Chapter Text
“Oh Harry, you are too good to me.” Andromeda Tonks told Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding World, Godfather to her grandson and all around good guy. The daylight was just beginning to fade. Orange light from the beautiful sunset glinted off nearby windows. Grimmuald Place was quiet, most of its residents were older and retired inside earlier than the children ever had on similarly beautiful summer days when he was young. The quiet of the street was serene compared to the eerie silence of house number 12 behind him. Harry laughed at her.
“Andy, I only took him for a few hours. You’re the one doing all the hard work. Besides it’s always nice to see you, and I like spending time with Teddy. I wish I could do better for him—be better for him.” Harry told her, tickling the toddler in her arms. She gave him and exasperated but fond smile.
“You never had the best role models to follow, but you do fabulously with him. I just wish better for you. It isn’t healthy—being alone in this dreary old house.” He kissed her cheek and waved good bye to his godson as she spun on the ball of her foot and disapparated.
With a sigh he closed the front door and headed upstairs. He passed where Walburga Black’s painting had hung. When all else had failed he had decided to remove the wall altogether, building an open archway which opened the hall into the sitting room that had been on the other side. He was in the process of peeling off the wallpaper which had lighter silhouettes from the House Elf heads that had hung there. Slowly he was reclaiming the house from its dark past.
He headed to the smallest bedroom which he had converted into an office. It was where he kept all of the notes on his latest project. The dark mahogany desk was almost completely cluttered up with papers and books outlining temporal paradoxes, time travel, and both muggle and magical theories on time-based mechanics. Balanced precariously on a comprehensive tome about time was the first Time-Turner created since the attack on the Department of Mysteries five years previous.
Sitting on top of several hastily scrawled notes sat a translucent golden yellow box. It was made of a delicate glass melted from sand that came from a room that had been sealed for several millennia. In between the two planes of glass that formed the outer and interior sides of the box was a goodly amount of the potion that crystalized into the “sand” of a Time-Turner. This was what Harry had been working towards for the last three years. Or, at least, it was the vehicle needed to reach his goal.
When looking out at the devastation left over from the final battle Harry had wished that he could somehow reach back into the past and forewarn them. He’d do nearly anything to try and save some of the lives lost. The project had started one day during Hogwarts’ reconstruction. He’d been assigned the task of sorting through the library’s surviving books. Out of boredom he’d idly flipped through a book on the ethics of time travel. A few key passages had inspired hope in him and soon he found that picking up and reading treatises on time was a hobby. After a while of watching Andromeda Tonks struggle to keep up with Teddy and seeing all of those who hadn’t healed from their losses in the war it became more than that. Finally though Harry thought he may have found a way to do it. He had no interest in going back in time himself, which was good because he’d calculated what it’d take to do such a thing and the list included an insanely ridiculous amount of energy. Much less impossible was sending a simple letter a decade back.
“I would have thought your little foray into the time stream in your third year would have satiated any desire you had to meddle with the fourth dimension.” A deep and gravelly voice commented, Harry could feel it vibrate in his feet, though that could have been from the power of the speaker. He was taken aback when he had whipped around in the swivel chair seated at the desk. He’d been carefully composing the letter he intended to send back in time, and was thoroughly distracted by the sight before him. Sitting in a previously unoccupied armchair was Remus Lupin, or what Remus Lupin used to be, or what might simply be something posing as Remus Lupin. He was wearing a pitch dark suit that was well fitted but seemed to fray at the edges into little ebony wisps. Harry found himself completely discombobulated.
“You’re not Remus.” He blurted. Dumbly he attempted to close his mouth and gather his wits. The figure-that-wasn’t-Remus laughed. It was an eerie sound that wasn’t really a laugh. A razor sharp grin that had never belonged on the mild Remus’ face appeared.
“Of course not, I am unable to appear in my own form before those not yet fated to die.”
Harry blinked, “So you’re, what, Death?”
“Yes, Young Master”
Harry sat back and contemplated the figure before him. Mirroring him Death also leant back, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands over his knee. A moment or two passed before the ethereal being began to speak again. “When we first met you expected someone with answers so I took the form of him who you expected them from, Albus Dumbledore.” He gave his master a moment to allow this to sink in before continuing. “Now you want someone who is reasonable and intelligent. “He gestured to his current form.
“You were the one to talk to me at King’s Cross? Why speak to me now?” Harry asked leaning forward, eager for answers.
“It was Limbo, actually. It appears differently to each individual.” Death answered.
“And?” Harry asked. Death shrugged.
“I’m still amazed that it presented itself as somewhere as open ended as King’s Cross Station. It isn’t usually so specific a place either. I had only asked out of curiosity of what my Master might see. Usually a soul only sees one, maybe two, choices before them. But you—“Death’s eyes glowed with an eagerness, a hunger, a hatred “—you saw yourself with more options than you could be bothered to count, a multitude of destinations. It was enlightening, and baffling.”
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here though.” Harry reminded him. “Now I’m curious to know what you see.” Remus’ hair swished as Death shook his head.
“I cannot enter Limbo or the afterlife without a soul. I only ever see what my target imagines. As for why I’m here, it is to offer my assistance.” He held his palms out to either side in a faux gesture of sincerity and innocence. “I am omnipotent. I exist in no singular moment or place. Traveling back ten years is as easy as taking a step to the side.” He smiled again, but it was still too predatory for Harry to be comfortable seeing it on Remus’ face. “You desire to cross time. I can enable that; without any consequences from your risible Ministry of Magic.”
Harry eyed the figure in front of him. He had a feeling that Death had chosen its form for more than Remus’ intelligence. Snape’s form would have worked just as well, except Snape never have Harry’s trust like Remus had. He knew he could trust Remus. The being wearing his mentor’s face, he could not. Harry wished he had a better grasp of Death’s personality. Could he put his faith in the entity’s word? Would he/she/it lie to him? Or was it the type of being that relied on slated interpretations to come out on top? After several minutes of contemplation Harry decided to accept Death’s offer. He carefully considered the wording of his request to avoid any loopholes Death might want to exploit.
“My desire is to forewarn the past, thus forearming them and ideally saving lives. Is that an issue for you?” Harry asked. Death just shrugged, so Harry continued. “I have written a letter-” he turned back to the desk to scrawl out the valediction and his signature before sealing the envelope. “I want you to deliver it to Albus Dumbledore in November 1981, please.” Death accepted the letter without comment and tucked it away into the inner breast pocket of his jacket.
“I can do that.” He answered casually.
“Good, but will you?” Harry asked. Death smiled another sharp grin, two neat rows of pearly and pointed teeth showing.
“Yes” Death hissed, his form dissolving.
“Thank you.” Harry said sincerely before the smoky wisps had fully dissipated. With his unexpected guest gone, the savior turned back to the desk and began to tidy it up. He filed his notes away, tucked the books into the bookshelf, and carefully stored the Time-Turner and his experiment in a locked drawer. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He quietly spent the rest of his evening working on stripping the wall paper in the second floor landing and went to bed feeling satisfied.
His awakening was considerably more distressing. He felt something constricting his chest and limbs. His face was smothered ad everything was dark. There was a rapid thumping coming from all around him. The bands around him tightened at his head before giving and tightening on his chest and giving. There was the sensation of sliding before it began again. Heart racing his mind scrambled to understand what was happening to him when suddenly the world was too bright and cold. He was wet, which he’d failed to notice before, and he felt exposed. He could hear people talking as he tried to open his eyes and breathe around the gunk in his throat. Something was forced into his mouth and suddenly sweet oxygen flooded his burning lungs. He gave a great lusty wail.
There were sounds of joy as he was bundled up in a blanket that seemed several sizes too large. It constantly felt as if he was falling up and being turned over until finally he was laid to rest cradled against something warm and soft. It gently gave way before pushing out again in a steady, soothing rhythm. Breathing. The thumping from before had calmed and he now recognized it as a heartbeat. He was so exhausted, and everything smelled familiar and comforting.
“Merlin Lils, they’re beautiful. I can’t believe we’re parents, let alone to twins!” A voice rumbled.
“We’ll name the first Harry James like we planned, but what of our second son?” The voice was soft and tired. He could feel her words vibrating in her chest. Vibrated in the chest he rested on. His mother’s chest, he realized. He had just been born, again, to the same parents. He probably couldn’t kill Death, but maybe he could rearrange his face?
“Arrdyn. When I read As You Like It I thought it would make a lovely boys name.” Someone made to protest but she reminded him that he’d picked Harry.
“What about his middle name?” The other voice, his father, asked chuckling. His mother hummed and Harry—now Arrdyn—felt himself nodding off.
“Evan maybe? After my maiden name?”
“Hmm…”A new voice started. “Harry James Potter and Arrdyn Evan Potter, not too bad Jamsie. They’re almost as handsome as me.”
“Sirius…” Yet another voice began. The rest of the conversation was lost to Arrdyn as his exhaustion overcame him.
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“Lily!” Someone cried, pounding on the front door. Arrdyn roused from where he slept resting against his mother’s chest. Lily got up from the couch. Harry was a quiet baby who fell asleep easily and played happily. Arrdyn was equally quiet but he was too curious making him resistant to sleep. Often after laying Harry down they would sway and walk around with Arrdyn to lull him to sleep.
“Go away Severus!” She told the door, standing with her son in the foyer. “I won’t forgive you. You called me a mudblood and joined him!” There was a sob on the other side of the door.
“I don’t care if you don’t forgive me! But please, please listen right now. I regret that day with every breath but this isn’t about us. It’s about your sons. Please.” Severus Snape begged. Lily was silent for a moment. She looked down at Arrdyn; his soulful green eyes stared back.
“Fine, I won’t open the door. I can’t even look at your face anymore, but I’ll listen.” Snape made a keening noise but after a moment he began.
“Earlier this summer I overheard part of a prophesy. It said that the one to defeat the Dark Lord would be born at the end of July. You weren’t due until August so I thought nothing of reporting it to him. He thinks it’s one of the twins. He’s making plans on when it’d be best to kill all of you.” They heard him sob again but he continued. “There’s a spy in the Order of the Phoenix. I think it’s someone from our year. Please Lily, I’ll do anything, just please hide yourselves away and trust no one with the knowledge of where.”
“And what of Frank and Alice? Their son Neville—” she demanded.
“Bellatrix Lestrange. She’s barren—Thank God—but it was caused by Frank Longbottom’s spell. She said they’re hers to punish. The Dark Lord thinks that your family poses a bigger threat, especially since identical twins tend to be very powerful.” He answered.
“I’ll trust you Severus, but only on two conditions.” She told him, shifting Arrdyn’s weight from one side to the other and gently swaying the infant.
“Anything”
“I want you to go to Dumbledore—change sides.” He choked.
“That’s a death sentence!” He cried and it was a moment before he could speak again.
“I’ll do it.” He said finally, sounding defeated. Lily said nothing.
“You’re the cleverest person I know Severus. I know you can do it, and survive.” She told him softly. He whispered that he was undeserving of such faith. “For my second condition,” She continued, as if she hadn’t reassured him. “I want you to swear to me that you will protect my sons. Protect them as if they were me.”
“I swear to protect them even at the cost of my own life.” Lily sighed with relief, thanking him. Mother and child heard the pop of his disapparation. When Lily turned around it was to find her husband standing in the living room doorway. He had a still sleepy Harry in his arms and was clad in his red Auror robes.
“You-Know-Who is—” she began.
“Lily, don’t you think it’s time you forgave him? He’s done nothing to—”
“He became a Death Eater! You don’t get to lecture me on childhood grudges, James! You and Sirius still call him Snivellus!” She shouted, high-strung from stress. James held up one hand and gestured for her to calm down.
“I haven’t called him that since seventh year, and Arrdyn is more mature than Sirius. He was your best friend and you’ve been holding a grudge for nearly six years over something said in anger and embarrassment. He apologized a few hours later!” James admonished. “He wouldn’t have turned to Lucius Malfoy and You-Know-Who if you had forgiven him and continued to be his friend.” Lily turned away in shame.
“I can’t forgive him yet because I can’t forget how it felt to have just been defending him and justifying my friendship with him and worrying if he was okay only for him to throw it all back in my face and call me a…a…mudblood. It hurt and every time I see him it hurts again! I’ve never been good with letting go of grudges to begin with.”
“Lily, you can’t—“
“Forget it James. We need to Floo Dumbledore, There’s a prophesy about the boys.” She said before stalking past him to the fireplace in their living room.
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“Come on Pup! Say Padfoot. Pa~dfoooot. I’ll settle for Pa’ foo if it’s easier. Please?” Sirius begged a drooling Harry. Harry gave him a gap toothed smile and slobbered all over the new stuffed dog his godfather had given him. Arrdyn watched his brother and younger self, using him as a measuring stick for development. They had both said another new word the other day and Sirius was determined to be their next. Arrdyn clutched his new stuffed wolf. He’d been given plenty of new toys since being ‘born’ but he couldn’t get over the elation of receiving one. He allowed himself a giggle at Sirius’ antics and shrieked with surprised happiness when Remus unexpectedly scooped him up off the blanket and blew a raspberry on his stomach.
“Give it up Padfoot, Moony will be their next word won’t it my serious little cub?” He playfully gave Arrdyn an Eskimo Kiss, rubbing their noses together. After a moment of debate Arrdyn went for it.
“Moooney!” He cried giggling
“Mooey!” Harry echoed also laughing.
“Moony!” Arrdyn repeated.
“Moony!” His brother agreed. Both the twins and Remus laughed uproariously as Sirius pulled at his hair in exaggerated frustration before suddenly turning on Harry and tickling him mercilessly.
“I’ll get you for that you little miscreant!” Suddenly there was the bang of a kitchen cabinet slamming closed and James’ voice could be heard from the kitchen.
“Lily! We are not changing Secret Keepers! Sirius won’t betray us! Please, just calm down. Let’s have a nice little birthday diner for the boys.” They could hear Lily saying something back but she was too quiet to hear. Remus turned to Sirius, concerned.
“The Fidelus Charm?” He asked, bouncing his godson. Arrdyn pretended to be distracted by this while he listened closely for the conversation in the other room. Sirius refused to look up at the werewolf.
“Snivellus told her that there was a spy in the order and that it was someone from our year at Hogwarts so she wants them to move to the Peverell Castle with Mad-eye or Arthur Weasley as Secret Keeper. We’re still trying to get it set up. It probably won’t be cast until closer to Halloween. You know you’re her favorite of us Moony.” Remus sighed and sat down next to his friend.
“I’m not the spy, but I’m glad I wasn’t asked to be made secret keeper. I’m most likely to run into You-Know-Who and be legillimized.”
Sirius shuddered and lifted Harry up over his head.
“Ugh, imagining him in my head. Icky Icky!” He told the toddler. Harry and Arrdyn laughed.
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"Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off –“James called up the stairs to her. She practically threw aside their copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard and started searching through their dresser. A flick of her wrist quietly snaps the door closed, cutting off the sounds of ricocheting spellfire and James and Voldemort’s duel. She pulls out a thick tome and a silver ritual knife. Lily slices one wrist open and rubs the welling blood along inside of their crib, over the runes already carved there. They shared one because Harry had become fussy over recent weeks and refused to sleep parted from his brother. She flipped through the tome leaving blood smeared on its pages.
“Ancestors I beseech—no wait.” She flipped a few more pages and began again. “On this Samhain I beseech thee, Spirits who guard our family, souls wronged by the Evil who Flies from Death, protect and save my sons.” She whispered over Harry, marking a lightening shaped rune on his forehead in her blood. They heard the thud of James body near the top of the stairs and Lily choked on her tears and repeated the plea over Arrdyn, marking his forehead as well. She had just finished a Celtic incantation out of the tome when Voldemort blasted their nursery door open. Voldemort laughed his high pitched cackle. She turned to face him. He had an armored chest plate in his left hand. The golden lion crest gave away it’s once owner. Voldemort smiled at her amused when she raised her wand.
“Not my boys! Please! Not my baby boys!” She cried, frightened but unable to abandon her children.
“Stand aside you silly girl. Severus has begged so prettily for your life and I will spare it if you stand aside now.” The evil man told her, entering the room and stepping so that he was had an unobstructed view of the occupied crib. A low thrum of magic started. Whispers faded in and out as figures formed from the shadows cast by the moon, her reading lamp, and the harsh florescent light from the hallway.
“A decision,” they said. “Your life or your sons?” they asked. Lily made a small step so that she shielded the crib and its contents with her body. The runes lit up like embers stoked.
“Not my boys, please no! Take me! Kill me instead—” she pleaded with him. Voldemort frowned at her before snorting in disgust. The shadows began to writhe and unfurl into even more forms until the walls of their nursery were crowded with people’s shadows. The adults didn’t react and Arrdyn suspected they couldn’t see them. Dizzy from blood loss Lily stumbled back, dropping the ritual knife within the confines of their crib. Voldemort narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
“It doesn’t matter what you’ve done to protect them it won’t work.” He told her. “You aren’t the first mother who has tried.” He set the chest plate down and Lily eyed it warily but he didn’t explain its purpose, just smiled nastily at her. The two adults stared at each other a bit. Arrdyn, however, was distracted by a form sliding, smooth as silk, into the room and over to their crib.
‘A Lethifold*?’ Arrdyn wondered, ‘On tonight of all nights?’ the hum of magic was nearly deafening now. His head pulsed with it and the room resonated with it. He could hear the windows rattle slightly with power. Voldemort raised his wand and Lily began to beg him.
“Not my sons! Please! Have mercy… have mercy…” Her voice was weak. Drained from blood loss and the magic she’d expended to protect her sons. Voldemort just laughs at her and with a casual flick of his wand and a deadpan “Avada Kedavra” their mother slumps over, dead. Arrdyn cried out at her death and Harry, who had been quiet all night, began to cry with his brother. Voldemort eyed the two sobbing toddlers with distaste. The forms on the walls were still. The Dark lord raised his wand again, pointing it at Harry. Arrdyn quickly pulls his brother into a hug trying to shield him with his own body as much as possible.
“Oldest first I think.” He murmurs to himself before casting the Killing Curse once again. The shadows descend on Voldemort as their father’s invisibility cloak flings itself over the twins just in time. But even Death’s cloak can’t completely stop the killing curse and a weak beam hits Harry where their mother had marked a symbol for power. Harry screamed. Fighting the wraiths that tore at him Voldemort waded over to the crib and scrabbled for their fragile throats. Soon though the angry spirits win and the dark lord collapses into ashes and smoke. Harry collapsed as well and a shaky Arrdyn tries to jostle him awake, chubby fingers searching for a pulse.
“He’s still alive. Your presence hasn’t altered anything important yet.” Cedric’s voice washes over Arrdyn like a bucket of ice water. He looks up to see a 17-year-old Cedric Diggory, still clad in his championship robes, leaning over their crib. “Becoming a—what did Dumbledore call it?—ah, yes, a Horcrux, is painful business. Your brother’s simply passed out.” Arrdyn continued to stare at him. “I know, I know, Cedric is busy learning to ride his first children’s broom and definitely not dead. However, you have yet to do anything to change his fate. Would you rather I take the form of Collin Creevy? He was even younger when he died.” Death said. He picked up the ritual knife and began to idly play with it. “The Fates are not happy with me for sending you back the way I did. I told them I was just following your wishes but they pay special attention to you and disagree. So, oh great and glorious Master, do you have any orders while I’m here? No? O—“
“S-scarrr…” Arrdyn managed. He had to carefully think about how his mouth moved and prevent his tongue from tangling itself. Just because he knew the words didn’t mean that his body didn’t have to learn how to form them. The haughty grin fell off of Death’s face.
“What?!” He growled.
“Giv-ve me… f-the Scar” Arrdyn repeated clumsily pointing to the wound that was sluggishly bleeding on Harry forehead. Death frowned at him, wondering how he could pervert the order or if he should. When he had first set Harry Potter back in time he’d calculated a less than 5% chance of his master not causing the second rise of Voldemort to be worse than before. So far though, nothing dramatic had changed, in fact everyone was still slated to die how and when they had before. Even the delicate circumstances surrounding his survival of Voldemort’s first attack had remained the same. He was beginning to suspect that he had underestimated his first (and probably only) master. Just now he saw no harm in obeying the order and so he took the knife in his hand and deftly cut the increasingly familiar mark into Arrdyn’s forehead. Just as he finished, Severus Snape burst into the room. Surprised, Death dropped the knife and burst into shadows.
Snape rushed to their side and looked them over carefully. He wetted a receiving blanket with his tongue to clean both of their foreheads of blood to get a better look at their wounds. Harry began to rouse at his ministrations and started fussing. Awkwardly Snape tried to console and quiet the baby before casting a weak healing charm on them both. It obviously wasn’t his best spell because the cuts barely scabbed over. His attentions were enough that an exhausted Harry cried himself to sleep a few minutes later. Arrdyn watched him quietly, and seeing the two boys settled Snape crumpled in sorrow next to Lily’s corpse. His body was so tired that Arrdyn couldn’t help being dragged into sleep. Snape’s sobs echoed in his ears and dreams.
Severus Snape watched over them until he was forced to flee at the sound of Sirius’ motorcycle. The animagus could be heard entering the remains of their house and carefully making his way through the house. It hurt to hear Sirius’ howl of pain at finding James’ body and he choked back a sob when he made it to the nursery and saw Lily’s body. He passed by both of his friends corpses and picked up Harry. Realizing that he needed both hands to carry everything he set a protesting Harry back in the crib and fetched a muggle baby carrier Lily had insisted on them getting. Arrdyn was loaded into the back of the carrier and Harry was put in the front. He quickly packed a diaper bag with everything they needed until it was fit to burst.
“I’ll get you to Moony and then come back and take care of your mum and dad. Okay pups?” He told them as he carried them and the bag down the stairs and past James’ crumpled form. Just as they were passing the living room the Floo flared up. Sirius’ wand was up and at the ready before Hagrid’s hulking form could even step out of the grate. Sirius sighed in relief when he saw who it was.
“Hagrid. I nearly hexed you until your beard was sideways.” Sirius told him. Hagrid looked over to him.
“Ah! Sirius, Dumbledore sent me ta fetch the lil’ ones.” Hagrid told him looking at the destruction wrought on the house.
“I was just going to drop them off at Remus’—“Sirius started.
“We still don’ know who the mole is in the Order is. Are ya sure we can trust ‘im?” Hagrid interrupted. Sirius’ face darkened in anger.
“Remus is Arrdyn’s Godfather! Besides, I know who the rat is and when I get my hands on him…” Sirius growled. Hagrid rubbed the back of his shaggy head.
“Well, Dumbledore’s expectin’ me wi’ the boys in Surrey.” He told the shorter man. Sirius frowned.
“Surrey? He’s leaving them with the Dursleys? Is he mad?! She’s the last person Lily and James would trust the boys with!” Sirius exploded having remembered the disdainful woman and her pompous husband from the Potters’ wedding. Hagrid recoiled at his outburst.
“Ahm sure ya can go an’ get ‘em as soon as everythin’ settles down.” The half-giant placated. Eventually Hagrid convinced the last male Black to hand his precious cargo over much to Arrdyn’s distress. Sirius kissed them both, promising to return for them which only made Arrdyn cry harder, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t even get a trial to try and defend himself. Sirius looked up at the other man, deadly serious.
“I am trusting them with you, Hagrid. These boys are my only family left. Don’t break my trust.” Hagrid nodded solemnly back.
“Ah won’” Sirius gave Hagrid a crash course on driving his beloved motorcycle. The two men almost forgot the diaper bag except Arrdyn was sure to cry for his ‘Moony’ which in turn caused Harry to cry for his Pa’ foo. They arranged the blankets into a nest for the boys in the side car. The bag was buckled into the seat with them. Still sore and tired Harry was in and out of wakefulness for most of the trip. Arrdyn tried to stay awake to witness how they had come into their Aunt’s care but eventually he too drifted off.