i beg to differ

by hitorimaron

Summary:

“Need help?” Cedric asked. He asked him.

Harry did not reply, instead swerving around in search of his younger self. He did not spot him anywhere though.

“Harry?”

“Are you talking to me?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Yes?” Cedric asked. He must have seen something in his expression then, because the next thing he said was: “It’s alright, portkeys can be quite disorienting. Take your time.” But that was just it, Cedric shouldn’t have been seeing anything in his face. Not if-

And then Cedric touched him. Just a hand pressed gently against Harry’s shoulder, warm and firm.

Their magic collided, causing a spark. Cedric snatched his hand away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” But it was too late for that. Harry was already startled. He was way beyond startled now.

OR

A time-travel fix-it fic nobody asked for.

Notes:

INTERNET: “Don't start your story with a character waking up.”

ME: *Proceeds to start each and every chapter with the main character waking up out of pure spite.*

You have been warned.

Chapter 1

Harry felt as though a hook just behind his navel had been suddenly jerked irresistibly forward. His feet left the ground, his surroundings disappeared all around him, breaking into pieces, getting smaller and smaller. They swirled around, darkness consuming them one by one, pulling them apart, swallowing them whole until there was only weightless darkness.

He reached out his hand, stretching out his fingertips, an entourage of spells on the tip of his tongue, but the darkness convulsed around him before he could speak any of them out. Pressure built up around him, squishing him from the sides, the hook in his navel jerked backwards and then he was speeding through the darkness, colors appearing back in his sight one by one until they turned into a massive wave and then-

And then-

His feet slammed into the ground. A heavy body staggered into him. He almost went down with it, but his instincts kicked in quickly enough. He pivoted out of the way, knee hitting the grass beneath.

A thud came from behind him, followed by a grumpy “Oof.” But Harry paid it little to no attention, he had a shield covering his back before the sound even came out of the person behind him.

He exhaled harshly, hoping it would push the swirling dots out of his vision. His fingers curled in the grass as he pressed at his magic to calm down, his body aching as if he’d pulled every muscle in it. 

He took a second to compose himself.

And then he looked up. What he saw punched the wind out of him all over again.

It was Cedric Diggory.

Cedric Diggory was standing above him, his windswept hair falling into his eyes, his cheeks flushed, his clothes in slight disarray, but alive, oh-so-alive.

“Oh, sorry, mate,” came from behind him, a voice familiar to him, red hair flashing in the corner of his eyes as Ron got to his feet. Hermione was right next to him, patting his shoulder as he shook out the grass sticking to his jacket.

“Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill,” said a voice from further down the hill, joining in the cacophony of different voices all around him. Harry tore his eyes away from Cedric, moving his head to look down the hill at the campsite covered in thick morning mist.

Ah.

He almost relaxed, ready to enjoy the familiar memory. His head swirled back and looked at Cedric, he just wanted to see those eyes again, see the life buried deep inside, the- the hand in his face?

“Need help?” Cedric asked. He asked him . 

Harry did not reply, instead swerving around in search of his younger self. He did not spot him anywhere though.

“Harry?”

“Are you talking to me?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Yes?” Cedric asked. He must have seen something in his expression then, because the next thing he said was: “It’s alright, portkeys can be quite disorienting. Take your time.” But that was just it, Cedric shouldn’t have been seeing anything in his face. Not if-

Harry ignored the hand and got to his feet, cautiously surveying his surroundings.

“Finite incantatem ,” he muttered, poking at his magical core. The magic inside of him did not respond as readily as would have under normal circumstances, but these were definitely not normal circumstances. Something wasn’t right.

“Harry, wha-”

“ Revelio ,” he casted next, prodding the area around him. His magic trickled out, slow as a snail, barely responding to his insistence. It was starting to-

And then Cedric touched him. Just a hand pressed gently against Harry’s shoulder, warm and firm.

Their magic collided, causing a spark. Cedric snatched his hand away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” But it was too late for that. Harry was already startled. He was way beyond startled now.

He grabbed Cedric’s hand before it could move out of reach, forcing his magic in.

“Tergeo ,” he hissed, pushing his magic deeper than one would, hoping it would wash anything out of this person’s system. Because it wasn’t Cedric really, it couldn’t have been-

Not-Cedric’s only reaction was to look over his shoulder. “Mr. Weasley,” he started saying, slowly lifting his free hand. “I think Harry might have-” His eyes flickered back to Harry’s face, presumably searching for the right word to describe his state and Harry jumped right on it with a sharp: “ Legilimens .”

What little magic did respond to his command collided with the strong shields Not-Cedric had set up inside of his own mind. Harry’s magic rebounded and snapped back, slamming into him.

He shuddered, feeling his legs buckle underneath him.

“Harry!” came from four different directions.

“Wait, no, give him a moment,” called out Cedric’s voice. “I think he’s got portkey sickness.”

“You heard him, Hermione, give him some space.”

“But-”

“What’s going on?” 

“Harry’s feeling sick.”

“Oh dear, was this his first time?”

“I think so.”

“Oh, I hope he-”

“You guys go ahead, we can-”

“We’re not leaving without Harry-”

“Harry, are you…?”

“Are you okay, Harry?”

When Harry came back to himself, he was clutching Not-Cedric's forearms, his strength the only thing holding him upright. 

“What is this?” he demanded to know.

“Portkey sickness, my boy,” he heard Arthur say, but that wasn’t it. That couldn’t have been it.

“Is it?” he gritted out, glaring up at Not-Cedric, who apparently did not deem his question worthy of a response.

“Breathe. It will pass soon,” Arthur soothed.

“Just breathe, Harry, like he said.”

“Need some water?”

“Or some snacks? We got plenty of those."

Harry’s head snapped up, staring at the complete set of Weasley twins rummaging in their bags.

“Not any of the-” Hermione scolded, when she noticed them bring out a box of tarts.

“These are regular jam tarts, Hermione,” George scoffed.

“Yes,” Fred said. “It's the custard creams you've got to watch out for."

Hermione’s scowl deepend, but Harry did not hear what she responded, because he was- he tore his eyes away from Fred and glanced down at Not-Cedric’s forearms, registering the warmth of them, the faint heartbeat filtering into his fingertips where he pressed a bit too hard. He stared… and noticed he was wearing Dudley’s old clothes.

Oh.

He let go of Cedric-

“Wow, easy there.”

-and looked up at his left hand. He turned it over, studying the pristine skin between his knuckles and his wrist.

He took a step back, this time turning his metaphorical mind on the inside to take a good look at his magical core - it was contained safely behind the underage lock. There was only a small funnel to guide it out. 

“Okay,” he said aloud, not sure if he did so for his own benefit or for that of the people around him. “It’s okay now.”

But it wasn’t.

Not at all.

 

-

 

His legs felt still a little unsteady as the group walked down the hill, heading for the small stone cottage next to the designated gate. Cedric was walking next to him, stubbornly avoiding the insistent gesturing his father sent his way from in front of them.

“Are you feeling better?” Cedric asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

“He said he’s fine, mate,” Ron called up from behind them, pushing a whole tart into his mouth. As soon as he gulped it down, feathers exploded all over his body. The twins laughed maniacally.

“Oh, no, boys!” Mr. Weasley cried out, immediately turning around to herd Ron out of the sight of the stone cottage. “Amos, help me set him right before the muggle sees.”

The twins cackled even louder.

“Shush!” Hermione scolded. “The statute of secrecy is a serious thing, you shouldn’t be laughing at any of this.”

“Bwak-bwak bwaaak!” Fred said, mimicking a chicken as he danced around them.

“Bwaaaak,” echoed George, spinning around in the other direction.

“Boys!”

Harry snorted, watching the mayhem unwrap right in front of him. His heart ached watching Fred hook his elbow on George's. They danced in a circle, singing a song about a chicken that turned into an egg.

“Haven’t heard that one in a while,” Cedrig noted.

“I’ve never actually heard it before,” Harry realized, frowning.

“It’s a pretty common nursery rhyme.”

Still. This whole thing…

“I was brought up by muggles,” Harry explained automatically.

“Ah.”

He couldn’t remember any of this.

“I think you were supposed to leave right after that Basil guy said that your campside is the other way around,” Harry remarked, his mind whirling in a million different directions.

Was this really happening? Was he really…?

Cedric looked over at him, shrugging. “Does it really matter what gate we use? It’s one big campsite, we can get to our area through it.”

“It might matter. I don’t know,” Harry said.

They watched as the twins finally offered Ron the oh-so-needed antidote, then started to pat the feathers off him. Mr. Weasley and Mr. Diggory vanished the bright feathers as soon as they touched the grass beneath. Hermione seemed like she wanted to help, but in the end she just decided to stand there with her hands on her hips, looking very disapproving.

“I wanted to apologize,” Harry started saying just as Cedric started his own sentence: “The magic you used up on the hill…”

Harry turned to him. “Sorry about that. I was sort of- I obviously overreacted.”

“Not that weird with your track record,” Cedric allowed. 

“Right, I’m sorry either way. My track record is not an excuse to use any of the spells I did on you.”

Cedrig dismissed his apology with a careless wave of his hand.

“Speaking of the spells though…”

“I couldn't identify where I was or who I was with. The spells were nothing special given the situation.”

“...wandless though?”

“I couldn’t find my wand,” Harry deflected, knowing now that it was carelessly lying at the bottom of his backpack. That might have been a blessing in disguise. 

“The way your magic moved, I've never-”

Harry shrugged. “I am the Boy-Who-Lived,” he said mockingly. “I might just have a strong magical core.”

“You do,” Cedric allowed. “But a strong core or not, the way you commanded your magic, especially with the underage lock on it. It moved like-” he obviously didn’t have words to describe it, so a shrug and a gentle shake of his head later, he said: “I’ve never seen anybody cast like that.”

Harry pursed his lips, weighing his options.

Fuck it.

 “Think anybody else noticed?”

Cedric startled at that, his eyes growing rounder. They flitted to the group finishing up the de-chickening. “No, I don’t think so,” he said quickly. “It didn’t stretch beyond me… I think.  And there is too much magic emitting from the campsite for anything like that to be noticeable.”

Harry nodded. “Good.” And then took a step back to go and catch up to Mr. Weasley and the rest of the group hurrying down the hill.

“You won’t even ask me to keep it a secret?” Cedric asked in a hushed voice, following after him.

“I don’t think I have to,” Harry answered. “You’ll do it anyways, won’t you, Cedric?”

Cedric pursed his lips. “I mean, you obviously don’t want anybody to know.”

“I don’t.”

Mr. Weasley, who seemed to have sorted out the payment with Mr. Roberts, was ushering the kids inside of the campsite. Amos Diggory tore himself from the group, aggressively pointing to the path curling around Mr. Roberts’ cottage, leading to the left.

Cedric stopped. “I’ll keep your secret, Harry.”

“I know you will,” Harry said. 

“Cool, I’ll see you around.”

Before he could turn and follow his dad, Harry’s hand grabbed his biceps. “You be careful, okay?”

“Sure,” Cedric said, visibly confused.

“You promise?”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Just promise.”

“I promise.”

With that, Harry let go of him and as he let go of his arm, it was as if the only tether holding him in the present time tore. The hook in his navel jerked him back, making him lose the ground beneath his feet. And then his body fell through the darkness again.

Chapter 2

The next thing Harry felt was pain in both of his kneecaps. He folded over a fallen desk, bracing himself at the edge of it until the pain lessened. When he looked up, blinking the dark swirling spots away from his eyes, he noticed he was standing right in front of the whole class of young Gryffindors. Hermione was eying him with concern, Ron seemed angry and Neville at the back looked like he was going to throw up. 

Ah, it’s this one.

“Now, that’s more like it!” came Moody’s voice from behind him. “Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it!”

Harry straightened up, looking over at Barty Crouch Jr. parading around as Alastor Moody. As if reading his mind, Barty took out his silver flask, took a long sip from it and grimaced as he gulped down the Polyjuice. As quick as it appeared it once again disappeared back inside his coat. He then raised his wand again. “Let’s try that again, Potter,” he said and Harry could swear he saw amusement in that one human eye of his. Color him surprised.

“The rest of you, pay attention, watch his eyes, that’s where you see it,” he continued, his wand jerking with badly concealed excitement.

Harry frowned, but said nothing. There hasn't really been time to think about any of the events unfolding around him yet, but- 

“Alright,” Barty said, smiling. He swung his wand Harry’s way and- “Imperio!” 

Harry let the spell enter a small lovely area at the front of his mind, isolated from the rest of it, quarantined away from his magical core. The Imperious curse filled it up to the brim, pressing against the walls of its prison. It did not leak through. Harry did not allow it to. 

“Get down on all fours and bark like a dog,” he could hear Barty say next.

Harry’s mouth curled in distaste. 

What a fucking joke.

“Get down,” Barty repeated, swaying his hand in time with each word. 

Harry exhaled, blinked a couple of times and then shook his head.

“Bark like a dog,” Barty hissed.

“No,” Harry said, watching him impassively. He let the Imperius curse swirl enticingly around for a moment longer and then pushed it out.

Barty lowered his wand at that, cackling. “Very good, Potter, very good indeed!” He then turned back to the class. “Right, who’s next?”

Harry sat back down and spent the remainder of the lesson wondering if he should just dispose of Barty right now or leave him to his fate. As he watched him torture his classmates for the remained of the class, he felt very much inclined to just get rid of him, consequences be damned. 

 

-

 

Harry hobbled out of the classroom. He was followed closely by Ron who was holding his head. Hermione seemed generally unharmed as she followed along on Harry’s other side, but her face was all red from when Barty made her repeat the phrase “I am stupid.” until she started to cry.

Barty really was walking on thin ice with Harry’s patience. Even if they were just mostly childish pranks, traumatizing a whole generation of Hogwarts’ students ranked pretty high on the list of what Harry felt inclined to change.

The list in question was growing rapidly in length the longer he thought about it, but the worry of irreversibly fucking things up outshined its content. For now at least. 

“Do you guys know if Cedric happened to put his name in the Goblet of Fire yet?” he asked, eying them.

“Cedric?” asked Ron blankly, rubbing his hip in distaste.

“Cedric Diggory,” said Harry. “He’ll be entering the tournament, right?”

“That idiot? Hogwarts’ champion?” said Ron as they pushed their way through the chattering crowd toward the staircase. 

“He’s not an idiot. You just don’t like him because he beat Gryffindor at Quidditch,” Hermione argued. “I’ve heard he’s a really good student. And he’s a Prefect.”

“Well, for one, he sucks at Quidditch,” Ron argued, turning to Harry as if he expected Harry to back him up. He didn’t.

“He beat Harry that one time,” Hermione argued.

“He only did that because there was a swarm of dementors trying to suck Harry’s soul out.”

“Well, he beat him.”

Ron spluttered, his face growing red. “You… you only like him because he’s handsome,” he accused Hermione.

“Excuse me, I don’t like people just because they’re handsome!”

Ron gave a loud false cough, which sounded oddly like “Lockhart!” and at that point Harry decided to just walk off in a different direction. The two kept arguing as he walked down the staircase, but their voices faded down quickly when he swerved to take a shortcut through a hidden passage behind a tapestry to get a look at the Marauder's Map. From there he proceeded on his way to the kitchens.

The hallway leading to the kitchens revealed the stack of barrels he was searching for. He scanned the assembly, chose the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row and tapped at it accordingly. The lid swung open, exposing a passageway that was too small to walk through upright. Harry crouched, put his hand on the bottom of the barrel and as he did so, the entrance sucked him in like a vacuum cleaner. He appeared in an awkward crouch on the other side of the barrel, standing in the Hufflepuff common room.

Harry stood up, moving out of the way just in case the entrance decided to teleport somebody else in and then walked around the edges of the brightly lit common room. There were a lot of students from different houses lazing around among the Hufflepuffs - a Ravenclaw girl sitting on the fluffy carpet laid out over the floor chatting away with her mates, a Slytherin boy leaning back into a huge bean bag pressed against the column near the fireplace with a book in his lap, two Gryffindor girls swinging in a net hung up between the pillars, laughing. 

Harry scanned the crowd and when he didn’t find who he was looking for, he slipped through an archway leading to the boy’s dormitories in search of a very specific number on the door. He knocked on the door and waited.

“Come on in,” yelled out an unfamiliar voice. Harry opened the door and found a Hufflepuff boy sitting behind a transfigured desk, folding origami paper - there were cranes in the air above his head, the bed next to him had a flock of colorful butterflies on it, the space under his bed was full of bright yellow chicks made out of paper. 

“Why if it isn’t Harry Potter, ” the boy drawled, glancing at the bed on the other side of the dormitories with Cedric Diggory lying on it carelessly, an open book pressed against his chest.

Cedric jerked up when he noticed him, the book falling down to his lap. “Oh, Harry, hi. What-”

“Do you have a minute?” Harry asked.

“Yes, of course,” Cedric answered, scrambling out of the bed. He threw the book on the pillow. It bounced off it, scattering on the floor, but Cedric paid it no attention, smoothing out his robes as he headed out of the room. He beckoned Harry to follow him back into the common room, where he stole two fluffy pillows from a group of giggling girls and then walked to a corner partially hidden by a huge Monstera plant.

Cedric threw both pillows on the ground, then flopped down on one of them and proceeded to set up wards around them.

“Neat,” Harry commented, reaching out to touch the shimmering wards enveloping them in a warm bubble. He pushed his own magic forward, strengthening them against more prying ears and then turned to Cedric with a smile on his face. “There, much better.”

“I’ll say,” Cedric said, surveying the wards for a second, then turning back to Harry. “I’m surprised you’re here, willing to talk to me. I’ve been trying to catch you for a word or two ever since the World Cup.”

Harry pursed his lips. “Have you?”

“Yes and I was very obvious about it too,” Cedric said. “So before you say whatever you came here to say, let me just do my part first.” He leaned in forward. “You knew, didn’t you? Back at the camp. You knew something like that was going to happen afterwards, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Harry confirmed.

Cedric nodded. “But you didn’t try to stop it.”

“In my defense I knew about it when I was talking to you, but then I didn’t know anymore.”

“So what… you’re a seer with amnesia?”

“Hardly.”

“So… you’re a part of some resistance against the dark forces and… it was all part of some bigger plan?”

“That would have been a pretty fucked-up plan.”

“You didn't answer the question.”

Harry thought about it. “No to both of those, I guess. Depends.”

“Not a definite no then.”

“Not a definite no… I’m afraid it's more complicated than that.”

“That another one of your big secrets? Like the wandless thing? I didn’t tell anyone by the way.”

“Didn’t expect you to tell anybody.” Harry picked at the thread on the pillow, letting the silence ring out around them as he weighed his options. He had come this far already, he might as well… 

“So…” Cedric prompted, sensing the change in his thoughts.

Harry sighed. “Have you entered your name in the Goblet of Fire yet?”

“Why?”

“Have you?”

“No, but I intend to.”

“What if I asked you not to?” he wondered, looking up at Cedric.

“I would probably enter anyway.”

Harry nodded. “What if I said you’d die if you do it?”

“Then I would say you wouldn't be the first one to tell me that. Dumbledore warned us about that, many of the professors did so as well and yet…”

“And yet…”

“I am well aware of the dangers of the Tournament. And I am entering regardless of them.”

Harry studied him for a moment. “Do you want to die?”

Cedric startled. “Not really, no. I will do my darndest to survive provided the Goblet of Fire picks me to represent Hogwarts… you say it like it will pick me. Is that another one of your small prophecies?”

“Not a prophecy, but it will happen if you enter.”

“How do you know that?”

Harry pursed his lips, unsure.

“How?” Cedric insisted.

“Same way I knew about the Cup stuff.”

“Which is?”

Harry leaned away, studying the lush green leaves of the Monstera plant. “You wouldn’t believe me.”

“I am a wizard. There aren’t many things I wouldn't believe. Try me.”

Harry hesitated, but in the end, he could use a skilled ally in all of this and Cedric already knew about some of it, so why not just seal the deal? What's the worst that could happen to him that hasn't happened to him yet?

“I appear to be traveling back in time,” he confessed.

“You have a time turner?”

“No, this is more than just a couple of hours.”

Cedric frowned. “How much more?”

“Like ten years… give or take, I am not sure. The details are a bit hazy.”

“Ten years? But then… wait, how much do you actually know about time travel, because I don’t want to preach the choir, but-”

Harry shrugged. “Not much. Hermione talked about it back in the third year… last year actually. She had a time turner for a bit there.”

“She… what? How?”

“Apparently to be able to attend all the lessons she wanted to.”

“What the actual-” Cedric shook his head, lifting his hand as if to push the thoughts away. “Never mind that now. From what little I do remember, time travel through longer periods of time is not recommended, because… if you go back ten years, you’ll automatically gain those ten years back when you return, right?”

“Oh, that’s not so bad.”

“Well, it’s ten years of your life.”

“For somebody who worries about me losing ten years of my life, you’re awfully eager to join a potentially deadly tournament.”

“Pot, meet kettle,” was all Cedric said to that.

Harry sighed, leaning away from him. “You sure I can’t just persuade you to drop the whole thing somehow?” He wondered. “If you do believe me to come from the future, wouldn’t you listen when I say you will die?”

“Then I’ll just have to try harder not to,” Cedric argued stubbornly. He even folded his arms over his chest as if to drive his point in deeper.

“There is a story behind that stubbornness, isn’t there?” Harry wondered idly.

“There’s a story behind yours too, I bet.”

“Myea,” Harry allowed.

Cedric nodded, dropping his arms back to his knees.

“Maybe you just don’t believe me,” Harry said. 

“Oh no, I actually do.”

“Really? Hard to imagine it would be that easy to persuade anybody about this particular thing.”

“Well, in your defense, you did give me some proof, so…” Cedrig shrugged as if it was that simple.

“All very vague stuff though.”

“Well… I suppose I’ll have my proof when the Goblet of Fire picks me.”

“I… yeah, about that...”

“What?”

Harry shook his head, pressing his fingers against his forehead. “No, nevermind, I should maybe be careful with some of the finer details.”

“Worried you’ll change some things?”

“Worried I’ll change the wrong things, yeah. I’d prefer to keep things as they were for now. That will give me an advantage moving forward… but I don’t exactly have a solid strategy for any of this. It’s only my second jump.”

“So you think you’ll keep jumping forward?”

“Guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

“Guess so… aren’t you worried you already changed too much? I doubt we had a conversation like this the first time around, or?”

“No,” Harry snorted. “No yeah, but… I think this is fine.”

“Is this why you came back? To talk me out of the Tournament?” Cedrid raised his hands to stop Harry from answering. “How did you do that anyway?”

Harry frowned, trying to recall. His hand automatically strayed to the hook deep inside of his navel. He could still feel it there, waiting patiently. For what, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before it pulled him away again.

“I’m not sure how I am doing this… it’s really hard to focus on the future me. Something about this body, about not having enough time to-”

“Take your time now then,” Cedric offered.

“I probably shouldn’t,” Harry said. “Not here. I didn’t stay that long the last time and if things continue on in the same pattern then my younger self comes back to in the Hufflepuff dormitory with you and... I think the young me already has enough to deal with.”

“Won’t there be memory gaps either way?”

Harry shrugged. “Who’d notice an hour here or there gone?”

“Everyone?” Cedric said in disbelief.

“Nah, it’ll be fine.”

“Alright, well… we should set up some sort of secret sign for when you’re around next time, so that I know it’s safe to approach you.”

“It’s safe to approach me either way.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Myea, let’s see… something I’d potentially not say to you then.”

Cedric took a moment to think about it. “Just call me Rick whenever you’re around. I’ll know it’s the future you then.”

“Or I could just do this.” Harry reached over, encircling Cedric’s wrist with his fingers. He then let his magic seep down into Cedric’s skin, meeting his own magical core. A spark sizzled between them. 

“Err yeah… that works too,” Cedric muttered, staring at the connection Harry created. “You should teach me that sometimes.”

Harry laughed, letting go of him. “Survive long enough and maybe I will.”

“Deal,” Cedric said, determined.

Harry nodded, getting up. He almost canceled the wards around them to leave, but changed his mind in the last possible second, turning back around. “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful around Moody, he’s-”

“Mad?”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Got it.”

Harry nodded one last time and then brought down the wards around them with a swift wave of his hand. He walked out of the Hufflepuff common room. The hook in his navel let him walk up the flights of stairs and when he was at the top, almost in front of the Gryffindor common room it pulled him back in the darkness.

Chapter 3

Harry landed in an armchair in the Gryffindor common room, his invisibility cloak draped over the armrest. The room was bathed in semi-darkness, which helped with his initial dizziness. He sat there for a while, his eyes scanning the room. They eventually landed on the small glinting objects strewn across the wooden side table in front of the fireplace - the “Support Cedric Diggory!” batches. They flashed as they registered his interest. A sickly green color poured over the front. It left the words “POTTER REALLY STINKS” behind. Harry paused, his eyes jumping immediately to the hearth on the right side.

He waited with bated breath, watching the burning timber lay there motionlessly. When it moved, Harry leaped out of the chair, crouched down close to the hearth and watched Sirius materialize inside of it.

“Sirius? ” he asked, shell-shocked. His godfather looked exactly as Harry remembered him - his hair cut short, his beard trimmed into a neat goatee, his face full and healthy.

“I-” Harry was at a loss for words. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many horrible words threatening to spill out of his mouth, but he did not dare to utter any of them. “How are you?” he settled on at last. 

“Never mind me, how are you, kiddo?”

“Can we not talk about me? I would prefer listening to you talk about… something, anything,” Harry confessed hoarsely. “What have you been up to? Are you- how’s… how’s Buckbeak?”

Sirius shot him a worried look, but answered anyway. “He’s fine. I left Buckbeak back at… at the place we’re staying at. Sorry for being too vague about the whole thing. I can’t exactly say more than that. We put it under Fidelius just in case, so-”

Harry nodded. “Someone you can trust?”

“Yes, someone we both trust.” Sirius turned unsure. “Maybe once all of this stuff blows over… I mean, I have said that last year too and at this point it must feel like empty words to you, but… it’s a really nice place. It's well protected and has… I mean, it's not an official Black estate, that much I can say, so it’s not that marvelous. Nothing near any of those. But those are locked off for me right now anyways, so talking about that would be… what I mean to say, I would very much like to show you one day. Maybe over the summer? For a couple of days? I know you probably already have plans to spend the time with your friends and all, but-”

“I would love to visit,” Harry said. “Sounds like a really great place honestly.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “I didn’t exactly tell you anything about it yet, not really.”

“It has you in it, Padfood,” Harry said. “Even a cupboard would suffice.”

“A cupboard, Harry? We’re not barbarians.” Sirius sniffed, afforded. “There is… you know there are a couple of guest rooms. If you’d… want you can have one. Merlin knows I’m not having any guests here anytime soon.”

Harry pretended to think about it. “Can I do whatever I want to it?”

“Of course.”

“Hmm, I’m thinking green walls-”

“Now, hold on, Harry…”

Harry laughed.

“You cheeky bastard!” Sirius laughed with him. “You know what? I'll go paint it green right after this call. That will teach you to not mess with me.”

Harry shrugged. “Green is a nice enough color.”

Sirius looked him in the eyes. “It sure is. “

“Anything else you can tell me about this place of yours?” Harry asked before he could choke on his own words. “Is there like… nature around? Do you get to go outside?”

“Oh yeah, there is a small forest within the wards,” Sirius confirmed. “Buckbeak stays there mostly, unless um… unless it's a full moon, you know. He is too smart to go out then.”

Harry ignored the tiny piece of information, choosing to instead prompt his godfather to talk about the forest itself, about the long runs in his dog form, about the short walks in his human form, the flights on his broom, the naps on the moss-covered ground, the tingle of magic woven into it filling him up with peace...

“I can’t believe this is what you want to know." Sirius laughed, the sound caressing Harry’s heart. “I had a whole bunch of serious topics planned for us.”

“It’s nice not to talk about serious stuff all the time,” Harry said.

Sirius frowned. “Are you sure you’re alright, Harry?”

Harry shrugged, choosing to not answer the question.

“Worried about the Triwizard tournament?” Sirius guessed.

“Yeah, kinda,“ Harry confessed. “People die in this thing.”

“You’ll be fine, I promise.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about." Harry looked at him. “I don’t want anybody to die. I can’t-”

“Now you listen to me, Harry,” Sirius said sternly. “That’s a very noble sentiment, but if it ever comes down to it, you-”

“Sirius…”

“No, you listen to me, alright? It’s about time somebody told you this and I know I am not the most qualified person to do it… and I don’t even, Merlin, I wish there was more time…” Sirius shook his head as if to clear it. “Bad things are coming, I keep hearing things all over… Death Eaters appearing at the Cup? That wasn’t a one-off thing, I’m sure. Karkaroff arriving at Hogwarts and your name suddenly being forced out of the Cup? That’s not a coincidence, you hear me? That’s someone trying to take you down. But you can’t let them, alright? You’re gonna fight, even if you have to fight dirty, even if… even if somebody else has to die in your stead, you keep surviving, you hear me? And you ask for help, you fucking ask for help when needed, alright? Enough of this-”

And that’s when it came, the shuffling. They could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind him. 

Sirius paused. “Is it...?”

“Somebody’s coming,” Harry confirmed. “Go.”

Sirius hesitated.

“Go,” Harry repeated. “And say hi to Moony to me.”

Sirius snorted, giving him a short sharp nod before disappearing into the timber, the worn wood splitting in the middle causing a loud crack.

Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and hid within its folds mere seconds before Ron appeared in the doorway, squinting sleepily into the empty common room.

“Hello?” he called out, but Harry kept silent, watching him tiredly. Watching Ron until he disappeared back upstairs.

 

-

 

Harry was wandering aimlessly through the Hogwarts’ corridors, his mind restless, his legs unable to stay still, the invisibility coat pressed the flush against his skin. He-

He stopped, pressing his fingertips against his closed eyes.

“I can’t fucking do this,” Harry sighed into his palms.

A sudden shuffling noise coming from the end of the corridor made him pause and pull his hands away from his face. A bright circle of Lumos shone directly into his eyes, a tall figure approaching carefully.

“Reveal yourself or I’ll make you,” called out a familiar voice. 

Harry straightened, remaining silent.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I have warded off the corridor. You won’t be able to get away,” Cedric said, swinging his wand back and forth as if he was looking for the invisible culprit.

Harry stepped back and reached out behind him, touching the humming wards through the invisibility cloak.

“Suit yourself,” Cedric said, looking directly at Harry as if he could sense something touching the wards, but couldn’t exactly recognize it. “ Revelio ,” he casted, but nothing happened. 

“Revelio won’t work on this, but a good job nonetheless,” Harry said, pulling off his invisibility cloak. “You caught me.”

“Harry?”

“Hi, Rick,” Harry said, reaching out his hand.

“Oh,” Cedric lowered his wand, but chose not to accept the hand. “I’ve been wondering, if you-”

“Not here,” Harry said, gesturing for Cedric to follow him. He led them up a flight of stairs to the seventh floor, turning left in search of the tapestry where Barnabas the Barmy should have been teaching trolls ballet, but at the moment was nowhere to be found. And neither were the trolls.

“Where are-”

Harry silenced him with a wave of his hand and then started the usual routine of pacing in front of the naked wall until a familiar door appeared. 

“Before we go in, promise me one thing.”

“Promise what?”

“If the younger me comes back while we are still inside, stun him and throw him out,” Harry said. “He’s not supposed to know about this place until next year.”

“Um, okay.”

“Nice. Come on in then,” Harry said and the door swung open by itself as if inviting Cedric in as well. After shooting him an incredulous look, Cedric walked in and so did Harry. The door disappeared back into the wall once they were through.

Inside of the room… wasn’t a room at all. It was a small clearing framed by conifer trees, tall and straight, their tops reaching out to the dark sky covered in thousands of twinkling stars. The moss hushed their steps, the wind rustled their robes-

“What is this place?” Cedric asked, pausing in the middle of the clearing to look around. His wand shone a beam of light through the trees. They seemed to be going on forever.

“It’s called the Room of Requirement,” Harry explained. “You tell it what you require and it provides it.”

“And you required…?”

“Home,” Harry said, throwing his invisibility cloak on the moss and sprawling down right next to it. “Or… you know… the back garden of it. Or a simulation of it, to be more precise.”

“You live here?”

Harry nodded. “It’s a house I inherited from my godfather Sirius Black.”

“Sirius Black was your godfather? The Sirius Black that tried to get inside the castle last year to murder you, but escaped and-”

“It’s a long story,” Harry sighed. 

“Everything seems to be a long story with you,” Cedric noted, but it did not sound bitter. “Nox,” he muttered and sat down a couple of feet from Harry, watching him.

“Did not want to murder me,” Harry summarized. “Not a murderer. But was murdered.”

“He was?”

“He will be.” Harry sighed. “Next year.”

“Oh, did you come back to prevent it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Still hazy on the details?”

“Yeah.”

“How many times have you been back since the common room?”

“None, this is right after for me.”

“Oh.”

“Why?"

"I thought… maybe…” Cedric hesitated. 

“Maybe what?

“I thought maybe you appeared just in time to put your name in the Goblet of Fire. Or try to throw out mine, but failed massively.”

Harry sat up, frowning over at Cedric. “Ahh… now I kinda wish I did that. Think the age line would let me through? It didn’t let the twins through when they aged their bodies, but maybe with this older mind of mine inside, it would have been enough?”

“I don’t know.”

“I wonder if I could have fucked up the Goblet if I had tried,” Harry mused. “Hmm probably not with these underage restrictions on my core… wait, did you think I did this?”

“Well, what else was I supposed to think? The last time we talked, you tried to persuade me to not enter at all.”

“Ohh, wait, waiiit, you asked me right after they released us from the kick-off meeting. You asked me if I did it, didn’t you?” Harry explained in wonder. “Is that why you asked? How… how am I remembering this? Is this something you did in both timelines or did my brain just update itself as I fell through time? Is this why I feel like shit every time?”

“Well." Cedric paused. “I did ask it because of that, yes. I thought maybe you wouldn't want to say the codeword in front of the others, but you did not react any differently when I asked, so I just… left. It was all kinda awkward. You remember that?”

“Hell yeah, I do!” Harry said, shaking his head in amazement. “I thought you like… you thought I did it to steal your thunder and resented me for it or something.”

“What? No. I just…” Cedric shrugged. “I don’t know. You didn’t really reveal much the last time. I wasn't sure what to think.”

“Well, I stuck to the important stuff,” Harry reasoned. “There is a lot of time pressure during these visits, you know?”

“How much time pressure?”

“I'm not sure. It feels very short each time.”

“How short?” Cedric asked.

“I don’t know, I haven’t been paying that much attention,” Harry said, scrunching his nose as he thought back. “The beginning of Moody’s lesson. Until after I left the common room.”

“I see.”

“Felt even shorter the first time.”

“No, it was probably around the same. You were sick for quite a while and then the tart incident and the walk to the gate… it was pretty far.”

Harry nodded. “If you say so. More importantly, where are we at now? I saw the badges and I was calling Sirius to freak out about the dragons, so it must be before the first task, right?”

Cedric hung his head when Harry mentioned the badges, suddenly finding the hands folded in his lap more important than anything around him. “Sorry about the badges. I- wait , dragons?”

“The first task is dragons.”

“You can’t be telling me that! It’s unfair to the rest of the champions!” Cedric exclaimed.

“Trust me, everybody already knows about it by now. Except for you.” Harry said. “The younger me saw them in the Forbidden Forest earlier today. And so did Karkaroff and Maxine, so… you will officially find out in a bit too when the younger me finally gets to talk to you. You can tell him that you’re sorry about the badges then. I personally don’t care either way. I have one of them at home. It still works and everything. It’s a fun memorabilia.”

“Right… so dragons. Are you sure?”

“Remember to look very skeptical when the younger me tells you about them. Like you think I’m trying to trick you.”

Cedric scoffed. “I don't like this memory of me you’ve created in your head. The only reason I’d look at you weirdly was because I’d be wondering if it’s you or the normal you.”

“Normal me?” Harry drawled. 

Cedric sighed. “So... dragons, is it?”

“Yes. I will tell you that we will probably have to get past them or something, but the truth is-”

“No, shut up, I don’t want to know.”

Harry gave him a look. “Really?”

“Is this the task I will be dying in?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t want to know. I want to play fair.”

“That’s a nice sentiment, but that sentiment will get you burned. I am pretty sure that’s what will happen.”

“Well… that’s what will have to happen then.”

Harry scratched his head. “I can always restrain you and yell it into your ear or something”

“Then it will be your fault if I obliviate myself and end up like Lockhard.”

“Ouch.”

“Another one of those stories that’s too long to go over right now?”

“Probably, yeah.”

“We should probably go anyway,” Cedric said, getting up.

“You sure you don't wanna know more about the dragons?”

“I’m sure.”

“Alright.” Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and got up too. 

“Will you be alright? The younger you, I mean,” Cedric wondered as they approached the door. “Because I can help him out if needed.”

“He’ll be fine,” Harry said. “He’ll have plenty of help.”

“Right.”

They walked out and the wall closed off behind them.

“I’ll see you soon,” Harry said, throwing the invisibility cloak over his shoulders.

“Will you?”

“I will, one way or another,” he said, pulling the cloak over his head. “Good luck, Rick.” And with that he left in the direction of the Gryffindor common room, so that he could throw himself in the bed before the hook in his navel swept him away.

Chapter 4

This time when Harry came to, he was lying in his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, wearing what looked like his dress robes from the Yule ball. A chorus of multiple snores echoed all around him. He just lay there for a moment, listening in, waiting for the dizziness to pass, and then crawled out of the bed and changed to his comfy Weasley sweater with a Hungarian Horntail stretching sleepily at the front.

He walked down to the Entrance Hall. Ignoring the door to the Great Hall, he passed through the door and headed down to the Great Lake, where he sat in the snow, his magic enveloping him better than any coat could have.

His breath condensed in front of his mouth regardless, snatched away from his lips before it could linger too long, the cold kissing his lips, making them feel brittle in the chilly morning… and yet he continued to sit there, thinking as he watched the ice move over the surface of the lake.

Soft footsteps reached his ears after a while, approaching slowly from the direction of the castle. Harry turned around when they got close enough and spotted Cedric bundled up in a coat, his Hufflepuff scarf wound tightly around his neck, the beanie deep in his forehead. A movement far behind him caught Harry’s eyes next - it looked like Fleur and Victor returning to their respective dwellings.

Harry turned back to watch the ice sparkle under the morning sun.

“You’re up early,” Cedric muttered, sitting down next to him.

Harry extended his magic around him as well, the sudden warmth making Cedric pull off his beanie and loosen up his scarf. 

“So are you,” Harry pointed out.

Cedric shrugged, glancing at the two small silhouettes disappearing behind a tall heap of snow. “It’s all about international cooperation, isn’t it?”

“I’ve never seen you three talk together unless it was before the tasks or so.”

“We talk plenty,” Cedric said. “Gotta be careful about it though. All three of us together, that’s apparently a spectacle people love to line up for. It’s surprisingly annoying.”

“Welcome to the madness,” Harry drawled.

“Any tips on that?

“Glamours. Wards. Invisibility charms.”

Cedric snorted.

Harry lifted his head to see if he could spot the two figures at the base of the hill, but they must have already gone indoors. “Should have maybe nurtured that one more,” he noted. “Should have maybe nurtured a lot more of… everything. Within the House, between the Houses…”

“Yeah, you tend to stick to a few particular Gryffindors,” Cedric agreed.

Harry nodded, weirdly melancholic.

“I seem to have noticed that’s not the case when you’re… you ,” Cedric noted, looking around. “Did the Golden Trio break up?”

Harry shrugged. “People exchange friend groups every couple of years, study shows.”

“Study shows?”

“I have internet now,” Harry said hauntingly.

“Ah, is that a good thing?”

"Hmm, I wonder… but yeah, Ron and Hermione both have their own thing. Time-” Harry laughed and waved his hand. “Time just… gradually moved us in different directions.”

“Oh.”

“Turns out trauma bonding is not the best way to become friends.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“I don’t even care honestly. By the time I noticed it, it just felt natural to not hang out with them anymore…”

“Got some new friends?”

“A few,” Harry allowed.

“A family? Wife and kids?”

“A family of sorts, no wife, no kids, none of that. I thought me and Ginny might have that at one point, but that came and went too.”

“Oh, Ginny…?”

“Weasley. Ron’s younger sister.”

“Oh, that Chamber of Secr-”

“Yep, that’s the one.”

“Too much trauma bonding?”

“That too. But more like not the right bits.” Harry laughed.

“Oh.” Cedric paused. “Ohh, right.”

Harry laughed even harder. “Wow, true, nobody knows that one about me yet. I’m gay,” he said easily, watching Cedric fiddle with the tassels at the end of his now fully unwound scarf.

“That’s-”

“Yeah, a surprise, I know. It took me a while to straighten that one out,” Harry joked. “In my defense there hasn’t been much time or opportunity for that back at school.” He thought back to the years spent within the walls of Hogwarts, grimacing. “I was a disaster.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“I asked Cho to come with me to the Yule ball, did you know that?” Harry laughed. “Of all the people!”

Cedric looked at him in surprise. “You did? She didn’t mention that.”

“Well, she did refuse me, so not much to mention there, I guess,” Harry said. “Was very obviously besotted with you, don’t you worry.”

Cedric grimaced. “We’re just friends.”

It was Harry’s turn to stare now. “Just friends? Didn’t you guys go to Puddifoot’s and such?”

“Err… well, yes,” Cedric said, scratching the back of his head. “But that was more of a dramatization of our nonexistent romantic relationship than anything else.”

“Now I’m intrigued.”

“Like I said, people tend to flock around me rather aggressively these days and… Cho is an old friend, I- we sort of… Fleur suggested it might help if we make it look like I was already taken.”

“Oh-”

“Victor suggested I just glare at everybody and look unapproachable, but I am not very good at that, so…”

“Myea, can't imagine you doing that.”

Cedric sighed, leaning forward, a defeated slump to his shoulders. “Yeah, you guys are all used to fame and dealing with it, but… I mean I was well-liked before this whole tournament thing too, but it wasn’t… well, there was a reason why those people liked me, you know? It feels nice when there is a proper reason behind it, not just like… hello, you are a champion.”

“I’d argue being handsome is sort of a superficial reason too, but what do I know?”

“What? Err… thanks, but I meant like… I was nice to people, so of course they were nice back. Or so.”

“Wow, modest too. You truly are the perfect champion.”

“Am I?” Cedric wondered, looking over at him. “Was I?”

“Of course, the Goblet wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t.”

“Well, it chose you too, didn’t it?” Cedric wondered, bringing his knees up and looping his arms around them. “Maybe it just… decided that I wasn’t good enough to stand as a champion on my own.”

“What?” Harry guffawed. “That’s such bullshit… who told you that? I wasn’t even chosen per se, there was this whole thing going on. It was you, you were the most perfect choice all along. The true Hogwarts’ champion.”

“Didn’t feel like it when that dragon fried half of my face off,” Cedric muttered.

Harry eyed him. “How’s that doing by the way? Dragon fire is a bitch.”

“It sure is,” Cedric noted, pressing his fingers to his cheek. “I’ve been having a lot of physical therapy with Madame Pomfrey. She healed the superficial stuff pretty quickly, but the magic got in deep. It kinda messed up my facial expressions for a while. Still does a bit, see?” He forced in a wide smile, one corner of his mouth coming up higher than the other, making it quite lopsided.

“Still as handsome as ever,” Harry teased, leaning over to pat his shoulder.

Cedric shrugged, looking away, the movement pulling his injured side of the face out of view. “You did so much better in the first task.”

“Nah, I was a fucking mess,” Harry said.

“The broom was such a good idea though,” Cedric said, pressing his chin against his knees. “Me and Victor keep beating ourselves up about that one. Fleur too. She flies too, you know.”

“Yeah, she used to be a Seeker too,” Harry remembered.

Cedric looked over at him, lifting his eyebrows in question.

“She married Bill Weasley, I am practically a Weasley, it’s a whole thing,” he explained.

“I see.”

“I could have told you, you know, to use a broom. You didn’t want my help.”

Cedric laughed. “Imagine if we both used a broom, wouldn’t that be kind of suspicious?”

“Well, we could have coordinated it all, I’m sure,” Harry reasoned. “You’d keep the broom idea and I’d try Parseltongue. I’ll keep regretting not trying that one for the rest of my life. It could have been so much cooler.”

“Cooler,” Cedric repeated bemused. “Dragons speak Parseltongue?"

“Sort of,” Harry confirmed. “It’s more deep in.” He pressed his fingers against his Adam's apple. “But she would have understood. Imagine how cool that would have been. Now we’ll never know.”

Cedric just shook his head in exasperation.

Harry leaned back, squinting at him through the sun. “I am guessing you don’t want any pointers for the second task either?”

“Do I need them?”

“No, I guess you don’t,” Harry agreed. “What you do need is to learn how to give pointers to other people - take a bath, really?”

“I repaid the-”

“But take a bath ? You fucking wanker.” Harry grabbed a handful of snow and threw it Cedric's way.

Cedric reacted quickly, but it still hit his side. “Well, did it help you figure out the egg or not?” He tried to prove his point. 

“Oh it sure did. I really enjoyed bathing totally naked right in front of the Moaning Myrtle… at least it’s a funny story to tell now. My first time getting naked in front of somebody… and it’s a ghost of a first-year girl, that is actually like fifty? The trauma,” Harry snorted. 

“Now now.”

“Oh I’m sure she watched you too. She basically admitted it herself… you were apparently sitting in the water long enough for all the bubbles to disappear,” Harry drawled, pitching his voice to deliver the famous quote. 

“What the hell, I am never bathing there ever again,” Cedric exclaimed, pulling his coat tight around his body.

Harry laughed. 

“Not without wards at least,” Cedric added, joining in on the laughter with a short burst of his own. “I can help the younger you more if needed. I could teach him the-”

“Nah, he’ll be fine,'' Harry said, waving his hand.

Cedric gave him an exasperated look, but in the end must have decided to not comment on it. That gave Harry the perfect opportunity to change the topic: “How did you know it was me sitting here anyways?”

“I’m starting to recognize the signs,” Cedric said.

“The signs? How ominous."

“The younger you is rarely seen anywhere all alone like this.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Harry allowed and looked out over the sparkling icy surface of the Great Lake. “I needed a moment to- it’s been one hell of a ride and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. I really hope-" Harry pursed his lips, choosing silence instead of the end of that particular sentence.

“Did you figure out anything more since…?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Still hazy on how this came to happen?"

“Yeah, I can’t seem to get too deep into my memories, the inside of my mind is… pretty scrambled.”

Cedric just nodded, turning to stare out into the lake as well.

“I’m not sure what to do,” Harry decided to confess. “It looks like I might be able to prevent a lot of bad things from happening if it goes on like this.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Cedric wondered. “Won’t it change the future?”

“Is that a bad thing if it does change the future though, I wonder?”

“I don’t know.”

“And that’s the thing, neither do I,” Harry said. “I only know one future, the one I lived through and… while it probably wasn't the worst possible outcome, it very much wasn't the best either. If I just knew… but even if I did know, how can anybody expect me to not do anything when I know somebody will die?”

Cedric looked over at him. “What if one person dying now prevents a whole bunch of them dying later?” he asked slowly, holding the eye contact.

“And who is to decide which of those is more valuable?” Harry questioned. “Is it me? Because let me tell you right know I don’t give a flying fuck if the whole world burns as long as you- you all stay alive. I don’t think I can let any of you die even if it were for the greater good. That’s Dumbledore’s gist, not mine. I will… I would die myself before I would let that happen.”

Cedric seemed to be at a loss of words. He tore his eyes away, looking down at his fingers instead. “Sounds like an impossible choice to make.”

“It would be impossible, if I knew for sure the outcome would be bad,” Harry told him. “Since I don’t know what the outcome will be… I might as well…” He paused, the rest of the sentence coming out as a whisper. “How can it be a bad choice? Good people deserve to live.”

“Phew, I- I wish I could help you with this, but this is some next level stuff right there,” Cedric said in a hushed voice.

“You can help me.” Harry leaned over grabbing his shoulder.

Cedric turned to him. “How?”

“Don’t die.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “I’m doing my best not to.”

Harry nodded, letting it go. But deep down he knew that might not be enough. And that helped him decide on what to do next. “I will try to control these jumps. Next time it happens I’ll try to come out at a particular moment in your future.”

“Think you will be able to do that?”

“I will have to be.” Harry prodded at the navel, poking the Horntail in the eye. It jerked away and curled into a tight ball at the top of the sweater.

“That’s a cool sweater,” Cedric noted, the tone of his voice forcefully light. He reached over to touch the dragon’s back, caressing Harry’s chest. The dragon shot him an annoyed glare and ran off around Harry to hide at his back. Cedric leaned back to watch him for a few moments, to poke at the hide and then turned back to Harry.

“Hang in there,” he said earnestly.

“I’m trying to.”

Cedric nodded to that and then leaned back. “I think you should head back,” he said. “Unless you want the younger you end up sitting here with me.”

Harry nodded, getting up. “See you around, Rickie.”

“I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry took a few steps back and then- “Cedric, wait,” he said. “Let’s try one more thing. I have a theory I need confirmed sooner rather than later.”

“What do you need me to do?” Cedric asked, agreeing readily.

“Teach Fleur some spells against the Grindylows.”

“Okay, you got it.”

“Let’s see what that does,” Harry said and then left to be ripped out of the time and space in peace and quiet, somewhere far away from Cedric.

Chapter 5

Harry stumbled down the stairs of a spiraling staircase, the only thing saving him from implanting his face at its jagged edges was the walls on his sides he braced himself against. He sobbed out in pain, the navel in his stomach pulling him further down the timeline, but he forced it to comply, trying as hard as he could, lashing out with his magic, stabilizing the pull into a manageable dull ache.

He then took the next few moments to breathe through the dizziness, to wait for his mind to calm down a bit. After a few moments he looked around.

The spiraling staircase, the gargoyle at its bottom… when was this?

He looked down at his clothes, at the Gryffindor robes freshly pressed by the Hogwarts elves.

He wasn’t sure.

He had to be sure.

He snatched the bag hanging off his shoulder and started to rummage through it, searching for the Marauder’s Map, but it was nowhere to be found, which didn’t exactly help his rising panic.

Harry stumbled down the last few steps and hurried along the corridor. He brought up his wand, letting it lie in his palm. “Point me, Cedric Diggory,” he ordered.

The wand spun around wildly for a brief moment and then settled into position. Harry’s heart sank down to his shoes. What if the wand led him out of the castle, outside its grounds, far away to what would turn out to be Cedric’s family crypt?

It didn’t.

He ended up standing in front of professor Binns' classroom.

Harry tore the door open, startling the class full of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws barely holding on to their concentration as professor Binns' voice continued on the lecture unawares.

“Excuse me!” Harry almost yelled, frantically searching for-

Cedric was sitting in the third row, staring at him in surprise.

“Sir… I’m- they asked us to come up for some last minute stuff.”

Professor Binns finally noticed him, blinking owlishly his way. “The tournament,” Harry said, not letting his eyes slide from Cedric, who got up, threw his things into the bag and hurried down. They both stumbled out of the classroom, the door clicking closed behind them.

“What last-minute stuff?” Cedric asked. “I thought they already showed us how they messed up the Quidditch pitch, what else is there? Did they decide to set all the brooms on fire as well?”

Harry breathed out. “Before the third task then.”

“Oh,” Cedric paused, then nodded. “We need a codename for you too, this is getting a bit-”

“Not here,” Harry hissed, grabbing his hand to lead him… where ? He looked around, unsure. 

“The Room of Requirement again?” Cedric offered, feeling the urgency seeping from him. Harry could still feel the hook deep in his navel, pulling… it could overcome him at any moment, he needed to…

“This way,” he said, leading Cedric to the nearest wall. He looked around, making sure there were no prying eyes on them and sent out a prayer that Barty’s eyes were currently turned in a different direction. 

“Another one of your secret rooms?” Cedric teased, watching him press his hand against the stone surface.

“ Open up ,” Harry hissed, Parseltongue rolling from his lips easily even after Voldemort’s death.

Cedric stared as the stone moved apart for them, creating a thin dimly lit staircase, leading downwards.

“Don’t tell me-” he huffed as Harry pulled him inside. “Wasn’t the entrance-”

“That was the main entrance, technically,” Harry explained hurriedly. “These are-”

“These? There are more…?”

“Yes, as many as I want really.” Harry stopped. Cedric bumped into him from behind. They had not reached the end of the staircase yet. There wasn't really time for that. A small platform where they could stand on even ground would have to do. He turned to Cedric. 

“Awh, we’re not going in? I kind of wanted to-”

“Tell me about the second task.”

Cedric turned serious. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me how it went.”

“Don’t you already know?”

“I need to know if it really did change. I-” He pressed his hand against his forehead, concentrating. “Fleur, Fleur got caught by Grindylows, but also… she didn't, did she? Which one really happened? I can’t tell."

“We went in. You were first to the hostages. But you ended up waiting until all of us claimed our hostages and only then swam back up. You came up with Fleur.”

“So she actually reached Gabrielle this time?”

“Yes.”

Harry gripped his biceps. “You taught her the spells.”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded, turning to the side to think. “Okay, so I remember both now.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good if I can use it to change things on purpose.”

“But bad because…?”

“Bad because I am not sure I will be able to aim well enough to change them. Knowing it will happen won’t help if I am not there to stop it.”

“You didn’t aim for this one?”

Harry pressed his hand against his stomach, the cold metal of the hook pulling at him still. “Not exactly. I tried to aim for a different moment. This one is too late, too far away from what I was aiming for and by the looks of it, I should have gone even further than this, but-”

The hook tugged at him. Harry abandoned the sentence, turning to more urgent things. “Rick, listen to me.”

“I am.”

Harry took a deep breath in. “I don’t have time to perfect this shit, I don’t even know if I have time to tell you what you need to know right now or when exactly will I be back, so you need to listen to me, alright? No more bullshit. No more you having choices and shit, you understand?”

“It’s the third task, isn’t it?” Cedric asked.

Harry nodded. “It’s the cup. You mustn't touch it, you hear me? You can’t.”

“What?”

“The cup is a portkey that will teleport you directly to Riddle. Don’t you dare to touch that fucker with a ten foot pole, you understand?

“Harry…”

“Do you understand?”

“I don’t, actually. Why is the cup a portkey all of a sudden?”

“There is a ritual Riddle needs to complete to get his body back. He’s just a soul tethered to this world via-” he stopped himself. “The important part is that I’ve been forced into this tournament for one and only reason only - to get me to touch that portkey.”

“What… if they want you to touch a portkey, why don’t they just make one and force you to touch it, why put your name in-”

“Because only Dumbledore can make portkeys within Hogwarts, anything else wouldn’t work. And he made this one. It was supposed to teleport the winner from the middle of the maze to the audience to speed the whole thing up or… maybe for some sort of dramatic effect? I don’t know really why, I’ve never really asked him. The point is… Crouch will tweak it-”

“Crouch?”

“Yes, Barty Crouch Jr, the Death Eater currently disguised as Moody.”

“That… does actually make sense, sort of.”

Harry gripped his shoulders, shaking him slightly. “Promise me you won't touch that cup.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “Tell me what happened in the original timeline. In the one you remember.”

“Why? Rickie, there is no time for-”

“Tell me.”

Harry let go of him. “We got to it at the same time. You said I deserve it more. You wanted me to grab it and win the tournament, but I persuaded you to grab it with me. We grabbed it at the same time…” He shivered, the coldness of the Chamber below seeping deep into his bones.

“And it took us both to Voldermort?” Cedric prodded.

Harry nodded silently.

“Is that how I die?” Cedric whispered. “Voldemort tried to kill us both and what… do I… do I try to protect you?”

Harry couldn’t even look at him. “No. You just… we arrive and they kill you instantly. There is no… well…”

“Well?”  Cedric urged, reaching out to run his hand up and down Harry’s arm as if to warm him up. It didn’t help calm the shivers running through his body though.

“I- your… echo actually did help to get me out of there if I’m being totally honest, but that-”

“Echo? Explain,” Cedric demanded, squeezing his biceps.

“Riddle wanted to duel me, but I was shit at it. Would have been long dead if he didn’t want to make such a show out of it for his Death Eaters. There were so many of them. Why would anybody-”

“So you fought him?”

“I tried and failed miserably, but… our wands have the same core, a feather from the same phoenix, so our wands connected, shit hit the fan, I… I’m not sure what actually happened, but Riddle’s wand started to spit out these… echoes of previous spells.”

“Priori incantatem?”

“Yeah.”

“And since he…”

“Ah, since I was one of the last spells…”

“Yes, first the few he cast at me, then you, then Pettigrew's hand, then the old muggle, the ministry lady and… my mom, my dad…”

“Oh.”

“They told me- err, you guys could all talk for some reason. You looked like actual ghosts, I don’t think you were though, so…”

“Echoes.”

“You caused chaos and helped me escape.”

“So Voldermort didn’t… won’t get his body back?”

“He did. I tried to stop it, but when they killed you, I-" Harry sighed. “They planned this whole thing to get me to them, to use me for the ritual. The Goblet? That was them. The broom idea in the first task? Not mine, not really. The gillyweed? They helped me get that as well. I wouldn’t have even known there was a plant like that. And the maze? My path was cleared out so that I could get to the middle the fastest. Fleur and Victor were attacked. You were attacked too, but we stumbled upon each other and I think they didn’t want to interfere with that, so…”

Cedric dropped the hand from his biceps. “So you were meant to win this whole time? It didn’t matter- it doesn't matter how good we are, how hard we try?”

“I’m sorry,” Harry confirmed. “But that’s just it, don’t you see? There is no point in winning this, no point in touching that blasted cup, whoever touches it-”

“ You will touch it.”

“That’s fine, I will-”

“Fine? You said they will use you for some dark ritual and try to kill you right after.”

“Yes, but I will be fine. I will escape.”

“You will escape thanks to the echoes.”

“Ye-”

“Will you be able to escape if there is one echo missing?”

“What are you-”

“My echo-”

“There’s no way that's gonna-”

“Are you sure though?”

“Cedric, no, that’s like the dumbest-”

“You don’t know if it is though, do you ?”

Harry froze at the implication. “You can't grab that cup.”

“So what? I should just let you go in by yourself? Is that it?” Cedric threw his hands in the air. “You’re fifteen for Merlin’s sake.”

“I’ve faced worse at eleven. All alone I might add.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be left alone this time as well.”

“I will be left alone either way. They will kill you before you can even-”

“Maybe they won’t. Now that I know what’s going to happe-”

“No.”

“Maybe if I-”

“No. No .”

“I could-”

“No!”

“Harry.”

“NO!” Harry yelled, magic leaking out of him in a mild blast. The stones around them started to creak unpleasantly. “You touch that cup and you’re dead, are you not listening to me?”

“Maybe not this time,” Cedric reasoned.

“You can’t…”

“I can’t just let you do this alone. You need all the help you can get.”

“You want to help me?” Harry challenged. “Then don't touch that fucking cup. Stay alive instead and help me keep everybody else alive. I can’t let this happen, not again, not to you, not to Sirius, not to… to nobody else. If I have to live through this whole shit a second time then… I must try to- it can’t happen again, you hear me? It can’t, I won’t come back this time if it will, it’s too much.”

Cedric watched him. “But what if me dying- what if that’s what keeps you alive in the end? What if without that…”

“You dying doesn’t do shit, it just makes you fucking dead!”

“You said my echo-”

“Fuck that.”

“You said it helped to save you,” Cedric insisted. “Will you be able to escape without it there?”

“What difference does it make? There could be a different echo that comes out after that if that’s your concern. I am sure Riddle killed enough people to fill that whole cemetery with echoes.”

“But how long until another echo comes up to complete the count? What if it’s just Cruciatus or Imperius for a tad too long and the echoes disappear before there is enough of them to help you? What if that’s what makes your escape impossible? What if you die?”

“I won’t.”

“But you don’t know!” Cedric argued. “Are you willing to take that risk? To risk your own life just so I can stay alive? What-”

Harry looked him right into the eye. “There is a bigger chance of me surviving this. I have survived this before. I will survive it again.”

“And if you don’t?”

Harry shrugged. 

“Don’t say that, you hypocrite,” Cedric hissed, grabbing his robes. “Your life for mine? What kind of a messed up trade is that?”

The stones around them settled as Harry stared at him impassively. “I let him kill me before, you know."

“What..?” Cedric let go of him, shocked.

“He was attacking Hogwarts. It was a bloodbath. He killed so many- we didn’t stand a chance against his forces. I was relieved when he gave me the option to just come to him and- I was relieved nobody else had to die.”

“But you didn’t die, did you? How else would you be here?”

“I did. For a bit." Harry waved his hand. "The point is I would die. I would die to save you. Any of you.”

Cedric took a step back, shaking his head. 

“Just don't touch that cup," Harry said. “Promise me you won’t touch it, Rickie.”

Cedric backed up two more stairs.

“Don’t-” Harry didn’t get to finish the sentence. The hook in his navel jerked him forward so wildly it swept him off his feet, pulling him out of the staircase before he could do or say anything more.

Chapter 6

Harry appeared in the middle of the pitch, the audience staring at him in hushed silence. He stared back, horrified.

No.

The cup fell from his bloodied hand, rolling away.

No.

His knees buckled underneath him. He fell to the ground, clawing at the grass, clawing around him, looking for Cedric. Looking for his body. 

Both of us , echoed in Harry’s mind and he choked out a sob. There were other voices too, voices rising urgently around him, but he didn’t hear them, couldn’t hear them. All that he heard was:

What?

We’ll take it at the same time.

You- you sure?

Let’s just take it together.

On three.

One.

Two.

Three.

Hands were grasping at him. Harry pulled away, retching from the dizziness, crawling away. He could only hear the one sentence, playing on an endless loop: Kill the spare, kill the spare, kill the- the-

“Harry!” somebody grabbed his cheeks, turning his head up. He blinked- blinked and saw Cedric’s face. His-

“It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Rickie…” Harry stared, bewildered. 

“Oh yes, yes!” Cedric exclaimed, enveloping him in a hug. “We need a fucking codename for you too, you stupid moron, oh Merlin, I thought…"

“You’re alive?” Harry asked, making sure. He had to make sure even though he could feel the warmth of the body in his arms, even though he could now remember both - Cedric grabbing and not grabbing the cup with him. He said he would grab it. He said it, but in the end he didn’t. He didn’t . “You’re alive,” Harry said in amazement, gripping Cedric’s dirty shirt. “You’re alive.”

“So are you,” Cedric said, pulling back. “ So are you ,” he repeated, staring at him.

Then there was a hand on his shoulder. Dumbledore turned him his way. Harry went along, but did not let go of Cedric’s shirt, grasping at it tightly as he moved. He couldn’t shake the feeling that if he’d let go, Cedric would spiral back in time and end up dead. He couldn’t let go. Not yet.

“What happened, Harry?”

“Voldermort’s back,” he said simply.

“What’s going on?” Cornelius Fudge’s face appeared at Dumbledore’s shoulder, looking concerned.

“Voldemort’s back,” Harry repeated louder this time. 

A chorus of confused voices rose all around them, but Dumbledore paid them no heed. He grasped at Harry, hoisting him up. Cedric got up too, pulled up by the shirt Harry was still holding. 

“Take him to the Hospital Wing. Quickly,” Fudge said, urging them all to move off the grass. “He must have gotten a concussion, the poor thing.”

“I didn't get a concussion, I really didn’t,” Harry argued, but he felt as if he did. That much was true. The voices all around him were bleeding into one another, their silhouettes splitting into multiple shadows.

“Hospital Wing, my boy, then we can talk,” Dumbledore agreed. “Perhaps-”

“What is the boy saying, Albus? What is this? Did you-”

“The Hospital Wing if you please, Mr. Diggory.”

“No, I’ll take him, Albus.” joined in a new voice. 

“Albus, what?”

“Just a moment Cornelius, why don’t we all-” Dumbledore turned around to calm down Fudge and that was when Moody appeared on Harry’s side, grabbing him by his bleeding forearm. Harry jerked back, the pain clearing his muddled mind. 

“Come, boy, come on,” Moody urged.

Cedric stepped in between them. “Sir, I don’t think-”

“Mr. Diggory, you may-”

“Sir, I don’t-”

“I assure you Harry is in good hands with-”

Cedric pulled out his wand so quickly, Harry didn’t even notice it until it was turned at Moody, his voice stern. “Step away, now .”

“What? What is-” Fudge appeared next to them, confused.

Dumbledore was right behind him.

“Albus, I think-” Moody said, making a second attempt to grab at Harry, but Cedric was faster. He pulled him out of reach.

Harry turned to Dumbledore. “Voldermort said there is a spy among us,” he said, pointing at Moody.

Fudge spluttered. “Surely you don’t mean the Alastor Moody! Albus, this boy has lost his mind! I am not sure what kind of-”

“Harry, Alastor has been a friend of mine for over a-”

“Check what’s in that flask of his,” Harry said, pointing. “Check.”

Fudge snorted. “Now now, Harry-”

Dumbledore stepped around Fudge, waving his hand in Moody’s direction. “ Accio flask,” he said in a clear voice. Moody growled as the flask ripped free from his coat, sailing above their heads right into Dumbledore’s hand.

Dumbledore did not even get to open it before Moody fired off a spell, the green light of the Killing curse flying right at where Harry was standing behind Cedric. Harry lifted his hand over Cedric’s shoulder, a silent cry on his lips-

Dumbledore was quicker though. He shouted a spell. The discarded cup jumped in the path of the curse before it could reach them, blocking it. The curse got absorbed into it, the cup gurgling angrily as it fell into the grass.

Dumbledore waved the Elder wand again then. “ Herbivicus maxima,” he muttered. The grass around Moody sprang up, growing in mass. It wound itself around him, pressing his arms against his body, covering his mouth and eyes. Within seconds he turned into a green mummy, his wand on the grass.

Dumbledore opened the flask then, taking a short sniff. “Severus, if you please,” he said, handing it over to Snape who sniffed at it as well. “That is indeed Polyjuice,” he confirmed.

“Nonsense!” Fudge cried, reaching for the flask. “Don’t indulge the boy’s delusions. What-”

Dumbledore ignored him, turning to the crowd of teachers on the right side.

“Minerva,” he called, “please take care of the students.”

“What about Potter?” she asked, as she waved her hand towards the prefects. They started hoarding people off the stands. “He’s injured. You said-”

“The new circumstances won't allow it. He will stay, Minerva, because he needs to understand,” Dumbledore said curtly. “Understanding is the first step to acceptance and only with acceptance can there be recovery. He needs to know who has put him through the ordeal-”

“With all due respect, professor,” Harry called out. “If what I heard is correct, then that man there is Barty Crouch-”

“What are you-”

“- junior.”

“That’s preposterous!” Fudge cried.

“Cornelius, please.” Dumbledore said, raising a placating hand.

Harry used the silence that followed to finish his explanation. “His father smuggled him out of Azkaban, I bet he will tell you the whole thing once you feed him Veritaserum. The important thing is that the real Moody is hidden in his trunk back at the office.”

“He would have to keep him near for the Polyjuice Potion,” Snape agreed.

“Let’s… Cornelius, call your Aurors, it appears we have caught a Death Eater.”

“Albus, must we really…?”

“Yes, Cornelius, I’m afraid we must.”

Dumbledore then turned to the teachers again. “Pomona, could you please bring the elf named Winky from the kitchens. I have a feeling she will be essential to the case.”

“Yes, sir.” Sprout nodded and hurried back to the castle.

“Albus, I must insist that Potter be taken to the Hospital Wing right away,” McGonagall said, the stands almost empty now. “You may talk to him after he is taken care of. He’s bleeding all over the grass. Just look at him.”

“Minerva, I applaud your-”

“I’ll take him, professor,” Cedric spoke up. “There’s not much for us to do here really, is there?”

“Mr. Diggory, why don’t you -”

Cedric pulled at Harry, a stubborn glare turned at Dumbledore. The man watched them for a couple of moments and then sighed. “As you wish, Mr. Diggory. You need to be taken care of as well after all,” he said, motioning to the blood mating his hair.

Harry zeroed in at it right away. “What happened to you?” he exclaimed, although the answer was hiding somewhere within the memories flooding his brain. 

“Oh, err… “ Cedric raised his hand, pressing it against the side of his head. It came back bloody. “I’m not entirely sure. Might have hit it when Victor fired the Crutiatus at me.”

“Let’s go,” Harry urged, pushing at Cedric’s body to force him to move. “Sir, I’ll see you at the Hospital Wing.”

“Very well, Harry."

“Now you stop right there, Mr. Potter!” Fudge cried, a few of his Aurors already at his side. “We can’t let you leave sprouting all that nonsense a- about… Shacklebolt, take him!”

“I beg your pardon?” McGonagall spoke up, stepping between them and Harry. “What do you mean take him ? Take him where ? You’re not taking my student anywhere!”

“Professor McGonagall, step out of the way, please,” Fudge ordered, waving the Aurors forth. “The boy must be questioned.”

“You may question him once he has been seen to,” she said sternly. 

“Professor McGonagall-”

“Minerva-”

“After he’s been seen to,” she barked, shaking her head. “I will bring the boys up to the Hospital Wing. You may visit them after you’ve dealt with the rest.” She waved her hand at the motionless body of Moody/Crouch, then bid them all a good night and marched Harry and Cedric up the hill, her head held high. 

-

 

Cedric and Harry did not really speak as they walked up to the Hospital Wing. Neither did McGonagall, but she did speak to the students lingering in the corridors who were ogling them as they passed by.

“Back to your common room, girls, before I start taking points!” she threatened as they walked by Cho and some of her friends.

“I’m fine,” Cedric called her way, waving at her to leave. She did so, albeit reluctantly.

“Still just friends?” Harry teased, pushing some of his magic over the wound in his arm so he wouldn’t bleed all over the castle.

Cedric must have felt the shift in the air, because he glanced down at his arm, grimacing. “Do you want me to try and heal it?”

“Nah, you won’t be able to I think, it was like a-” He glanced at McGonagall’s back. “A very weird knife.”

“Well, we better hurry then, Mr. Potter,” she proclaimed, confirming that she could indeed hear them. “Back to your dormitory, boys!” she ordered a group of Hufflepuffs standing near the stairs. Harry remembered one of them from Cedric’s room earlier that year.

“You okay there, Ced?” he called out.

“I’m fine, Mic,” Cedric shouted back.

“You better not be lying!” Mic yelled back before running away from McGonagall's stern look.

There was an even bigger ruckus in front of the Hospital Wing, where they spotted a big group of Gryffindors demanding entrance with none other than Ron and Hermione at the helm of it all. Right at their side was Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Diggory respectively, currently both arguing with Madame Pomfrey. Bill was there too, but he just stood next to his mother, looking slightly forlorn. 

“Poppy,” McGonagall called out, bringing the attention of the whole group to them. “I got two more for you.”

Madame Pomfrey looked up, relieved. “Boys, finally, come on in!”

Harry could sense that Mrs. Weasley was close to jumping him, but before she could do so McGonagall started to loudly order everybody around.

“Let them through!” she would call.

“They need immediate care,” she'd insist.

“You may wait here, we will let you in once Mr. Potter and Mr. Diggory have been taken care of,” she would reason.

“The rest of you back to your common room this instant!” she would shout.

“That includes you too, Mr. Creevey. Don’t make me take off points,” she'd threaten as they were ushered inside. 

Madame Pomfrey redressed them with a quick swoosh of her wand and sat them down on two of the beds in the corner of the Hospital Wing. She then casted a quick Geminus Charm to create an identical copy of herself. A barrage of diagnostic spells, healing magic and colorful potion vials later, they were tucked into the beds with a Chocolate Frog in each of their laps.

“You’ll need all the rest you can get,” the two Pomfreys muttered in unison. “I swear, the mental strain this tournament keeps causing on the students, I’ll never stop issuing official complains to-”

Her complaint was cut off as she merged into the one true Pomfrey again. 

“You especially, Mr. Potter, I will not let you out until your mind calms down,” she threatened. “You really need to rest properly. No more-”

“How’s Fleur and Victor?” Cedric asked, interrupting her tirade.

Madame Pomfrey straightened up, smoothing down her robes. “Ms. Delacour has been treated and should be fully recovered by morning,” she said, nodding in satisfaction. “She chose to retire back to the Beauxbatons’ carriage with her family.”

Cedric opened his mouth-

“Mr. Krum,” Pomfrey continued, giving him a side eye as she gestured at the warded off area on the other side of the Hospital Wing, “is still unconscious I fear, but I’m sure he’ll recover fairly quickly.” 

“You stunned him,” Cedric explained to Harry.

“Sorry.”

“Not to worry, boys,” Pomfrey soothed. “I-”

A flash of light from the direction of the door pulled their attention away from the ongoing conversation. Harry startled, pulling a shield over him and Cedric, the Chocolate Frog rolling away from his lap down to the floor as he did so.

It was just Dumbledore’s Patronus though. The phoenix opened its mouth relaying the message without any prompting: “Poppy, please come down to Alastor’s office immediately.”

“Oh Merlin.” Madame Pomfrey summoned her bag. “Mippy!” she called and a small elf appeared, wearing a Hogwarts' uniform with a neatly stitched infirmary sign on the back. “Take me to Alastor Moody’s office, my dear,” she instructed, reaching for the elf’s tiny hand. “Then please return back to the Hospital Wing and keep an eye on the patients while I am away. No visitors until I return, alright?”

Mippy nodded solemnly, apparating them both away.

“Neat,” Cedric mused, running his fingers over the shield around him.

Harry sighed, pulling the shield back as he sank down against the headboard. It was an uncomfortable metal construction that dug into his spine, but he was too tired to move off it.

“So what now?” Cedric asked, bringing out his wand to levitate the Chocolate Frog from the floor back into Harry’s hands.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Harry confessed. “But I guess things will play out very similarly to how they did the first time around.”

“Which is?”

Harry studied the intricate design on the Chocolate Frog, smoothing out its mangled corners as he tried to remember all the details. He was tired though, so tired…

“They have probably heard Crouch's story by now. Must have found the real Moody locked up in the trunk since they called Poppy.”

“Right.”

“Which means Dumbledore will be back any minute and demand I recount the events of the past evening in excruciating detail.”

“Will you even be able to remember what really happened this time around?”

“I guess if I had to, I could-” Harry shook his head, leaning back. The back of his head bumped into a piece of the cold metal railing. “I am kinda hoping I will be off by then.”

“You probably will be,” Cedric agreed. “It’s about time.”

Harry nodded, staring at the ceiling. His body slid lower, it buried deeper into the comfy bed.

“There will be a dog with Dumbledore. Don’t startle.”

“A dog?”

“Sirius is an Animagus. He sneaks around in dog’s form. Ah, I wish I’d stay around long enough to pet him at least…”

“Oh, your godfather?”

“Yeah…”

“The Aurors will probably want to hear about the whole thing too, won’t they?” Cedric asked. “This is a pretty huge deal, Voldemort returning…”

Harry snorted, turning to face Cedric. “Nah… that one will be swept under the rug, I’m afraid.”

“What do you mean?” Cedric stared over at him in disbelief. “That’s-”

Harry sighed, closing his eyes for a bit. “Oh, they’ll question me alright, but they won’t believe a thing. Fudge will call me a liar, say I was concussed and had some very vivid dreams or some shit like that. They will force the papers to say the same thing, say you dying was just a tragic accident and- oh. ” He opened his eyes. 

Cedric smiled at him. “Well, I’m not dead this time around, am I? I will back you up.”

“That’s very nice of you and well… you are welcome to try, but I doubt it will change anything. You weren’t there, were you?” Harry noted, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

“Why don’t you give them the memory, then? That ought to convince them.”

“Yeah, I was actually wondering why we didn’t do that in the original timeline.”

“I guess because it’s illegal to take memories from minors.”

“Still… in a case like this, wouldn’t a petty rule like that be overruled?”

Cedric shrugged. “I don’t know. I can try to-”

“Maybe better leave it,” Harry decided. “Especially with me around. I am unsure what residue is left in the mind after I leave. I’d rather nobody else knew about this. Not yet at least. Maybe not ever.”

“Right.” Cedric nodded. “Let’s leave it then.” He fiddled with his own blanket for what felt like a very long pause.

“I’m glad you weren’t there by the way,” Harry said. “So, so glad. When I jumped the last time, I thought- I wasn’t sure if-” He reached over with his hand.

Cedric sighed, settled down on his side and reached out his own hand to hook their forefingers together. “I considered it,” he confessed. “But, I guess in the end I- I am nothing more than a coward.” His smile was still a tad crooked, still a bit too stiff on one side.

“Not a coward,” Harry said.

“Well…”

“You’re not a coward, Rickie,” Harry repeated. “It was a very brave thing to do.“

Cedric sighed, watching him. “I’m starting to think we approached the whole codename thing from a totally wrong side.”

Harry welcomed the change of topic gladly. “How so?”

“I am always me, it's you who keeps changing back and forth. You should have had one, not me.”

“I can just start calling you Cedric again if you prefer.”

“No, I am fine with Rickie. It’s... nice, nostalgic. But we should really come up with one for you as well. It’s kinda weird to keep calling you Harry when you’re you .”

“Sure.”

“Hmm, your middle name then?”

“James?” Harry said, grimacing instantly. “I don’t wanna be called that. It was my dad’s first name. It would feel weird. I’m not my dad… it's a whole thing.”

“Hmm,” Cedrick mused, looking up at the ceiling. “Harry… Reeree…Har- Aitch? Haz, Har-”

“Haz sounds fine.”

“Haz it is then.” Cedric smiled, pulling at their connected fingers. “Short for hazard .”

Harry laughed. “What a perfect fit.”

“I know, right?” Cedric laughed with him. His laughter died off way too quickly though. Harry would have liked to-

“So… anything we need to look out for while you’re away?” Cedric wondered. “You might be gone soon. I am guessing I won’t see you until after the summer, will I? Neither you, nor Harry.”

“I am not sure,” Harry said. “I will be stuck at my Muggle family until the Dementor attack.”

Cedric’s hold on him tightened. “Until what now?”

“I’ll be fine, I have a very strong Patronus Charm.”

“You or Harry? Because if-”

“We both do,” Harry smirked. “Had to have it after the third year.”

“Still, a Dementor attack?”

“It will be okay, don’t worry.”

“But…”

“Speaking of Dementors, you still owe me a rematch.”

“Ah, yeah… I do, don’t I?”

“We can have a rematch next year, I think…? Or any other really. Since you’re alive this time around and all that.”

Cedric smiled. “Yeah, we can. So… no summer visits, then?”

“Umm, if everything ends up the same, I should be relocated to this secret hideout at some point, but… I am unsure how to get you there. It's a secret-”

“Ah, that resistance against dark forces you might or might not be a part of?” Cedric guessed.

“In my defense, I am not part of it now, neither is Harry yet, so really…”

“Right, right .” Cedric turned to his back, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. Harry squeezed his hand. Cedric gave him a squeeze back.

And that’s how Harry slipped into a much needed sleep, with his hand in Cedric’s, which was at some point exchanged for fluffy fur of a black dog, snuggling up close to him. Harry petted him happily and went back to sleep.

Chapter 7

One moment Harry was sleeping peacefully curled up in a bed in the Hospital Wing, the next he was wrenched forward in time, which… was something he had expected to happen really. What he didn’t expect though was to be whacked in the head the moment he landed in his younger body. It didn’t punch the dizziness out of him, surprisingly enough, it only made it worse.

“Fuck!” he gasped, grabbing the side of his head as he stumbled back. The uneven pavement made him fall down on his ass. The wand he had been holding flew out of his hand, rolling somewhere to the back of the alley.

An alley.

It was then when he finally registered the frost around, the muted flickering lights, the sick feeling of despair crawling up his throat to choke him. He blinked, trying to get rid of the black and white dots fighting for dominance right in front of his eyes. It didn’t help much. 

There were frantic sounds of sneakers slapping against concrete somewhere ahead of him, labored breaths mixed with wild sobs. Harry rolled to all four, leaning against the brick wall on one side of the alley, trying to get up, but the floor felt tilted, he was unable to-

“Fucking hell!” he swore, gripping the wall. If he pushed himself any further he might start throwing up, but if he didn’t-

He squinted ahead. Through the flickering lights above them, he saw Dudley press himself up against the same wall, a dark tall shadow gliding up closer and closer-

Harry clenched his jaw. It was fine. He did this once before. He could do it again. He didn’t even need his fucking wand this time around. He just had to concentrate and reach in deep enough. His magic would respond just as it always did.

Come on.

And then the flickering light hanging on above him stuttered out and doused the world around him in darkness. Chill crept up his spine, nails scratching up his skin…

He froze.

He forgot about the second one.

Come on!

He was too afraid to look up, too panicked to get his magic under control. The shadows grew deeper, the claws on the back of his neck more real - the Dementor was touching him, squeezing the back of his head, turning his head to-

And Harry couldn’t-

He couldn’t even-

He was forced to look up into the deep darkness, its depth devouring each and every dot in his sight, reaching in through his eyes to grab his-

“Expecto Patronum!” yelled out a voice from the mouth of the alley. A bird’s gentle song filled Harry’s ears. A glittering sparrow flew between him and the Dementor, stretching out its small wings threateningly. The Dementor shrieked, tearing its hand away - the hand that the sparrow touched with the tips of his wings was smoking.

Harry slumped back and then there was a hand grasping his biceps to help him stay upright. He looked up.

“Rickie,” he sighed, relieved. 

Cedric smiled. “Haz!” He waved his wand. The sparrow glided further down the alley to attack the second Dementor as well. It shrieked, stumbling back from Dudley, smoke coming out from behind its hood where the sparrow clawed at its face. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Cedric said, directing the sparrow to chase after the fleeing Dementors. “It wasn’t technically my shift, but Mundungus is a slacker, so me and Mrs. Figg decided to- never mind. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Harry muttered, leaning into Cedric. “But I think I got a concussion or something. Could you… work some magic on it?”

Cedric turned his wand on him-

“Wait, no- actually, you shouldn’t be-” Harry blinked, confused. 

“It’s fine, I’m of age, remember?”

“Dudley is a muggle,” Harry reasoned.

Cedric shook his head. “Your cousin is not part of the statute of secrecy, you share a household,” he grabbed Harry’s face, running the tip of his wand over the side of his head in a spiraling motion. The dizziness started to ease, the pain lessening…

“So you say, but the Ministry-”

“What are they gonna do? Call up the whole Wizengamot for a bit of magic in a dark alley?”

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered.

“I'll just pay the fine then,” Cedric said, pulling his wand away in a snapping motion. “Better?”

Harry blinked. “Yeah. Impressive.”

“Can’t be a good Quidditch team captain without knowing the basics of first aid, can I?” He pressed his hand against the side of Harry’s head for a moment as if checking for… for what?

Harry blinked up at him. “Err, you shouldn’t have, you know,” he said. “I would have been fine.”

“I couldn’t just leave you in this all alone again.”

“But that-”

“Let’s check on your cousin,” Cedric said quickly, offering him his wand back. He then walked off to the other end of the alley. 

Dudley was lying on the ground, curled up in a trembling ball, his eyes squeezed closed.

“Hey,” Cedric called out. He squatted down next to Dudley, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder to shake him. “Hello? You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I chased them away.”

Dudley didn’t react, he just kept shivering, beads of sweat and tears sliding down his face. He looked so young…

“Just a sec.” Cedric leaned away, casting a couple of spells - warmth returned to the alley, a cheerful though artificial feeling filling up Harry’s heart, Dudley stopped shivering, sighing gently as Cedric continued to cast. Before Harry knew it, there was a piece of chocolate pushed into his hand.

“You came prepared, I see,” Harry commented, munching on it.

“You said there would be a Dementor attack,” Cedric said, shrugging as if it was nothing. “I couldn’t just-”

“I said I’d be fine.”

It was then Dudley finally opened his eyes. He stared up at them in confusion. “W-what…?” he croaked.

“It’s alright,” Cedric soothed, offering him a piece of chocolate.

Dudley screwed up his face, ignoring Cedric in favor of Harry. “You!” he yelled, pushing himself up. “What the fuck was that? You… you magicked me!”

“You decked me in the head,” Harry answered, too lazy to argue with his cousin. “Think we’re even.”

“I’m going to tell my dad and he’s-!” Dudley threatened, stumbling  back as he stood up. Cedric reached over to help him, but Dudley slapped his hand away. “And y- you, who are you?” He checked Cedric’s hand immediately as if expecting to see a wand, but the only thing he found was a huge piece of chocolate. “Umm-”

“Do you like magical sweets?” Cedric offered.

Dudley squinted, eying the chocolate suspiciously. “Magical sweets?”

“Oh yeah.”

“You a freak like him?”

“A freak with magical sweets,” Cedric said, lifting his forefinger to ask Dudley to wait. He then brought out a small pouch from his back pocket and opened it. “Have you ever had any?”

“ Magical sweets?” Dudley scoffed. “Bet they suck.”

“Only one way to find out,” Cedric said, rummaging in the pouch. His hand disappeared inside it as if it was at least 30 centimeters deep. “Hmm.” He eyed Dudley. “You look like a chocolate guy.”

“Chocolate’s fine,” Dudley allowed.

“This one is a classic,” Cedric announced, pulling out a chocolate frog.

Dudley reached over eagerly, snatching it from his hands.

“Just be careful, there is a spell on the frog, which makes it move. Many wizards just open the box carelessly and it jumps out and runs away.”

Dudley snorted. “As if that’s gonna happen to me.” He opened the box. The frog did indeed try to jump out, but he grabbed it before it could and brought it up to his face to study it. “This better not be a fucking prank.”

“I would never joke about chocolate,” Cedric said earnestly.

Dudley bit off the head of the frog, nodding in appreciation. “It’s fine I guess,” he allowed after he devoured the whole thing. “What else you got?”

He stepped in closer, peering into the pouch as Cedric described all of the sweets inside and the little bits of magic they carried. Dudley’s eyes grew wide at the mention of liquorice wands that would grow a centimeter after each wave, the fudge flies that would fly right into your mouth when you threw them in the air, the exploding bonbons that would crackle and pop open in your mouth flooding it with an array of flavors as you rolled your tongue around or the Fizzing Whizbees that would let you float around while you sucked on them.

“You know what?” Cedric mused. “Why don’t you just take the whole pouch?”

Dudley’s hand jerked to take it, but then stopped mid-air. “What’s the catch?”

Cedric shrugged. “Just don’t tell your parents about this whole thing.”

“I can just take this and tell them about it anyways,” Dudley said, snorting. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Cedric nodded. “Well, then you’d have to explain why you own a magical bag full of magical sweets. I don’t think they would let you keep it, would they?”

Dudley’s face scrunched up. He eyed the pouch in contemplation.

“Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” Dudley said, snatching it out of Cedric’s hand. He gave both of them a glare and then started walking in the direction of the Privet Drive.

 

-

 

“We should probably get a move on too,” Cedric said, looking around suspiciously. “Are they coming back?” His wand was suddenly back in his hand. 

“I’m not sure,” Harry said. “I didn’t stick around this long last time.”

Cedric hummed, scanning the back of the alley where the Dementors disappeared to. “I wonder where it would be better for Harry to come back to. It might be too confusing if we move.”

“Harry will think Dudley decked the hell out of him,” Harry reasoned. “We got this one covered pretty well. You can just say you came to the rescue and explain that the Order will be back for me in three days.”

Cedric gave him a funny look. “Three days? They left you here for three more days after this?”

Harry shrugged. “I was fine.”

“I’m kinda sick of hearing that one,” Cedric decided, waving his wand to call back his Patronus. The sparrow fluttered down, landing in his hand. “Find: Sirius Black. Tell-”

There was a brief flash of excitement in Harry’s mind, but it was quickly exchanged for logic. “Wait,” he hissed, grabbing Cedric’s wrist to banish his Patronus. “I can’t go to the… twelfth .” His voice dipped very low. “Not like this.”

“And why not?” Cedric wondered, his hand jerking as if to call back the sparrow. “We won’t even need the keeper to bring you in since you obviously already know about it.”

“That’s exactly the issue here,” Harry reasoned. “I know about it, but Harry doesn’t. What happens when he comes back to within the Fidelius charm?”

Cedric’s hand stilled. “It kicks him out?”

“The twelfth literally stop existing for him, but the charm will not move him out, so he'll end up right between number 11 and 13, which…”

“Right, that- right .”

Harry ran his hand over his face. “Okay, right, that’s fine. I don’t exactly need to go right now. There is time.”

“You mean there are three days worth of time until you should go?”

“I guess…”

“No, that's just wrong,” Cedric argued. “I can wait until Harry comes back if you think that’s better. But as soon as he is back we will go to the safehouse.”

Harry gave him a look.

“Not like you can stop me, Haz,” Cedric said, flashing a smile, which was only a tiny bit crooked. He pointed at himself. “The Order came to pick you up early this time," he said resolutely and beckoned Harry to follow him out of the alley.

“Fine. Guess it’s better than leaving Harry stewing around, wondering if he’s been expelled.”

“Expelled?”

“Oh yeah, the Ministry expelled me for like ten minutes for casting the Patronus. They threatened to snap my wand too.”

“What kind of nonsense is that?” Cedric snorted. “As if you’d need a wand anyways.”

“I thought I did back then,” Harry admitted. “It was a pretty horrible experience. I kinda thought I’d lost the only home I’ve ever known...”

Cedric just shook his head. “Well then we’re definitely erasing that one,” he said. He brought out his wand, calling back his Patronus. “Find: Sirius Black,” he told the sparrow. “Tell him: Harry’s safe, evacuation in progress. We’ll be coming through the back door in-” He hesitated. “-in an hour.”

The sparrow disappeared into the night.

“You seem way too confident that I won’t be here in an hour anymore.”

“I’d be surprised if you lasted another half,” Cedric said, shrugging. When Harry gave him an incredulous look, he just added a simple: “I’ve been paying attention.”

They were walking up the Privet Drive now, the green lawns as green as Harry remembered, the bricks of the houses scrubbed clean, the-

“How are you going to get me there anyways?” Harry asked, shaking off the nostalgic feeling. It felt all wrong to feel nostalgic about this place. 

“We got the fireplace at Mrs. Figg’s temporarily connected to a few random places around England for easier access while we exchange shifts or travel places. Good thing that, I can’t exactly side-along you, you know.”

“What, no brooms?”

Cedric snorted. “Don’t tell me-”

“Oh yeah, a dozen people escorting me too.”

“What in Merlin’s name-”

Harry stopped at the driveway leading to Number 4. “They all wanted to escort the famous Harry Potter.” He gave Cedric a grin, spreading out his arms. “Guess the honor falls to you this time.” 

Cedric pocketed his wand, offering Harry a mocking shallow bow. “Well then, lead the way.”

Harry hesitated. “I haven’t been here in forever,” he admitted.

“We don’t have to go in,” Cedric decided, brandishing his wand again. “I can just locomotor your stuff out of the house.

Harry looked down the street, surveying the windows facing their way. “Think you’ll be in enough trouble even without us causing another scene,” he decided. “Let’s just…” He walked up to the front door, knocking at it twice.

The door ripped open only mere seconds later, Vernon Dursley staring down at him. “You’re late, boy,” he spat. Any time after Dudley came home was late after all, Harry remembered that much.

“You know what that means, don’t you?” uncle Vernon questioned, leaning over the threshold, his clenched fist braced on the door frame, his face swollen red and sweaty from the heat.

Harry watched the familiar furious expression with such a strong detachment that in the first second he thought he was being whisked forward in time again. It was a different sort of hook this time though. One that was latched higher, right inside his throat. 

“I told you to be back on time. You disobey me time and time again, boy, and I will not have it, you hear me?” uncle Vernon continued, his voice getting warbled by his anger. He grabbed Harry by the shoulder, his fist curling around a scrunched up material of Harry’s shirt and started to pull him inside of the house. “Not after the stunt you pulled earlier today. Bringing shame on us with these - after all the care we’ve given you- I don’t care what that freak has to say. I don’t care about that twig - into the cupboard, you -”

Harry stepped in forward, almost going along with it, but a gentle hand on his back stopped him. 

Ah.

Cedric stepped forward then, facing uncle Vernon. “I’m sorry to disturb you this late, sir. Harry actually won’t be staying for… whatever you had in mind for him. I came to pick him up.”

Uncle Vernon frowned, his hand pulling back. “Pick him up? What-? Who-?” As he was saying this, Harry noticed Aunt Petunia appear at the back of the hallway. “Vernon? What’s going on?

Uncle Vernon ignored her question, staring at Cedric. “You’re taking him with you?” he asked, frowning.

“Vernon, what’s-”

“And he won’t be returning for the rest of the summer?” uncle Vernon barged on.

“I don’t think so, sir.”

“Vernon, what-”

The angry grimace on uncle Vernon’s face started to slowly clear up. “It would seem we are getting rid of the boy early this summer, Petunia, dear,” he announced to his wife, waving his hand Cedric’s way.

She frowned, eying them suspiciously. “Don’t expect us to return any of the money,” she told Cedric, folding her arms over her chest.

“Oh, that's a new one,” Harry muttered, watching them.

Cedric apparently decided to just roll with it. “The money is yours to do with as you please. Now, if you’ll-” He looked over at Harry, who waved his hand to gesture up the staircase on the right side of the hallway. 

“After you,” Cedric said, his eyes lingering briefly on the door to the cupboard under the stairs.

They trudged up the stairs in relative silence, walking around the barely closed door to Dudley’s room where Harry caught the sight of him floating upside down above his bed. He shook his head, leading Cedric to his old room.

“I should have come up with that one myself,” he noted, waving in the direction of Dudley’s door. “Imagine how much easier-”

He paused when he caught Cedric scanning the door to his room - the door flap hanging limply at the bottom, the several locks placed on the outside of the door.

“I’m rethinking the sweets,” Cedric noted slowly. “I mean, Mrs. Figg implied a couple of things, but I didn’t think she-”

“I’ve never known Mrs. Figg to just imply anything,” Harry said idly, throwing himself on his old bed. The frame creaked under his weight, the mattress sucking him into the deep crevice in the middle of it, the slats digging uncomfortably into his spine. The headboard tipped over, a dull thud accompanying the movement. “There isn’t a living soul on Privet Drive that would shy away from gossip.”

Cedric eyed him as he closed the door behind himself. The chains on the door rattled as if trying to stay relevant.

“She did mention a few things,” Cedric admitted, bringing out his wand. Harry pointed to his school trunk. It was lying open on the floor near the window, halfway buried under a small mountain of clothes. 

“Do tell,” he said, putting his hands behind his head.

Cedric waved his wand. The clothes began to fold themselves neatly into the trunk.

“I’m not sure this is the right timing to-”

“Which was it?” Harry mused, unable to stop himself. “That I was malnourished? Neglected? Abused ?”

“Haz…”

Harry pushed himself up, looking around the bare impersonal room he had once called his. “Mrs. Figg should stop bringing up things that are none of her business, honestly,” he said. “This was nothing compared to some other shit I went through later. It’s-”

Cedric waved his wand, Hedwig’s cage shrinking into the open trunk, nestling itself neatly between Harry’s socks. “Like the time you almost died?”

“ Which of those?” Harry snorted. “You gotta be more specific than that, Rickie.” He looked over at Cedric, his tone taunting. “There were quite a few of those.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “You know which one. You mentioned it back at the entry to the Chamber of Secrets. The one where you said you would die for any of us. That you have done it… willingly .”

Harry looked away, watching his school books trott through the room and then somersault into his school trunk.

“Is that what this all leads to?” Cedric wondered softly. “Is that why they left you here, with these… people? Why they keep making you…? So that- what… you’d be willing to just die for us one day?”

“ They left me here so that when I did go die for you all, I’d be well protected,” Harry answered, waving his hands around. “This whole shebang was designed to make me survive what’s coming, to make the Boy-Who-Lived’s magic as strong as possible. So that when the time comes I could- Harry can -”

“Were you aware of that when you decided to sacrifice yourself though? That you’ll survive?”

Harry paused. “What does it matter?” he said slowly. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“You dying doesn’t help anybody, it just makes you fucking dead,” Cedric said, staring him down. “Didn’t you say that yourself?”

“Well, I didn’t fucking die, did I?” Harry laughed.

“Still hazy on how you got here?”

Harry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,”  Cedric said, flicking his wand to close Harry’s school trunk. “ I don’t know, Haz . I just… this doesn’t seem right.” He gestured around. “This-”

“This is how things are supposed to be.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Why though?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” Cedric argued. “If we can change things, can’t we-”

“We can change some things only. We’re just going to make sure people survive,” Harry said. “We can’t change this . This is what ends the war. This is what saves everybody. This is what I- what Harry needs to be able to do at the end of all of this. We can’t just change it. We have to be careful to keep the important things as is, otherwise-”

“ Haz. ”

“Rickie, please…”

“I can’t just-”

Harry was ripped away before he could hear the rest of the sentence, the look on Cedric’s face haunting him as he swirled through the darkness.

Chapter 8

Harry woke up lying on the floor, feeling sicker than ever.

“Harry! Harry?” Hermione shouted right into his ear.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, turning away from her loud voice. He looked down at the dusty darkened parquets, at the flaky wallpaper on the walls-

Ah. 

“Harry, mate, are you-“

“Wait, Ron, let me,” came a third voice. One that he grew very familiar with in the past few days.

Cedric squeezed in between them, the soft mustard shirt he was wearing speckled with pixie dust. It glittered in the afternoon sun that seeped into the room through a ragged pair of curtains pulled in tightly over a window in the corner. 

Hermione shuffled out of the way to let him through, despite her following words: “Cedric, I really don’t think you should-“ 

“He said he was fine, mate,“ Ron interrupted.  

“It will help with the dizziness,” Cedric insisted. Then there was a tip of a wand pressed gently to the side of his head, moving around in slow circles. The hold vertigo had on his brain slowly lessened, the glittering on Cedric’s shirt no longer in the shape of huge disks flashing all over him, just a multitude of tiny gentle flecks.

“There,” Cedric smiled down at him. “Better?”

Harry watched him for a few silent seconds. Contemplated… contemplated what? Ah, contemplated if he was going to announce himself this time around. But in the end he just decided to do it and so he said: “Thanks, Rickie.” and pushed himself resolutely up to his feet.

Cedric’s hand helped him along the way. “Welcome back,” he beamed. He was promptly pushed out of the way by Hermione though. 

“Harry, are you okay?” she asked. 

“Blimey, Harry, that pixie got you real bad," Ron joined, crowding him.

Harry took a step back. “Yeah, just need a moment.”

“Why don't I take him downstairs to-“ Cedric started.

“He’s fine,” Ron argued, glaring at him. “He said he was fine, Cedric, did you not hear him?”

“Well, maybe…” Hermione wondered, glancing between them. 

“Hermione!”

“Well-“

Harry shared a look with Cedric. “Actually I could use a cuppa,” he said, reaching up to touch the tender spot on his skull. “That pixie-“

“Oh!” Hermione jumped up, ready to accompany them.

“You’ll cover for me, won’t you, Ron? Hermione?” Harry said quickly.

Hermione paused, looking back at the pixie-infested wardrobe next to the window. She nodded.

“Of course, mate,” joined Ron.

“Be right back then,” Harry said, walking out with Cedric at his heels.

They crossed the hallway and descended the winding staircase. Harry paused somewhere in the middle of it, taking in a breath to smell the pungent mold around, to grip the creaking railing, to stare down to the ground floor at the curtain covering the infamous painting of Walburga Black.

“You good, Haz?” Cedric asked quickly.

Harry blinked. “Yes, I-“ he paused, giving Cedric a look as his new memories caught up with him. “You keep watching me weirdly," he summarized.

“Yes, well, I have a pretty good reason for that, don’t I?” Cedric said, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Harry doesn’t know the reason though.”

Cedric shrugged, leaning on the railing opposite of him.

“You’re also being overly kind,” Harry noted.

“I have a reason for that as well, wouldn't you say so?” Cedric said, lifting his eyebrows as if daring him to argue.

Harry sighed. “Still on that one, I see. It’s been ages.”

“Correction, it’s been like a moment ago for you,” Cedric reasoned. “So by all means you should be the one demanding we continue where we left off.”

Harry shifted. “In my defense my brain just got an update on weeks worth of memories, so the conversation feels old for me too.”

Cedric gave him a look. “You’re going to be difficult about this whole thing, aren't you?”

Harry just grinned. “What thing?”

Cedric laughed. “I’ll get you there eventually, don’t you worry. But first-“ He beckoned Harry to follow him down the stairs. He turned right as they reached the second landing and waved at the door at the end of the hallway.

Harry walked in closer, peering through the crack to see a big library lined by high dark bookcases that stretched out all the way up to the curved ceiling, the books glued to it by magic twisting and turning to create high alcoves. Not too far away from the nearest alcove stood Sirius, his back turned to Harry. He studied a heavy book. Remus stood right next to him, leaning over his shoulder to read it with him.

Harry paused at the sight of them both. He reached out to push the door open, opened his mouth to call out to them, to- but his fingertips barely grazed the surface of the door, his voice came out as a silent sigh only. The excited surprise in his chest died out as quickly as it came, corrupted, burned down-

He took a step back. And then another. And then he was outright running away, the new wallpaper glued to the walls around him flaking-

“Haz?” He could barely hear Cedric shout.

“Harry?” He could hear from far behind, the echo of the two familiar voices, the two-

And then he was running up the stairs, taking them by the two, trying to calm down the energy inside of him that threatened to spill, to burn, to- he couldn’t let it, he couldn’t let the panic overcome him, he couldn’t-

He jumped through the nearest opened door that showed an empty room and slammed it closed behind him. There he fell to his knees, curling down to have his body create a protective barrier as his magic raged. It struck out, piercing a hole in the underage lock and Harry groaned, using his hand to press it against his sternum, pushing it in metaphorically and literally.

Calm down.

Calm the fuck down . 

It hurt to push his magic back inside. It was like trying to stifle an exploding volcano, pushing the lava in with your bare hands, trying to snuff out its plummeting smoke by breathing it all in. It burned, it made him gag, it- he gasped as another gust of his magic burst through into the stale air around him, free to wreak havoc, free to… collide into a singing wall of magic he already knew. Magic he has touched before.

He looked around, searching for-

Cedric was standing near the door, his own magic swirling around, keeping Harry’s own contained, calming it down. He could feel it pushing at it, pushing it gently behind the underage lock until the lock could mend the tiny pinprick of a hole again.

Harry exhaled. It came out as an embarrassing gurgle.

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, sliding down to sit on the floor in a more comfortable position. “I can’t even…” He blinked. Tears escaped his eyes. He turned his back on Cedric, wiping them away with a careless movement of his hand.

“I have to save them,” he whispered. “Nothing else matters, do you understand?”

Cedric muled that over for a few moments and then whispered back a sad: “ You matter.”

Harry shook his head, feeling his jaw tighten again. “Not if I can’t save them,” he pushed out.

“So you only matter if you’re the Savior?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Harry said resolutely. “If that’s what saves their lives.” He nodded. “Then that’s what I will do.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Cedric asked. 

“If we change too much we lose the advantage of knowing what’s going to happen,” Harry reasoned. “I can’t save anybody then.” He sighed, pressing his cold fingers against his flushed face. “We can’t lose an advantage like this. Not if we are to win and keep everybody alive on top of it all.”

“Do you even remember all the-?”

“Daisy Spring and her four squib children - Clover, Iris, Rosa and Violet - kids kidnapped by Death Eaters in September, mother killed, kids used to sustain Nagini, one each month. There will be more of them after that. Muggle children from a nearby orphanage, small kids snatched in the middle of busy streets, side-alonged… sometimes two a month, sometimes one. I could pinpoint almost all the places where it happened. If we warn them or get there first, then maybe-”

“Haz-”

“Listen, I- shit, how am I going to- I will have to talk to someone in the Order to make sure they- shit, but if we keep saving everybody, Riddle will eventually get suspicious about the whole thing and change his tactics… and then we’re fuck-”

“Haz…”

“January. What are we gonna do about January?” Harry continued mercilessly. “There will be a mass breakout from Azkaban. All wizards and muggles on site will lose their souls in the process. And so will the occupants of four muggle villages along the coastline as Dementors enjoy their newly-found freedom.”

“Haz.”

“Can’t forget about Unspeakable Bode. He will get imperiused by Riddle to bring a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries,” Harry kept on. “Prophecies can only be touched by those who they’re about, you see. He dies touching it in January and he isn’t the only one at the ministry, who-

Cedric’s magic pressed up against him, suffocating like a fluffy pillow thrown into his face. Harry looked up at that, his sight blurry, heart violent, breath ragged.

“Fuck,” Harry breathed. “I should have gotten my shit together right at the start. Why did I not-”

He got up, stalking over to Cedric, who just stood there at the door, watching him with a worried expression on his face.

Harry waved a hand over his forehead, pulling out a condensed copy of the needed memories, the glowing thread chunky like an overgrown snail. “Take this,” he said, offering it to Cedric. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. I’ll try to be back as soon as possible, but- there should be someone out here with the needed information. I-”

Cedric reached out, creating a small chalice with his hands. Harry let the memory slide down into it, a sticky trail drying out on his palm. 

 “How do you even have all of this?” Cedric asked, studying the curled up snail in his hands. 

Harry looked down at it, his stomach churning. “I did some research after the war,” he admitted. “I was…” obsessed with it . “I wanted to know.”

“I’m not sure I am the right one to hold onto this, Haz,” Cedric admitted, his voice hushed. 

Harry reached over, enveloping Cedric’s hands with his own. He pressed his palms closer together, cocooning the glowing snail inside. Its light was so strong, it created a red spot on their joined skin. 

“You’re the only one who can,” Harry said earnestly.

Cedric nodded, his face paler than before. He took a deep steadying breath in, brought his hands up to his forehead and then pressed the memory against it. It slid through the skin as if it was nothing, disappearing inside, the glow painting Cedric’s skin yellow, then orange, then red… until it was back to its pale color. He gasped when the memories materialized in his brain.

Harry put a hand on his biceps, squeezing it. “You see now. You understand now, don’t you?”

Cedric stared, his eyes unfocused as he sifted through the list of names, places, causes of death. “How are we-” His voice was just as hoarse as Harry’s now. “There’s so many of them… how are we even going to-”

“I don’t know,” Harry confessed, equally horrified. “I’m sorry Rickie, I should have had a plan. Should have made one right at the beginning. I didn't think- It’s too late now, I know… we have to try though.”

Cedric nodded. Then shook his head. Then nodded again, turning away from Harry. “Haz, Merlin , this…”

Harry hated the weak tone of his voice, the slight tremble of his lower lip, the-

“You've been holding out on me,” he said, smiling. He reached out to touch Cedric’s magic then, his fingers gentle. The magic responded, bundling in closer, the inner turmoil in Cedric making it yearn for something indescribable.

Harry let out some of his, as much as the underage lock would allow, soft whisps caressing Cedric’s massive waves, calming them down, soothing… until they resonated together.

“I was… I was trying to see if I can learn that wandless thing you do,” Cedric said, his magic constricting awkwardly as he tried to fold it back into a tight knot inside of him. “I haven’t been very successful to be honest. I only managed to expand my magic outwards like this. I can't cast any spells with it though. No matter what I try to do, I can’t seem to get it to focus at all.” He took out his wand, waving it at the closest wall. “Reparo.” The peeled-off wallpaper rolled back on the plaster, lining up perfectly with the roll next to it. “Seems so easy with a wand.”

Harry turned, watching him pace around the room.

“That’s because it is,” he said. “The smaller the diameter of the focus object you force your magic through, the easier it is to direct it. That’s why thinner wands are easier to wield. That’s why there is a channeling item inside of them - what’s yours?”

“Unicorn hair.”

Harry nodded. “That’s a good channeling item for healing spells.”

“Yours has the feather of a phoenix, doesn’t it?” Cedric asked as he knitted together the ripped curtains. “What is that one good for again?”

“Defensive spells,” Harry replied. “The boost is nice when you're starting off, but - to be fair many wizards do get by as is, but casting aloud, wand movements and all that fancy stuff - it just gives away too much sometimes. It gives you quite a lag too. Milliseconds that could cost you a lot in a fight.”

“Right,” Cedric said, fixing up the curled up parquet planks around the room. “So you just… what? Cast directly from your core?”

Harry hummed. “Yes. Or sometimes I just use my hands, since it’s the intuitive thing to do,” he explained.

Lifting his forefinger to point into space, he conjured a brightly green butterfly. “Start with one finger, the diameter is not that different from a wand. It’s easy to draw the standard movements too if needed.” He did it again, exaggerating the movement of his hand to show it off properly. The butterfly fluttered up and then settled somewhere on top of his head, right next to his previous conjuration. 

Cedric stopped repairing the mess around the room to watch him. 

“Once you master that,” Harry moved his middle finger to join his forefinger and conjured another butterfly without any special movement whatsoever. “Just expand the diameter.” He then raised up three fingers. Another butterfly fluttered up.

“More and more, until this,” he raised all of his fingers, “is just as easy as this .” Harry tilted his hand, creating a perpendicular angle between his hand and forearm.

“You can try alternating hands, try to learn how to siphon magic through each.” Another butterfly appeared. He must have already had a bunch of them sitting all over him.

“And then you can start learning how to turn any part of your body into a focus object, depending on the spot you choose you can shorten the distance significantly.” He pressed his hand to his chest, watching a dozen butterflies emerge out of it. “It will get a lot easier to transition into just using your core then.” Harry looked up at Cedric, reaching out with his core to create a bunch more butterflies seemingly out of thin air without moving any part of his body, without any command whatsoever.

Cedric watched them flutter around for a bit, then shook his head. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he said in amusement, sliding his wand into the holster on his side. “Distracting me with flashy magic.”

Harry grinned. “Is it working?” he asked, conjuring more butterflies as he spoke. They flew around them, spiraling higher and higher until they burst into a nothingness, showering them with sparkling lights.

“You’re a menace, Potter,” Cedric mused, sitting down on the floor.

“A hazard, you mean,” Harry mocked, sliding down next to him.

They sat there silently for a few brief moments, leaning against the metal of a radiator under the window. The room was cold despite the relentless heat outside.

Cedric leaned back, staring up at the ceiling. “What if… what if we get rid of him before any of it could happen? You already did it once, you already possess the knowledge. We could use that and-”

“I can’t do that while I’m underage,” Harry said, shaking his head. “The underage lock-”

“Didn’t you just almost burst it open?”

Harry gave him a look. “There is a reason magical cores are locked until wizards come of age.”

“I know, but if anyone could handle it, it would be you.”

“It would be alright while I’m in the body, but once Harry comes back…” Harry sighed. “He doesn’t know about any of this shit yet. It would tear him apart. It’s too early.”

Cedric made a face. “I could teach him?”

“Not enough time.”

“Hmm… maybe it can be locked up again after you’re gone?”

“We’d need a ward expert at hand to-”

“My dad knows people. I could see if-”

“Won’t be enough,” Harry noted. “There are… things that must happen before Riddle can be truly dead.”

“Merlin… so, it’s true? He’s immortal? Is that how…?”

Harry nodded. “Split his soul into seven different parts. They tether each other to this world.” He spread out his fingers, then connected them. “It wouldn’t matter if I killed him right now. He wouldn’t die. The… those parts would pull him back in, keep in here.”

“Maybe it would be worth it if it takes him this long to respawn?” Cedric wondered. “We could… kill him and then hunt down those other pieces of his soul while he regroups.”

Harry gave him a searching look at that, but then just shook his head. “His servants already know what to do to bring him back. I don’t think it would win us that much time. They’ll just repeat the same ritual from before.”

“He needs you for the ritual though, why don’t we just-”

“Not necessarily, no.”

“Ah, what if…hmm, we trap that one piece after we kill him ?” Cedric wondered. “Trap it in like…”

“A horcrux,” Harry supplied. “That’s what it’s called. A vessel that is charmed to hold a soul or a piece of it at the very least.”

“A horcrux,” Cedric said, trying out the word. “What if we did that then?”

Harry thought about it for a long moment. “I don’t know how to make a horcrux, not really.”

“Would Dumbledore know?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “Not how to make them for other people, I don’t think.”

“Might be worth a try to ask.” Cedric’s face scrunched up as he remembered Harry’s list. “Before he dies. Merlin, this is so fucked up.”

Harry nodded silently.

Cedric leaned forward, drawing up his knees to brace his arms on them. “Maybe if we had a hocrux to study…”

Harry thought back to the depressing, anxious feeling affecting him when he reached the library earlier, thought back to how familiar that felt, how much it reminded him of something.

“There are actually two horcruxes in this house right now,” he said slowly, not sure what to do with that information.

Cedric’s arms slid off his knees. “There are?”

“I think one of them is hidden in the library, I- now that I think about it, I recognized the-”

“What is it?”

“It’s a locket. Slytherin’s locket.”

“Okay,” Cedric nodded. “We don’t have time to go find it right now. I can do that when you leave.”

“Don’t touch it. Don’t put it on.”

“Who would do that?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Alright, what’s the second one?”

Harry gave him a pained look.

“What?”

“You’re not gonna like this.”

“ Haz. ”

Harry reached up, tapping his scar.

“It’s you?!” Cedric exhaled in shock. “But that… how is that even…?”

“Killing rips the soul apart. It's a violation against nature,” Harry quoted, the memory as fresh as ever. “When Riddle tried to kill me the spell backfired. It turned against him. He apparently didn’t even realize it ripped a part of his soul out, he was already so ripped apart at that point he felt nothing, can you believe? And the loose part of his soul, it did what souls do… it latched itself to the nearest thing - me.”

“Wait… wait ,” Cedric wheezed. “You said… you had to die to defeat him.”

Harry nodded. “All horcruxes had to be destroyed before he could die for good.”

Cedric opened his mouth, but no words came out. He gulped. “There wasn’t a… like a- way to just remove it?”

“Not that I know of.”

“So you just… let him destroy you?” Cedric whispered. “How… how do you destroy a horcrux anyways?”

“It must be damaged to a point beyond any and all physical or magical repair,” Harry quoted. “Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, Killing curse… there’s probably more.”

Cedric pressed his palms against his eyes, moving them. “Alright, alright, I’ll process that later. So, that’s two, what about the rest?”

“I destroyed the diary in the second year,” Harry said, sticking out three fingers.

“Chamber of Secrets had a basilisk hiding in it, didn't it?”

“Yeah.” Harry smiled, then stuck out a fourth finger. “Then Rowena Rawenclaw’s diadem.”

“The one that was lost like a million years ago?”

“It’s currently hidden in the Room of Requirement,” Harry said.

“What? Why didn’t we destroy it when we were there the first time?”

“Err-”

“Haz!”

“I didn’t think of it.”

“Okay, fine… fifth one?”

“A ring, hidden somewhere in Riddle’s mom's old house in Little Hangleton,” he said, sticking out five fingers. He added a sixth one then. “Helga Hufflepuff’s cup stored in Lestrange's vault in Gringotts.”

“He is obviously compensating for something with all these rare heirlooms,” Cedric muttered in disbelief. “Okay, so… the seventh is his current soul, so that’s all, right?”

Harry smiled sheepishly. “Well, his own body is not a horcrux per se. The soul wasn't forced into it. Technically.”

“ Merlin. So eight parts altogether?”

“Yeah, the last one is his snake Nagini.”

“Are we sure that’s all of them? He’s apparently just shedding parts of his soul at this point all around. Could there be more?”

“Nope, I’m quite sure that’s all, yes.”

Cedric sighed, looking over at Harry. “This is madness.”

Harry opened his mouth to say - something - he wasn’t really sure what, but the hook in his navel tugged him away before he could say a single word, a knowing look in Cedric’s eyes the last thing he saw. The silent: “See you soon, Haz.” didn’t even reach his ears anymore as he disappeared into the darkness.

Chapter 9

Harry woke up alone, his body pressed against the cold stone floor of the Owlery, nestled between what could only be two very big heaps of owl pellets. The stench wasn’t really doing him any favors.

He blinked his eyes open, immediately blinded by the piercing morning sun seeping in through the nearest window. The dizziness felt worse than ever, his brain trying to accommodate his older self and catch up on the most recent batch of new memories. He-

The door to the Owlery swung open. Cho Chang stepped in with a whoosh of fresh air that eased Harry’s feeling to throw up.

“Oh… Harry?” She jumped in closer to him, pressing the neatly packed parcel to her chest, so she could pat his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Must have slipped,” Harry lied. “Hit my head, would you mind?”

Cho brought out her wand without a second thought. She cast a quick cleaning charm around the floor, his robes, his sticky hair and then pressed the tip of her wand against his temple, her movements quick and efficient as she got rid of the wooziness in his head.

“Don’t get up yet,” she ordered when Harry tried to push himself up. She put her package on the floor next to her shoes and then used both of her hands to cast a series of diagnostic charms on him.

“No injuries to the head,” she summarized and then squinted to the corner of her diagnostics. “You hurt your hand when falling down though, let me, I’ll-”

She reached over for his left hand, picking it up with a spell ready on the tip of her tongue. She paused when she saw the angry red letters at the back of it though.

“Harry,” she said uncertainly, looking over at him. “This…”

“Ah, don’t worry about that one,” he said, shaking her off. “The compelling magic needs to decay first and then it will heal on its own.”

Cho frowned, reaching for his hand again to look at it more closely, but Harry hid it from her, pretending to need it to get up to his feet.

“I heard you got detention arguing with Umbridge,” she said, seething. “That foul hag! Did she carve this into your hand as punishment? She won’t get away with this! Just because she won’t believe the truth-”

Harry shook his head. “She had me write lines with a Blood Quill, so technically she didn't do this to me, I did this to myself,” he explained, giving her a bitter smile. “It’s a perfect gap for her to exploit.”

“Why did you-” She shook her head. “Did you tell anyone?”

“I’m telling you now,” he said and then bent over to pick up her package. He pressed it into her hands. “Let everyone know not to get involved with her. The truth is not worth the punishment. She will not be here for more than a year. If you all keep out of her way, then-”

“Will you stay out of her way then as well?” Cho asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, I can’t,” Harry said, grinning wildly. “I am the main mascot of this whole rebellion, aren’t I?”

“Then how can you expect any of us to just sit idly while you get carved open?” Cho argued, her fingers making dents in the sparkly paper the package was wrapped in. “We won’t.”

Harry studied her for a moment. “Not even if I ask you to?”

Cho tsked. “Cedric was right, you know,” she said in the end, turning around in search for a suitable owl to carry her now slightly wrinkled package. “We must beat the martyrdom out of you by force, otherwise you'll just keep offering your skin up for us.”

“Doesn’t sound like something Rickie would say,” Harry noted.

Cho gave him a long searching look and then returned to her package. “We don’t need your protection, you know,” she said. “We are capable of taking care of ourselves. It will do you good to accept that.”

“Cho-”

“Go,” she ordered, waving him away. “Go before I hex your eyebrows off. Or worse .” The warning was clear in her voice and Harry honestly didn’t have time to argue with her either way. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and opened the door to the Owlery. “Filch incoming, be careful.”

She ignored him as she tied the package to a sleepy barn owl.

Harry walked out into the early morning, hurrying across the school grounds, slipping past Filch who wobbled in the direction of the Owlery. Mrs. Norris faltered, staring Harry’s way, but when Filch psps-ed her over, she listened, forgetting about ever seeing him there.

“Expecto Patronum,” Harry cast when he got closer to the castle. The stag trotted over to him, waiting for the instructions. “Find: Cedric Diggory. Tell him: I’m back, Rickie.”

The stag reeled back, gaining momentum as it ran around him and then disappeared in the direction of the castle. A mere moment later it was replaced by a small sparrow. It fluttered down, opened its mouth and said. “The Entrance Hall.”

Harry nodded to it as it disappeared into thin air. He got to the Entrance Hall first and moved to stand at the side of the Grand Staircase, still under the Disillusionment Charm. Only when Cedric walked into the Entrance Hall did he lift it, waving his hand at him.

Cedric zeroed in on him instantly. He walked past him and beckoned Harry to the nearest wall.

“Do your thing,” he said. 

Harry whispered a quick: “Open up”. The magic of the Chamber reacted instantly, opening up a hole in the stones.

It was only after they were safely out of the view that Cedric reached over, squeezing his biceps gently. “Welcome back, Haz. Been here long? How much time do we have? There is so much we-”

“Came to at the Owlery. Cho helped me get rid of the-” he waved to his head. “Couldn’t have been more than twenty-”

Cedric grabbed his left hand, staring at the letters, the look on his face copying Cho’s when she noticed it earlier. “Is this what she did to you in detention?”

Harry pulled his hand away from his grasp. “I’m fine,” he started to say but the look on Cedric’s face stopped him from completing the sentence. “I really am,” he tried again. “It’s just a stupid Blood Quill. She thinks she can compel me to say the truth about what happened that night, deny everything, confess that I made it all up.” Harry laughed. “It will only make me yell out the truth louder, you know. Anyways, we should-”

“We should treat that,” Cedric said.

“You won’t be able to heal it,” Harry said, shrugging. “Not until the Compelling Charm wears off, so-”

Cedric rolled his eyes. He put his wand away and then lifted his hand, performing a simple Transfiguration Charm on his tie. The tie slid off his neck, shed all its color and folded into a tight roll of bandage. He then asked for Harry’s hand, scougifying the wound, numbing the pain with a local spell that he pressed into his skin with his gentle fingers.

“Oh,” Harry noted, watching his fingers move.

Cedric just shrugged. He turned Harry’s hand over, checking the way the bandage wrapped around it.

Harry squeezed his fingers. “Thanks, Rickie.”

“Anytime,” Cedric said, smiling over at him. He then let go of his hand and gestured down the stairs. “Right. So. Am I correct to assume that there is a basilisk corpse at the end of this tunnel?”

“Absolutely.”

“A basilisk corpse with fangs coated in venom that can be used to destroy a horcrux?”

“Yep.”

“Well then lead the way, kind sir, we have some collecting to do.”

 

_

 

“I assume you found the locket then?” Harry asked, as they descended the spiraling staircase, the tunnel tightening around them the lower they got. It was a very claustrophobic feeling. 

“Yes, it was in the library, just as you said,” Cedric confirmed, following behind him. 

“The diadem?” Harry wondered.

“Yep, found that one too.”

“Where did you-”

“Err, I actually… look - before we go any further, I have a thing to confess,” Cedric said, stopping in place.

Harry turned around, looking up at him. “Yes?”

“This whole thing, it can’t be a one-man mission no matter how much you’d like it to be,” Cedric said. “I had to include some additional people in to make sure we’re covered on all fronts.”

“What people?”

“I didn’t tell them about you, just in case it would ruin something along the way, but there was no way I would be able to prevent whatever attacks are happening outside of school while I’m here. And there was also no way for me to just walk around with horcruxes in my pockets.”

“Nobody can know we are hunting down his horcruxes, Rickie,” Harry said. “What if it gets to him? What if he moves the remaining ones? Who did you-”

Cedric put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently. “Look, I am well aware that this is a sensitive matter, but I am not equipped enough to deal with any of this and you… the couple of hours we get with you here every few weeks are just… it’s not enough to change everything we want to change.”

Harry pursed his lips. “Who?”

“Bill Weasley for the horcruxes,” Cedric said. “I swore him to secrecy when I gave him the locket.”

“You gave - you didn’t destroy it?”

“Not yet,” Cedric admitted. “Neither did we destroy the diadem yet. He is currently in possession of both of them and hopefully will have more of them soon. I- I’m working on that.”

“You could have just used the Fiendfyre to-”

“Well, yes, but then Bill wouldn’t have a chance to study them and possibly figure out how to help you.”

Harry shook his head. “I told you I don’t need help. I will be fine .”

“Yes, well…” Cedrid reached over, grabbing his bandaged hand. “If you’re not willing to take care of yourself, then I might as well-”

“This again?” Harry shook off his hand, turning around to keep walking down the stairs. “ Honestly . Can you not ? I keep telling you I’m fine .”

“That’s one way to look at it I guess.”

Harry let out a loud sigh, shaking his head. “Fine, well… who else?”

“You’re not going to like this one,” Cedric said.

“Lay it on me.”

“Severus Snape.”

Harry paused, bracing himself on the walls at the sides. He looked up at Cedric.

“Look, I know you don’t like him, but I needed someone who could feed the needed information from your memory to the Order,” Cedric said quickly. “If I came to them myself then there would be no way they’d believe me. And even if they did, it would be too suspicious, it would bring them onto you. This way… Snape is here at Hogwarts, I can give him all the info needed and he can- look, I know you two have some sort of thing going on, but I swear , I did not tell him anything about horcruxes or about you, Haz. He’s only getting as much as we need to stop innocent people from dying. I keep my shields up around him, he is not going to-”

“Both of those actually make sense when I think about it,” Harry said. “Snape included.”

Cedric watched him carefully. “Alright, I did not expect that reaction, but I’m not mad at it.”

“I mean he can be an asshole, but… we can trust him,” Harry said, turning back to walk down the remaining few steps.

The tunnel opened up into the Chamber of Secrets. Whatever reply Cedric had on the tip of his tongue got lost in the stunned silence when they entered the chamber through one of the snake’s mouths hissing alongside it. Fires rose on the perimeter as the magic recognised the new guests. Harry did not hesitate, turning to the well-lit giant face statue at the front, moving towards-

“Wait,” Cedric hissed, grabbing his shoulder. “Are we sure it’s dead?”

Harry watched the basilisk lie there in the same position as it did when he left the chamber with Ginny all those years ago, the same position Ron and Hermione would find it in two years time, the same he found it in again years later after he left Hogwarts. “It’s dead alright,” he confirmed.

“Right… just… checking,” Cedric said as he followed closely behind, his hand pressed against the wand holster on his side. 

They walked along its stretched-out body and Harry was surprised to notice that he could actually see over it when he went up on the tips of his toes. “That’s funny,” he noted, patting the top of its body where the scales rose up in the middle to create dull spikes. “Could have sworn it was bigger.”

Cedric gave him one of his looks. “It’s big enough as is, Haz.”

Harry just gave him a shrug and approached the head.

“You fought this thing all by yourself back in the second year?” Cedric asked, surveying the huge mouth hanging wide open, the two sets of pointy fangs, still as sharp as ever. 

“Nah, I’ve had help. Dumbledore sent me his phoenix and the Sorting Hat,” Harry said, peering into the basilisk’s mouth. He beckoned Cedric closer to do the same.

“The Sorting Hat?” Cedric asked skeptically. He rummaged around in his robes, taking out what looked like a dozen small beads. Once he touched each, they grew into glass jars that could fit a fang or two. “What did the Sorting Hat do? Sing a song? Or did you use it to cover your eyes?”

“I actually managed to pull the Sword of Gryffindor out of it to stab this sucker right through his brain,” Harry said, pointing at the gaping hole at the back of the basilisk’s throat.

Cedric stared inside for a few moments and then just shook his head. “How did you even get on top of it?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Harry explained, demonstrating by inserting his arm into the basilisk's mouth right where the one missing fang created a gap. “I went this way.”

Cedric paused. “I am guessing there wasn’t a fang missing before, was there? Ah… so that’s why there was a phoenix with the hat, the tears?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, rolling up the sleeve on his left arm. “The fang went through my arm right here.” he pointed out a healed patch of skin right between two of his moles. “You can’t even tell there was a whole fang stuck in it.”

Cedric reached over to press his fingers against the patch of skin. “And that didn’t kill the horcrux inside of you? Are we even sure the venom will work?”

“Well, the horcrux itself is not stored within my arm now, is it? It’s in the scar and it can affect the surrounding area which is why it gets into my mind so easily,” Harry reasoned, rolling the sleeve back down. “Guess the phoenix healed me way too quickly, the venom didn't reach far enough.”

“Well thanks Merlin it didn’t,” Cedric muttered, conjuring a pair of protective gloves for his hands and reaching over to grasp one of the fangs.

“Either way, the fang worked on the diary and later on also on the cup,” Harry noted. He watched Cedric pry one of the fangs out of the basilisk’s mouth and deposit it into the waiting jar. “Now that I think about it… the Sword of Gryffindor can destroy a horcrux as well. If I had known that I could have just ignored the basilisk and gone right for the diary. Actually, wouldn’t it be much better to sneak into Dumbledore’s office and take the sword instead? Or use Fiendfyre? The fangs seem a bit… unpractical.”

Cedric shrugged. “Bill recommended the fangs. Said he’d rather not use Fiendfyre at Gringotts. And also… I kinda promised a few to Snape for playing along, so that’s two birds with one stone I guess,” he said, closing the two jars he had just finished filling up. 

“Sometimes I wonder why you’re a Hufflepuff and not a Slytherin.”

“Green isn’t really my color,” Cedric said, reaching for another jar. “Besides, the whole point of the Sorting Hat is to choose where you want to go and… I wanted to go to Hufflepuff. It seemed like the… easiest option”

“Easiest? In what way?”

“My dad,” was all Cedric said to that, suddenly very busy with the fang in his hand. 

Harry felt like he wasn’t to pry so instead he said: “The hat wanted to place me in Slytherin, can you imagine?”

Cedric glanced his way. “Why did you choose Gryffindor?”

“I didn’t know anything about magic until Hagric showed up on my doorstep the morning the Hogwarts Express was supposed to leave London,” Harry said. “He took me to buy all the needed stuff and left me at the muggle part of the station. I just happened to bump into the Weasleys there… so yeah, I wasn’t exactly up to date on any of the houses. Ron mentioned Gryffindor was cool and Slytherin was bad, so I just rolled with it when the time came.”

“That’s… weird,” Cedric noted. “Don’t they send out advisors at the beginning of the summer to guide muggle kids along? Sometimes even sooner when the Ministry registers a certain level of underage magic.”

“Err… not in my case, they didn’t.”

Cedric pursed his lips.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, I can see it written all over your face.”

“It’s just weird, it’s all,” Cedric said slowly. “The way they keep treating you. Like… you don’t matter at all? I don’t like it.”

“Guess it was necessary.”

“Oh, it was necessary alright,” Cedric noted, ripping a fang out of the basilisk's mouth with such force that he staggered back. He sighed, depositing it carefully into the jar below.

“Rickie…”

“This is probably enough,” Cedric announced before Harry could continue. He collected the five jars, transfiguring his gloves into a case to store them in. “We should head back soon. You’re almost out of time. Have you had any luck aiming for a specific time yet?”

Harry shook his head, pointing out the snake’s head they came through. They walked into its mouth, up the spiraling staircase, Harry following Cedric, always just-

“I wish I could be more helpful,” he muttered, “Like this I just… keep appearing at random intervals, never able to do any good. Maybe if I could stay longer, maybe if I could-” He pressed his hand against his navel, hoping he could grab the hook lodged inside, tear it out and stay here, stay and do what he was meant to do from the start, what he was always meant to do, the-

“You’re plenty helpful, Haz,” Cedric said. The soothing tone of his voice only unnerved Harry more. 

“That’s not true and you know it. I-” Harry stopped. “I just dumped this whole thing on you and then left you to it. This shouldn’t be your responsibility. It isn’t your responsibility. It’s mine. It’s Harry’s .”

Cedric stopped as well, looking down at him. “You saved my life,” he noted as if that meant anything, as if that changed anything about it. 

“I didn’t. I didn’t do anything. I’m not doing anything,” Harry argued. “You made the decision yourself. You saved your own life. Then why don’t you just live it? This… getting you involved in this- what if you- I don’t have any frame of reference for you being involved, what if- what if- I should have- ”

“Haz.” His tone was way too gentle. Harry hated it. He hated that he could hear pity in it, could hear the-

“Haz,” Cedric repeated a bitter short laugh following the word. “I am not involved in any of this. Not directly. I am just a glorified owl, bringing information to where it needs to go, the Order takes care of the rest.”

“That’s still- then I’m just endangering the Order members. That’s just as fucked up! I should be able to-”

“-handle this on your own?” Cedric finished.

“Yes! Yes, why is that so hard to understand?!”

“I understand,” Cedric said. “I just don’t agree with it.”

Harry was past listening though. “It’s my job to do this, it’s my job to save you all.”

“What? Single-handedly save all the people that died in the Second Wizarding War?”

“Yes. It’s my responsibility.”

“How is this all your responsibility?”

“Because I’ve been chosen.”

“Well, I’m unchoosing you then.”

“You can’t just- that’s not how it works. There is a prophecy and all.”

“Well, if the prophecy says so…”

“It does.”

“Why stop there then?”

“What?”

“Why not go back even further, save everybody who died in the First Wizarding War as well?”

“I mean-”

“Wait, why just people who died in the war? Why not also those whose death was an accident?” Cedric continued. “Like Luna’s mom. What, is she not worth saving?”

“That’s not what I sai-”

“What about people who died of sickness or of old age? Are they not worth your time?”

“Rickie…”

“Haz, maybe it’s time for you to take a step back and-”

“I can’t.”

“You can,” Cedric insisted. “It’s easy.”

Harry gave him a pleading look. 

“Alright,” Cedric said, putting the case down on one of the stairs above them. “Let me teach you something for a change.” He said, bracing his hands on his hips. “How many times have you jumped?”

Harry pressed his cold fingers against the hot skin on his forehead. “I don’t know… ten? What does it matter?”

“Right.” Cedric nodded, squinting. “So that’s over what… two-three days worth of constant stress and anxiety. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep at all?”

“I actually did. That one time after the tournament.”

“You took a few minutes worth of a nap, you mean.”

Harry shrugged. 

“What about food? Any kind of food?” Cedric continued. “Water? Any kind of a drink?”

“I am in this body for a few hours each time only, there is no need for any of it.”

“Toilet breaks?”

“Really?”

“What about any sort of rest?” Cedric asked, ignoring his answer.

“I get enough rest lying on the floor after each jump.”

“Lying on the floor feeling too dizzy to get up?”

“Last time I was here I just sat on the floor the whole time, remember?”

“Stressed out beyond control. Yes, I remember.”

Harry sighed. “Do we even have time for this shit? Shouldn’t we make sure Harry comes to-”

“We’re not talking about Harry now, we’re talking about you , Haz,” Cedric pressed. “Harry has Ron and Hermione, other Gryffindors…. now  granted that’s not much, but it’s a support system alright. They’ll take care of him. Who’ll take care of you if not you yourself though?”

You will. “Fine, well, I haven’t had a rest in a while,” Harry confessed. “ So what? ”

“So… let’s start small.” Cedric smiled, spreading his arms.

Harry raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “Really?”

“Oh yes.”

Harry sighed, sliding his fingers down to his eyes to press his finger pads against his eyelids. “And this is gonna help how ?”

“You wanna talk benefits or you wanna find out, Potter?” Cedric said, beckoning him closer with his fingers.

Harry pursed his lips, suddenly unsure.

“Why do you have to be such a Hufflepuff about this?” he complained instead of moving.

“Why aren’t you a Gryffindor about this?” Cedric challenged and at that point Harry decided he wasn’t brave enough to answer that, so he might as well do the second best thing and lean into the hug.

He climbed up the one step dividing them, pressed in close and put his arms around Cedric’s midriff. Cedric responded before he was even close enough, his arms around his shoulders, pulling him in so deep Harry had to turn his head to the side, his cheek pressed against his shoulder. He could feel the tip of his shoes pressing against the stone step on which Cedric was standing, the gentle touch of his robes against his sides, the firm hold squeezing him just right, Cedric’s cheek against the back of his head, the heartbeat, the warmth, the-

And then Cedric’s hand traveled higher, sliding under the messy mop of hair sticking to the back of his sweaty neck. It covered the cool skin there with his warm palm, the heat so overwhelming, Harry trembled, pressing his lips together lest he-

“How come there are doors to the Chamber of Secrets down here?” Cedric whispered his question into his hair. “Wasn’t the entrance supposed to be somewhere around that girl’s bathroom on the second floor?”

“Ah, well.” Harry managed to unstick his lips. “From what I can guess, all the entrances were eventually blocked off in one way or another with the newer additions to the castle and so the magic within the chamber did what magic does. It found a way in between the bricks. It just comes when you call it. It extends the entrances upwards to wherever needed.”

Cedric hummed, the sound reverberating inside his body. “That’s pretty neat.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed, relaxing. “Neat.”

Cedric gave his body one last squeeze and then let go of him and as he did so Harry felt the hook in his navel tug him away before he could even look at him.

Chapter 10

“Harry!”

“Oh no, Harry!”

“Out of the way, Neville.”

“Make some space, you guys, come on.”

“You heard her, make some space.”

Harry opened his eyes only to have a wand shine right into them. He closed them again, jerking away. Then the wand was pressed against his head in a familiar circular motion. With that the usual dizziness disappeared.

He dared to look up then, only to end up face to face with Angelina Johnson and a dozen other worried faces.

“Harry!” Neville exclaimed, cradling his wand close to his chest. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to actually hit you.”

“The whole point was for you to hit me,” Harry answered, pushing himself up. He grinned over at Neville. “That was quite the spell.”

Neville blushed. “I concussed you though,” he muttered.

“You sure did,” Harry praised as Angelina helped him up. He then looked around the room, recognizing the magic of the Room of Requirement. It was transformed into the training grounds of Dumbledore's Army, a hundred golden baubles hanging from the ceiling, each showing a picture of Harry’s face, a thousand fairy lights and one large mistletoe clump near the main entrance. Harry’s eyes traveled automatically to Cho standing further away, her shoulder pressed against Marietta’s, both of their faces a lot happier than Harry had remembered them at this time.

“How much more time do we have? Enough to try something new?” he wondered, scanning the suddenly excited faces around.

“Didn’t you say we’ll keep reviewing what we already know today?” Hermione asked.

“Yes, but you were all doing so well,” Harry said, giving them a smile. “And well, it’s Christmas soon, so why don’t we do some DIY?”

Zacharias Smith just scowled his way. “DIY? What does that even mean?”

It only made Harry’s smile widen. He made sure to use his wand as he waved to the ceiling. Two dozens of the golden baubles levitated down into each of their extended hands, transforming into a flat glass marble with a golden tint to it.

“Now, I know we’ve already learnt a bunch of spells on how to incapacitate your opponent, Expelliarmus as a stellar example of the bunch. But this one, my friends, this one is one of the most powerful ones I know,” he said, lifting up his own marble to look at each and every one through it.

Cedric’s eyes shone knowingly as he watched him.

“We’re going to learn how to create a void object ,” Harry announced, lifting his marble.

Hermione gave him a confused look. “A void object? What… Harry, we’ve never-”

“A void object is a charmed object of any kind that resets the magical charge of its environment to zero. It negates all magic without exceptions.” Harry explained. “Which means that anybody and anything in its vicinity, your opponent included, will not be able to use any magic at all for as long as they are within the vicinity of the void.”

A stunned silence fell over the room.

“Now, the drawback of that as you can all imagine is that it also renders your own magical core unusable, so it should really be only used in very specific situations to increase your chances of survival or… I will be totally honest with you, when you feel you could overpower your opponent without magic, which I must say is very probable with these stuck up old families that can’t even shower without using magic.”

A laugh echoed through the room, the Weasley twins being the loudest among the group.

“I’ve never heard of any magic capable of doing that,” Zacharias said loudly, holding the marble in his outstretched palm as if it offended him.

Fred snorted at that. “Well, you’re daft as hell, so of course-” 

“It’s like the void spots wizards are warned not to visit,” Luna spoke up over them. “Many unsuspecting wizards wander into these and the Glowpuffs residing there suck all their magic dry, leaving them to live the rest of their lives as squibs.”

“This will suck out our magic?” Colin asked worriedly. Dennis even took a step back to cower away from the marble Harry held in his hand.

“It’s a location-specific charm. It does not suck away your magic. It negates the charge within its vicinity only,” Harry explained, looking around the room. “But Luna is sorta right. The wizard who came up with this one studied the magical patterns at a void spot he happened to stumble upon and managed to copy the magic. Or rather the lack of magic .“

“What if you cast it on a person though?” Fred asked.

“Then whatever object the spell hits will become a void object until the spell decays,” Harry explained. “It can be a piece of clothing, part of your body. The spell itself can not pass through any matter other than gaseous stuff like air, so it won’t be able to get deep enough to get to your magical core. Even if it did, the spell decays quite quickly, so you’d be back to normal as soon as it does. It’s not a black hole, a magical imbalance like that is not possible as you all know.”

“So wait,” George spoke up. “Could I potentially cast it on my cloak and… create an armor no spell can get through?”

Harry grinned. “Yes. But it will negate your magic as well.”

His answer created a wave of outrage within the Room of Requirement.

“What if somebody throws a sword at me with magic?” came a question.

“Well, as long as the spell is active the magic on it would disappear, but you have to keep in mind that gravity and momentum won’t, so you better duck the fuck out of there.”

“How long would such a void object stay active though?”

“That depends on the amount of magic you put into creating it and the amount of magic around it,” Harry explained. “Creating one in the Room of Requirement which is churning with inert magic, inside of Hogwarts, that will be tough. It won’t last too long. Maybe a few minutes at maximum, I’d say? Won’t go further than a meter or so in perimeter, I don’t think.”

“So what’s it good for?” Zachary asked. “If it lasts such a short time?”

“You get a fucking impenetrable cloak for a few minutes you moron,” Ginny said, her hands braced on her hips. “Anybody firing at you would not-”

“He just said it’s penetrable with-”

“Well-”

“What about the Unforgivables?” Neville’s voice rose from the background, rendering the whole room silent once more.

Harry nodded. “Unforgivables included.”

“The… Cruciatus?”

“Wait, Imperius too?”

“And the Killing curse,” Harry added. He scanned the room to see the realization settle on each of their faces, Cedric’s included.

“Hermione,” Harry spoke up into the ringing silence, turning to her. “I’m going to need you to put an exception on the parchment we all signed so that each of our members can teach this spell to anybody they wish without facing any of the repercussions.”

Hermione nodded silently.

“Right, let’s start then, shall we?” Harry called out, the excitement rising as each and every member looked down on the inert marble in their hands.

Harry took a few steps to the side to come sort of in line with the invisible entrance to the Room of Requirement and then faced them. “Please create a corridor on both sides of me,” he instructed, gesturing with both of his hands.

“Why?” Zachary asked

“Could you just-” Ernie started to say, but Harry beat him to the answer. “Because if you all succeed it will render part of the Room’s magic inert and I don’t want you to end up stuck in a wall or worse. The Room was originally a corridor leading to an altar made out of wishing stones from the lake. The magic cumulated over a thousands of years of students wishing made it come alive and transform into the Room of Requirement, but if we-”

“How do you even know that?” Hermione asked, frowning. “Nothing like that was ever mentioned in Hogwarts: A History and we-”

“Dumbledore,” Harry lied and turned back to the two rows of students standing impatiently along his sides. “Let’s practice first.”

He put the marble in front of the invisible door and then turned his wand on it. “You don’t do any movement when casting per se, the movement comes once you connect to the object you have chosen. You point at it, holding your hand steady and once you connect to it, you start to slowly pull at it, drawing it closer to your body, like a fisher who caught a fish.”

He demonstrated the movement. “Now the reason we do this is to enhance the strength of it, the perimeter, the time it lasts,” he explained while they practiced the move. “You will feel resistance once you connect to your object. You must be very careful not to pull too hard. It would break the connection. You can’t pull too weakly either, otherwise the spell will be weak and collapse on you.”

“How do we know how strong to pull then?” Ernie asked.

“You’ll have to practice that,” Harry said. “It’s different with each object, different in each environment. Hogwarts will give you a lot of resistance for example, but muggle areas, especially those with wi-fi-”

“Wi-fi?” Colin asked.

“With any kind of muggle broadcasting in the air,” Harry said quickly. “Magic there is weaker, canceled out by the transmitters.”

“Right,” Dennis said, nodding.

“Now the incantation is quite easy as well,” Harry said. “ Vocitus, with an accent on the ci part. If you need a bit of a push, you can move your wand a tad forward at the ci sound. It does help create the connection if you are unfamiliar with the spell. ”

“ Vocitus,” the group repeated without using their wands. And then brought up their wands, imitating the movement of Harry’s

“Just like that,” Harry praised. “Now the trickiest part of the spell. You are all used to casting a spell one way only - from inside out. You tap into your magical core, take a bit of magic and lead it out to do your bidding. The void object can not be created that way. It needs the reverse. What you need to do-” He turned back to his marble lying on the floor and pointed at it, holding his wand tightly in his hand. “-is connect to the object and start pulling magic out of it, reel it in - imagine milk skin, you sticking your wand in it and try to pull it out like that.”

Padma and Parvati were the only ones who hummed in agreement at that, the rest made a slightly disgusted noise. 

“If you want to have a big void area, you may turn your wand a bit while pulling it back,” Harry continued, ignoring their reactions. “Vocitus,” he cast, connecting to his marble with a practiced ease. He then started to pull the magic in and as he did so, the mat-covered floor of their training room started to fade out from around the marble, revealing the classic stone floor they knew from the castle corridors. The void crawled up the floor to the invisible door. It threw away its glamor revealing an ornate double door - a tiny replica of the one leading to the Great Hall with its own carvings. Harry let the void crawl up halfways, until it got way too hard to pull it in, his restrained magical core fighting against the pull as well, and then severed the spell.

“You have to be careful to stay out of the vicinity when you cast, otherwise it will zero out your magic as well and it will collapse on you, alright?”

He walked into his void spot, squatting down over his marble to be fully covered by it.

“Now, I want each one of you to use your most vicious spell on me,” he instructed, grinning up at them. “Nothing that uses secondary objects please, just strictly magical stuff.”

Harry just grinned wider when the group hesitated. “On a count of three. One. Two. Three!”

A chorus of spells rose up from in front of him, jets of bright color rushing towards him so quickly he’d hardly be able to jump out of the way. He didn’t need to though, because they all dissipated as soon as they reached the border of his void spot.

“Now it’s your turn,” he told the group as he got up.

 

_

 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Cedric noted as the last of Dumbledore’s Army trickled out of the Room of Requirement. He moved Harry’s marble, which was still going strong to make sure the double door disappeared back into the wall 

Harry shrugged, watching him walk in close to where he was sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the huge pillows.

“So… the mysterious wizard who came up with this spell?” Cedric asked, sitting down opposite of him. He set both of their marbles between them, watching how Harry’s affected the ground beneath, turning it into stones.

Harry shrugged. “Might have in fact been me.”

“Stumbled upon a void spot?”

“Might have actually had a cottage built on one,” Harry admitted. “Copied the spell to carry it with him whenever he went to just try and live as a muggle. It didn’t last.” Was all he said to that. 

“Spell kept decaying?”

“That too.”

“This is actually really helpful though,” Cedric noted, bringing up his inert marble. “We won’t need a ward expert after all. One strong void object might do the trick.”

“A ward- oh .” Harry thought about it for a moment. “That could actually work.”

“If it dissipates a Killing Curse that’s rumored to be unstoppable, it will keep your unrestrained core in check alright,” Cedric noted, placing his marble back down. “Still.” He looked up at Harry. “I’m surprised you didn’t run out on us and go straight to Snape or maybe Riddle even.”

“I did consider it,” Harry admitted. “But even if I did, there wouldn’t have been enough time to accomplish anything. Thought this might be a lot more useful moving forward and… well, you seemed like you needed a bit of a rest.”

Cedric sighed, averting his eyes. 

“You’ve been busy,” Harry noted. 

Cedric nodded.

“Saving people,” Harry said, digging in his updated memories. “Sirius said Snape’s been bringing in so much intel, that even he’s been called into action a couple of times.”

“Yes, well, the Order is quite short on active members,” Cedric said.

“And Lupin wasn’t even sent out to the werewolves as planned because of that,” Harry said. “Hagrid has been called back ahead of the schedule too.”

“A pretty complicated extraction mission too,” Cedric noted. “From what I heard they were stuck deep within the giant’s territory with Maxime, but Charlie went to pick them up.”

“Good,” Harry said. “He wouldn’t have persuaded the giants anyways.”

“Ah, would Lupin have…?”

Harry shook his head.

“Or any of the others?”

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Right.” Cedric nodded, relieved. “I was a bit worried we might be changing too much by pulling people back in, but this… this is fine then.”

“Did you save them all?”

“Those I knew of from you, yeah,” Cedric confirmed. “And a few more from what I heard. Snape’s been requested to brew Nourishment Potions to keep Nagini sustained, so I am guessing she won’t be-”

“Ah.”

“He’s microdosing the basilisk venom into it too. Nothing too serious yet. Just to get her used to the taste, to not suspect anything when he does finally decide to poison her.”

“I see.”

“I didn’t tell him anything, don’t worry,” Cedric said quickly. “I just told him to keep her alive for now.”

“Why?”

Cedric pursed his lips. “Bill might need a live subject to test a few things on.”

“Rickie…”

“We’re doing this my way or no way, Haz,” Cedric said resolutely. “You'd be better off just accepting it as is, you know.”

Harry snorted, shaking his head.

“What?”

“Funny you’d say that,” Harry said, looking over at the mirror on the right and the mistletoe hanging placidly above it. “Cho said a similar thing a while ago.”

“Well-”

“I kissed her right there in the original timeline,”  Harry continued before Cedric could argue. He pointed to the corner. “Right about this time.”

“Err, you did?” Cedrid looked over, scrutinizing the mistletoe. “I’m guessing Marietta wasn't very thrilled about that, was she?”

“Marietta?”

“Yeah, they’re dating?”

“Oh.” Harry frowned. “Yeah, no, wait, I knew that. They weren’t dating in the original timeline though I don’t think? But knowing that, a lot more things actually make sense now…”

“Do they…?”

“Nothing to worry about anymore though, I guess.”

“Oh, okay,” Cedric said, leaning back. He gave Harry a cheeky grin then. “Sorry for cockblocking you then. In a way anyways.”

Harry returned it almost immediately. “Good riddance to that. I shouldn’t be kissing children anyways. I’m real old on the inside you know,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Children?” Cedric laughed. “What are you, hundred and twenty?”

“Might as well be.”

“Har-har.”

Harry laughed, but then got serious as he continued studying Cedric’s tired face. “You’re in your last year on top of all of this shit too,” he said, slightly surprised by the knowledge. 

“Yep, at the ripe age of eighteen,” Cedric joked. “A year behind almost everybody.”

“As if that would matter.”

“It does to some people.”

Harry gave him a look.

“Don’t,” Cedric warned. 

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You were about to comment on it,” Cedric said. “And I don’t really want to talk about it, so-”

“I graduated at eighteen too, so what?”

Cedric paused.

“Most of the Hogwarts students got held back due to the war,” Harry explained. “I wasn't even here for my seventh year and then… the battle happened so no N.E.W.T.s, no O.W.L.s.”

“There wasn’t a war with dark forces when I was a child,” Cedric noted. “They just didn’t grant me early access because I wasn’t fit enough for it.”

“They didn’t grant it to Hermione either and she was the brightest witch of her age according to some.”

“Try telling that to my dad,” Cedric said and then when he realized what he had said, pursed his lips turning away. “But that’s not really relevant right now.”

Harry watched him for a bit. “It is if-”

Cedric shook his head, waving his hand in his direction to gesture the end of that conversation. “Right, so… Nagini is sorta taken care of. We’ll either poison her with the basilisk venom or at least harm her enough to capture and bring her to Bill.”

Harry hummed.

“The cup is a work in progress,” Cedric continued. “We can’t exactly break into Gringotts and- what? ” He stopped when he saw the expression on Harry’s face.  

“You can’t?” he asked innocently.

Cedric rolled his eyes. “I don’t wanna hear it, Haz.”

“I rode a dragon busting out of there too,” Harry said slyly. “It’s a pretty impressive story.”

“I’m sure it is,” Cedric acknowledged, looking exasperated. “Be it as it may- I respect the goblins and the content of my vaults enough to not do that.”

“Oh yeah, they weren’t really happy with that even if it did help bring Riddle down,” Harry noted. 

“I can’t see why,” Cedric mocked. “They’re the last to care about any power struggles among wizards, you know.”

“Yeah, they do care when it causes you to rob a vault though.”

“You’d be mad to try and break into any-”

“What can I say, I’m a hazard.”

“Well, I’m not.”

Harry shrugged sheepishly. “Maybe better so. They did issue really high sanctions on my vaults after the war.”

“You’re a Potter,” Cedric snorted. “I don’t expect that would have made a huge dent in your pockets, would it?”

“Would have if all my fortune had been stored in Gringotts,” Harry noted.

“Ah, lucky,” Cedric said. 

Harry shrugged. “I gave a lot of it up. There were people who needed it more after the war. And I… was never really used to having that much anyways.”

Cedric nodded in understanding.

“So the cup?” Harry asked, picking up the conversation again.

“Bill is looking into it,” Cedric said. “He said he can gain access for a routine check-up anytime, but destroying something inside would be a big no-no. We will either see if we can extract the soul from it right there and then, so that we can leave the cup undamaged or find a loophole that would allow us to confiscate it. It’s an administrative mess I know nothing about, so I left it to Fleur and Bill to take care of.”

Harry sighed. “That leaves the ring then.”

“And you.”

“And me,” Harry agreed. “And then January…”

“January’s close yea,” Cedric confirmed and then sighed sliding down to lie on the soft floor. “Way too close.”

“What’s the plan for the Azkaban breakout?”

“There are multiple plans, Haz,” Cedric said tiredly. “And you don’t have enough time left for me to tell you about any of them.”

Harry nodded. “As long as one of them works.”

“It will have to,” Cedric said and they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Harry let his eyes wander around the room, over Cedric’s lying body, over his resting face, the skin painted with a thousand tiny golden reflections sent down by the twinkling baubles above them. 

“I can feel you watching me, you know,” Cedric noted, cracking an eye to catch him doing just that.

“Yes, well, I have a pretty good reason for that, don’t I?” Harry quoted, giving Cedric a smile.

“Do you?”

Ah.

“Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “You need to rest. There’s much-”

Cedric reached over, patting his knee. His eyes were closed once again. “Come get some rest with me then,” he said, the hand on Harry’s knee warm as it pulled at him.

Harry watched the gold dance over Cedric’s face. It was alluring. Like a curled up golden snake, its scales shifting-

“ Oh, shit ,” Harry exclaimed, getting up. 

“What?” Cedric pushed himself up, his eyes alert once again.

“It’s tonight! I almost forgot. Am I stupid? Nagini will-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence though. The hook in his navel jerked back, pulling him out. He tried to resist it, to say what he needed to say, to at least finish the sentence, to mention the Ministry, but he didn’t get to do any of it. The darkness swallowed him up, leaving Cedric behind without a single word of explanation.

Chapter 11

Notes:

The title of this fic and the whole vibe of it is heavily inspired by the song "I Beg to Differ (This Will Get Better)" by Billy Talent btw, give it a listen if you feel like it, it's beautiful. :)

Harry’s mind was a mess of old, almost forgotten memories, swirling new additions, panic, confusion, fear … and a dangerous foreign presence trying to invade these precious thoughts and feelings. In a flash of instinctive anger he expelled the invader out in a violent burst of magic. 

His head was throbbing, the dizziness pressing against his stomach surging its content up his tubes. He gagged, coughing up saliva, feeling too sick to move, but he had to, the sense of danger did not pass, which meant there must have been somebody near. Somebody that-

He fisted his wand, pressing it against the side of his head murmuring a quick enchantment as he swirled the wand in a spiraling fashion. His stomach settled a tad, but continued churning; the environment unblurred a bit, but it remained covered by a sheen. He was able to focus enough though to recognize the shadowy room lined with shelves full of glass jars- 

He raised his eyes, gripping his wand tighter-

“Potter,” Snape said, his voice careful as he surveyed him from a few meters away. His wand was raised up, pointing at him. 

Harry considered his options.

“Severus,” he sighed, tilting his head slowly. “Invigoration Draught.”

Snape gripped his wand tighter. “My Lord?” he whispered, barely a sound.

Harry inclined his head, not saying anything. They were looking into each other’s eyes, Snape could no doubt feel the strong Occlumency shields raised up around his mind, thrumming with the barely concealed ocean of magic. His core-

“How?” Snape whispered, lowering his wand a bit.

“The draught, Severus,” Harry prompted, watching him.

Snape nodded, bowing his head. Then hid his wand in his sleeve and walked slowly to one of the shelves on the right. He grabbed a glittering green vial, swirled it around in a practiced motion. The potion inside changed colors to a bright yellow, glowing faintly in the shadows. He walked over to Harry and offered it to him.

Harry took it, uncorked the top and swallowed the content in one long gulp. His insides calmed down, his headache disappeared, the dizziness gone in an instant.

He got up, pocketing his wand together with the empty vial and looked over at Snape. And what he saw was undoubtedly something akin to cautious fear. 

“I trust you to keep this to yourself,” he decided to say. Snape readily agreed, his nod tight and careful.

Harry turned around to leave, but -

Fuck.

There were suddenly strong wards surrounding them, blocking Harry from the door, their threat drumming loudly in their ears. 

“Who are you?” came from behind him, accompanied by a woosh of a wand being drawn. “You’re not Potter. And you’re obviously not the Dark Lord.”

Harry sighed, turning to face Snape. “What gave me away?”

“The Dark Lord would have never left the room without a crude display of power.”

“Punish you? For what? You didn’t-”

Snape squinted his eyes. “For simply existing in his vicinity.”

“Wow, pretentious much?”

“Who are you?” Snape asked again, his wand twitching. “I won’t ask again.”

Harry did not move. “Lower your wand,” he said. “I am Harry P-”

“The blundering idiot could not hold up an Occlumency shield this strong even in a thousand years-”

“Ah, make it ten,” Harry said, a grin spreading over his lips. “Always so quick to underestimate me, weren’t you, sir ?” He reached back to grasp at the tight knots of Snape’s wards, pulling at one very specific one to-

Snape did not hesitate. He sent a barrage of spells his way, but Harry just moved his hand, pulling Snape’s wards over himself like a blanket on a cold winter evening. The spells, each one more vicious than the next, ricocheted from Snape’s own wards, the containment charm in them powerful, familiar to their own essence. They flew back at Snape, who cast a quick shield. The shield was too small though, it only covered his own body, the shelves full of jars behind him remained unprotected and got smashed to pieces one by one.

Harry tsked, pulling at the wards. Now that he had them fully in his grasp, it was easier, as easy as commanding a whip. He yanked them forward, covering the shelves, protecting their precious content and the spells ricocheted again, aiming for Snape’s back.

Snape was quick. He turned and extended the shield to cover the whole room. Each time a spell hit it, the shield would absorb the magic back and feed it to Snape, until there was nothing left flying in the room, only the speckles of dust he stirred up.

Harry let go of the wards, letting them slide back to cover the surface of the walls surrounding them.

“I am Harry Potter,” he repeated, watching Snape. “Just not your Harry Potter. Not at this very moment.”

“A Harry Potter from ten years in the future?” Snape asked, glancing over at him. He caught up quickly.

“Yeah.”

Snape straightened up, his wand still held high. “Care to prove it?”

“I thought I just did,” Harry said, gesturing at the wards around them.

Snape gave him a look. “A crude display of power-”

“Crude?” Harry spluttered. He turned back to the wards, running his hand over the wall to gently undo each and every of the tight knots building it. They fell apart within seconds. “How's that for crude?”

“Doesn’t prove a single thing.”

“This will then,” Harry said. He waved his hand calling up his Patronus. The stag trotted up to him, nuzzling at his hand and then walked over to Snape, touching the tip of his wand. The magic emanating from the touch was so unmistakingly Harry’s own, saturated with his signature, kissed by his mother’s protective magic, so raw, so happy -

“I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours,” Harry said, watching him in amusement. 

Snape scrunched up his nose, but after a few moments pocketed his wand back inside his sleeves.

“I am guessing it’s you who’s feeding Cedric Diggory all that secret intel?” he asked.

Harry just smiled, beckoning his stag. “Find: Cedric Diggory. Tell him: Come to Snape’s office, Rickie.”

 

-

 

Cedric burst into the office mere minutes later, his breath ragged as if he just ran down a few flights of stairs. He did a quick scan of the room - checking on Harry who was sitting calmly in a chunky chair in front of  Snape’s mahogany table and then looked over at Snape, who was standing rigidly next to the fireplace, his arms folded tightly over his chest.

“Professor Snape.” He nodded his head, remaining cautious. 

“Come on in, Diggory,” Snape beckoned. “I'd reckon we have much to discuss.”

Cedric walked in. Snape closed up the room again and started setting up his wards again.

Harry gave the approaching Cedric a sheepish smile. “In my defense I did try to fool him, but apparently I’m just too nice.”

“Too nice?” 

“Potter here thought he could get away with pretending to be possessed by the Dark Lord himself,” Snape drawled, his wand moving fluidly around the room. “I have spent years in that man’s presence, there is no way-”

“I did a pretty good job at the start, but apparently the lack of frivolous torture was a big giveaway.”

“So, he knows…?”

“That I came back from the future and decided to grace you all with my wonderful knowledge on how to save the world? Yeah.”

“Is that how you decided to phrase it?”

Harry shrugged. “I can’t help it. My James genes-” he started saying, but the look on Cedric’s face made him pause. “What?”

Cedric walked in closer, leaning over the side of the chair, his hand pressed against the leather arm pad. “The Nagini thing,. I-”

Harry signed. “It’s fine, Rickie.”

“I wasn’t able to figure out what you meant before you disappeared,” Cedric said. “Mr. Weasley- I knew he would be fine, since he wasn’t on the list, but still-”

“It’s alright. It was my fault. I should have-”

“I did warn professor Snape that something’s gonna happen,” Cedric said, lifting his head up. “But since I didn’t have any specifics, we-”

“You did well,” Harry soothed, putting his hand over Cedric’s. “Mr. Weasley actually had a much quicker recovery compared to how horrible I remember it originally being.” He turned to Snape. “I’m guessing that was your doing, sir?”

Snape, who in the meantime stopped casting and returned back to his place near the fireplace, nodded, sneering. “If I have to feed that beast I might as well take something in return.”

“Keep that antidote close,” Harry instructed and then turned back to Cedric. “Azkaban?” he asked. “I don’t have any new memories of it at all this time around.”

“We managed to keep it standing strong. For now at least,” Cedric confirmed.

“How?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’re aware, but my dad is the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures now and dementors are magical creatures so I asked him to err- regulate them?”

“Oh, he didn’t quit this time around.” Harry paused. “Regulate them?”

Cedric turned to Snape, gesturing for him to-

“The Azkaban’s Island was originally an isolated Dementor’s nest, the only one in the whole world. The ministry discovered their presence back in the fourteenth century and decided to use their unique powers to enslave them to guard the prison they built there,” Snape explained. “They took their only food source and hid it in a chamber at the Department of Mysteries. The theory was that it would keep the dementors constantly at the verge of starving, too weak to cross the waters dividing them from us and at the same time forever tied to their prisoners, their survival literally depending on the souls trapped in Azkaban.”

“Wait,” Harry blinked. “Is that what the Veil thing was?”

“Do I even want to know how you know about the Veil?” Snape wondered idly. 

“The Veil,” Cedric spoke up, giving Harry a side eye. “It’s on your list.”

Harry nodded. “Yes. So what happened to it?”

“It was moved back to the island,” Snape said, watching them both carefully.

“So it’s not in the Department of Mysteries anymore?” 

“No, as far as I know the Death Chamber remains empty for now,” Snape said, squinting.

“So Dementors are no longer starving and don’t feel the need to join the Dark Lord on the rampage through the country?” Harry summarized.

“Pretty much,” Cedric confirmed. “Turns out giving them their source back was enough to keep them from ever wanting to leave the island again. Guarding the prisoners is a… something to occupy their time now only.”

“That’s good… what about the Dark Lord himself though?”

“Professor Snape informed the Order of the planned outbreak and they reached out to their connections in the Ministry to make Azkaban entirely Unplottable for now,” Cedric explained. “A variant of the Fidelius placed on the whole island?”

Snape nodded.

“That’s-”

A commotion from above interrupted their conversation - the wards set in the room did not let their words escape, but the shouts from outside could reach them easily - a fierce woman’s shriek rang through their conversation. 

“What…?” Cedric started asking.

“It’s alright. I think that’s just Trelawney being fired by Umbridge,” Harry explained. “It will be fine. Dumbledore will step in and-”

“Dumbledore,” Snape spoke up. “Why is he not involved in this little scheme of yours, Potter ?”

Harry pursed his lips, silence falling over the room. Silence occasionally interrupted by distant shouts coming from outside.

Snape sneered. “Saint Potter, keeping secrets from Dumbledore? What, is he too-”

“Ahh, well,” Harry started, unsure.

Cedric’s hand sneaked to the back of his neck, comforting warmth spreading over Harry’s suddenly chill skin.

“Dumbledore has a similar goal to ours, that much is true,” Cedric said. “But if it were up to him, all of us would march up to our death and we’d do it with radiant smiles on our faces.” He squeezed the back of Harry’s neck as he leaned in forward. “And I don’t know about you, sir, but I am not one to accept that as the only solution here.”

Snape watched them. “I was prepared to die for the cause. As long as it would bring him down, I would have happily-'' He paused, the end of the sentence catching up to him. “All of us?”

Harry sighed, leaning back in the chair. “Might as well tell him.”

“You sure?” Cedric asked.

“Dumbledore might not have been,” Harry said, his eyes glued to Snape. “But I am.”

Snape gave him a weird look, but did not contradict his statement. 

“The Dark Lord has seven horcruxes tethering him to the realm of the living,” Harry said without any preamble whatsoever. 

“Horc- seven of them? What kind of madness-”

“It’s eight soul pieces if we count the main one currently stored in his actual body,” Cedric added quickly.

“He won’t be able to die unless all of them are destroyed,” Harry said and then leaned forward, tapping his scar. “All of them.”

Snape took a shocked step back. “You’re-”

Harry nodded. “There is a piece of his soul stored inside of me. He made me into one of his horcruxes that night when he came to Godric’s Hollow. Marked me as his equal, as the prophecy said he would. There is a reason-”

“But how can this be?” Snape looked horrified. “You’re alive . You’re obviously alive in the future, otherwise how would you travel back here…?” He gestured at him wildly. “Are you a ghost? Possessing your younger self?”

“Err, not that I know of,” Harry said. “I did die though. For a bit that is. And then-”

Snape shook his head. “All this… is this what I was protecting you for ? So you can die just a couple of years later?”

“I was fine. Turns out the Killing curse only destroyed the horcrux within me. I was… protected.”

“Protected?” 

Harry gave him a sad smile. “I was protected from it the same way I was the first time he tried to kill me, by my mother’s magic. That’s why they kept sending me back to the Dursleys-”

“Dursleys?” Snape frowned.

“Yes, to her sister Petunia.”

“You-”

“I had to stay within the blood protection to reinforce the magic mom put on me as a baby, so that I would be protected when the time came. That is how I will survive. For the most part.”

“But-”

“Doesn’t mean it has to be done the same way this time around,” Cedric spoke up sternly. “We already managed to change a bunch of things. We can change this too.”

“And what makes you think your plan is any better than that of Dumbledore?” Snape barked. “What makes you think you are any better?”

“I’m not,” Cedric said simply. “But like Harry told me once: How can that be a bad thing? People not dying. Not suffering.”

“I didn’t say anything about suffering,” Harry noted. 

Cedric gave him a stern look. 

“If you think this naive scheme of yours will work-” Snape started to say. 

“It’s already working though, isn’t it?” Cedric said. “I am the living proof of that. I would have died at the Triwizard tournament if Harry didn't confront me about it. And so would many more people. The names I keep giving you-”

Snape snorted. “If you think that has stopped the Dark Lord and his servants to brutally murder other innocent-”

“We’ll stop that too,” Harry said resolutely. “Soon enough.”

“By getting rid of his horcruxes?”

“Exactly.”

“You’re more of a fool than what I thought you would be if you think you even stand a chance against the Dark Lord,” Snape hissed. “Do you think he’d just leave such precious artifacts lying around to be found by the likes of yo-”

“Yes.”

Snape shook his head.

Harry turned to Cedric. “What’s the status on the horcruxes, remind me?”

“Well, the diary is destroyed, you said?”

Harry nodded.

“The cup, the diadem and the locket are now in our possession,” Cedric said.

“Bill managed to get the cup then?”

Cedric gave Snape the briefest of side-eyes, then nodded and continued: “The snake is a work in progress, but we have an open channel right into her nest, which leaves… you and the ring.”

“Ring?” Snape asked.

“It should be stored in Gaunt’s old shack in Little Hangleton,” Harry said. “I expect you to be familiar with that place?”

Snape nodded slowly, something akin to hope shining gently within his dark eyes. “Indeed I am.” It only took him a heartbeat to make a decision. “I might be of service then. With the ring.” He turned to Cedric. “With the snake.”

“Then I will ask Bill Weasley to coordinate with you,” Cedric said. “We are only collecting them for now, not destroying them, you understand?”

“You’re hoping Bill Weasley will give you the answer you seek if you give them to him?” Snape asked. “As skilled as he might renowned to be, horcruxes are-“

“A magical object like any other,” Cedric insisted. “We might as well try.”

“If worst comes to worst, we’ll just do it my way,” Harry noted idly. “It worked before. It will work again.”

Cedric gripped the back of his neck, but said nothing. 

“How utterly Gryffindor of you.” Snape sneered.

“I’d rather think it’s in my blood,” Harry remarked tiredly, “than in my house. I was almost sorted into Slytherin after all. Weren’t it for-”

“So why weren’t you?” Snape snorted. “Was the noble house of Slytherin too-”

“I’m pretty sure that was Dumbledore’s doing. Can you imagine The Boy Who Lived ending up in Slytherin?” Cedric said.

Harry laughed. “Ha, imagine what a thorn in your side I’d have been.”

“More than you already are?”

Harry gave him a lopsided grin. He then turned to Cedric again. “Right, that’s most of the previous agenda out of the way. Before I leave again though, we have to discuss June.”

Cedric let go of him, folding his arms over his chest instead. “Right.”

“The Dark Lord will attack the Ministry.”

Cedric paused. “Will he though? We stopped the Azkaban outbreak. Many of those-”

“I don’t think that will stop him,” Harry said. “It’s ten of his most loyal followers, that much is true, but he has more, many more.”

They both turned over to Snape.

“If there is something the Dark Lord wants, the slightly reduced number of followers won’t stop him,” he confirmed.

“So, what do we have to do to stop him from taking over the Ministry?”

Harry shook his head. “He won’t succeed, not yet. Dumbledore will be there to stop him, but people will die.”

“I know.”

“We need to make sure that doesn’t happen, but remember, everything else must be the same,” He turned to Snape. “When the time comes and the Dark Lord places the fake vision in my mind-”

“Potter, you may be hopeless at Occlumency, but by June I would have-”

“Then don’t.”

Snape frowned. “Dumbledore insisted I do what I can to sever this connection between you and the Dark Lord. Are you asking me to go against his wishes?”

“You will have to. A lot sooner than you did in the original timeline,” Harry emphasized. “I am getting too good what with Cedric helping me as well.”

“I didn’t know helping you with Occlumency was a bad thing,” Cedric protested.

“It’s not bad per se,” Harry allowed. “But my mind must remain open to the Dark Lord until June. He needs to be able to lure me to the Ministry to-”

“Wait, why do we need to let you go to the Ministry?” Cedric wondered. “Why not just skip that one altogether? Does it affect anything other than traumatizing the younger you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Cedric turned to Snape, raising an eyebrow at him as if to ask for support, literally any kind of support.

Snape didn't give it to him. “If you end up changing too much then none of Potter’s memories will be of any use to us.”

“Okay, well, what good comes off you going there though?”

“He won’t get the prophecy.”

“He already knows what the prophecy says, doesn’t he? Isn’t that why he attacked you as a baby?”

Harry shared a quick look with Snape. “Not the whole thing I don’t think.”

“Does it make any difference whatsoever?” Cedric wondered. “Is there anything ground-breaking in the rest of the prophecy?”

“Err.” Harry looked over at Snape again, unsure. “How much of it did you relay…?”

“You know…?” Snape breathed.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “Not how much of it you told him though I don’t think?”

“Oh,” was all Cedric said to that.

Snape remained silent, his face ashen. 

Harry sighed. “Look, I know a thing or two about people dying because of me. Let’s just skip the blaming and move on… how much does he know?”

Snape took a deep breath. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..." he quoted, his voice weak.

“...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.” Harry added, turning back to Cedric. “See?”

“See what? That won’t tell him a thing. It literally just says you will have some power the Dark Lord does not know about,” Cedric reasoned. “It doesn’t tell him what that power is.”

“Power…?”

“Love, apparently,” Harry told Snape.

“And that’s… what defeats him?” Snape asked slowly as if not understanding. “Love?”

“Well, Dumbledore would say love, some would say blood magic.” Harry shrugged. “That’s what will keep me alive long enough to kill him, yes.”

“I see,” Snape repeated faintly.

“It will be fine.”

“Yes, because you won’t be going to the Ministry,” Cedric said sternly.

“Rickie-”

“Let him have the prophecy. It says nothing important.”

“I can’t let him have the Ministry though,” Harry reasoned. “Not yet. Maybe not ever?”

“What? You single-handedly stopped the Dark Lord from conquering the Ministry in June? Didn’t you say-”

“Well, we did stall him until the Order could come.”

“Well then, the Order will be ready in time for it.” Cedric turned to Snape. “Won’t it?”

“It wasn’t last time though,” Harry noted before Snape could answer.

“Why not?”

“Err, I’m not sure… I never really found out.”

“Were you too proud to come let me know you had an obscure vision luring you to come to the Ministry?” Snape guessed. “How do you even-”

“I actually did try, but Umbridge went bonkers and-”

“Well, that’s fine, because you have me this time,” Cedric said. “I’m quite confident you’d come to me, won’t you? To contact the Order? To check? If needed?”

“I most likely will,” Harry allowed. “But Rickie, you must let me go.”

“I didn’t hear a single good reason-”

“Because if I go, if everything goes the way I remember it, then we keep the advantage of knowing what’s gonna happen,” Harry said. “If I won’t go then the list you have is useless and we won’t know who will live and who will die. You must let me go, both of you,” he insisted. “You must stall the Order and-”

Cedric pursed his lips. “That doesn't make any sense.”

“Regarding the people who will die,” Snape spoke up. “I am guessing you mean Ministry workers? Order members? Death Eaters? Or are those not on the list?”

“Some are,” Harry allowed. “It happened after midnight, so most of the Ministry was empty at that time. Those who were on shift, Cedric has their names. It’s mostly people who stood in their way to the Department of Mysteries really and then some independent incidents outside of the Ministry. ”

“Then we clear out the path,” Snape said. “And keep an eye on the rest of them.”

“Yes, well yes, that one is easy I guess, but how do we protect the Order members?”

“How many?” Snape asked.

Harry pursed his lips. “Enough. Might be more if the Order comes in sooner this time.”

“How many, Potter? You said Dumbledore comes to stop the Dark Lord. Is he the one that will perish at the Ministry? Is he the one you are so desperately trying to-”

“It’s Sirius,” Harry said. “It was just Sirius in my old timeline. From the Order that is.”

Snape watched him.

“We’re not letting him die.” The tone of his voice did not invite any additional discussion.

“Is that going to happen though?” Cedric questioned. “Your list said he was murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange. She is still in Azkaban.”

“Others might take her place.”

“Alright, well why don't we just close off the Ministry?” Cedric wondered. “My dad says there is-”

“There is a procedure, indeed. But I am unsure if any of the Order could get it approved,” Snape argued. “We might have ties within the Ministry and they might run deep, but a strength of numbers is not on our side and we’d need that for the Wizengamot to approve a lock-in like that.”

“Well, maybe-”

“You keep forgetting they don’t believe there is any danger out there whatsoever,” Snape kept arguing. “They only approved the Azkaban lock-in because they believed Black could return and help the rest of them escape. They’re not going to-”

“Besides, I don’t know how exactly he got in before. It might not work. I’m telling you-” Harry started, but Cedric was apparently not done.

“Then we think of a different option,” he argued. “There is still time.”

“Not that much,” Harry said.

Cedric turned back to him. “Are you going soon?”

Harry looked up at the clock hanging over the fireplace. “I guess so.” He got up off the chair. “You better go before my younger version comes back.”

Cedric glanced over at Snape, but did not argue for once. “You’ll be back before June, don’t worry,” he tried, but Harry did not find it reassuring. 

“I’ll try,” he promised nonetheless. “You know I can’t control this shit. But it’s fine. It will be fine as long as you know what to do.”

“Ten points from Gryffindor,” was Snape’s immediate reaction.

“What? Why?”

“Language.”

Harry paused. “Wait, I’m not even in Gryffindor anymore. I don’t care if you take-”

“Ten more off.”

“Aw, what for?”

“Just to prove a point.” Snape sneered.

Cedric rolled his eyes, but stepped back from the chair to head out of the room.

“Wait,” Harry called once he reached the door. “Er-” He turned to Snape. “Would you mind giving him a few of your Invigoration Draughts?”

“What for?” Cedric asked.

“The charm doesn’t work much anymore,” Harry admitted.

“Are you getting sicker and sicker after each jump?”

“Probably just getting used to the charm.”

“Harry sure isn’t and that’s his body.”

“It’s my mind though.”

Cedric turned expectantly to Snape.

“Anything else you’d like to demand?” Snape drawled, waving his hand in the direction of his shelves. “Feel free to look around. Only the finest for our Savior.” He grabbed at least four vials to hand over to Cedric.

“Thanks,” Cedric said, pocketing them. “I’m sure I’ll find something to make it up to you. Ingredients again maybe?”

Snape gave one stern nod and with that Cedric was gone again, the wards snapping back to place behind him.

“Right,” Harry hummed and sat down somewhere around the area he had originally woken up in. “Remember, you must throw me out. End the sessions.”

“And what would my reasoning behind such an act be?”

“You don’t need one.”

“Oh, I assure you I do, Potter.”

“You should do it before I see something you don’t want me to see,” Harry said, giving him a meaningful look. “I always did argue that my father was in fact a good person, but… I now know that wasn't entirely true, not for a long time.”

Snape did not comment on it.

“I’m not going to apologize for the shit he did to you,” Harry said. “But if you don’t want young Harry knowing you better throw him the fuck out of the session right after he comes back to.”

“Ten points off, Potter,” Snape said automatically, but Harry was too tired to care.

“Ask me about the door before you do that though,” he said. “I’ve been dreaming about it since summer at this point-”

“The door?”

“The door to the Department of Mysteries,” Harry clarified. “The one that leads to the prophecy.”

Snape frowned.

“Ask about it,” Harry said. “Amp up his curiosity. It will be easier to get him to go to the Ministry then.”

Snape did not answer, but he didn’t have to.

“So-”

“Oh, one more thing,” Harry said, feeling the tug under his stomach. “Don’t put the ring on.”

“Why would I-” was all that he got to hear before the hook in his navel whisked him away again.

Chapter 12

Harry woke up in a bed too sick to register any of the fluffy red pillows or the thin summer blankets with golden lining - his head spun so hard it took him a couple of long minutes to be able to do anything other than to blink numbly. It spun and spun, making his eyes dance around frantically, his mouth filling up with acidic saliva, his stomach aching. Closing his eyes made it all the worse. Moving any part of his body was a struggle, but in the end he did manage to lift his hand and press it against the side of his head. 

Two or three aborted exhales later, he forced his magic to comply and sent it through his skull in a spiraling fashion. One time did nothing to relieve it. Two times eased it up enough for him to at least start breathing normally. But in turn the nerves at the end of his fingers started to tingle unpleasantly. Pain was better than dizziness though, Harry decided, as he forced another pulse of magic through - the dizziness stepped back, only to be replaced by a searing pain at the side of his head - thousands of hot needles pierced the nerves around his temple, embroidering flowers over the side of his jaw, down to his neck. It was fine though, he could ignore the pain. He could. There were more important things…

Harry waved his hand, casting a wordless Tempus charm.

“Should have done that right at the-”

His face was instantly bathed by the glow of a familiar combination of numbers.

Harry frowned, confused.

One after another, the memories swam to the surface of his mind - Cedric’s continued mentoring in the detail of Legilimency until he could sort-of grasp the basics of it, Snape’s relentless pestering until he actually stopped having the dreams. He never did find the Pensieve, where Snape stored his most precious memories, he never… the History of Magic exam went as planned with him completing the test with the rest of the students, tired and weary after the O.W.L.s, celebrating with the rest of his house, utterly clueless to the plan coming into fruition in Riddle’s mind.

The prophecy-

The Order-

Sirius-

He closed his eyes and opened up his Occlumency shields, inviting in the thing that was trying to pry its way through the tightly packed bricks of the thick wall within his mind. He watched the vision play out, watched it sink its claws in deep, Sirius’ voice so real, his screams even more so… Riddle would know he had succeeded, he would have known Harry was on the way.

The pain in his neck flared up horribly when he pushed himself off the bed. It didn’t get much better when he was standing on the carpet in the Gryffindor dorms filled with snoring teens either. He changed his clothes with a quick wave of his hand, stuck his wand into his right sock and grabbed the Firebolt from his trunk. With quick silent steps, he walked to the nearest window, opened it and jumped out, flying in the direction of the nearest Hogwarts border, which would lead him over a thin part of the lake, the Whooping Willow and then right over the-

Not even a minute later, a flyer appeared at his side, his cheeks red from the whipping winds, hair mussled, clothes in disarray. 

“You’re not stopping me,” Harry told him sternly. The pain in his jaw flared up some as he turned his head to look at him, the wind bursting into his ear. He gripped the broom tighter, but that only made it worse. 

“I would very much like to stop you though,” Cedric said.

“How did you even know I-?”

“Just a precaution.”

“But like… using my broom? I could have-”

“Well, you can’t apparate directly from Hogwarts, the fireplaces are mostly blocked off, any secret tunnels would take ages to get through and well… you’ve always had an inclination towards brooms, haven't you?” Cedric explained easily. “Also, it was the only way to keep an eye on you while you slept. I was worried you’d-”

Harry shook his head, directing his broom to fly high to avoid the Whomping Willow. The sudden movement caused the inflamed nerves in his neck to seize up. He stifled a groan and flew on. 

“- you’d do exactly this… Haz!” Cedric called out, reaching out to grab the handle of his broom.

Harry pulled his broom back, causing his hand to miss it by a few odd centimeters.

“Come on, Haz,” Cedric said, rounding up on him.

“Get out of the way,” Harry ordered, jerking his broom up to fly over him. Cedric let him and when he was right above him, he reached out, latching himself to the bristles. Harry came to a halt as Cedric kicked his Cleansweep into reverse and started to pull back.

“Would you just-”

“Let go,” Harry hissed, leaning forward. The pain in the side of his face, his neck, his shoulder was agonizing. His Firebolt creaked, pulling them both lower. 

“Haz-”

“Let go, Cedric .”

But Cedric had gloves on and his hold was tight. The Whomping Willow sensed their nearby presence and started to sleepily reach out towards them. Something had to be done or else-

Harry kicked his Firebolt into reverse, disturbing Cedric’s balance. Cedric let go of him and Harry blasted forward.

“Haz!” Cedric yelled, doing his best to catch up, but Harry had a pretty good head start and the Cleansweep was just a lot slower in a straight line than the Firebolt. Harry amped it up, knowing Cedric won’t be able to catch up, not before he had reached the border, not before he could apparate away to the Ministry. And once he would, there would be no-

There was a quick loud snap from behind him - a thin invisible rope tightened around his body, bringing him to a jerking halt. Harry whipped his head around, starting over at Cedric’s dark form, holding out a lasso charm, pulling him back to the Whomping Willow, away from-

Harry was in too much pain for anything more than simple movements - he grabbed the rope, reaching out inside it with tiny pinpricks of magic, cutting each of the woven threads, slashing neatly through. 

Cedric jerked back, his Cleansweed reeling up like a startled horse. He made the mistake of not letting go of his lasso charm, so Harry grabbed the loosened end of it and whipped it around in a big sweeping motion. With that he guided the rope to twist itself all the way around Cedric. Harry gripped the free end, infecting it with his own magic, making it his own so it couldn't be broken and then jerked it in, pulling him closer. Cedric yelped, too surprised to resist, his Cleansweep not helping to slow the motion at all.

Harry grabbed him by the collar when he was close enough, shaking him. “Are you done? Are you fucking done now?” he asked, not sure why he was wasting time on this conversation. The side of his body was burning. Burning so much he could barely stand it. And there wasn’t time to-

“No,” Cedric said defiantly; the rope tight, broom stuck in an impasse. He couldn’t move away from Harry’s face even if he had wanted to. He did try though, using his tights to lean back, tilting his broom up to slide away. Harry grabbed his broom handle with his other hand even as his shoulder screamed in pain. They were now entirely entwined.

“You think you can stop me?” Harry growled. “Me?” His magic churned, bubbling up to the surface of the underage lock.

“I have to try,” Cedric gasped, his breath heavy as he leaned away from the searing warmth of it. “You can’t-”

“ I can’t… ?” Harry hissed, pulling him in again. “You think you can fucking tell me what to do? You think you know better than me ? I have lived this fucking life , I have lived through every damn moment. I watched you die! I watched Sirius die! I watched Dumbledore fall out of that fucking tower. I let them all die and now that I can save them, you dare to stand in my fucking way? How the fuck dare you!” Harry gripped him tighter lest he’d slip away. “What gives you the fucking right?!”

Cedric jerked back. "Haz," he yelped.

"There is nothing -"

"Haz!"

And just like that Cedric was torn away from him, the Whomping Willow dragging him down, his bound body unable to resist the movement. Harry swore, letting his already bubbling magic burst through the funnel, reach over-

His own broom jerked to the side before his spell could connect though. The sudden change in direction made him lose his footing - his hands were already off the broom handle, it didn’t take much. He fell off to the side and was left hanging by his thighs, pulled along like a ragdoll, his body on fire.

That was when Cedric yelled and hit the ground.

Harry took one ragged breath, his mouth opened in a silent scream, his eyes bulging… his magic shrieked, it shrieked instead of him. The Whomping Willow stilled, its bark cracking all over. A weird silent whistling sound accompanying the cacophony of cracks rose up into the night. It let go of Harry. He pulled himself up again and sped over to Cedric's unmoving body.

He stumbled down to his knees, the speed in which he hit the ground so high that his knees burrowed into the ground. He stumbled and then face planted right next to Cedric's body. It hurt horribly, but not as much as it should have. He should have broken something. Instead the ground swallowed his weight, rising around him like an inflated balloon. He gasped, searching for any type of purchase but all around it was just one huge thick pillow, fluffy and soft, swallowing him up deeper and deeper until he reached the only solid thing around - Cedric's shoulder.

"What the-"

And then he felt it - Cedric's magic washing over him, over the ground, inflating it into a giant fluffy pillow. 

"Fucking hell," Harry swore, gripping Cedric even tighter.

"Ouch, Haz, let go," Cedric groaned, trying to pull away, but still too tied up to make any progress all by himself. His face was buried so deep into the soft ground it muffled his voice. 

Harry crawled over, turning him around. "Fucking hell," he repeated, pulling at the ropes. His relief made the pain as he pulled at them secondary. "You-"

"I'm fine," Cedric said, grinning up at him.

"This is not funny," Harry grumbled, freeing him. Cedric started to push himself up, smiling loopily, but Harry didn’t share his sentiment. Instead of helping him, he pressed him back down, glaring at him. "Are you happy now? You fucking happy?" His magic mingled with Cedric’s, solidifying the ground where Cedric’s calm one made it softer. “You stopped me. Are you happy now?

“Yeah,”Cedric answered breathlessly.

“You fucking idiot -”

“Haz-”

“I could have been there helping them, instead I am here wasting my fucking time and for what? For what , tell me!”

“For your own sanity,” Cedric answered.

Harry growled, leaning over him with all his weight. His magic pushed Cedric’s own back inside his body, holding it tightly contained within his core. It hurt him to do this, but he didn’t care, he didn’t fucking care…

“Haz, calm down,” Cedric whispered. “It’s fine.”

“None of this is fine ,” Harry bit out, shaking. His magic was so close to bursting, the small funnel not enough, the lock around his core was cracking all over similar to the bark on the Whomping Willow just a few minutes ago. The pain was so bad. He thought he could get over it, but it-

Soon, it would- 

Soon, he will-

Soon, they might all be-

“Sirius could be dying right now. Or Remus. Or Nymphadora. Or anybody else.” He fisted the fabric on Cedric’s shirt, his knuckles white. “You promised to help me and then you pull this sort of shit on me? You fucking asshole, I can’t believe I-”

Cedric gave him a sad smile, reaching over to soothe his shaking hands by covering them with his own. “I am helping.”

“Fuck you!” Harry spat, leaning in closer, so close he could almost see the moonlight reflecting in Cedric’s oh-so gray eyes. “I am not the one who needs help, why can’t you understand?” It hurt. “ Why don’t you- why? I am fine!” he cried out. It hurt so much . “ I am fine, you hear me?”

Cedric let go of him, sneaking his hands up around Harry to bring him closer and Harry went with it, stifling the wrecking sobs that were sending tremors up and down his body. He leaned his forehead against Cedric’s shoulder, wheezing. “I’m fine,” he repeated weakly.

“You will be, Haz,” Cedric soothed. “You will be fine this time around. Everything will be fine, I promise.” He held him close, their hearts beating wildly against each other as they lay there on the solid, tough ground, Harry’s magic crackeed around them, pressing painfully against the lock in his chest. It hurt, it hurt so badly Harry could barely manage a breath in-

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t matter, Rickie. Not if they-”

“You do ,” Cedric argued softly, pressing his hand against the back of his neck, holding him there, breathing with him. “You matter. You matter to me. To them. We will all help. We will all be there for you. You won’t be doing this alone, you won’t, not this time around, you hear me? We will all-”

“-die. You’re all going to die,” Harry sobbed, his thoughts all over the place. “You’re all- you’re all dead. I’m never getting any of you back. Nothing… I tried- I tried looking for the stone again, but I lost it, I left it there in the forest, I thought… there was- when Dumbledore offered, what was I-? I had to return, I had to… he said it was my choice, my choice if I want to return, what a fucking joke . Stay, I wanted to stay, there is nothing back here, nothing… I thought… but the stone was gone. I tried, but even if I did find it, it wouldn’t… just ghosts, just echoes, not really there, all dead. Dead.” He wasn’t even sure what he was saying anymore, mixing up things from different timelines into one long stream of consciousness. 

“We’re fine, Haz,” Cedric whispered, stroking up into his hair. “We’re alive, we’re right here, I’m right here.” He squeezed him tightly.

It hurt.

It soothed .

It didn’t matter.

It mattered more than anything else.

“I’m here.”

Harry pressed his forehead deeper into his shoulder, breathing raggedly. “This isn’t real,” he wheezed out. “This isn’t real, you'll be gone by the time I get out of the Pensieve, you always are, there is no-”

“It’s real, it’s real,” Cedric soothed. “I’m real. I’m alive, I’m-”

“Don’t die, Rickie.”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t die. If you die… if anybody dies, I-”

“I won’t.”

“You can’t,” Harry insisted. “None of you can.”

“I won’t, Haz,” Cedric repeated. “I won’t. Nobody will die. Not now, not ever.”

Harry took a stuttering breath in, and then exhaled a laugh. “You fucking idiot, you can’t promise me that.”

“I just did though.” Cedric let go of him, reaching back into his robes to pull out two small objects. They clicked against each other as he pressed them against Harry’s hand. “See for yourself.”

Harry leaned back, recognizing the golden vial full of an activated Invigoration Draught and the Two-way Mirror. He took the vial, gulping it down in one quick sip. The pain lessened and so did the hold anxiety had over his heart - he sighed, leaned back into the grass, concentrated on getting his core under control - the magic spasmed defiantly, wishing to roam free, to spill all over, to thrive, but in the end it heeded his call and settled back inside, the cracks solidifying within an instant.

“Better?” Cedric asked, sitting up himself.

“Kinda,” Harry said, his mind still reeling. “Got any more? I kinda fucked up with three or four healing spells earlier today.”

Cedric gave him a look.

Harry just shrugged, the movement pulling at his muscles uncomfortably, causing his teeth to ache.

“I don’t think you should overdose-”

“Harry’s body, remember? He’ll sweat it out before I am back again.”

Cedric fished out a second vial. Harry gulped it down eagerly. “Fucking hell,” he breathed out and then exchanged the empty vials in his hands for the mirror.

“I gave this to you,” Harry remembered.

“I borrowed it a few days ago, yeah,” Cedric said. “There was a lot to plan for the Ministry thing.”

“Ah… yeah.”

“I was a bit worried that you might have the vision despite all the training you did,” Cedric explained. “If you didn't have the mirror, maybe you wouldn’t have been able to confirm with Sirius and then you’d just rush out anyways, so I decided to keep an eye on you, have the mirror with me just in case...”

“I didn’t remember this thing the first time around, you know,” Harry admitted, turning the mirror around, hesitating.

“Aren’t you gonna call him?” Cedric wondered after a few fruitless seconds.

Harry just hummed, watching the back of the mirror. “I’ve never used it with Sirius, not in my original timeline,” he admitted slowly, fingering the sharp edge of it softly. “I tried after… after he died. I thought maybe his ghost or… something would appear at the end of it, but it never did.”

“He’ll be there when you call him,” Cedric said reassuringly. “I promise.”

“What if he won’t though?” Harry wondered. He looked up at the motionless Whomping Willow-

“What did you do to it anyways?” Cedric wondered, following his line of sight. “Did you freeze it in place?”

“Err, no, to really freeze it for this long, it would have to come from the roots and those are way too deep in. There is a button connected to the roots at the base-” Harry shook his head. “Unimportant. I just… made its bark less flexible and it chose to avoid death by not moving until it could grow it back together.”

“Why would it…?”

“Wow, Professor Sprout must be rolling around in her grave. A Hufflepuff-”

“Joke’s on you. She’s still alive.”

 Harry snorted. “In her bed then.”

Cedric gave him a sheepish shrug. “Well…?”

“With the trunk completely girdled, the tree has no way to get sugars from the leaves down to the roots or moisture from the roots up to the leaves,” Harry explained. “If it continued moving, the bark would have turned into a million pieces and eventually fallen off and the whole tree would have eventually died.”

“That’s rather drastic, isn’t it?” Cedric wondered.

“It got a choice,” Harry reasoned. “That’s rather generous I’d say.”

“I guess so.”

Harry looked down at the mirror again, pursing his lips. 

“Call him,” Cedric said, poking his knee. “Call him, Haz.”

“Did he even take it with him this time around?”

“Of course he did. Why do you think I asked to borrow it? We made all the needed precautions. He’s alright, I promise.”

Harry hummed, turning the mirror back up, looking into it, his own dark silhouette staring up at him.

Cedric stood up, patting his shoulder once, twice and then walked off to the side. Not a moment later a house elf with a Hogwarts uniform appeared at his side and they started to talk in hushed voices. Harry could not hear what they were talking about. Somehow he didn’t really care anyways.

He looked back down at the mirror and finally spoke up: “Sirius Black.”

One tense moment later, a face appeared in the mirror.

“Hi, kiddo,” Sirius greeted, grinning up at him. The warm firelight from his side of the mirror hit Harry’s face. 

Harry swallowed dryly.

“You good?” Sirius wondered, studying him. “Out with Cedric?” He asked, an easy grin spreading over his lips.

“I’m fine,” Harry said quickly. “How er- I was worried.”

“Worried enough to finally use the damn mirror?” Sirius said. “Voldemort should have tried to use me as bait a lot sooner, the fucking asshole.”

“In his defense, he did try,” Harry said.

“Tried but didn’t succeed,” Sirius laughed. “You’re a lot smarter than that after all.”

“Err, yeah. For the most part.”

“Cedric had to keep you in, didn’t he?”

“Err, kinda.”

“You’re so much like James. He would have wanted to be in the middle of all of this too.”

Harry sobered up at that. “So, how did it go?” He asked before Sirius could comment on it.

“Surprisingly well. I hate to say it, but Snape’s been very helpful in the last couple of months. The intel he brings in is really something.”

“What is this I hear?” came from behind Sirius. Remus’ face appeared at the edge of the mirror. “Hi, Harry.”

“Hi.”

“Praising Severus?” Remus turned to Sirius, his tone teasing. “Are you sure you’re Padfoot and not just some Death Eater under Polyjuice?”

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “If I were then I definitely wouldn’t have-”

“Alright, alright,” Remus stopped him quickly, pushing at his shoulder.

Harry calmed down, watching the soft smiles they were both giving each other. He looked up, looking for Cedric in the Willow’s shadow. He was standing where Harry left him, now without the elf, loitering around.

“So yeah,” Sirius said, picking up the conversation when Remus disappeared from the view again. “The evacuation drill organized by Kingsley worked like a charm, the path was cleared out before the first Death Eaters even arrived, no Ministry casualties.”

Harry nodded.

“I still can’t believe the Void objects from Xenofilius worked the way they did. Did Cedric mention them to you?” Sirius shook his head. “It’s crazy. Fucking stumbled upon the magic in their forest I heard. Wish I had void magic in my forest, instead of-”

“Not a word more!” Lupin yelled from somewhere behind the mirror.

“We lined the Hall of Prophecy with them,” Sirius added. “The Death Eaters didn’t even realize they can’t do any magic until they tried to use it on us, ha! I punched the hell out of Malfoy’s face.” He grinned widely.

Harry snorted.

“We even… Moony, come here!” Sirius called, leaning out of the shot. “Where the hell- anyways, we asked Xenofilius to teach us the charm for the Void objects. Moony wants to see what it would do on a full moon, if we line the clearing with them, we were wondering if-”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” Harry muttered.

“Yeah, can you imagine if it would-”

“So you caught all the Death Eaters or…?” Harry asked quickly to stay on the topic. He was slowly running out of time and he needed to know how it went. 

“Well, some of them pretty much surrendered when they found out they couldn’t use magic on us,” Sirius said. “Fucking purebloods, can’t even-”

“Some escaped?”

“Malfoy and his bunch,” Sirius admitted bitterly.

“What about Voldermort?”

“We had Snape deliver the prophecy to him after we took care of all the Death Eaters. He had to make sure he remained in his good graces, I guess? There apparently wasn’t anything important in that prophecy anyways, can you imagine? So he never even showed up at the Ministry,” Sirius explained.

“Ah, I was hoping we could clear your name by having some Ministry workers or maybe even the Minister of Magic himself see him in person and then-”

“Ah, well, good news then,” Sirius said. “We caught Wormtail. He was there at the Ministry, could you imagine? Moony made sure he was going nowhere this time around.”

“Ah, so…”

“Oh yeah, I’m sure my name will be cleared in no time.”

“Ah, so…?”

“Oh yeah, I will finally be able to fulfill that promise I gave you,” Sirius said. “Dumbledore said you’ll have to show up at your uncle’s place for a bit still due to some magic thing or another, but I am sure as soon as-”

“That’s- wait, how did Snape bring Voldemort the prophecy anyways? I thought-”

“Trellawney carried it over,” Sirius explained quickly. “How do you think those things get stored? The prophet wraps them up in that round magical thingy and brings them in to submit to the-”

“Oh, and Voldemort didn’t know that Trwllawney could…?”

Sirius shrugged. “Guess not. Dumbledore knew though. He was apparently there when she did it.”

“Ahh, and… you’re all… you’re all fine?”

“Yeah, don’t worry kiddo,” Sirius said reassuringly. “Tonks got whacked-”

Harry froze.

“-just as one of them was trying to run away,” Sirius said quickly. “No worries. She will be sore for a bit but nothing too serious.”

“Right.”

“She’s fine. We’re all fine, kiddo.”

“Right.” Harry sighed. “That’s good- I- I’m glad. About Peter Pettigrew as well. I- yeah . Yeah.”

Sirius gave him a smile. “I know, kiddo.”

Harry smiled too.

“I’ll see you soon then?” Sirius asked tentatively. “After the school is done for the year, I mean. After the obligatory muggle visit?”

“Yeah. Yeah, see you soon.”

 

-

 

“Here,” Cedric said, handing him a plate full of food. “Asked the house elves for a quick snack, so you can eat a bit before you go.”

“Not that hungry,” Harry admitted, but took the plate anyway. He put in on the grass next to the mirror, staring at the assortment of finger sandwiches. 

“These are sweet.” Cedric pointed out to the right side of the plate. “And these are savory,” he said. “And then this.” He set down a goblet full of what looked like red liquid under the bright moonlight. “Just lemonade with ice. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in the mood for any of the magical staples.”

Harry took the goblet, taking a long gulp out of it. “Yeah, this works,” he said slowly. He sighed then, staring up at the moon. “They were apparently all fine.”

“I told you,” Cedric said, reaching over to grab one of the finger sandwiches. “Wanna try one too?”

Harry didn’t, but he made himself grab one anyway. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, munching on one filled with ham and mustard. “I shouldn’t have freaked out on you like that.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not, but okay.”

“It’s been stressful for you.”

Harry pursed his lips. “That’s not an excuse.”

“It is.”

Harry sighed, grabbing another sandwich. It was filled with what tasted like strawberry jam and chocolate spread. “Still.”

They ate in a relative silence for a few moments and then: “That's the ministry thing out of the way,” Cedric said. “Horcruxes next.”

Harry’s hand stilled halfway up to his mouth with another sandwich that contained cream cheese and mandarins. “Ah, did Bill…?”

“Not yet, but it’s on a good path apparently,” Cedric said. “Enough to bring you in soon for a couple of tests. Nagini might follow, if the prognosis is good.”

“Ah.”

“Would be good if we got it done over the summer,” Cedric continued, putting his sandwich apart, not eating it. “I won’t be here next year anymore, remember?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Cedric said. “If you come back when Harry is back at Hogwarts, Haz-”

“I’m sure we can figure it out somehow,” Harry said. “Sirius can give you his mirror-”

“I won’t take that from Harry, Haz, come on.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” Harry reasoned. 

Cedric gave him a soft smile. “I don’t think that’s a good enough argument, but okay.”

“He trusts you enough to let you borrow the mirror.”

“He wasn't using it anyways, you said, so…”

“See. So he won’t mind if he doesn’t-”

“Haz…”

“Rickie.”

Cedric sighed, putting the dismembered sandwich back on the plate. “Maybe it’s time to tell Harry though. To tell Hermione and Ron too. Maybe Sirius. Bill. ”

Harry watched him, startled. “Why?”

“Isn’t Harry getting suspicious about this whole thing?”

“Err, not that much,” Harry said, sifting through his most recent batch of memories. “He thought it’s all Voldermot before the Occlumency set in.”

“His shields are fully up now though,” Cedric reasoned. “If he notices memory lapses now, he’ll suspect something’s wrong-”

“Yeah, but it will be fine.

“I think he deserves to know,” Cedric cut in, staring him down.

Harry leaned away. “Didn’t you say he needs to be protected from this whole thing?”

“Yeah, but this is not protecting him, this is… keeping things from him. It’s not helpful, not anymore. I didn’t say anything to him because I promised you I wouldn’t and it kinda made sense at the start, but… don’t you think he deserves the truth by now?”

Harry was silent.

“Don’t you think so?” Cedric repeated. “We’re all in this together, Haz. We will all help you. We will all help Harry. Keeping any of this from him… isn’t it about damn time he knew everything?”

“They kept me in the dark until the very last second and I was fine,” Harry said defensively. “Harry-”

“Harry deserves better. He deserves to know. You deserved to know,” Cedric insisted. “Don’t you think?”

Harry was silent, playing with one of the sandwiches on his plate.

“Haz,” Cedric prompted.

“I don’t know,” Harry said as he felt the hook tug at his navel. “What if-”

Chapter 13

“Harry!”

“Merlin’s beard, Harry!”

“Harry, kiddo, can you hear me?”

There was absolutely way too much going on around him. He could hear footsteps all around him, causing his motion-sickness to worsen with every additional stomp. The bright light streaming in through the nearest window made him close his eyes and turn his head towards the vibrating floor, which wasn’t really a win either. He felt so sick, so close to throwing up-

“Invigoration Draught,” he managed to push out.

“What?” came a very muddy question. He wasn’t even sure who had asked it.

“He said… wait, Padfood, he said Invigoration Draught, didn’t he?”

“Does that mean…?”

“Call Cedric.”

“It must mean-”

“ Accio Invigoration Draught,” Remus casted. There was a light whoosh, Harry’s ear drums quivered.

“ Expecto Patronum. Find: Cedric Diggory. Tell him: He’s back.”

And then there were gentle hands pressing against his face. They tilted his head up and upturned the vial into his mouth. He drank it up eagerly, sighing deeply when the sickness eased up a tad.

He opened his eyes, recognizing the repurposed training room on the second floor of Grimmauld's place. His wand was still clenched tightly in his hand, his core thrumming from exhaustion.

“Fucking hell.” He sighed. “Got more?”

Sirius and Remus exchanged brief glances and then there was a second vial pressed up against his palm. Harry gulped it down, feeling a lot better after he swallowed the last drop of it.

“It’s not recommended to take more than one,” Remus said from his side. “I’m sure you know that though.” There was a tilt to the end of the sentence, a gentle question, unsure prodding.

“Are you the future one?” Sirius asked, his hands on his hips as he leaned over him curiously.

“Padfood,” Remus scolded. 

“What?”

“Give him a moment to-”

“Cedric said-”

“Yes,” Harry interrupted them. “Yes, I am the future one.”

“Got anything to prove it with?” Sirius asked, straightening up.

Remus gave him a look.

“What? I can’t ask?”

“You can. It’s just… Cedric proved it well enough, didn’t he?”

“Well yeah, but I was still gonna ask, come on. What-”

It was weird, looking at them, looking at Sirius, seeing him polished like this, with hair longer again, clean. He had never seen him like this. Not really.

Harry tore his eyes away. “How do you want me to prove it? There isn’t an awesome secret I could share with you. You’re both dead in my future,” he said, feeling unsteady. It wasn't due to motion sickness this time around though. “I didn’t exactly have time to learn anything ground-breaking about any of you.”

“Err,” Sirius pursed his lips. “Right.”

“What, me too?” Remus asked. “Cedric didn’t mention that.”

“Because it didn’t happen yet,” Harry whispered. “And it won’t happen anymore, so…”

He pushed himself up to his feet. Remus’ hand appeared in the periphery of his vision, ready to help. And so did Sirius’. He didn’t dare to reach out for any of them. 

What if-

What if his hand just went through them like-

And that was when the fireplace in the far corner flared up, the fire glowing a bright white color. Cedric walked through it clad in long wizarding robes, the sparkling inside of the fabric cascading through a dark gray overcoat. 

“Haz,” he greeted.

“Rickie.” Harry sighed, reaching out for him.

What if-

Cedric grabbed him. His hand was solid, warm, as real as it could get.

“I’ll be borrowing him for a bit, if that’s alright,” Cedric said, turning to the two men. “Bill’s already waiting.”

“Right.”

“Bring him back in one piece,” Remus said. “Or rather, in two if possible.”

“I’m guessing we won’t be doing much more than tests today,” Cedric said, stepping in closer to the dormant fireplace. “But one can hope.”

“Yeah.”

The fireplace flared up again, the timed opening easily recognisable by its white flame. There would only be moments left. So Harry really shouldn’t be wasting any more time for such silly things as-

But-

“Err.” He turned, looking at Sirius and Remus in turn. “I- I inherited the cottage. Found the clearing. The field maple was dying by the time I got there, the scratches along the bark from Moony’s... um but the engravings… I found the engravings.” He turned to Sirius. “Does that answer your question?”

Sirius looked over at Remus, his look heavy. 

“It does,” Remus said, smiling.

“Yea, it does,” Sirius repeated.

And with that out of the way, Harry followed Cedric into the white fire, its startlingly bright flames disappearing within the next few seconds.

 

-

 

They flooed through a couple of different locations, some of them looking more abandoned than the Shrieking shack, some of them represented by just an old barely standing fireplace hidden within ruins on top of a hill, others just empty rooms with multiple fireplaces built in and nothing else.

“Didn’t know the Order had access to the official way stations,” Harry noted as they walked through one of the mostly-empty rooms. The only indication that there might be a worker somewhere around was an empty wooden chair sitting lonely in one of the corners and the magical newspaper folded on top of it.

Cedric did not answer that. Instead he just beckoned him to jump into the fire he was pointing at. “One more,” he said.

And with that they were walking out straight into one of the private chambers of the Gringotts bank. Bill was already waiting for them at the entrance, the vest of the Gringotts uniform casually unbuttoned, his ginger hair in charming disarray.

“Glad you could make it,” he said in lieu of greeting.

Cedric gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the quick-”

“Ah, don’t sweat it,” Bill interrupted, turning his attention to Harry. He squinted, surveying him carefully. “So, is Fleur going to say yes when I ask her to marry me later this month?”

“Yeah, your mom is not going to be happy about it though,” Harry answered, the corner of his mouth lifting up.

Bill gave him a shrug and beckoned them both to follow him out of the private chamber, leading them deeper into the bank.

“She’ll come around though, won’t she?” he asked as they passed a couple of goblins hurrying to the private chamber they had just vacated. 

Harry gave him a look.

“Won’t she?” Bill prompted.

“Yes, eventually she will,” Harry allowed.

Bill bumped his shoulder. “Won’t you give me some more details on what it was that actually broke her, just so that I can speed things up for Fleur a bit?”

“Err-” Harry glanced over at Cedric and then gave Bill an awkward scrunch of his nose. “You got mauled by Greyback.”

“Grey- the werewolf?”

“I’d rather we skip that one this time around,” Harry said earnestly. “If you don’t mind.”

“Was it that bad?”

“Well, your face was all fucked up, so-”

Bill paused. “And Fleur-”

“-said it doesn't change a thing,” Harry finished.

Bill’s face lit up. “Oh.”

Cedric stepped in between them. “Sorry to interrupt this very wholesome debate, but we need to speed things up. The future Harry won’t be staying for long, so if you want to do your test on him...”

Bill nodded, straightening up his vest. “Right.” He waved them into a thin downwards-sloping staircase. “This way, gentlemen.”

The stairs must have been magically charmed by a charm similar to the the one at the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room, because the moment Harry set his foot on the first one, he was already stumbling down the last one into a modest dimly-lit room that reminded him of the potion’s classroom, except instead of potions it was filled up with tools he did not recognize and a bunch of artifacts that seemed to have mostly come from Egypt.

“Come on along,” Bill prompted them when they paused to gape around. He led them both to the far wall with a framed photo of the Weasley family that the Daily Prophet published a few years back when they won the trip to Egypt. He pushed at it with his fingertip and the wall swung open revealing a circular cave, stretching up above them into a dome full of stalactites. 

When they entered, the stalactites above them began to shine in a faint fluorescent light, revealing a circle of items lying at the edges of a heptagram pattern drawn on the ground with what looked like solidified pure gold - the lines of gold extended up to the items, encasing them each in an uneven bowl of raw gold. The lines met in the middle creating a small pedestal.

Harry stepped in closer to the shimmering contraption. The closest to them was the destroyed diary, lying limply with the decaying wound in its middle. He then caught sight of the rest of them - the ring, the cup, the diadem, the locket - each of them lying in the golden chalice, encased by glittering wards. 

“I’ll show you how it works,” Bill said as he brought up his wand. “But first, mind if I ran a few quick diagnostic spells on you?”

Harry shook his head. “Go ahead.” 

Bill waved his wand around, chanting in languages Harry himself barely recognized.

“So, how have you been?” Harry asked, glancing over at Cedric, who had just been standing at the periphery, watching the horcruxes curiously.

“Don’t have many new memories of seeing you around ever since the Whomping Willow thing where you told Harry everything.”

Cedric pursed his lips at that. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m not really welcome at the moment.” He looked down, digging around the cave floor with his foot. 

Harry opened his mouth to protest-

“Not after the whole revelation thing anyways,” Cedric added. “Your actual friends didn’t have the best of reactions so I thought maybe it would be better if I just kept my distance for the time being. Let them… let Harry mule over the whole thing in peace.”

Harry frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“Harry wasn’t there,” Cedric said. “I asked Sirius and Remus to keep an eye on things, don’t worry. I also kinda got Snape to be our connection back at Hogwarts. Just go to his place next time you’re around, he’ll lend you his fireplace and let Bill know you’re back, so you guys can continue on with… all of this .”

“And you… what will you be-?”

“I’ll be keeping an eye on that list of yours,” Cedric said. “With the Order. We’ve been pretty successful at saving people so far. Mrs. Bones-”

“Rickie…,” Harry started.

“You’re not gonna change my mind Haz, so why not just drop it?” Cedric said sternly.

“But-”

“If you think I’m going to just stand by as Death Eaters try to kill Hannah’s mom then you don’t know me at all,” he said. “She’s been through enough.”

“Why not just let-”

“Or that boy Mongomery for that matter,” he added, his tone final.

Harry shook his head. “Don’t get mauled just to win my old friends over again. It might have proven to be a good tactic, but it’s not worth the-”

Bill paused at that. “Greyback planning an assault?”

Cedric nodded tightly.

“Mind if I participate in that one?” Bill asked, a wicked grin spreading over his lips. “Might as well-”

“Sure.”

“You guys!”

“Just send a patronus to Bill the next time you’re around, alright? And go to Snape.” Cedric turned to Harry. “He will have a timed path for you at hand to come here for the rest of the experiments. All you have to do is follow the flames and you’ll-”

“Why can’t you come fetch me?”

“I might be busy.”

“With what?”

“Haz…”

“With what, Cedric?”

“I already told you… with the list you gave me,” Cedric said. “With the aftermath of the list.”

“The aftermath?”

“Voldermort is changing stuff,” Cedric explained. “Us saving people from the list is causing him to lash out in new directions. We have to… stay vigilant as Moody says. Keep an eye on all the rest too. He knows he’s losing and it’s causing him to come up with alternatives to his original plans. We’re worried, that-”

“Lashing out? Alternatives? What? Rickie, why didn’t you…? Why doesn’t Harry know any of this? Why don’t I-”

“He knows enough. You know enough.”

“Enough?” Harry said in disbelief. “Weren’t you the one who said-”

“We’re not arguing about this again, Haz,” Cedric said, shaking his head. “He knows what he needs to know. This? Let the rest of us handle this. Let the adults handle this.”

“Adults?” Harry spluttered.

Bill stopped waving his wand around, sticking his head between their heated glares. “All done,” he said with a fake cheer in his voice. “Harry, would you mind…?” he asked, gesturing to one of the empty chalices left in the golden contraption.

Harry went to stand in the chalice, positioning himself between the cup and the ring. The chalice was big enough for him to sit down, but he decided to remain upright so that he could see what Bill was about to do. Bill walked back to his laboratory, returning only a moment later with a basilisk fang in one hand and an ordinary-looking gray rock in another.

“We got Cedric  to thank for these two,” he told Harry, lifting the two items up for him to see. He gave the fang to Cedric and then kept walking on. 

“Harry helped with the fangs if truth be told,” Cedric said, rolling it around in his palm. 

“Not the rock though,” Harry said curiously.

“It’s a piece of the Veil. The Veil I was conveniently contracted to transport,” Bill said, grinning. “Easy access to soul matter or as we like to call it nowadays core magic .” He turned to Harry. “The Veil does not contain actual souls, not unless you happen to touch it and it would suck you dry. Luckily we’re smarter than to touch it directly these days….”

Harry and Cedric shared a heavy look.

“This is why dementors chose souls as substitutes when the Veil wasn’t around. The magic in our souls is very similar to the one contained within the Veil, similar to the one Dementors use as sustenance. They’re just a bit unlucky, because their bodies burn through the matter much quicker than ours. With ours it’s the other way around - the soul, our magical core, burns through the body quicker than it itself decays,” Bill continued, walking to the middle of the heptagram. “So you see… the Ministry didn’t steal it just to keep Dementors in line, it also stole it to try and harvest some of the power contained within, but… the Veil was not as forthcoming as they hoped. All their recorded experiments ended up in death… that is to say ours won’t, because I am smarter than that. I wouldn’t be working for the Gringotts, if I wasn’t. So…”

He crouched down to the golden pedestal in the middle of the contraption and then looked up at Harry. “Ready?”

Harry nodded.

“Keep your magic in tight check,” Bill instructed. “I have no idea what this is going to do to a living vessel.”

“Got that.”

“Cedric, go stand next to the locket just in case, that one is the most volatile from my experience,” Bill instructed, pointing at the chalice at the side. “If I tell you to spray some of the venom on it, you will, you understand? The wards let things through from our side, but not the other way around. The venom will disrupt the flow and make the horcruxes dormant again.”

“Dormant?”

“Oh yeah,” Bill said, turning the rock around. Its surface glittered, a constellation of million tiny pinpricks of light woven tightly into a velvet-like texture. It looked like part of the Veil, shimmering, almost translucent. “The soul parts within each of the horcruxes work similarly to the Veil itself. They lie dormant but if they come into contact with a soul, they start to suck at it, gathering the energy, building up their own power to become full again.”

Cedric took a cautious step back from the locket. 

“It’s fine, they can’t reach for us through the wards, don’t worry,” Bill explained quickly. “Alright, let’s feed them some of that soul magic.”

He put the stone on the pedestal. The matter stretched out weirdly like slime, dividing as if there was no gravity, undulating. “Not too much of course. We don’t want it to reach completion like the diary almost did. Not yet anyways.”

“Ah, Ginny told you?”

“Yeah,” Bill said and then the golden pedestal started to glow, its light dividing into seven even parts that traveled up the golden line to the chalises at the end, where it got absorbed by every object at the end of it. The empty bowl meant for Nagini just kept glowing dimly without a reaction and so did Harry’s, but the ones made for the rest of the horcruxes flashed one time as the matter was sucked in and then the most peculiar thing happened - smoke-like figures appeared standing above each of the bowl - each of them in a shape of a man Harry recognised, in various stages of his life - it was Tom Riddle, the echo of his soul from the time he had created each of the horcruxes. He didn’t move, he didn’t seem to register he was there. He just floated above it like a petrified ghost, staring into space.

“Alright,” Bill said, squinting over at each and every apparition. He then looked over at Harry - his bowl was still glowing, similarly to the empty one on the opposite side of him. “Okay, I thought that might happen, which is why we have waited for you specifically to be back in the body. Now move your magical core out of the way.”

Harry frowned. “Move it out of the way?”

“Yeah,” Bill said. “Cedric showed me what he learned from you. You can move your core freely, can’t you?”

“I can. Some of it. To an extent. But not as much with the lock around it,” Harry said. “If I stretch it too much it will either snap back in or the lock will break.”

“Let’s try to be gentle about it first,” Bill instructed. “If that won’t work, I’ll make sure to have a ward expert here with us for the next time to build it back up if you need to break the lock.”

Harry nodded, focusing on the inside. He prodded at his magical core, encouraging it to swirl around in its tight cage, to see where the actual borders of it lay, to map them out and purposefully move against them . The huge mass of it pressed up tightly against the walls, causing them to bulge, the usual small amount of his magic sprinting out at the ready. It wasn’t enough though, it moved too slowly, didn’t respond readily enough, there was still so much of it in the way, too much.

He glared down at the glow of the bowl underneath him and tried harder.

The lock stretched out to its maximum, not letting enough magic through, not allowing him the flexibility he was used to. And so he pressed harder. The bowl dimmed a tiny bit when he did that, but it was barely noticeable.

Just a bit more.

It dimmed, didn’t it?

A bit more.

No, it didn’t.

More.

“Haz,” he heard Cedric say from over the contraption. 

His eyes snapped up, together with the band around his magic, the pain subsiding, the path barred once again. 

“I almost had it,” he said accusingly.

“Want to try again?” Bill asked, watching them stare at each other. “We-”

“I can,” Harry replied readily, his eyes daring Cedric to argue. And argue he did: “Maybe next time? Your time is almost up, Haz.”

“Let me try again,” Harry said, turning to Bill. “I’ll be quick.”

Bill pursed his lips, looking over at Cedric, waiting for his verdict. Harry frowned, opening his mouth, but Cedric spoke up first: “Err actually, Haz, I was hoping for a minute or two before you leave again?” He looked down at the floor. “If you’d both be fine with that?

“I’d actually feel better if we have a ward expert here for any further stuff anyways.”

“Why not try the Void object then?” Harry wondered.

“I tried it around the chalices, but it’s not good,” Bill said. “It disrupts the wards on them, it disrupts the flow of the soul magic, it makes the horcruxes dormant. We actually need them to do the opposite, you know, to feed, to wake up.”

“Ah, right.”

Bill nodded at that, loosening up the wards around Harry’s chalice. He then collected the rock from the middle of the contraption. Riddle’s ghosts hanging in the air flickered out as soon as he did that. Cedric handed him the fang back and Bill walked out of the room. They could still hear him rummaging around in his laboratory though.

“A minute or two?” Harry challenged, stepping out of the bowl. “I could have-”

“I know,” Cedric said quickly. “I know, Haz. This wasn’t about that.”

Harry folded his arms over his chest, still unimpressed. “Wasn’t it? I could have managed a few more tests, you know.”

“It wasn’t. Not fully.”

Harry lifted his eyebrows. 

“I didn’t want Harry to be hurt if you got whisked away too quickly. That much is true,” Cedric admitted. “But also…” He paused, reaching into his robes.

“Also what?” Harry asked, still a tad ticked off.

“Err, this is kinda-” Cedric muttered, his face averted as he searched deep within his pockets.

“What?”

“Well…”

“Well?”

Cedric brought out a vial. “I got you something. Didn’t want you to leave before I could give it to you.”

Harry watched the vial, its content hidden by the thick mated glass.

“What is it? A stronger version of the Invigoration Draught?”

Cedric paused, frowning. “Do you need a stronger one?”

Harry shrugged. “What is it then?”

“Err, it’s… a gift of sorts.”

Harry lifted his eyes to his face. “A gift?”

“Well, yea.”

Harry blinked. “Why?”

“Just thought… why not?”

“You know I can’t take anything with me,” Harry said slowly. “Why not wait and give this to Harry. He can actually-”

“Cause it’s not-”

“It’s not?”

“It’s not for Harry ,” Cedric said in a hushed voice, his face heating up. “It’s for you, Haz.” He cleared his voice, offering him the vial again. “It’s something you will be able to take with you, no worries,” he said when Harry didn’t react.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” Harry argued. “It’s…I’m not really- I’m just… I’m not real, not really.” He stumbled awkwardly looking directly into Cedric’s bright eyes.

Lips pursed, a gentle smile playing on his lips, the answer was predictable and yet surprising: “You are to me.”

“This thing again?” Harry asked, but there was no anger behind the words this time. It was something else. Something-

Cedric sighed, flipping the vial over to open it up and show the content to Harry and Harry didn’t want to know, he couldn’t… He reached out and stopped Cedric’s fingers from moving any further by encasing them with his own, holding tightly.

“I’ve never gotten you anything either. How is that fair?” he said quickly. “I don’t think I’d be able to even if I did think of it during my next visit. So, this is-”

“You’ve gotten me plenty,” Cedric argued, pressing his thumb against the cork. It popped off before Harry could do anything about it, revealing tiny shimmering memories resting inside.

Cedric slipped his hand away, leaving the vial in Harry’s. “Something you can take with you.”

“I can’t,” Harry said automatically.

“Something to turn to if you need a calm minute,” Cedric continued as if he didn’t hear him.

Harry watched the memories sway like a field of poppies on a calm summer afternoon. He could swear he could almost feel the breeze in his face, the warmth of the sun on his skin, the taste of-

He gulped, blocking the effect the memories were already having on him. He didn’t even touch them properly yet, didn’t even put them in yet.

They were potent.

They were enthralling.

They were-

“You don’t have to look at them right now,” Cedric reasoned. “Just keep them for when you…” He shrugged. 

“When I…?”

“I might be too busy to see you next time, remember?” Cedric elaborated. “What with all the Order business. I have joined them full time now. Taking a leap year to do that. At least until…” He shrugged again. 

Harry blinked. 

“Just take them… please? It will make me feel better to know you have something to turn to if it gets too much.” He waved his hands around. “Merlin knows you get little to no rest when I am not around. I was worried you’d just-” He dropped his hands, pursing his lips.

Harry watched him fumble around for a bit more and then sighed, waving his fingers to coax the memories out of the vial and then into his mind, where he had built a thick, warded box to hide them in. It was very similar to the one Moody had been kept prisoner back in the third year, because, hey, he wasn’t exactly a furniture designer, conjuring metaphorical boxes in your mind was easier with a specific reference than without it.

The memories called out to him insistently, but he pressed the multiple lids closed against their siren voices, threw a heavy blanket over it to muffle any side-effects of their presence. Only then did he look back at Cedric again.

“If it makes you feel better, I will get something for Harry as well,” Cedric said easily. “Although I don’t think he wants to really see me around now, but yeah… any pointers? I’m guessing he has enough Quidditch supplies to last him a whole lifetime.”

“I’m-” Harry shook his head, feeling the memories calling to him faintly in the background, affecting him even from this deep in. He couldn’t help but reciprocate in any way possible… and if this was what Cedric wanted to know, then Harry shall give it to him: “How about a trip?”

“A trip?”

“If you could arrange a safe trip to a muggle cinema in London for him,” Harry said. “Or anywhere else I guess.”

“Oh…”

“Harry… I mean, I’ve never,” he paused, muling it over. “I used to be super jealous of Dudley getting to go with his friends, his parents. I’ve never really had time or the opportunity to go during Hogwarts. I’ve only… did these things after the war, but it wasn’t the same. People weren’t the same. Maybe, you could give him that. Maybe you could give Harry the experience of a trauma-free muggle outing with his friends and family.”

Cedric smiled, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s shoulder. “You’re growing soft, Haz.”

“It’s all your fault, you know,” Harry muttered honestly.

Cedric’s smile widened. He didn’t say anything, just stepped in closer and hugged him tightly. “Take care, Haz,” he whispered as the hook in his navel pulled Harry out of the embrace and back into the dark windwhirl of time.

Chapter 14

His body felt like a dead weight; the tightness of it, the inability to move, the sickness lurching inside of him, the metallic taste in his mouth - it all reminded him of the time long ago, when he got hit by the Killing curse. 

But he couldn’t have.

Not yet at least.

Unless things changed.

Unless.

His thoughts swam around in a chaotic pattern, memories inaccessible still. He wanted to move, to convince himself he was alive, but his muscles didn't listen. His magic didn’t listen, bound tighter than ever. He felt panic rising inside of him, he felt it crashing against his ribs. The breath he tried to take in faltering, leaving him empty, breathless, lifeless…

No.

No.

And then in a sudden crackle of magic the tightness of his body eased up, the sickness receding. There was a vial of something spicy pressed against up his mouth and he drank, he drank like there was no tomorrow for in his mind there hadn’t been. And with each drop sliding down his throat, his body seemed to have been finally returning to its usual status.

Harry sighed, leaning his head back against the soft fabric upholstering, his fingers scrambling for purchase on the coarse carpentry covering the floor beneath him, his eyes blinking into the yellow light fixture of the Hogwarts express.

Ah.

Ah right.

He looked around, spotting Tonks standing nervously a few meters away, clutching his invisibility cloak in front of her body like a baby blanket. Snape was crouched on his other side, a vial still in his hand, watching him intently.

“You alright, Harry?” Tonks asked, stepping in closer. 

Harry nodded, turning his eyes over to Snape.

“What happened?” Tonks asked.

“I tried to spy on Malfoy, he discovered me and hexed the living shit out of me,” Harry explained quickly, still looking at Snape, who was slowly getting to his feet, the vial pocketed safely away. His wand wavered ever so slightly at that.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor for the foul language, Potter,” Snape said automatically.

“Ah,” Harry sighed, his mouth curling up into an unwilling smile. “This early in the term? Might be my new record.”

“Harry…”

“I wasn’t done, Potter,” Snape scoffed. He tapped his fingers against his chin as he said that, eyeing him.

Harry waved his hand in a welcoming manner and waited for the rest.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Snape started idly. “Fifty points from Gryffindor for fighting on the train.”

“Oh, but I didn’t fight.” Harry couldn’t help himself. “Neither did Malfoy for that matter. A fight would mean we actively exchanged spells, which we didn’t. I’d argue for a disproportionate use of force on Malfoy’s side, but that’s up to interpretation, so I won’t be doing that, sir .”

“Fifty points off nonetheless, Potter.”

Harry nodded, waving for Tonks to give him back his cloak. And all the while Snape kept talking: “Plus, fifty points off for the lateness. And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. Just to make sure your new record is as memorable as possible, don’t you think?”

Tonks gave him a miserable look, her lips mouthing a silent apology. “I meant to call Hagrid.”

“Hagrid was otherwise preoccupied,” Snape scoffed, staring her down. “Luckily for Potter I might add. If what I remember of your skills is correct, then healing spells aren’t your forte.”

Tonks did not seem in the mood to argue.

“You may go,” Snape snapped, waving her off. “I will escort Potter here up to the castle myself.”

Tonks gave Harry a sad nod and disappeared off the train.

“You know,” Harry said after he heard a loud pop of her apparating away. “It doesn’t matter how many points you take off me, Gryffindor will keep winning the house cup for at least three more years.”

“Twenty more off for the cheek,” Snape said, looking unimpressed.

Harry grinned over at him. “Dumbledore’s just going to make up some ridiculous reason to give me a gazillion points later in the term, trust me, you’re wasting your time here.”

Snape scoffed. “I shall keep trying nonetheless.”

“Good luck,” Harry said. “Oh and thank you. What was in that vial, not the Invigoration draught, was it?”

“A strengthening potion,” Snape said.

“Strengthening… what?”

“The barrage of healing spells I had to use to revive you,” Snape said slowly. “Did Draco…?”

“Nah, he just petrified me and kicked my nose in,” Harry said, touching his healed nose. “All in all it was pretty justified.” 

“All in all?”

“It will be a tough year for him,” Harry said, looking over at Snape, the knowledge they were both privy to swelling up between them into a loaded silence.

“Your old schoolbook,” Harry said to break it.

Snape blinked, confused. “My what…?”

“Don’t just leave it lying around.”

“What are you…?”

“I’m telling you to find it and keep it somewhere where students won’t find it. The spells in it could do more harm than good.”

“Who would be stupid enough to use spells they don’t know the effects of?”

Harry gave him a sheepish smile. “Stupid people, I’d wager.”

“I ought to take points off every time you open your mouth, Potter.”

“And yet it still won’t make a difference,” Harry said mock-sadly. “You are welcome to try though.”

Snape rolled his eyes.

Harry waved him off, using the same motion to call up his Patronus. “Find: Cedric Dig-”

Snape grabbed his wrist. “Unless you want Diggory killed, I’d refrain from sending such a pompous spell his way,” he said, his voice stern. “Especially one that is so blalandly of your own making,” 

Harry paused. “Is he alright?”

“Yes,” Snape answered, letting go of him. The Patronus dissolved slowly, Snape’s eyes lingering on its faint outlines until it fully disappeared. 

“Where…?” 

“We all have our parts to play, Potter,” Snape said. “Might I suggest you concentrate on yours. There might not be time for anything else given your… predisposition.”

Harry sighed, giving him a long look. “I assume you have a safe passage for me?”

Snape beckoned him to follow him up the train. They walked past the set of prefect compartments all the way to the front of the train into the deep throat of the locomotive, where Snape gestured at the gaping open hole of the furnace chamber.

Harry laughed. “For real?”

Snape just gave him an unimpressed look, stepping out of the way as the white flames erupted from within the firebox. Harry climbed up, dipping his feet in first. He stopped halfway through though, looking back at Snape.

“These parts we’re all supposed to play...” he said slowly. 

Harry pressed his fingertips against his temple, pulling out a thick bundle of wispy memories, short flashes, fleeting moments. With a quick turn of his hand he wrapped them up in a shiny glass vial, its tinted glass bright red. He offered it to Snape. “Give this to Harry.”

“What is it?”

“It’s a… a way to make him understand a bit more,” Harry said. “I’ve… I didn’t know anything until the very end, until you told me what I needed to know. It’s only fitting it happens that way again.”

“What makes you think I’ll do as you say?” Snape wondered, his fingers playing idly with the vial in his hands. “I might as well show this to Dumbledore to aid him in his noble endeavor.”

Harry studied him for a few fleeting seconds. “Because I don’t think it’s Dumbledore you’ve been aiding all this time… and it's not the Dark Lord either.”

Snape’s eyes slid to the white flames, the flickering light giving him a sickly kind of complexion. He didn’t say anything though, staring right into the fire as if it was his most precious pensieve memory. He didn't even notice when Harry disappeared within it. He might have been there all this time already, dancing within the shadows of the past.

 

_

 

“Who do we have here?” a voice greeted them as soon as Harry and Bill entered the hidden chamber under the Gringotts. Tom Riddle was staring directly at them, his hand pressed against the invisible wall placed around a golden chalice holding Gaunt’s old ring. He sneered, his young face very much as Harry remembered it from the Chamber of Secrets all those years ago. “Another blood-traitor no doubt.”

“Still at it I see,” Bill muttered, not paying him any attention. “Don’t worry about him,” he said, turning to Harry. “I’m just experimenting with the soul matter dosage to see how much we need to separate the soul from the object.”

“Won’t that make him whole again though?” Harry asked, stepping in closer. “Just like the diary?”

“That’s kinda what we want to achieve here,” Bill said from behind him. “A total separation of the fragment and the horcrux.”

Harry hummed, studying Riddle in a morbid sort of fascination. “Funny,” he noted.

“Funny?” Riddle asked, staring down at him. 

“You calling people blood-traitors while your own fath-”

Riddle punched the invisible wall, hissing at Harry, his face suddenly furious. “You think you know me, you little rat?” he spoke in Parseltongue. “You and your little band of friends might think you know everything there is to me just because you managed to collect a bunch of my trinkets, but the truth is you-”

“Careful,” Harry hissed, offering him a grin of his own. “ I’ve already killed you a bunch of times. I might be inclined to do so again if you don’t shut the fuck up.”

Riddle’s eyes widened maniacally. He exhaled, his eyes whipping to the destroyed diary lying limply in one of the bowls, to the two empty bowls at the other side of the contraption and then back to Harry. 

“Open up this prison,” he said. “ Hand me a wand. And we shall see how-”

Harry laughed at that, simply turning away to face Bill again.

“Let me just turn him back off while we wait,” he said, leaning over the pedestal in the middle of the contraption.

“You can just turn it on and off at will?” Harry asked, stepping in closer.

“Yeah,” Bill said, simply lifting the stone off the pedestal.

“Can’t you just suck the soul out of the horcrux like this directly somehow?” Harry wondered, turning around to make sure young Riddle was indeed not there anymore. The ring glinted back at him menacingly, lying alone at the bottom of the bowl. “By reversing this pedestal thingy? It feeds the soul matter to the fragment, maybe it could suck the fragment out or so?”

“The raw soul matter is more flexible than an actual human soul,” Bill explained, putting the stone back on the pedestal. He used his wand to direct the flow of the energy to stream down to Harry’s chalice this time around. It started to glow softly. “The soul, the magic if you will, gets naturally attached to the body that holds it. That is until the body dies and loses the ability to keep the soul tethered in.”

“Wouldn’t a dementor…?”

“Yes, with creatures like us it would,” Bill confirmed. “Dementors know how to disentangle the bond between the body and the soul.”

“So wouldn’t it…?”

“Sadly no,” Bill said. “The hold the horcrux has on the soul is much, much stronger that the one our bodies have on our souls. It’s something unnatural, something forced, something that doesn’t deteriorate with time, something ageless. It has to be. An object like this does not have a natural affinity to store souls after all.”

“So if a dementor were to…”

“They were fascinated by it, they were drawn to it, but eventually they would have died of hunger, so I dismissed it as an option a while back. I could barely move them out of the room, would you believe it?” He turned to Harry. “I hear you had a rather eventful third year, didn’t you? What with dementors swarming all around you for no apparent reason.”

“I’m guessing this was the reason then,” Harry muttered, tapping the scar on his forehead. “Why go for one protein shake, if you can have two for the same price?”

Bill laughed. “Something like that, yes.”

“I’m guessing a whole army of dementors wouldn’t make a difference?” Harry wondered idly. “If you’d have them work on the horcrux for a long time, maybe one of them would figure it out and then…?”

“Well, your own soul would be long gone even if one of them did manage eventually,” Bill noted. “There isn’t a way for me to protect your soul while simultaneously letting a whole army of dementors work on the fragment within you.”

“Not that persuasive, are they?”

“More like not that lucid,” Bill said. “Not by their own fault, really. Not after the long hunger they have endured isolated on the Azkaban island. Maybe in fifty years… or with enough research, I’d be able to steer them in the right direction, but-”

“But we don’t have that much time,” Harry finished.

“Which is why…,” Bill started to say and then paused as a series of silent knocks echoed around the chamber. He got up. “Right on time, as always.”

Harry watched him move to the secret door, open it and let in a young-looking goblin with a perfectly starched Gringotts uniform on his body.

“Harry, meet treasurer Ragnok,” Bill said, leading the goblin into the chamber. He then switched to Gobbledegook offering the same introduction to the goblin. “Meet treasuree Harry Potter.”

“It is a pleasure, Mr. Potter,” Ragnok greeted politely, his hand coming up to shake Harry’s.

Harry reached down to shake the offered hand. “The pleasure is all mine, treasurer Ragnok, ” he replied in a weak attempt at fluent Gobbledegook.

Ragnok acknowledged his attempt with a gentle squeeze and then let go of him, putting his arms behind his back again.

“Treasurer Ragnok here is Gringotts ward expert,” Bill explained quickly, moving them all into positions - Harry into the chalice and Ragnok to stand right in front of him. “He kindly agreed to assist us in our current endeavor.”

“I was contracted by the noble Gringotts bank to assist my colleagues in any way necessary, treasurer Weasley,” Ragnok corrected sternly, waving his hand in the direction of the horcruxes. “Kindness has little to do with it.”

Bill nodded, turning back to Harry. “Ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Harry answered nonchalantly.

“Alright.” Bill waved his wand over the rock, the flow of energy feeding his chalice increasing, the glow of it increasing exponentially. “Now, remember, move your magic as far from the body as possible. We want the soul fragment inside of you to be able to feed on the soul matter below. We want that to be the closest source. My theory is that if we manage to overfeed it, it might separate from you on its own, become its own entity-”

“Did that work on the ring?” Harry wondered. “The full separation thing?”

“I didn’t get that far yet,” Bill admitted. “It’s hard to plan these sessions when we don’t know when you’ll be around next. Wouldn’t want to miss a session just because I didn’t get that far in yet either.”

“Yeah.”

“Yes, so just go all in this time, alright?” Bill said. “Don’t worry about breaking the underage lock. Treasurer Ragnok here will make sure it’s set back in place as soon as you leave.”

Harry bowed, swooping his hands up. He interlocked his fingers, pressing his palms against his chest. He took a deep breath in, feeling the press of his ribcage against his hands, mimicking the magic pressing up against the walls of the underage lock, ready to overflow at any given moment.

He pressed against it, his hands almost touching the band around his magical core. He could feel it getting closer and closer, until his hands felt like they had fused with it, like they had become the underage lock itself. And then he leaned his head back and started to pull his hands apart, his fingers prying at the funnel, tearing it open centimeter by centimeter until his hands flew apart, his magic streaming free within the golden chalice, contained only by the ward set up around it by Ragnok.

Harry opened his eyes, staring up at the saturated air around him, hearing his magic sing to him wildly, feeling slightly unhinged.

“Alright there, Harry?” Bill asked carefully.

“Yeah,” Harry breathed, sagging back a bit, forcing his body to relax. This body might not know how to deal with this amount of magic at its disposal, ready to blare its sirens into the world, but Harry did, Harry knew how to wield it, knew how to coax it to move this way or that way, how to do what Bill asked him to do.

Get out of the way.

Let the fragment-

“Something’s wrong,” Harry whispered suddenly as he noticed the cold creeping up his fingertips. The warmth of his magic running loose all around should have kept them tingling with warmth, burning at most, but this… he felt as if he was standing outside during a freezing winter night without any gloves whatsoever.

Without a winter jacket.

Without-

“Put the lock back on,” he wheezed before Bill could even react to what he was saying. “ Put it back on ,” he insisted.

Ragnok did not waste any time. He pulled the wards around the chalice apart with one quick wave of his hand and then started to move around Harry, poking the air as he pointed to his chest. It looked as if he was typing a very angry letter on a typewriter, the sounds filling the air nothing like it though.

When he finished his stroll around Harry, solidifying the underage lock around his magical core with one last stab of his finger, Harry sagged forward into Bill’s extended arms, still shaking, still shook, but feeling a tad better, warming up quickly.

“What happened?” Bill asked, lowering him down to rest on the floor. He conjured a cup of hot cocoa and pressed it into Harry’s weak hands. “The fragment didn’t even touch the soul matter below.” The chalice was glowing so strong, it was painting the reflective surface of the cup white instead of black. “Was the magic too much for the young body, or…?”

Harry forced himself to drink some of the hot cocoa and then said: “I probably should have mentioned that my underage lock came off like two years after I got rid of the fragment in my original timeline. I was a late bloomer. So you know, the fragment never had this kind of direct access to my magic before. It never would have if I-”

Bill groaned. “And you say that now ?” He brought out his wand. “May I?” And when Harry nodded, he started to cast an entourage of diagnostic charms.

“I didn’t realize it would be a problem,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

Bill shook his head in exasperation. “If I had known-”

“If I may, treasuree Potter,” Ragnok said, standing above their sagged forms. “The underage lock put on your core is one of the strongest I know. It’s no wonder it took that long to deteriorate naturally. With this kind of lock around your core, the reserves available must be substantial. So substantial it would overshine the amount of magic the Veil stone could offer no matter how far out you’d stretch it.”

“Ah…”

“There are different levels to underage locks?” Bill asked curiously, as he stared at the patterns the diagnostic charms were creating around Harry.

“Yes, of course,” Ragnok said. “Each core is different, each needs a different type of containment. We craft them around the core accordingly, each one an individual design, each one a perfect funnel, a perfect vessel.”

“Of course,” Bill said.

“Well, if that would be all…”

“Indeed. Thank you for your service, treasurer Ragnok. I think that will be all for today, yes.”

“Thank you, treasurer Ragnok,” Harry echoed, watching the goblin go. 

“That will be all for you as well,” BIll said, dismissing the diagnostics. “It doesn’t seem like there is any permanent damage to your core, Ragnok put it all back together perfectly, I’d say? Does it feel any different from the inside?”

“Weaker,” Harry admitted. “Think the fragment devoured some of it, not too much though. But the rest feels sort of off as well… tired, drowsy. I strained it too much trying to pull it out of the fragment's reach.”

“It will even out eventually,” Bill reassured him. “Couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds. It took the diary many months to get Ginny dry, I’m guessing it would take your fragment longer than that. Your reserves are much bigger than hers were.”

“I’m not sure,” Harry said, pressing his hand against his chest just to feel his magical core thrum lazily from within. Just to make sure it was still there. “It felt like…”

“Like what?” Bill prompted.

“Ready to suck me dry at a moment’s notice.”

Bill sighed. “Well, that’s that then. We better keep the lock on as a barrier then. We better not interact with the scar too much, lest it tries to suck you dry through the lock as it did with Ginny.”

Harry pursed his lips. “Maybe I can try again next time? If I pull my magic far enough from my body, the fragment might decide to go for the soul matter instead? Maybe find a way to channel the energy in more directly? Maybe…?”

“I’ll see if I can think of something,” Bill said, but he didn’t seem very convinced. “Pulling your magic out too much would kill you, I can already tell you now that we won’t be trying that.”

“I can pull it out quite far actually.”

“Yes, but there is a connection with your body and the fragment would use that. We won’t be doing that.”

“Then what about…?”

“We can go over it next time you’re around,” Bill decided. “I won’t be able to give you any actual answers now. I need to run a lot more tests to determine which way to go next.”

“Right,” Harry said. “Sorry.”

“Anything else you’ve neglected to share with me?”

“In my defense-”

Bill gave him a look. 

“Not that I know of,” Harry amended. “I'll make sure to let you know if something comes up.”

“Do it before the actual test next time, alright?”

“I’ll try.”

Bill stood up, something inside of his body popping as he stretched his arms above his body. “So, how much more time do you have left?”

“I don’t know.” Harry shrugged. “I don’t pay that much attention to it, Cedric does.”

“Ah…”

“How is he?” Harry asked.

Bill gave him a long thoughtful look. “How much do you know?”

“I only know what Harry knows, which is… admittedly not that much. He’s not that involved with Cedric these days or with the Order from what I can recall. Mostly just stuff Sirius tells him.”

“Being stuck at Hogwarts does that to people.”

“Yeah, I guess. So, how is he? Really?”

Bill looked over at the entrance to the chamber as if he was checking if anybody might be listening in, but the doorway remained closed and void of any foreign presence. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s been hard for the Order. Harder for Cedric still, since he has that list of yours to keep an eye on and there’s more and more discrepancies the more things we change, it’s not easy to keep on top of everything all the time. There are two fronts he's fighting - one out there against the Dark Lord trying to rise to power, which by itself is already hard enough. The second is inside of the Order. It helps that Snape and Sirius are on his side. He does have a lot of influence with Dumbledore and then Sirius has a lot of it with the people who wouldn’t be inclined to follow Dumbledore to the brink of it all, but still.” Bill shrugged. “The longer this drags out… the more out of control things get.”

Harry pursed his lips. “There is a way to end this all quickly,” he said. “But it would take some coordination.”

Bill watched him silently.

“You could destroy the horcruxes here,” Harry explained. “And the next time I’m around, I’ll take care of the rest.”

Silence fell over the chamber, Bill visibly fighting off the temptation to give in. “Cedric said you went into death for all of us,” he decided to say at last. “Is that true?”

“Yes, but I didn’t die, not really,” Harry clarified quickly. “I won’t this time either, I’m sure. It could be a quick fix for this whole mess… and then nobody would have to-”

“Harry,” Bill started. “This is not your responsibility.”

“Whose is it then?” Harry argued. “Cedric’s? Dumbledore's? I don’t see any other Chosen Ones around here, do you?”

“Just because there is a prophecy about it, doesn’t mean it needs to happen, Harry,” Bill said calmly. “Do you know how many so-called prophecies there are stored at the Ministry? How many have I read painted on walls all over the world? Do you think they all came true? It’s only those we give the power over our destiny that do come true. The Dark Lord decided to believe it and acted accordingly, but it was still something he himself decided upon and so did Dumbledore… they could have ignored it completely and the prophecy would have dimmed out under layers upon layers of dust. It didn’t though, did it? They decided to keep on feeding it. Your own decisions keep on feeding it. That’s as self-fulfilling as it gets, Harry. It’s not destiny, it’s a bunch of people deciding to take the path just because they wanted to.”

“But it’s a prophecy, isn’t magic… wouldn’t it know the best?”

“Magic might, but not the prophets who put it into words. Not the people who decide to interpret it. Humans, I find, have their own agenda, it’s not hard to create an interpretation to serve their purpose… it’s been done countless times before in the Muggle world as well as the Wizarding world. We’re all just people, with the same flaws, with the same ambitions.”

“But it worked,” Harry noted. “As long as it worked…”

“That doesn’t mean there is no other way, no better way, to go about it,” Bill said, reaching down to pull him up to his feet. “Now, enough of that, wanna go talk to some of the other fragments while you’re still here?”

Harry blinked. “You talk to them?”

“More like… interrogate them.” Bill shrugged. “They might have some info that could help with our whole situation.”

“And you think they’d willingly share it even if they did have it? This is the Dark Lord we’re talking about.”

“Hence the interrogation.”

Harry gave it a thought. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

Chapter 15

Harry awoke slowly; his head lolled against a soft velvety cushion, his fingers twitched against ornate wooden panels, his shoes brushed against a fluffy carpet. Sitting there on what he recognised as a sofa, he braced for the usual sharp taste of dizziness only to realize it wasn't coming. His memories were already updated, his body caught up. The air around was thick with healing charms-

There was a creak from opposite of him, which made Harry open his eyes. They met a curious twinkling pair of old blue eyes hidden behind a pair of golden, half-moon glasses.

“Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore said, his voice calm and measured, his eyes glued firmly to Harry’s. “I must apologize…”

And Harry knew. He would have known even if he didn’t have full access to young Harry’s memories of being called to the office, of the beginning of his conversation with the headmaster, of the proposed test.

He knew it from the way Dumbledore was looking right into his eyes, from the way Dumbledore was seated leaning slightly forward, from the way his arms were braced placatingly against the armrests, the fingers limp, the wand held between them pointed his way, from the insistent prodding against his Occlumency shields.

Harry’s jaw clenched. He resisted to throw the headmaster out of his head completely. He let him prod around the lax shields young Harry held up until he lost his consciousness, let him see the shadows rolling around behind them, hear the distant echoes, touch the barrier.

Enough.

“I’m not sure what… what happened?” Harry blinked, feigning. He brought his hand up to his face, pressing it against his forehead, covering his eyes. “Did I- did I fail the test?”

“On the contrary,” Dumbledore said, the creak of his chair announcing he leaned back. His wand was still pointed at Harry though. “You did remarkably well. I didn’t find any visible holes in your Occlumency shield and where I could have created them you shut me down quite effectively.”

“I fainted,” Harry said, hoping it sounded disappointed enough.

“You protected your mind in any way you could. It’s no easy feat to stand against an onslaught like this and resist it.”

“So, I’m good?” Harry asked. “Voldemort isn’t sneaking in, is he? You said-”

“You must forgive an old man, Harry,” Dumbledore said, smoothing out his robes, the swoosh of fabric gentle in the silent office. “These are hard times, it would make the most decent man-”

Paranoid, Harry almost said as a subtle wave of charms washed over him. He recognised their taste on the tip of his tongue - a spicy mix of revealing charms. 

“-careful,” Dumbledore said instead. “My weak old mind forgot what it was like to be a teenager, forgot what it's like to be constantly learning, changing, evolving… and that's all there is to it, isn't it, Harry?”

“Err, I guess?”

“Well, be it as it may, I doubt anybody would be able to sneak inside your mind without your own knowledge, that much is clear.”

Harry almost burst out laughing.

“Nonetheless, I must implore you to keep visiting professor Snape for the advanced lessons in Occlumency,” Dumbledore continued. He leaned back forward, his wand moving back in a lavish motion. A second wave of charms enveloped Harry. He could feel the lock thrum inside of him, responding with a pang as the analytic charms hit it like a hammer. 

Ah.

“Do I really have to?” Harry scoffed, folding his hands over his chest protectively before he could stop himself. He hoped Dumbledore would assign the gesture to petulance instead to what it truly was. “Can’t you teach me?”

“I’m afraid I am far too busy for that, my boy,” Dumbledore soothed, the magic emanating from him anything but soothing. “There are things… things that demand my undivided attention. Things that prevent me from-”

“Like what? Voldemort?” Harry asked. “Is he plotting something? Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to lower my shields to see what he is plotting? If I have direct access to his mind, as you keep telling me, maybe-”

“This connection you have with Tom is not a one-way path, Harry,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. “It’s an open channel. A channel Tom could use against you, against us . You know far too much. You have access to far too many-”

“I don’t really know anything that important,” Harry argued. “Sirius and the others don’t really tell me anything, I don’t even know what’s going on with Voldermort right now. Shouldn’t I know? Shouldn’t I be helping the Order? Shouldn’t I be helping-” he faltered, only now noticing the Compulsion charm waffling gently his way. It was doing its best to rip the words from the tip of his tongue, revealing things he wouldn’t want to be revealed.  

Oh.

“Shouldn’t I be helping you ?” Harry finished, pressing his tongue against the top of his mouth. 

Dumbledore smiled. “It’s very kind of you to volunteer yourself to our cause so easily, Harry.”

The compelling magic around him grew stronger and Harry let it slide over his muscles, let it grope at him. He let it unstick his tongue. He let it push out words. 

He could feel a tingle in his temples. A second charm joined in.

Truth.

He must aim for truth.

He must. 

The magic around him demanded him. 

“Shouldn’t I be doing something?” Vague words. Words that would be true for him and for young Harry at the same time. Things that- “Aren’t I the Chosen One? How can I just sit around and do nothing? Let the Order, let Cedric-”

Fuck, cover!

“Let Sirius, Remus… what if something happens to them? To any of them, while I just sit here- while I could be- sir , I have faced Voldemort many times before, if I could just - I don’t understand why people won’t allow me to-”

It was startlingly easy to be honest about this. So easy it shocked him. Even after all the time he spent jumping along his old timeline, even after all the reasoning Cedric or even Bill did. It still- he was still-

“I am ready, sir,” he whispered, his eyes wide with the realization. “I've been ready before I even-” 

The magic pressing up on his chest eased up a tad.

His chest felt just as tight as before though.

If not tighter. 

So much tighter. 

“Harry,” Dumbledore said, reaching out to put the hand with his wand on Harry’s hand. It was meant to be calming. The tip of Dumbledore’s wand ended up pressed up against his belly though, so it wasn’t, not really.

Harry lowered his gaze, keeping the wand in the periphery of his vision by instinct. He didn't care that much though. The only thing he could think of was-

It was-

Rickie would have been so disappointed with me right now.

“My brave, brave boy,” Dumbledore said and his words meant nothing, nothing at all. Not when the wand pressed up against his belly placed an entourage of charms that started to whisper to him almost immediately. Charms that eradicated all the doubt inside of his mind, that silenced Cedric’s words altogether, that calmed down the storm inside of his mind almost immediately. 

“Your time will come. Of that I assure you. There will come a moment, when there is something you and only you can do and when the time comes, I trust you to- no I am sure that you will do what must be done.”

Harry looked up into his eyes, then nodded. 

“But we cannot allow ourselves to be reckless about it,” Dumbledore continued, squeezing his hand. “Not until we know all there is to know, not until we have enough information to understand what exactly it is that needs to be done, not until it’s fully confirmed, do you understand?”

“Is that what’s keeping you so busy then? Trying to make up a plan that would help me win against Voldemort?” Harry couldn’t help asking. Hoping. 

Dumbledore let go of his hand, giving it one last pat before he leant back in his chair. “A plan that would get rid of the Dark Lord for once and for all, yes,” he amended.

Harry watched him, the charms around him slowly dispersing into nothingness on their own as soon as Dumbledore’s wand disappeared up his sleeve.

Harry felt a hysterical kind of laughter rise up his throat. He managed to not give into it though.

Dumbledore smiled. “Which is why we must be patient. Only once the whole puzzle is solved, only then will we proceed, do you understand? Until then…  I wish you to enjoy the simple school life, to enjoy the simple teen things that you young folk enjoy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dumbledore smiled widely. “Ah, Harry. You’ve been so helpful all these years, only thanks to you can I now see the full picture. Only thanks to your limitless bravery will we be able to succeed.” He looked to the side, gesturing to the Sorting hat, lying motionlessly on one of his shelves. The look in his eyes grew distant. “A true Gryffindor,” he mused, looking back at Harry. “Your father would have been proud, your mother even more so. I am proud of you Harry as well, of the man you’re becoming. I can only hope…”

And on and on he went, but Harry didn’t listen anymore, not really. He was too lost in his own thoughts.

 

-

 

The gargoyle statue slid slowly back to place and Harry paused at the end of the hallway, watching the stone click neatly in place. There was no point in hurrying down to Snape’s office anymore. He’ll probably be gone before he could reach Bill, before he could even reach Cedric, wherever he might have been at the very moment. And Harry… even if he could, even if there was some amount of worry bubbling up at the back of his mind to check up on Cedric, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to look Cedric in the eyes, not now, not right after he confessed what he had back at Dumbledore’s office. He could barely even begin to look at himself, at his own thoughts in his own head.

And so he turned away from the stairs and trotted to the nearest wall. He pressed his palm against one of the bricks and pushed, speaking “Open up.” in Parseltongue. It took a bit of time for the magic to stretch all the way up to the tower, but when it did, the wall slid open, revealing a tight tunnel, lit faintly by fluorescent moss. 

Harry glanced back to the gargoyle one last time and then stepped in, the wall folding up behind him. He followed the passage straight ahead to the Astronomy Wing, where it let him out right across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

He wasn’t sure if he’ll be able to call up anything at all, what with the chaotic jumble of thoughts inside of his head, but the Room of Requirement must have sensed what he needed, because when he entered it, he stepped right into the middle of the moon-lit backyard of his home. It looked just the same as when he had lived there, exactly the same as the time from around two years ago, when he took Cedric to the Room of Requirement to decompress.

The feel of the soft moss underneath made him calm down a bit. The rustling of needles on the pine trees towering over him, the specific sweet smell of the sap saturating the warm summer air, the creaking bark, the clicking pinecones, the- everything .

Harry walked to the middle of it all and sat down, leaning back against one of the pine trees, its roots coming up to create armrests at just the right height for him.

He remained sitting there for a couple of long minutes, wondering what he should do next - not what he had to do, not what he himself thought was right - he tried to find the most objective way forward and failed .

Failed.

Over and over his thoughts kept circling to what he had said to Dumbledore under the influence of the truth charm.

A simple fucking truth charm.  

Harry sighed, pressing his hands against his face, tilting his head forward to push his fingertips against his eyelids, feeling out his eyes sockets and then pulling the skin down, hoping against all odds that the sensation of being pulled too thin would stop if only there was an actual stimulus to go with it. But when he let go of his skin, he realized the feeling did not pass with it. It remained deep inside of him. And he knew-

And he knew he himself wouldn’t be able to decide about any of this.

He couldn’t.

Not him.

He leaned his head against the tree trunk and laughed.

“Of course,” he said, shaking his head. “Of fucking course.”

There was only one person who could.

Only one who should. 

Harry leaned forward, bending his knees a bit to get more comfortable and then waved his hand in quick greeting. “Hi Harry,” he said, gesturing at the empty space in front of him. “I’m gonna keep speaking to this place right in front of me, so… if you want this to be a bit less weird you can sit down right there. We’re in the Room of Requirement by the way, so all you have to do to leave after watching this memory is to walk straight between those two massive pine trees on the other side and the door should be there. If not, just wish for it to be there, duh.”

Harry pursed his lips, thinking. “So errr… right. Hi. Hi again. I should have probably done this right at the beginning, but yeah, I’m not really the most organized person and there were just so many immediate things that demanded my attention that I just… didn’t- but hey, I will… well, I probably won’t do this each time I jump, I keep getting lost in- stuff. ”

Harry shook his head.

“Now that I think about it, I guess it was a pretty shitty move from me to just bodysnatch- not that I had a choice you know? Also, this is technically my body as well, so I am unsure what rules apply here, but… but you get my point.” Harry tapped his lips, trying to organize his thoughts a bit more. “I didn’t have a point, not really.”

“Alright,” he smacked his lips. “Status report first: Err, I woke up in Dumbledore's office. From what I could recall he was trying to test our Occlumency shields which honestly… I couldn’t do Occlumency at all at your age so… you go, buddy.” Harry paused, cringing a bit. “Ehm, I think I managed to fool Dumbledore that I am you, so you don’t have to worry. I let him poke around the Occlumency shields for a bit while we talked. He… actually let me just-” Harry lifted his hands, casting a few diagnostic charms over his body. “There don’t seem to be any lasting effects from the magic he put on me during our talk. He casted these in secret, trying to influence some of my reactions a bit… I’m guessing to interrogate me on my weird behavior lately. He thought maybe Riddle’s influence might be getting too strong.” Harry snorted. “Not that it could, but you know.”

Harry scanned the diagnostics, running his fingers through the list of residual magic. “Occlumency charms, obviously. Then a pretty strong mixture of revealing charms, which I don’t think revealed anything to him. I am Harry Potter after all, same as you are, though my mind might be older, there is nothing to really be revealed. Next,” Harry hummed, moving down the list. “Analytic charms. Similar to this one really, except he didn’t dare displaying the results like this, so it could only confirm what he wanted to be confirmed, which I think was something regarding your underage lock.” He pressed his hand against his chest. “I could feel it respond in turn. He was probably worried the lock might be getting weaker. If so, the horcrux inside of us would have easy access to our soul and might consume us, which if I remember correctly you already know from Bill… partially from the memories I left with Snape too, I guess.”

Harry looked up at the empty space in front of him. “I think… Dumbledore must suspect Riddle from having a bunch of horcruxes. He’s been suspecting it since the diary, you know. And in my tieline at this point, as you know, he would have already been teaching us about them. He’d already have the ring destroyed. He’s delayed in this new timeline though, still unsure, still just guessing it might be so.”

Harry frowned. “Which reminds me, he did ask me to get a certain memory from Slughhorn, which… I think you don’t have to, but if he does ask, just tell him you’re doing your best. It took me a whole year to get it before so there should be no pressure on it this time around either.” Harry shrugged. “I don’t think you’d get it this time though. Last time we… I managed to win the luck potion from him and used it to get that memory. In your time,” Harry squinted. “In your time it was won by Malfoy which… eh, might work out better, he won’t be that desperate to try other things, he hasn’t been from as far as I know, which… which is good.”

Harry blinked, focusing back on the list. “Compulsion. Truth.” He waved his hand through the list to have it dissolve into the air. “There is something I did not put into the memories I gave to Snape. Something I- well, in full honestly I couldn’t have put everything in them, that would be a bit too much for a simple memory, I really wasn’t about to fry your brain just to help you understand, but-” Harry shook his head. “Back up,” he muttered. “This will make no sense if I don’t back up.”

“The point is,” Harry brought back the analytics, watching his heartbeat beat frantically at the screen. “The point is… they thought that maybe Dumbledore was leading me to where I need to be, shaping me to who I need to be for him to fulfill the prophecy, but having seen the magic he just used on me-” He waved his hand at the list and the collection of spells Dumbledore had used.

“I realized it’s not him making me do any of this,” Harry continued. “Yes, I’m sure there is some kind of conditioning going on, I am not that naive, but I couldn’t feel any strong mind-altering magic at all, even a silly Pepper-up potion has stronger effects than whatever he was using on me tonight.” He laughed. Then pressed his trembling hand against his mouth. 

“He was just checking… checking I am where I need to be mentally, making sure… which means-” The heartbeat on the diagnostic charm went up, racing forward as if it thought it could run away from the truth, but the truth was-

The truth was-

“ This is just who I am ,” Harry concluded, sliding his hand off his mouth to smile maniacally. “This is something I will do in any timeline. A Gryffindor through and through , aren’t I?” Harry looked up. “No matter what direction people might try to push me into, nothing is going to change, I will do it anyway because I believe… because I know from deep within my heart, that if my sacrifice is what can save people, I will do it . It’s like a… fixed point in time,” Harry breathed. “That’s why there is a prophecy. Because it’s inevitable. Either must die at the hand of the other. I must die at his hand so that he can then die at mine. That’s the only way to… the only way we win. I can’t have us not win, Harry.”

He paused, collecting himself.

“Which is why,” he whispered. “Which is why, Harry, I can’t be the one to decide what we will do next. I can’t do it. If it were up to me, I would go to Gringotts, grab one of those basilisk fangs and fuck all the horcruxes up. I would run to Malfoy Manor and kill Nagini and then offer myself up to Riddle… because I know it would save them all from all the further suffering, it would save them from dying. With my list no longer helping as well, with the new unknown future bringing people into danger once again, there is no way I wouldn’t do it. I would offer myself to save them without second thoughts.”

“You might think it’s because I am sure I wouldn’t die,” Harry said, grinning. “But I am not sure I won’t die at all… I keep saying I am, but… you , you might survive, but me? Will I get a chance to return? I don’t know. I don’t even know what will happen to me at the end of all this. My future, the future I have lived, is long destroyed, isn’t it? So… will I slowly fade away as well? And if so wouldn’t it make sense to just go for it then?”

“But I can’t.”

“I won’t.”

“Not of my own volition,” Harry said, leaning back again. “I want you to be the one to decide, Harry. It has to be you. It has to . So… what is that you want me to do?”

Harry nodded and pressed his hand against his temple. A memory slowly waived its way through his hair, folding up in a ball of light into his palm. He transfigured his necktie into a shiny golden vial and gently coaxed the memory to hide inside. He used one of his shoelaces to tie a piece of parchment to the cork, the parchment transfigured from his aglet, pulling it out into space like a piece of chewing gum. He wrote down a quick set of instructions and clenched his fist around the vial.

For the rest of his time, he just stared up at the night sky, wondering if this was the right thing to do or if he just fucked up the whole future for all of them.

Chapter 16

A blinding searing pain was all that greeted him when he awoke the next time around - it was worse than before, worse than ever and for a moment Harry thought he wouldn’t be able to even move, but slowly, as if by magic, it started to ease up, until it cleared out completely, leaving him in a comfortable bed with all his memories updated and a fresh minty taste in his mouth.

Harry opened his eyes, squinting up at a lamp that was throwing a circle of golden light onto a shadowy ceiling. He raised his head and spotted two familiar faces.

“Nice of you to drop in,” Ron said, grinning. 

“Oh, finally!” Hermione cried out, rushing out of the chair near the bed. The book she had been holding open in her lap landed at the edge of his bed with a loud thud.

Harry reached up, feeling the stiff turban created by layers upon layers of bandages wound around his head. “Ah,” was all he got to say. Next thing he knew he was being pushed back against the pillows by Madame Pomfrey. “Cracked skull,” she said tersely. “Nothing to worry about, I’ve already mended it, but I’ll be keeping you overnight-”

Harry opened his mouth.

“No arguing, Potter.” Pomfrey said, tucking him in. “I know you’re eager to get out, but there were some complications that I won’t be taking lightly. Not this time.”

“What did you cast on me?” Harry asked, pressing his fingers against the side of his head. It felt alright. From outside and inside. If he could just find out- “What was it that worked?” Maybe next time he could-

“Leave the healing to me, Potter, why don’t you?’ Pomfrey gave him a tight smile. “Concentrate on-”

“What was it?” Harry repeated, looking up at her.

Pomfrey hesitated. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” she said at last, pulling the blanket higher. “Now rest. As much as you can.” She turned to Ron and Hermione. “Five more minutes and then back to the dormitory, the two of you.” And then turned away to bustle back into her office. Harry sat back up as soon as the door closed behind her, reaching for the turban again.

“McLaggen got you pretty bad, buddy,” Ron noted. “Cost us the victory, it did. The team wasn’t really happy about that… I would be surprised if there is anything more than a toenail left of him by tomorrow.”

“Jumping in like that… he should be ashamed of himself,” Hermione added. “Only active players are allowed on the field.”

“An asshole move for sure,” Ron complained loudly. “I was doing so well too. We could have won.” He sighed. “Fred and George would finally-”

“I heard McGonagall took a bunch of points off him,” Hermione jumped in. “I understand she had to, but why punish Gryffindor for his stupid behavior, you know? All the points I managed to collect in classes, gone just like that! Next time I see him-”

“Next time I see him-” echoed Ron.

Harry didn’t respond to them. He was too busy unwinding the turban off his head.

“I’m not sure you should be-” Ron started, reaching over.

“Pomfrey will go mad if she sees you-” Hermione joined in, reaching out as well. 

Harry wasn’t listening though. The bandage slid down into his lap as he called up the diagnostic charm, letting it display the last echoes of the magic Pomfrey had used to cure him. It was a long list. Charms he hadn't even heard about before.

Harry wrinkled his nose. 

Might as well remember them.

Just in case.

“Recuperate totalum,” he read off the list. “Mentis salvo.”

“Harry,” Hermione called out, sticking her hand into the charm in front of him to dissolve it into thin air. “Pomfrey said you shouldn’t be casting any magic right now.”

“She did say that, mate, so you better-”

“She also said you need to keep these on,” Hermione hissed, the bandages suddenly in her hands.

Harry shook his head, but she did not listen. Instead she reached over trying to wind the bandages around Harry’s head in a makeshift turban. Harry lifted his hands to stop her, the sleeves on his hospital gown sliding down to his elbows.

That was when a black smudge caught his eye. He stopped struggling with Hermione, pulling his sleeve out of the way to see-

Ink.

It was ink.

A message written in ink.

“Now I’ll just-” Hermione kept muttering, fiddling with the bandages. 

“Don’t pull at it so tightly,” Ron chastised. “His brain will leak out.”

“It might leak out if I don’t wind it tightly enough.”

Harry just stared at the message on his forearm.

Do what you must, said the message. Do what you must to end this as soon as possible.

“Hermione, you’ll give him a migraine.”

“Why don’t you try it yourself if you’re that clever? I-”

Harry reached over, grabbing the piece of bandage Hermione was pulling on to stop her.

“I’ve gotta go,” Harry said, yanking the bandages off his head in one violent motion. It made Hermione huff in annoyance. He threw off the blanket, getting up from the bed.

“Really, Harry? there is no need to be dramatic, it’s just-” Hermione started. 

“Mate,” Ron joined right away, jumping to the side to barricade his way out. “Better listen to Hermione, Pomfrey will kill you if she finds out that you tried to-”

“Ron.”

Ron put a hand against his shoulder. “McLaggen is not worth the-”

“He really isn’t, Harry,” Hermione said, running around the bed to join Ron. “Why don’t you return to bed? Pomfrey said-”

“Pomfrey said-”

“Ron.” Harry grabbed his wrist, giving him a stern look. “Let go. Now.”

Ron blinked, his hand falling back slowly. Harry slipped past both of them and headed for the door, but just as he was about to reach out for the door handle, reach out through the wards hugging the Hospital Wing, Ron spoke up in a hushed, nervous voice: “Is this about the raid?”

Harry paused, turning back around. “Raid? What raid?”

“Err.” Ron coughed, looking over at Hermione. “I wasn’t supposed to-”

“What raid?” Harry repeated, his eyes jumping between the two of them. “And why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?”

Hermione raised her hands placatingly. “Harry, really, there was no time to tell you. You had a Quidditch game coming up and I didn’t want you to worry-”

“A Quidditch game,” Harry echoed in disbelief. “How is that more important than- never mind, a raid ?”

“See, now I knew you’d just freak out unnecessarily,” Hermione said, sharing her head. “There is nothing you can do, you know, the Order has it under control I’m sure.”

“Besides,” Ron joined in. “Quidditch.”

“Tell me about the raid,” Harry ordered, staring at them. “Tell me now.”

Hermione gave him a stern look. “Return back to bed and I will tell you all of it. Harry, you just suffered a serious injury. Pomfrey said you have to rest . You almost had to be transferred over to the Mungo’s, that’s how serious it was, alright? So why don’t you-”

“You better listen to Hermione, Harry. She knows the best.”

“Come on, back to bed with you.”

“No,'' Harry said incredulously. “Nope.” He almost laughed at how ridiculous this whole situation was.

“This is about Cedric, isn’t it?” Hermione’s face twisted. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Really, mate, first it’s Malfoy, now Diggory.” Ron snorted. “It’s not healthy to moon over blokes like that. It makes you look like a-”

“Ron, ” Hermione chastised and then turned back to Harry. “It’s alright to be worried about him… about any of them really. Cedric will be fine though. So will Sirius. So will the rest of the Order. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, it’s all good, listen to Hermione.”

“Listen to us , Harry. We want what’s best for you.”

“That’s right.”

“You think Sirius would want you to run out of Hogwarts at first sign of-”

“He definitely wouldn’t-”

Harry studied them for an odd second or two, weirdly bemused at the sight of them, morbidly fascinated even, enthralled for a moment too long.

And still they kept talking. As if he was the young version of himself. As if they didn’t even-

“It’s not like you can stop me.” He waved his hand, throwing a silencing charm at Pomfrey’s door before any of their words could reach her keen ears and then pried open the warding around the Hospital Wing so that he wouldn't trip it as he walked out. His hospital robe got transfigured into a long red wizarding robe as he walked down the hallway.

“Is Snape joining the raid?” he asked.

“Snape? What? Harry, wait-”

“He isn’t,” Ron said dismissively. “Of course he isn’t. He will be hiding away in the castle to keep his cover, the coward.”

“ Ron. ”

Harry nodded. “Good.” Without even moving his hand, he called up his Patronus. “Find: Severus Snape,” he ordered. “Tell him: Prepare the passage. I will be there in two minutes max.”

The Patronus disappeared through the floor, leaving him alone with the two very startled Gryffindors.

Ron frowned. “Harry, what-”

“That’s not Harry, Ron,” Hermione said. 

Harry just shook his head, turning to the nearest wall. He pressed his hand against it. “Open up, ” he ordered in Parseltongue, waiting for the magic of the Chamber of Secrets to reach out.

“ Wait, ” Ron yelped, grabbing his hand to pry it off the wall. The bricks that have barely started opening up snapped close. “You can’t just- where do you think- what do you think- do you think I will just let you walk off with Harry’s body?”

“Snap out of it, Harry,” Hermione pleaded. “It’s all just some kind of mind-” 

“Mind-fuckery.” Ron agreed. “Diggory’s messing with your head, mate.”

“There is no other explanation,” Hermione added. “It’s what I’ve been telling you this whole time. Time travel like that is not possible… it’s just not. All the books-”

“Diggory’s just trying to lure you out,” Ron continued. “He might… we’ve been thinking, he may actually be a Death Eater, you know.”

“Indeed.”

“A direct line to… it might be Voldermort himself messing with you again, you know. Planting these things in your head. These fake memories… Diggory and Snape helping him.”

“Yes, that connection Dumbledore’s been talking about, Snape might be actually making it weaker, as you said. You said it when you first started going to him, remember? You said it yourself.

“Yeah, remember, mate? So you better-”

“It’s dangerous, Harry.”

“It’s dangerous,” Ron echoed.

“What kind of friends would we be if we just let you go, Harry?”

“Yeah, we’re your best friends, mate. We won’t-”

That’s when Harry finally decided to speak up. “It’s funny how you say that. I haven’t talked to you two in years.” The words were coming out from deep within.

“What are you…? Harry, we’ve just talked before the Quidditch game, didn’t we?”

“We are talking now, mate.”

“And what is even funnier is that you don’t believe any of this future business,” Harry said. “You oughta-”

“Time travel like that is impossible!” Hermione interrupted angrily.

“Yeah, you can’t travel back in time without a Time-Turner. And there are no more of those left. They all got destro-”

Harry raised a shield around himself. 

Hermione squealed, the shield pushing her back a step. Ron put a hand against the solid invisible surface, pushing against it, then slapping it, then raising a fist against it.

“Out of the way, Ron,” Hermione said, taking out her wand. 

Harry paid her no heed. Confident in his shield, he turned his back to them and pressed his left hand against the wall, calling up to the Chamber. The bricks opened up, revealing a tightly woven staircase leading down to the dungeons.

“Don’t do it!”

“Don’t go, mate!”

“Ron, stop him-”

“I can’t! The shield-”

Harry walked right into the passage without a second glance. The bricks slotted back into place to build a solid wall, the shield dissipated and Ron and Hermione were left standing in front of the Hospital wing without a clue what to do. 

 

-

 

“Is this what you call two minutes, Potter?” Snape asked, trying to act unperturbed when the wall spat him out directly through the shelves full of potions. “Lucky you I didn’t trust your punctuality one bit, otherwise you would have missed the timed connection.”

“Is Bill waiting on the other side?” Harry asked, stopping in front of the fireplace.

Snape scoffed. “Of course. I wouldn’t be sending you through if he wouldn’t be. We do have connections inside Gringotts, but I doubt they would let you frolick into the depths of the bank without an appointment.”

“Nothing a few Imperiuses wouldn’t have solved if pressed,” Harry noted, staring into the depths of the dark fireplace. He ran a hand over his forearm, not feeling the ink under the cloth, but knowing full well it was there.

Do what you must…

Do what you must to end this… 

Do what you must to end this as soon as possible.

“Saint Potter? Using Unforgivables?” Snape drawled from behind him.

Harry turned over to look at him. “What? How do you think I’ve killed the Dark Lord? With a well-placed Expelliarmus?”

Snape squinted over at him. “Didn’t you?”

Harry gave him a smile. “I did actually. Funny, isn’t it?” He turned back to the fireplace. “I thought back then it might be the kind thing to do. To give him a chance to repent.”

Snape snorted. “The Dark Lord? Repent?”

Harry hummed, squeezing his forearm. “I might not have the time to do so this time around though. I might not have the time to do many things that I would have liked to do if truth be told.” He looked back to Snape, letting go of his forearm. “I need you to do something for me. For all of us.”

Snape was silent for a dreadful amount of time. “And what would that be?” he finally asked.

“When the fireplace comes on, you will walk through instead of me,” Harry said. “You will go to Gringotts, you will ask Bill to lead you to his secret chamber filled with horcruxes and you will set the chamber on fire with Fiendfyre.”

“And burn down the whole Gringotts bank?” Snape mused. “Whatever did the goblins do to you?”

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

“It’s the fastest way to destroy the horcruxes,” Harry said. “If you think you can be quick enough, Bill stashed a bunch of basilisk fangs somewhere in his lab, you can use those to destroy the horcruxes. It might be just as quick if you accio them all and redirect their path at each of those golder chalices Bill has the horcruxes stored in.”

“And while I’m doing that,” Snape said, his eyes narrowing. “Pray tell, what will you be-”

Harry was already two-three steps ahead of the conversation though. “The raid… what’s that all about?” he asked.

Snape folded his arms over his chest in disapproval. “Should I be surprised you know about this highly secret plan that not even I have all the details to?”

“What’s the raid-?”

“It’s meant to target a secret secondary location Death Eaters converge in… somewhere in Wales.” Snape sighed. “They’ve been wreaking too much havoc in the recent weeks, posing as an independent force of rogue wizards to cover for whatever the Dark Lord has been plotting. They’re too much for the Order to control, too much for them to prevent, none of this was within your notes apparently, so the losses- ”

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

“I waited for too long,” Harry realized. “I’ve… hesitated for far too long. And now it’s starting again.”

Snape just watched him. Watched him mule things over.

“Is he gonna be there?” Harry asked. 

Snape pursed his lips.

“Is he? Is Nagini?”

Snape remained silent, studying him cautiously. 

“He won’t then,” Harry concluded, nodding. “Malfoy Manor it is.”  He then stepped away from the fireplace. It started to send white sparks up the chamber, the connection opening instantly into white roaring flames. “Now, go.”

Snape did not move, his eyes glued to Harry’s face.

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

“Go on,” Harry urged, itching to-

Snape shook his head.

“If there ever was a time for you to listen to what I am saying, then now -” Harry started.

“You came to the wrong person to demand any of this.”

“Or I came exactly to the right person,” Harry argued, turning around to face him. “You said there are parts we are all meant to play…”

“Potter…”

“This is the part I’m meant to play,” Harry said sternly. “Will you help me or not? Dumbledore is too far behind, too occupied with his own plan. He won’t be able to help. He doesn’t even have the horcruxes confirmed yet. You do though. You know where they are, you know how to get to them, you can get to them and destroy them. Destroy them while I destroy Nagini and the Dark Lord. The time is running- Bill won’t help me, Cedric won’t do so either, but you -”

Snape’s frown deepened. He looked almost horrified for some reason. “I won’t help you either, Potter,” he said slowly. 

“Oh, but you will.”

“Not like this,” Snape said. “Not to let you go on a suicide mission. I’ve been protecting you all this time, what makes you think… no , what gives you the audacity to come to me and ask me to lead you to your death?”

“I won’t die. I will be protected.”

“So you keep saying,” Snape acknowledged. “But that’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Not again. Not ever.” 

Harry threw a nervous glance at the white flames in the fireplace, the time connection almost done running its course.

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

He opened his mouth, one last desperate attempt at the tip of his tongue. “If you ever loved her-”

“Don’t!” Snape barked, his voice hard as steel. “You think you can manipulate me into doing your bidding by bringing her up? By guilt-tripping me into doing whatever you wish me to do? Disguising your lies for her truths? Potter, you fool… you foolish child , you never knew her at all, you never truly did. Don’t presume you know what she would say… she would never… she would never let you do this. Never .”

A hush fell over the room, air sucked out of it, only the weakening crackle of the fire behind them reminding them of its existence. 

“Nobody else is dying for me,” Harry said sternly.

Snape just shook his head. 

“Nobody else,” Harry repeated. He took a step back and then leapt into the flame of the dying fire. 

 

-

 

Harry went from fireplace to fireplace - walking across a warehouse with hundreds of uninstalled electric fireplaces to find a second unwrapped one, waiting for the white flame to go off and on again at some long-forgotten shack by the sea, crossing ruins of an old castle to check for the one fireplace flickering with the bright white flames… until he reached on empty room with at least a dozen of them, this one with a small front desk with a chair still spinning slowly in circles.

He waited in the middle of it, waited for one of the fireplaces to open up, to offer a safe passage to Gringotts. And all the while, be it in the warehouse or at the ruins… he kept touching his right forearm, the one bearing the instructions from his younger self.

End it.

End it as soon as possible.

The truth was, Harry did not have to read the message stuck to his forearm to know what young Harry had decided. He had his memories right inside his mind - the moment Harry woke up in the Room of Requirement, how he uncorked the vial, how he watched the memory Harry has left behind for him, how he mulled it over… again and again, how he… it was all there up to the moment he took the bottle of ink, etched the message into his own skin and placed a Stasis charm on it. But a distant memory put into his mind by magic was something other than an actual remnant of it. And actual, tangible message. An instruction. A mission.

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

“I will,” Harry muttered, looking around the room, urging the fireplace to come on. “I will end it.”

And that’s when the white spark appeared. A smaller fireplace gilded in gold standing at the far corner of the room lit up. The white flame roared to life in a blinding instant, bathing the white room in even more white (if that was even possible) and revealed one of the private room at the Gringotts with Bill waiting for him right at the other side.

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

Harry walked to the fireplace, he walked right to it, ready to go inside, ready to be whisked to Gringotts, ready to fulfill his mission, the mission given to him by his younger self, ready to destroy the horcruxes Bill has been unsuccessfully experimenting on for months already, ready to (if time permitted) to run back to the nearest fireplace and let himself be whisked away to Malfoy Manor, to slay the snake, to offer himself up to Riddle, to die.

Harry stopped in front of the fireplace, staring right at Bill who beckoned him to jump through.

He hesitated.

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

He looked back at the empty fireplaces around the room, at their charcoal dark insides just waiting to be put on, just waiting to transport him wherever he wished to, wherever he needed them to.

He looked back at Bill. Bill who by now stepped in closer to the fireplace, who crouched down to it, squinting over at Harry with a puzzled look on his face, with contemplation.

Harry should just-

End it. 

End it as soon as possible.

Harry looked back at one of the empty fireplaces, squeezing his right forearm, squeezing it hard.

He should just-

End it. 

Just-

END IT.

“Harry?” came from behind him.

Harry turned back to the white fire, Bill’s head floating inside of it, looking up at him. “Coming? The flame won’t hold much longer.” He made a motion to move back, make space for Harry, but Harry did not move. He wanted to. He really did, the blasted message tattooed into his skin itching like hell, but he couldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

He didn’t.

Bill watched him for a second or two longer. “Thought as much.” He sighed and then moved his head to point out a fireplace to the right. “Try that one. It should let you go through ancient wards as well. Most of them anyways,” he said, throwing a sack of Floo powder through the fire. It landed at Harry’s feet, spilling over a bit. “Caeriw estate.”

Harry still didn’t move. “Carrows?”

“Yep,” Bill confirmed. “And you better hurry. They stormed it an hour ago and I haven’t had an update since.” And with that he disappeared, the white flame going off without a warning, leaving the fireplace empty.

Harry hesitated only for a moment - for a horribly long moment he just stood there, his jaw locked, staring at speckles of Floo powder lying motionlessly at his feet -a nd then the spell broke and Harry leant down, grabbed the sack and ran to the fireplace Bill pointed out to him. It was an old one, ancient insignia running all round the rim. Harry called out a blazingly hot fire that went up all the way to the chimney and then threw the Floo powder in. The flames switched to green, Harry leapt through and with a steady, determined voice called out two words. “Caeriw estate!”

 

-

 

The Floo network didn’t connect - he was supposed to come storming through one of the main fireplaces, but just as he reached the threshold, the magic redirected him to the next one, then the next one and the next one. When it at last let him through, his shoulder hit the soot-stained bricks inside of the chimney, somewhere near the very top of it and without any solid ground under his feet he started to fall down almost instantly. By instinct, he stretched out his hands, trying to wedge himself in to slow down or even stop the fall. The gravity was against him though, pulling him lower and lower, his palms flaring up with pain as they tried to find purchase against the bricks, his shoulder aching all the same.

He tried to reach out with his magic to soothe the pain, to slow down the fall. It didn’t react though. “Arresto momentum, ” he hissed, hoping the words might help guide it out. They didn’t.

He cursed, tensing up. His knees and his back joined the battle, slowing him down just about enough to not break anything once he hit the floor below. It was still a pretty jarring experience when his body met the ground.

Harry spilled out of the fireplace, coughing. His hands stumble upon a small object lying leisurely at the edge of the steel floor plate. Harry squinted down at it, recognizing the oblong shape, the plastic bow-shaped wrapping, the saturated yellow color - a Sherbet Lemon charmed into a Void object. 

He threw it deeper into the fireplace, making sure nobody else could come through the same way he did and then finally looked up - meeting the huge glistening eyes of two naked house elves, standing in the middle of the room. The soots were setting down all around them, staining them as well as him. 

“Oh, hi. Sorry about the mess. I’m look-” he started saying just as loud crashing sounds reached his ears. They were coming from somewhere up above. Muffled yelling followed as Harry whipped his head around, searching for a possible way up. There were no visible doors though, no windows, nothing. The only thing that could potentially lead out was the chimney he just fell down.

One of the house elves snapped his fingers, bringing Harry’s attention back to them. The soots disappeared in an instant, leaving only a wide dirty arc around the fireplace that was protected by the Void object inside of it.

The other house elf stepped forward, her big eyes locked on the scar on his face. She reached out a hand to him, waiting.

“Just a sec,” Harry said, concentrating - a charm covered his face, stretching up all the way to his head to engulf it in a mask in the shape of a phoenix - a uniform he had known the Order used back in the day to remain anonymous. Only then did he grab the hand of the house elf.

They were instantly transported into a dark green room with multiple doors on all the sides. The fighting sounds were coming from all around, Harry wasn’t even sure which way-

The house elf let go of his hand. The second one appeared right at her side. They raised their tiny hands in unison and pointed to the door at the far end of the room, its surface rattling under the onslaught of spells.

Harry nodded. “Thank you. Get back to safety,” he said, running for the door. He situated himself at the right side of it and pulled it open. The open door was immediately filled with curses - some flew through, some hit the wall behind and dispersed when they hit the surface. The same happened to the ones that slammed into the opened door. They just got absorbed in, the ancient wards over the walls shimmering lightly as they did so. 

Harry watched them shimmer for a second longer, then reached over and gripped the threshold with his hand, pulling the wards free of it to slide right behind them. They squeezed him tightly, protecting him from whatever was to come his way. 

And so he ran into the ballroom, keeping to the left wall as he did so. Curses hit the wards protecting him. Curses from two Death Eaters on the right side of the room, curses from a couple more that were clustered on the left side. The wards held strong though.

There was a shout from the other side of the ballroom. Out of nowhere, a small yellow object flew his way, a Lemon Sherbet landing at his heels, the Void object blocking the curses from the right side. It didn’t affect the wards much. They were too strong.

The Death Eaters on the right side yelled as another Lemon Sherbet landed right between them. They pulled back to the end of the ballroom.

Harry looked beyond the mess of pillars and spotted two members of the Order crouching near the hoard of stone, marble and bricks - the ceiling was all gone above them, the wall revealed the high trees outside, remains of a pillar coming upwards a meter or so in height.

They shouted his way, their voices concealed behind their masks and then threw a bunch of spells at the cluster of Death Eaters. Then there was a quiet pause in their casting and a dozen or so Lemon Sherbets flew into the air. The Death Eaters yelled in alarm, commanding a bunch of rocks from the rubble all around to block their path. The Sherbet Lemons ricocheted off them, falling down in between the two groups, creating random pockets of magical void. The Death Eaters started to viciously cast through the space to find out the free channels of magic within the room, cursing each time the spells disappeared into thin air. There were still a few free channels though, especially near the wards around the room where the void couldn’t reach.

By then Harry was already almost at the opposite side - having run along the left wall, around the corner and then through the back wall - when a door whipped open revealing three more Death Eaters. The two Order members shouted a warning. They were too busy with the other group to help though.

“Got it!” Harry yelled, yanking at the wards to pull them across the opened door as he ran through them. He glanced at the three Death Eaters, watched them cast their spells, but none of them reached him, none of them reached the ballroom, the wards holding strong. 

With the opening sealed, Harry ran from the safe nest of the wards and crouched next to the two Order members - one of them was crouching behind the base of the pillar, protecting the other one who was trying to dig through the pile of rubble with his bare hands.

“Status report,” he snapped, reaching over to strengthen the Protego charm erected in front of them.

“Got one stuck under the rubble,” the one behind the pillar said, his voice unrecognizable. “Can’t levitate that shit away, cos there is a void object stuck right beneath. It’s-”

Harry glanced over at the pile of rubble. “Any signs of decay from the Void object?”

“None so far,” the Order member said desperately. “It’s been… I keep trying to cast magic at it every couple of minutes, but it won’t budge-”

“We’re not falling back, if that’s what you're about to suggest,” the other Order member said, dislodging a huge piece of rubble out of the pile - the pile quivered, some of the smaller stones at the top rolling down, but otherwise it remained steady. “Not without-”

“All of us or none of us,” the one said, ready to fight him on it.

Harry just nodded, giving it a quick thought. “I’ll decay the Void object. You’ll levitate the rubble when I tell you to. Cover me?”

Both of them gave a terse unsure nod. “How…?” one of them started to say, but Harry was already running up to the wall the pile was leaning onto, climbing up - partially hidden by the pile itself, partially covered by the Protego raised up at the front, by the Sherbet Lemons in the middle of the ballroom and by the spells flying from the other two wands on his side of the room. 

He climbed higher and higher, his palms in agony, his knees creaking as he tried to find purchase on the small stones on top of the rubble. The hole in the wall was close now, he could see the coniferous trees just beyond it, their tops swinging wildly in the wind outside. The wind was kept out of the ballroom by the shimmering wards covering the hole.

Harry climbed to the very top, reaching out to grab them and then jumped down, taking the wards down with him like a tightly spread out parachute.

The Death Eaters on the other side yelled, casting a set of curses his way - the Protego shield between them collapsed in an instant. Another one took its place almost instantly, but it soon collapsed as well. There was a pregnant pause and then a dozen or so Lemon Sherbets flew in the air blocking off the few remaining channels the Death Eaters could cast magic through. 

Harry landed at the base of the pile, pulling at the wards, grunting as he pulled them lower and lower. They passed through the top layer of the rubble.

“Levitate the top layer off! Now!” Harry yelled, holding onto the wards.

Both of the Order members shouted a quick “Wingardium Leviosa!” The rubble above the wards levitated in the air, shooting out through the hole in the ceiling.

It was then that the Death Eaters on the other side realized they could just throw shit their way and the air was suddenly filled with flying rubble. 

The Order members cursed as their collective Protego shield collapsed. “Protego Maxima!” Both of them shouted at the same time, erecting another one.

Harry pulled at the wards, drawing them a meter or so lower, but the Void object stopped his advances right there, pushing at the wards, dissolving them on spot. He could feel the taunt magic weaken, he could feel it falling apart in the middle as the opposite energies battled.

“Levitate!” he yelled and the two order members cast a quick “Wingardium Leviosa!” before returning to their main task at hand.

Harry gave one more pull to see if the Void object wouldn’t decay at the onslaught of ancient magic pressing up on it from above, but it didn’t, it held strong, the pile protected, the body underneath doomed to be trapped forever.

Harry gripped the wards tighter and channeled what magic he could find within him right into them, strengthening them, mending them back up to press against the Void object, forcing it to tighten its perimeter, making it smaller and smaller. The wards sank lower revealing a substantial amount of rubble to the next Levitation spell. The Order duo cast it without second thought.

With most of the pile out of the way now, one of them ran back in, scanning it, looking for their third member. He looked over at Harry and shook his head. 

“Can you uncover more?” he asked.

Harry sank down, bracing his feet at the base of the pile. He pulled the wards lower, the wards practically falling apart around the Void object but every time they were almost at their limit, Harry poured in more of his own magic, as much as the funnel would let through, as much as the underage lock would let him - more and more, until the wards glowed bright and golden, the ancient magic rearranging itself around him, weaving a strong new weave on top of the old one, sinking lower and lower, destroying the Void object, making it obsolete.

There was another shout of “Wingardium Leviosa!” and then a body revealed itself lying crumpled on the floor in front of them a wrapper full of yellow glinting dust near the leg.

Harry let go of the wards, scrambling up to his feet. The wards that were supposed to jump back to the ceiling folded up around them, creating a bubble of protection, making the duo abandon their posts and run to the body as well.

“Fuck,” one of them cursed when he saw the mangled body covered in the shimmering glamour of the Order uniform.

“Fuckitty fuck,” the other exhaled, standing above the body in shock.

Harry reached the body last. He was the first one to touch it though. He reached over, pressing his fingers against the side of the neck while simultaneously casting a few diagnostics on the unmoving body.

“Alive,” he summarized. “Barely though.” He turned to the two Order members. “Got any healing potions?”

They shook their heads. “Fuck, no, we-”

“We only brought-”

“Why did we only bring shit like-”

“We should have-”

Harry turned back to the body. “I should be able to do some basic healing, before-”

The wards crashed down around them right at that moment, victorious shouts filling up the ballroom. The door Harry barricaded with the wards just a few moments earlier got swarmed by Death Eaters, the other group cutting off the escape route back to the green room.

Harry shouted, protecting the fallen Order member with his own body as the curses started to fly. The other two leapt into action to keep them safe, but there was no time for them to create more void objects and their shields were weaker by the second. So were their counter curses for that matter.

“Cover us!” Harry yelled, grabbing the body and pulling it to the nearest fireplace as quickly as he could. He kicked the Lemon Sherbet lying inside of it aside, erecting a fire as soon as the Void object was out of the way. “You good to get out on your own?” he yelled at the pair of Order members.

“Go! Go!” they urged him. “We’ll be fine.”

Harry nodded, throwing the remainder of the Floo powder from Bill into the fire. 

“Block the fireplace!” He heard a Death Eater shout, but before anybody could do anything, the ballroom got enveloped in absolute darkness. Harry used the moment of confusion and backed up into the fire, the body flush against his own as he thought of home.

 

-

 

They swirled through the green fire, the flames licking off the Glamour sticking to every centimeter of their bodies, devouring the nondescript red robes, the swirling phoenix masks - the magic concealing their true selves. Harry closed his eyes as it washed over him, concentrating on not losing the body in the fiery windwhirl that tried to pry it off him. He cradled it tightly to his chest, feeling an echo of a distant heartbeat…

Alive.

Barely though.

They spilled out of the fireplace, Harry’s back cushioning the fall. The world around them was supposed to stop spinning then, but for Harry it didn’t. The hook in his navel used the momentum of his body, trying to pull him away before he could fully refocus, before he could even-

But it was fine. He could let it. They were safe. Help would swing by any moment now. They would come running, wands held high, potions ready, They would take the dying body weighing him down, they would take it and put it back together, they would take care of it with-

Nobody else was going to die.

Nobody else.

And then he could go, he could let the hook-

Harry opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling as the hook tugged at him, almost gone, almost ripped out of the present time. Except-

That wasn’t the ceiling of Grimmauld's place, no. It was the cottage Harry inherited all those years ago, dark and empty.

The hook tugged at him again, insistently, trying to yank him away, but Harry refused to listen, opening his mouth to croak a tired: “Help.” 

Nothing happened.

“Help!” he yelled, the hook relentless now. “HELP!”

Nobody answered, not even a house elf and Harry knew, he knew that if he left now, if he’d let the hook take him away the person in his arms, the-

He looked down.

Looked down at the sandy brown hair, the peaceful blood-stained face, the mangled body.

“Ri-?” Harry wheezed out, choking before he could even spit out the remaining letters of Cedric’s name. “Rickie!?” he repeated, his arms shaking. 

He rolled over, laying Cedric on the floor, pushing his hand against his chest in a foolish attempt to feel his heart. He didn’t feel anything though, he was too out of it, staring down at the stiff cold body just lying there motionlessly as it did way back. Back when-

Ringing in his ears.

Hundreds of hands clapping.

Voices cheering. 

A distant trumpet tune swelling up behind it, loud, way too loud.

“Let me through. Let me through!”

“That’s my son! That’s my boy!”

Harry being pulled away, the body tugged away from him, from his careful hands.

“This is not where you want to be right now, come on.”

“I can’t leave him,” Harry heard himself argue. He felt himself fight the pull.

“Come on.”

“I won’t leave him,” Harry insisted, clinging to the body. “I can’t.”

The tug grew more insistent, the hook drilling inside of him in retaliation, the pain almost unbearable. It cost him every speck of energy left to not lose himself to the pain, to not faint right there and then. 

Nobody else was going to die.

Nobody else.

 

“Nobody else.” Harry gritted his teeth against it, sliding both of his hands over the front od Cedric’s shirt, tracing along his sternum. His injured palms left bloody stains over the already bloodied shirt, skin torn open, hurting. Harry honed in on that pain, using it to round himself in the present, using it to black out the hook in his navel. He only has seconds left, milliseconds even.

Closing his eyes, he turned to his exhausted magical core, the funnel tiny as a pinprick, unyielding when he asked for it to channel his magic, but he reached inside anyways, prying it open with an urgent plea, with a desperate hope, pressing against the sides to widen it up, encouraged to swell up into its full vastness.

And then he started to cast, muttering a string of healing spells - to slow the flow of blood to prevent death by exsanguination, to clear all the  residue inside the wounds, to begin to heals them up; to set the bones, to knit the muscles… on and on until he had nothing more to give, nothing more to fix, until Cedric’s breath turned deep with peaceful sleep, until the pained frown on his forehead eased up, until the wrinkles around his downturned mouth disappeared. It was only then that Harry finally stopped fighting against the hook in his navel and let it whisk him away, the thought of Cedric safe and alive enough to calm his troubled mind. 

Chapter 17

The hook in his navel was like an anchor holding him up near the surface of a vast ocean - close, so close, but too far from the air up above. The saltwater rose up in a giant wave swallowing him up whole, the pressure within its innards pushing out the air from his lungs, setting his nerve endings on fire with its gastric juices, squeezing him so hard he couldn’t move a muscle.

A wave passed through him and then the water went down a little, the air rushing in to greet him, allowing him to take one small breath in. And then another wave rushed through, swallowing him up like a hungry whale sucking in helpless heaps of plankton.

He struggled to breathe in, the air pressed out before it could even settle inside of him, struggled to move a muscle to fight against the current, struggled to swim back up - the hook held him tightly in place, allowing him a bare minimum of air between the waves torturing his body, ripping it one way or the other, claiming him for their own.

Ah, I’m never gonna-

“Potter,” snapped a commanding voice, bringing him out of his feverish unconsciousness.

Harry took a deep breath in, sputtering halfways through as if he really had been drowning for hours upon hours with no end. His hands twitched. Water, lapping against his skin, was rising , rising higher … he pushed himself upwards, as if searching for air, desperate for it.

A hand at his shoulder steadied him as he shook, the vertigo and confusion receding, but the pain-

“Breathe, Potter,” Snape ordered, squeezing his shoulder.

His nerve endings flared up upon the touch, the immense pain bringing him back to reality. Harry looked over at Snape, at the wet greasy hair hanging limply around his face, at the dark squinted eyes nestled in noticeable eye bags… and then looked around, recognising the girl’s bathroom on the second floor, flooded, partially destroyed. The memories trickled in slowly - same and yet so different.

“Fuck,” he breathed, sagging back into the shallow waters around him. 

“Language, Potter,” Snape chastised. 

“Did you send Myrtle away?

“Yes.”

“Okay. What was it that worked?” Harry wondered tiredly, pressing a hand against his chest. Pain flared up at the touch, grounding him in more.

Pain was okay.

“A combination of various things,” Snape replied slowly. His hand tinkered with the empty vials lying around. 

“Ah those… and healing spells?” he wondered idly. “Mentis salvo? Recuperate totalum? Den-”

It was better than nothing.

“A myriad of those,” Snape confirmed.

Harry sighed, kneading at his templed. His skin burned under his fingers.

I can ignore the pain. 

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Snape asked, studying him.

“Sorta,” Harry admitted. 

“Is that why you attempted to end things quickly the last time you blessed us with your kind presence?”

“No.” Harry lifted his hand searching for a possible message on his forearm although he knew there was none this time. “No, that’s not why,” he repeated. “Might as well have been though.” He rested his arms on his stomach. It hurt.

I can ignore it for now. 

They spent a few silent seconds resting on the floor.

There are more important things to take care of.

“He’s fine, isn’t he?” Harry asked. “They’re all fine, aren’t they?” he added, hoping for a confirmation although he knew that to be true. “For now.”

“Shouldn’t you know? You said you’re getting updated on the recent events as you appear in the present,” Snape noted. “Which is of course why I think it’s getting harder and harder for you to regain consciousness each time.”

“Ah, so I’m overloading Harry’s mind?”

“You have a weak mind, Potter, no matter how much I try to change that. It won’t be-”

“Wow, thanks.”

“It won’t be able to keep working like this forever, no matter how much magic we pump you up with. Time travel takes its toll.”

“Ah… you ever did?” Harry wondered idly. “Time travel?”

Snape was silent for a moment. “I tried to.”

“Oh.”

“Suffice to say I did not succeed. Not like you seem to be succeeding.”

Harry pursed his lips. “Doesn’t feel like it. Doesn’t feel like success at all.”

“Merely a feeling, I’d wager.”

More important things…

Harry looked over at him. “Well… not for much longer, I think. As you said, it’s… it is getting harder for me to come to. At some point I-” He paused. “What do you think is going to happen?”

“If it’s getting harder and harder for you to find purchase in this body, what do you think will happen when it becomes impossible?” Snape drawled, shaking his head. He turned to the overflowing sinks and flicked his wand, stopping the water. He repeated the same process on the busted pipes in the corner. 

Harry sighed, pushing himself up to a seating position. His body screamed, but he grit through. “Well, I’m obviously not as empty-headed as you’ve always thought me to be then.” He tapped his temple, a pained grin on his face. “If I was, then this obviously wouldn’t be happening.” 

“Ten points from Gryffindor.”

“For?”

“For mocking a member of the student body.”

“Ah. Not for fighting?”

“Another ten off then.”

“Are you gonna take some off Malfoy too?”

Snape got up, spelling his robes dry. “Mister Malfoy has enough to worry about.”

“That’s true.” Harry sighed, pushing himself up to stand as well. He commanded his magic to dry him too, but it did not respond as readily as he would have liked. His sleeves did not stop dripping water at all. 

More important things…

“I slashed him up so bad the last time,” Harry muttered, looking around the room, seeing two memories at once. “With Sectumsempra . From the Half-Blood’s Prince’s book.”

“I really should be taking off points every time you open your mouth, Potter,” Snape noted, flicking his wand in Harry’s direction. The dripping stopped, his sleeves suddenly dry and steaming. 

“You are welcome to take more off. Make it a challenge,” Harry offered. “Not that it-” He paused. “Didn’t Gryffindor just win the Quidditch cup?”

Snape scowled, stashing his wand away, his arms coming up to fold over his chest. “The last match did not take place yet.”

“Ah, well… ten more points off then?” Harry guessed.

“Ten more indeed.”

“For damaging the school's property.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Precisely.”

More important things.

Harry looked over at him, the grin falling off his lips. “Draco’s trying to repair a Vanishing cabinet that’s been left broken in the Room of Requirement. He will succeed soon. Bring a bunch of Death Eaters through…”

“The Felix Felicis.”

“Played no role in it last time he succeeded in doing so,” Harry admitted. “It won’t do us any favors though… him having it now.”

Snape hummed, lost in his own thoughts.

“So… what are we going to do about that?”

“About what?”

“You know what his mission is. You know. You took an oath to…”

Snape squinted.

“And Unbreakable Vow,” Harry clarified. “Tied to Narcissa Malfoy.”

Snape did not say anything, but he did look very unimpressed. With a jerky wave of his head, he beckoned Harry to follow him out of the bathroom, leading them down to the dungeons. Harry hobbled after him, every step like walking on a bed of needles, his nerve endings protesting.

I can ignore it , he told himself again, as long as I-

“... Draco.”

Harry blinked. “What was that?”

They were standing in the hallway, right in front of the door to Snape’s private quarters.. 

“I said, you don't have to worry about Draco. I shall take care of it.”

“How?”

“I will watch over him, protect him from harm and make sure he doesn’t fail in his endeavor,” Snape stated as if it was obvious.

“The endeavor though…”

“... is ultimately the same as ours, isn’t it?” Snape noted and then swung open the door. “To survive. For his loved ones to survive.”

“Right,” Harry said, hobbling though only to come face to face with Cedric, who was already standing next to a brightly lit fire. The white flames licked his skin, painting it in a tired pale color, reflecting angrily in his eyes. He studied Harry for a silent moment, then his eyes flickered over to Snape in some sort of silent question and Snape nodded, handing him four dark-tinted vials.

“You’re fine” Harry whispered, his voice weirdly hoarse. “Oh, but I knew that.“

“Let’s just go,” Cedric bit off, disappearing in the flames before Harry could even finish his question.

Harry shot a confused glance at Snape and then unsatisfied with his ability to read anything more into it, followed through the Floo connection.

He came up through to a brightly lit meadow, right under a mild slope of a hill where a crumbled-up fireplace stood solitary between low-rising saturated grass and high conifer trees. The grass surged in to greet him as a warm breeze whooshed past him, racing up the hill. The lazy stream of water below glistened underneath the sunshine, interrupted by a tiny white cloud only to come back in like Christmas lights on a fir tree a moment later.

“Rickie?” Harry called, searching for the familiar shape.

He found it trotting up the hill, disappearing behind the countless high conifer trees towering above them, further even-

“Would you mind waiting a bit?” he huffed, but Cedric kept on walking, his pace quick. “Rickie!”

“We don’t have much time,” reached Harry’s ears. “A tight…” was all he heard before the wind snatched the words away from him and carried them over the hill.

Harry grumbled, following behind. 

“Would you just-” he started, pain flaring up in his body as he trotted up the slope of the hill, winding his way deeper into the tree line. “Rickie.”

Cedric didn’t pause. His silhouette disappeared behind the peak of the hill. 

“Would you just wait for a second?” Harry called up, speeding up as much as the ache deep in his bones allowed.

He caught up to Cedric just as he was reaching a cottage at the bottom of a small valley, its surroundings covered by ripe forest strawberries. 

“Honestly, what’s gotten into you?” Harry huffed. “Why won’t you…?”

“What’s gotten into me?” Cedric said, turning around sharply. He stalked in closer to Harry, squishing some of the strawberries in his path. “Do you really have to ask?”

“Is this about me saving you back at the Caeriw estate?” Harry asked, confused. “Because that’s not-”

Cedric’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?” His laugh was more of a bark than anything else. “Do you truly think this is about you saving me?”

“Well, you do have a thing about wanting to be the hero, which is fi-”

“And you don’t?”

Harry frowned. “I do. I have to have it.” He shrugged. “That’s not really relevant here though.”

“Not relev- Merlin , I-'' Cedric turned away from him, pressing his palm against his mouth. Wind rushed around them, caressing the tiny strawberries dancing around their feet. “I can’t- I can’t do this now. I’m way too fucking pissed off.”

Harry shook his head. “If you’d just tell me what’s bothering you, I’d-”

“You’d what, Haz? You’d do what ?” Cedric rounded up on him again. “Will you finally listen to what I have to say? Will you finally do what I ask of you? Will you stop trying to off yourself at every damn opportunity ?”

Harry blinked. “I wasn’t…” He paused, the winds pausing with him. “I wasn’t trying to off myself.”

“Oh, so you weren’t planning to run straight to Gringotts and destroy all the horcruxes the last time you were around?” Cedric barked, pointing an accusatory finger at him. 

Harry pursed his lips.

“And that wasn’t even the first time you wanted to do that, I might add. You thought Bill wouldn’t have told me?” Cedric demanded. “What about during the thing at the ministry? What about all the others?”

Harry stayed silent.

“I don’t hear you denying any of it.”

“There isn’t much to deny,” Harry said, his tone stubborn. 

“Oh, so you did plan to destroy all of our hard work and then off yourself,” Cedric summarized. “On multiple occasions. Fully aware of-”

“In my defense-”

Cedric snorted, stepping away from him, his arms settling folded over his chest. “Well, this ought to be good.” 

“ In my defense ,” Harry repeated. “It wasn’t my decision.”

“Whose was it then? Because it sure as hell wasn’t mine,” Cedric said. “Whose? Dumbledore’s?”

“Well, not exactly.”

“Then whose?”

“Harry’s.”

Cedric shook his head. 

“It was the only logical thing to do,” Harry tried to explain. “Who better to decide what needs to be done? Who else to decide my-”

“Literally anybody other than a traumatized, conditioned teenager,” Cedric hissed, his arms flying out in a mad gesture. 

“Now, come on, Rickie.”

“Don’t you Rickie me.”

“It’s his future we’re talking about.”

“Not yours?” Cedric wondered. “Not ours?” He waved his arms around as if there was a crowd of people encircling them. 

“There won’t be any future for any of us, if I don’t do this.”

“There will be, if we just- if you just- ”

“There is no other way-”

“Why? Why can’t you just trust -”

“There isn’t,” Harry argued.

“But why- ?”

“Because that’s just- that’s just how things need to be. How they are, how- that’s who I am, who Harry is. You can’t change me! You can’t change him! You can’t change us. We will, both of us, we will always choose this above anything else. We will always choose to sacrifice ourselves if it means saving innocent lives. Always!”

“Isn’t your life-”

“Rickie.”

Cedric pushed through regardless though. “What about your life, Haz?”

“I’m not losing my own life doing this. I am saving all of yours, can’t you see?”

“You’re not losing-? Merlin.”

“No, Rickie, of course not. He can’t kill me, he literally can’t. Once he throws that curse, it’s- he’s just going to kill his own soul fragment, none of it will touch me. It’s the quickest way to end this, to save you all.”

“How is that even…” Cedric shook his head. “So… it’s that- the protection left behind by your mother?”

“Yes? It’s her love actually, but you know…”

“Her love…”

“Essentially, yes.”

“And that’s still active, because you were left behind with those relatives of yours.”

“Mom’s sister, yes.”

“They kept your mom’s love alive by… how exactly ? Because there was no love for you in that household, I could see that much at least.” Cedric said.

Harry sighed. “Well, it’s a blood sacrifice, if we have to be really specific about it. Me staying with my blood relatives keeps it alive, yes.”

“How do you know it’s still active when you’re in the body, Haz?”

“It’s not like me being inside changes the blood itself, does it? Plus on top of all that, Riddle used my blood to resurrect himself, so there’s that as well.”

Cedric frowned. “Wait, is that why you…? Is that why you said it needed to happen? Is that why you absolutely had to grab the Triwizard cup?”

“Yes. If I hadn’t he wouldn’t have used my blood and things would get tricky.”

“What the fuck,” Cedric whispered.

“With my blood coursing through him, the blood sacrifice is enhanced especially towards his own person, which is why-”

“It’s a killing curse nonetheless, Haz. A blood sacrifice or not-”

“Which is why I also…oh.” Harry patted his back pocket, checking for his wand. 

“Oh, what?”

“Nah, it’s… maybe not that important,” he said, pulling his hand away. 

“Haz!”

“No, wait,” Harry said, lifting a finger. “I really think it doesn’t… I think the blood sacrifice and me actually going there of my own volition should be enough.”

“Enough? Haz, wha… wait. So it being a noble sacrifice is important?”

“Err… sure.”

“And does it still classify if you know you’re not gonna die?”

“Of course it does,” Harry grinned. He reached out for Cedric, grabbed his hand, squeezed it reassuringly. A flash of pain surged up his arm, the tips of his fingers going numb under the pressure. He grimaced. “Of course I-”

Cedric stared at him, waiting - his lips pursed into a tight line, his cheeks heated up from the sun above them, from the anger racing through his blood, his eyes… his eyes suspiciously…

“I’ll-,” Harry stuttered, looking down at their joined hands instead. “I’ll be fine.”

“And by fine you mean that you’ll become unable to find purchase in your own body soon anyways so what’s the big deal in risking it all?” Cedric wondered idly. “Is that what you mean, Haz?”

Harry fell silent.

“Or is it that you’ll erase yourself from the timeline because there won’t be any reason whatsoever for the future you to even attempt going back to the past? Is this why nothing matters to you?

“Things do matter to me,” Harry argued.

“It’s just you that don't matter, is that it?”

“Rickie…” Harry repeated for the umpteenth time. “I’m just-” He shook his head, unsure what to say. 

Cedric squeezed his hands silently, the motion making Harry flinch away. Cedric startled at that, letting go of him almost immediately. He watched him hold his arm out of reach. Watched him grimace as his nerve-endings refused to calm down.

“You’re in pain,” Cedric guessed.

Harry sighed, shrugging.

“Remus said you’d be... shit . There’s not much time left, is there?”

Harry gave him a look, remaining silent still.

“And I just wasted a bunch of it on…”

“Rickie…”

Cedric ripped his eyes away from him, shaking his head. His eyes fell upon the dim interior of the cottage nearby. He brought up his wand, casting a quick Patronus charm. “Find: Bill Weasley. Tell him: Missed connection at the strawberry patch. Restart in two minutes.”

The sparrow flittered up, passing through the moss-covered roof of the cottage, disappearing to deliver his message.

Cedric beckoned Harry to follow him inside, the wooden door creaking under his touch, the old parquets inside joining in as they stepped on them - when a glowing weasel patronus jumped up directly from beneath their feet. It opened its tiny mouth.  Bill’s voice came out of it. “Better not be a Death Eater trying to infiltrate Gringotts. I’ll throw you down the track if so.”

Cedric snorted, walking through the room to stand in front of the dark fireplace. Harry walked up to stand right beside him, his eyes trained down at the scattered pile of ash.

“Haz?” Cedric asked suddenly.

“Yeah?”

“I keep wondering… you kept me alive for all this time… again and again you save my life.”

Harry frowned. “What are you…?”

“Why… if you don’t let me… if you don’t eve n let me…what’s the point…?” Cedric sighed, shook his head and went silent.

“I saved you so that you can keep on living,” Harry reasoned, looking over at him.

Cedric laughed at that. “But what’s the point of it?”

“The point of you living? Rickie-”

“Yes, Haz, what is the point?” Cedric wondered aloud, wrapping his arms around his chest. “If there is no purpose for me to serve in all of this? If there is nothing I can help improve? Nothing I can make better for this new world you’re creating? What’s the point of me surviving if nothing changes because of it? If you won’t let me change anything?”

Harry stared at him, uncomprehending. “You living alone is for the better,” he said immediately. “You don’t need a purpose in all of this for it to mean something.”

“It means nothing if I can’t-” His voice clicked as his throat constricted, leaving the sentence unfinished. Cedric exhaled harshly, swiping his hand over his face. When he looked over at him, there was resignation painting his features stiff.

“I wish you’d just-” He didn’t finish that one either, just started to turn away, tight-lipped, high-strung. 

Harry reached out for him, putting a hand on his biceps. “Rickie-”

“I understand, you know. To an extent at least. I really do… why trust me ?”

Harry squeezed his shoulder, the pain coming with it be damned. “Rickie… I trust you.”

“So you keep saying and yet…” Cedric shook his head, turning to watch the tiny sparks of a white flame collecting over the dark ashes. Harry turned to watch them as well, his hand falling off Cedric’s biceps. It was too painful to keep it there for much longer.

“I do trust you,” he repeated as the flames kindled slowly into existence. “I wouldn’t have given you the list if I didn’t.”

Cedric laughed, kicking the ash to prompt the flames to grow quicker.

“I wouldn’t have,” Harry insisted. “Rickie, you’re- you’ve saved so many people. You are making such a difference, can’t you see that? You’re the true-”

“You know what I find weird?” Cedric asked as the flames roared up, painting them both ghostly white. His eyes were set aglow. “You say you trust me and okay, you do, but just with everybody else. You don’t trust me saving you though. Don’t trust me with improving any of these shitty circumstances for you. You fight me tooth and nail every time I try. Every time I dare to even suggest it.”

Harry stared at him, silent.

“Well, tough luck, Haz. I won’t stop trying,” Cedric said. “I won’t. Your name has been officially added to the list. And now it’s your turn to be saved… willingly or not.”

With that, he pushed Harry through the white flames, letting them whisk him to Gringotts.

_

 

Bill did not waste any time on pleasantries this time around and once they entered the secret chamber adjoined to his laboratory, it became clear why he didn’t. It also became clear why Cedric was in such a hurry to get them there, why the Floo connection has been that strict with time.

When Harry entered the chamber, he came face to face with one of the chalices that had been empty ever since the beginning. It was no longer empty. The chalice meant for Nagini was filled with a massive snake writhing in the air. She bumped against the wards as she noticed them, her mouth opening to reveal sharp fangs dripping with venom. It splashed against the wards, the venom sizzling as gravity pulled it down to collect innocently at the bottom of the glittering chalice. 

“Traitorsssss,” she hissed. “Traitorss, give me a tassste of that flesh of yoursss.”

Harry froze, watching her slam her thick tail against the barrier. She twisted, the coil of her thick body pushing restlessly against the wards. 

“What have you done?’ Harry said, horrified. He turned to the pair standing at the side of the contraption. “What have you- he’s gonna know now.”

“He’s not,” Cedric said. “Not yet. Maybe not even later on. Nagini was sent on a mission and as far as he knows, she’s-”

“He can dip into her mind,” Harry argued, gesturing angrily. “What makes you think he doesn’t already know? Rickie, you just-”

“We’ve encased her mind,” Bill said. “It’s just a different kind of wards. Ragnok helped us set it up. It won’t hold for too long, but we only need a bit more time to-”

“But-”

“We’ll obliviate her afterwards if need be. Implant fake memories.”

“But-”

“You left us no choice, Haz,” Cedric said sternly. “Neither did You-Know-Who for that matter.” He turned back to Bill, bringing out the four vials he had received from Snape earlier. “There are too many discrepancies now. We had to take some radical steps to get this done as soon as possible.”

Harry’s jaw set stubbornly. “You’d risk everything just to do it your way? You’d risk the only advantage we have over him?”

Cedric looked over at him. “I would.”

“We all would,” Bill joined in. “It wasn’t just his own decision, you know. I’ve been getting eager to solve this as well.” He pocketed three of the vials, opened the one remaining in his hand. When air hit the pale lilac substance within it, it turned clear, its content shimmering lightly in the dimly lit chamber.

Harry frowned. “The Draught of Living Death?”

“Worth a try, don’t you think?” Bill said, guiding the content of the vial into Nagini’s gaping mouth. She didn’t even have time to struggle against it, the liquid flying through the one-way wards right down her throat. She recoiled, twitching back, but the draught was already inside of her, already working its magic.

“If you can’t move your magic far enough for the soul fragment to stop being interested in it, we might as well snuff it out as well as we can, make it almost invisible for the fragment,” he said, as they watched Nagini’s body grow slack under the influence of the draught.

“And then offer it something that will outshine it by tenfold.” Bill brought out the soul stone. “Throw in the juicy bait,” he said, depositing the stone on the pedestal in the middle of the contraption. Its light traveled down the golden line, filling up the chalices at the end, lighting them up. “Wait for the soul fragment to latch on, eager to feed,” he continued, looking up to watch Nagini’s motionless body. There was a faint outline of a shadow right above her, a ghost of a body.

“Don’t worry, we forced the rest of them to lay dormant with some of the basilisk venom,” he added quickly. “It's just this one for now. We’ll go full in, oversaturate it with soul matter until it becomes corporeal, until it detaches from the horcrux, until it stands on its own as a whole person.” The light dimmed, sucked eagerly from the chalice, filling up the shadow floating above the motionless snake - the unclear shape of it grew in mass, grew in dimension, bulking up like a jumping castle pumped up by air, swelling up to its full height, full weight which remained small regardless - small and distorted, like a starved-out child. The dark, hazy colors slowly shifted up to actual colors - the face growing lighter, gray, almost sickly, the robes detaching themselves from the body into multiple layers of dark green. Tattered ends of the fabric dropped down, swaying in the lazy movement of the body gaining sudden consciousness. And then Tom Riddle opened his eyes, the snake-like slits reacting to the light by constricting into thin strokes of blackness. His eyes found Harry first, taking him in eagerly. 

“The Boy Who Lived,” he hissed at him, a sneer distorting his features. “ And his merry band of blood-traitors ,” he continued, taking in the faces of Cedric and Bill respectively. He opened his mouth again: “What are you…” the words sizzled out as his eyes inevitably tracked down Bill’s arm, to the soul stone, the contraption below it, the chalices connected to it, Nagini lying curled up beneath him.

Rage clouded his face. “You dare touch my treasuressss, you filthy half-breed!” he hissed, leaning forward to press his malformed hand against the ward. The ward shivered under the touch, under the onslaught of freed up magic that pressed up against it.

Harry didn’t even get to react, didn’t get to say a word, to move a muscle even - Cedric whipped up his wand, turning it against Voldermort’s small disfigured body. “Stupefy!” he yelled, the one-way ward letting the spell through. It hit Voldemort square in the chest, flinging him back against the back wall of the ward. His eyes remained open still though. “Stupefy!” Cedric cast one more time, wiping Voldemort’s consciousness away with the second flick of his wand. 

“Bill?” Cedric called out, not turning away from the unconscious body within the wards. 

“Just a bit more,” Bill noted, watching the chalice underneath Nagini flash as it kept on feeding.

Bill then took the stone off the pedestal and walked over to the chalice holding Nagini. He cast a myriad of diagnostic charms on her, on the body floating above her and then stepped away. 

“Okay, go for it,” he said, waving his hand at the chalice, his eyes glued to the charts in front of him.

Harry watched Cedric grip his wand tighter. He slashed it through the air, directing one of the basilisk fangs straight at his chest, piercing it through his heart - the flesh around it sizzled up, the bubbles spreading to the tip of his fingers, tips of his toes, until there was nothing left of the body but a formless glob.

“Dead,” Bill noted, watching the diagnostics connected to Voldermort go haywire as the chunks of his body started to float apart. He then waved his own wand, vanishing everything in the chalice except for Nagini, the diagnostics connected to Voldermort vanishing together with the remaining parts of his body.

Cedric lowered his wand. “Well?” he croaked out, glancing over at Bill, who was studying Nagini’s charts.

“She seems stable for now,” Bill remarked, squinting over at the graph. “As stable as somebody under the Draught of Living Death can be really.”

Cedric exhaled a shuddering breath, his eyes not leaving Bill. Harry stepped to his side, reaching over to enclose his tightly gripped fist in his hand, pain be damned. They both watched Bill bring out the three vials again, squinting down at the labels. He then uncorked one of them, feeding it to Nagini. Harry squeezed Cedric’s shaking hand.

Nagini’s body convulsed then.

Bill’s eyes flickered over to his charts. “Stable still, just the nervous system restarting, nothing to worry about.”

And then, as if enchanted by a snake charmer, Nagini’s head rose up, her eyes blinked open and her body started to slowly uncoil.

“How is she?” Cedric asked impatiently.

“Everything points to normal on my end,” Bill announced, watching the charts. 

Cedric’s fist loosened up. His wand slid out of his hand, clattering on the chamber’s floor. The sound startled Nagini, making her rear back with a menacing hiss. “ Releassse me thisss inssstant !” she cried.

Harry stepped forward, eying her. “ How are you ffffeeling ?” he hissed at her, studying her twitchy movements.

Nagini paused, her movements slowing down. “ Ssspeakear ,” she hissed, her eyes suddenly glued to him. “ Thisss chhhild isss a ssspeaker ,” she repeated, tilting forward. Her nose touched the wards. “ I ssshall not be entchantent by yout fitthhhy wordsss, ssspeaker or not, I only know one massster. ”

“ Do you know whattt wass done ttto you ?” Harry asked her.

“ Ttrapped by traitorsss ,” she hissed angrily. “ Trapped by fffilthy humansss. Releassse me and I sssshall bless you with my venom, chhhild. It would please my masster ssso to sse you gifted witttth ittt. ” She started to sway one way and the other as if she was trying to enchant him with her dance to bring him in closer, to sway him to walk through the wards into the venomous embrace of her jaws. “ I ssshall release you fffrom the pitifful exisstencce you call lifffe, chhhild. Poor cripled thhhing. It’sss mercccy. Mercccy. ”

“ No, thhhank you .” Harry snorted, turning to Bill. “Seems lucid to me. As lucid as a fanatical snake can be, I guess.”

Bill sagged back. “Merlin,” he exclaimed, a relieved smile blooming up on his face.

“You did it,” Cedric breathed from beside Harry. 

“We did it,” Bill corrected him, dismissing the diagnostic charms standing in his way. “You, me, Snape. Harry to some extent - we fucking did it!” he reached for them, clapping them both on the shoulder. Harry squirmed, the pressure flaring up over the nerve-endings throughout his whole back.

 “How about we celebrate that one by stabbing the shit out of the rest of them?” Bill offered with a laugh. “I don’t need them as backup anymore.”

They both nodded.

 “Awesome.” Bill grinned, snapping his wand to accio the basilisk fangs from his lab up front. “And then we can tackle the one inside of you, Harry.”

Ultimately, destroying each of the dormant horcruxes was a rather unexciting matter - Harry grabbed the basilisk fang offered to him, walked to the closest chalice that held the diadem and stabbed it. The gems exploded outwards like popcorn, ricocheting away from the wards around the chalice. The precious metal sizzled around the fang, bubbling up to envelop him in hot liquid that turned too black too fast. There was a weird sort-of moment as it bubbled angrily and then it all fell down, dead.

Harry lifted his head, watching Cedric stab the locket. It didn’t even open, it didn’t even offer him the glimpse of his fears, it just sizzled up the same as the diadem did and after a very pregnant moment it died out as well.

Bill took care of the ring in a similar manner.

All that was left was the Hufflepuff cup. Only when Harry approached the last inanimate object with Cedric on his right and Bill on his left did he realize: “We should have maybe tried to extract the soul fragments from each of these,” he wondered aloud. “To preserve the artifacts.”

Bill shook his head. “I don’t really have that much soul matter available to me,” he said. “Besides, we agreed to only do one each - Ced with Nagini so that I can monitor her, and then I’ll do yours while he watches over you.”

“Yeah,” Cedric confirmed.

“Two murders are more than enough.”

“Didn’t feel like going on a killing spree, did you?” Cedric joked with Bill, but his smile was a bit too strained. It reminded Harry of the crooked smile he was stuck with right after the second task.

“Nah, not my cup of tea, but speaking of cups.” Bill gestured at the chalice in front of them. 

Harry nodded silently and without any more words got rid of the cup. He watched it sizzle up, feeling rather… “Well, this is all kind of too anticlimactic,” he noted, staring down at the melted puddle of gold. “Last time I did this, it was just… so much more dramatic.”

“Was it?” Bill asked.

Harry looked up at the chalices around. “Neville cut up Nagini with the Gryffindor’s sword,” he said pointing at the hissing snake.

“Wow,” Bill remarked.

“Think that’s how the ring was destroyed as well, with the sword,” Harry continued. “Not before Dumbledore put it on, cursing himself to a certain death.”

Bill lifted an eyebrow at that.

“We did the same to the locket. Well, Ron did… it showed him some pretty crazy shit before he could do that though.”

“Like what?” Bill wondered.

Harry grimaced. “I’d rather not tell.”

“That just makes me more curious, you know.”

“Err right, well, me making out with Hermione for starters. Tongues and all.”

It was Cedric’s turn to lift an eyebrow. 

“Wild,” Bill noted.

Harry just shrugged.

“What about the rest?” Cedric wondered.

“Let’s see.” Harry looked around. “Stabbed the cup with the basilisk fang. Ron and Hermione did that one. Shared their first kiss over it.”

“Well, if I had known these suckers played such an important role in Ron’s love life, I would have maybe kept them alive for a couple more months at least.” Bill laughed at that. “They’re never gonna get together now.”

“Just give it time,” Harry said. “I’m sure they’ll get there eventually.”

“What about the diadem?” Cedric asked, pointing to the sad silver puddle. 

“Fiendfyre in the Room of Requirement. We destroyed the room for good too,” Harry said. “Glad we could avoid that one this time around, that’s one useful room to have at Hogwarts.”

“It sure is,” Bill said.

Harry gave him a look.

“Please,” Bill said, grinning. “Who do you think the twins got it from? Not from our parents, they didn’t.”

Harry smiled.

“We should get a move on,” Cedric said. “We need to do this while Haz is still here. The potion was brewed specifically with him in mind. We wouldn’t wanna disturb the delicate balance of it. The risk-”

“Let’s do it then,” Harry agreed, crawling into his chalice without a second thought. 

He sat down in it, folding his legs in front of him, leaning back against the protective wards set up around the chalice. Bill nodded, handing the two vials over to Cedric and then turned to get ready - not that there was much to get ready for. He just had to walk to the middle of the contraption and bring out the stone together with his wand.

Cedric approached Harry, squatting down in front of his chalice. With a careless wave of his hand, he cast the needed diagnostics, displaying a myriad of screens at Harry’s left. Harry surveyed them for a brief moment, noting his elevated heart rate and then turned to Cedric.

“Ready?” Cedric asked, handing him one of the vials - the one containing a light purple potion.

“I’ve been ready to get rid of the fragment for ages,” Harry said, reaching for it. His hand collided with the wards.

“You don’t have to worry, you know,” Cedric said.

Harry snorted. “I’m not worried.”

Cedric pushed through the wards, handing him the vial. “I’ll keep watch. I’ll make sure you wake up.”

Harry brought the vial to his lips, but paused before the potion could touch his lips. He wasn’t even sure why he had stopped in the first place. He wasn’t-

Both of their eyes slid over to the diagnostics, to the heart monitor flashing a bright orange color. 

“I’m not worried,” Harry repeated, feeling petulant. “I’m not.”

Cedric gave him a kind, patient smile. “Ah, just excited about getting the antidote, aren’t you?”

Harry frowned at that, pulling the vial away from his lips. “I guess? What-?”

“Err,” Cedric looked down at where he was fiddling with the vial of Wiggenweld potion. “Just- never mind. Go on.” He waved his hand dismissively, refusing to look up. 

“Wait.” Harry squinted. “Are you referring to the Snow White ripoff of a story?”

It was Cedric’s turn to be confused then. “Snow White?” He looked up. 

Harry leaned forward. “You know. A sleeping princess. Woken up by the true love’s kiss.”

Cedric pulled away. “That’s- that… it was the antidote that brought her back, not love though.”

Harry just shrugged, grinning. “Ah, was that it? So… no kissing then? I thought that’s what you’ve been hinting at with all that-”

“If that was a requirement, then one of us would have had to kiss Nagini, you know.”

Harry snickered. “I’m sure there is a market for that kind of porn somewhere.”

Cedrick shook his head pointing at the vial forgotten in his hand. “Just drink the potion, Haz.” And then turned to monitor the diagnostics next to the chalice - the previously orange bracket glowing somewhere between green and yellow now. 

Harry brought the vial to his lips, drinking the content of it in one fluid motion - it tasted salty, like the liquid left over from a jar salt-brined cucumber pickles.

“See you soon, Rickie?” Harry said, watching Cedric’s profile. His limbs were quickly turning to lead, its weight pulling him quicker than he was ever able to fall asleep. His eyelids fluttered tiredly - heavy, way too heavy to resist.

“See you soon, Haz.” Came a whisper, a gentle touch on his knee. 

And Harry wanted to reply, but his tongue felt too heavy as well now. He knew that he would be off within the next few seconds, but before he could do that, the hook lodged deep inside of him acted up, ripping him away from the body before he could fully succumb to the effects of the potion.

Chapter 18

Harry should have known that there was something weird going on when he felt no dizziness or pain as he woke up next, but he managed to gaslight himself into thinking it was because of some very clever solution either Cedric or Snape came up with while he was away from his body - something magical, something that got rid of the negative effects of him settling into his younger version.

It wasn’t that though.

It was because he wasn’t in his body at all.

There were no stimuli.

There was nothing at all.

When he finally pried his eyes open, he found himself looking up at a shiny white ceiling up above and he knew, he knew where he was , because that wasn’t an actual ceiling. It wasn’t. It was just rows upon rows of light stacked upon each other, masquerading like a ceiling, masquerading like an actual place - a hideous version of his own personal purgatory, hiding behind the pretty mask of the King’s Cross Station.

Harry took a shuddering breath. He couldn’t even look at it. He closed his eyes, covering his eyelids with his forearms, hoping to wall off the bright light, hoping for it to pass, for his mind to jump back to his body, but nothing of the sort happened. Not even when he reached out to dig his fingers into his navel, hoping to stir the hook inside of him into action. It didn’t do shit. He couldn’t even feel it. 

He dug in deeper. It was as if the hand wasn’t his, the guts inside his stomach unexisting. As if he wasn’t there at all. Not really. Just a-

Just a ghost.

“You’re real,” he gritted out. “Just get up. Just walk out like you did before. Come on.” He couldn’t move though. What he had was not a real body.

“There is still stuff for you to do.”

He couldn’t even open his eyes. Eyes? What eyes? Did they even exist?

“You’re not done yet, come on.”

It was too much.

Too little. 

“Get up!” he barked. He rubbed at his eyes hoping to get some feeling into them and realized - he didn’t even have his glasses! This fucking purgatory version of him didn’t even have his glasses. How was he gonna-

How was-

Maybe this was hell after all.

He looked around, expecting to see Dumbledore somewhere at the end of the platform, but of course Dumbledore wouldn’t be here in this new version of reality. He wasn’t dead.

Dead like… him?

Did the Draught of Living Dead kill him? Or was his mind unable to find purchase in his young body any longer? Was he-

He walked a couple of steps, the surroundings did not move a bit. 

There wasn’t even a bench with a bloody mutilated body of Tom Riddle anywhere. Nothing just pure light streaming aggressively around, blinding him, aggravating him-

He-

He couldn’t even-

Harry covered his eyes again, the light piercing through his hands, illuminating them red. He could still see it. Even if he couldn’t feel a thing, he could still see it, he could still -

He could still-

Harry dropped his hands back down, squinting into the light.

“Is this-” he croaked out. “Is this it?”

There was nobody to answer his question.

“Is it?” he repeated, gazing into the bright light. “Am I-? Am I done? I am not done. I am not. Let me go back.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“Let me go. I need to go back.”

He didn’t have to breathe.

“I need to.”

He didn’t have lungs to breathe into.

“Take me back.”

He didn’t even have a throat to speak from.

“Take me back now.”

No tongue to form words.

“ Come on.”

Nothing.

“Reverte.”

Nothing.

“Retipio!”

NOTHING.

“RENERVATE!”

And then the reality around him distorted, the hook ripping him out of it with the intensity of a meteor crashing into the Earth’s atmosphere and Harry fell, he fell and burned until he hit the surface of the Earth, until he hit the ground, found purchase in his body and inhaled his first breath in what felt like hours.

He could feel it. The stale air at the tip of his tongue, the burn it caused going down his windpipe, the explosion it fueled in his lungs. He felt each molecule of it. 

“Harry?” came Remus’ gentle voice.

“Haz?!” he heard Cedric call.

“Harry!” Sirius joined in.

It was too much. Too much. Their voices rang in his ears, piercing angrily through his eardrums, traveling deep inside his brain to set it alight with pain. 

It was horrendous. 

It was beautiful. 

“He’s in too much pain,” he heard Sirius say. “We should use the potion.”

“Not without his consent,” Remus argued.

“Not without- does he look like he is able to give consent right now, Moony? He can’t even open his eyes. We need to-”

“I said not without consent,” Remus growled.

“Let’s just ask him then,” Cedric proposed.

A hand gripped Harry's shoulder, the contact setting an onslaught of firecrackers along his skin, molten iron needles driven deep into his body, piercing him through and through. Harry sobbed, fighting between the instinct to rip his shoulder away and the enjoyment over actually feeling the touch. 

“He’s in too much pain,” Sirius repeated. “We should-”

“No! I said-”

“Let me talk to him,” Cedric urged. “Let me.”

There was a gentle shuffling noise of somebody moving around the furniture piece he was curled up on and then Cedric's voice came from directly above him.

“Haz?” he asked gently.

Harry took a deep breath in and forced himself to uncurl his aching body, pull his hands off his ears, pry his eyes open. The room around him was darkened up for his benefit, a heavy shadow hanging over the countless rows of books lining each of the walls around them, ceiling included. Harry looked up, taking in the books hanging above, the gentle rustling noise of their pages being ruffled by a non-existent breeze. He took another breath in and then focused on the source of Cedric’s voice, which turned out to be the Two-Way Mirror Remus was holding over the backrest of the chaise lounge Harry was lying on.

“Hey,” Cedric greeted. His hair was messy, his cheeks reddened from the heat of the sun pouring around him. “Good to have you back.”

Harry squinted into it. “Hi,” he rasped back.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Harry said. 

Cedric laughed at that. “Of course. Remus has a special potion that should help with the pain if you’d be interested?”

“There a but ?” Harry looked at Remus over the mirror, zeroing in on the milky dark potion bottle he was holding in his fist.

Remus nodded, holding it out carefully. It was evident he was trying to not stir or shake the content too much.

“It’s the Molten-Sun potion,” he explained. “Or it will become the Molten-Sun potion once I shake the content to activate it.”

“Don’t know it,” Harry admitted, blinking. 

“No reason for you to know it,” Remus agreed, his face unreadable. “It’s an experimental anesthetic.”

“Ah.”

“So far only used on unwilling subjects of crossbred origin.”

“Ah.”

“I doubt it will ever be used on wiz-” Remus paused, shaking his head. “You see what it does is: it burns through your body, paralyzing all the neural endings and magical pathways in your body, so you will be left-”

“With no magic,” Harry summarized. “ With no feeling ,” he said, the realization chilling him to the bones.

“Only for a-”

“Don’t want it,” Harry said.

“Only for a couple of hours,” Remus finished. “The magic will return after that and so will the sensations. I am sure Harry-”

“Give it to Harry then,” he said. “Once I leave. If the body is still in pain.”

Sirius frowned at that. “What good does wallowing in pain do?” He scoffed. “Just take the potion, kiddo. You can barely move as is. How-”

Harry grit his teeth, pushing himself up to a seated position just to prove a point, just to glare at Sirius who was standing at the end of the chaise lounge. “I said no,” he bit out. “Not taking that shit.”

“It’s his choice,” Remus reasoned. He leaned to the side to stash the vial away carefully. 

Sirius did not look all too happy about it, and so Harry decided a change of topic would be in order: “So, where are we at?” he asked, looking up in search of the mirror. 

Remus leaned back over the headrest then, holding it out to him. “Don’t you know?” he asked. 

“Yes. No.” Harry shook his head, leaning heavily back into the lumpy pillow. “I don’t know. The horcrux-” He patted his chest. “The soul piece is gone, isn’t it? I can’t feel… much else right now. Other than pain, which-” He shrugged.

It hurt to move. It didn’t matter if he just took a small breath in, if he just swallowed a drop of saliva. Each miniscule movement felt like torture. And yet he could not stop moving. He could not stop feeling it, feeling the exhilaration of being alive. No matter how horrendous it felt, there was a certain note of a masochistic ecstasy to it. 

“Yes, the extraction worked,” Cedric confirmed. “It would have worked better if you didn’t decide to leave the body just as we started the ritual, but we made due.” He grimaced. “Well, Bill made due.”

“I didn’t-” Harry started. “I wouldn’t- anyways … now all that is left is to kill him then, right?”

Cedric gave him a silent look.

Remus tilted his head. “How much do you actually remember of what has happened after the horcrux thing?”

Harry thought about it. “Err, there’s not much to be honest. I usually- I do get updated on stuff, but you must know it’s like- the memories come in already feeling old. Would you remember the mundane stuff of today in ten years from now? No. So there’s not much.” He took a pause to swallow around the pain. “I could tell you the things that didn’t happen? That I think didn’t happen, at least.”

“And those are?” Sirius asked curiously.

“Hogwarts was not invaded.”

“Should it have been?” Remus wondered. “How?”

“Asking as if I didn’t manage multiple times before.” Sirius grinned. 

“You had knowledge of internal workings-”

“And Voldermort doesn’t?”

Harry looked over at Cedric. Cedric spoke up without prompting, his eyes glued at something behind the mirror. “Dumbledore did not die, for one,” he said, causing a few eyebrows to go up. “Draco did not lead Death Eaters into the castle. He should have, shouldn’t he? Severus-”

Harry blinked. “Ah, did Snape…?”

Cedric shook his head. “Or… I mean, he did have something to do with it, but from what I heard, it was the Felix Felicis that turned the tides on that one.”

“How?” Harry wondered.

“How,” Cedric repeated in a mocking tone. “I’m guessing he’s not that different from all of us, after all, is he? He just wanted to protect those he cared for in any way he could. In your timeline he had no other choice but to play You-Know-Who’s game. In this one the Felix Felicis opened up a second path for him.”

Harry stared. “Which was?”

Cedric looked down at him. “He used it to purge his ancestral home of all the foreign bodies, You-Know-Who included.”

“Oh.”

“That was pretty smart of him, not gonna lie,” Sirius noted. “Just to boot them out like that.”

“Malfoy Manor went on total lockdown,” Remus confirmed. “I’m guessing that was the only way the Malfoys could make sure they’d remain safe.”

“It inspired a lot of other purebloods to do the same to avoid Voldemort’s wrath,” Sirius said, grinning. “Fucking cowards.”

“Played into our cards though, didn’t it?” Remus said. “It doesn’t matter if it was out of fear of him or out of self-preservation. They went into lockdown, taking themselves out of the game. It’s better than helping him.”

“So now…” Harry started, feeling his heart thunder in his chest. “Where is he now?”

“We don’t know,” Remus said.

“If we did know, he would be dead already,” Sirius added. “It’s not like we would wait around for your time-traveling ass to drop back into existence to kill him. There’s plenty of us who want him dead, you know? Get in the fucking line, Potter. ”

Harry glared at him. “None of you are destined to kill him though. You’d fail.”

Sirius grinned over at him. “I’ve been defying destiny ever since I crawled out of my mother’s dusty womb. The more often you tell me to drop something, the faster I will chase after it.”

“Yes, I do remember that being exactly what killed you in my original timeline,” Harry bit off. “So you better drop it before you end up dying in this one too.”

“Make me, Potter,” Sirius said, his teeth sharpening up menacingly.

“You guys, really?” Remus sighed. “Can we just- ? Let’s concentrate on the matter at hand. Which is: while the offer to kill him is very generous, Harry, it’s very much unnecessary. Also currently quite impossible to achieve unless you’d know where he might be hiding?”

Harry pursed his lips, thinking. “I don’t know,” he said after a while. 

“Well then, that settles it, doesn’t it?” Sirius barked out. 

Harry ignored him, turning over to Cedric instead. “There might be a few places worth checking though. He doesn’t do things at random. There is a reason he kept returning to that forest in Albania when-”

“Forest in Albania?” Sirius wondered aloud. “And that’s not random?”

Harry pursed his lips. “It’s where he found the diadem. It’s where he met Quirrell. It’s where he returned after Quirrell died. Where Peter Pettigrew found him.”

“We don’t think he left the country,” Remus said. “Not by magical means that is. I can’t imagine him getting a boat or using the Eurotunnel, can you?”

“Not Albania then.” Harry shrugged. “But any other place possibly connected to Hogwarts, any- actually… I think… I think now would be a good moment to brief Dumbledore on the whole thing.”

Cedric shook his head.

“He’ll know,” Harry reasoned. “He’ll know where he could be hiding. He could help.”

“He will find him and bring you to fight him, we’re not doing that.”

Remus and Sirius shared a look at that but said nothing.

“We’ll stick to the current plan,” Cedric insisted.

“Which is?”

“Try to find him ourselves,” Cedric said. “Kill on sight.”

Harry felt his jaw tighten. “Is that what you’re doing out and about? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you using his stupid nickname. Trying to track him down all by yourself?”

“All by myself? Of course not,” Cedric snorted. The mirror started shaking as he got up from where he was sitting down. 

“We have multiple teams searching for signs of him,” Remus explained.

“See?” Judging by the familiar creaking sound, Cedric opened a door. The mirror revealed the interior of the shack in the strawberry field that they have once used as a way station and two people sitting on the dusty floor. “I’m not all by myself.”

“Ah, he up?” Mic asked, jumping off the floor to peer into the mirror. “Your future boy!”

Cho’s face appeared on the other side. “Hi, future Harry.”

“Oh, hi.”

“I told them,” Cedric confessed.

“That’s fine,” Harry said.

Cedric grinned. Mic pushed them both effectively out of the view then, asking: “So what should I invest in in the following years? Hit me.”

“Google,” Harry said right away.

“Goo-what?” But Cho managed to pull him out of the view before he could finish the question. “Hey, that’s quite important, you know,” they all heard him complain in the background.

“See? Not alone,” Cedric repeated.

“Still,” Harry said, pushing himself to stand up. His muscles burned when he did so, multiple cramps raising up throughout his body. 

“Whoa, kiddo,” Sirius yelped, jumping in closer.

“Harry,” Remus chastised, reaching for him as well.

Harry waved them off. “It’s fine,” he insisted, straightening up carefully. His knees quivered as he did so, but he managed to withstand it. He turned to Remus then. “Get me a connection to join Cedric?” he asked.

“I don’t think-”

Sirius barked. “You can barely stand as is.”

“Besides, there is no time for you to-” came out Cedric's voice.

“The closest Order team then,” Harry insisted. “I can be of help while I’m still here. I can-”

“You just admitted you have no idea where Voldemort could be,” Sirius reasoned.

“The connection you had with him is gone,” Remus added. “So it's not like-”

“You should rest,” Cedric joined in.

“Indeed!” Sirius’ voice rose. “Look at yourself, kiddo, you will be useless like this.”

Harry clenched his jaw, looking over at him. “Not your kiddo. Not your Harry. You have no authority over me or what I-”

“Oh, that’s how it is. Well, I have authority over my Godson and that body you’re damaging with your unwanted appearances is his , not yours,” Sirius said. “So sit your ass down before I make you.”

Harry glared.

“What Padfoot means to say,” Remus soothed quickly. “Is that you are our Godson, so-”

“Speaking of Godsons,” Harry said, staring Sirius’ way. “There is one other thing that did not happen this time around, you know.”

“Like?” Sirius challenged.

“Moony marrying Tonks.”

“How is this any relevant?” Remus tried.

Sirius stilled, his eyebrows pulling into a frown. “Tonks,” he repeated slowly.

“Oh yea, Nymphadora Tonks,” Harry confirmed. “The Metamorphmagus. I’m sure you-”

“Can we get back to the-”

“My cousin,” Sirius looked over at Remus, who just stood there in shock. “A year after my supposed death.”

“Got pregnant not too long after that too.” Harry hummed. “Guess I won’t have a Godson this time around.”

“That-” Remus started, reaching for Sirius, but Sirius just shook his head, shot a disgusted look Harry's way and disappeared from the library, the door slamming closed behind him. The books all around shook with it, tilting out of their positions dangerously close to falling off and then remained there, closer and more oppressing, their spines creating uneven jagged edges along the previously tidy walls.

Remus turned to Harry. “Was that really necessary?”

Harry tilted his chin up and said nothing.

“We’re just trying to help, you know.”

“I don’t need your help,” Harry said.

“We’re still going to try.” Remus shrugged, turning the mirror to face him. “I’ll go find Sirius.”

“Go,” Cedric said. “I’ve contacted Miriam. She should be there soon. Hopefully she’ll have enough time with him to figure something out.”

“That’s if you manage to persuade him to stay put,” Remus noted, giving Harry a pointed look.

“Might as well try,” Cedric said. “Open up the wards for her?”

Remus nodded at that, offering the mirror to Harry. “All yours then,” he said. “Have fun.” And with that he left the room, his departure much less dramatic than Sirius’ has been. The books around him quivered at the soft thud the door made upon closing, but they did not return to their original positions.

As soon as Remus left the room, Harry gave up all pretenses and lowered himself back down at the chaise lounge, his body too exhausted and achy to keep him up any longer.

“Haz?” Cedric spoke up.

Harry ignored him, closing his eyes as pain pulsed through his body - an entourage of micro cramps burning up and down his muscles. He tried to breathe through it, hoping it would pass quickly and when it didn't he just let it unfold. It was better than nothing, he told himself. Better than-

“Haz,” he could hear Cedric call. “You good?”

Harry opened his eyes, looking up at the books hanging above by the corner of their withered pages, hanging precariously as if ready to dislodge at any moment.

“No,” he croaked. “I’m not good, Rickie.”

He didn’t dare to look over at the mirror clenched tightly in his hand. Partly because he was worried he wouldn’t even be able to lift it up anymore, partly because he didn’t want to see what kind of expression Cedric was making.

“You can still have the potion if it’s too much, you know,” Cedric offered slowly. “I’ve seen Remus put it in a wooden box at the back.”

“I can’t.”

“Haz, if it’s about the lack of magic-”

“It’s not,” he admitted. “Not really. I don’t really need magic to kill him, you know. I could probably just get a gun to-”

“What is it about then?”

Harry glanced over at the mirror, at the outlines of Cedric’s face reflected under the surface. The light streaming around him suggested he had moved back out of the cabin, away from prying ears, away from-

“The last time I died, there was this place...” He paused.

“A place?” Cedric prompted.

“An empty place,” Harry continued. “Riddle hit me with the Killing curse and I died. I ended up in this… place . But it wasn’t a real place, it was just… pure light, everything was just light, you know?”

Cedric hummed softly in acknowledgment.

“I thought… I couldn’t believe it of course, I thought it was all just in my head, because: you know the moment when you’re trapped in a nightmare and you’re trying to wake up, so you start pinching yourself, but it’s not working because you can’t exactly hurt yourself by whatever you're doing in a dream and then you start to panic and you-”

“Ah, the potion paralyzes nerves,” Cedric said. “It rids one of all the feeling.”

Harry hummed in affirmation.

“But if the alternative is this much pain,” Cedric wondered. “Wouldn’t it-”

“It’s happening again,” Harry interrupted him.

“What is?”

“The white place, I-” Harry took a breath in. “I got stuck there just now. If I feel nothing, it… what if I am still there somehow?”

Cedric fell silent. “Are you sure you were there again?” he asked, his voice hushed. “Maybe it was just a dream, maybe you were just reliving the same memory from back then.”

“This was not a dream,” Harry said. “No hallucination. I was really there again.”

“What is it then? The place? Some sort of afterlife?”

“Or maybe it's just in my head.” Harry quoted. “Why would that mean it’s not real?”

“If it’s in your head, then you should be able to leave it like you did the last time. That’s what you said, wasn’t it? That you decided to leave and it just let you go.

“I tried, but it didn’t work like that this time.”

“What did then?”

Harry remained silent.

“Haz, what was it that worked?” 

“I think we made a deal. Me and the place. We- I asked it to let me go. I told it there are still things I need to do, things I am destined to do.” Harry blinked. “And it decided to let me go. For now.”

“So as long as he is alive, you will be allowed to return? Is that what you’re saying? Haz…”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted. “Maybe I just- maybe I just- Rickie, I-”

The door creaked open, Remus’s head appearing in the thin crack. “Miriam’s here,” he announced.

“Right,” Cedric said, throwing his hand up in the air. “Right, well… I didn’t get to it yet, but I guess we’ll just hit the ground running with this one.”

Harry lifted the mirror. “This one being?”

And then there was a woman walking through the door, her healer robes fluttering behind her. Harry recognized her almost immediately. 

“Healer Strout,” he greeted, trying to push himself up into a more put-together position.

“You know her?” Cedric asked.

“She’s the one that healed the Longbottoms,” Harry answered before he could stop and think about it. “I don’t think we’ve met this time around though. Not yet at least.”

“Ah.” Healer Strout smiled as she stopped right in front of him. “Well, good to know I’ll succeed soon enough. Augusta will be happy to hear that all her donations to the Janus Thickey Ward paid off eventually. And Neville… well, the boy deserves his parents back, doesn’t he?” She smoothed out her robes and then folded her hands over her stomach.

Harry nodded wearily. “I- yeah, that-”

“Mr. Diggory has informed me of your predicament Mr. Potter,” healer Strout said in lieu of a greeting. “And after some deliberation I decided to take on the task of trying to help you. That is if you yourself agree to it.”

Harry smiled, giving Cedric a side-eye. “I’m not sure- “

“I assure you there is nothing to worry about in terms of secrecy. I am a healer and I intend to keep my Oath no matter what you decide to disclose.”

Harry pursed his lips. “I think your skills might be a waste here, healer Strout,” he said.

“I am a mind-healer and your mind is traveling through time and having trouble finding purchase in this current body of yours, am I incorrect?”

“That is precisely why I don’t need a mind healer, ma’am, but a time-travel expert, wouldn’t you say so too?”

“Haz,” Cedric spoke up.

Harry ignored him.

“For your mind to find purchase-”

“Ahh, but you see, I don’t need to be able to find permanent purchase in this body,” he noted. “By doing that I would essentially kill the mind that usually resides in it, wouldn’t I?”

“I’m guessing that’s all but a crude dramatization of your situation voiced to intimidate me?” healer Strout challenged.

“Well-”

“From what I understand, you do not know what happens to the younger version’s mind when you’re in the body. The young version does not remember the time you are inside but that does not mean it’s gone. It might be lying dormant somewhere deep, we might be able to learn how to call it to the front, how to let you two coexist while you are present, possibly make sure you are present for longer time than until now, possibly keep you both present in the body until the time catches up to you and you would be able to merge into one coherent mind in which case time travel itself would be taken out of the equation and so would the repercussions tied to it.”

Harry opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Err,” he managed to say in the end. “I see you came prepared.”

She nodded. “Now to be fully clear with you, these are all just theories on my part,” healer Strout said. “I can not guarantee they are right, nor can I guarantee they won’t change in the course of my involvement. What I can do though is promise to try, shall you agree.”

Harry looked over at the mirror.

“Might as well try, right?” Cedric said.

Harry pursed his lips.

“Haz,” Cedric tried again. “You said-”

Harry pressed the mirror against the material of the chaise lounge, silencing Cedric. “I appreciate you taking the time out of your busy schedule to come see me,” Harry told healer Strout, “but I can’t consent to this in good conscience.”

“Ah,” she commented, nodding. “Am I entitled to know the reasons behind your decision, Mr. Potter?”

“You have more important things to do with your time,” he answered.

“I assure you-”

Harry looked up at her. “The boy deserves his parents back, doesn’t he? Sooner rather than later.”

Healer Strout pursed her lips.

“There’s people in your care waiting to be cured. They’ve been waiting for a long time,” Harry said. “Harry Potter is not one of them, healer. Harry Potter will be fine. He will keep on living a fairly happy life even without your help.”

Strout gave him a long look. “I don’t suppose you know how I healed them, do you? That might carve out the time out of my busy schedule you so desperately wish to refuse.”

Harry gave her a sad smile. “I’m afraid I don’t know how you accomplished any of the medical wonders you did, but I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

Healer Strout inclined her head. “Well then, Mr. Potter, it’s been a pleasure.” She took a step away. “Remember to give me a call should you change your mind.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told her as she disappeared from the room. Only once the door closed behind her, only once he was sprawled over the chaise lounge, only then did he lift the mirror again.

Cedric’s eyes jumped to him, his jaw clenched. 

“You sent her away,” he said accusingly.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Cedric shrugged. “Why?”

“You know why.”

Cedric looked over the mirror, his eyes straining to see something in the distance. “You know what?” he said then, shaking his head. “I think. I think I better go, Haz. I’ll- There’s-”

“Don’t go,” Harry called out just when Cedric was about to move out of the view.

Cedric paused, a gentle exhale escaping him as he turned to face Harry again. “You don’t want me here,” he said.

“Rickie…”

Cedric just shook his head, turning away. “I don’t want to fight. All we do is fight, Haz.”

Harry was not sure what to say to that.

“And I won’t apologize for that,” Cedric continued. “I won’t. I’ll fight you as many times as I have to to get through that thick skull of yours, but… the time will be up soon anyway and I-”

“It’s fine, Rickie.”

“No, it’s not, Haz. It’s not fine! You’re more than just a sacrifice to be made for all of us to survive.” He turned back to Harry, gazing into his eyes. “You’re more than that, Haz. You know that, right?”

Harry shrugged, looking away. “I’ve never been anything else,” he admitted slowly watching the book spines in front of him change colors. “And I’m… I’m alright with that, you know?” He shook his head. “There’s not much for me to return to even if I could go back… or forward in this case I guess, so maybe-” He looked up at Cedric then. “I’ll take care of Riddle. And then… maybe it’s time to just let it all catch up to me then. Just leave it all behind once I’ve-”

Cedric shook his head. “What about your family?” His eyes darted over Harry’s shoulder as if expecting to see Remus and Sirius standing there.

“I’ve never had anyone to call family. Not for long enough for it to stick at least.” He sighed, trying to remember when was the last time he even talked to any of them. The memories of his future felt murky. They had felt that way ever since he first landed in the past. “Those that remain feel so far from me - the orphaned boy whose parents I let die, because I wasn’t fast enough? The girl who had to give up hers, because I was unable to do this thing on my own? The boy who almost lost half of his following my lead?” He gestured to the library door. “Them?” He felt like laughing. ”They’re Harry’s, not mine. I barely…” Or maybe he should just cry.

“Friends then,” Cedric said gently.

Harry looked up at the books hanging on the ceiling above him, wondering how much it would hurt if they just fell down and hit his face. Not enough.

“Friends,” Cedric prompted again.

“Ah, friends,” Harry repeated, dull. “It felt like that would last at least, you’re right. Right after the war, we were all so full of hope, delirious with it… the bonds tying us together felt like they would last and last , last until the end of time itself, until… until the end of the eighth year at Hogwarts, that was. Until the delirium of the win, the nostalgia of Hogwarts faded all out and left us all empty.” Harry looked off to the side, thinking back on it. “We repaired the school so well. It was as if there was never any damage done to it at all. But we couldn’t repair the damage the war did to us. It was too much… just looking into each other’s eyes felt like-” Harry hummed, lost in his own memories. “Friends, you say. As if friendship was such an easy thing to keep ablaze.”

Cedric shook his head. “Lovers, then,” he tried uncertainly.

“Ah,” Harry hummed. “The famous Harry Potter and his infamous set of sad, sad lovers.” He ran his fingers through his hair. It felt as if he was ripping them all out one by one. “Me and Cho Chang meeting in a dark to kiss and cry over your death.” He thought about it, his gaze growing distant again. “I don’t even know what happened to her after the war. Huh, well, she did survive though, that’s the important part.”

Cedric just watched him.

“Ah yes, me and Ginny Weasley,” Harry continued. “Always up in the air, always in motion, we- oh, I thought we could run away from it all together, but she had her roots deep in her family land, so deep, too deep for me to sever. I didn’t care, I didn’t love her, not really, it was the idea of belonging with her, with them , that held the appeal…”

Harry hummed under his breath, eager to explain, eager to make Cedric understand, to quench the guilt he might have been feeling. “I thought then, I thought muggles would give me what I so desperately needed. Maybe if I just left the wizarding world altogether, got rid of as much of my magic as humanly possible, maybe if I just started anew, if I just lived …”

“Lived at the void spot,” Cedric finished for him, catching up. 

Harry nodded. “I couldn’t strip myself of it all no matter how much I tried. The nightmares, the magic …” He shook his head. “Avoidance did not work and so I turned to confront it, what else was left?”

Cedric hummed.

“Phodopus Eno, do you know him perchance?”

“I don’t think so, no.”

“A former Slytherin, not too close to Riddle to suffer any of the consequences of the war, not really, but close enough to understand.” Harry said. “Or so I thought.”

“Haz…”

“Oliver Wood.”

“I do know that one.”

“Mhm, crippled in the war, broken by it beyond repair, all his dreams crushed. I thought perhaps he’d understand…”

“Haz,” Cedric muttered, shaking the mirror a bit. The motion brought Harry back to the present.

“None of them did. None of them ever will,” Harry concluded. “So you see. There is nobody for me to return to anyways. There is nobody for me to stay here for either. None of the people here belong to me, not really. I only have this, this one last mission and then-”

“There’s me.”

Harry gave him a sad smile. 

“Why can’t it be me?” Cedric continued his voice gaining strength. “If you need a reason to return, use me as the reason.”

His eyes roamed Harry’s face, his eyes shining with unfiltered hope, with something far far behind the layers of it and Harry-

“I can’t do that,” he said, leaning back. “I won’t do that.”

“Why not?” 

Harry pursed his lips, shaking his head. “I won’t,” he repeated. “I won’t be carving out a life for myself here like this. This is not my life. It’s Harry’s.”

“Just because Sirius said-”

“He was right though, wasn’t he?” Harry said. “This isn’t my body. I would be no different to Riddle sapping life out of the unicorns in the Forbidden forest, out of Quirrell’s frail body, out of you all. Just to desperately cling to life that timed out a long time ago. That’s not-”

“That’s just it though, your body-” Cedric took a moment to think it through and then said: “Okay. Fine. Then we will make you return to your own body then. To the one you left behind in the future, when you-”

“I’m sorry, Rickie,” he said. “None of it matters, don’t you see?”

“But-” Cedric’s voice shook. “But we can still-”

“Find Riddle for me, won’t you?” Harry asked, turning away from the mirror. “I’ll-”

“Haz, you can’t just-”

 Harry ignored his words. “Find him for me, so that the next time I’m around-”

“Haz-”

“Promise me, Rickie.” Harry closed his eyes. “Promise.”

“I won’t. I can’t. I’ll find a way to-”

The hook lodged deep in his navel did not care that Cedric didn’t finish his sentence. It did not care that Harry was not done persuading him of the opposite. It tore him out of the present time without a warning, leaving the end of Cedric’s sentence unheard.

Chapter 19

Notes:

Fasten your seatbelts, my friends, peak martyrdom ahead. Fret not though, we can only go up from here.

Light shifted through Harry’s eyelids, spreading like fire through a dry forest, each and every tree gone. Same as the maple behind his cottage, same as his actual body, same as Harry’s remaining sanity. He was back at his fucking self-proclaimed purgatory, wasn’t he? If the overwhelming light all around hadn’t been a sign enough, then the numbness in his body would be for sure. He couldn’t feel a thing. Of course he couldn’t. He was back in-

“Are you kidding me?” Harry exclaimed, jumping up to his feet to give the place a long once over. It was just as clean as the last time, just as oppressing, just as silent. Silent and loud at the same time. Harry felt like he could hear it laughing back at him. It was, wasn’t it?

“Think this is funny, huh?” he wondered angrily. “Don’t you!?”

He stalked down the platform.

“Didn't we have a deal?” he yelled. “The prophecy, remember? The fucking thing where you let me go back to kill that fucker?”

His purgatory did not answer.

“What? Is that no longer relevant? Did they kill him without me?” He scoffed. “Think they can kill him without me?! You seriously think that?” Harry laughed. “Come on! I am the one destined to do that. I am the one, the only one , who can give you that, you fucking- fucking hell. ”

The purgatory kept shifting around him as he walked, sustaining the same platform all around no matter how long he walked, how far or quickly he tried to run. It was frustrating.

“Think you can just keep me here?” Harry grunted out, stopping in place. “Until… until what? Until I am ready to move on?”

The light shifted gradually, its movement indicating nothing whatsoever.

“Is that what this is? Are you waiting for me to be able to move on?” Harry pursed his lips, giving the silence a moment to think about replying. Reply it didn't, of course.

“Fine,” he growled. “Fine then!” He spread his arms, turning around in a slow circle. “Fine, go ahead. I’m ready.”

Harry snorted when nothing happened. “What a fucking joke! You can’t even make me move on. What is it that you can do exactly? What? Tell me! You can’t let me go back, you can’t let me go forth, what is this all about then? Should I just stay here and fucking rot for all eternity?”

Light shifted around peacefully, paying him no heed. 

“What? You don’t like that? Was I just supposed to sit on the ground and meditate? Is that what Dumbledore did while waiting for me in my original timeline?” Harry wondered, wishing he could punch a wall, but none of the walls were real and there was nothing in this version of King’s Cross, nothing tangible enough except maybe for the ground. And stomping like a small child having a temper tantrum felt a bit too much even for him.

“So what now?” he asked. He glanced around, pursing his lips in confusion. “I need to get back. Just one last time. One last time to do what I have to do and then… otherwise what was the whole point of it? If there was even any point in this at all? In me traveling back? In me…”

He stopped in his tracks, the white stark color of his surroundings interrupted by a large blanket covering something at the center of the platform a few meters in front of him.

Harry looked around quickly, suspicion crawling up his spine like a spider scaling the wall, but the purgatory had no explanation for him. The light kept on shifting, unaware of the change in its midst.

The blanket stood there still when he turned back to it. Fluffy and pliant, the old smell of it waffling up to Harry’s nose. He stepped in closer, taking a deep breath in, savoring the smell.

He reached out a shaky hand. The fabric pressed up against his fingertips, the feeling raw, foreign in this sterile environment. Harry splayed his whole palm against it, pressing his fingertips in. 

There were some sort of muffled sounds coming from underneath it, Harry could hear it now - a bird’s song, a cheerful laugh. 

He gripped it, ready to pull it off and then the hook ripped him out of the fake King’s Cross station, sending him back to the younger body, because of course it did, the fucking thing.

And when he finally came to himself, the first moment of it, when there was stark light shining directly into his pupils, light that felt so similar to that of the King’s Cross, light that was shifting in a very familiar pattern, he thought, for surely he thought, that he must have just gotten stuck in it this time around. His mind was sure in its despair, sure as anything that this couldn’t possibly be the real world, because there was no dizziness, no pain, no nothing and that’s how his brain differentiated between the two places, after all.

Harry sobbed out a cry, bringing his hand up to shield himself against the light, to smack himself on the cheek just to feel nothing at all, but the slap hurt, it stung his cheek, it actually-

Harry startled, pressing his fingertips against his cheek, digging his nails into his skin. He could feel it.

He could-

But how?

He squinted into the light. And then the light disappeared, revealing Mippy sitting on his chest, a beam of light coming out of her forefinger. “Harry Potter is awake, sir,” she announced. “All functions in order.” She then slid down from his chest, jumped down from the bed and trotted to the back of the Hospital Wing.

“Harry, my boy,” came from the base of the bed. Dumbledore was sitting by his legs, his long sleeping gown wrinkled, his nightcap tilted. Fawkes was lying curled up in his lap, watching Harry with shiny eyes. A single tear fell down from them as Harry watched him, the liquid collecting in a small cup Dumbledore was holding.

“How are you feeling?” Dumbledore asked, offering the cup to him. “Would you like some more?”

Harry sank back into his pillow, giving himself a moment to take stock of his body, to take stock of the situation. “I feel fine,” he realized. More than fine actually. Better than ever. Feeling as rejuvenated as this, maybe he could even-

He probably should just-

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating. 

“How long was I out?”

“Mr. Weasley alerted Madame Pomfrey as soon as you lost consciousness. And when none of her spells or potions could bring you back, she asked me to assist her. Or rather, Fawkes here,” Dumbledore said, putting a cork on the cup and hiding it in the sleeve of his nightgown. Fawkes ruffled his feathers and got up, jumping over to Harry’s leg, sitting down at it heavily.

“I see.” Not that long then. The clock was ticking though. 

Harry stared at the ceiling, his mind reeling. He bit his tongue, just to make sure he could still feel . Just to make sure he was still in the real world. The sting of it made him calmer. 

“Mrs. Granger said that you’ve been suffering from these fainting spells for quite some time,” Dumbledore interrupted, the eyes behind his glasses squinted in contemplation. “A lot more ever since he came back in fact, is that true?”

Harry’s leg bounced wildly when he realized Fawkes sitting on it was causing his leg to lose all feeling. Fawkes perched on his knee gripped at it with its talons to remain put, the sting of it grounding. 

“Fainting spells?” Harry said incredulously, looking over at Dumbledore. “What, like the time Dudley whacked me silly? Or the time a stray bludger hit me? Or when the Dementors were let loose to-” 

“Now now, I’m sure your cousin meant no harm,” Dumbledore soothed quickly. “As for Quidditch, that really is a very normal occurrence, isn't it?”

“Well, there was that one bludger being controlled by Quirell in my first year, but I mean, I don’t think… unless Voldermort is controlling teachers again?” Harry pushed himself up, his hands in fists, digging his nails into his palms. The pain kept him sane.

Tick-tock , your time is almost up. 

Dumbledore shook his head. “Lucky for us we haven’t had a change in the roster this year around, not really, what with Severus returning to Potions and me filling in for the Defence spot, so really-”

“Maybe he controls the students again then?”

“I very much doubt that.”

Harry nodded. “So I mean… my shields are up, how could this be Riddle’s doing? How could he be getting to me? You said it yourself, my shields are strong.”

“There has always been a peculiar connection between you and Tom, Occlumency or not,” Dumbledore said, looking up through the window overhead. “At first I thought it’s just the magic of the prophecy, connecting your destinies, but-”

“But?” Harry ventured. He brought his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, dragging his nails over the skin, digging his fingers into his shoulder.

“There was a time not so long ago when I thought it might be something more, something more ancient,” Dumbledore continued. unaware, his eyes trained up above Harry’s head, lost in his own thought. “I was almost sure of it. There were signs urging me to investigate it all, but-”

“But?” Harry repeated.

Dumbledore shook his head. “There was no tangible proof of-”

“Of Riddle having created horcruxes?” Harry dared to ask. “Of Riddle hiding one piece of his soul right here?” He drummed at his forehead, his skull reverberating. “Oh, but he did.” 

Tick-tock, there might not be another chance.

Dumbledore straightened up, the wrinkles on his nightgown disappearing within an instant. The nightcap righted itself on his head.

“The reason why you haven’t found any traces of it was, well, firstly it was very good at hiding,” Harry pressed on. “It lived adjacent to my magic, mimicking the same magical signature.”

Fawkes, noticing the tension in his master’s body, jumped down from Harry’s leg and stood in close, his feathers puffing up.  

“And secondly,” Harry continued. “It’s not there anymore.”

“What happened to it?” Dumbledore asked.

“Destroyed.” Harry shrugged. “Same as the rest of them.”

“By you?”

Harry nodded. “All seven of them.”

“How-”

Harry tilted his head. “Does it matter?”

“I must insist,” Dumbledore said. Embers bubbled up from Fawkes’ feathers, the heat around them rising.

“I came back from the future. From ten years in the future. And so I already knew where they were, how to get rid of them quickly.”

“Why would you have the need to travel ten years to the past?”

“We didn’t succeed in my original timeline. He killed too many,” Harry chose to say. “This way, he won’t kill anybody anymore.”

“And how do I know you are who you claim to be?” Dumbledore wondered, stroking through Fawkes’ feathers that were catching fire at the tips. “And not just Tom himself taking over poor Harry’s mind for example?”

Harry gave him a nod. “When I met you at the Mirror of Erised that one time back in First year, you told me what you saw in there was you holding socks.”

“You could have found that memory in Harry’s mind really.”

“Yes, but Riddle wouldn’t have been able to tell you that you have lied to Harry. That’s not what you have seen at all, was it?”

“Ah, it wasn’t?”

“I’m quite sure it was your sister Ariana in one way or another.”

“A smart guess,” Dumbledore allowed. “A guess anybody digging deep enough could make.”

Tick-tock, the end is near. 

Harry signed. “You know,” he said, leaning back. “I eventually became the master of that wand of yours in my original timeline.”

Dumbledore stilled, the hand he had on Fawkes slid down to cover the pocket of his nightgown where the said wand was most likely hiding.

“I assume I must have died then? I wouldn’t have given it out of my hand unless I did,” Dumbledore said.

“Because that wand would reveal what really happened to her, wouldn’t it? To your sister.”

“How would it reveal such a thing?” Dumbledore wondered. “It’s a mere wand. It’s a topic from years ago. Priori Incantatem, no matter how strong, has a limit.”

“A mere wand, you say,” Harry mused. “It’s the Elder Wand. It’s not just a simple channel object, it’s a magical object on its own, with its own magic that dwells inside of it, that you can resonate with.”

“And you have? Resonated with it?”

“Yes.”

“And what is it that it told you?”

“I think you know.”

“I might not,” Dumbledore said. “Beside, to confirm that you are indeed who you claim to be, that you have indeed been a master of the Elder wand, something that Tom wouldn’t be able to prove-”

“It was the Elder wand that killed your sister.”

Dumbledore clenched his hands into fists.

“I never really studied who the holder was at that particular moment though,” Harry added. “It might have been either of you.”

“Why is it that you didn’t?”

Harry pursed his lips. “I didn’t want to know,” he answered honestly. “I still don’t want to know.”

Dumbledore mulled that over for a moment, then smiled, not unkindly. “Chivalrous as ever. Time seems to have not changed that.” He let go of the wand in his pocket, putting his hand back on Fawkes to dust off the light on the tips of his feathers. 

Tick-tock, you better hurry.

“So, I assume you know where he is,” Harry said. It wasn’t a question. “But you won’t tell anybody because it’s not their place to kill him.”

Dumbledore gave him a silent look, his hand moving over Fawkes pausing minutely.

“I agree with you. It indeed isn’t their place, their destiny.” Harry pressed his hand against his chest. ”I am the one who was marked by him to take that place, to destroy him. All you have to do is take me to him. Do so, and I will show him the power he knows not.”

Dumbledore hummed. “And that is…? How can you be so sure that you possess this power? The Harry I know might, but you-”

“The Harry you know is weak. He will never be the soldier you seek, not anymore, not after all the changes I have already made.”

“Changes you’ve made?”

“I saved them all.” Harry smiled. “All the deaths that would have shaped the young Harry, all his suffering. I have erased it from history. And now all you are left with is a boy, just a boy.”

“Boys can be capable of-”

“I am capable of more. The power Riddle does not know of, that’s me. I’ll do whatever I must so that history does not repeat itself. I’d die for it even.”

“Would you?”

“I’m already dead. I’ve been struggling to find purchase in this body for far too long. This might as well be my last chance. Take me to him. Apparate us as close as you can. Do it so that I can make the last minutes of my existence worthwhile.”

“And what will you do if I do take you to him?”

“Well, I was thinking I’ll just kill him. And then I’ll probably get devoured by the time itself. It’s a win-win sort of situation really.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to achieve this grandiose goal of yours? Not even I myself was able to best Tom at magic and as you have pointed out just a moment ago, I am the wielder of the Elder wand.”

“I’ll break the lock placed on my core,” Harry said, pressing his hand against his chest. “The strongest lock in a decade, wasn’t it?”

“It’s not about the quantity of magic, my dear boy. If it was, then Tom himself-”

“It is if I manage to render Riddle’s own magic unusable.”

“Ah,” Dumbledore’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Are you the one who introduced the Void Spell to the Order? I was sure Xenophilius-”

Harry reached over with his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Dumbledore watched him, thinking.

Tick-tock, a limited-time offer. 

Dumbledore grabbed his hand and apparated them away.

 

-

 

They appeared in the middle of a forest, in-between rows upon rows of the highest conifer trees Harry has ever seen. The bright flame of Fawkes that appeared next to them just a moment later lured in a familiar visitor - Alastor Moody hobbled out from between the trees, giving Dumbledore and Harry a thorough once-over with his magical eye and satisfied it was indeed them, he stepped in closer.

“Albus,” he greeted. “I’m afraid the status is unchanged.”

His staff pointed behind them. Harry turned. His eyes met a shining golden wall made out of the thinnest lines that connected and disconnected in a tightly woven pattern - paintings of flowers frozen eternally in bloom, of entwined animal carcasses with sharp rib bones - the golden edges of the magical twine glittering in the afternoon sun, potent, strong.

“Ah,” Harry acknowledged. “How beautiful.”

“Albus?”

“A moment, Alastor.”

“I haven’t seen such intricate work in a while.” Harry stepped in closer. “What are you hiding, hmm?” He closed his eyes, listening to the hum of magic, listening to the thrum of it, the melody of a thousand drops of dew sliding down a petal, dropping down onto the solid surface of the stark white bones beneath-

“I wouldn’t touch those, boy. They-”

Harry touched the wards. He slid his fingertip gently over the surface, moving the knots of them aside just a tiny fraction, just enough to see what they were hiding. 

Harry laughed at the sight of the building behind the wards. “What in the… the Caeriw estate?”

“Yes,” Moody confirmed begrudgingly.

“The rest of the ancestral homes have been closed off to Tom, so he had taken residence within this one. He strengthened the original wards-”

“They’ve only been growing stronger since he moved in. There is no way-”

“He should have taken them apart altogether,” Harry noted, studying them - deep down within the thousands of different flowers bloomed white lilies. Within the animal carcasses lay a skeleton of a snowy owl. “Oh, Riddle, you fool, building up on top of existing wards. They carry their own marks, you see.”

“What…?”

“I was here during the attack on the Caeriw estate.” Harry reached through the knots, caressing the gentle white petals, brushing his fingers over the bleached bones of wings. 

“Ah…”

“I fed the wards my own magic.” Harry hummed, as the knots tightened around his wrist threateningly, as they grew sharp fangs, ready to bite off anything that dared to intrude. “You remember me, don’t you?” He let the fangs pierce through his skin, let them taste the blood beneath, the magic that saturated it, let them lick his wounds clean and sing and thrum and howl as they recognized him, as they fell apart around him, like a petals of a dying lily flower, like the feathers of a murdered snowy owl… only to reveal the heavy entrance to the Caeriw estate. 

Harry pushed the door open, infusing the wards with a strong Anti-apparating Charm and a couple more just to even out the playing field. He paused then, his hand pressed against the golden door handle still.

“Stay back,” he told them. “Don’t follow.”

Moody scoffed at that, stepping in closer, his staff click-clacking on the cobblestones that were revealed underneath after the wards opened up to them. Dumbledore’s hand stopped him from moving up any further though.  

He huffed in outrage. “Albus, you can’t be ser-”

“Good luck, Harry,” Dumbledore said, the eyes behind his glasses twinkling, his words final. Fawkes eyes glowed like miniature suns up above his shoulder.

Harry gave them a tight nod and sprinted into the house, the door falling shut behind them with a loud thud. None of them would open the door to run after him, none of them would go in to help or save him, he knew. It was a sobering thought, a reassuring one at the same time. He didn’t have to worry about any secondary damage, about protecting anybody else but this young body of his. He could go all out.

With that thought in mind, he pressed up against the underage lock, inflating his magic until it the lock around his core could not take the pressure anymore, breaking into dozen different places, the magic overflowing out, gushing out of his body, filling up the space around him, spilling and trailing behind him as he ran, folding up behind, chasing after him to keep up.

The cold interior bubbled up with its warmth. The golden columns lining the entrance hall shook, the intricate rat statues curled up between the marble ivy at the top of each of them coming alive, crawling down to follow after him eagerly. The huge marble tiles tilted towards him, creaking as his magic ripped them out of the floor, out of the walls. He paid the chaos around no heed, it would take away too much of his focus to rein all that power in and he needed to focus now, he needed to find-

When he reached the middle of the entrance hall, a dozen different hallways and staircases presented to him at the palm of his hand, Harry hesitated. But then, a pop from somewhere at the back of the hall reached his ears. Harry whipped his head around, his magic whirling around as a shield and there , right at the far end of it, he spotted one of the elves from months ago. She was naked, her body abused by snake bites, her limbs cured along her body in unnatural angles. She stared right at him, her eyes huge and then slowly, fighting the pain, lifted a tiny shaking hand and pointed down the hallway on the left.

Harry did not hesitate, running for it, the marble tilting up to try and follow, the rats running behind him, a tiny army of his own. The house elf stepped out of the way to let him through. Harry let his magic wash over her, to mend the broken bones, to heal what it could from the bites, to apparate the house elf back to the kitchen where they have first met, to keep her safe.

He ran until he reached another hall, smaller than the previous but just as grand. He collected a dozen more rats that crawled down the columns lining the room. There at the far end, stood the second house elf; in a similar state, but just as determined to point out the way to him. Harry whizzed past him, offering him the same treatment. The house elf disappeared with a silent pop, tucked in a safe corner of the kitchens.

And then there was a door. A door guarded by a huge angry-looking snake, which meant Riddle wouldn’t be too far off. 

Nagini reeled back, ready to strike, her hissing filling up the wide hallway. Harry skidded to a stop, letting the clambering army of rats overtake him and swarm her. Nagini attacked the nearest one, her sharp fangs biting into its golden body. The rat started to smoke, the gold dissolving inside her mouth, trickling down her throat. She choked, hissed, opening her mouth wide to expel the liquid gold out of her mouth, but as soon as she did so, another of the rats slipped inside, trailing down her throat and so did another one and another one, until she couldn’t breathe anymore, reeling back, her massive body ramming into the nearest wall.

Harry jumped over her flailing tail and burst in through the door at the end of the hallway. The door swung open, his magic shredding them into a myriad of black ribbons before they would hit the walls at the sides of it.

He paused at the mouth of another big hall, taking a moment to survey the new surroundings. Right at the middle of it, on a high stone throne sat Riddle, just as he remembered him from that last day of the Battle of Hogwarts; his long tattered robes folded around his bare legs, his feet pressed up against the stone hands reaching out from under his throne. It was a small replica of the statue he would have built up at the Ministry of Magic had he conquered it this time around, only there weren’t full statues of muggles beneath, just their hands, their fingers curved up in agony as Riddle’s throne crushed the life out of them.

Riddle smiled as Harry entered the hall, the shimmer of his personal wards painting his greenish skin silver. “Harry Potter,” he hissed, “The Boy Who-”

Harry whipped his hand around, blasting up the twenty-odd marble vases standing alongside the hall, turning their solid bodies into a thousand tiny shrapnels that flew all around the shiny floors. Some of them hit Riddle’s shield, bouncing off, collecting at the edge of it, creating a solid line around.

Riddle’s non-existent brow went up, the rest of his greeting stuck at the back of his throat.

Harry stomped his foot on the floor, transforming each and every one of the shrapnels into a potent Void object. The void power of the thick line at the edge of Riddle’s shield caused the shield to collapse within a second.

Harry took a step back, just a bit to get out of the reach of the nearest Void object and conjurated a handgun. The trigger froze as soon as the gun appeared, the magic around it fighting the technology, but it didn’t have to fight for long. Harry pressed his own magic down, reigning it in and stepped back into the Void area. He started pressing at the trigger as he pointed the gun down to the ground to reset the trigger, to get it to work again and only when it jumped back into a working position did he lift the gun again and took three measured shots at Riddle.

Riddle, still reeling at the loss of his shield, still surprised from Harry’s quick wordless attack, got hit easily. The first bullet grazed his head, carving out a deep gash at the side, tearing his ear apart. The second hit his neck, just below his jaw, blood spraying out of the artery, painting the armrest of his throne red. The third didn’t get to connect anymore.

With an agonized shriek, Riddle pressed a hand to the side of his neck, his wand sending out a blast of Explosion Charms at the ring of shrapnels around his throne. The Void objects collapsed in on themselves at the onslaught, the magic too strong for them to keep on existing. The whole ring imploded, bits and pieces of it blown backwards. The power of Riddle’s magic pressed up against the rest of them, destroying a half of them until it couldn’t move any further. And then he built up a strong shield around himself again. A shield no muggle weapon could penetrate.

Riddle’s wand pressed up deep into his wound, replenishing the blood he had lost, closing up the wound, so quick that-

Harry cursed. He lowered the handgun, reached up, his fingers splayed as far as they would go. He tore down the ceiling, turning the rubble into a mass of Void objects in a mad attempt to get another chance of shooting Riddle down.

This time, Riddle was ready for it though.

“You thought I’d let you fool me with these?!” he yelled and sent another strong burst of magic forth from his wand. “You think I wouldn’t prepare myself for these foul things?! Think I wouldn’t study how to destroy them?” The rubble, void object or not, but dust blown away from him. This time the burst of it managed to evaporate all of the Void objects within the hall. “I am-”

Harry took aim anyway. He transformed the bullets themselves into Void objects, shooting for Riddle’s head. The first passed through the shield, but Riddle destroyed it before it could reach him, the rest ricocheted off it, embedding itself in the nearest walls.

Harry threw the handgun away as Riddle stepped down from his throne, his bare feet walking down over the spasming muggle hands. He called up his own shield, wrapping it around himself like a suit of armor, woven into his skin, flexible and iridescent. 

Riddle didn’t let him off his eyes, studying his movements. “Who are you?” he asked, stepping down onto the cold marble. “Harry Potter is but a mere child, not even Dumbledore could raise him up to this level of… intricacy. The way you wield magi-”

Harry sent out a wordless killing curse, the green light of it reflected in Riddle’s shocked eyes as it approached him. He barely managed to swing his arm in time for a piece of his throne to jump forward and cover for him.

“How dar-”

Harry shot another one. And another. With each one, he stepped in further to side, revealing another part of Riddle’s body to his field of vision - he shot at his ankle, shot of his tattered bleeding ear, shot at the wrist, shot at anything he could see. 

Riddle stumbled back, waving his wand madly to block the multitude of green flashes being hurtled his way - he used up the stone building up his throne, tore out the marble tiles from the floor around him, started to conjure random items to stand in the way of the killing curses.

“How dare you!” he yelled at Harry, getting ready to fire one of his spells. “How-”

Harry transformed all of the rubble Riddle was using as a shield to a mass of Void objects. The spell Riddle was ready to send out collapsed on itself. Riddle yelled in defiance and used up another burst of his magic to destroy the rubble around him.

“You dare to use this mudblood spell against me. I-”

Harry was almost at the side of the hall, within the reach of the wall. He pushed his hand into it and infused it with another of his handy spells. This time when he sent out a volley of killing curses out into the room, into all kinds of different directions, they started to ricochet off the walls, filling in the space with manic flashes of green light flying chaotically to and fro, coming up on Riddle from all kinds of different directions.

Riddle swooshed his wand around, a mass of silver snakes erupting from the ground around him, building up an impenetrable vault around him that shielded him from the killing curses. 

“You think you can kill me?!” he hissed as dead snakes fell from his makeshift shield only to be replaced by a dozen more. “You think you ca-”

With a quick wave of a hand Harry exchanged the killing curses for a volley of Impreriouses, hitting at least a half of the snakes wiggling around in Riddle’s armor. “Attack,” he hissed then.

The shield around Riddle collapsed on itself, half of the snakes slithering in to bite Riddle, half of them weaving themselves tighter around him to keep him safe, it was a suffocating mess of scales that kept protecting and attacking him at the same time. 

Harry used that time to sink his hand into the wall and grab the wards lining the hall. He pulled them out and ran to the other side of the hall while Riddle flailed around. There he grabbed the other side of them as well, easing them out from the walls, rearranging them to start advancing towards Riddle from all sides, to enclose and limit the space around him.

At the same exact moment Riddle got impatient and banished all the snakes with a wave of his wand, protection be damned. He fired a spell at Harry who was too busy pulling at the wards and hit him in the right arm. Black mold erupted over one of the knots building up his shield, the magic corrupting it spreading quickly, collapsing his shield and at the same time-

Harry realized with a stark shock that he was starting to lose all feeling in his arm.

He let go of the wards, trying to shake the curse off with a bunch of generic anti-curses and when none of them worked, he took a more desperate route and just got rid of the shield as a whole, dislodging it from his skin, peeling it off like an old snake’s skin. The lack of feeling remained though.

Fuck.

“Well well well,” Riddle said, smirking. “Not that invincible after all, ar-”

Harry, now without a shield, did not waste magic on casting a second one upon himself. The decaying magic might still be hovering close, ready to infect it.

He grabbed the wards again, the left and the right side of them and pulled them together, twisting them like two sheets of fabric and then reached up, sending a modified Accio spell at the wards within the ceiling, and added those in. At last came the wards within the floor. And he twisted and twisted, until they enclosed Riddle in a small bubble, advancing closer and closer.

Riddle shot hap-hazard spells on them. Spells Harry did not focus on as he wound a tight bubble around him - some of them ricocheted back at him, some went through, some got sucked into the wards, causing them to flash in a multitude of wild colors.

And then one of the walls touched Riddle’s elbow and the skin started to sizzle, smoke and char. Riddle screeched, jerking back, only to connect with the wards behind him. The robes on his back turned into hot liquid, sliding down his burnt back. He reached out to grab the wards, to stop them from advancing with his bare hand. The hand started sizzling, skin coming off-

“Using my own wards against me, you fool!!” Riddle screamed, sinking his fingers in to undo the knots inside of the net surrounding him.

Harry jerked at the wards, pulling them in tighter. They bit off Riddle's fingers. “They were never truly yours,” he said.

Riddle gave him a nasty look. “And you think them yours?” He gripped at them, holding them away from his face with his deformed hand. “You think yourself so powerful?” He pulled at the wards, pulled against Harry. “You think your magic has no match?” He jerked his head, gesturing to the heat of Harry’s magic bubbling up all around. “Have you even bothered to check what you’re standing against?”

Harry frowned. Riddle’s eyes flickered over his shoulder and Harry only had a moment to catch a glimpse of Nagini hovering over him, her body covered in liquid gold, her opened mouth spraying droplets of the same gold all over Harry’s face. It stung.

Nagini used the last of her energy, the last moments of her life to fall forward and sink her fangs deep into his left shoulder. The venom was spreading quickly. It made Harry drop the wards in a mad dash to pry her dead heavy body off himself before more venom seeped in, before it could kill him, before-

He fell back, the sudden change of angle dislodging her off his shoulder. His back connected painfully with the rubble beneath, a piece of marble digging into his lower back, his head cushioned against Nagini’s splayed body. He gripped his shoulder, surging his magic in to expel as much of the venom before-

Before Riddle could extricate himself from the collapsing wards, before he could fix up the most urgent wounds on his body, before he could replenish his strength. The venom stuck to the inside of his veins though, seeped into the walls of his arteries, sling its way to his heart. He could barely even-

“You might have a more flexible hold on your magic, but my reserves are far stronger than yours,” Riddle hissed, approaching. “My cause is stronger far than yours. And that will be your undoing.”

He appeared above Harry, staring down at him with a wicked grin on his lips. “Now, where were we?” he asked, playing with Lucius Malfoy’s wand. He was still missing half of his fingers, but the wounds were closed off, healed now. “Ah, right.”

Harry’s heart beat frantically in his chest, surging the blood in quicker, surging the venom in faster. His magic had a hard time fighting against it. He built up a miss-matched set of magical filters around his heart to stop the venom, to stop it from entering his heart or any of his major organs, but the-

And just when he thought he had succeeded, just when he thought he might be ready to stand up and continue on fighting, the hook in his navel started pulling him away.

Harry panicked, gripped his stomach, gripped the invisible hook, staring up at Riddle, staring up at the excitement in his face, at the wand pointed his way. And the hook pulled and pulled, trying to dislodge him from the body and Harry had to divide his magic between fighting off the venom and fighting off the hook and there was nothing left, nothing to stop Riddle from-

“Harry Potter,” Riddle whispered, triumphant. And Harry knew, he knew what had to be done, the only thing that could be done to make sure young Harry survived this - solidify the filters inside of the body to block off the venom, stay in the body long enough to die in his stead and hope, hope that Harry-

“The Boy Who Lived,” Riddle continued, the time stretching to infinity with each of the syllables being spoken out.

The filters settled in, trapping the venom in the left part of his body, trapping it in the left arm, in his left leg, somewhere along his left side. All of it without feeling. So was his right side, a consequence of the magical black rot.

“Fuck you,” Harry wheezed, directing the rest of his magic into the hook in his navel, to keep him in as long as possible, to keep him in until-

“Come to die,” Riddle whispered, enthralled by the sight of him. His hand moved in a slow mesmerizing pattern-

Harry burned through the last bits of his reserves to stay in his body and tapped into his own soul. He stared up at Riddle, stared at the tip of the wand, as it started to glow green, at the flash building up, at Riddle’s mouth opening up, at-

“Stay close to me,” he whispered automatically, but this time around there were no ghosts of his loved-ones hovering comfortingly around - no ghost of his mother whispering a gentle: “Always.” No echo of his father’s: “You’re nearly there, son.” No sad smile from Remus. No nod from Sirius. It was just him, lying on the ground, fucking paralyzed, alone, so alone.

And Harry, despite all his bravery, realized he was frightened. Frightened to die alone like this.

Frightened to die at all.

Frightened.

“Avada Kedavra!” Riddle bellowed, a flash of green heading Harry’s way - steady, inevitable, final.

Harry closed his eyes against it, holding on to the hook, holding it in place for just a moment more, gripping it tightly, all his fear and anxiety poured into this one last act of rebellion against the merciless time-stream trying to pull him out of the present time, one last breath taken, one last-

A loud crack came through the air, a whip being whisked in his direction, a tight lasso wounding its way around his chest and then pulling and pulling, until Harry was flung into the air, out of the way of the killing curse, away from Nagini’s motionless body, away from Riddle’s murderous intent.

Harry’s eyes flew open just as he hit the ground, its soft surface rising around him to absorb the impact. And then there were hands on him, pulling him out-

“Got him!” Cedric yelled, cradling him in his arms. 

Sirius appeared on his side, pressing the tip of his wand against the bleeding wound on his shoulder. “It’s not healing!” he despaired.

“Are you an imbecile?” Snape joined from the other side. “Of course it’s not healing. It’s a bite from that blasted snake.” He slapped his wand out of the way and upturned a whole vial of liquid into the wound.

Harry groaned at the contact, an ice-cold feeling dripping down his shoulder into his hand, down the side of his body and with it, the sensations on his left side started to return. He could feel Cedric’s arms around him, squeezing him tight, his embrace warm and solid. He could feel-

“Inferi!” yelled Bill from a distance. “Inferi approaching.”

“We gotta fall back!” the twins shouted. “Now.”

“Fall back!” echoed a bunch of voices around the hall. There must have been at least a dozen more people somewhere around. “Inferi! Fall back!”

Remus appeared in Harry’s field of vision. “Bring him to Dumbledore,” he urged. “We need his lock restored before-”

Harry tipped his head back, looking up at Cedric. 

“Rickie,” he whispered into the soothing melody of panicked voices rising up all around them. 

“Not now, Haz!” Cedric gritted out, readying himself to pull Harry up.

“Rickie,” Harry repeated and at that Cedric paused, finally looking down at him, his gray eyes wild and oh-so-gentle.

Harry smiled at the sight of them. “Thanks for coming,” he said. “Thanks for everything.” And with that, he let go of the hook in his navel and let himself be pulled out of the body for what would surely be the last time.

Chapter 20

Harry opened his eyes into the stark whiteness of his personal Purgatory, his body once again void of any feeling whatsoever. This time though he did not force himself up, he did not go running around searching for a way out, for a bargain to strike. He stayed lying there staring up at the shifting light, at the planes of it moving in an endless pattern, feeling nothing. Nothing at all.

“Well… this is it, isn’t it?” he whispered into the silence. “The end of it all.”

The light did not answer. It didn’t have to.

Harry sighed, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes to push the unshed tears back inside, to calm down his frantically beating heart, to steady his ragged breath. And when he pulled the hands off his eyes and opened them up into the light, his surroundings were all the same, nothing had changed and nothing ever would, Harry knew.

And that was fine.

It was alright really.

It didn’t matter.

Because-

Because this was how it was supposed to be right from the start. This was where he was supposed to end up, wasn’t it? He had known that. He had-

He hadn’t fulfilled his mission though.

He failed to kill Voldermort, failed to fulfill the prophecy, failed to-

“We never really did have a deal, did we?” he spoke, his voice hushed. “You don’t care about the prophecy, do you? Perhaps it wasn't even- I wasn’t even-” He couldn’t finish the sentence. “My time just… it ran out. My time has truly ran out now, hasn’t it? And this-”

Harry paused when a sudden burst of song caressed his ears - a song that seemed familiar on some unconscious level, but a song that he couldn’t have identified no matter how hard he tried. He frowned, pushed himself up and turned his head towards it.

And then, there it was again. Something that didn't belong in this place. Something he’d seen before. Big and imposing, its saturated colours clashing strongly with the stark white background - a big lump of a blanket thrown haphazardly over something. Something substantial. Something different.

Ah.

Harry reached out a hand, grasping at the blanket. He pulled it down from whatever it was hiding and revealed a big dark wooden box covered in intricate carvings - a host of sparrows sat in-between lush leaves, ruffling their feathers, shuffling along the branch, opening their beaks repeatedly, their song startlingly loud in this silent sterile place.

When Harry reached out to caress the box with his fingertips, in awe of feeling the raw surface of it, the sparrows startled and took flight. They exploded out of the box in a stream of feathers and leaves and wood chips that ruffled his hair, that twirled around his clothes. He closed his eyes against the onslaught and when he finally dared to open them again, his surroundings were nothing like before.

The stark whiteness was gone. He was standing inside a room covered in rich wood reminiscent of the wood ordaining the box from just a few moments ago. The sparrows were still there, flitting through the ceiling, resting on the beams supporting the triangle roof up above, the beams twisted into what looked like a robust crown of a tree, the leaves wooden, wooden as everything else in it - acorns and chestnuts, caterpillars frozen in place, spiders with wooden nets so delicate Harry would be afraid to breathe too heavily as to not destroy them. 

Harry’s eyes followed a sparkle of fireflies fly around the ceiling and then descend down onto a big conifer tree on the side - a tree decorated in nothing but their light.

And then there was bright laughter ringing through the room. It forced Harry to finally turn around. There was a family sitting close to a big fireplace - a small boy in yellow pajamas, not older than three years perhaps, sprawled in a pile of wrapping paper, his arms extended up above his head as he held up a potion kit, the kit obscuring his face; an older couple sitting on the couch close to him and a younger one sitting at a dining table near the wide glass door leading to a clearing covered in a thick layers of snow. He recognized one of them almost instantly. It was a much younger version of Amos Diggory. Which meant the child must have certainly been-

“Oh,” Harry breathed. “It’s the-”

“Rickie, dear,” Cedric’s grandma spoke up, leaning to catch his attention. “I think you missed one.”

Cedric let the hand with the potion kit fall down, its content clattering inside of it. “Missed one?” he asked, his gray eyes straying to scan the room. They passed over Harry as if he wasn’t even there. 

“Where?” Cedric wondered.

Harry walked in closer, crouching down in front of him to peer into that face full of curiosity and wonder. 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Cedric’s grandma mused. “I think the house elves might have hidden it too well this year.”

Cedric stood up at that. The wrapping paper crinkled as he walked over it, turning in a circle to scan his surroundings with a very serious look on his face.

“You gotta look more carefully, Rickie,” his grandpa added, his head jerking in the direction of the tree in the far corner.

“Oh hush, dear, you’re going to spoil all the fun!” his grandma spoke, slapping her husband’s arm. 

Cedric was already rushing over to the tree. Harry moved out of the way even though he wouldn't really be an obstacle to him and watched as Cedric started to rummage through the tree, exclaiming in excitement when his fingers bumped into a small oblong box nestled deep within.

He pulled it out.

With a wave of his grandma’s wand, the box exploded in size, clattering from Cedric’s hands to the floor where it grew and grew, until it was over a meter long at least.

“Ah,” Harry noted knowingly, walking in closer to watch Cedric’s tiny hand shake as he tore into the wrapping paper, as he uncovered the box, as he pried it open with his fingertips, as he revealed the practice broom.

“It’s a broom!” Cedric exclaimed, turning over to his grandma with a big smile on his face. “Just like the one Cho has!”

Harry’s smile widened to mirror his. “Would you look at that,” he whispered.

Cedric reached into the box and pulled the broom up, staring at it with wide amazed eyes. “It’s a broom,” he repeated. He looked over at his grandma again, squeezing the broom close to his chest. “Can I try it out? Right now?”

“Of course, Rickie,” his grandma said, getting up from the couch. She brought out her wand and pointed it up at the ceiling. Harry watched in silent amazement as the ceiling contorted, the branches intertwined in a tight weave moved, creating a safely contained maze full of long wide passages, the sparrows flitting to and fro in excitement, the fireflies filling them up with light.

“Go right ahead, dear,” she said motioning to Cedric, whose eyes were glued to the ceiling in the same kind of amazement Harry felt on his own face.

“Mother, really?” Mr. Diggory spoke up, peering up the ceiling as well. “He can just fly around the room for a bit, it’s not like-”

“Oh, nonsense, Amos,” Cedric’s grandma said, waving her hand in her son’s direction. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“It’s called a practice broom for a reason,” Mr. Diggory argued. “It won’t go that high up.”

“Then we might as well help it,” Cedric’s grandpa said, rising up from the couch as well. He instructed Cedric to mount his broom and hold on tightly. And then he lifted the broom up with Cedric on it, raising it up above his waist where the safety measures would stop the broom from progressing any higher, and then with a rush of strength, he propelled it up into the ceiling.

Cedric squealed.

Harry expected the broom to sink back down, the safety measures kicking in, but just as it reached the peak above their heads, Cedric’s grandma moved her wand again and the nearest branch sprung up underneath it to fool the broom's safety mechanism. The broom shuddered, evaluating the situation and then apparently decided a branch below could well indeed be the ground it was designed to hover above and stayed floating in place.

Cedric looked down at them, his face beaming.

“Go on,” his grandpa said, lifting his hand to mimic a simple flight pattern. “Just like you did on Cho’s broom last week.”

Cedric nodded. He looked up, gripped the handle tighter, tucked his feet in more securely and then leaned into it to guide the broom forward into the nearest tunnel made out of entwined branches. The sparkle of fireflies followed behind him, flying in quickly to act as guide lights for Cedric. He followed them through the tunnels, his speed careful and measured, his forehead scrunched up in concentration. 

“Let me just-” his grandma spoke from beside Harry, her wand waving up to the ceiling again.

“Mother,” Mr. Diggory let out a warning, but it was too late. The ceiling expanded again, the tunnels contorting into a maze of spirals, the sparrows taking flight to join Cedric’s mad rush through them, their song spurting him to gain speed, the fireflies barely able to keep up the pace with him.

Cedric’s wild laughter joined in on their song, ringing in through the ceiling, raining down on them, setting their faces alight. And Harry couldn’t help but join them, laughing merilly.

“That’s a real nice one, Rickie,” he whispered to himself, his cheeks hurting from how wide his smile was, his eyes watery as he watched Cedric zoom around the ceiling. “A real-”

And then a stray ray of light caught his eye. It was filtering in through the tall glass door at the right side, but… the weird thing was: he could see through the glass door, he could see the snowy clearing bathed in darkness, but the light coming in through the crack in the door was bright and warm and it was in such a dissonance with what he was seeing that he couldn’t help but approach it. 

“What do we have here?” he wondered, stepping through. He landed in the same clearing he saw through the glass door, but instead of it being covered by snow it was full of ripe strawberries, the summer sun warm, the wind gentle.

Up above, on similar practice brooms, hovered three children - Cedric, Cho and Mic. They were all older now, closer to ten or eleven perhaps.

“A stray one got in, Rickie,” Harry tutted, not unkindly, surveying the fraying edges of the stray memory glued to the original one Harry just left.

The children were chasing a slow practice snitch, their brooms barely above the treetops, but high enough for the conversations to be too far away for Harry’s ears were this the actual world. Since this was a condensed memory though, the sound carried in better than it usually would.

Cho caught the snitch, laughing in delight. Cedric and Mic stopped near her.

“You guys, I don’t wanna play anymore,” Mic complained, kicking his legs around. “I keep losing. It sucks.”

“We’ll give you a head start this time,” Cho said, holding out the practice snitch.

“I don’t wanna,” Mic pouted, leaning back on his broom. He rode it up and started to roll into a lazy loop until he was hanging upside down, looking down to the ground below.

Cho sighed. “So what do you wanna do?”

“We can see who can stay upside down longer,” Cedric proposed, rolling over as well.

Cho laughed. “Okay.” And followed suit.

They hung there giggling for a couple of moments, swinging around like monkeys, trying to kick each other off the brooms by sticking their feet into each other’s bristles. The practice brooms, albeit bigger than Cedric’s previous broom, were stabilized enough as to not let that happen though. 

“This sucks,” Mic said again, pulling himself up to hug his broom. “Everything sucks.” His voice carried down to Harry.

Cho pulled herself up higher as well, looking over at him over the handle. “It’s gonna be fine, you know.”

“It’s not,” Mic muttered. “You’re gonna go to Ravenclaw and he’s gonna go to Hufflepuff and I will be stuck in-between. Or worse, sorted into bloody Gryffindor.”

“Gryffindor can’t be that bad,” Cedric reasoned, swinging himself up to sit on his broom. “It’s got all the Weasleys in and the Weasleys are fun.”

“Weasleys are fun when you can watch their pranks from afar, not when they have direct access to pranking you.”

“He’s got a point,” Cho noted. “Just go to Slytherin then.”

“Don’t wanna,” Mic said. “Slytherin is too much work.”

“Doesn’t your family usually do Slytherin?” Cedric wondered. 

“Maybe like… by a small margin?” Mic said. “We’re too versatile, my mom says, we just choose anything really. It’s not a big deal.”

“Let’s just all do Ravenclaw then,” Cho proposed.

“There’s no way Ced will do Ravenclaw.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “There is no way Cho would do Hufflepuff,” he countered.

“You know I can’t,” she huffed. “My mom-”

“ My dad ,” Cedric said pointedly.

“Well, I can’t be in both now, can I?” Mic wailed.

Cho and Cedric gave him solemn looks.

“Stupid Hogwarts with its stupid houses,” Mic muttered.

“Myea,” Cho and Cedric agreed, their brooms moving slowly in an uneven circle around Mic, who just hung there silently.

“Ravenclaw is too much work,” he muttered after a while.

“So is Hufflepuff,” Cho reasoned.

“Not for me it wouldn’t be,” Mic said. “For Ced, sure, but my parents don’t care either way. I hear Hufflepuffs- I mean they-”

“They’re particularly good finders.” Cho giggled. “Not sure that’s for you. You suck at finding the snitch no matter how much head start we give you.”

“Oh, shut up. You made that up!” Mic seethed. “ Good finders? Nobody says that.” He reached over to grab Cho’s toy broomstick by its bristles, pulling at it. “Bet you charmed the snitch anyway.”

“We did,” Cedric answered solemnly. He grabbed Mic’s broom, held on to it, creating a long train, with Cho’s broom being the locomotive and them acting as passive carts. 

“Besides,” Cho spoke up as she dragged them around the tree tops in tight loops. So tight they collided with each other at times, laughing. “Aren’t Hufflepuffs supposed to be hard workers? That’s literally what you don’t wanna be.”

“And Ravenclaws are supposed to be smart,” Mic huffed. “Being smart is tiring. You have to read all these books and stuff.”

“True,” Cho said.

“So not true,” Cedric argued. “It’s about… being smart about stuff. And you are smart about stuff.”

Mic snorted.

“You are though,” Cho joined in. “Slytherin-smart even. It’s uncanny.”

“We should just make our own house.” Mic sighed. “Or better yet, merge the four houses into one large house. No more division. Done.”

“See?” Cedric said. “That’s smart.”

“Super smart,” Cho agreed.

Mic let go of her broom, shook off Cedric and finally climbed up on his broom properly again. “Let’s just play with the practice snitch again. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”

Cho sighed and brought up the snitch. She did not let go of it though, forcing Mic to look at her. “Hufflepuff,” she said, nodding at him. “Hufflepuff makes the most sense for you.”

“Cho…” Cedric spoke up.

“No.” She shook her head. “You can stay at the dorm together. Keep an eye on each other. You wouldn’t be able to do that with me, they’d split us into different dormitories. Boys and girls, remember?”

Mic did not answer. He reached over to steal the snitch from her hand and released it into the air, zooming right after it. “Thirty second head start!” he yelled.

Harry didn’t get to find out if he caught the snitch or not, because the hook in his navel tore him out of the memory and threw him back into present time. Much to Harry’s own surprise. 

_

 

Harry came to lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing, staring right up into Cedric’s face. It was so reminiscent of the last time they saw each other, so similar to it, that Harry was tempted to turn his head to make sure they were no longer in the Caeriw estate. But no. There were no Inferi screeching their way, no Order member scrambling around, no Voldemort. It was just him lying in a bed, Cedric pulling away to sit at a nearby chair, the empty Hogwarts’ Hospital Wing a gentle soothing presence at the back of it all. 

Harry sagged back into the pillow. “Huh?” he managed. “How?”

“Dumbledore stopped by when you fell over. Gave me these,” Cedric said, lifting his hand to show him one of the long ornamental vials Dumbledore kept in the huge case in his office. “Said the tears still work? It took you quite a long time to wake up anyway though.”

Harry sighed, pressing his hand against his face. “Didn’t think I would anymore.”

“It’s been progressing, true, but not that fast. I don’t think you've reached the limit yet,” Cedric reasoned. “Was it the White Place again?”

“Kinda.” Harry let the hand fall down on the mattress beside his body. “Not fully.” 

“Oh?”

He pushed himself up, giving Cedric a weak smile. “Turns out I had a gift packed up in the corner of my mind to keep me…” from going mad “...entertained.”

“Ah, I see,” Cedric noted, staring down at the vial in his hand, not acknowledging what Harry was obviously hinting at.  

“Myea,” Harry prompted.

Cedric looked away, his hands playing with the empty vial.

“Did he… say anything? Dumbledore?” Harry tried again. 

Cedric frowned. “Like what?”

“I don’t know.”

“He didn’t share the location of Voldemort's hideout if that’s what you’re curious about.”

Harry pursed his lips. “He probably wouldn’t have even if I did ask him again. I fucked up last time. I didn’t succeed and so he probably thinks, I'm not the-

Cedric shrugged. “Well, you came back anyway and so the deal you made with the White Place obviously proves you are.”

“Don’t think there was ever a deal at all,” Harry admitted. “Not with a place like that. It’s… it’s- how long did it take me to wake up, you said?”

Cedric still didn’t look at him, his jaw working as he studied the lineup of beds in the far corner. “Too long. Way too long.”

Harry sighed, leaning forward. “Rickie, are you angry with me?”

“I don’t know, Haz.”

“It all comes back to the Caeriw estate again, doesn’t it, huh?”

“The worst thing is I kinda get it, you know? If I had an opportunity like that I would have taken it myself as well. I just wish…” He shook his head. “I just wish you had called me. Or if not me, fine, but maybe called somebody from the Order, you know? Literally anyone. To back you up. There’s a strength in numbers, you know? We almost-” He squeezed the vial. “We almost didn’t make it in time.”

“How did you…?”

“Moody,” Cedric said.

“Ah, and Riddle?”

Cedric didn’t ask him how come he didn’t know what happened. He kinda did have the memories of young Harry waking up, but they were muddled by the chaos of it all and he didn’t feel like digging in deep enough to find the answers. 

“Apparated away after he sent a hoard of Inferi at us.”

“Oh, and-”

“Everybody’s fine, Haz, don’t worry.”

“What… what about the elves in the kitchens? I haven’t-”

Cedric looked over at him then. “Ah, Cappi and Kinni?”

“Oh, I… didn’t know that’s what their names were. I just… they helped me find him, helped me find you back in… when was that? Last year? I don’t even know anymore.”

“I took them in,” Cedric said. “They joined in with my ancestral home. Plenty of magic for them to enjoy for years to come.”

“Ah.”

Cedric nodded.

The silence stretched. 

“You’re a good guy, you know,” Harry said to disturb it. 

Cedric didn’t reply to that though. And so Harry decided to push harder. “I couldn’t have chosen a more worthy champion to leave behind in my stead.”

“Is this one of your tricks again?” Cedric reeled back. “Trying to lull me into some kind of a secure feeling while you sneak out back to fight the Dark forces all by yourself again?”

“Nah.” Harry laughed. “I think… I think I’ll leave that to you after all. Even if I did want to, I… I think I’m not-”

Cedric looked over at him. “I am not the Chosen one. Isn’t that what you keep insisting on?”

“I wonder… you might be.”

“Those seer abilities coming back to you?”

“Yeah actually.” He leaned back, pressing his forefinger against his own forehead. “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…”

“Haz….”

“And the Dark Lord will mark him as a spare, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…”

“Haz, stop it.”

“Unafraid of toil-"

“Stop it!” Cedric jumped off the chair, pacing in front of the bed. “Stop it, please. How can you joke at a time like this?”

“I’m not joking though.”

“Well, fuck that,” Cedric said. “What do you want from me? What do you want me to do, Haz? Just... you tell me not to grab the cup, I do it. You tell me to help you save people, I do it. You tell me to collect the horcruxes, I do it. I did everything you asked of me!”

“I just-”

“You just what? Now you want me to kill Voldemort? Is that it? How am I supposed to do that, I can’t even- that’s not a one-man job, for Merlin’s sake!”

“You cou-”

“Why do people always expect these impossible things from me? I try… I try so hard to please them all, I choose Hufflepuff, I become the Quidditch captain, I become the Head Boy, the Triwizard champion,... and yet none of it is enough, i just... unafraid of toil you say? I hate it. I hate it so much. Will people just stop demanding shit from me? Will you just... will you just accept that I don’t want this? I don’t want to go on a stupid single-man suicide mission just for the glory of it . I don’t want it.”

“What do you want then?”

“I want you to say you’ll fight this. I want you to say you will talk to the healer and that you will-” He left that sentence unfinished, pausing in front of him to stare him down, his face torn. “That we will…” He waved his hands, unsure. 

“Rickie…”

“Haz,” Cedric pleaded.

“Just leave it be,” Harry reasoned. “Just move on. Forget about me. Focus on yourself. Focus on-”

“Forget about you?” Cedric stared at him, shaking his head in disbelief. “How can I just move on… after all this? How can I…? Ever since I met you back at the World’s Cup, Haz, ever since then I keep waiting for you to pop back into my life, to appear back in this body. My life is fragmented into these months clumped together where I scramble up to make sure the life you saved is worth it and all the while I- I hope to hear a call that you got back and then… and then you’re here and it’s always just a glimpse of you, short and turbulent and it leaves me… wanting ,” he breathed, pressing his hand against his chest.

“Rickie…”

“And I- I always tell myself I’m gonna make the most out of it. I am going to make the most out of every fragile moment we get.” His mouth turned down, his hand clenching the front of his shirt. “And then… and then I never do. It runs out so fast, Haz. It runs out on us saving each other, saving other people, fighting and arguing about stupid shit, about crucial shit… over and over and over , time slipping away, the windows shortening, I- Haz, how is this- how can you want me to just move on? There is nothing to- not anymore.”

Harry opened his mouth, closed it, shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to… I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn't mean to what …?”

“I didn’t save your life only to claim it for myself.”

“That’s not something you get to choose though, is it?”

“Just… choose somebody else.”

Cedric laughed, his hands flying up in disbelief. “Like who?”

“I don’t know… Cho.”

“Haz.”

“Or Mic, I don’t know.”

Cedric gave him a look.

“Literally anybody else.”

“There is nobody else. Nobody who compares to you…”

“You say that now, but if you… if you just give it time, if you just-”

Cedric snorted. He shook his head.

“Somebody… somebody more substantial than me,” Harry continued. “Somebody who will be there for you more than for an hour every three months. Somebody you won’t have to keep waiting for.”

“I know, I… I get what you’re saying. I get it. And I know even if we’d never work out, I know it’s not the end of the world. I know that. But… just to lay it out there: I would, you know… wait for you.”

“How can I ask you to keep waiting for me?” he wondered in a hushed voice. “These windows you speak of, I am running out of them, Rickie. Soon there will be none left. Soon I won’t even-”

“Why would that change anything? Why would the fleetingness of life change anything, Haz? Life’s been fleeting all long.”

“Ah, damn, Rickie…I-”

“Can’t you… can’t you at least try? Please?” Cedric said. “I don’t even care if it’s… not even for me. This… I didn’t mean for it to spiral into this. I just- This is not about me, okay? Not about you fighting to stay with me . I want you to stay here for yourself. For yourself, Merlin .”

Harry watched him. “For myself, you say? I don’t even know who that is anymore.” He looked down at his hands, wiggling his fingers. 

“A fucking hazard, that’s what you are. I can’t-”

Harry laughed. “A hazard, you say?”

“Shut up, just shut up, Merlin, I-” Cedric turned around, pressing his hands against his face, letting his fingers travel up into his hair, down to the back of his neck where they intertwined shakily. He bowed forward, his shoulders coming up. “Ugh, I’m tired. I’m so tired of all of this, seriously…”

Harry watched him try and fail to breathe through it.

“You know,” he said slowly. “There is this thing I heard of, great for when feeling tired and frustrated.”

Cedric lifted his head. “Huh, is there?”

“Yeah, heard it can do wonders.”

“Wonders, you say? I could use a wonder.”

Harry spread his arms.

Cedric’s eyebrows rose. He pursed his lips against a smile. “Using my own strategies against me, huh, Potter?”

Harry gave him a sheepish shrug.

“Merlin.” Cedric turned away, rubbing at his eyes. “I can't with you.”

“Just come here, Rickie... come on,” Harry said, beckoning him in. He even scooted to the side for good measure to create more space for Cedric.

“Honestly,” Cedric muttered, but did not fight it any longer. He crawled over and plopped on top of Harry, letting him encircle him in a loose hug. “You’re giving me mixed signals, you know?”

They just breathed together for a couple of moments, their breaths too erratic to sync completely, their voices silent. 

“There's just no beating the martyrdom out of you, is there?” Cedric whispered, his hair tickling Harry’s nose. “Unbreakable circle, that one.”

“What.” Harry asked, patting his back. “No, I-“ he paused. “I mean… well .”

“Yes, I'm glad you noticed. You're just doing the same thing all over again, you moron,” Cedric said. “People travel back in time to do things differently, you know. You didn’t get the memo, did you?”

“Well, but I’m not-”

“ Guess I'll die then . That’s pretty much it, isn’t it?”

“Well…”

Cedric sighed. He brought up his hand to rub at his eyes. “I just don't get it.”

“You don't?” Harry snorted, pinching his shoulder softly. “May I remind you of the third task where you volunteered to grab the fucking cup to die for me?”

“I didn't grab it though, did I?” Cedric said, flopping his arm back over Harry’s torso.

“That’s just because I told you not to. You-”

“Because I, look, years ago I would have probably said I didn’t grab it, because I was a coward.”

Harry opened his mouth.

“But I just- I just really wanted to live, you know? To keep on living for a bit longer. There’s just so much-”

“Rickie…”

Cedric lifted his head to look at him. “I mean, don't you want to? Live?”

“I-”

“I know you said you have nobody else to live for,” Cedric said, bracing his chin with his hands so it wouldn’t dig into Harry’s chest. “And that’s… a bit hurtful, I guess, but fine.”

“Rickie… I’m s-”

“But that's not how life works though, is it? It’s not something you're supposed to do for others.”

“Um.”

“Is there nothing you enjoy anymore? Things that feel impossible to let go of? Things you wanna do over and over again. Things that are so amazing you’d want to experience them again? That you-”

“Things.” Harry shook his head, looking up at the ceiling. “I was never really one to-”

“I mean like... flying a broom or like… stuff you never did, but you really want to try before you die, you know?” Cedric hummed. “I mean, I know you did the most fantastical stuff in your youth, but like… isn't there something more still? How can you just… decide you’re done?”

“I tried, Rickie, after the war… I tried to do stuff to have fun, but I just…” Harry shrugged. “None of the things were fun anymore.”

“None of them at all?” Cedric wondered.

“Is that so hard to believe?”

“Come on, you went out to fly and it was no fun? At all?”

“I just…” Harry mulled it over for a moment. “I lost the Nimbus to the Whomping Willow and then Sirius gave me the Firebolt and I lost that too during the… one of the- and then Hedwig died and I just… I couldn't really enjoy it much anymore, not really. I just kept thinking back to-”

“Wait, what?” Cedric pushed himself off him. “You didn’t get a new broom after that? But… future brooms?!”

“I guess I- I just used an old... I think the last time I rode a broom it was probably at Weasley’s. I don't... know, huh.”

“Huhh?” 

“I just... I’m telling you it kinda lost its appeal.”

“Lost its appeal,” Cedric repeated. “You know what? No.” He slapped his chest, grabbed at the front of his shirt and tried to pull him up like that. “Get up. Get up right now.”

“Huh, what?”

Cedric waved his hand in the direction of the window and Harry could tell there was some magic going on, but it was wandless and nonverbal and he didn’t-

“Rickie, what?”

“You could have fucking ridden futuristic brooms, Potter, and you didn’t. Blasphemy.”

“You sound like Oliver Wood... well, the young version of him anyway. Or well…” Harry squinted. “Possibly the future version of him as well now. I’m not sure.”

“And you sound like a... Merlin, I’m so annoyed with you,” Cedric seethed, climbing off the bed. He pulled Harry up with him.

“What about dragons?” Harry asked, following. 

“What about them?

“Would that count? I rode a dragon once. Or maybe twice? I can’t quite recall…”

Cedric pulled him over to the window. “It doesn’t.” He let go of him then, opening it wide.

“What about hippogriffs, do those count?” Harry wondered. “How about thestrals? Or centaurs? This one time, I-”

Cedric shook his head in disbelief. And then there was a loud whooshing sound and two school brooms sailed right into his waiting hands.

Harry’s grin widened. He leaned in, his voice growing more hushed. “I rode a couple of guys back in my days as well,” he whispered. “Would that count?”

Cedric spluttered, pressing one of the brooms against his chest. “Just- just get on, Merlin .”

Harry laughed, mounting the broom. “Okay. How about a flying car? A flying motorbike?”

Cedrick stayed silent as he mounted his broom. He guided it carefully through the window and then flew out of the castle into the crisp morning air.

“That was all before the war though, wasn't it?” he wondered when Harry joined him outside. “How about after?”

Harry took a deep breath in, the fresh spring air soothing. He looked around the Hogwarts’ grounds laid out in front of them, at the Forbidden Forest stretching out behind, at the vast endless sky up above. “Hmm, just the guys then I guess,” he said, distracted.

Cedric gave him a seething look. “Well… was that any good?”

“Err, well, sure... it wasn't a dragon though.”

“Honestly… I can’t with you.”

They drifted through the air, their feet catching on the tops of the conifer trees of the Forbidden Forest. Harry swung his legs around, kicking idly at one of the tree tops.

“Funny,” he noted, watching the movement of it. 

“Hmm?”

“You gave me a broom memory, remember? The first one you got. It’s all I can think of right now. Weirdly enough.”

“Ah, yea… I love that one.”

“Yeah, I-” Harry squinted into the distance. “I had a broom like that once. My parents got it for me when I was one year old, could you believe that? I- I mean, I don’t remember, but I found a photo of it once, found a letter… to Sirius. Found it in his room after he died.”

“Ah, yeah, it's pretty common among wizarding children, true, a practice broom like that.” Cedric shook his head. “The sticking charm on that thing for a one year old though, that must have been a mess. Your parents probably steered that thing for you, you know that, right? Nobody’s that skilled. Not even the great Harry Potter.”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, no, I guess not.” He pulled at the broom then, flipping it over to hang upside down. Looked over at Cedric with a grin.

Cedric frowned, looking confused for a second. “I- I’m not gonna win that one,” he said, but followed suit. 

They hang there for a bit, staring over at the Hogwards castle, at the towers balancing precariously over the cloudy skies. 

“I forgot… I think,” Harry whispered. 

“Forgot?”

“How much fun it is, flying…” he admitted. “I feel like... I just- it got buried underneath all the shit that I went through and I just couldn't dig it out again, the good feeling of it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that.”

“But I think… I think perhaps…”

Cedric just kept looking at him, the morning sun glowing through the curtain of his brown hair, painting it golden. 

“I think perhaps I could grow to like it again if-” Harry looked away, clenching his jaw shut. He climbed back on the broom. “You win,” he said, defeated.

Cedric swung up as well, guided his broom closer, looked over at him with the kindest of smiles. “You're allowed to want things for yourself, Haz, you know?”

Harry couldn’t look at him. He shook his head, his shoulders sagging. “Not in this situation, I’m not,” he said, propelling his broom forward to lead it back to the castle.

He wasn’t fast enough to escape Cedric’s silent plea though. “Don't grab that cup, Haz,” he called after him. “Don't grab it just yet.”

Chapter 21

“Fucking hell,” Harry sighed when he squinted up into the light of the fake King’s Cross Station. His fingers came up to his face, rubbing at his eyes. “Can’t you just pick one? Keep me here or let me go or send me on my merry way, I don’t know, just decide, goddamni-”

A series of soft chirrups interrupted his tirade.

Harry lowered his hands and looked down at the sparrow staring over at him from where it was perched on his chest. Harry couldn’t feel its tiny talons poking through his shirt, he couldn’t feel it moving around as it jumped back and forth, couldn’t feel the flutter of its wings as it rustled them around restlessly, just the sight of it was enough to ease something heavy in his chest though.

The sparrow jumped back as he pushed himself up, its wings fluttering to carry it down to the glowing white floor and Harry paused at the sight of it. It wasn’t just the one sparrow, no, it was a whole host of them, staring up at him, their wings ready.

“Show me,” Harry said eagerly, looking around to see if he could spot the wooden box. It was nowhere to be seen though, there was just the stark whiteness of the King’s Cross, dulled by the dozen upon dozens of wooden sparrows.

“Show me more.” The sparrows took flight. The air around him filled up with their restless bodies, flying in a tight loop all around, their feathers stretching out to cover the light around, spinning around him faster and faster until all he could see was a blurred sort of brown, until all he could hear was the rising echoing song of their chirrups.

And then from one second to another, the flock of them dispersed and Harry was no longer sitting on the glowing floor of his fucked-up Purgatory. He was sitting on the cobblestone pavement of the Diagon Alley.

Harry exhaled and got up to his feet, the witches and wizards passing him by blind to his presence as he turned around taking the sight of the whole street - so nostalgic and yet so new in it's old attire - no outburst of vibrant colors around the Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, no shining golden dome of the newly reconstructed Gringotts’ roof that he basically paid for in reparations after the, from the time he first came through the brick wall behind the Leaky Cauldron, back when everything magical was still a marvel to him. 

He spotted Cedric just a few paces up the alley, walking down with Cho and Mic, Cedric's grandparents strolling leisurely behind them, pausing in front of a shop or another to chat with the clerks coming out to greet them. Harry walked up to them, paused next to Cedric, studying his cheeks reddened by the summer heat beating down on them, the messy hair caressed by the gentle breeze. He couldn’t have been more than eleven. 

"Look, here it is," Cho said, waving around her Hogwarts' shopping list in front of Mic. “It says that students may also bring a toad or a cat or an owl.”

"Well, that's-" Mic's eyes flew to the side where Cedric's grandparents were busy talking to a witch just a few shops away. " Bullshit ," he hissed. "Toads are for old people and I can't just bring a cat or an owl! We're Myomancers, for Merlin's sake, they can’t expect me to just-?"

"Just because it’s not on the list doesn't mean it’s forbidden," Cedric reasoned. "I mean the Carrows-"

"Maybe don't use the Carrows as an example?" Cho said. "Even if they do have rats in their family crest."

"Well, I'm pretty sure the Weasley twins have a rat or two as well." He turned to Mic. "Don't they?"

Mic made a face at that. "Scabbers, yea, but that's... like, don't tell them I said that, but that's one weird rat. I wouldn’t trust it with Divination."

Harry snorted.

"Weird or not, I’m sure they’re going to take it to Hogwarts and so it can't be forbidden," Cedric concluded.

Cho nodded at that. “And I don’t think Angelina would leave her bat behind either, so you might as well take some of your rats with you. What’s the worst they can do?”

“Feed them to the bloody owls!” Mic grumbled. “Or to the cats!” He folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe it’s for the better if I leave them at home. Hogwarts is obviously full of predators that would just try to eat them.”

“Not the toads though,” Cho noted.

“Nobody’s gonna bring toads!”

“Toads?” came from above them, Cedric’s grandma finally joining them in front of the Eeylops Owl Emporium. “Toads were the most  fashionable pets back in my day. Especially for those who wanted to join the choir.”

“And for those who didn’t, it was pigeons,” Cedric’s grandpa spoke up from next to her. “I still think the war did them a great disservice, the poor birds, just cast aside like that, exchanged for owls… how are owls inconspicuous, huh? Give me a flock of pigeons any day. No muggle bats an eye when pigeons peruse around in big flocks at any given time. Owls though… remember the debacle back at the end of the war? Merlin forbid we celebrate right where the Muggles can see us.”

“Eldrich and his big pigeon conspiracy,” Cedric’s grandma joked.  “Next thing you know he’s gonna be exchanging the sparrow in our crest for a pigeon.”

“Tell me I’m wrong, Agatha,” Cedric’s grandpa said. And then turned over to the kids. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I vote for pigeons,” Mic spoke up, raising his hand. 

Cedric’s grandpa smiled. “Atta boy.” 

“I like my owl, sorry,” Cho said, scrunching up her nose.

“Oh, we’re at an impasse, my friends.” He turned to Cedric then. “Rickie…?”

Cedric’s grandma leaned in closer as well. “Keep in mind that we are here to pick your own owl. If you vote against it-”

“Oh, that’s cheating!”

Cedric’s grandma pushed her husband out of the way. “Keep in mind also that I am your favorite person in the whole wide world and so-”

“Agatha, really?”

“I mean, I bought him his first broom. That’s a Patronus memory right there,” she said, gesturing at Cedric who was giving them both a wide smile.

Harry couldn’t help but mirror it. 

“Oh really? Well, I taught him how to fly that broom, so… Rickie?”

The loaded expectation on their faces made Cedric turn his eyes towards the cobblestone, his smile faltering. “Umm,” he managed to get out before the awkward press of his lips silenced whatever he was gearing up to say.

“Let’s just go get that owl, shall we?” his grandma proposed quickly, not drawing any attention to it. 

Mic and Cho followed her to the Eeylops Owl Emporium, unaware of the torn expression on his face, his hesitant movements. 

“Go on, Rickie,” his grandpa encouraged, squeezing his shoulder. 

Cedric gave him a small smile and followed in with Harry right behind him. They ducked in through the wide opened purple door, avoiding a cage or two that hung a tad too low for Harry and entered a wide space with a ceiling full of empty cages of all sizes, colors, adorned with ornaments or plain simple.

Cedric and his grandparents clustered around the clerk, who led them over to the left side to rows upon rows of simple cages that the adult owls used to nap over the day, the silencing charm shimmering in front of them protecting their sleep from the sounds of the bustling street beyond.

Mic stayed behind, his nose scrunched up in something akin to distrust. 

“Hey, let’s go have a look at the babies,” Cho proposed after noticing the expression on his face. She pulled him over to the opposite corner, to a darkened area with small hideaways that hosted tiny babies cuddled up to each other.

Harry followed them over curiously.

“Aww, look at this one,” Cho exclaimed, pointing at the fluffed up ball nearest to her. “Looks exactly like my Accio.”

“I still can’t believe you called your owl that ,” Mic muttered, peering down at the baby owl.

Cho shrugged. “I thought it would be funny.”

“It is,” Mic agreed.

Harry’s eyes wandered over the display, content to just watch the little fluffy balls snooze away while Cedric decided on which owl to buy behind him. He wondered, if-

And then his eyes landed on a tiny ball of feathers curled up in a hideaway in the far left corner. He walked around Mic and Cho, ignoring their chatter and stepped in close, staring into the dark tree hollow.

“Oh, no way…” he whispered because there she was, tiny and fluffed up, not fully white yet, but sorta grayish and slightly tattered around the edges the way owl babies usually are, but it was her alright. It was her, he was sure of it.

“Hi, girl,” he breathed out, the words grating against the back of his throat as he pushed them out. He reached over slowly as to not startle the baby owl, despite the fact that he wouldn’t startle her, because this was just a memory, just a-

“Hedwig,” he cooed, caressing the turf of feathers on her tiny head. He couldn’t feel the texture of them, couldn’t feel the warmth of her, but just the sight of her- just the sight of her existing in this tiny dark place, alive and well. It-

 “Look at you… so tiny…” he choked out.

And then as if sensing him, which she obviously wasn’t, it must have been Mic and Cho moving in closer to survey all the babies, maybe their shadowy figures passing over her eyelids, maybe their muffled voices disturbing her sleep, but tiny Hedwig opened her eyes, her huge yellow eyes, and blinked sleepily over at him.

Harry gave her a watery smile. “You sleepy, girl? Yea?”

Hedwig opened her mouth and chirped. A shadow fell over her instantly, Harry wrenching his hand away by instinct, Mic squealing in the background, as a big snowy owl landed over Hedwig, her wings spread out to shield her away, her beak clutching a dead mouse.

“Ah, that your mommy…?” Harry watched them, enthralled. Hedwig opened her mouth again in a demanding screech. 

The owl deposited the mouse next to Hedwig, pressed her talons against its body and then started to rip it apart, feeding the flesh to Hedwig’s waiting mouth.

“Ew, what the fuck,” Mic exhaled, his hands flying up to his eyes.

“Well, they do need to eat, don’t they?” Cho soothed.

“Yeah, but…” Mic shook his head and walked back to Cedric and his grandparents. Cho followed suit not long after.

Harry glanced back at them, worried they were ready to leave, worried the memory would be over way too soon and when he did, he noticed the door to the back room ajar, warm sunlight streaming through. Sunlight that didn’t belong to the dim interior of the Eeylops Owl Emporium. 

He looked back at tiny Hedwig, hesitated, his eyes glazing over again, but the sunlight called to him, and so he gave her one last smile. “Be sure to grow big and strong, okay?” he told her. “So that a big hairy man can choose you for one Harry Potter in a year’s time.” And with that he walked through the back door and right into a grassy hill full of the tiniest flowers dancing in a summer breeze. He looked down to one side, spotting the now familiar cottage surrounded by strawberry fields and then turned his gaze towards the other side and noticed a silhouette lying splayed in the grass, watching the blue skies above.

He headed down the hill to join Cedric. His steps, messy within the grass, silent as ever, the rustle of his clothes unnoticeable.

“I ought to teach you how to extract memories properly, Rickie,” he said. He looked down at Cedric, at his sun-kissed hair, at the warm red cheeks, at the shiny eyes, at the young face shy of thirteen. “We wouldn’t want to show people stray ones like these, would we?”

Harry looked up at the sky, searching for the connection this stray memory used to sneak itself in, to get stuck to the memory of the Eeylops Owl Emporium, a connection piece, similar to the broom before. And there it was, high in the sky, an owl gliding down to meet Cedric.

The British Barn owl descended down, ignoring that Harry was in its way. It landed directly on Cedric’s chest, eliciting a loud oomph! out of him.

It hooted down at him, blinking unhappily. 

“I was paying attention,” Cedric muttered, pushing its feet out of the way to pat at his chest. The owl hooted down at him again, fluttering its wings.

“I was,” Cedric insisted, raising his hand to wave it around in a flying pattern. He paused somewhere in the middle of a twirl and then dropped the hand. “For the most part anyway.”

The owl bent down to nip at his shirt. Cedric pushed its head away. “You’ll get there, I’m sure.”

He looked at the owl, lifting his hand again. “Through the channel,” he said, twirling his hand. “Over to France.” Cedric made a sharp twist with his hand. “Around the coastline.” He mimicked a long round glide. “To Belgium. To Bruges. To Granddad.” He patted the owl’s head. “To scare the shit out of his pigeons.” He smiled, but it turned watery as he continued to stroke through the soft feathers on the owl’s head. “To ask him how...” He pursed his lips. Didn’t finish.

A rustle in the grass nearby made the owl perk up, its head twisting to the side. Cedric’s eyes moved in the same direction.

“Go,” he said, nudging her off. “Meet you at home?”

The owl hooted in affirmation, readied its wings and took flight, leaving Cedric alone in the sea of grass. He watched her glide silently through the air and then flare her wings tight as she swung down to grab the prey below.

Cedric sighed, braced his hands against his knees and pushed himself up, walking slowly up the hill. Harry followed. They walked by an old ruin of a fireplace near the peak, down the hilltop, over through to the fields of tiny green strawberries, all the way to the cottage, that looked a lot less run down when Harry saw it in reality, but a lot more run down compared to the thriving shiny place of years ago he knew from Cedric’s childhood memory.

Cedric pried the big glass door open and walked in. Harry followed without a word, pausing in the doorway at the sight of the place. It was dark and dusty, Cedric but a silhouette peering up at the ceiling, forlorn and silent.

Harry lifted his gaze up.

“Oh,” he breathed. The ceiling was no longer a thriving oasis of life. It was just as dark and dusty as the rest of the room, void of the light the fireflies brought in, void of any movement whatsoever. The sparrows sat on the crooked beams, frozen in their crumpled poses, the spiders clung to the remains of their fragile webs, the caterpillars no longer eating away at the leaves, just curled up on the dry debris.

Harry abandoned the doorway, walking over to Cedric. “What happened?” he asked even though he knew the memory wouldn’t reply to him. “What happened to…?” he asked again, reaching out for him even though he wouldn’t be able to touch him.

Cedric tore his eyes away from the ceiling, his lips downturned against the sob escaping him, his eyes scrunched up against the tears threatening to spill. 

Harry caressed his biceps, his fingers passing through him. 

“How do I fix this?” Cedric sobbed, pressing his hands against his face, tapping his palm against his forehead. “I don’t know how to fix this.” He cried.

Harry’s hand rose up to his face, passing through the hands, through his temple, Cedric unaware of the touch, unaware of the attempt to soothe his despair. He let his hand fall back, looking down at the floor. At the dusty footsteps Cedric left behind as he shuffled around, at the ones his own shoes failed to create. 

“How do I…?” Cedric repeated, breaking the sentences off before they could be truly finished. “I don’t know how…”

Harry stepped away. “Oh, I shouldn’t have watched this one,” he said, the realisation hitting him stronger than the hook ripping at his insides. “I shouldn’t have-”

_

 

Harry opened his eyes to an old, balding wizard with a quavery old voice and pince-nez glasses hovering above him as he sat crumpled on the base of a staircase. 

“Oh, there we go,” professor Tofty said. “Welcome back, Mr. Potter. Can’t stop fainting at exams, can we? Not to worry, not to worry, it happens.”

Harry pulled himself up, the cup he didn’t even notice holding in his hand tilting forward precariously. Professor Tofty pressed his hand against it, preventing it from spilling over.

“Drink your water,” he instructed. “And then we’ll return back to the exam, what do you say?”

“Ah, right,” Harry croaked. “The N.E.W.T.s.” He lifted the cup to his lips, drank the water inside that tasted like fire and ash and it didn’t even surprise him, similarly to the empty vial of phoenix tears in his pocket that wouldn’t surprise him either.

Professor Tofty nodded. “The transfiguration N.E.W.T.s, Mr. Potter, indeed.”

Harry looked around the silent entrance hall of the castle, at the walls without any holes blasted in them, at the floor without any traces of blood, at the robust door that wasn’t busted open out of its hinges. 

 “Might as well,” he decided. “I could use an Outstanding in Transfiguration.”

“That’s the spirit!” Professor Tofty exclaimed and straightened up. Harry stood up and followed him through the door leading to the Great Hall and just as the door closed behind him, he sent out his Patronus to find Cedric and bring him here.

The Great Hall was full of his former yearmates - he could see the Gryffindors lined up on the benches along the wall as they awaited their turn - Lavender Brown rehearsing her wand movements frantically at the end of it, Hermione whispering to Ron as she pointed out things to him in a thick tome laying across her lap somewhere in the middle ot if, Neville looking like he was going to be sick, the wand gripped tightly in his fist to the side of it. 

The Slytherins were sitting on the periphery, doing very much the same, albeit their numbers were low, most of them still locked in their ancestral homes. The ones remaining were half-bloods like Tracey Davis who stood stiffly near her own examiner, her cup sporting spines as she coaxed it into the shape of a curled up hedgehog.

Hufflepuffs seemed the most calm of the lot, waiting patiently on their bench as Ernie Macmillan transfigured the cup in front of him into a blown-up pufferfish, its head fairly cup-shaped still, but round none-the-less. Susan Bones gave him an encouraging thumbs up gesture from the bench just as Harry was watching her, her smile wide.

The Ravenclaws seemed to be a real mess - Terry Boot doing quite well with his own cup, although he was sweating all over the place, his wand movements were fluid, only a bit shaky; his voice strong, only a tad shrill. The cup, a cup no longer, but a curled-up armadillo.

Professor Tofty waved over to the stand in front of his station. “Transfigure the cup to an animal of your own choosing,” he said as Harry deposited his now empty cup on the stand.

Harry’s eyes strayed over to the other three animals on the stands next to his own.

“Sorta redundant to let everybody see what the others are choosing, isn’t it?” he wondered. The test seemed to be the same as it had been at the end of his Eighth year. He chose a hedgehog then too, seeing Hermione choose it before him. 

“That might be,” professor Tofty noted. “But every student knows to choose an animal of the correct size and shape to improve their chances of getting it right. There is no harm in showing them what the options are. It doesn’t necessarily lead to better results now, does it?”

“I suppose, it doesn't,” he agreed, returning to his own cup. “How about we go for something more fun then? Change the shape and the size?”

Professor Tofty’s eye crinkled behind his spectacles. “I didn’t expect anything else from you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry looked over at the cup and said: “ Come on out .” The Parseltongue glid off his tongue like sizzling candy. The cup started to unfurl then, its red ceramic dividing into a rope like shape, the surface growing shiny and scaled. The body grew heavy within moments, spilling over, the snake unfurling as it grew in size. Its head rose up from the bottom of the cup, its eyes alert, its fangs on display as it reared back and showed off its hood for everyone to see. 

Professor Tofty’s eyebrows jumped up. “What an unusual choice,” he noted, studying the cobra from behind his spectacles. “Adorned with the markings on the hood?”

Harry hissed at the cobra to turn around. “And the venom,” he added.

“No way to test that one now,” professor Tofty muttered, writing down a couple of notes. “But I’ll take your word for it.” He nodded, looking back up. “Now conjure the exact same animal to accompany it and I must warn you,” he said, pointing at Ernie on the side who was attempting to just duplicate his animal with a simple charm. “That something like that wouldn’t be wise. A perfect duplication will be written off for a bad conjugation. It might earn you some points, but not an Outstanding.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” Harry said, spreading his hand to present a perfectly conjurated second cobra rising up on the pedestal, its hissing threatening, its dance alluring.

“Ah, well done, Mr. Potter. And banish them both for me real quick, if you will?”

Harry smiled, the two snakes disappearing with ease. “What’s next?”

“Human Transfiguration,” professor Tofty announced, leaning forward. “Are you going to surprise me with an animagus form, Mr. Potter?” he wondered eagerly. “I believe your father-”

“I’m afraid not.” Harry laughed.

Professor Tofty leaned back in his seat to look down at the piece of paper in front of him. “Very well. Go ahead and copy any of my features.” He waved to his face.

Harry glanced to the side again. He watched Tracey Davis’ hair flare up as it changed colors from brown to grey and shortened down to a inch into a messy sort of bowl cut her own examiner had. Ernie Macmillan bared out his teeth and created a very impressive replica of his own examiners' yellowed and crooked fangs. Terry Boot tapped at his nose and changed its shape to mirror the pointy elf-like one his own examiner had.

Harry snorted. “Asking Harry Potter to disguise himself?” he muttered in disbelief. He brought up his hands, channeling his magic to seep through them as he pressed them against his face. Sliding his hands up, his magic doing it’s bidding, the movement bit by bit revealing a fully transfigured face, the sagging jaw covered in wispy hairs, the big nose, the high cheek-bones, the downturned dark eyes with prominent crow’s feet at the corners, the bushy brown eyebrows and the bold top of the head encircled by sparse grey hair. He grinned over the professor, his teeth white and shiny, same as his own dentures.

Professor Tofty frowned. “As impressive as that is, I am afraid glamour won’t count, Mr. Potter. This is a Transfiguration exam,” he tutted. “Would you like to try again?”

“Would you like to counter it?” Harry proposed. “The glamour .”

Professor Tofty waved his wand in Harry’s direction, a string of counter-courses leaving his mouth in a quick succession. Harry gave it a few moments and when nothing happened, he offered professor Tofty a shiny smile.

“Oh, that’s rather remarkable.”

Harry tilted his head in acknowledgment, forcing the foreign features off his face, restoring his own back to its full glory. 

“Nonverbal and wandless as well,” professor Tofty noted, writing it down. “I think it’s safe to say you passed with flying colours.”

Harry reached back to pat his side pockets. His wand was indeed there, right next to the empty vial he knew there to be there as well. He gave professor Tofty a sheepish shrug.

“And with a lock still fully intact, isn’t that right?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“An underage lock like none other,” Professor Tofty praised. “The raw power it must contain-”

Harry’s lips twitched. “I’ve been proven otherwise,” he admitted.

Professor Tofty gave him a lengthy stare. “It’s not always about the intensity of a sole scream, I agree,” he said slowly. “But rather about the symphony of many voices. One spell means nothing against a mass of many, no matter how strong the caster.” 

Before he could reply, his Patronus appeared next to him in a flash of gentle light. Harry glanced down at it, at the residual light trailing after it, leading his gaze back to the heavy set of doors, to the familiar figure leaning against it with arms folded over his chest and a mischievous smile playing on his lips. 

“Anything else?” Harry asked professor Tofty, his eyes never leaving Cedric’s. The Patronus dissolved slowly, its mission fulfilled. 

“No, Mr. Potter, that would be all.”

Nobody stopped him as he dashed towards Cedric. Not Hermione that seemed to have been gearing up to do so, not when Professor Tofty called upon her next. Not Ron who seemed too busy worrying about the exam itself to even pay attention to him. Not anybody else. Not that it mattered, he wouldn’t have let them stop him even if they did try.

“Having fun, Haz?” Cedric asked, his smile widening.

“Come on,” Harry said, grabbing his hand. He pulled him out of the Great Hall, up the nearest staircase to an abandoned hallway hidden from view by a gleaming suit of armor. He paused there for a second, a quick hiss spilling out of his mouth as he pressed his free hand against one of the stones embedded in the wall. It felt like an eternity before the opening was big enough, before the stones were out of the way, before the tunnel opened up to them, but once it did, Harry yanked Cedric in, turning around to catch him into his arms as he stumbled forward before the wall could even begin to close, before the darkness of the tunnel could hide them away properly.

Cedric let out a surprised rush of air, his arms flailing, but Harry only pulled him closer at that, enveloping him in a tight hug, his hands pressing against his spine, his cheek resting against his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Cedric breathed, his tone bewildered, but his hands steady as he hugged Harry back. The wall closed behind them, drenching their surroundings in dim darkness.

They stood there motionlessly for a few moments, their breaths silent, their hearts louder than ever.

“You good?” Cedric asked then, the question echoing gently in the tunnel around them.

“Yeah, fine,” Harry said, not letting go.

Cedric nodded. 

“You?” Harry asked, whispering the question into his shoulder. “What about you? How are you doing?”

Cedric snorted. “Fine.” He ran his hands up Harry’s back, patting him gently when he reached his shoulder blades. “What’s this about?”

Harry gripped the back of his shirt. “I just… I’m sorry. I just dropped this whole thing into your lap and let you deal with it all by yourself.”

Cedric hummed, his fingers sliding over the collar of his shirt, touching the heated skin at the back of his neck. “What is this really about?”

“I… I watched something I shouldn’t have,” Harry confessed.

“Is this about my memories?” Cedric guessed. “I gave them to you so that you can watch them. It’s alright to do so.”

“Not these, these were stray ones.”

The fingers caressing the back of Harry’s neck stilled. “Stray ones?” Cedric inquired, his tone cautious. “What does that mean?”

Harry pressed his forehead against his shoulder. “Extracting separate memories from the stream of consciousness inside your brain is not always easy. Oftentimes, memories are clumped together, tied together by a thread, by a specific feeling, a specific subject, something and so when you attempt to pull one of them out, some of them follow without your knowledge - stray ones.”

“Ah.” Cedric lifted his head, thinking. “Last time you were here, you said you saw the broom memory, didn’t you?”

Harry nodded.

“So the stray one…?”

“Cho, Mic and you deciding what houses to choose,” Harry confessed.

The fingers at the back of his neck twitched. “I see,” Cedric noted. “That’s a rather boring one, isn’t it?”

Harry pursed his lips.

“It’s not the one you are sorry for looking at though, is it?” Cedric continued. “What did you get to see this time around?”

“The day you chose your owl.”

Cedric took a breath in as if to steel himself. “And what was it tied to?”

“To you training your owl to get over to your granddad,” Harry admitted in a rush of words. “To ask about the-”

Cedric’s hand fell off the back of his neck, sneaking in between them to push against his chest. Harry stepped back, but before Cedric could pull off completely, he grabbed his hand and kept it on his chest. “You said the house elves joined with your ancestral home, but your ancestral home-”

Cedric’s hand went lax in his. “-is dead,” he finished. “It’s been dead ever since my gran died a couple of years back.” He shook his head, turning his head away from Harry. His hand twisted in his hold, but did not leave it. “If it’s the house elves you’re worried about, they’re fine, the Diggory residence has enough magic left to sustain them for years to come.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Harry said earnestly. 

Cedric tugged at his hand, sliding it out of his hold to plaster it against the back of his own neck, his fingers digging in tightly as he stared into the side. “I don’t suppose we can just pretend you didn’t see that,” he muttered. 

Harry reached over, putting his hand on his shoulder. “Maybe I could help?”

“Help?” Cedric asked, a harsh exhale escaping his mouth. “How do you think you could help?”

“I revived the Potter ancestral home when I was twenty years old. They thought it died when my dad was murdered, but it was just dormant, waiting for me,” Harry said. “I could show you how.”

“And you think we didn’t try that?” Cedric scoffed, his hand falling off his neck as he looked over at him. “It didn’t respond to any of us. It didn’t respond to my granddad, nor to my parents. It didn’t respond to me. We even tried calling upon members of our extended family in case the heirloom jumped over to them. None that managed to change a fucking thing.”

Harry gripped his shoulder, but Cedric shook the comforting touch off, stepping out of the way. “Nobody was able to help, not even the countless experts we had over in the last couple of years. They all said the same thing. It’s dead.”

“Magic doesn’t just die like that,” Harry couldn’t help but say.

“It doesn’t? What do you think is happening all over England now? To the purebloods that went on lockdown, that separated their ancestral homes from the inert magic in the air, in the soil, that are trying to keep it alive feeding it their own magic? What do you think will happen once they are sucked dry, once the ancestral homes have no more magic to sustain themselves?” Cedric demanded. “They’ll die. And that will be the end of it.”

“Is that what happened? To your ancestral home?” Harry hesitated for a moment. “To your gran?” he added in a hushed voice. 

Cedric leaned against the wall, pressing the top of his head against the cold stone as he stared at the curved jagged ceiling. “Not a lockdown, no.” He sighed in defeat and continued on in his explanation. “We still don’t exactly know what happened, because she didn’t tell us anything. She just kept feeding her magic to the ancestral home, she kept suffering through it all in silence, not confiding in anyone, not asking for any help and by the time we found out something was wrong, it was already too late. She died from magical deficiency and the home died not long after that.” Cedric lifted his hand to swipe it over his eyes. “They said the magic of the ancestral home was probably corrupted in one way or another. That it perhaps lost its connection to the inert magic around causing it to revert to gran as its only source.” His face scrunched up in a pained grimace. “If she had just told us , if she had just …” He shook his head. “I guess we’ll never know if that would change any of it, but...”

The silence that followed felt so oppressing that the only thing that dared to interrupt it was a stray drop of moisture somewhere near the entrance to the tunnel. Maybe it wasn’t a drop of moisture at all, maybe it was a tear falling off of Cedric’s jaw. It was too dark to tell.

Harry realized where he went wrong. “I’m sorry I brought it up,” he whispered helplessly. “I’m sorry I watched it at all. I’m sorry I presumed I’d be able to fix it.”

Cedric looked over at him silently.

“I really am,” Harry repeated. 

Cedric studied him for a moment longer, then sighed. “Don’t be,” he said, pushing himself off the wall. “I don’t necessarily mind you watching the memory even if it was a stray one. It’s just...” He shrugged. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that,” Harry said. “It’s no better than trying to legilimence-”

“Well.” Cedric smiled, stepping in closer. “I seem to recall you attempting to do just that back when we first met, remember? It’s part of your charm, really.”

Harry grimaced at that, hanging his head. “I don’t mean to pry…”

Cedric lifted his hands to press them against his cheeks. They were cold and rather moist from the stones lining the walls, but they made Harry’s cheeks burn regardless. “I don’t mind you prying,” he breathed as he coaxed Harry to look up at him. “I forced you to share so many of your struggles with me, I should be ready to do the same in return.”

Harry slid his fingers around his wrists holding them against his cheeks for just a moment longer as he watched him silently. “You shouldn’t…”

“I should…”

Harry shook his head, pressing his face down into Cedric’s palms.

Cedric moved forward at that, his face so close Harry could feel his breath rush through his hair, his lips touching his fringe. “I give you permission to watch them all, Haz, stray or not,” he whispered. 

“You don’t even know what the stray ones could be,” Harry muttered. “What if it’s something you’d never want anybody to see?”

“It’s alright if it’s you, Haz,” Cedric whispered.

Harry looked up at that, their noses brushing as he did so, their breaths mingling loudly in the echoing silence of the tunnel. And for a moment, for a moment brief enough to last a lifetime, Harry thought that one of them would surely move forward, one of them would surely lean in and breach that short distance dividing them, but in the end, both of them hesitated. Their eyes dropped down, their hands followed suit not too long after, their bodies moving apart. 

Harry cleared his throat, his cheeks still warm from Cedric’s hands. “There’s something else I saw in your memories.” 

“Yeah?” Cedric prompted, his hand back to rest against the back of his neck.

“Hedwig.”

“Your owl?”

“As a baby, yeah,” Harry said, a smile forcing its way onto his lips. “She was there when you went to pick out your owl, did you know that? Did you know that when you chose it?”

Cedric’s eyebrows went up at that. “I didn’t,” he answered, his tone incredulous. “It does make sense when you think about it though.”

Harry nodded. “I didn’t think I would ever see her again, but there she was, all tiny and-”

“You can see her, Haz,” Cedric interrupted.

“Huh?”

“She’s probably at the Owlery right now?”

Harry paused at that, his eyes growing wide with the realisation. “Oh… right, I knew that.”

Cedric smiled. “Why don’t we go pay her a visit, huh?” he proposed, jerking his head in the direction they came from.

“Let’s- we can use the tunnel, you know,” Harry said, pointing to the opposite side. “It will stretch out to the Owlery for me.” Just as he said so, the mouth of the staircase leading down to the Chamber of Secrets contracted, the stairs rising up, the tunnel turning sharply to the right.

“Oh, it will?” 

Harry nodded, beckoning him to follow the tight twist of the tunnel, the long descending slope of it afterwards. 

“It can just connect to random places? Other than the Chamber, I mean?” Cedric wondered. “How far out can it go? The Owlery is pretty far from the castle.”

“As far as I would need it to, really,” Harry said. “As long as there is a semblance of a brick wall with the original Hogwarts enchantment on it, that is. The Chamber connects those two places for me.”

“Ohh,” Cedric ran his hand over the stones on the wall. “What about the boathouse?”

Harry thought about it. “I guess so, there’s a brick wall there, after all.”

“Hagrid’s hut?”

“Oh yeah, I use it like that all the time.”

“Does it go up too? All the way to the towers?”

“Yeah. I think I’ve only ever gone to the Astronomy tower using it, but I’m sure it would connect to the rest too. It might just take a bit of time, it’s quite high up, after all.”

“That’s pretty nifty.”

Harry nodded. “There’s even a couple of places deep within the Forbidden Forest that it would stretch out to as well, old ruins from back when the Founders built the castle.”

“And all you need is to request it in Parseltongue?”

“Yep.”

“Could I do it?”

“Sure,” Harry said. “Just say haeshhaassa and fuel some magical intent into it so it knows where you wanna go. Like when you apparate.”

“ Haesh- ?”

“ Haeshhaassa ,” Harry repeated slowly. “It means open up .”

As if on cue, the wall in front of them opened up, leading them into the circular stone room of the Owlery, their shoes shuffling through the mess of straw, owl droppings and the occasional mouse skeleton. 

“What’s it called, by the way?” Harry asked, looking up to scan the hundreds or so cubicles filled with different kinds of owls. Most of them were dozing off on their perches, their heads tucked in, their feathers fluffed up. “Your owl.”

“Snidget.” A bunch of owls above them opened their eyes at the sound of the name, peering down at them. 

“Snidget?” The owls hooted down at them softly, waiting for further instructions.

“Not very original, I know,”Cedric waved them off quickly, allowing them to settle. “What can I say? Kids love Quidditch.”

“Yeah, that's true.” Harry allowed, reaching up a hand to wave at the snowy owl tucked in one of the cubicles beneath the roof. “Hedwig!” he called out to her.

Her eyes flew open immediately, her head turning to stare down at him. Even at that distance, Harry could see the bright yellow colour of them, piercing and gentle at the same time. 

“Hedwig, come here, girl.”

She flared out her wings, gliding down to him in a tight spiral. Harry turned around on the heel of his foot, watching her approach and then offered his arm for her to perch at, her talons gentle as she settled down and stuck out her foot to him.

Harry huffed out a laugh. “Nah, no mail today,” he said, stroking through her long feathers, the tips of them tickling the nerve endings on his fingers, the warmth of them prickling his skin follicles. “I just came to say hi.”

She climbed up at his shoulder, cuddling in close into the gap between his neck and his shoulder - as close as she could being as big as she was, anyway - and then leaned down to peer at his fingers, pecking at them when she found them empty.

“Here,” Cedric said, dipping his hand in one of the endless pockets in his coat to take out a handful of owl treats.

“You carry those around?” Harry smiled, turning, so that Hedwig could snack on them right out of Cedric’s hand. He leaned his cheek into her side as he did so, feeling the fluttering tiny heartbeat inside, the warmth of her, the softness. 

Cedric shrugged. “Being an adult means carrying these with you at all times. It’s like people forgot owls should only fly out at night.”

“Wouldn’t have that problem with pigeons, would we?” Harry couldn’t help saying. Hedwig nipped at his ear as if she understood what he was saying. Which she probably did.

Cedric snickered. “I’m glad you’re enjoying the memories, you know?” he said earnestly.

“Yeah, it’s-,” Harry muttered, his cheek still nestled in the turf along her body. “It helps,” he admitted with a harsh exhale. “It really does.”

He could feel Cedric watching him, but didn’t dare to connect their eyes, staring resolutely at Hedwig’s feathers, smoothing them out with his fingers.

Cedric’s hand appeared in view then, touching his wrist. “Then I’m twice as glad you have something that helps while you’re stuck there,” he said, his voice oh-so kind.

Harry was barely able to handle it. He moved his hand out of reach, searching for something to say and landed on: “Still… you didn’t really have to go as far as giving me all your Patronus memories.” He hoped to pass it off as a joke, but he wasn't sure he succeeded much. Instead it seemed to have put Cedric on a spot. 

Cedric cleared his throat, tucking his hand away. “Actually, you know what? I think the professors got that one all wrong.” A tiny owl flew down to his shoulder peering curiously into his hand. He offered some of the treats to it as well. “I don’t think it’s happy memories that help us cast the Patronus charm. I think it’s the urge to protect.”

Harry hummed, thinking about it. 

“I mean-” Cedric shrugged, the movement spooking the tiny owl on his shoulder. It flew over to the nearest perch. Cedric reached out to offer her some treats in a silent apology. Harry moved Hedwig in closer as well. hugging her to his chest so that she could reach the treats. He ended up standing side-to-side with Cedric.

“You know, the first time I actually managed to cast a proper Patronus charm was in the third year, when the Dementors almost sucked Sirius dry. It was to protect him really,” Harry offered and when Cedric didn’t pick up his train of thoughts, he decided to add in a quick: “So, you might be onto something. I wasn’t even thinking of a happy memory back then, not really.”

Cedric nodded. “Yeah, I think that’s why it’s so hard for most people to cast it, because the theory behind it doesn’t add up properly. I mean, you can do those misty sort of shields easily enough, so it’s obviously not that off, but to cast a full corporeal thing in a stressful setting...”

“True,” Harry answered, pressing his face against the crown of Hedwig’s head. 

“I think the happy memory thing is probably more useful to like… to guard you against the worst symptoms of the Dementor’s aura?” Cedric continued. “Their presence sucks out all the happiness out of you and so casting a spell, any spell really, would be automatically harder. It weakens you, you don’t think you can do it and you lose the needed intent behind the spell and we all know intent is half the work when casting spells.” 

“Even more than that really.”

“Right? Weaker wizards might not even be able to cast anything at all when distressed. And so I think it makes sense in general to include a happy memory, you know? But the actual casting itself...”

“Yeah.” Harry squinted over at him. “I told the DA to focus on a happy memory, but I don’t think that’s what helped them produce a corporeal Patronus. They were so focused on learning to protect their loved ones…”

“Yes. It’s a protection spell and so the intent to protect makes so much more sense than-”

“It does actually.” Harry smiled. “It really does.”

“And then it can change shapes, can’t it?” Cedric continued. “To like… mostly to mirror some aspect of the person you most want to protect, like… well, I don’t actually know anybody whose Patronus changed, but I’ve read-”

“No, you’re right.” Harry nodded. “Tonks’ was a rabbit, but changed to a wolf when she was with Remus.”

“See! Wait… what?” Cedric stilled. “Oh, right, you did mention that before… that’s so weird.”

Harry just shook his head, pressing his hand against his face. “It’s so weird,” he agreed. “All of this. This whole reality. I can’t seem to stop comparing it to-” He turned his head to look out of the nearest window, to watch Hogwarts for a second before continuing. “Back in my original timeline, we didn’t even… exams, hah, I mean… there wasn’t- we were at war. Hogwarts was being torn apart right in front of our eyes, people were dying left and right, dropping like…” He closed his eyes against the onslaught of memories, against the ball of sadness growing inside his throat. “I can’t believe… I can’t believe it’s so peaceful now.”

Cedric shuffled closer, brushing their shoulders together. 

Harry tore his eyes away from the castle in the distance. 

“Sorry, I- anyway , your Patronus theory sounds very sound, you know, you should totally talk to-”

“Oh, shut it,” Cedric huffed, nudging his shoulder. “It’s nothing. I was just trying to redirect the topic of our conversation, really, is all.”

“It’s not nothing,” Harry pressed.

“Nah.”

“It’s not.” Harry exhaled. “You… everything you did, it’s not nothing . This is all thanks to you, you know?” He waved his free hand in the direction of the castle. “You know that, right?”

Cedric looked over at him briefly, his eyes dropping to a new owl that flew down just a few moments ago. It clung to his sleeve to have direct access to the treats in his hand. “It was a joint effort really.”

“It wasn’t,” Harry insisted. “I didn’t do anything. I just gave you the list and you… you did this all by yourself. You did it better than I ever could have.”

“Haz,” Cedric interrupted him, grabbing his biceps. The tiny owl flew down to the ground, annoyed at him. Cedric threw some treats down for her, his focus on Harry. “I need you to understand one thing - it wasn’t just me, alright? It was… so many people . I keep saying this is not a one-man mission and you are not hearing me, but you need to hear me now, alright?” The hand gripping Harry’s shoulder shook. “It isn’t. It really isn’t. Everybody I know is helping. The Order Members, the allied wizards, heck, even the old-school purebloods… if they didn’t go on lockdown… I know people laugh about it, call them cowards, but it’s not cowardice, it’s courage. To lock up your ancestral home…” He pressed his mouth against the end of the sentence. “And yet they did it. And they are still doing it despite everything. It’s a collective effort to drive Voldemort into hiding, to attempt to maintain the peace.”

“But if it wasn’t for you-”

Cedric let go of him and so Harry grabbed onto him instead. “You did all of these things for me, to help me. Don’t argue . Yes, you did, fuck collective effort, it was you , you working your ass off, you offering your own time to do it, while you could be doing other things, things that probably would have mattered more under normal circumstances.” They both knew what he meant even without him saying it. “I- I threw this thing at you, I demanded all of these things from you, but I- I’ve never thanked you, not properly, I never gave you anything in return. And yet you gave me everything I could ever need. Without hesitation. Without complaints.”

Cedric opened his mouth.

“Shut up. I know you want to argue, but I- I would like to… I owe you so much. This reality owes you so much. If I can do anything, Rickie, to pay you back for that, I will.”

“Then fight this, Haz.” Cedric said simply.

Harry threw his hands in the air in exasperation, Hedwig flaring her wings to keep herself from being shaken off. She flew over to the tiny owl on the perch in front of Cedric, pushing her away from the treats to have them for herself.

“Pick something else,” Harry pleaded. “Anything else.”

“There’s nothing else, Haz,” Cedric said, his voice hushed.

“Nothing else?” Harry scoffed in disbelief. “Can’t you just be a bit selfish for once and ask for something? Ask me.”

Cedric gave him a sad smile. “Selfish. I’m plenty selfish. Isn’t it selfish that I want you around instead of Harry? Isn’t that selfish enough?”

“Rickie…”

“Haz.” Cedric waved his hand around to stop his tirade. “I’ve been thinking… what about a horcrux…?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, it would tear you apart,” Harry breathed. “You know that. You must know that.”

Cedric nodded, looking down at the ground. “What about a spare body…?” He shook his head, running his fingers over his mouth. 

“Don’t go there, Rickie,” Harry warned. Or pleaded. He wasn’t sure which one if those was more prevalent in the tone of his voice 

Cedric pressed his fingers tightly against his mouth, the corners of his lips downturned. “I just wish I knew how to fix this.” He cleared his throat to continue but in the end said nothing more, his eyes moving to stare out of the window, his jaw locked stubbornly.

“Rickie…” Harry was at a loss for words as well. “Just let me repay you for…” He let the sentence end awkwardly, hoping against all odds Cedric would just give in.

Cedric didn’t reply though, staring silently at the tiny owl grooming its feathers near his foot. “This feels awfully like a goodbye,” he noted after a while, shuffling away from him.

“So what if it is? Might as well use the last few moments I have left for something that matters. And this matters. Hogwarts untouched, lives saved… this matters more than anything.” He looked over at Hedwig, looked over at Cedric. “Everything is so much better this time around and it’s all thanks to you. All my memories are so much -”

“Harry’s memories, you mean?”

“Huh?”

“ Harry’s ,” Cedric repeated, lifting an eyebrow. “Not yours, Haz. Yours did not change, did they?”

Harry gave him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“And you know what I mean,” Cedric challenged.

Harry sagged back, a frown etching itself into his forehead. “Why do you keep refusing this…?”

“I-” Cedric stilled at that. “There’s not much I can demand from you , Haz, that wouldn’t affect Harry, is there?” he confessed, fumbling with the owl treats. “It wouldn’t be fair to want something of his .”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t care if I’d spend some of his excess fortune on whatever it is you-”

Cedric gave him a pointed look, his grey eyes deep wells of unsaid things. “Not what I’d want,” he said simply instead of voicing any of them.

Harry took a moment to recuperate from that. “There must be something I can give you,” he insisted anyway. “ I have …” He thought about it, thought about what he really has left in his reality, in this life full of chaotic jumps and shortening moments and came up with-

“The only thing that’s truly yours is time, isn’t it?” Cedric said, before Harry could voice his thoughts.

“Time?”

“The time you have left here ,” Cedric clarified, although it wasn’t necessary at all. He nodded to himself, straightening up confidently. “I want that time. I want it all,” he said like it was a challenge.

Harry exhaled. “Fine,” he accepted. “It’s yours.” He shook his head then. “I’m guessing you don’t want to use that time to have me hunt down Voldemort, do you? Or to try and-”

“Nope.”

“So… what do you wanna do with that time, Rickie?”

“Hmm, something other than wallowing in the past or worrying about the future. Something other than fighting or solving shit,” Cedric said. “I would very much like to use the time for something fun maybe.”

“You just wanna do something fun?” Harry asked in disbelief. “Out of everything you could do with my time… you want that?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re asking me to come up with something fun to do? Me?” Harry wondered, pointing to himself incredulously. “The person who doesn’t even know what fun is anymore…?”

“I’m sure you can think of something,” Cedric said confidently. 

Harry frowned. “I know what you’re doing,” he said. “I know exactly what you’re doing.”

Cedric shrugged, waiting silently.

“But if that’s what you want…”

Cedric leaned over to catch his eyes, bracing his elbow on the perch, his cheek squished against his palm. “That’s exactly what I want,” he said, his eyes soft, his smile even softer.

And the last thought Harry had before the hook in his navel tore him away was that he would want to see that smile again. He would want to see it again and again until the end of his time.

Chapter 22

A gentle set of sparrow chirrups brought Harry back to his senses. He expected to find himself back in the White Place, back in the fucking Purgatory that claimed him for itself more and more each time around, but instead of the stark whiteness his eyes opened up into a dull dark corridor of the Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

He frowned, looking around, recognizing the door leading to the music room on the fifth floor. 

“Wha…?” he started saying, but was quickly interrupted by the silent shuffling of three pairs of feet.

He looked up just in time to see Cedric leading Mic and Cho through the dim hallway, a wand raised up to shine the way, their school robes in slight disarray as if they had put them on in a hurry, their expressions cautious.

“Oh.” Harry perked up at the sight of them. “Sneaking around after curfew, are we?”

He could have sworn Cedric looked right at him at that moment, although his eyes were just scanning the corridor to make sure it was empty. 

Harry stepped out of the way to let them walk by and then followed them to the statue of Boris the Bewildered.

“Is this it?” Mic wondered.

“Yep,” Cedric answered, shining his wand at the wall to the left of the statue. 

“Ready?” he asked, turning back to Cho and Mic.

“Oh, stop it.” Cho snickered. “No need to build up the suspense. We already know where you’re taking us, after all.”

“Yep,” Mic joined in. “Let’s get in before Filch catches us wandering around after curfew.”

“Catches you wandering around after curfew, you mean?” Cedric hummed, tapping the badge stuck to his robe. “I’m supposed to be here.”

“You’re supposed to be patrolling the dungeons, not bringing two students up to the Prefect’s bathroom at the dawn of night,” Cho noted. 

“Yeah, if we get caught, we’re gonna make sure you’re in detention with us, so quit playing with us and open up the damn door already, won’t you?”

“Wow, is this how our friendship works now?”

Mic nodded. “Yeah, that was the deal. If one of us gets in a position of power, the other two get to abuse it.”

“You two weren’t even trying to get the Prefect badges, what are you on about?”

“Because we agreed it made no sense for all of us to be in a position of power at the same time,” Cho said.

“Huh? When did we agree on that?” Cedric wondered.

Cho waved a hand between her and Mic. 

“Yeah,” Mic agreed. “We decided it’s your turn during Hogwarts cause your dad will practically force it upon you anyway. And it will be Cho’s turn after Hogwarts because her mom will force a shining Ministry career on her .”

“What about you then?” Cedric asked. “When’s it your turn?”

“Later. Much later,” Cho said. “He’s gonna be a recluse until his forties at the very least.”

“I’m gonna peak during your midlife crisis when you both realize none of what your parents forced you into brings you joy and then when you both end up quitting your fake prestigious jobs and become homeless, I will come in to save both of your stupid asses.”

“Friendships don’t last that long,” Harry noted, watching Cedric laugh. “One day, you’re just gonna drift apart and-”

“Are we still gonna be friends then?” Cedric asked as if he had actually heard him.

“Yep.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“My rats told me,” Mic said. 

“And his rats never lie,” Cho added.

“Yep, now, how about you-”

“Oh no, wait… how did you phrase the question though? Because I know you well enough by now to know that’s very important when myomancing.”

“Really?” Mic lifted his eyebrows, flapping his hands around to point at the surroundings. “You wanna dissect my myomancing procedures  now ?”

“Actually, yea,” Cedric said, leaning away from the wall. “Don’t worry, Percy is too busy chasing his brothers somewhere up at the astronomy tower to actually catch us here.”

“Can’t we do this inside?”

“Mic, just tell him what the bloody question was phrased like, so that we can go in and-”

“I am the bloody Myomancy prodigy here, me, ” Mic said, raising his voice. “I know how to ask the bloody questions so that there is no doubt-”

A noise from down the hall made him pause. They all turned their heads in the direction it was coming from. 

“It’s Norris,” Mic breathed.

“Are you su-”

“It’s fucking Norris. I have a magical third sense when it comes to her. Open the fucking-” He pushed at Cedric, urging him on.

Cedric grabbed both of them, pulling them to the wall. “Bubbles,” he whispered and walked them through.

Harry waited for a moment longer, pushing the integrity of the memory, wondering if Mrs. Norris will indeed appear behind the corner, but with Cedric no longer an active participant of it, the memory itself started to crack, light seeping in through the nooks and crannies in-between the stony walls, stark light that was familiar in its intensity, star light that was horrifying in its whiteness-

Harry walked through the door to the prefect’s bathroom before the walls could fall off completely, before it could reveal the White Place.

He stumbled to a halt at the entrance to the Prefect’s bathroom though, because Cedric was standing right there, watching Cho and Mic ogle the interior of it - the tall stained glass window with the mermaid on it, the huge tub sunken in the floor right below it, the vast assortment of bath taps lining the edge of it.

“Merlin’s balls, look at that… that’s not a bathtub, that’s a freaking pool!” Mic exclaimed, the drama with Mrs. Norris all but forgotten at the sight of it all. “Fucking Prefects. Why do they get to have all the fun?”

“Mind I remind you that it’s precisely cause I am a Prefect that you get to come here?” Cedric hummed in amusement. 

“Quidditch Captain too,” Cho added. “We are proud of you, you now.”

“I know.”

“Good job, Ced. Good fucking job,“ Mic joined in, turning around to smile at him. “I was just kidding, you know, I appreciate you.”

“I know you do.”

“I appreciate you both,” Mic said, tilting his head over to Cho to include her too. “Like… so much .”

Cho smiled at him. “How much on a scale from zero to ten rats?”

“All the rats,” Mic said. “The Myomantic ones, the magical ones, the muggle ones… all of them combined.”

Cho laughed. “Love you all the rats too, Mic.”

“All the rats,” Cedric echoed, a wide smile on his lips. 

It made Harry smile too. “Oh, stop it you three,” he said. “You’re gonna make me believe in-”

“Okay, enough about feels,” Mic interrupted him, stepping away from Cho and Cedric. He brought out his wand, transfiguring his Hufflepuff robes into a one piece, the long sleeves folding themselves into short ones, the trousers pulling up to settle above his knees, the fabric getting tighter, more dense - the perfect wizarding swimwear attire. 

“Let’s just-” He didn’t finish the sentence, running for the tub, where he jumped down to the bottom of it. He skidded into a halt in front of dozens upon dozens of bath taps. “Now a simple man would just open all of these up, but I know you’re gonna take ages transfiguring your clothes into the most fashionable pieces of wizarding swimwear to outdo each other and so I am gonna sample each and every one of these and-”

“Outdo each other?” Cho snorted, bringing out her wand. “Cedric is no competition for me in Transfiguration.”

“What about in fashion though?” Cedric grinned over at her, waving his wand in the air without actually casting any spells yet.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mic dismissed them. He opened the biggest tap of them all, letting in the clear water that would fill in the whole pool in a matter of a few minutes. “I’ll even rate you both once you’re done, you’re welcome.” And then started to check what the other taps were for. 

Cho gave Cedric a smirk, a spell at the tip of her tongue, the wave of her hand graceful as she cast - her robes swooshed up, the length of them shortening, the width of them turning into dainty frills that flew down around her hips. The skirt plastered itself to her thighs, creating tight form-fitting shorts underneath the frills. Her white shirt merged with the black robe, creating a tight shirt with tulip sleeves, the white pattern seeping out of the black material in a stitch-like movement, creating tiny white rats swimming around the fabric. The tie folded itself up, growing daintier and neater, a tiny petite bow around her neck falling down her chest.

“That’s basically cheating,” Cedric complained, tilting his head in the direction of the rats on her swimsuit.

Cho just grinned, turning over to Mic, who was watching them from the edge of the pool, five different taps creating a mix of blue bubbles, foam and sparkles on top of the pool water that complimented his hair color.

“Well?” she asked, twirling for him.

“Ten out of ten for execution,” Mic said, flicking some bubbles her way. “Ten out of ten for design.”

Cho gave Cedric a look. “You were saying…?”

“Wow,” Cedric breathed, lifting both of his hands in a placating gesture. “This is not a quidditch match. You didn’t have to-”

“I’d beat your ass at that too.”

Mic whooped, his voice echoing around the room. “And ten out of ten for the slap talk! That’s three for three… Ced, your turn.” He pulled himself up above the foam, folding his arms over the edge of the pool to watch Cedric attentively. Cho did the same, stepping away to give him more space. 

“Go for it,” she encouraged. 

Cedric lifted his hand, hesitating for a moment too long, the corners of his mouth twitching downwards in the most minuscule of microexpressions.

Mic glanced over at Cho, both of them needing just a second to have a full on conversation between each other it seemed. 

“You snooze, you lose!” Cho yelled, waving her wand at Cedric. With a swoosh of her wand, his wizarding robes transformed into a swimsuit similar in cut to the one Mic was sporting, the patterns and colors exactly the same as Cho’s - the tiny white rats swimming through the main chunk of black tight fabric, the bow at his neck bright blue.

“I was so not snoozing,” Cedric yelled at Cho who laughed maniacally and started to sprint in the direction of the pool.

“I was just collecting my thoughts!” he yelled even louder, trying to outshout the sound of a loud splash when her curled up body hit the water surface. 

Mic wheezed out a laugh, his head disappearing underneath a wave of water, covering him up with massive amounts of blue foam. His head came up for air just a moment later, looking like a giant blue cotton ball, only to be pulled back underneath as Cho jumped up at him from the water, both of them disappearing in frantic splashes of water.

“I think I’ve won either way,” Cedric whispered to himself, watching them dunk each other in the pool, the foam overflowing from around the edges, itching its way to their feet. 

Harry took a reflexive step back although it wouldn’t wet his shoes, they were kind of imaginary after all. Cedric on the other hand, stepped into the foam, walked right through, squatted down at the edge and then started to whip his hands through the foam to cover Mic and Cho with it.

They both yelped, their heads covered with a mountain of foam and then both of their arms whipped out from beneath it, grabbing at Cedric to pull him into the water.

Cedric struggled for like two seconds before he fell in with a high-pitched yell, his body creating a splash that washed the foam off Mic and Cho. They both looked at each other, a mischievous grin on their lips and then dived in after Cedric.

Harry watched them splash around the pool, a nostalgic feeling bubbling up in his chest. A feeling that forced the corners of his mouth further apart, that at the same time pushed his lower lip against the upper one, a feeling that made it slightly tremble until he bit into it. A feeling he thought he had disregarded years ago, a feeling he thought he pushed down so deep it would never be able to resurface again, a feeling-

“Alright, pause!” Cedric yelled, coughing violently. His arm came up to wipe his face clean of water, foam and bubbles. It did not manage to help with the glitter though, his face sparkling in the dim moonlight coming through the huge stained-glass window behind him. “I swallowed so much water, oh my fucking-”

“Ced using muggle swear words… you know shit just got serious,” Mic noted, shaking his head to get rid of the water in his ears. His hair fluffed up in the most random shapes on his head.

“Mhm,” Cho agreed, swiping her hand over her forehead. 

Mic leaned back in the water, his body floating up when he spread his limbs. Cho and Cedric leaned against the edge of the pool watching him drift through the foam. 

“We’re gonna be sneaking out here a lot,” he proclaimed, swatting at a particularly big mass of foam barring his view of them. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” Cho noted, wringing water from her high ponytail. 

“Huh?”

“The Black thing?”

“Eh, he’s not out to get us , is he?” Mic mused. “He's out to get Potter. Everybody is out to get Potter… each fucking year, I might add. Must be fucking exhausting.”

Harry snorted from where he was sitting at the opposite edge of the pool, the foam covering his lap not feeling wet at all. “It’s fucking exhausting alright,” he agreed. 

“Isn’t that kinda weird?” Cedric spoke up. 

Cho shrugged. “I mean… he’s the token of the resistance against the dark forces.”

“Haven't been called that before,” Harry noted.

“He’s just a kid though,” Cedric reasoned.

“A kid You-Know-Who was not able to kill,” Cho said. “My mom said they probably think killing him will bring him back.”

“Like how?”

Cho shrugged. “Dark magic?”

“Shouldn’t we like… protect him better then?” Cedric wondered. “Just in case it-”

“I don’t think dark magic like that exists anyway.”

“What if it does though?”

“It’s not up to us, Ced, come on,” Mic reasoned. “We’re just kids. Let the adults-”

“What are the adults doing to help him though? I mean… just think of his first year and that weird thing about… whatever that was.”

“You mean how they let him become the youngest Seeker in history of… forever ?” Cho wondered aloud. 

“Let the orphan have some fun, Cho,” Mic teased. “It’s not that deep.”

Cho flicked some foam directly into his eye. “Easy for you to say. You don’t care about Quidditch. Some of us had a tough time qualifying for that stuff. If me being a girl wasn’t on the list of mitigating circumstances then neither should him being an orphan. He should have qualified like everybody else once the rules allowed it. Why should anybody be above rules? What’s the point of having rules then?"

Harry snorted. “Hey, let the orphan have some fun, won’t you?” he echoed in amusement.

“To break them?” Cedric said, gesturing at their surroundings to make a point. “I think Mic is right, you know.”

“Is he though?” Cho wondered. “You think that’s what a Muggle-raised orphan that the dark forces are after each minute of the day needs? A Quidditch cup? A House cup?”

“I mean... it didn’t hurt,” Harry said. 

“Dumbledore probably just wanted to make him feel included-”

“By assigning a bunch of points to him for something that was never explained? Think that didn’t cause everybody else to hate him for that?” Cho wondered. “I mean Slytherin was never going to admit to liking him, that’s for sure, but ever since Dumbledore did that , neither did the rest of the houses.”

“It’s just points,” Cedric said.

“You’re just sore cause he beats you all the time,” Mic noted, covering his eyes so she couldn’t flick foam into them anymore.

“He didn’t beat me in his first year, he couldn’t play because of the… whatever that was.”

“Well, he’s gonna whip the floor with you this year though. Both of you,” Mic said. “I don’t know much about brooms, but that new broom of his-”

“And again, let me ask you, how is it fair that he gets to fly the quickest broom in history while I need to do my best on a bloody Comet 260? It’s already hard enough to keep up with him on the newest Nimbus and now he’s allowed to bring in a Firebolt? There is a reason these things are regulated during official matches.”

Harry made a face. “I mean… didn’t Malfoy do the same though?” They didn’t hear him. Of course they didn’t.

“And then Oliver Wood dares to fucking laugh at me? Say that my broom will look like a joke next to the Firebo-”

“Wait, what?” Cedric turned to her.

Mic looked up at that. “When did that happen?” 

“Not important,” she said, shaking her head. “My point is-”

“No, wait, it’s very important,” Cedric interrupted. “He said you will look like a joke on the field?”

“He just said my broom -”

“That’s the same fucking thing!”

“Nah, you know how he gets when it comes to Quidditch,” she muttered, trying to diffuse the situation. “The point is-”

“When was this again?” Mic insisted on knowing.

“We were just leaving the field after last practi-”

“Wait, what did your teammates-?”

“Nothing. I didn’t expect them to do anything. I am already in a bad position as is, being the only girl allowed on the team, one wrong move and they will exchange me for Herb and I can’t have that, so I just smiled and walked on, but-”

“That fucker! I'm gonna hex his hair off next time I see him!” Mic exclaimed. “I'm gonna feed him slugs-”

“I'm gonna take so many points off him, they won’t ever be able to dream of winning the House cup,” Cedric proclaimed somberly. “I will think of the worst possible detention-”

“Stop it you two,” Cho said. “Look, that’s not the point. All-”

“Slugs!” Mic yelled.

“Detention!” Cedric joined in.

Cho sighed. “You’re both very sweet. Marietta has already hexed him though and Pen has ducked as many points off him as she reasonably could so you don’t have to do any of the sorts, but-”

“Ced, we’re stealing his bloody broom. You in?”

“Oh, I'm in!”

Harry snickered. 

They started to weed their way out of the pool, waving away heaps of foam stuck to the surface of the water. 

“You're gonna be sneaking into the Gryffindor tower at this hour?” Cho shouted after them. “He probably sleeps with that thing after all.”

Cedric paused in front of Harry, turning over to Mic. “Do you know the current password to the Gryffindor tower?”

“Nope,” Mic answered, stalling in his movements as well. “Might be bravery or something equally cringe though . ”

“I don’t think there was ever anything cringe like that,” Harry mused. “There were a lot of weird latin phrases though for some reason?”

“Not sure if that’s worth the shot.”

“Not with Black around it isn’t.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” Mic echoed, both of them leaning back against the side of the pool. Cedric’s back ended up propped up against Harry’s legs, the press of it unexisting.

“He shouldn’t have said that though, that was very unsportsmanship-y of him,” he said directed at Cho. 

“Got that right,” Mic agreed. 

“But then again, they lost to us because of Dementors invading the field, that was kinda unfair too,” Cedric reasoned.

“Stop feeling bad about that,” Mic said.

Cedric just shrugged, his shoulders droopy. 

“Stop feeling bad about that,” Harry echoed, reaching over to run his fingers over his shoulder. His hand slipped through it as if he was just a ghost. He was just a memory after all.

“Malfoy getting a Nimbus 2001 for every player on his team wasn’t exactly fair either,” Cho allowed.

“Yeah…”

“And well, I am not above admitting that yes, I am a bit jealous of him having a Firebolt, so what? It’s a bloody nice broom!”

“Yea, it is,” Cedric agreed.

“I will get you all Thunderbolts in the future, you just wait,” Harry promised. “You too, Mic.”

“Keep your broom kinks away from me,” Mic drawled. 

All three of them snorted at that.

“Keep all of your bloody kinks away from me for that matter, thank you. I don’t care about any of that shit.”

“We know,” Cedric and Cho echoed.

Harry turned his head to look at Mic, a glint of light stabbing him in the corner of his eye, a stray ray of sunlight coming from a barely opened door in the corner, a door leading to the shower stalls. The light coming from it didn't match the night atmosphere inside the Prefect’s bathroom at all, too natural, too warm.

Harry got up, walking over to it.

“Honestly though, once Cedric starts bringing in visits to the dorms our friendship is over, silencing charm or not,” Mic kept on talking.

“I wouldn’t.”

“You keep telling yourself that, I know how you normies think. A flash of a naked ankle is all it takes.”

“Not an ankle.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“A well defined thigh tho.”

“A well defined biceps for that matter.”

“I mean… yea, sure, I can appreciate those too.”

“See?”

“See!”

“Visually tho! From afar!”

Harry stepped in through the door right into the kitchens of the Diggory ancestral home, the warmest of sunshines caressing the wooden cladding, the branches spanning up above the ceilings, the honey-colored cupboards and the glistening marble surfaces. There were three tiny house elves sitting on a small bench near where Harry appeared, their heads and feet moving in time with the gentle song they hummed to themselves as they soaked in the warmth of the sunshine streaming through the window above the sink, as they soaked up the strong ancestral magic all around them.

And there, right in the middle of the kitchen, sat Cedric’s grandma. She was leaning over a wooden vat filled up with water and foam, bubbles rising up from it all around her face, painting her skin in iridescent colors. Her fingers were caressing the tiny mop of sandy-brown hair hiding within the foam, massaging the scalp, creating even more bubbles-

“Hush now, Rickie,” she whispered gently, her hands sliding down Cedric’s hair to press up against his chubby red cheeks. “Hush now, will you? It’s all alright now.”

“Nannie,” Cedric sobbed, leaning into her touch. “Daddy is mad at me.”

“He’s not mad at you, my sweet darling.” She squished his cheeks gently. “Nobody can be mad at you, Rickie.”

“Nannie,” Cedric continued on, sobs wrecking his tiny body, making the water splash around, the foam bubble up over the edges of the wooden vat. “He is mad because he yelled and he-”

“He is just unhappy, but not unhappy with you, unhappy with himself maybe, with Nannie even, but not with you.”

“With you? Is he mad at you too?” Cedric asked, reaching up to clench her hands in his in a sweet display of comfort. “Why? Is he gonna hurt you too, Nannie?”

“Nobody’s gonna hurt Nannie,” she said sternly. “And nobody’s gonna hurt you Rickie either. Next time your daddy brings out a belt, you come running straight to me, you hear me? I will not let him do that anymore, alright?”

Cedric hiccupped, sniffling into the foam.

“Alright?” she insisted, poking his cheek. “You come running to Nannie. You come hide behind her skirts. I have belts galore and I am not afraid to use them.” Her lips pulled into a big grin. “And my belts turn into hissing snakes with sharp fangs when angry.“

“Hissy hissy,” Cedric recited automatically, pressing his fingers against his mouth to mimic fangs. He did so with his head still hung down, the pretend fangs sad barely moving things. 

“Bite, bite,” his grandma sang, pinching his cheeks. 

Cedric giggled at that, throwing himself back, the water inside the vat sloshing around, spilling out into the wooden floors. One of the house elves snapped its tiny fingers and the water disappeared with a rush of magic.

“Snakes galore, huh?” Harry echoed, staring at Cedric’s watery smile. “I could provide heaps of those, should you want them, Rickie.”

His grandma leaned in then and pressed a kiss against his foamy head. When she pulled back, the foam stuck to her upper lip like a caricature of a mustache.

Cedric giggled again, but his smile disappeared way too quickly. “I don’t want daddy mad at Nannie too,” he said, reaching over to help his grandma wash off the foam off her face, his wet small hand pruny from soaking in the warm water. 

“If he wants to be mad, he should be mad at me, my sweet boy.”

Cedric’s eyes were big. “Why?”

“Because your daddy wanted to be the Minister of Magic and Nannie did not help him.”

“Why did you not help him, Nannie?”

“Because I thought it was stupid,” his grandma said. “Don’t you think it’s stupid?”

Cedric just shrugged.

“Do you know what a Minister of Magic does?”

“He talks,” he answered promptly. 

“Correct!” she praised. “He talks to people that need help and then helps them. But your daddy did not want to become a minister to help people.”

“He did not?”

“No, my dear boy.”

“Why then?”

She grabbed some of the foam from around Cedric, using a smidgen of magic to style it into a crown that she placed on her head. She then straightened up, puffing up her chest. “Because he wanted to walk around all proud, huffing and puffing.”

Cedric giggled. “Huffing and puffing,” he echoed, mimicking her.

“And that’s not right.” She shook her head. The crown on her head dissolved into a flock of bubbles, floating up into the branches above. Each one of them erupting into a colorful burst as it popped upon contact.

“That’s not right,” Cedric echoed. 

“You only become a Minister of Magic if you want to help people,” his grandma said, tapping the tip of his nose. “You understand?”

“But daddy wants me to become Minister of Magic.”

“But do you want to be a Minister of Magic?”

Cedric thought about it. “I can help. I helped Mic when he couldn’t find Boop. And I helped Cho put her toys away.”

“And that was very sweet of you.”

“But daddy says only goodest become Ministers of Magic and being goodest is hard.” 

His grandma hummed in thought. “Do you want to be the Minister of Magic, Rickie? Would you like your Nannie to help with that?”

“I want daddy not to be mad.”

His grandma leaned over, pressing her hands against his cheeks again. “You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be.”

“But daddy-”

“If daddy wants to become someone he can do it himself, you can- what do you want to be?”

“I want to be a pegasus!” Cedric exclaimed, his face suddenly brighter than the sun streaming in through the window. He raised his hands up to the sides, flapping them, the motion spilling water outside of the vat again, water that was very quickly cleaned off by one of the house elves.

“Thank you,” his grandma said, giving the house elf a nod. Only then did she turn back to Cedric. “A pegasus is a perfectly lovely choice,” she told him.

“And Mic will be a kelpie and Cho will be a unicorn and together we- can I be a pegasus then?” he asked. “Can you help me to be a pegasus?”

“Yes, I absolutely can.”

 

_

 

Waking up felt like none other this time around, the rush of his magic alerting him to the fact that his underage lock has finally dissolved, the healthy dose of phoenix tears making his body feel alive like never before.

He woke up alert, ready for anything.

Ready for-

The unfamiliar hospital room made him pause in his thoughts though, his eyes getting stuck on the decorative mint colored cladding up above, his fingers grazing the starchy bed sheets wrapped around his body, his senses extending over to the second person in the room.

“Healer Strout,” Harry greeted, pushing himself up from the hospital bed. “What…?”

“A pleasure to meet you again Mr. Potter,” she said, banishing the diagnostic charms around her with a swift resolute wave of her wand.

“I didn’t give permission to-”

She stared at him.

“Ah, but Harry did,” he remembered, reaching up to press his fingers against his forehead. It was all there now, all the memories, updated to the present time. A jumbled mess of it, but as clear as a day. 

“Precisely. That being said, I will not conduct any tests while you’re present unless I get permission from you too.”

“Well, I don’t permit any tests when I am not in the body either,” Harry said sternly.

“I’m afraid that’s not up to you to decide, Mr. Potter,” she chastised. “As you have said previously, this is not your body, you can’t claim ownership over it and so Harry’s permission overrules yours. Isn't that what you said to me last time?”

“I mean, yes, but-”

“But of course I do have a certain line I am unwilling to cross and so-” She put her wand away. “I respect your decision and won’t continue until you are gone.”

“That’s bullshit,” Harry argued. “He’s a child. How can a child give you permission to do anything?”

“He is a wizard of legal age, as I am sure you are aware of, since you-” She glanced down into her notes. “-finished up his Transfiguration exam for him?”

Harry pursed his lips. 

“He is indeed just 17 of age though and so I required permission from his guardians as well.”

“I knew that,” Harry admitted reluctantly. “Fucking hell, I-”

She leaned in closer at that. “So you know of things that happen when you are not in the body?” she noted rather aptly. “Judging by your reaction…”

“Yes? I get updated on- “ he paused then, lowering his hand down to his lap, an unwelcome feeling creeping up his spine. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Healer Strout just smiled. “I find it very curious that you get updated on everything once you appear back in the body, but Harry himself remains oblivious of anything that happens while you’re the one occupying it, is all.”

“Why? This brain already holds the memories as I appear back in the body, and so of course once my mind syncs with the brain-”

“And it holds them just as well once Harry comes back in and yet, he is not privy to your memories. You are to his, though.”

Harry opened his mouth.

“Yes?”

“That’s just because…” he faltered.

“Because ultimately you are Harry?” she said, leaning back in the chair, crossing her legs.

“I am not, though,” Harry argued, frowning. “I’m… an echo from a timeline that no longer exists and when the last traces of it disappear from existence, so shall I.”

Healer Strout watched him for a moment and then asked. “What makes you think so?”

“Because Harry wouldn’t be here if that weren’t true. If I were truly Harry, then I would be the sole occupant of this body. I’m not though, I just borrow it every few months for what feels like moments, until I am whisked away again.”

“Couldn’t it be just the body trying to deal with time travel in a very unprecedented and yet genius way? Unable to merge you two without disastrous consequences it keeps you split apart until time catches up to you?”

“If it were as you say, wouldn't I be synching with the body more and more as the time moves forward?” Harry wondered. “Why is it the exact opposite then? Why is my time in the body shorter and shorter each time, why is stabilizing in the body harder and harder each time? Why is the White Place keeping me for longer and longer each time-”

“The White Place?”

Harry’s mouth fell shut.

Healer Strout looked down into her notes, ruffling back through a couple of pages. “I remember Harry mentioning a White Place before. He said it was part of the memories you gave him? It’s something you’ve experienced before, isn’t it? When-”

“We’re not talking about the White Place,” Harry interrupted. “He had no right telling you about it.”

“So, when you leave this body, time doesn't just stop for you, you live it out independently in this White Place, as you call it?” Healer Strout forged on. “And on the other hand Harry just blacks out and comes back once you are gone.”

“So? What’s that supposed to prove?” Harry wondered. “I blacked out at the start of it all too. The White Place wasn’t there from the start as a sign of me being huddled away somewhere for months. It came to me eventually, it came as a signal it was time to let go.”

“What was it like in the beginning then?”

“I just… jumped from one time to another. It felt like mere seconds away but was months, months in-between.” He shook his head. “So you see, it’s the same for me as it is for Harry. Except he'll get his own body back eventually and I will lose all connection to it.”

“So the White Place symbolizes death for you essentially?” Healer Strout asked. “Is that it?”

“Of course,” Harry said, waving over to her notes. “Isn't that what Harry told you? Didn’t he describe to you in excruciating detail what he saw in that memory I sent him? He did, don’t play coy with me, I remember he did . He told you everything - how I was hit by the Killing curse, how I landed in that fucking Purgatory of mine-”

“Limbo,” healer Strout corrected him. “You landed in what you presumed was Limbo, a state between life and death and you were given the choice to move on or go back.” She lifted her eyebrows reading the notes. “And you decided to just keep on living, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

Healer Strout hummed at that, writing something down. “And you didn’t get the same choice this time around?”

“I’m not privy to a choice. This isn’t my timeline anymore,” Harry said. “Even if it was-”

“So you presume that when you went back in time and changed your past, you created a secondary timeline that belongs to Harry?”

“Yes.”

“So what happened to your own timeline?”

“My timeline?”

“Yes, if you are so set on not occupying this timeline, why not just return to your original timeline and live out the rest of your time there? You would, according to the magical theory that I am not an expert in, probably lose ten years of your time, but you are still young, you would still be able to have enough time left to live, so why not just return there instead of accepting death?”

“I’m not done here,” Harry said. “Voldemort is still alive.”

“Right.” She nodded again. “And were he dead, would you simply return to your own timeline?”

Harry stared, confused. “I can’t return.”

“And why not?”

“Because there is nothing for me to return to there.”

“If you are not privy to a choice, as you say, then you having nothing to return to is irrelevant, wouldn’t the magic just return you there automatically? You wanting it or not-”

“No, because I think… I think my original timeline is dissipating.” Harry said. “And so am I.”

“Instead of erasing you, it keeps throwing you into the White Place though,” healer Stout noted. “Have you had any indicators at all that this original timeline of yours even exists? Any at all? Could it be that this is the only timeline you have been experiencing all along?”

“I-” Harry frowned. “I remember it, isn’t that an indicator enough?”

“Or perhaps you just remember this one timeline before it changed?” healer Strout wondered. “Perhaps this is the only timeline there is, it just keeps changing around you. And perhaps, you and Harry are one and the same as well, just struggling to keep up with the changes made.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am merely theorizing, mr. Potter,” she said, tapping her fingers against her notepad. “If this indeed isn’t your body, there should be some subconscious connection to your actual body in your original timeline then, shouldn’t there be? Flashes of it existing? Your mind trying to find purchase in it? Anything? While it still exists at least, you are of the opinion that it’s slowly being erased together with you after all, which is again something you have no exact proof of though, do you?”

“I’m probably not aware of it because it is being erased?”

“Why? Is the whole timeline dependent on your existence within it? Wouldn’t it just keep existing without you? If it’s truly a separate timeline from ours, wouldn’t that be the case? There must surely be timelines where you died as a baby or were never born. Surely they exist on without your presence in them.”

“What are you saying?”

“I am saying you keep clinging to this concept of an original timeline you came from that is being erased from existence as we talk, but all there is to show for it is the White Place, isn’t there? Is the White Place a part of your original timeline? I doubt that.”

“It might be…?”

“Well if it is, then you should be able to just leave and resume living in your original timeline same as you did before, shouldn’t you? There is no Harry to steal life from in your timeline. There is no reason for you to remain in the White Place if it indeed is your original timeline, isn’t there?”

“Stop it.”

“Why don’t you just try it next time?”

“I tried it, but it didn't listen to me.”

“I see.” She flipped a page in her notepad. “Do you get any stimuli from the real world when you are there? In the White Place? Any at all?”

“Stop it, I said.” Harry shook his head. “We’re not doing this, no, thank you, you can’t make me-”

Healer Strout lifted her hands in surrender. “I wasn't going to make you do anything you didn’t permit, Mr. Potter. You are not held hostage here. Nor are you obligated to talk to me at all. You are welcome to leave at any time.”

“Lovely.”

“I do recommend you give it a thought though,” she advised. “After all it was you yourself that said that the White place is just a place inside your own head. Maybe you’ve been stuck in Harry’s head, in your own, waiting for the time to catch up to you this whole time-”

“No.”

“Maybe, just maybe, it is all indeed just in your head, how else would you be able to view Mr. Diggory’s memories as readily as you can without-”

“Yea no, fuck that.”

He yanked the bed sheets off, happy to find out he was wearing his everyday clothing, stuck his socked feet in the shoes near the bed and then ran out of the room.

And almost immediately came face to face with Sirius and Remus sitting on a bench outside - Remus fiddling with an empty vial of phoenix tears, Sirius taking it from him to stare down at it. Their shoulders pressed together.

“He’s gonna be fi-”

Sirius straightened up when he noticed him. “Which one are you then? Our Harry or the other one?”

Harry laughed.

“That’s not what he meant,” Remus jumped in, pressing a hand against Sirius’ thigh.

“Well, sue me. I’m still sore about the whole-”

“We talked about this.”

“ We did. But he never even-”

“And I’m not gonna. Can we concentrate on the important shit, please?” Harry interrupted. “Why the hell would you let him do this?”

“Wasn’t my idea,” Sirius grumbled.

“Sirius, love , please-” Remus shook his head, getting off the bench. “Harry, listen…”

“Yes, thank you,” Harry interrupted again. “More of that ,” he said, gesturing at Sirius squinting over at him from the bench. “Less of whatever this is,” he added quickly as he glared at Remus standing between them, his hands raised up placatingly.

“You can’t just let him do this,” Harry continued. “Do you want to lose him? Do you seriously want me to take his place?”

“No, we don’t,” Sirius noted.

“You’re not helping,” Remus scolded, pressing his hand against his face. Sirius grunted, leaning back against the wall to pout in silence.

“It’s not about which of you we want to stay or not,” Remus reasoned. “Because you are both the same person.”

“Fucking hell, did she get into your heads too? With this misplaced theory of hers that I’m Harry just as much as the actual Harry is?” He huffed out a laugh, waving his hand in the direction of the hospital room where healer Strout conveniently stood in the doorway watching it all unfold with her fucking notebook in her hands and a pen pressed against the fucking pages, scribbling down as she watched him, as she studied him, as she dissected him .

“Because I’m not. I’m not him.” Harry insisted. “The Harry you know, that’s not me, alright? The Harry you take out to ride your motorcycle, the Harry you race on brooms with, the Harry that walks through London with you, that you gift a fucking bedroom to, that you give everything he could have ever wished for, everything he longed for the longest of times… the Harry you… you shared the memories of the Marauders with, of the Potters, of the- of- of mom, fuck!” He took a step back, raising his shaking hand to press against his forehead, overcome by all the memories screaming at him inside his mind. “I’ve never even heard most of those, not ever.”

“If you remember us doing all of those together, doesn’t that mean…?” Remus tried, reaching out for him.

Harry slapped his hand off. “Yea, no, fuck that!” He shook his head, his lower lip distorting the smile he plastered on his face. “…that’s not me. I’m the one who let you both die. I’m the one that reunited you only to tear Sirius away from you, the one that made you and your wife die. I’m the one the became the Godfather to your son, who didn’t even visit him once, who didn’t even muster enough energy to go and talk to that poor fucking orphan. The one who burned half the cottage down one crazy night. The one that is meant to die for a bigger cause. The one… ”

There was a stricken look on Sirius’ face that Harry refused to acknowledge.

“I have no right to any of this,” he continued mercilessly. “Fuck you for thinking I would take this from him, actually. Fuck you for thinking I would want this, because I- even if I did, I can’t… I can’t want it. I don’t want it!”

He walked out on them without a second glance, hoping against all odds that he had enough time left to-

 “Haz!” Cedric called out to him from the end of the hallway.

Harry stopped in his tracks at the sight of him, the face he had seen in the younger variants older now, more haggard, but his cheeks still as red as when he was a child, the smile still as easy when he was a teen, his eyes still as kind as the last time Harry had seen him.

“Rickie…” he greeted, the anger in him receding at the sight of him.

“Just to clarify,” Cedric said breathlessly. “I didn’t-”

“Well, you didn’t argue with any of them about it either, did you?” Harry couldn’t help but point out. 

“No, I didn’t.”

“Rickie…”

“Haz…”

“Stop.” Harry pushed at him. “I can't do this right now. Can we just… go? We don’t have much time left and I would rather fulfill the promise I gave you than argue about any of this.”

Cedric mimicked a zipper closing over his mouth. “Right, so where to?

Harry took a moment to think about it. “You know what?” He nodded to himself, the decision made. “How would you feel about side-alonging across the ocean with me?”

“What are you…?”

“To mainland Europe, not to America,” he clarified quickly. “I mean I very obviously did get the lock off, finally, so I would have enough spare energy for America as well, but I’d be too tired to do anything and also getting a portkey from Amerika after apparating in like that is a whole lot of work and I wouldn’t do that to you, nor would I do that to Harry, but I promised you a fun date, so… mainland Europe?”

“Mainland… you won’t lose me along the way, will you?” Cedric teased. 

“You will have to hold on real tight,” Harry admitted, giving Cedric a look. “Is that okay?”

“Is it?”

Harry shrugged. “It’s okay with me.”

“Then it’s okay with me too.” Cedric nodded, turning around. “Let’s go then. Which apparition point?”

“Whichever.”

“The nearest one would be the one around the corner. It’s what I used to get here,” Cedric said, gesturing which way to go.

“That works.”

Cedric led the way down the long hallway, a healthy stream of people trudging to and fro all around them - nurses guiding cursed patients to the respective recovery rooms, harried doctor’s with billowing coats walking at maximum speed, house elves popping in and out of existence to help or assist anybody and everybody. 

“Where are we going anyway?” Cedric asked.

“It’s a surprise.”

“Hmm… can I try guessing?”

Harry shrugged. “Sure, go for it.”

“Right so…what memories did you see this time around?”

Harry laughed. “You think it’s gonna be connected to that?”

“Yea. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” Harry admitted, smiling. 

“So which was it?”

“Prefect’s bathroom.”

“Ohh, that’s a fun one.”

“Yeah, it’s fun,” Harry hummed. “I never realized Cho was so fun.”

“Huh?” Cedric snorted. “Didn’t you have a crush on her?”

“I kinda did, yea.”

“Why did you have a crush on her then?”

Harry shrugged. “Pretty face?”

They’ve reached the apparition point, a house elf clad in a mint uniform with the Mungo’s crest on his back gesturing for them to take their place at the end of the line waiting in front of the designated platform.

Cedric leaned in to whisper. “Ah, is that what the famous Harry Potter cares about the most? A pretty face?”

“It’s a contributing factor, yes.”

“Well,” Cedric pulled back, a smile on his lips. “Can’t argue with that.”

Harry watched him, watched the lovely smile of his, a smile crooked no more, but still sorta- “Also, she was a quidditch player. It’s nice to have things in common.”

“Can’t argue with that either,” Cedric agreed. “What else?”

“Very pretty and a good seeker,” Harry summarized. “I fear that was about it.”

Cedric squinted over at him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, she is amazing in so many things and those are definitely on the list, but like…”

“Surface level shit, isn’t it?”

“A bit, yeah,” Cedric admitted. “I expected something more. At least praise her kissing abilities or something?”

Harry grimaced.

“Oh, come on, she’s a great kisser!”

“It was all very wet.”

“What the… wet ? It’s kinda supposed to be wet if-”

“Not like that. She was crying over you when we kissed. I thought that was the main issue, but obviously it was her being a girl and all of that, but I didn’t know that at that point, so…”

“You can still appreciate a good kiss even if you don’t swing that way, you know.”

“I sup- wait, how do you know she’s a good kisser?”

Cedric shrugged. “We kissed.”

“You did? I thought you-”

“Platonically.”

“Is that a thing?”

“Is that not a thing?” Cedric guffawed. “You’ve never kissed Hermione? Or Ron?”

“No?”

“Why not?”

“Why would I?”

“Cause it’s safe? It’s comfy? It’s-”

“Did you kiss Mic as well?”

“Yes?”

“Oh… I thought he’s- I mean I might have misunderstood, but he did say he was a-”

“Some ace people like to kiss.”

“Oh, okay.”

The house elf clad in St. Mungo’s uniform gestured to them to approach the platform. 

“Mic seems really fun too by the way,” Harry felt the need to mention.

“He is.”

“You guys still friends?” he wondered, walking up the two steps dividing the dark green tiles from the wooden platform. The dark polished surface of it was scraped up by shoes, luggage wheels and broom bristles. 

“Yea, we’re still friends,” Cedric confirmed from behind him. “Why?”

“Just wondering.”

“Just wondering how long it will last?” Cedric laughed. “You did say people tend to exchange friend circles after each five-odd years, didn’t you? Think it’s time for me to change my friend group?”

“Nah, keep your friends close,” Harry said. He stepped over to the middle of the platform and then pivoted around to face Cedric, his arms beckoning him in. 

“This a keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer sort of thing then?” Cedric said, stepping up to join him on the platform. 

Harry shrugged. 

“What about lovers then?” Cedric wound his arms around his waist, pulling him in close. “How close do they get to be?” he wondered.

“Closer than this.”

Cedric laughed, the sweet sound of it ringing in Harry’s ears, running deep within his bones, echoing at the back of his own throat.

“Closer than this” Harry repeated, putting his arms around Cedric, their foreheads almost touching now that he was pressing his hand against his back, pulling him in closer. 

“Closer than this,” he said again, looking over at him. 

Cedric stared back at him, the bright grey of his eyes almost minty with all the greens around them reflecting on the surface of them, almost dark with the shadow created by the proximity of their bodies.

“Ready?”

“Don’t drop me into the ocean,” Cedric whispered, the hold he had on Harry tightening.

“I won’t.”

Cedric nodded. “Ready then.”

Harry took a tiny step back to gain enough momentum, revving up his magic as if it was the engine on Sirius’ old bike ready to fly off into the sky. Only once he was sure he had enough control over the magic, only once he was sure his magic was ahead far enough, dipping down at their destination over the ocean, only then did he follow its path. He twisted them around, squeezing in-between the layers upon layers of space, the sounds of it hollow and dull, the feel of it compressing. 

He pushed through the last few layers of space, having to twist them a bit further, having to accommodate for the shift of their combined centers, their bodies dipping forward. Cedric clung to him tighter as he felt the gravity pulling him down, Harry made sure he held onto him as they appeared at their destination, perfectly balanced, perfectly-

Cedric exhaled a rush breath then, looking up at him. 

“Ah… hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” Harry whispered back.

There was a moment of silence, a silence with just their eyes connected, but then the cacophony of the busy apparition post caught up with their ears - the screaming of children, the murmur of adults talking, of old people shuffling - all of it rushing into their ear canals like a broken dam.

Cedric made a face. “Um,” was all he said, before he pushed at Harry, his hand pressing against his mouth.

Harry straightened him up immediately, his hold on him easing up to guide him from the platform to a more peaceful corner near a wall. Cedric leaned against it, his face whiter than the wall itself, his eyes unfocused, his mouth curled down. 

“You good?” Harry wondered, rubbing his back.

“Yea, just need a… moment,” Cedric muttered through his fingers.

Summoning a glass of water, Harry offered it to him. “Hmm?”

“No, I’ll barf if I drink anything now.”

“Fair,” Harry said, drinking the whole content of it before banishing the empty glass. He turned a bit then, his hand still on Cedric’s back, keeping the movement of it gentle, comforting; and gestured to a nearby clerk.

“Could you please arrange a portkey back to St. Mungo’s London in about… four hours?”

“Yes, sir.” The clerk snapped his fingers and a bracelet appeared in his hand. “Anything else I can assist with, sir?”

“No, that will be all,” Harry said. He took the bracelet off him and slid it around Cedric’s right wrist. “Just show them this on the way back? They will give you a portkey back. And tell Harry to pay.”

Cedric's hands snapped over to his sleeve. “Don’t go yet,” he mumbled. “You’ve only just arrived. We've only just arrived to-” He paused, raising his eyes to survey their surroundings. “To- huh?”

It was as if he only now noticed the big entrance hall they were standing in - a dozen or so apparition points lined up neatly at their side, the space extending up behind them into a wide station for brooms to land on, a bunch of roaring fireplaces lining the wall at the opposite side and lower below, a floor that wasn’t visible to any of them, were the garages for other magical means of transportation, the faint neighing of horses and snoring of wyverns the only indication the floor existed at all at all.

Cedric wasn’t paying attention to anything behind them, he was scanning the giant colosseum of a hall in front of them, a space full of wizards and witches of all ages either floating from one opening along the colosseum via huge iridescent bubbles or leisurely walking through the wall itself or swimming through small streams of water circling the whole space. 

“What-”

“It's the biggest magical waterpark in Europe!” Harry exclaimed, his words accompanied with a gesture that couldn’t exactly be described as an excited “ta-dah.” but it was close enough.

“Oh.” Cedric straightened up at that, his eyes huge, his face filling up with color at the sight of it all. “So it was connected to the memory you saw after all.”

“That a bad thing?” Harry wondered. “Would you have preferred something else? Is this… not fun? I thought it would be.”

“No, it’s fun alright. I’m just surprised.” Cedric smiled, his wide eyes actually full of wonder and excitement. “I thought you said you don’t know what fun is anymore and then you apparate us here…  I’ve never seen anything more fun in my life. I can’t wait to-”

“Oh, come on, it’s just a-”

“A magical waterpark,” Cedric said. “How did you even know about this? I thought you didn’t do fun stuff anymore?”

“Oh, Luna had her wedding here.”

“Luna Lovegood?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Cedric pushed himself off the wall and started to walk in the direction of the colosseum hall together with a couple of families that just arrived via the Floo network. They could hear all kinds of languages spoken between the children and parents alike - rapid rounds of French mixed with Dutch and German, even a couple more Slavic-sounding ones that they wouldn’t be able to recognise. 

“She had this lovely dress decorated with like… rainbows and spangles,” Harry continued. “I’ve never seen anything so delicate and colorful before.”

“Aww, that sounds like her. She always wears these lovely- remember that lion head? That was so impressive. It fucking roared during the match.”

“I mean Skeeter called it the most hideous dress ever, but everybody knows she’s full of bullshit.”

Cedric nodded in agreement. 

“If Pansy Parkinson herself paid a hefty amount of money to come have a look at it after the wedding to duplicate some of the charms for her new fashion collection, it obviously wasn’t.”

The families in front of them stilled a bit, the parents taking out their wands to shrink their luggages and offer them to the nearest clerk waiting. Then they proceeded to transform all of their clothes into swimwear. A lot of them opted for very muggle-like choices too - just simple swim trunks or two-pieces. There was still quite an amount of them that decided for the more coverage options of the traditional wizarding designs, but also a whole group of young adults at the back who went for proper wetsuits, the surfboards in their arms an indication enough to explain their choice. 

“Oh, Luna invited Slytherins to the wedding?” Cedric asked. “How long ago was that-”

“It was like a year or so after the end of the war. She printed out an open invitation in Quibbler, anybody could show up and so many people did. It somehow escalated into this whole thing.” Harry smiled. “I think it was the most brilliant thing anybody could have done to build the magical community back up again. People generally tend to not fight when they’re in their swimsuits and-”

“No, I suppose they don’t,” Cedric allowed. He giggled suddenly. “We should just invite Riddle over. Would be an easy win.”

“I didn’t need that visual in my brain, shame on you.”

Cedric just laughed louder.

“Hey, if you imagined him wearing-”

“Right,” Harry interrupted. “Let’s-”

“Wait, are we gonna-” Cedric paused, eying some of the more daring fashion designs of the young couple not too far away.

“Why don’t we just do the ones from the memory?” Harry proposed. “See who can manage more intricate rats on the fabric.”

Before Cedric could confirm his decision, Harry called up his magic, the rush of it almost deafening. His clothes flared up all around him, the emerald t-shirt with an embroidered broom flying lazily around his collar constricting, the fabric growing more flexible, more taunt. The broom rammed into the edge of the collar, exploding into a shower of bristles, the bristles rolling in on themselves at slumping back into the fabric as tiny fluffy balls of golden rats sleeping over a dark green grassy field. His black jeans shrunk up, the fabric growing airier, sticking to his thighs, the black color of it stretching up to his navel, up over his sides, turning his short sleeves black too, only leaving his chest emerald green.

“You and Cho are way too good at this,” Cedric complained.

Harry just grinned, adding a golden trim to his swimsuit to match the tiny ratties. 

Cedric sighed. “Let’s see if I can come up with something equally as-”

He called up his magic similarly to what Harry did just a few seconds ago, his own less of a rush and more of a gentle overflow of sweltering magma, coating up his skin. 

The light grey wizarding robes hanging loose around his body floated up as the shrug, the shimmering inside of them turning the other way around to show on the surface of the loose sleeves that fell over Cedric’s defined shoulders, the grey pulling through the whole body of the swimwear, down his chest and over his thighs, a gentle shimmer of it enhancing the shapes of his body, the faint taint of blue reminding Harry of the colors of the Beauxbatons house, of the glittering and elegant swimsuit Fleur chose for the second task. 

“You forgot the rats,” Harry pointed, looking him over. “Mic would be so disappointed. He’d deduct points, I’m sure.”

“Maybe you need better glasses then, Haz.” Because there, right within the blue-grey fabric, right in the glistening water of the vast ocean they were - tiny and intricate, embroidered with silver thread, ratties floating on their backs like otters, their tail wagging to and fro as they moved, their tiny front paws folded over their fluffy chests, their hind legs stretched out comfortably.

“Well, fuck, you win,” Harry breathed.

Cedric smiled. “I would get points deducted for sure. Rats don’t swim like that. They preferably don’t swim at all. You got them sleeping in a circle up in the grass. That’s more of an actual setting.”

“Well, guess we’ll never know.”

“I’ll show the memory to Mic, if you want?” Cedric proposed. “Will let you know what he thought next time you’re around?”

“He’ll just let you win.”

“Nah, he won’t.”

A moment of silence, before Cedric picked up their conversation again: “Isn’t this gonna be weird when Harry comes back?” he wondered. 

“Nah.”

“You sure?”

“Just make sure he has some fun too. Say it’s my treat.”

“I will,” Cedric promised, almost too serious for once. “After all you’re gonna get his memories when you’re back. I will make sure he has the most fucking fun ever. I promise.”

Harry shook his head in exasperation. “Right, so… choose one?”

Cedric looked around, squinting over the ostentatious lettering above each and every archer doorway along the colosseum, the three rows options stacked on each other. “Is there one that leads to water slides?”

“That one.” Harry pointed to the far right, leading the way through the arch into a huge hall beyond, a hall that looked like a nest of basilisks, the huge chutes in different colors intertwining, the yells of people sliding through them ringing all around, the echoes of them exuberant, shrill.

“See any you like?”

“How much more time do you think you’ll have?” Cedric wondered, his eyes inspecting the different water slides.

“I hope enough to go down at least one of them,” Harry said.

“Choose one then,” Cedric offered.

“Nah, this is your-”

“Choose one, Haz.”

“Help me narrow it down, will you? There’s like fifty options in this section at the very least.”

“Umm… one we can go on together…? If that’s a thing?”

“Oh, yeah, there’s slides like that. Let me… think.” Harry tapped his lower lip, trying to remember the different slides he went on after the wedding ceremony.

“I know, this way-” He paused in his tracks before he could even set foot on the path leading beneath the giant chutes, to the entrances to the various water slides. There was a school of kids that rushed in through the arched entrance, the kids paying the two adults no heed as they ran all around them.

Harry turned, grabbing Cedric’s hand lest he be swept away. “Follow me,” he said, leading the way through the crowd of yelling children over to the-

One of the kids slipped on the stony floor, falling down into the depths of the nearest pool with a loud splash.

Cedric’s hand jerked in his, ready to jump in to help the kid, but Harry did not let him, squeezing his hand tight. “Hold on, it’s fine,” he said. “The water is breathable here.”

“Breathable?” Cedric echoed, watching as a dozen or so of the kids jumped in as well, their heads disappearing beneath the surface without a trace.

“How did they do that?” he asked. “Would have been very handy during the second task, wouldn’t it?”

“Must be some of those scuba-spells?” Harry hummed. “I don’t really know.”

“Huh… I guess turning the Great Lake breathable for humans wouldn’t be the smartest move anyway.” Cedric said, smiling sheepishly. “I mean what about all the merpeople and like…” His eyes slid down from Harry's face, landing on where their hands hung connected in a gentle grip. The sheepish smile on his lips turned into something softer, something-

“Fuck the grindylows honestly,” Harry scoffed, turning to search for the nearest path to the water slide he chose. 

“What? No… they’re kinda cute,” Cedric argued. He stepped up to stand right beside him. 

“If it wants to bite your ankles then it’s a menace.”

Cedric laughed. “So which way?”

“That way,” Harry said, pulling him along over to the enclosed black chute that weaved its way through the whole space in tight curls. “This is one of the old school ones so we will have to climb the stairs,” Harry said, loosening his hold on Cedric’s hand so that he could use it to walk up the stairs.

“Not gonna pull me along?” Cedric wondered, squeezing his hand. “Pureblood wizards don’t know how to climb that many stairs without magic. I fear I’m gonna need some help.”

Harry paused on the third step, looking down at Cedric, their clasped hands hanging loosely between them.

Cedric swung them gently in emphasis. “Too much?” he wondered, his hold loosening reflexively.

“Just this once then,” Harry decided way too quickly. So quickly it felt like a selfish desire his logical part must have been unable to fight against.

“Just this once-” he told himself and then entwined their fingers in a tighter grip. “Wouldn’t want you to trip and tumble down to your death after all.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” Cedric muttered from behind him as they set on their silent climb up the high tower of stairs, the exertion of it making their breath harsh around the edges, inviting in the red creep into their cheeks, gentle strain into their thighs.

They had to take a deep breath in once they’ve reached the top of the tower, the hand in Harry’s shaky, damp with sweat and-

“Is that it?” Cedric asked, pulling Harry’s attention away from him, from the roses blooming on his cheeks, from the-

There was a portal made out of swirling water in front of them, the water glistening with the light reflected from the outside of the chute, dipping into a shocking kind of darkness from deep within.

“Yeah.”

“Looks kinda terrifying if I’m being honest,” Cedric noted, using his free hand to swipe his fringe from his forehead. “Is that why there is no line? Is this the eldritch monster of all water slides?”

“Would you follow me in if it was?” Harry wondered, glancing over at him.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” Cedric said, gripping his fingers. “Within reason,” he added.

“To my own timeline?” Harry wondered breathlessly. Why had he-

Cedric thought about that, his eyes disconnecting from the gaze they shared, roaming the vast complex knot of the nearby chutes. “It wouldn’t be a paradox if I did, would it?” he mused. “Because I am dead in your original timeline.”

“Precisely.”

“Think you’d be able to go back to your original timeline though?” Cedric wondered. “Did you try -”

“Ahh.” Harry smiled, shaking his head. “You’re thinking about it in too much detail. It was more of a hypothetical, you know? Which I probably shouldn’t even have asked, so why don’t we-”

“Healer Strout said…”

“Do we have to do that now?” Harry sighed, turning away, the hold he had on Cedric’s hand growing lax. 

“It’s her theory that there is no original timeline,” Cedric pushed through, not letting go. “That this is your original timeline, that your body is just trying to deal with the sudden changes in it by doing all of this merging and remerging, that eventually you’d-”

“Rickie…”

“ That eventually you and the other Harry, that you’d merge into one once the timeline stabilises,” Cedric finished. “If you let yourself, that is.”

“It’s just a theory, Rickie.”

“What’s the harm in trying though?” Cedric wondered. “There’s barely time for one water slide like this, imagine if you could have the full four hours in this place just to-”

Harry jerked his hand away from him at that, but Cedric’s hold was too solid. Their hands just swung. Harry could almost hear the squeaking of a rusty swing back at the Privet Drive as he watched the motion of it.

“What about Harry then?”

“You are Harry,” Cedric said. “It’s what healer Strout thinks anyway.”

“How can I be, I am-”

“You have his memories, don’t you? You’ve been collecting them this whole time. Your mind is working overtime just to collect them all, it’s taking longer and longer breaks to sync it all up, eventually you will be all synced up and then-”

“What about Harry then?” Harry repeated his question more sternly. “He’s just going to disappear? To make way for me? To make way for a… depressed defeated man? Why? If he could live his life like this? This wondrous life we managed to create for him. Wouldn’t it be a waste if he just got replaced by me?”

“You are him though?” Cedric said. “You are no longer the depressed defeated man, can’t you see? His memories are changing-”

“Why do people keep insisting on that?” Harry wondered. “How can I be him? Just because I have his memories? If I took out all my memories and gave them all to you, does that mean you are me and I have no need to exist anymore?”

“That’s not the same.”

“How is that not the same?” Harry pressed a hand against his face, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips. “Why don’t people understand-”

“We understand, but-”

“Think about it from my perspective for once,” Harry begged. “What if you went back and saved your younger self from dying. What if everything you changed helped him have a life you never even dared to imagine. What if you had all those wonderful memories in your brain, all of this joy and love … and what if somebody told you it could all be yours, you just had to devour your younger self and take his place. What would you do?”

“I wouldn’t-”

“See?”

“No, let me finish,” Cedric insisted. “I wouldn’t be devouring him as you said. I would just accept I am him. I would accept-”

“Would you?” Harry wondered.

“Well…”

“Ah.”

Cedric pursed his lips. “Fine, but we’re both self-sacrificial idiots, so none of our opinions count.”

“Ah, that it?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Haz.” Cedric sighed. “Come slide down this whirlpool of misery with me before time whisks you away again.”

Harry huffed out a laugh at that. “It’s not a whirlpool of misery. It’s a-

Cedric did not wait for him to finish though, pulling him in the swirling portal, their bodies passing through the magical membrane that help the water from overspilling, leaving the nicely lit tower behind them, the darkness stretching out to greet them, using the stream to pull them in, eager for their bodies, eager for their minds.

And for the few breathless moments it was indeed way too dark for them to see anything, the only indication of their own existence the tight hold of their clasped hands - the first squeeze of them when Cedric took a startled breath in, the second when Harry exhaled a laugh, the water swallowing both of those noises, the magic acknowledging them with what felt like air entering their lungs, which shouldn’t really be possible, but it was, it was, because this was magic. And this magic was kind, this magic was beautiful.

And with that the darkness made way for the first stars to surface, their light distant and gentle, their twinkling colors throwing flares into the water around them, at the swirling bodies, at their cheeks tight with laughter.

Harry looked over at Cedric, the rush of water distorting the edges of him, but the stars all around them painted his skin in a multitude of bright colors, sharpening the disappearing edges centimeter by centimeter.  Harry’s brain worked overtime to try and puzzle the pieces together and failed, instead pushing them all together into one turbulent thought, a thought-

A thought he-

Oh. Oh no, this was fun.

Cedric laughed when their eyes met, the grey of his eyes brighter with the rainbow of color colliding all around them, his irises reflecting all of it back at Harry, all of the-

I’m not the hazard here, am I? Harry realized, his eyes wide. It’s been you all along, hasn’t it?

He needed to let go-

He realized that if he didn’t let go now then surely, then surely he wouldn’t ever be able to let go ever again and that would-

It would-

The centrifugal force of the stream tried to pull them apart, yanking their bodies in opposite directions, their connected arms growing taunt. Cedric swung, grabbing his hand between both of his, pulling him in, their bodies crashing into each other, the impact of it causing them both to huff out a startled laugh and oh-

It was too late, wasn’t it?

It was too fucking late to-

He was gonna be selfish as fuck unless-

Before he could make any actual decision, the stream spit them out into the actual air, right into an empty black pool at the bottom of the water slide. Harry let go of Cedric, so they wouldn’t both drown white holding onto each other. He kicked off the bottom of the pool to swim up above the surface. While being able to breathe in the water was all nice and dandy, his instincts still forced him to hold his breath until he breached the surface, the loud choke almost startling after the hushed silence of the chute.

“Whoa, that was awesome!” Cedric exclaimed from beside him. He moved his hand over his face to get rid of the water sliding down his skin, rubbed a hand through his hair to push it back in all the needed places and then grinned over at Harry. 

“Wanna go again?”

“I would love to,” Harry said, but the telltale feeling of a hook lodged deep within his navel was already prevalent enough. “But…”

“That’s alright. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Cedric said, reaching for his hand. Harry watched the fingers extend towards him through the water, the-

“Rickie, I-”

“I’ll see you soon again, yeah?” Cedric repeated, grabbing his wrist. “Think of something fun you wanna do next, alright?”

Harry sighed. “Fun.”

“Fun, yea.”

“Rickie-”

“It’s alright, I know.”

“But you don’t,” Harry couldn’t help saying, the tug in his navel more insistent already. “Not really.”

“I can wager a guess,” Cedric said, smiling sadly. “We’re both self-sacrificial idiots after all.”

Harry huffed out a wet laugh.

“I’ll see you soon, Haz,” Cedric said, as if there was no doubt he would be back. As if he would tear through the White Place to pull him back with his bare hands should he have to.

“I’ll see you soon, Rickie,” he croaked out, feeling unsteady. The hook in his navel used that to its advantage and pulled him out of Harry’s body before he could say or do anything else. 

Chapter 23

Notes:

In loving memory of Manina.

A light pressed upon his eyelids, the warmth of which he couldn’t feel on his skin, but the sting of which reached all the way to the depths of his heart. Harry took a startled breath in, blinking through it, expecting the sharp whiteness of his Purgatory, but what he saw instead was a soft morning light streaming in through the window of the cottage nestled in the middle of the strawberry field, Cedric’s memory shielding him from the White Place better than anything or anyone ever could.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Cedric’s grandma said so suddenly, so directly, that Harry turned, staring over at her in wonder. She was standing over the big wooden dining table at the side of the living room, her hand holding a plate. She smiled at him, placing it on the table next to a cup of steaming tea.

“You better hurry before I eat it all,” Cedric’s grandpa joined in. He was sitting at the table already, rows upon rows of Penny Bun mushrooms in all sizes, shapes and forms laid down on a newspaper in front of him, a knife in his hand as he cleaned the dirt of the stems and picked out parts of it he wasn’t fully satisfied with.

“Wha-”

“You went on a morning mushroom hunt without me?” Cedric spoke up, walking to the table.

“Oh, sorry, I- I don’t know why I thought you were talking to me.” Harry laughed sheepishly, but sat down right next to Cedric anyway.

“Did you want me to wake you up at 3 in the morning to go trekking through the woods?”

Cedric scrunched up his nose in response to that.

“See,” Eldrich said. He put the last clean mushroom on the newspaper next to the rest of them. Then pulled over a cutting board and a bowl full of water and started to cut the mushrooms into small precise pieces.

“Teen boys need a lot of sleep to grow,” Agatha added. “And a lot of food,” she said, nudging the plate closer to Cedric. “Now, eat.”

Her eyes went up to the ceiling then. The fireflies flitting through the mix of branches and support beams were flickering on and off in the darkness of it all, the sparrows huddled in pairs as the leaves shivered. She pursed her lips at the sight of it. 

Harry hummed in thought, then glanced down at the plate, at the lovely two pieces of toast with scrambled eggs with mushrooms on top of them. He sighed. “Bet that tastes awesome,” he noted, which was confirmed right away when Cedric took a big bite of one of the toasts and hummed in appreciation.

“I'm sure he’d like some of those pickled mushrooms too,” Eldrich noted. “We still have a batch from last year at the back of the- wait, Hil-!”

“Oh, leave the elves be. I will go grab it,” Agatha said, walking out of the living room.

“-ly,” Eldrich finished.

The house elf plopped into existence right next to him. “Yes, Master Eldrich, sir?”

“Oh, could you help Agatha get a jar of those pickled mushrooms we have left over from last year?” he asked. “She didn’t ask for help, but I bet they’re stacked somewhere high up at the back and she-”

“Yes, Master.” Hilly popped off before he could even finish the sentence. She was back a second later. “Would Master Eldrich like help with the mushrooms? Milly is almost done with-”

“No, no,” he said. “You know how I feel about the mushroom stuff.”

Hilly just nodded and popped off again. 

“I can help,” Cedric spoke up.

“Nonsense.”

“If you’re worried about any magic touching them directly,” Cedric started, pointing at the unmoving pictures on the muggle newspaper. “I’ve been working on it. I can now-”

“I'm sure your magic is fine, Rickie, but really, I don’t-

Before Eldrich could continue his sentence properly, a voice interrupted him, a voice that sounded like it came right from in front of Harry albeit there was nobody seated opposite of him, the dining chair yawning with emptiness. 

“...fly broo…?” he heard Sirius say. 

Harry leaned in, trying to catch the end of the question, hoping his brain would maybe catch up to the beginning of it as well, but it was gone before he could even properly register the words.

“Sirius?” He blinked in confusion, unsure. He pushed himself up from the chair and leaned in over the table to try and catch anything else, but the only thing he caught was the conversation going on on the left side of him.

Agatha has joined them back at the dining table, offering an opened jar of pickled mushrooms to Cedric. 

“When are Mic and Cho coming over?” she was asking just when Harry turned back to them.

“Mmm, soon,” Cedric said, using a little spoon to meticulously dig up the tiniest mushroom cups in the jar. “But they can help too. I've been teaching them to-”

“Is that how you want to spend your birthday?” Eldrich wondered. Agatha walked around the table, bracing herself on his shoulder midwalk, her breath coming out in soft puffs. He reached up to put his hand over hers, but she just shook her head, wrenching her hand away before he could- could what ? Wha-

“Yes, it’s much more fun than the banquet my dad had planned for the evening,” Cedric complained, his eyes on his plate. “I won’t even know any of the people there with the school year still in progress. It’s just gonna be a- do I really have to go?” He looked up at that, his grandparents sitting opposite of him with pleasant smiles on their faces.

Harry frowned, his eyes flitting up to the ceiling. He climbed up on the chair and jumped on the table, ignoring the conversation below for a moment. The fireflies definitely looked a lot brighter than they did before, didn’t they?

“How about we don’t-”

“Agatha, darling, hush,” Eldrich interrupted, leaning over to Cedric. “How about we go too? And we can take Mic and Cho, huh? Besides, I think it’s important to get to know people, especially if-”

“People-shmeople,” Agatha said, waving her hand around. 

Harry watched the sparrows open their wings to shake off their feathers happily, watched the leaves curl around the drops of morning dew. 

“I already knew you’ve been feeding the ancestral home your magic,” Harry muttered, looking down at the tired set of Agatha’s shoulders. “But the question is-”

“People-schmeople?” Eldrich continued as if there wasn’t a grown adult man walking on the dining table. “May I remind you how we met? At one of your birthday banquets?”

“Well, that was different.”

“Oh, was it?”

“Yes, that’s not how young folks do it anymore. You heard him yourself, none of his classmates are going to attend. Back in the old days we all went to those, we formed friendships and- it just turned into this sour political affair these days, it’s boring and it’s tedious and we should all boycott it and-”

“Amos finds it fun, Agatha,” Eldrich reminded her. 

“Amos finds a lot of boring shit fun.”

Cedric giggled. Harry tore his eyes from the ceiling, looking down at him covering his mouth to not snort into his breakfast toast. 

“A muggle swear word? Agatha!”

She grinned over at him. “You should try it too sometimes, it’s fun.”

Eldrich put his knife down. “Fuck,” he said, making Cedric erupt into a fit of laughter just as he was swallowing the last bite of his toast. He coughed, choking on it a bit and then continued on laughing.

Agatha nodded in satisfaction, looking over at Cedric. “Your turn, Rickie.”

“Oh, um,” Cedric gulped. “Damn…?”

“Twat!” Agatha exclaimed.

“Piss off,” Eldrich joined in.

Harry jumped off the table back to his chair, yelling: “Bitch!” ,a breathless laughter falling off his mouth. 

Cedric giggled in a shocked disbelief.

“It’s just words, come on.” Agatha laughed. “It’s the same as  casting Unforgivables. If there is no mean intent behind it then it won’t do anything."

“Don’t teach him that.” Eldrich laughed too. “Even if it won’t do anything, there is still consequences to-”

“Oh, do teach him that,” Harry argued. He plopped down on the chair, his sides still hurting from the giggles he wasn't able to fight only to-

“...Hedwig…” he heard himself say. The intrusive sound was this time accompanied by a flash of white, the gentle tickle of feathers in his face. 

Harry pushed himself away from the table, stumbling back.

“The fuck is going on…? Wha…?” he wondered, caressing his face. The sensation was gone and it didn’t matter how hard he dug his fingers in his skin, he couldn’t feel any of it anymore, but he was sure, he felt the- he felt -

The fireplace in the room sparked, pulling his attention. It looked as if it got stuck in trying to make a connection, something nobody else noticed. A small flare of green fire licked up the left wall, disappearing into the bricks as if it decided at the very last minute to relocate the connection to a different fireplace, but in the end decided to stay there, the fire returning back in. It flared up at the middle of the fireplace, still slightly upturned, turned to the left as if it wasn’t exactly sure, as if-

Harry turned around to look out of the nearest window, to look up the hill full of strawberry plants, to look over the hill to where-

“Happy Birthday, Ced!” Mic yelled from behind him, causing Harry to divert his attention back to the memory playing out around him. 

“Happy Birthday!” Cho yelled right after.

They both threw themselves at Cedric, heedless of the soot still clinging to their Hogwarts' uniforms. 

Harry ignored the cheers playing out on the right and stared at the fireplace again, lost in thought. Stared at the sparks flying out of the embers, all of them drawn to the left as if there was a breeze pulling at the air in the chimney, a breeze that led to the left instead of upwards though. Harry bent down to look into the chimney, impressed by the integrity of Cedric’s memory as it showed the bricks going up and up… there was no vent on the left though. Neither was there one on the right that could perhaps throw the sparks off. Nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing except for the-

“What the hell is wrong with this memory?” Harry wondered aloud, trying to focus on the group of people at the dining table. “Did you mess up the extraction, Rickie?”

He glanced back into the chimney watching the intricate details on the bricks. “No, that can't be it, it’s fully rendered.” He straightened back up. “Is it me? Am I doing this? Is it falling apart because my mind is falling apart already too?” He looked around, waiting for more anomalies, but nothing happened. “Is it the White Place attacking- no.”

“We gotta help gramps-” Cedric protested as Mic and Cho started to pull him outside.

“Nah, you go Rickie, me and Nanna will enjoy our morning here,” Eldrich said.

“Have fun!” Agatha called after him.

Harry moved to follow after them, worried that the memory will fall apart for real this time, but a gap at the side of the fireplace caught his eye. The darkness inside it pointed to a whole different time of the day in the living room. He did not hesitate to walk through, following the connection to the stray memory.

The gap led him to a hallway of what must have been the cottage as well. He stood side to side with an older Cedric, who was hiding in the shadows at the end of the hallway, behind a sideboard topped up with woven baskets, one of them very reminiscent of the one Eldrich had at his feet just a few moments ago. This time, it didn’t offer a load of yummy mushrooms, it offered a cover for Cedric to listen in on the conversation beyond, at the back door to the cottage. 

Amos Diggory was talking to his father Eldrich, his tone not as hushed as it could have been, growing angrier and louder by the second. 

“That stubborn woman, she won't take any of our magic! She would rather die before she does!” he wailed. 

“Amos, can you take in the elves?” Eldrich asked, waving his hand in the direction of the kitchen off to the side, where no doubt the three house elves were lined up, waiting.

Amos shook his head, taking a step back. “So that's it? We’re just giving up? She's still alive! She’s right there behind the door. She can no doubt still hear us. Why won’t she-”

“Take them, Amos, please.”

“Aren’t you going to argue with her?”

“If it’s that’s what she-”

“Is that what she said?” Amos wondered unkindly. He let out a laugh when Eldrich just shook his head.

“She didn't speak to you either, did she? Why won't she talk to us? Why won't she look at us ?”

“She spoke to the healer.”

“She spoke - “ Amos scoffed. “But she won’t speak to us? To her family? Her son ? Her husband? Her-”

“The healer said she wishes to-”

“The healer!?

It was then, that out of nowhere, Harry was flooded by an overwhelming feeling of happiness. He laughed out loud- quickly covering his mouth in shock as it happened, his eyes snapping over to Cedric.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to... laugh. I don’t know what came over me just then.”

“What do they know?!” Amos yelled then, drowning out his whispers. “They refused to take her to Mungo’s-”

“ She refused to leave. It was her decision.”

“Fuck that! Can’t you pay them to take her away before this fucking house sucks her dry? Can't you?”

“Amos, language,” Eldrich noted. “They said without an heir to take over, taking her away would kill her. It would kill the house. I am not going to kill my wife-”

“She will die anyways. She will die if she won't-”

“Amos…”

“She refuses to give the ownership of it over to me….”

“Amos, that’s not…”

“It’s always been like that, hasn't it? She refuses to- am I not worthy of the Diggory heirloom? Am I not her son? Why does she deprive me of what is rightfully mine? Why does she- ”

“She loves you.”

“If she loved me, she would have given me what I wanted! She would have helped me gain more power at the Ministry! She would have helped me find a more lucrative marriage match. She would have helped me raise a more respectable son!”

Cedric shifted, taking a step away, moving further into the shadows at the back of the hallway, to the door leading deeper inside the cottage. 

“Rickie…,” Harry whispered. 

“That’s not-” Eldrich started to say, but was almost immediately interrupted by Amos. 

“That’s what the purebloods families do! They take care of their own! They make sure their house keeps on thriving. Isn’t that what being pureblood is about? Isn’t that it?” he wondered. “Family above all?”

Harry saw Eldrich open his mouth to mutter something, but the sound of it did not reach his ears, because Cedric was already moving away from the conversation, the memory of the following words not accessible to any of them anymore. 

Harry spared one last look at Amos, whose voice came through in erratic shouts. “Why can’t she…?!” he wailed. “The Malfoys-!” could be heard a moment later and then all the sounds fell off, leaving the hallway eerily quiet.

Harry did not wait for the memory to fall apart around him, he did not wait for the first piercing rays of light from the White Place to come through. Not this time. Instead he just followed Cedric into the living room.

He almost bumped into him right at the entrance though. Cedric was standing there surveying the room in its entirety with a defeated slump in his shoulders, stuck there in a silent sort-of fear, fear to even approach-

Agatha was lying on a makeshift bed in the middle of the room - three mattresses stacked haphazardly on top of each other, a mismatched set of pillows stuck beneath her head, a thin blanket covering her frail body. She was lying on her back, her arms splayed out next to her body, thin and veiny, her face turned up to the ceiling, her eyes fixed on it, fixed on the bare branches, on the barely moving sparrows, on the lifeless dark mess of beams that somehow still breathed, but each breath of it weak, barely noticeable, barely even there.

Cedric’s gaze shifted from her frail body up to the ceiling above, the state of it making him pull his lower lip against the sob that was no doubt threatening to wrench its way out of his lips. He lifted his hand to press it against his mouth, forcing it to stay in, forcing some sort of calm over his facade and then… hesitantly, he stepped forward. 

Agatha did not react to his approach, nor did she react to him pulling a nearby chair to one side of her makeshift bed to sit down on it. He looked down at her then. Opened his mouth, closed it again. 

He reached out to hesitantly put his hand on hers, but before he could touch her skin, she shifted her hand out of the reach, folding it over her stomach, away from him.

“I- I wasn’t gonna give you my magic, I was just-,” Cedric spoke up, his voice breaking. “Sorry, Nannie. I'm sorry, I-” He hid his hands between his thighs, looking away from her, looking out into the strawberry field beyond, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

Harry reached out to put his hand on his shoulder, the hand sinking through his yellow sweater. He kept it there even though it wouldn’t offer the memory of him any comfort.

“I know…” Cedric spoke up suddenly, staring out at the field. “I know you don’t want to talk to us and that’s… that’s okay. I- sometimes I don’t want to talk to anybody either, you know?” He forced his eyes back to her then. “I just…” But when she didn't  react, when she continued to just lay there with the occasional tired blink of her eyes, the barely visible movement of her chest, he hesitated, looked down at his hands and muttered a quick: “I don’t know. I'm sorry.” before going fully silent again. 

It was in that moment, in that inappropriate moment again that Harry felt a weird sensation on his tongue, a sensation that make him shake his head because that was indeed the taste of a fucking cinnamon treacle tart and he was neither in the mood nor in the fucking -

He bit his tongue to stop it from tasting food that wasn’t really there, the bite feeling like nothing and then turned over to Agatha again. “What is this?” he wondered aloud. He let go of Cedric’s shoulder and leaned in properly. “Is this just stubborn avoidance or is this something else? It can’t be anything magic related, not if the healer said you talked to them, so why… why are you not-”

He looked up at the ceiling then, looked back at Agatha stubbornly staring at it. “You’re hiding something,” he summarized. “It can’t be that the house is sucking you dry. They all know it’s sucking you dry… what are you hiding?” He walked around her, standing on the opposite side, watching her from the left while Cedric watched her sadly from the right. 

“What are you hiding?” He looked up at the ceiling again, studied the branches reaching out to the left of the ceiling, the sparrows huddled on the right side motionless, the ones on the left moving their beaks tiredly. 

“It’s sucking you dry, you don’t know why,” Harry repeated to himself, following the directions the branches were pointing in, following them over to the window on the left, to the window that was turned over to the hill. “Once it sucks you dry and you die, it- it won’t go dormant like mine did, will it? It will choose a new heir and the whole thing will start again,” he said aloud, looking back at her. “But you love your husband and despite what he thinks I think you also love your son… and you love Rickie. And so you- you what? You don’t talk, you refuse to leave- oh, you’re making sure you’re going to die here, at this very place, aren’t you? ”

 

_ 

 

Harry expected to wake up back at St Mungo’s again, he expected Sirius and Remus and his own younger self to be relentless in their pursuit of whatever they thought was the proper state of things and they indeed were - except this time it would have seemed they brought St Mungo’s to them, because they thought it would be more comfortable for both the young and his old version. And that-

Harry pushed the memories of that discussion out of the way and opened his eyes to- well, to his room at the Black summer residence, the one he almost burned down in a fit of anger and depression, the one he found comfort in years later. The one… that wasn’t abandoned this time around, the one he apparently even had his own room in. In Harry’s old time, he used to just… doze off on the couch downstairs, too scared to even see the rooms Sirius and Remus might have used. This time though…

Oh, he knew what to expect when he opened his eyes, he had the memories of decorating the room with them both, but having the memories, muddled by time as they usually were, was nothing compared to actually seeing it for himself. To actually see the high canopy reminiscent of the beds at Hogwarts but this time in a more gentle airy blue color, to see the high walls corrected in a darker blue color wallpaper, to see the light wood so different from all this heavy wood at Hogwarts, so different from the cheap laminate the Dursleys furnished their house with. It was-

It was too much.

It was just a room for sure, but the things in it spoke a different story - The Firebolt hanging on the wall near the window with the messily discarded Quidditch gear lying beneath, the row of sleeping golden snitches on a shelf next to it, right next to the rows upon rows of books from the wizarding and the muggle world alike; Hedwig’s self cleaning perch positioned in front of a wall full of photographs with the mute laugher only wizarding photos could deliver, some of them recent more fluent; some of them old, the movement stalled a tad, but still so alive, so real and that one motionless one of his mom at the corner; the one cherished one from her childhood with her sister that she kept for herself, that they dug out from the rubble of his old home, then one she died at, the one he revived, the one-

It was too much!

It was nothing like the cupboard beneath the stairs he grew up in, not with all these nostalgic, random and silly things in it. Nothing like the smallest bedroom in that stupid suburban house. It was cozy, lived-in and and it contained so much love and care that Harry thought he would choke on it were he to remain there for longer than a couple of more minutes. 

He reached out to the bedside table, moved his fingers around until they connected with the frame of his glasses and then sat up as he pushed them onto his face.

“Healer Strout,” he greeted, turning towards where she was sitting in an armchair on his right. “We gotta stop meeting like this. A straighter man might think you have a thing for him.”

Healer Strout chuckled, banishing the dozen or so charts she had crowding her personal space. “Was that meant to make me uncomfortable, Mr. Potter?” She smiled, leaning back to write something into her notebook. I would have you know I am not that easily deterred.”

Harry's eyes glanced down at what she was writing, the angle of it made it impossible to read any of the words though. 

“Well, I don’t suppose you have reconsidered my offer, have you?” she asked, glancing up at him. 

“I really don’t have the time for-”

“Our session here is done then,” she said, waving her hand in the direction of the door, her attention back to her notebook. “Let me just finish writing down some of the progress we made and then I’ll be on my way.”

Harry nodded, pushing himself off the bed. He was just about to put his feet against the floor to push himself up and walk off, but-

“By progress… do you mean…?” he started to ask, unsure if he wanted to know the answer but too curious to not ask. “Do you mean the random inputs I’ve been getting in the White Place? Was that what you're doing?”

Healer Strout looked up at him, quirking her eyebrow. “Could you describe a bit more what you mean by random inputs ?”

“I’ve- it was like tapping into younger Harry’s feed. As if I dipped into his body for just the shortest moment.” Harry frowned. “I thought I heard Sirius talking to me… and now I have the full memory of that even. It was when we were about to go flying out on…” he turned his head, staring at the Firebolt. “I can’t believe I still have that fucking broom, I-”

“Any other inputs worth mentioning?”

Harry glared at her. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he noted.

Healer Strout just shrugged, motioning at the door. “I'm not holding you here, Mr. Potter.”

“I could feel Hedwig’s feathers as younger me cuddled her and I could feel a random like-” He pressed his hand against his chest. “I had a random burst of happiness. And then there was a taste of a treacle tard.”

“Interesting,” she noted, but didn’t elaborate.

“I don’t need you to tell me anything, you know?” Harry said. “I already know what you've been doing from the memories I have. I already know you and Harry have been working on… what? On connecting us two? Is that what this is?”

“Why would you care what me and Harry are doing? It doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, but it does! It obviously very much does!”

“How?”

“Because you’re trying to merge us together, aren’t you? You are trying to get me to stay and I don’t want-” his voice cracked around the lie, around the horrible lie that-

It was too fucking much!

“I don’t want to stay,” he finished, feeling as if he had just cast an Unforgivable on himself… and he meant it, but he also didn’t actually mean it but it took effect anyway and he- what the fuck was he doing? What the fuck was he supposed to-?

“Are you familiar with the condition we wizards call Vitrail, Mr. Potter?”

Harry took a stuttering breath in, concentrating on Healer Strout. “The wha-”

“ Vitrail comes from the French word used for stained glass . It’s a mental condition in which the mind splinters into different faucets, into different glass shards, each of them a different color, a different shape, you might say,” she explained, raising her notebook, the sketch of different shapes pressed tightly together building a picture of something that looked vaguely like a flower. She traced around one of the edges then, making the line connecting two of the petals thicker. “Unable to process a repetitive trauma as is, the mind splinters off walling off each of the shards, well, not by copped foil as you might have guessed, but by memory walls or amnesia barriers.”

Harry followed the lines she was tracing with his eyes, the anxiety in his chest easing up at the repetitiveness of it.

“You might be more familiar with the muggle term for it. They used to call it the multiple personality disorder , but lately the more preferred term, the more correct term for it is dissociative identity disorder . It’s basically the same thing in muggles, the mind fracturing under duress, but for them it only occurs when a repetitive trauma is experienced during early childhood. That is when the muggle’s personality is still developing and so is more susceptible to developing a dissociation of such scale,” she explained. “Of course for wizards it might develop during adulthood too, what with our identity, our soul you light say, our magical core as we in the medical field would prefer calling it, is more flexible than that for a muggle. I did treat a few-”

“And you think-”

“ I am sure this is what’s happening in your mind too, now.” She nodded. “The test I've run on your mind, it shows the exact same results as that of a wizard experiencing Vitrail .”

“So… as a side effect of time travelling I gave my younger mind enough trauma to-”

“No, Mr. Potter,” Healer Strout interrupted. She put her notebook down, cuddling her fingers over the spine. “I am fairly sure it’s the other way around. It’s not time travelling with side effects. I think it’s Vitrail with side effects.”

“I- what?”

“You confessed on multiple occasions that you have no idea how it is you’re time travelling, correct? You said, and I quote Mr. Diggory here, that you are unable to focus on the cause itself? Well, the reason there is no cause in the future you come from is perhaps because the cause was in the past instead.”

Harry stared. “What… what are you saying?”

“I am saying, Mr. Potter, that you are certainly a victim of repetitive trauma and abuse and stressful life-threatening situations. Wouldn’t it have been realistic for your mind to try and cope with it by-”

“But I am not splintered off into-”

Healer Strout nodded, opening her notebook again. “Would you like to go through the main symptoms of Vitrail , Mr. Potter?”

“Symptoms? I've never had any symp-”

“Having at least two identities present in one's mind,” she said, looking up at him.

“Right, but that’s just- wait, no, it’s always either me in the body or Harry, it’s not like we are both in the body at the same time, I-”

“The fact that you were able to receive input from Harry, Mr. Potter, proves otherwise. This White Place you speak of must be in Harry’s mind, how else would you be able to receive the input at all if you were not present in the body?”

“I- might have just… developed a connection to the body, I suppose?”

“And how do you know Harry is not in the body right now? Have you tried looking inside at all? Or were you that focused on your own agenda that you didn’t even attempt to properly communicate?”

“Fine, I- fine .”

Healer Strout noted. “Next we have amnesia… memory gaps?”

“I don’t have those at all.”

“You didn’t have those ever?”

“That was the hor- that was Vol- You-Know-Who just trying to fuck with me. I don’t exactly have real memory gaps. I just like… fainted a lot, because my mind was weak against-!”

“Mhmmm.”

“I don’t have memory gaps! Not like that!”

“Harry does though, doesn't he?”

“Yes, but it’s because- there is a perfectly sound explanation for all of those and it’s not -”

“Also, don’t you wake up without the memories at all, only for you to get magically updated because-”

“Now you’re just connecting things that have nothing to do with each other, you know?”

“Fine,” she said, calling up a chart with a wave of her wand. “What about the unstable magical core then? Almost precisely as unstable as my other Vitrail patients.” She called up a dozen more charts and overlaid the graphs in the middle, showing off an almost identical line undulating up and down in the same pattern.

“That could be a coincidence,” Harry reasoned. “That could just be me throwing the core out of balance by-”

“Or it could be a strong magical core that is experiencing Vitrail . It could be a magical core that’s so unstable by the Vitrail that it splinters off the mind, not only in space but also in time ,” she insisted. “Surely a core that necessitates such a strong lock would be capable of-”

“So, am I a walking time-turner now?” Harry scoffed. “Is that it?”

“Do not mock my expertise Mr. Potter,” Healer Strout countered. “You asked for it. The least you can do is respect it for what it is.”

Harry just looked at her for a couple of very long moments, the overlaid graphs in front of her face distorting her features.

“Fine,” he allowed. “Fine… let’s say your expertise- let’s say it’s all true. Is- uh. I am assuming that merging us together is the cure then?”

“I wouldn’t call it a cure, not necessarily," she said. “It’s one of the possible outcomes, yes.” She raised her right hand, pressing her fingers together. ”For some patients the goal is a full integration, one full identity.” She raised her left hand, wiggling her five fingers. “For some other patients it’s functional multiplicity, a harmony among the existing parts.”

“Uh… can’t you just… fix Harry with magic…? If we just erase me….”

“Erasing you may not “fix” things as you say. Erasing you would just create a cascade of amnesia and possible failures to Harry's mind. The mind needs you to exist, is why you were created in the first place, after all.”

“I- okay…”

“What is important for you to know is that there is no simple charm I can just cast on you to “fix things” so to say,” she said. “This is the outcome of years upon years of something nobody should be forced to live through, this sort of repetitive trauma… on a child no less. I-”

“I'm fine,” Harry said automatically.

“You are the part that actually remembers all of the abuse, all of the traumatic experiences, the potential ones even… there is no way for you to be fine.”

“All the more reason not to merge with Harry,” he noted. “Don’t you think?”

“If that’s what you'd prefer, I would respect it. I can talk to Harry about it once he is back and we can see if we can agree on trying to reach functional multiplicity instead,” she said. “I do have to warn you, that sometimes even if we aim for one or the other, the mind might gravitate towards something else. It is not for us to decide which outcome will be the healthiest, we can only try and make life as functional as we can, that is the ultimate goal. If what the mind really needs to do is merge you two when the time reaches the moment you’d consider your present time, there won’t be anything we will be able to do about it.”

“So…. so it’s out of my hands really, is that what you’re saying?” Harry summarized. “The best thing I can do is just try to live with it? Try to make it work with Harry? With you?”

“Yes.”

“No dying?”

“Well, I don’t think you could die without Harry himself dying, that’s not how Vitrail works. You are all parts of a whole, parts of a system you may say. There… might be more, a lot of my patients have more parts than just two you know, not that I've noticed any other parts emerging other than you two. I just thought I’d mention it,” she said. “What you can do is go dormant. I don’t think you yourself have any power over going dormant or not though. If you had you obviously wouldn’t be here anymore.”

“Well… maybe I just need to finish the things I started and then-”

“But until then, the best way forward would be to-”

Harry stood up. “I- I don't… I’ll have to think about this. Later. I- I don’t think I have time for this anymore, I- there’s some important stuff I would like to take care of before I am whisked away again. If you don’t mind.”

Healer Strout nodded. She waved the charts off and folded her hands around her notebook. “Take all the time you need, Mr. Potter.”

Harry headed for the door, hesitating at the threshold. “I thought I was dying what with the- what with how hard it is for me to find purchase in the body.” He turned back to her. “What’s your expertise on that?”

“There can be negative or positive triggers that cause a switch like that. Positive ones like those we used to feed you all of that input,” she said, leaning into her palm. “And negative…. say, Mr. Potter, have you been exposed to any stressors lately?”

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “Me? Stressors? Never.” And with that he walked out of the bedroom.

 

_

 

With how much time he wasted talking to the Healer, Harry figured he didn’t exactly have time to take care of everything that was on his mental list and so really had no other choice, no matter how much he was against it, but to ask for help. The quickest and easiest would be of course to enlist-

“Moo- Remus?” he called out, walking into the room at the far end of the hallway that he knew from Harry’s memories was a reading room Remus liked to sit in around this time of the day. 

Remus was indeed there, curled up on one of the couches by the window, a blanket thrown over his folded-up legs, a book leaned against his knees, a new freshly healed wound cutting through his left eyebrow.

“Lupin? Mr…?” Harry called out again, nudging the door open. “The fuck am I even supposed to call yo-”

Remus glanced up at him from over the book. “Oh, future Harry, I presume?”

Harry paused at the threshold, hovering awkwardly. “Yea.”

“Hmm, perhaps we should stop calling you future Harry, shouldn’t we?” Remus mused, returning back to his book. “It’s not exactly time travel, the healer said.”

“I guess,” Harry muttered, trying to figure out how to approach this. Maybe he should just-

“You stayed long enough to talk a bit more with Healer Strout, right? She explained…?” Remus wondered, his eyes glued to the book in front of him.

“Yea, sorta. It’s… kinda wild.”

“Not as wild as being a werewolf, I'm sure,” Remus hummed, flipping a page in his book. 

“That’s fair,” Harry said.

Remus looked up at him. “Is it?”

“Yes, though being compared to your werewolf side is kinda cool, not gonna lie,” Harry said, offering him a weak smile. 

“Cool?” Remus asked in deadpan, the scar over his eyebrow stretching uncomfortably as it moved up his forehead. 

“Well, he didn’t eat us in the Third year, did he?”

“Wow, your standards sure are low.”

Harry just shrugged sheepishly. “I know.” He sighed. “Truce?”

“Truce.” Remus nodded. “We were gonna go grab lunch in the Diagon Alley, but then Harry fell over and yea… do you want to go with us instead? If not, that’s fine too, we can just take Harry out for dinner, I suppose.”

“Yea, no, I actually-”

Remus finally looked up from his book. “Yes?”

“I need… your help.”

“Yes?” Remus just repeated, waiting.

“It’s… it’s not for me, it’s nothing life-threatening for Harry, I promise. I just don’t have the time and-” Harry took a breath in. “If you'd have time, I would need somebody to go over to the Ministry to access the National Registry of Ancestral Homes and get me information on a property that might have been located at the other side of the hill from the ancestral home the Diggorys own.”

“I can do that,” Remus said, closing the book. He stood up, throwing it back to the nest of a blanket and looked up at Harry. “I assume that’s where you’re headed now? To meet with Cedric at his ancestral home?”

“Yea.”

“You always disappearing with Cedric is-”

“- nothing to be worried about.”

“I wasn’t worried about it,” Remus said. He grabbed the long grey cardigan that was thrown over the back of the couch and pulled it on. “I was more… curious than anything else. It’s like that’s the reason you keep returning- to plan things with him, to hang out with him. It’s- I am glad you have somebody you trust.”

“I do trust him.”

“Mhmm, I can see that.”

“I owe him so much.”

“Mhmm, we all owe him for what he’s been doing.”

“He deserves… something in return.”

“He does.” Remus looked over at him. “And from all the things you could give him… this is what you think he needs the most?”

Harry pursed his lips. “Uh, I- I better go now. There’s not enough time to-”

“I better go now too…,” Remus said, bundling himself up in the cardigan. “Oh, and if you need a passage to the Diggorys, ask Sirius, yea? He’s downstairs. He’ll open up the fireplace for you, hm?” And with that he turned on the spot, apparating away and leaving Harry alone in the room. 

“Well… fuck.”

Harry didn’t immediately leave the room in search of Sirius, he stalled a bit by calling up his Patronus to send it after Cedric. Only after the Patronus nudged at his hand affectionately, only after he patted its shiny fluorescent head, only after it disappeared through the wall on the left did he head downstairs. 

“Oh, what do we have here?” Sirius said in lieu of a greeting as soon as he saw him walking down the stairs. He was lounging on the rug near a fireplace, playing around with a practice snitch. “Back so soon?”

“I need to get to Cedric’s ancestral home,” Harry said. “The cottage at the strawberry field?”

Sirius sat up. “And you expect me to just-”

Harry stopped at the bottom of the stairs, gripping the handrail. “I'm sorry,” he said. 

“Huh?”

“I'm sorry,” Harry repeated, louder this time. 

A grin spread over Sirius’ lips. “Huuh?” 

“I'm sorry!” Harry exclaimed. “Is that what you want to hear? I know I've been acting like an asshole. I know I've said the worst fucking things ever, I know . I did it on purpose, I- I don’t want to-” He let go of the handrail just to run his hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to get attached … to you especially, I- not if I had to lose you again. And so-” He shook his head. “It doesn't justify any of the shitty things I did and that’s fine- that’s totally fine, I- please, Pad- Siriu s. Please. This is important.”

Sirius stared at him for a moment, then signed, pocketed the snitch and stood up. “Fine,” he conceded. “Under one condition.”

“Anything.”

He spread his arms. “We gotta hug it out.”

“What?”

“That’s how it works. I don’t make the rules,” Sirius said. “Well, Moony makes the rules. He made this one a long long time ago right after I did the thing with the Shrieking Shack… or perhaps even before, when Prongs- no matter , hug?”

Harry shook his head. “ He didn’t want a hug.”

“He’ll want one later then. Be ready.”

Harry looked off to the side. “Can’t we just-”

“It's a hug or nothing, man, come on,” he said, approaching him with a playful smile on his lips. 

“Did you hug Snape after you-”

“Oh, fuck you!” Sirius exclaimed, slapping his thighs as he let his arms fall back down. “Aren’t you in a hurry? Don’t stall!”

“We can skip this whole thing. Remus doesn't need to know,” Harry countered. “I- I can tell you how to unstick your mom’s painting from the wall, if you-?”

“Ahh, tempting, but no.”

Harry made a face. 

“Now now, come on,” Sirius said, raising his arms again. “Bring it in, Potter.”

Harry sighed, shuffling into his personal space, only for Sirius to immediately put his arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a tight hug.

His lungs let out an embarrassing sound at the tight squeeze, Harry freezing in place from the utter mortification of the whole ordeal. 

“You gotta hug back for it to count, you know,” Sirius muttered, swaying him from side to side. “If you don’t I'm just going to lift you and swirl around with you in my arms like some-”

“Nope, no need, hugging you now,” Harry muttered, raising his arms to wind them around Sirius’ waist.

Sirius hummed happily, holding onto him for a few seconds longer, for a few seconds too long in Harry’s personal opinion. He could feel something buried deep down bubbling up to the surface, the boiling water shrinking his lungs, scorching the inside of his throat, threatening to spill through his nose, through his tear duct canals and he-

It was all just too much.

“Okay, I'm sure that’s- that counts,” he forced out, letting go of Sirius. He sniffed silently, gulping everything that wasn’t really there down and then turned to the fireplace. 

“Can you- can you make it a timed connection? Via the cottage in the strawberry fields over to the fireplace behind the hill opposite of it? I need to test something out.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, staring at him still. “The layover between those two is two minutes, got that? You need to hustle to not miss it.”

“It’s fine, I don’t need to go through,” Harry said, turning away from him. “I just need to see what it does.”

“Huh?”

“I promise it’s nothing nefarious… I'm trying to help Cedric revive his ancestral home, is all. You don’t have to worry.”

“Oh.”

“And…” Harry looked at Sirius then. “Maybe you should help Harry revive his once I am gone.”

That took Sirius by surprise. “It- wait, it’s not dead?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why don’t you revive it then? We can go over right now.”

“Because I think he deserves that experience… he deserves to feel that- to feel it . I don’t know how to describe it. You know what I mean though, right?” Harry gestured at him. “The- you must have felt it with the Grimmauld’s place, just… a total opposite of that really .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said. “That was an awful one.”

“This one will be wonderful, trust me.” Harry smiled. 

Sirius nodded slowly. “Harry…”

“Uhh, can you…” Harry hesitated. “Can you call me something other than Harry ? Just while I'm still here. I- I'm not that comfortable with- Despite whatever the Healer is saying about us being one part of Harry each, I-”

“I can call you James then?” Sirius shrugged. 

“No, god, no.” Harry shook his head. “I- let’s not open up that can of worms, shall we?”

“I sense a story behind that.”

“You did call me that in my time before… by mistake, I- yea- I thought you meant my dad. It was a whole thing.”

“Wow, shit, that…”

“Yea, no, it’s- I didn’t mind at that time, but…”

“But it’s weird alright,” Sirius acknowledged. “If that’s what I meant with it anyway.”

“…yea.”

“I don't think I've called him James in like... ages anyway. It’s always been Prongs,” Sirius mused. “Why the fuck would I-”

“Yea, that was the weird part.”

“Yea, sorry, I don’t know where that came from then, I assume I was perhaps just…” He made a grimace at that and then shook his head. “Anyway, fine, not James then. Jimbo? Jim? Jay? Jamie?”

Harry snickered. “Yeah… I don’t know about those.”

“Cedric calls you something else, doesn’t he?” Sirius hummed. “Haz… like the hazmat suit?”

Harry snickered. “Do you even know what that is?”

“Hey, I would have you know I had an Outstanding in Muggle Studies!”

“So did I.”

“Har har,” Sirius said, then paused and laughed. “There we go! The nickname wrote itself.”

“Oh my god.” Harry pressed his hand against his forehead. “Can you just go back to hatin-”

“Oh, shut it, Har, you’ll grow to love it.”

“Why are you…?”

“What?”

“... so nice?” Harry wondered, torn between laughing out loud and bursting into tears right there and then. “This is torture,” he admitted sulkily. 

“Because we hugged it out and I am not one to dwell on, well, depends, but also… I had things I had to work through myself, you know? I know that. And for the record I am sorry for how I acted. But Moony helped me get help, he helped me work through it, I'm still working on it, but yea… I realized you are not here to steal Harry away from me. And if what the healer is saying is true, then… you are a part of Harry, Har. And being an asshole to you hurts a part of Harry and I…”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“The facts, preferably,” Sirius reasoned. “That’s how I knew I needed to get out of Grimmauld Place as soon as possible. If I had listened to my heart, I would have stayed. For Regulus… for… for him mostly, but also for the comfort of the routine perhaps. For many other reasons, I'm sure, but the logical thing was to go.” Sirius reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe the logical thing for you would be to stay.”

“Seems like I don’t get a choice in that if what the Healer is saying is right,” Harry muttered. “Sorry, I don’t exactly want to-”

Sirius squeezed his shoulder. “Do you wanna be stuck in that fucking White place instead?”

Harry looked over at him, eyes wide.

“Harry told us about it.”

“Ah… yea, I knew that…”

“I was in Azkaban long enough to know what that kind of isolation does to a person and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” Sirius said. “Or well, I suppose I wouldn’t wish it on Snape for example, not anymore anyway, but I wouldn’t mind Voldie getting that sort of treatment, you know? Or worse.”

“Yea, no…”

“Stay, Har,” Sirius said, gripping his shoulder tighter.

“That’s not what you were saying the last time I was here,” Harry couldn't help but note.

“Yea, well, it might seem like a drastic change to you, since you keep jumping all around, but I had like three months to process this whole thing and change my mind, so…”

“I almost wish you hadn't.” 

“Hey,” Sirius leaned over, pressing his hand against his shoulder so that Harry would face him. “If it’s about the room upstairs, I know we did that one with Harry, if you want your own one with your own stuff or whatever, Har, we can-”

This whole thing was just too fucking much. 

Harry shook his hand off. “I should go,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse around the edges. “The Floo connection? Please?”

Sirius did not argue with him. Thankfully. “Right, let’s get this fire going, eh?”

 

_

 

Harry walked out of the fireplace at the worn-down cottage in the middle of a strawberry field - the field nothing but a dry land with a dusting of snow coating it like the sugar on a treacle tart, making the interior of the cottage even sadder than the last time he saw it.

Cedric’s latest memory pressing up tightly to the forefront of his mind was not helping the general vibe of it either. Quite the opposite actually. It felt utterly dreary to be standing here after he had seen the cottage alive, full of warmth and prosperity.

He flicked his forefinger to point above the fireplace as soon as the last few whiffs of the white flame died out, setting the timer that appeared there to two minutes and then walked to the middle of the room. The floor creaked beneath his shoes, his feet raising up a cloud of dust, the room cold, quiet and desolate.

It wasn’t though, not entirely.

It couldn't have been.

“Mrs. Diggory?” he tried, looking around. “Agatha…?”

The eerie silence around him continued on, uninterrupted, despite his loud enquiry. 

He sighed, pausing next to the dining table on the side of the room. He reached out to touch the rough surface, to slide his fingers over it. Only for it to give him a splinter two seconds in. “Look,” Harry said, lifting his hand to pry the splint out of his finger. “If there were a summoning spell for a ghost I would have already used it, but there isn’t, which… how stupid is that? Muggles have a dozen different ways to summon a ghost. They don’t work, but at least they’ re trying to come up with something, you know?” 

He turned to scan the room. Nothing. 

“I get that you might be hiding from everybody, but I'm not here to- okay, let me try again." He paused, taking a deep breath. “I summon thee,  Agatha Diggory. Show yourself!”

But the room remained empty, empty if he didn’t count himself anyway.

Harry glanced over at the timer. 

“I know you’re still here,” he insisted. “I just know it. Why else would you have wanted to die here? Yes, I know you did, because Cedric gave me a memory of his last birthday here and he did it so clumsily, the sweet man, that there was a stray one connected to it, a stray one that led me to your dying bed and I know what I saw. I know what it's like to die for the ones you love. I know what that resolve feels like, what it looks like and I- I know what’s what that was. A stubborn silent resolve.”

He glanced over at the timer again. The seconds kept ticking by. 

“We have one minute left,” he announced. “I need you to show yourself, Agatha. I am trying to figure out what’s going on with the magic of the ancestral home and to be able to figure it out I need you present for it. Can you please just-? Please… if I am right, I will be able to give you the peace you deserve. I will be able to give your husband Eldrich the peace he deserves too. Your son… your grandson, Cedric, he… Agatha, he- help me help him . Help me set things right for him. I'm sure you… I'm sure you want that too, don’t you? You've seen him around here, haven’t you? You may have been hiding, but you've seen him, you've seen what it does to him, please, can you-”

And then there it was, a flicker in the middle of the living room, the same exact place that she occupied in the last memory he had seen of her, the same exact makeshift bed, barely visible underneath her, the same exact mess of blankets scrunched up on top of her tired body - Agatha in her in her ghost see-through form just as she was before, her hands folded motionlessly over her stomach, her eyes turned stubbornly up to the ceiling.

Harry stepped on closer. “Thank you.” His eyes flickered up to the timer on the fireplace, it was almost on zero now, but before it could hit zero, Harry closed his eyes, throwing his magic out into the space around, saturating the living room with it. The house itself did not react to it of course, it did not try to feed on it, not with Agatha at the reins, but that’s not what he wanted it to do anyway. He just wanted to feel it. Wanted to feel the current of the magic flowing around when the timer hit zero, when the fireplace at the other side of the hill flared up with a white flame.

There was a noticeable shift in the current of the magic around then, the whole mass of it jerked to the left side, the strength of it making Harry, who was still connected to his own magic around, stumble to the left. He steadied himself on the window looking over the hill, his hand leaving an imprint in the dirt and dust coating it. For a long moment everything felt tilted, the magic rushing away as if there was a waterfall at the top of that hill, pulling it all in. And then from one moment to the other, everything went calm again.

Harry exhaled, glancing over at Agatha, at her left side flickering for a few moments longer. “It’s the fireplace on the other side,” he told her. She did not react to it, her hands folded, her eyes staring up. 

And that was when the fireplace in the living room flared up again, this time in the familiar green of a direct connection and Cedric walked through. 

“Really, Haz?” he complained, his eyes turned over to the fancy emerald wizarding robe he was wearing, his hand patting out the ashes that clung to them after his journey through the Floo connection. “I said a nice fun activity, not a-” the words got swallowed by a sudden inhale of air as he looked up. “Wha… N-nannie? Wh-” He stared, his hands frozen over his stomach. “What is going on?”

“She’s still here,” Harry explained. “The house is on lockdown. She has been keeping it on lockdown with her soul. The soul that remained here because she chose to become a ghost.”

Cedric glanced over at him, but his eyes got pulled back to the ghost of his grandma right away, as if he was worried she’d disappear once he stopped staring at her. “If it’s on lockdown, then how are we here? The fireplace would be locked too.”

“Cause she is not a living human. I imagine it’s harder to keep it on actual lockdown, things keep slipping through, but that’s not why she’s keeping it on lockdown, is it?” He raised his voice, giving her a chance to respond. She remained silent though. “Keeping it on lockdown means no other heir can take over because she… she is still the heir.”

Cedric walked in closer, staring down at her with wide eyes. “Why would you… why would she…?

"Becuase she doesn't want any of you sucked dry the way she was. She doesn’t want your dad to die the same as she did and she doesn't want you to die like that either.”

“But-”

“But she won’t be able to hold this for long enough, the lockdown will decay as she runs out of soul energy, as her ghost… look, can you see the fraying already?” Harry pointed to the left side of her, the fluorescent shine of her left arm dull, her left leg so see through in places that you could almost overlook it entirely if the shape of the blanket didn’t outline it. 

Cedric stopped at her side, leaning in to touch the hand folded over her stomach. He hesitated for a few seconds just before he could touch her though, his teeth digging into his lower lip, but when she didn’t react he put his hand on hers. His hand immediately sank through her mass.

“Did she talk to you?” Cedric wondered, his eyes glued to her passive face.

“No,” Harry admitted. “But I am not entirely sure if she could talk to us. She had been trying to keep the house in check for so long, her soul might be-”

“But she did show herself to you,” Cedric noted. He let go of her, straightening back up. “What did you tell her?”

“That I figured out what was wrong with the house.”

“And did you?”

“Yes, I just need-” And just then the fireplace flared up again, the green of the direct connection painting Cedric’s skin an even sicker shade than it had become at the sight of his grandma. And out of it came an envelope, soaring through the air over to Harry like an angelic sort of howler. 

Harry grabbed it out of the air, opening it up to sort through the documents inside.

“What is that?” Cedric asked, not moving from where he was standing next to his grandma, unable to move away from her side.

“I asked Remus to go to NRAH for me,” Harry explained, reading through. “Isn’t it funny how it doesn’t have a fun acronym like everything else in this goddamn-”

“Haz, please.”

“Sorry. Remember that fireplace we went through during that timed connection? The one lying in ruins at the other side of the hill?

“Yes?”

“What's... do you know how it got there?”

“I don't know, it's always been there.”

“Why is it still connected to the Floo network? Why is it still connected to magic?”

“You don't think…?”

Harry shook out one of the documents, walking over to Cedric to offer it to him. “It’s a remnant of an ancestral home left behind a long time ago, with no owner, no one to keep it stable, no one to- no one to stop it from sucking the magic all around it.”

Cedric stared down at the document, the picture of a high stone building staring back at him from the midst of words. 

Harry shuffled through the rest of the documents, sliding one of them on top of the picture. “It seems the blood ancestor was still alive somewhere in Spain, keeping it in check just with her existence, but she apparently died just after your grandma took over the cottage and it… went wild.”

“Wouldn’t they have found out a long time ago if this were the case?” Cedric looked up at him in disbelief. “If they had records of this then surely…”

“Nah, that's why they didn’t find out what was wrong with mine either. The standard procedure involves testing the levels of inert magic around and obviously there was enough of that around, enough to sustain one house for sure, since it was sustaining the house at the other side of the hill,” Harry explained. “They assumed the issue must have been in the house itself. Surely if there is all this inert magic around and the house wasn’t taking in any of it but instead sucking the heir dry, it must have been a connectivity issue. It wasn't though. It was just that the house didn’t get any of the magic because the other one kept stealing it from it.”

“So… so, all we have to do is destroy it?”

“Well, I can help you temporarily disable it right now, so that we can try to revive your house and…” he looked over at Agatha. “Take the burden of your gran. You will, of course still need to contact the NRAH to-”

Cedric grabbed his biceps. “Let’s go then. Let’s go disable that fucking thing right now.” He threw one last look at his grandma’s motionless ghost, nodding her way before ushering Harry out of the living room through the big glass door leading to the strawberry field.

They ran up the hill, kicking the leaves in their way, spraying the dusting of snow all around them, the speed of their motion keeping their bodies warm enough for the cold weather, the hope doing the same for their hearts.

The summit of the hill wasn’t that high, but the dusting of the snow was denser there than down below still, the snow creating a layer of sugary coating that crunched underneath their shoes.

They ran over to the lone fireplace standing in the middle of the hill, Cedric keeping him steady as Harry’s sneakers slid over the snow one too many times.

“How are we going to…?” Cedric wheezed once they were close enough. “Do we just…”

“The floorplan said the fireplace was in the direct epicenter of the building,” Harry said, looking around. “The fireplace and then a circle all around it approximately twenty meters away from it. Somewhere around here then.” He kicked his foot forward, marking the spot. 

“How are we going to get rid of so much- ah, we aren’t going to, are we?”

Harry grinned over at him. “Nope,” he said. “Wanna help me void the shit out of the fireplace and then blast it apart in a measured explosion to cover the whole expanse of the circle?” He offered his hand to Cedric. “If we combine our magic, it should make the void strong enough to give you enough time to-

Cedric smiled at that, reaching out to grab his hand. “Oh, Haz, I thought you’d never ask.”

They didn’t need to turn to look at the fireplace, didn’t need to raise their wands or their combined hands, didn’t need to utter a single incantation. Staring right into each other’s eyes, they channeled their magic out into the open, coaxing it to ram into the fireplace at full force, to seep deep into each and every one of the stones, the speckles of grout in-between, to saturate it with a potent Void spell and then with a tiny twitch to their lips, the fireplace exploded into a perfect circle, the pieces of it creating an even layer of void on top of the foundation of the rogue ancestral home.

“Think that worked?” Cedric wondered, turning to look at the mix of dust and stones covering the space at their side.

“Only one way to find out.”

Cedric pulled on his hand. “Side-along you back?” he offered.

“Go-” Harry started to say, but he didn’t even get to finish his sentence, Cedric already twisting on his heel, his hand gripping him tighter as he pulled them along through the space. Harry hung onto his hand, letting himself be whisked away over to the cottage, both of them appearing near the dining table just a moment later, just in time for Harry to finish his sentence: “-for it.”

Cedric’s eyes went immediately to the ghost of his grandma who was still lying there, static like a stone statue. He exhaled harshly at the sight of her, looking over at Harry. “Did it work? She’s not-” He looked up at the ceiling. “The house is not… it’s still the same.”

“It’s still on lockdown, remember?” Harry reminded him, pulling him over to Agatha. “She needs to lift it. The heir needs to lift the lockdown of their own free will otherwise-”

“She’s not going to do that…” Cedric said, panicky. “She’s-”

“Rickie,” Harry interrupted him, squeezing his hand. “Ask her to do it.”

“What?”

“Just ask her to-”

“She’s not going to listen to me , Haz.” Cedric laughed, the sound of it nearly hysterical. “She didn’t listen to gramps when he begged her to react.” He shook his head, taking a step back. “Didn’t listen to dad when he yelled at her.” He shook off his hand, folding it over his stomach. “Didn’t listen to me when I pleaded while she was still alive. She- what makes you think she will listen now? What makes you think she will-”

“Rickie…”

“And what if she does it and it won’t work, what then? What if we didn’t really solve it? What if she lifts the lockdown and-”

“Rickie, the pureblood houses, what's the closest one to this one?

Cedric blinked over at him. “Uh, Greengrass.”

“Still on lockdown, isn't it?

“Yes, but what-?”

“What’s the next one after that?

“Bulstrode.”

“Lockdown too.”

“What does that have to do with-?”

“Next one?

“Haz, I get it, they’re all on-”

“They’re all on lockdown,” Harry confirmed. “None of them are connected to any of the inert magic around. Neither is the rogue one on the other side of the hill now. There will be so much of it left for this place, so much you won’t even have to do a thing.”

“I don’t want it to take it all, the houses will need it once-”

“It has been… what? Not even a year on the national lockdown yet? They won’t break the lockdowns this soon, not until they’re two years in at the very least. That’s when you start to feel the effect properly. All this magic around, it's free for you to take, it’s free for your ancestral house to take. Come on.”

“But…”

“And if not, then just let it take some and feed it some of yours and for the rest... “ He offered his hand. “...use mine.”

Cedric looked at his hand, his face scrunching up. “That’s all fine and dandy but unless Nannie lifts the lockdown, we-”

“You won’t know until you ask her.”

“Ask her?” A sound escaped Cedric then, a sound that was somewhere between a bitter laugh and a desperate sob. “She won’t listen to me, don’t you get it? I’m nothing! I’m a failure! I’ve been begging for an answer for years. Years! I stood there, right there!” He pointed to the middle of the living room where his grandma lay stubbornly. “I stood there and she didn’t even- she never- you ask her, Haz. She showed herself to you, not to me, you… you are the one worthy of her attention, not me, that much is obvious.”

Harry let his hand fall back to his side. “She didn’t…”

Cedric shook his head, lifting his hand to run his palm over his nose, over his eyes. “Just do it… please. Help her. Help her, Haz. ”

“Rickie…” Harry reached over, taking his cheeks into his hands. Cedric averted his eyes, but let him hold him. “Rickie, it has to be you.”

“I can’t.” Cedric sobbed.

“You can,” Harry argued. “You did so many awesome things over the years, don’t you see it? Saved so many people, saved… saved me.”

“Haz-”

“Add your gran to the list. Add her in if it helps. Write her name in with big bold letters on top of the fucking list and then… then do what you did for all the other people on that list,” Harry said. “Free her from her horrid fate.”

Cedric looked over at him, his eyes sliding over his face to glance down at the unmoving ghost floating mid-air in the middle of the living room. Agatha didn’t seem to have reacted to any of their conversation, nothing of it moved her and that made Cedric hesitate still. Harry squished his cheeks, then let go of him and stepped away. “Show her,” he said. “Show her the way you showed me.”

“Show her?” Cedric echoed wearily as he stared down at Agatha, at the rigid, unyielding gaze turned towards the ceiling, turned towards the house she used all of her focus to keep in check, to keep reigned in, to keep it from hurting anyone else for as long as she could.

Cedric’s eyes went up to the ceiling too, up to the husk of the house, to the-

“Show her,” he repeated incredulously and then lifted his hands, cupping them together in front of himself. Easily, as if he was just dipping a chalice into a deep well, he gathered his magic inside his palms, producing a tiny ball of light, feathers bursting all over its surface, wings springing out of it, flaring up in a rush of magic - the sparrow did not hesitate, immediately taking flight to free the space in Cedric’s palms for another one.

And another one.

And another -

Harry reached over to press his hand against his shoulder, urging his own magic in through to help him create more of them, the tiny balls of light bubbling up in his palms, their wings fluttering impatiently just to take flight mere moments later.

One by one, the glittering sparrows flew up into the ceiling, the tips of their wings brushing the dust of the surfaces, the light of them chasing away the darkest shadows in all the nooks and crannies, their song filling the silent emptiness of it - and while all of that was just like a coat of a sparkly paint on top of a moldy piece of furniture full of termites, the sight of it was at the same time something more still, something like a wish, like a promise, like a-

A vow.

“You can let go now, Nannie,” Cedric spoke up, looking over at his grandma, at the sparkle of the sparrows ahead glistening deep within her eyes, at the shine of them throwing flares of light all over her ghostly body. “Let go, it’s okay… I will make sure it doesn’t hurt anyone anymore.”

That was when Agatha exhaled a tired breath, the sound of it hearable even through the sparrow’s song filtering in through the branches in the ceiling. Cedric gasped out at the sight of her eyes finally falling closed, the hands clasped over the stomach falling off to the sides of her body, her posture relaxing as she melted into the mattress underneath her, literally melting away into it, disappearing into the floor, disappearing from the room.

“Oh.” Cedric turned to look at Harry. “Is that…? Is-”

And then the house around them inhaled, caving in like cheeks of a child that was trying to eagerly suck in a milkshake through an all too thin straw - the floorboards curling up around the edges, the walls bending forward, the windows and their shutters opening up inwards despite that not being in their design. The ceiling rushed down to meet them, the branches uncurling, their jagged edges heading for them.

The sparrows flew over to them, set on protecting them, their tiny bodies dissolving into pure shimmering magic that the house sucked in before it could even reach them. It paused in its contraction then, shuddering as the inert magic from all around finally rushed in, filling it up to the brim, making the house expand like a hot-air balloon.

Harry gripped Cedric’s shoulder, making sure they both remain upright as the house around them unfurled, the ceiling- oh, the ceiling was saturated with sunshine, golden, warm and rejuvenating like mead, the fresh coat of it clinging to the wood like sap, melting away the calcified shells holding the sparrows in place, their tiny bodies shivering, their wings fluttering. The branches turned up into it, tiny budding leaves sprouting all over their surface, bursting open into full fledged leaves in a flare of magic, the remaining light turning into a sparkle of fireflies that flitted to and fro excitedly. 

Cedric shivered when the ceiling filled up with the symphony he knew from his childhood, the symphony that was imbedded deep inside of Harry now as well - the gentle creak of the branches, the rustle of the leaves, the flutter of sparrow’s wings, the nostalgic melody of their faraway song.

“We-” Cedric started, a smile- 

He stopped in his tracks as a stray ray of sunshine shining down in the middle of the living room caught both of their eyes.

Agatha was standing there bathing in the light of the ceiling, looking like she looked in one of the happy memories Cedric shared with him, full of strength, of love, of-

“Rickie,” she whispered, reaching out her arms to him.

Cedric surged forward, enveloping her in a hug - a hug that was very measured because she was indeed still a ghost, still very much without any actual substance he could realistically hug, but it didn’t seem to matter. 

“Nan,” he sobbed into her shoulder, holding her so close his face was sinking into her translucent body. “Nannie, I-”

“Hush now, my child,” she hummed, putting her arms around him. And although she was just a ghost it was as if Cedric could feel it, shuddering at the contact, weeping harder.

“You did so well, Rickie,” she soothed. “So fucking well.”

Cedric laughed wetly into her shoulder. 

“Now, enough of that, my dear,” she whispered, coaxing him off of her to hold his cheeks. “Let me get a proper look at you.”

Cedric just smiled at her, all teary-eyed and snotty. 

She took him in, her smile growing wider at the sight and then, unexpectedly, turned her attention over at Harry standing behind him. “Let me take a good look at your friend over there too,” she said, beckoning him in with her hand.

Cedric reached back as if she was commanding his limbs, gripping the material of his grey coat and pulled him into their tiny circle of light. 

“Ah, would you look at that,” she mused, lifting her free hand to press it up against Harry’s cheek. Despite it being cold, it warmed up his heart. “Just as stubborn, this one.”

Harry snorted.

“Why don’t you use some of that stubbornness to cling to life with a bit more fervor, my dear?” She asked. “It would do you good.”

“I've lived long enough,” Harry said.

She gave him a disbelieving look. “No, my dear, you haven’t. You haven’t until you are truly able to move on,” She let go of them then, taking a step back. “The way I am.”

“Nannie, wait!” Cedric exclaimed, reaching out for her.

She cradled his hand in hers. “I relinquish the heirdom of this ancestral home over to you, my dear grandchild.”

“Wait… can’t you wait for dad, for gramps? They have a right to-”

“It was always meant for you, Rickie. My brave, caring boy.” She patted his hand and then let go of it. “Besides, they said their goodbyes a long time ago,” she said. “It’s time for you to do that as well.”

Cedric sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes again. He opened his mouth, no sound coming up, the words gulped down loudly.

Harry reached out for his hand, squeezing it. “Cheerio, Agatha,” he said to her. 

Agatha laughed at that and then turned over to Cedric with an expectant look on her face. “Say bye to your Nannie, Rickie,” she whispered the way she did a dozen times back when Amos was taking Cedric back home after the summer. “Wave goodbye to her, won’t you?”

“Bye bye, Nannie,” Cedric parroted wetly, his hand doing a sad aborted sort of wave in her direction. He sobbed as she disappeared into thin air with a fond smile on her lips, the beam of light enveloping them all disappearing together with her.

The house shuddered, the magic of it relinquished of its connection to Agatha. 

“Brace yourself,” Harry warned him.

“Huh?” was all Cedric could say before the ancestral home reached out, the rush of magic bubbling up from the floor below to burst upward towards them in a massive wave, the roar of it deafening as it spoke in a thousand memories stored in it, the countless Digorries speaking one over another in each of them, their voices rising up in a cacophony all around him. Ancestors that got to live up to an old wizarding age, babbling children that died as babies, middle aged men that died during wizarding wars, their voices faraway… wanting, craving the life that was taken from then, taken before their time was ripe - those were the ones that felt the loudest to Harry, the ones that made his bones shake in his body, that made his teeth grit together painfully.

Cedric must have heard something Harry didn’t, because he looked up, his voice piercing through the ocean of voices, bright and determined. “I'm ready,” he said and from one moment to another, it all went silent again.

Harry exhaled loudly, pressing his hand against his wild breathing heart, still shaken from the experience. 

Cedric seemed okay though. He stood there with wonder in his wide eyes, staring up at the bright ceiling full of life. He lifted his hand, waving it around in a small arch and the ceiling responded, expanding into a cupola, the branches curling up into a wreath, the sparrows nestling down into it to watch them from up above calmly.

“That’s a Patronus memory right there,” Harry croaked, watching him fondly.

Cedric laughed, the glint of the tears falling from his chin as he turned over to him catching Harry's eye. “I thought we agreed it's not the memories that make the Patronus, Haz.”

“No, it’s not,” Harry said, feeling calmed now. “The sentiment remains though.”

“Do you want it? For the White Place?” Cedric offered, running his sleeve over his face to get rid of the tears that kept gathering in his eyes. “I think you have seen all the memories already unless there were any more stray ones.”

“Probably not, stray ones are connected to actual memories, there is no way for a random one to be pulled along,”

“Do you want it then? This or some other…?”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said, running his hand over Cedric’s biceps. “I think I can return to the ones I've seen if need-... you alright?”

“Yeah,” Cedric said, his face red from all the crying, his voice hoarse still.

Harry could feel the hook prodding at his navel, ready to whisk him away. “Shit, I-”

“Gotta go?”

“Let me just…” He reached out with his other hand too, touching his shoulder.  “Want a hug?”

“Yeah,” Cedric said, folding forward to press his face against his shoulder, to pull him in close by his waist. Harry cradled his head close. 

“You know,” Cedric muttered. “When you called me over I didn’t expect for it to-”

“What? Are you saying you didn’t enjoy our date?” Harry hummed, running his fingers through his hair. ”Wasn’t it extravagant enough? Should I shoot for the moon next time?”

Cedric giggled. “Haz…”

“You know, I never actually tried to go to space with magic, but if that’s what you’d want, I am sure it can be arranged.”

“Oh my god,” He pulled himself off Harry to look at him. “You’re the worst, you know? The bar was never that high… this high ,” He jerked his head to encompass the house around them, to encompass himself with that statement. “High as in saving lives high,” he added in just in case it wasn’t clear enough. 

“To be fair I was going to just get food, I haven’t actually eating anything in like forever and I've been craving a lavish breakfast spread ever since I saw that last memory of yours, but things sorta escalated on their own,” Harry admitted, his arms still around Cedric, his fingers pressed to the nape of his neck, poking the skin there gently. “Maybe… next time?”

“Next time?” Cedric wondered, pulling him in closer again. “Is there going to be a next time?”

“I…”

“Haz.”

“I'm afraid this whole living thing is becoming rather addictive,” Harry admitted slowly. “Besides if the Healer is to believe…”

When Cedric smiled then, Harry was sure he was going to start crying soon too, but the hook in his navel was getting rather annoying and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight against it for that much longer and so with the amount of energy he did have left he opened his mouth and said: “Healer Strout, Harry James Potter - future edition here, let this memory I am leaving behind in Cedric’s care be a permission enough for you to do your thing. I'm in.”

Cedric’s answering giddy laugh followed him out of the present time as the hook in his navel tore him out even long after he was gone.