossible. The devastation of her parents' death constricted her lungs. She never got to say goodbye to them—never got to tell them that she loved them one more time. It was as if her world had collapsed around her. A single tear escaped, making its way down her high cheekbone.

She was afraid to ask, but she forced the words out. Her tone was strangled and rough. “And Jamie?”

Sirius reached across the table and held her hand in his. He squeezed it hard and did not let go. He nodded for Remus to continue speaking.

She sat in silent horror as he spoke about the war. Voldemort had done it. He had recruited enough pure-blood families and gathered a large enough following to try and take over Wizarding Britain. She knew about the muggle disappearances from the Daily Prophet. Regulus had told her about the Dark Lord’s visits to Grimmauld Place and how his parents had offered him and Sirius in service to him. She initially had not believed Regulus, but when Sirius arrived unannounced at Potter Manor, fleeing from Walburga’s pressure to join, it was a reality she could no longer disregard. She had worried from then on, that Regulus would be drawn into the Dark Lord’s circle.

They told her about the Order of the Phoenix and the Light, the Death Eaters and the Dark, and the pure-blood fanaticism that swept over the Wizarding World. They explained how Dumbledore had recruited their friends right out of Hogwarts and how her Slytherin friends were most likely recruited for the Dark. They spoke about the lines drawn in the sand, the missions they had been sent out on, the bravery of her brother and their friends, and the countless lives lost.

But they also talked about the joyous moments in between all the darkness. They beamed about Lily Evans finally falling for James and how they eventually married after graduation. They reminisced about the Marauders' shared family Sunday dinners and holidays between their missions and daily jobs. They also told her that her brother and sister-in-law had a baby boy born at the end of July 1980. His name was Harry, and he looked just like James with his mother’s eyes. She had a nephew.

However, she knew that the good moments would not outweigh the bad. Eventually, they spoke about a prophecy that forced James and Lily into hiding. They discussed how Voldemort fixated on her brother’s family until the end, how one of their closest friends betrayed them to him, and how they lost their lives protecting their son.

Liv had not let go of Sirius’ hand the entire time. Her fingers ached from their grip around his hand, but she could not remove them from his grasp. She felt that if she did, the entire room would disappear around her, and she would be swept into the darkness again.

In the span of twenty years, her parents, brother, and sister-in-law had all passed away. She could barely process any of it. She wanted to sob or cry or scream into oblivion, but nothing came out. What was wrong with her? Her body must be in shock. She swallowed down the ache of their loss and placed them behind her walls.

The room was eerily quiet after their conversation. Sirius and Remus watched her, waiting for her to react, but she could not. Not yet.

“You mentioned that many of my Housemates joined You-Know-Who. Did—did Regulus and Severus become Death Eaters?” The words tasted sour in her mouth. “What happened to Regulus?” Her heart pounded in her ears.

Sirius furrowed his brows, and a look of utter disappointment and devastation spread over his face. With his free hand, he poured himself more firewhisky.

She shook her head and dropped Sirius’ hand from hers. “I-I don’t accept it.” She placed both palms on the table and pressed into the wood as hard as possible, fingernails digging into the grain. “They weren’t pure-blood elitists. Severus was a half-blood, for Salazar’s sake! They were good people. My best friends. They would never betray me or my family or friends like that.”

The sorrow in Sirius’ expression cut something deep inside of her. “You disappeared, Liv, and without you... I don’t know what happened in that Slytherin common room. But I do know Walburga would have pushed Reggie to join. She pushed me, remember? I had an escape—Regulus did not.”

“That’s because I was his escape. Me... and I fucking left him, Siri. And he what, died in service to a psychotic Dark Lord?” Sirius said nothing in reply. “If I hadn’t disappeared, if I hadn’t been so stubborn, he would be sitting here! Tell me that that’s not true!” 

Upon realizing the truth, an unbearable pain spread throughout her chest; it felt as if her soul split in two. The devastation she felt was utterly crippling. She had lost the most important person in her life—her other half—not to time, but to death. She cradled her head in her hands, shallow breaths leaving her body. Everything around her began closing in.

Her words came out broken through clenched teeth as her right hand came down to her chest and scraped at the old T-shirt fabric. "I c-can't breathe. It hurts s-so bad. I lo-loved him—so in love—and h-he died not knowing. He died not—not knowing I was i-in love with him… He-he was my other half... Salazar, it hu-hurts... can’t br-breathe.”

Sirius was immediately at her side, knocking over his chair in the movement. “Hey, hey, hey.” He rubbed soothing circles on her back. “Reggie knew that Liv, he knew you loved him. And I know for certain he loved you, too. You were both young, but sometimes you just know.” He inhaled deeply and let out a slow breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for my words to make you think that what happened to Reggie was your fault. Nothing is your fault, love. Look at me... If I had been more aware of Reggie and what he had been going through or had been a better brother, who knows? But the thing is, we don’t know. We may never know. There is an infinite number of fucking what-ifs. But going down that road… pondering them for too long will only drive you spare. Trust me, please.”

They sat like that for a few minutes until her breathing finally steadied, and the room felt less suffocating. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and realized tears had finally fallen.

“Padfoot is right, Liv. "It's dangerous to dwell on all the uncertainties. Trust us, we have plenty of what-ifs in our lives to make us go crazy. Fixating on them will only make the world we currently live in more challenging to bear.”

Liv summoned the last of her energy to stand from her chair. The news she had just received was incredibly overwhelming. Her heart was shattered, and her body felt overly sensitive. She needed some space to process her emotions.

“I think I need to lay down.” Her voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. “I-I’m sorry you had to re-live everything that happened.”

“Please, no apologies are necessary, Liv. You deserved to hear what happened from Sirius and me. And yes, you need rest.” Remus pulled a clear vial from his cardigan’s pocket and handed it to her. Her eyes squinted at the light-blue liquid. “A nourishment potion. You barely drank your tea and haven’t eaten anything in almost 48 hours. I’m surprised you're still standing.”

“Adrenaline, I suspect.” She uncorked the vial and threw back the potion. Her face set into a grimace at the taste.

“Do you need direction or assistance getting back to your room?” Sirius stood up, worried.

She shook her head. “No, I know my way. Thanks, though.”

Sirius leaned towards her, like he wanted to help, but caught himself. Remus’ hand rested on his friend’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Night.”

“Night, Livvie.”

“Goodnight, Liv.”

 

Liv's feet carried her exhausted body up the steps until she stood outside Regulus' room on the fourth floor. She had not meant to go to his room, but it was as if her body had a mind of its own. She placed her palms on the door and rested her forehead against the wood. She felt a surge of magic as she touched it. To her amazement, the door clicked open, and she stepped through.

The room was in perfect stasis. It was a shock to her system. She stood stunned, eyes wide. It was almost cruel that his room was untouched. Like all the other rooms in that gods-forsaken house, she wanted it to be dusty and disintegrating. Instead, it had been enshrined as a permanent memory to a young man who died too soon, no doubt Walburga’s doing. Her eyes stung as she fought back the tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks again.

She wandered to the bed, which was still made, letting her fingers graze against the dark green duvet. She turned and moved to his desk. There was some parchment and a quill strewn on the desktop. The desk chair was angled out as if he had just stood up and forgotten to push it in. His Slytherin banner hung above the small row of books on his desk—she recognized her favorite muggle novel, Villette, which she had given him as a present earlier that year. An oversized grey jumper, haphazardly folded, sat on top of the chest of drawers, and on the chest’s mirror, photos of their friends were magically taped along the edge.

She walked to the chest and picked up the jumper. Somehow, it was still warm, its thick wool scratching against her arms. She lifted it to her face and inhaled—gourmands, broom polish, Earl Grey, and mint. It still smelled like him. She choked on a sob that had escaped her chest. She held onto the jumper as her gaze flitted over the pictures. She immediately found one of her and Regulus sitting under their favorite tree at Black Lake—he had his arm around her waist while his profile stared at her. She was laughing at something off-camera. The adoration in his eyes... it was too much.

She tore the photo off the mirror, clasping it tightly between her fingers, and moved to the bed. Her body collapsed onto the mattress as she curled up on her side. All the emotions she had suppressed finally tore down her carefully built walls. The pain engulfed her. Losing everything and everyone she had ever loved—she would not survive it. Gut-wrenching sobs racked her body as she clung to his sweater and the photo. She cried for her family, for the loss of Regulus, for her friends, for Sirius and Remus, who survived it all, and for her nephew, who never knew his parents. She stared at the photo in her hand, the only focal point keeping her from losing her mind completely.

She was not sure how long she had stayed in that position on the bed, but at some point, in the early morning hours, the door to Regulus’ room opened, and a large, black dog hopped onto the bed and curled next to her. She wrapped her arms around its neck and buried her face in its fur, letting her tears wet its fluff. Eventually, the calming presence of the dog helped her regulate her breathing, and drifted into a fitful sleep.

 

Notes:

In the next chapter, Liv will learn more about the past and find out why her nephew isn't living with Sirius. Eventually, the story will pick up its pace.

//

Thanks for sticking with this fic! Appreciate the read.

Edited 9.03.24

Chapter 6

June 20, 1996

The sun’s mid-morning rays filtered through the heavy curtains in Regulus’ room, casting their warmth across Liv’s face. She was already awake and had been for a while, staring up at the ceiling and gazing into nothing. Her entire body felt numb like she was in some sort of muddled dream, and she was just floating through it. Emotions were carefully placed behind her Occlumency walls from where they had broken through the previous night. The warmth from the sun did nothing to spur her into moving from where she lay on the bed. She was unsure when she had woken up, but she could not find it in herself to move from her spot. Sirius, in his Animagus form, had left the room at some point once the sun had fully risen. Maybe that’s when she had woken up as well. Her grip was still on Regulus’ wool jumper, the moving photo of them now set aside on top of the duvet.

She took a long, deep inhale of breath and held it in her lungs, counting the seconds silently until it felt like her lungs would explode. She repeated the same breathing cycle over and over again as her mind began to wander. What was she going to do? Her parents and brother were dead, Regulus was gone, she was no longer in 1976. Could she get back to her time? Would she even be allowed to if she could? Additionally, she was not yet of age. Would she still have access to the Potter vaults? Potter Manor? Did Harry live at Potter Manor by himself? She doubted that. And where in the hell were her belongings? Her wand? She felt almost naked without her wand. The questions and unknown answers began overwhelming her, so she closed her eyes and squeezed them tightly shut. Stars burst behind her eyelids until images of her and Regulus pushed forward—the last kiss she gave him before everything went to shit, the surprised look and blush on his face. Her heart felt heavy again.

A light knock on the bedroom door thankfully brought her out of her spiraling thoughts.

“Liv, hey, can I come in?” Sirius’ raspy voice was on the other side of the door. The deep sadness from the previous night still lingered in his tone. “Just want to check in on you, love.”

She cleared her throat and slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, the mattress giving way to her movements. “Yeah, of course. I mean, you were already in here as Padfoot.” Her voice was hoarse from crying and the fitful night’s sleep.

She heard Sirius chuckle—his deep laugh somehow lightened the heaviness in her heart for a brief moment.

The door creaked open, and Sirius stepped through, looking no better for wear than her. “I see you still have the same dry humor.” She watched as he placed a set of clean, folded clothes on the chest of drawers.

“I suppose traveling through time has only honed it.” He snorted at her comment. “The one positive thing from this entirely fucked up ordeal.” She rubbed her tiered, red-rimmed eyes with the palm of her hand.

“Language,” he tsked teasingly as he moved towards the bed and dropped onto its edge near her. They sat in silence for several moments before he sighed and turned towards her, placing his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “How are you holding up?”

It was a good question. When Dumbledore and Remus asked her yesterday, she had no answer. Now? She maybe could say by a thread.

Sirius watched as she chewed the inside of her cheek, his worried grey gaze softening a bit. “It’s okay if you don’t know. It might take a while until you sort through all the feelings and emotions that you’re experiencing. Hell—” he raked a tattooed hand through his messy hair, “—I’m fully an adult, and there are emotions that I’m still contending with, emotions that may never fully find resolution. It takes time, so don’t work yourself up over it.”

Liv swallowed and breathed in through her nose. She found herself touching her pearl bracelet as she spoke. “I don’t really know what I’m feeling—numb, perhaps. If I let myself feel all the emotions, you and Remus will have to cart me off to St. Mungo’s.” She huffed out a dark laugh as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and positioned herself next to Sirius. “The only thing I am allowing myself to feel is guilt, I suppose. I’m so, so absolutely sorry, Siri. I—”

He cut her off before she could continue. “No more apologies, love. What happened, happened. You weren’t the cause of any of it. Besides, since when do Slytherins apologize?”

His comment brought forth an actual smile on her lips, which felt a bit strange because of all the heaviness settled into her bones since she woke up from the prank. “Right, I forgot for a moment.” She let out a shaky breath and rested her head against his shoulder. “What am I going to do, Siri? I—I just want to curl up in a ball and close my eyes. Maybe if I squeeze them hard enough, when I open them, I’ll be back in my dormitory in 1976.” She reached for the photo of Regulus and her, rubbing her thumb on its corner. “What if I’m stuck here, in 1996, for the foreseeable future?”

There was a pause before Sirius replied. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out.” He kissed the top of her head gently. “Remus and I will ensure you’re taken care of—you’re not alone, Liv.”

She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words until he had spoken them. She was not alone. Twenty years in the future, out of her own time, but she was not alone.

He let her rest her head on his shoulder for several more minutes, giving her comfort in the silence and support he lent. She could see his eyes anxiously darting around the room. When was the last time he had entered his brother’s bedroom? Most likely, not since his mother cast the stasis charm on it.

Finally, he squeezed her knee and spoke softly, his tone almost pained. “This room might not be the best place for you, Liv.”

The sudden anxiety of being removed from Regulus' space made her palms sweat as she swallowed thickly. “No, no, you don’t understand… his room is the one thing grounding me. When I touched the door last night, the room’s magic let me in and wrapped itself around me. It’s like my pearl bracelet—I can feel his magic. It still lingers in this room. So does his scent.” Her voice faded as she gripped the photo, realizing she sounded a little mental and slightly desperate.

She could tell it took an incredible effort on Sirius’ part to remain calm as he fidgeted with the silver ring he wore on his pinky finger. “Don’t let the room fool you, love. It’s only lingering magic. It’s not him.”

“I know that—” there was a long pause before she continued,“—I  do. But I can’t make any promises that I won’t find myself in his room again.” Her tone was final as she placed the photo on the bedside table and brought one of her legs up to her chest, resting her chin on her knee.

He let out a defeated sigh and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her to his side. “Stubborn. I know when it’s a losing battle against a Potter.”

She wanted to laugh at his comment, but nothing came out, only a huff of acknowledgment.

“Why don’t you shower and come down to the kitchen for a late breakfast? I brought you clean clothes—and left a Muggle toothbrush and toothpaste on the bathroom counter since you still don’t have your wand. You need to check your bandages, too. Remus applied Dittany to heal the cuts, so there shouldn’t be much scarring, but they may still feel tender.”

At the mention of her cuts, Liv glanced down and gently pressed a hand against her midsection. To her surprise, she felt little to no soreness at the touch, a stark difference from the day before.

Sirius stood from the bed and began walking towards the door, rolling his shoulders as he moved. He glanced back at her position on the bed before leaving the room. “So, check your bandages, freshen up, and come downstairs for a spot of tea and breakfast. See you shortly, love.”

She watched as he left the room and then flopped back on the bed, grumbling. Grabbing Regulus’ jumper, she buried her face in its scratchy material again and sighed. Leaving his room was the last thing she wanted, but she supposed she had to get up and eat something. Living off nourishment potions would not be sustainable.

 

Liv stood from the bed and stretched her limbs. They were stiff from how tense her body had been the night before. She moved to the drawers and picked up the clean clothes Sirius provided her: another band shirt, wool socks, and a pair of pajama pants. Some part of her wanted to open Regulus’ drawers and search for something of his, but maybe that would be too much.

After leaving the bedroom, she walked to the floor’s main bathroom. Once inside, she leaned into the shower and adjusted the nozzles to run the water as hot as it would go. Standing in front of the large mirror, she carefully removed her t-shirt, folded it, and placed it on the counter. Glancing at her reflection, she grimaced. Her hair was a sweaty mess, her skin ashen, and her eyes still red and puffy from crying.

The bandages were still magicked onto her skin as her fingers deftly felt across them. She slowly peeled them away, tossed them into a wastebasket next to the counter, and took inventory of her torso. Minor cuts and abrasions that had marred her skin the day before were now lines of pink marks. Her fingers trailed over them, feeling the raised skin.

Steamed filled the bathroom, fogging the mirror and indicating the shower temperature was perfectly hot. She removed the rest of her clothes, folded them neatly, and stepped into the shower. As the expensive soaps washed away the two days' worth of sweat and grime, she barely registered the scalding hot water, her body still numb. She wanted to stay under the shower until her skin burned and she felt something, but eventually, the hot water turned cold. After showering, drying, and brushing her teeth, she dressed in the comfortable T-shirt, socks, and pajama pants, tying the drawstring snugly around her lean frame.

Exiting the bathroom, she slowly made her way down to the kitchen. The halls were still dark and grim as she padded through them. She decided to take her time, drifting into different rooms as she went. When she reached the first floor, she stopped in the library. The layout had not changed at all. Her favorite leather armchairs sat in front of the large, tiled fireplace. The leather was far more worn than the last time she sat in them, and there was a thick layer of dust, but the scent remained the same—old parchment and ink. She walked across the hall from the library and peered into the sitting room with its baby grand piano and blue sofas. The room looked worse for wear, as if moths had made a feast of the beautiful upholsteries. Finally, she found herself standing outside the drawing room, where she knew the Black Family Tapestry hung along its walls. Hesitating for a few moments, she sucked in a breath and pushed the drawing room door open. She took a step inside and immediately regretted her decision. Even though she felt the family magic wrap around her, a shudder went through her body. How often had she and Regulus entered that room, studying at all the family members, tracing the gold threads with their fingers until they rested upon his name and image? How often had they discussed the gold thread that would one day tie her name to his?

Before she could stop herself, she moved along the wall to where she knew Regulus’ name and image would be displayed. She needed to see the white skull. She could not explain why it was so important at that moment, but it was. Closing her eyes briefly, she counted to three as her pulse quickened and her heart thudded in her ears. When she reopened her eyes, her face drained of color, and she felt as if the wind was knocked out of her. The white skull stared back at her, its ominous image almost taunting her, teasing her that she could not escape the truth of Regulus’ demise. She lifted a trembling finger and traced the skull—Regulus Arcturus Black. Her vision blurred, and her breathing became labored. She clumsily stood back from the tapestry and knocked over a side table. Stumbling out of the drawing room, she slammed the door closed and slid to the ground, her back leaning against the door. It felt like she could not breathe again, like her chest was constricting. Squeezing her eyes closed, she dropped her head between her knees and forced herself to breathe. Four counts in—six counts out. After a few minutes, her breathing finally evened, and the rapid beating in her chest stopped. Her head hit the back of the door as she stared across the hall. What had she been thinking? She decided never to step foot in that room again.

 

When it felt like she could stand, Liv slowly pushed herself off the hardwood floor and continued walking to the kitchen. Sirius and Remus’ hushed tones filled the narrow stairwell as she descended the last steps into the basement. She knew eavesdropping invaded their privacy, but she wanted to hear what they were discussing, so she remained hidden behind the landing wall.

“—I think we need to tell her,” Remus said lowly.

“Absolutely not. It’s too much,” Sirius replied.

“Padfoot.”

“No. She’s not in the right state, Moony. You should have seen her holding on to the photo of her and Reggie, with his wool jumper lying next to her. It about killed me.” There was a beat of silence before Sirius continued. “She’s in a fragile state, and I think if we tell her more—”

“You can’t hide what happened to you for 12 years, you know,” Remus spoke over him, his hushed tone cautious. “Eventually, she’ll ask why he isn’t living with you.”

“I know—Merlin, I know. But how am I supposed to explain to her—”

She finally decided to come out from behind the staircase wall, her socked-covered feet on the stone landing. “Explain what?”

“Liv,” Remus startled, surprised by her sudden appearance. The contents of his mug splashed onto the table. “Shite,” he muttered.

“It’s nothing, love.” Sirius sent a strained smile her way, and with a wave of his hand, Remus’ spilled tea vanished.

“Sure, I’ll just pretend that I didn’t hear you speaking about me as I came down the stairs.” She slowly walked towards where Sirius and Remus sat at the end of the long kitchen table.

Sirius stood and pulled out her chair, its legs scraping against the stone floor. “You look better. Some color is back. Sit, please.” He quickly changed the subject, gesturing to the platters of food on the wooden table, his face in a lopsided grin. “Moony made breakfast, so brace yourself for some truly egregious eggs and bacon.”

“It’s better than the food you cook, Pads. Burnt every time.” Remus reached into the pocket of his cardigan and pulled out a small cream envelope. “Dumbledore sent this to you with the morning post.” A concerned look clouded his usually calm features.

As she sat down in the open chair, she took the letter from his hand and absently ran her finger over the Hogwarts seal. There were few reasons why Dumbledore would send her a letter after they spoke a day ago, and she knew that all of them revolved around her recent appearance in 1996. “Did anything else come with it? Like my belongings by chance?”

Sirius’ goofy smile faltered as he watched her take the letter.

“Sorry, Liv, your belongings weren’t with the post.”

“I wonder if this is about the Ministry. Dumbledore said they were aware of my time travel and would be making a full investigation.”

Remus poured her a cup of tea and slid the mug towards her. “Possibly. Or he’s just checking in.”

She wanted to snort. Dumbledore, just checking in? Unlikely. If he was the same man he was in her time, he only did things with intent and purpose.

“If he was just ‘checking in,’ why doesn’t he Floo Call?” She reached for the small pitcher of milk that sat next to a bowl of sugar and poured a splash into her tea. Sirius and Remus both hesitated and glanced between them. “What, is the Floo Network being monitored or something?” She chuckled at the absurdity but faltered when she saw their expressions. “Wait, is it actually being monitored?” That was a surprise. Maybe it had always been monitored, even in her time.

Sirius was the first to speak with a tight smile and pushed a full plate piled high with bacon towards her. “Bacon?”

“Yes, the Floo Network is being monitored by the Ministry. Nothing really unusual about it.” Remus’ voice was unconvincing as he ignored Sirius’ attempts to change subjects yet again.

“I guess things have changed since 1976.” She shook her head, declining the bacon, and instead focused on the envelope. She broke the seal and opened the letter. Her amber eyes quickly scanned its contents. “Dumbledore writes that the Department of Mysteries is researching my time travel. They’ll eventually request that I appear at the Ministry for an interview.” Her brow creased as she flipped the parchment over. “And he requests that I not divulge my return to anyone outside of you both. Apparently, I will need to develop a  cover story, and he will visit to help create a background for me.” She handed over the letter to Remus so that he could read it.

Sirius stood and moved behind Remus reading over his shoulder, his tattooed hand squeezing his friend’s arm. As she watched their interaction, she realized there was something intimate in their closeness, and it made her heart swell.

“I suppose that settles it then.” Remus set the letter down while Sirius went back to his chair. “Until we hear back from the Ministry, your secret must remain just that—a secret.”

She wrapped her fingers around her warm mug and lifted it to her lips. “Why would Dumbledore care if anyone else finds out about my appearance? It's not like I traveled back in time with the possibility of divulging secrets to change future events.”

“She has a good point, Moony.” Sirius leaned casually back in his seat and waved a half-eaten piece of bacon in Remus’ direction.

Remus tousled his dark hair with his long, scarred fingers. His voice was calm and steady as he spoke to Liv. “Well, I can see two good reasons why Dumbledore would suggest that your identity remain a secret. First, it’s most likely for your safety. Can you imagine the media circus once word gets out that Liv Potter traveled forward in time from the past and isn’t presumed dead? And second, perhaps this is his way of protecting Harry. What if the DOM has the capability to send you back to your own time? How would that impact both you and Harry?”

She thought about his words and shook her head. With her time travel, she realized that little was certain except that James and Lily had a son and that he was her only living family in the future she found herself in. Pretending to be someone else with her nephew was not an option. “No, I won’t lie to Harry. I see what you’re saying, Remus, or what Dumbledore might be saying, but Harry deserves to know the truth. Dumbledore can make demands or requests all he wants, but he cannot force me to hide from my only remaining family.”

Remus sighed in resignation and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dumbledore has his reasons, Liv. He never does anything without them.”

“I know that, trust me.” Her tone was frostier than she had meant it to be.

Sirius, however, smiled at her conviction. “I won’t hide the truth from Harry, either, love.” A plate filled with eggs, toast, and bacon was placed before her. “Here, you need to eat.”

It was the perfect time as her stomach let out a growl. She removed the napkin from her place setting and laid it in her lap. “I’m sorry, Remus. That came across as rude. It’s just… I understand that Dumbledore has his reason, but in this instance, he’s wrong.”

He held up a hand and offered her a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to apologize, Liv.”

As they ate, Liv found herself thinking about Harry. She was curious about what kind of person he was. With Sirius as his guardian, she guessed Harry might be too self-assured and oozing with unnecessary charm. She just hoped that Remus had also been there to help Sirius with parenting so that his calm and empathetic guidance had tempered any potential arrogance.

“Tell me more about Harry.” Sirius and Remus’ faces immediately lit up at the mention of her nephew. “I think I saw him when I landed in the Gryffindor common room, confusing him with Jamie.” She swirled the last remnants of tea in her mug and placed it down on the table. “What is he like? Does he have a streak for trouble? Is he charming like Jamie and twice as arrogant?”

Both men smiled broadly at her question.

“Well, trouble seems to find Harry, much like it did for his father and me,” Sirius beamed. He pushed away his empty plate and rested his arms on the table. “He’s fantastic—a great kid. And one hell of a Quidditch player. Seeker for the Gryffindor team. Made it his First Year.”

“That’s unheard of—a First Year Seeker?” She was impressed. Although she loved flying, she was never into Quidditch like James. It definitely seemed like Harry took after his father with Quidditch.

Remus stretched his long legs under the table and nodded at Sirius’ comments. “Harry is the best of both James and Lily, really. Intelligent, compassionate, empathetic, loyal, and stands up for what’s right, even when it isn’t easy.”

The thought of him being a combination of James and Lily filled her with warmth.

“Yes,” Sirius said, his grey eyes not as bright as before. “A lot is asked of him, but he always meets it head-on.”

Liv noticed a change in his demeanor and wondered what he meant by a lot is asked of him. “Does he come here, to Grimmauld, during the summer and hols, Siri? Or do you stay with him at Potter Manor when he’s on break?” She finished eating her toast and dabbed the corner of her mouth with her napkin. “I can’t imagine he lives alone at Potter Manor unless you decided to raise him there for a bit.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group as Liv’s eyes darted between her brother’s closest friends. Remus rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze hitting the floor, while Sirius’ jaw clenched tightly.

She could see the force that it took for Sirius to unclench his jaw. He let out a shaky breath before he spoke. “I… well… Harry didn’t grow up—” he closed his eyes, pain etched across his features, not able to finish speaking.

Remus had the same look from the previous night before he and Sirius divulged everything that happened while she went missing.

Dread immediately settled into her stomach. “Tell me. Now.”

 

Notes:

Alright, this chapter was supposed to be Liv finding out more about the past and Harry's living situation, but damn, there was too much filler that needed to happen. I'm so sorry!

Appreciate the read and the continued support!

//

No beta, mistakes are mine.

Chapter 7

June 20, 1996 – Contd.

Liv sat in stunned silence, her face pale from being told the details of Sirius’ imprisonment.

Twelve years. Twelve years, Sirius sat in an Azkaban cell, isolated and rotting away for a crime he did not commit. Twelve years of torture by the dementors, living—no,  barely existing—in inhumane conditions. It made her sick, her stomach churning at the injustice of it all. No investigation, no trial, nothing. He should have gone mad after everything he had endured.

For several minutes, the trio sat in silence, the only noise heard was the faucet dripping in the sink at the far end of the kitchen. Sirius’ head hung low, his shoulders visibly shaking. Remus reached across the table and gently touched his arm in support. Liv glanced down in her lap and realized she had gripped her wrist so tightly that the snake charm on her pearl bracelet had left an imprint on her palm.

“Sirius… I…” The words she wanted to speak were stuck in the back of her throat. She attempted to continue, her voice a hoarse whisper, but she trailed off. What could she say? Words felt inadequate for the time he had lost in Azkaban. Words would not give him his life back. Instead, she stood from her spot and moved to his side, pulling him into an embrace.

Sirius hesitantly placed his hand on her arm and squeezed in acknowledgment. The breath he took was shaky as he closed his eyes. When he reopened them, the grey pools were cloudy and a bit unfocused. “Harry was how I survived in that hell hole. Thinking about my godson, slipping into my Animagus form to avoid the constant dementors.” Liv let him go and slid back into her seat at the table. She brushed away tears that had fallen down her face. He paused, taking another shuddering breath, and then continued. “The image of James and Lily protecting Harry will forever be tattooed on my mind. You know my temper... rage consumed me. A pain like nothing I’d ever experienced before tore through my chest, and all I could see was red. Letting my emotions take over was so fucking reckless. If I hadn’t been so set on revenge—if I had been more like…” His shoulders shook again as the words died on his lips.

This time, it was Remus who wrapped his long arms around their friend and held him tightly before pulling back and calming him down. “Pads, look at me—look at me, love. It’s in the past. You’re safe. Harry is safe. You’re with me.”

Sirius gazed into Remus’s dark eyes and nodded, his friend's actions and words grounding him and bringing him back from some precipice that Liv was unsure she fully understood yet.

She observed their interaction, watching how they clung to one another almost desperately. Had they always interacted like this? Had she missed the queues during the summers and holidays spent together at Potter Manor? Or did time and shared tragedy bring them closer? She felt like an interloper, as if the moment between them was something intimate and private, one she should not be witnessing. She swallowed and turned her head away, giving them privacy.

She quietly rose from her seat and took the teapot off the table, carrying it over to a counter next to the stove where a kettle sat on one of the burners. She set the teapot down and reached for her wand to spell the burner lit. An irritated sigh escaped her as her hand met nothing. She missed her wand, realizing just how often she used it for menial tasks such as turning on the stove or brushing her teeth. The knobs were sticky from years of grime, and she grimaced as she touched them, turning the flame on high to heat the kettle. While waiting for the water to boil, she selected a tea tin off the shelf above the stove and added a few hefty scoops to the teapot.

She stared at the kettle, mind wandering as she gave Sirius and Remus a moment. Both men had yet to speak about who raised Harry, but she knew that Sirius being in Azkaban was really the answer she sought. Her instincts told her that Remus had not raised him either. Frustration built up inside of her. It felt like Sirius’ recklessness after finding her brother and Lily at Godric’s Hollow had caused Harry to grow up without his family, most likely leaving him in the hands of strangers. Why did Sirius always have to act first and then seek forgiveness? It was the same way with bullying Severus or any pranks he pulled—the same way he acted when living with her parents at Potter Manor. And this time, his thoughtlessness affected more than just his life—they had also affected his godson’s. Yet, her frustration was quickly quelled as she glanced at Sirius and Remus, both still locked in an embrace—no, that was unfair of her. He had already been hard on himself and suffered enough. He did not deserve her frustration. Besides, she could not be upset at Sirius, especially when her recklessness had brought her into the future. Her life’s what-ifs were just as torturous.

The whistle of the kettle startled her out of her thoughts. She cleared her throat, brushing her curtain bangs out of her face before grabbing a potholder and picking up the hot kettle, pouring the water into the teapot.

When she returned with a fresh pot of tea, Remus had changed seats and sat close to Sirius, their arms resting on the table, hands entwined. They both sent her thankful smiles as she set the teapot on the trivet between them. Sirius had visibly calmed down, and although his eyes were red, they were now dry.

She refilled everyone’s mugs and let Sirius add a splash of milk to hers. “No firewhiskey this time?” She could really go for something stronger as she braced herself for the next part of their conversation.

Her comment seemed to lighten the mood momentarily. Sirius let out a snort, and Remus subtly chuckled.

“I think it’s better if we keep the firewhiskey in its cabinet,” Remus said, dropping two sugars into his tea and mixing it with a small spoon.

“You know,” Liv said, bringing her mug to her lips and blowing over the piping-hot liquid to cool it down. “You used to be much more fun, Remus.” Sirius let out a bark of laughter, choking on his tea. “See, Siri agrees with me.”

Remus wrapped his long fingers around his mug and shook his head. “I don’t remember you being such a smartarse.”

“Yes, well, old age tends to dull the mind.”

Sirius’ tattooed hand slapped the wooden table loudly as he let out another deep laugh.

The three of them sipped their tea for a moment before Liv continued with her thoughts.

“Who raised Harry? Where does he go when he’s not at Hogwarts?” She looked at Remus with a hopeful expression. She prayed to Merlin that her instincts were wrong. “With Sirius being indisposed, I know Jamie would have desired you to have raised him, Remus. I’m sure he would have written it in his will, right?”

There was a pause before a pained expression settled onto Remus’ scarred face, and her heart sank. “I was away on a mission with the werewolf packs when I learned about your brother and Lily’s deaths. As soon as I returned, I sought out Harry, but Dumbledore had already placed him with Lily’s family. I tried Liv. I fought to raise Harry, but I wasn’t his godparent, and the law worked against me at every turn... every request... every appeal.”

Liv digested his words. Severus had spoken about Lily’s family occasionally, but nothing was positive. She knew that Lily had a sister, Petunia, who was a Muggle, and that she was a cold and mean-spirited person, jealous of Lily being a witch. He did not say much about Lily’s parents.

She wondered if Harry had been raised by his grandparents or Petunia. She hoped it was his grandparents.

“Lily’s family raised him? But—but they’re Muggles.” She let out the breath she had been holding in. “Not that I care that they’re Muggles. Just—it would be challenging for them to teach Harry about magic, you know?” She tapped her fingers against her mug as she continued speaking. “I guess that’s better than the Magical Foster System. Family, even Muggles, is better than no family. Right?"

She was met with silence by her brother’s best friends, both wearing varying dark looks on their faces.

Eventually, Remus spoke. “Harry was raised by his aunt and uncle, the Dursleys, in Little Whinging. He—”

Sirius scowled, his arms crossed over his chest, cutting Remus off. “Harry was basically their godsdamn house-elf, living under the stairwell in a cupboard. They forced him to prepare meals, tidy up, and handle who knows what other tasks.”

She watched as Remus gave Sirius a warning look.

“He lived under a cupboard?” she asked cautiously, unsure she was hearing Sirius correctly. “Why... why would he be left with relatives that, that... that’s borderline abuse!” Her voice rose in an anger that matched Sirius’. She stood from her seat, the chair scraping against the stone tiles. She pressed her palms on the table, leaning forward, and continued, her voice upset. “I don’t understand how this happened. Did no one in the Magical world check-in on him? How had his deplorable living conditions gone unnoticed?”

Sirius looked satisfied at her outburst as he rocked back in his chair, but Remus, as usual, emitted calmness with a sad smile on his face. “At the time, I was furious too, and still am a bit at how Harry was treated, but Dumbledore gave us his reasoning. He placed Harry with his aunt and uncle because when Lily gave her life for Harry, she invoked an ancient magic—”

“Familial blood magic,” she whispered before Remus could continue. Her eyes widened as she pieced together what had happened. “Petunia was Lily’s last remaining blood relative, meaning Harry would be protected under her house.” Her brows furrowed. Dumbledore wanted to protect Harry—but why? She wondered what Sirius and Remus were not saying. “So, that’s why you couldn’t raise Harry, Remus. Dumbledore stonewalled you when you tried to obtain guardianship of him. He had the means and advantage to ensure Harry remained at the Dursleys.” There was a lengthy list of reasons as to why she never particularly liked Dumbledore, and this would be added to the list.

Remus said nothing, but she could tell he struggled to maintain his composure. This time, it was Sirius who set his mug down and reached over, grasping Remus’ hand in a comforting gesture.

She downed the rest of her tea and pushed the mug to the side. “Dumbledore's ability to escape consequences for his actions is infuriating. His actions placed Harry in an abusive home. All the familial magic in the world can’t protect against an abusive home and the damage that causes.”

Sirius and Remus had the decency not to try and argue her point. It was obvious that neither of the two was happy with Harry’s situation either.

"Something isn’t adding up,” she said. “I don’t understand… why did Harry need protection after… after my family’s deaths? James’ and Lily’s sacrifice surely was enough to protect him. The war ended.”

The question hung uncomfortably in the air between the three of them.

Sirius cleared his throat first, his face somber. “Voldemort has returned.”

Liv winced at the Dark Lord’s name, even though she tried hiding it. She knew Sirius and Remus saw her wince, but she ignored their raised brows.

The Dark Lord had Returned? How was that possible?

She stood and listened with wide eyes as both men explained what had happened at Hogwarts and the events of Harry's school years up to his current Fifth Year. The Dark Lord’s almost successful second attempt at killing her nephew in the graveyard made her stomach sick. The shock she felt throughout her entire body was evident in how her hands shook. Even though she now held on to her pearl bracelet, she could not stop the anxiety she felt. Every year that Harry was at Hogwarts, he was met with challenges that no ordinary student should experience. No wonder Sirius had mentioned earlier that Harry always rose to the challenges he faced—the kid never had a normal year.

“—so that’s why Harry remains at the Dursley.” Remus concluded, his hand still in Sirius’. “Dumbledore suspected that You-Know-Who hadn't truly been defeated that night at Godric’s Hollow; he believed that he had only slithered away into hiding. Harry needed protection… protection that the most complex wards or a Fidelius charm couldn’t have offered him.”

“Yet, the Dark Lord almost killed him anyway,” Liv said sarcastically. She rubbed her eyes with the tips of her fingers, forcing stars to burst behind her lids. “What in the hell type of future have I arrived in?” She dropped back down in her seat at the kitchen table, defeated.

“One that most of the adults will try hiding from you for as long as possible,” Sirius said with a roll of his eyes.

“What does that mean?” she asked, confused by his tone.

Remus let go of Sirius’ hand and leaned his arms on the table. “Some members of the Order want to shield the children and teens who are still students at Hogwarts from what’s happening.”

“That’s ridiculous. They ought to know what is happening in the world around them.” And then his words fully hit her. “Wait, the Order is back?” Her amber eyes widened as she looked at Remus.

“Indeed. Dumbledore reinstated it immediately following You-Know-Who’s return last year.”

“I offered Grimmauld as its headquarters.” Sirius’ face lifted into a proud smirk. “A big F U to my mother and the entire Black family.”

“So that means Wizarding Britain is on the brink of another war.” A distressed expression spread over Liv’s face. She missed the first one. Apparently, she would be around for the second.

Sirius patted her hand. “Beyond the brink, love. We’re in it now.”

She paused momentarily before asking the next question that came to her mind. She felt that she knew the answer, as it seemed to have happened to those she had loved twenty years ago. “Do you think it’s the same as last time—that the Dark Lord will be recruiting from inside Hogwarts?”

Remus nodded solemnly. “I suspect so, yes.”

The trio sat quietly, each in their own thoughts about what Remus confirmed before Sirius casually ran a hand through his hair and spoke up with a smile. “On a happier note, Harry has stayed here at Grimmauld a few times. Once this past summer and once during the Christmas hols.”

That news did lighten the heaviness in her heart. Remus reached for the teapot, but his cardigan sleeves snagged on the wood. “Damnit,” he muttered.

Sirius immediately palmed his wand and cast a silent Reparo at Remus’ sleeve, stitching up the snag. “He’ll have to spend one more summer month with the Dursleys, but when he comes of age, he’ll be free of them, and his home will be here with Remus and me.”

The idea of Harry having a home at Grimmauld with Sirius and Remus tugged at her heart. Perhaps Potter Manor would be a better home than Grimmauld. “Have either of you been to Potter Manor?” She reached for the teapot and handed it to Remus, who nodded thanks as he took it from her.

“No,” answered Sirius. “Not since James and Lily went into hiding at Godric’ Hollow. I—I tried accessing it once, but the wards wouldn’t let me through. James had closed the Manor up, locking it down with complex protection spells while they were away.”

That made sense. The Potter Manor had been in their family for generations. It was her and Harry’s birthright. She hoped that it hadn’t become derelict like Grimmauld. “Depending on what happens to me with the DOM, maybe I’ll try to access the Manor. The wards may require a few drops of my blood to take them down.” She assumed the protections James had set up were blood wards. The idea of Potter Manor without her parents, though, was slightly jarring. “On second thought, I think I’ll wait. The last time I was home was for Easter hols. Everyone was so happy and… and alive. I can’t…” her words trailed off.

Before either Sirius or Remus could reply, a loud pop reverberated in the kitchen, startling Liv. She immediately turned towards the location of the noise and saw Kreacher standing in the space. He looked even more ancient than the last time she had seen him twenty years ago. His tea towel was ratty with dirt spots smeared over it. His disheveled state alarmed her.

“Kreacher?” Liv gently called out to the house-elf.

Kreacher's dark, sunken eyes widened in shock as he gazed at her. His bony fingers trembled as he narrowed his eyes at her, a look of disbelief etched on his wrinkled face as he walked toward where the trio sat. "Young Mistress Liv? How can this be?" He continued his slow approach until he stood directly in front of her. Despite sensing Sirius' irritation next to her, neither she nor Kreacher paid him any attention. Kreacher sank into a deep bow, his long nose nearly brushing the floor. "Young Mistress Liv remains unchanged while everyone else around her has changed. Kreacher has failed. Kreacher has failed Young Master Regulus," he cried, his voice turning into a muffled wail and mumbled words as he tugged at his ears in distress.

Sirius threw his chair back, standing, and yelled at Kreacher to stop his tantrum.

“Sirius!” she shouted over Kreacher’s outburst, “I don’t think yelling at him will help!” Sirius rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in annoyance. She left her chair and knelt in front of the shaking and howling house-elf. Slowly and deliberately, she placed a hand on his small shoulder. “Kreacher,” she said imperiously, “you need to stop. You need to listen to me and Sirius.”

At her words, Kreacher stopped his wailing and composed himself. “Yes, Young Mistress Liv. Kreacher will stop.”

Sirius threw his hands up in the air. “You’ve got to be taking the piss. My own house-elf listens to her more than anyone in this wretched place.” He dropped unceremoniously into the wooden chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. Remus patted his shoulder sympathetically.

Her focus was still on the ancient house-elf, caught up by what he had said, her hands still gently holding his bony shoulders. “Kreacher, what do you mean you failed? You said you failed Young Master Regulus?” Her voice remained surprisingly calm despite the jumbled mess inside her at the mention of Regulus.

Kreacher started repeatedly pulling on his ears and reciting that he had failed, over and over, but he never mentioned Regulus again.

Sirius’ voice boomed over Kreacher’s wail-filled cries, sending a stern glare at the house-elf. “Enough of that, Kreacher!” He turned to look at Liv. “It’s all mumbling, Liv. He’s half mad. Anything that comes out of his mouth is either vile or absurd.”

Finally calming down, Kreacher’s dark eyes cleared. It was as if he remembered why he had come into the kitchen in the first place. He turned to Sirius and scowled at his master. “Kreacher has prepared the guest accommodations for the blood traitors and Mudbloods as Master has requested.”

Sirius simply waved Kreacher off with his hand and let out a long-suffering sigh.

The sneer Kreacher sent Remus as he walked away from the table back towards the stairwell at the end of the kitchen startled Liv. “Filthy half-breed. If my Mistress was here…”

As soon as Kreacher was out of earshot, Liv pushed herself off the floor, her mind still racing, thinking about Kreacher’s ramblings. She sent Remus an apologetic look for Kreacher’s nastiness.

“What happened to Kreacher, Siri? He was never this… deranged the last time I saw him.” Deranged was the nicest way she could put it. She started gathering the empty mugs, breakfast plates, and platters off the table, bringing them to the sink.

“He spent years alone in this dreadful house with only my mother’s painting as company, whispering in his ear, poisoning him. Granted, he was never a kind house-elf, at least to me. Putting him out of his misery would seem almost kinder, but I can’t bring myself to do it.”

The irony did not escape her as she compared Kreacher’s isolation at Grimmauld and Sirius’ isolation in Azkaban. “No, Kreacher doesn’t deserve that. It’s not his fault that your mother died and didn’t think to leave anything in her will to give him purpose again.”

She placed the dirty dishes and mugs in the sink. Remus stood and walked over, pointing his wand at the mess. With a flick of his wrist, he magicked the dishes to wash, dry, and put themselves away.

“Who will be staying here at Grimmauld?” she asked Sirius as she moved out of the way, leaning against the wooden cutting block in the middle of the kitchen. “Kreacher mentioned that he prepared your guest rooms?”

“The Weasley family and a couple of other Order members. Staying here, under the Fidelius, is much safer than their homes.”

She wasn't sure who the Weasleys were. She knew the Prewett twins had a sister who married a Weasley. Perhaps that was the same family. “That’s kind of you, Siri. I know this House… being stuck here and letting others use it is a big ask.”

Sirius shrugged, hands thrust in his pockets as he hopped onto the stair landing. “It’s the least I can do.”

Remus turned around from the sink. “There’s an Order Meeting tonight. If you’d like, Liv, you can meet some of the members.”

“Shacklebolt, Mad-Eye Moody, and Tonks, to name a few,” Sirius called down from where he stood at the top of the stairs.

Liv followed Sirius’ lead, and Remus walked after her. “I don’t have a background story yet. Surely those who were around when I disappeared will notice the uncanny resemblance.”

“We’ll think of something,” Remus replied, his voice echoing in the narrow stairwell.

She turned her head to glance at him, her expression clearly skeptical. “Sure, we’ll think of something.”

 

Notes:

Appreciate the read and the continued support!

//

No beta, mistakes are mine.