Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No one knew why Hogwarts wouldn’t heal. After all, she had seen tragedies before. In her more than 1,000 years of existence, she had been shaped as equally by the expected heartbreaks of childhood, which had a rightful place in the stories of young wizards and witches, as she had by the unexpected traumas of adulthood, which had no place within her sacred walls but fell upon her charges nonetheless.

But she had also seen love. The breathless wonder of a first kiss. A muggle-born riding her first broom. A homesick first year embraced by his new house. Countless birthdays, snow white Christmases, and every occasion parties. Triumphs on the Quidditch Pitch. Success in the classrooms. Nostalgic visits. Students turned favored professors.

Hogwarts had witnessed the spectrum of life from simple joy to complex sorrow. She held these unbalanced experiences equal, mixing pain and happiness alike into the mortar holding together her stones. Nothing could tear her bones from her heart.

Until May 2nd, 1998.

When her walls crumbled. When the stream of blood flowed too high to be soaked back into her remaining bricks. When Fiendfyre burned up her most treasured room. When even her decorative statues felt compelled to take up the fight.

The day of her greatest tragedy combined with her greatest witnessed sacrifice.

On that day, there appeared a crack connecting two walls that could change everything.

Chapter Text

Lily

Officially, Lily Evans was taking a well-deserved break after completing her first day of class assignments. Unofficially, she had gone insane. Round the bend. Completely barmy. 

Because there was a crack in the wall of her dorm room, and it was taunting her.

“Potter,” The fissure said, no louder than a whisper.

She groaned, and rolled over on her bed, smooshing her face into the satin red pillow. Of course she wouldn’t be able to escape him, not even within the safety of her dorm.

“Potter!” The rift said, a little louder.

“Leave me alone!” Lily lifted her head to yell at the wall. “I’ve cracked,” She whispered, giggled, then groaned again. Against her brain’s wishes, her body got off the bed and knelt in front of the defect. “I don’t care how fit he got over the summer, stop talking to me about Potter!” She told the seam. Like a sane person.

To make matters worse, the crack talked back.

“Oh Merlin, apparently I have yet to sink the full depth of my rock bottom,” The rupture said, in a posh voice. A male, posh voice. “Even the wall thinks Potter is hot.”

“Um,” Lily said. “I’m not a wall. You’re a wall.” A pause, then, as if reminding herself as much as informing her wall-counterpart, “I’m a person.” She winced with her own stupid statement. People, intelligent people no less, had called Lily the brightest witch of her generation. Yet, here she was, arguing with a wall about her humanity.

“Funny,” The voice drawled. “Because you look like a crack in the wall to me. But, then again, I’m hardly a reliable source these days.”

Lily dropped down off her knees, crossing her legs in front of her. “Huh. On this side, you’re the crack on my wall.” She scanned up, and by the time her gaze reached the window, she realized the next bizarre twist in this new reality. “Except this is an external wall,” Lily mused. “So it can’t be an ordinary crack; otherwise, you’d have to be floating outside Gryffindor Tower.”

“I’m not,” The voice reassured her. “Though, this is Hogwarts. Stranger things have happened.” He cleared his throat. “So, why are you talking to a wall instead of working?”

“I thought we’d established both of us are people,” Lily teased. “But it’s hard to work when the walls start whispering your crush’s name.”

The voice chuckled, “I suppose so.” He sighed, and there was a faint rustling noise. “I should be off. No rest for the wicked.”

Something in the way he dismissed her made Lily’s heart ache, like she could sense the loneliness coating his words—it reminded her of Sev. “You know, you’re welcome to talk to me anytime you’d like,” Lily said. “So long as I’m alone here, I’ll answer.”

“You’re kind to offer,” The voice said. “But I don’t need another reminder in my life of just how far out of reach my heart has aimed.”

With that, the boy was gone.

🜃🝥🝮

Later that evening, Lily found herself sprawled out on the grass beside the Great Lake. But instead of facing the Giant Squid and his antics (he always did like to show off for the latest batch of first years), she gazed on the stones of Hogwarts. It was hard to believe this would be her last year on the grounds, and she felt a wave of nostalgia that threatened to overwhelm her.

Here, with her bare toes in the grass, the setting sun lighting up old stones in a wash of red, the gentle hooting of owls as they came and went from the owlery, it was easy to ignore the growing darkness of her daily life. The increased practical defense components of her classes, the tension between Slytherin and all other houses, the unexplained accidents falling upon Muggle-born and Half-blood students.

Lily wrapped her arms around her knees. There were so many things her mind had labelled off limits. Severus. Potter. Her uncertain future. The strange dark wizard growing in influence.

And now, the voices speaking to her through a rift in her dorm room wall.

🜃🝥🝮

Only, the crack seemed not to respect Lily’s boundaries. It rested for nearly a week, before waking Lily in the middle of the night.

“Harry, you need to sleep!” A woman’s voice demanded.

Lily sat up in bed at the exclamation, and looked around. To her annoyance, Marlene, Dorcas and Mary slumbered on despite the interruption.

“Hermione, leave it,” The boy, Harry, replied.

“You know I can’t,” Hermione said. “It’s breaking my heart, watching you fall apart under the stress of burdens that aren’t yours to bear.” That caught Lily’s attention. 

“They are mine, though. Can’t you see?” Harry sighed, and Lily crawled out of bed and over to the wall, curiosity outweighing her manners. “They’re all dead because of me.” Lily’s breath caught in her throat. 

“Punishing yourself won’t bring them back,” Hermione argued. 

To Lily’s surprise, Harry laughed. “Godric, what did I do to deserve you as a friend?”

“If you got some sleep, you might conjure up enough brain power to be able to answer that question,” Hermione said, a smile in her voice, and Lily wondered why she and this Hermione weren’t friends. With a name and mouth like hers, Lily should know her already.

“I’ll try,” Harry said.

“Somehow, I doubt that very much.” She sighed, “I’m going to get some rest. I’d ask if you’re coming, but I suspect I already know the answer so I won’t waste my time. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, ‘Mione,” Harry replied. “See you then.”

Lily leaned her head against the wall, debating about getting back into bed, when a soft sob escaped through the seam. Amidst the tears, she heard a soft rustle as the boy leaned back against their shared wall. She brought her hand slowly up to the crease, as if she could place her hand on his shoulder in comfort. The contact caused a sharp jolt, almost like static electricity. She shuddered, but didn’t move away.

No matter how desperately her bed called, Lily remained with her hand against the wall. When she woke up the next morning, a crick in her neck, she heard Harry’s gentle snoring and smiled. Hermione will be pleased.

🜃🝥🝮

At breakfast, Lily yawned, pouring a large cup of coffee.

“Late night?” Remus asked, sitting next to her.

“You could say that,” She answered, eyeing his own dark circles, as well as the empty bench beside him. “Should I be worried?” 

“Hmm?” He asked, before tracing her gaze. “Oh,” He grinned. “No pranks today; the boys are on the pitch.”

Raising one eyebrow, “I thought quidditch practices were on Saturdays.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “You know James. Couldn’t wait after the summer break to get his team in training.”

Lily nibbled on a piece of toast, her stomach suddenly too rocky for scrambled eggs. She did know Potter; that was the problem. Only this year, instead of finding his borderline obsession with quidditch annoying, as she should, she found his early morning workout regimine endearing.  

She aimed for distraction before her thoughts turned to broad shoulders and warm hazel eyes. “Do you know someone named Hermione?” Lily asked.

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. “No, I don’t.” With a sly grin, “But with a name like that, she’d be hard to miss.”

Nodding, Lily returned her attention to breakfast, which still took up most of her plate. Staying up late always killed her appetite.

“Why do you ask?” Remus inquired, and Lily panicked. How could she explain her wall phenomenon and its accompanying voices?

“No reason,” Lily replied, sipping her coffee. Remus narrowed his eyes and she reminded herself to watch out for the quiet ones. Luckily, the remaining Marauders entered the dining hall at that moment, and there was no room for anything else, even Lily’s mystery, to exist.

🜃🝥🝮

With one last stir, Lily watched her cauldron of Veritaserum change from slightly milky to completely clear. She smiled, a hand clasping on her shoulder merely seconds after the transformation.

“Splendid, my dear!” Professor Slughorn praised. “I could not do better myself. Twenty points to Gryffindor.”

She beamed at Remus, who served as her partner (trading her skill in Potions for his in Transfiguration). Catching a glint of shaggy black hair just beyond Remus’s shoulder, Lily evaded gazing on the man, shooting her eyes back to the cauldron. 

With a slick movement Lily wouldn’t have caught had she not been looking, Remus snuck a flask of their potion. 

“For a game this weekend,” He winked, and Lily frowned. “Oh come on. It’s seventh year, Lils. Live a little.”

It wasn’t the theft or the intended use that bothered Lily, though. Only what secrets she might be forced to reveal when she inevitably caved to joining in their Marauder merriment.

“Don’t call me Lils ,” Lily begged.

Remus tutted in mock disapproval. “But how are you supposed to become a Marauder without a nickname?”

“Who said I wanted to be a Marauder?” She muttered, and his knowing grin said more than she liked. Narrowing her eyes, “You know, Sirius and Potter get all of the attention, but I think you’re the true evil genius behind the scenes.”

The look of surprise across Remus’s face was genuine, and a sharp nudge to her side drew her attention. “Good job, Evans; you’ve discovered our secret,” Sirius beamed. “James and I may be the pretty faces of Marauder Madness, but our pal Moony here is the sexy brain.”

“Sexy brain?” Remus repeated as a question, his face in disbelief.

Sirius had the audacity to look embarrassed, and Lily groaned internally. She’d been hoping to catch Professor Slughorn after class for help with her secret, not become the unwitting third party to the strange sexual tension brewing between librarian-chic Lupin and Gryffindor playboy Black.

“Flirt on your own time,” Lily said, leaving the two boys to sputter in her wake as she made her way toward the front of the room.

“Professor?” She interrupted Slughorn’s desk tidying.

“Miss Evans,” He beamed. “How can I help you? Are you worried about the first Slug Club meeting? I assure you, your invite still stands.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t worried about that.” Then, she remembered to whom she was speaking. “But thank you for the continued invite. I’ve always enjoyed our parties.” She felt icky with the statement, despite its truth, but she knew Slughorn was a lonely man who relished his connections with students. Who was she to judge, especially considering she’d come over to prey off those exact links? “Actually, I wanted to see if you knew someone.”

He puffed up his chest. “Looking for a job connection?” He asked, eyes twinkling with purpose. “Or,” with a wink, “Perhaps a love connection?”

Blushing, “Nothing like that, Professor. Only, I heard about a clever girl named Hermione and I was hoping to meet her.” She knew the question was odd, and hoped her teacher would indulge her.

“Hermione?” Professor Slughorn leaned back, the old chair groaning under his weight. “I wish I could help you, my dear, but I’ve never heard such a name before. And that’s not a name one would forget.”

“Ah,” She replied, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Well, I suppose it was a bit of a lark, my asking. Thanks for your time.”

Turning to leave, Slughorn called at her back, “I’ll keep an ear out for her! I could always use another clever girl in my collection.”

She replied, “Thank you!” without turning back around, hiding her wince at his comment.

Walking back to her dorm room, she contemplated the enigma of her wall crack. Who was the posh boy sharing her crush? Why couldn’t she learn more about a witch with an unusual name? What had happened to Harry that kept him up at night?

Would her obsession with this new mystery distract from her growing attraction to a boy she’d sworn to hate?

🜃🝥🝮

“Anyone there?” Lily asked, her face almost touching the seam.

“Hello?” A voice called out from a distance, too distorted by space to be recognized.

“Hello!” Lily called again, looking over her shoulder to double check she was still alone in her dorm room; some manias were best enabled in privacy. 

“Is it you again?” The posh boy returned. “My fellow Potter-lover?”

Lily huffed. “I’d hardly say I loved him.”

He laughed. “Trust me, darling. Denial gets old; best to embrace it. Besides, the whole Wizarding World loves him. At least you’re of a gender with the chance to earn it back.”

She frowned; she knew Potter was adored by their classmates, but the whole of Wizarding England? That seemed like a stretch. However, the posh boy seemed prone to hyperbole, so she didn’t question it much.

“What can I call you?” She asked. The silence lingered. Oh, she thought. He’s afraid to reveal who he is. “It doesn’t have to be your real name,” She reassured him. “Only, I’ve been referring to you as ‘posh boy’ in my head, and it’s getting a little tiresome.”

He laughed. “Posh boy seems fitting enough. What shall I call you?”

She reflected back to her Defense class the previous day, when she’d managed to produce a Patronus charm for the first time. A deer, though she didn’t like to think of the implications of its form, especially given the posh boy’s earlier comments. Potter’s Patronus was well known to be a stag.

“Bambi,” She offered, blushing, though her new friend couldn’t see it. 

“That’s an odd name,” The boy said.

“It’s from a Muggle child’s film.”

“Oh,” The boy spoke softly. “I’m… I’m a pureblood. I’m afraid I didn’t watch Muggle films growing up.”

Lily felt her shoulders tighten. “I’m a Muggle-born. Will that be a problem?” Her voice sounded rough and harsh to her ears.

“No!” The boy replied quickly. “No, that’s not a problem. That’s not a problem at all. It’s great, actually. Fantastic.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”

Despite herself, his bumbling apology charmed her. “No harm done,” She reassured him.

“I don’t… you may be able to tell but I don’t have the chance to talk to many people these days,” The boy confessed. “Would you mind telling me about this Bambi?”

She leaned against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest. “It’s about a boy deer, born with  destiny, curiosity, and kindness. He’s warned about the dangers of the forest, and discovers them firsthand when his mother is killed by a hunter. After that, he’s raised by his father, the protector of the forest, and learns how to love and protect all his own. It’s a sad but a sweet tale about growing up, as well as the magic of the forest.”

“It sounds awful,” The boy said. “I can’t imagine… my mother means everything to me.”

“Yeah,” She smiled. “Lots of people hate it for that reason. Probably not the best premise for a children’s story, but death is an inevitable part of life, after all.”

“Morbid much?” The boy scoffed. “I’m afraid I’ve seen enough death to last a lifetime.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lily replied. “It seems you’re not the only one on your side of the wall with a tragic story.”

“I suppose not,” The boy admitted. “Though I hardly deserve the right to complain about it.”

She tutted. “Everyone has the right to feel their pain.”

He laughed. “If you knew me, and what I’d done, I doubt you’d feel the same way.”

“I can’t imagine that’s true,” She argued, gearing up for a fight.

“Well,” He sighed, backing her down. “Agree to disagree.”

“Thumper,” Lily said, smiling.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m calling you Thumper. That’s your nickname.”

“I’m afraid I must object.” The boy, Thumper , sounded horrified by the nickname. Perfect , Lily’s evil mind reacted.

“Watch the movie and report back.”

“I don’t think I can—”

“No excuses!” Lily emphasized. “I won’t talk to you until you’ve seen it.”

Thumper sighed. “We’ll see.”

But Lily was fairly certain he’d find a way. As much as she wanted to continue talking to him, she thought Thumper needed her more. 

🜃🝥🝮

Despite all efforts otherwise, Lily found herself at the Marauder’s Bash, sitting in a circle of drunken Gryffindors, watching a bottle spin. She glared at Mary sitting beside her, the reason for Lily’s capitulation to this nonsense.

“Lighten up, Lils,” Mary whispered.

“Seriously, how did that become my nickname?” Lily pouted, her eyes following the slowing spin of the empty Firewhiskey bottle. Stealing her bottle of wine back from Mary, she took a long swig.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Very unladylike , her mind mocked her, but she caught Potter tracing the movement with interest.

She looked away.

“Oh ho ho!” Sirius called out when his spin landed on Marlene.

Marlene groaned. “Been there done that. I’ll take a truth.”

Sirius handed over the Chalice of Candor, so named by himself, and Marlene took a small swallow.

With an evil leer, he asked, “Have you ever had a sex dream about Professor McGonagall?”

She struggled against the watered down truth serum until the words spilled out. “Yes!” Groaning, “You bastard!” She blushed. “I told you that in confidence.” 

The room erupted with laughter; even Lily couldn’t help but join in. Marlene rolled her eyes and leaned into the center to spin. When the bottle landed on Lily, she smiled. In the game of truth, dare, or kiss, she chose the devil she knew.

“Kiss,” Lily said, relishing the shocked reactions. 

“Need some liquid courage?” Sirius offered his bottle of Firewhiskey, Potter looking on with unmasked anticipation.

Ignoring his offer, and without hesitation, Lily crawled to Marlene’s position in the circle. Placing her hand on the nape of Marlene’s neck, she asked, “This all right?”

Marlene nodded, and Lily kissed her gently, then pulled back. They shared a sly smile; it wasn’t their first kiss, but she found it as butterfly-free as the last time they tried.

Sirius moaned, “That was hardly a kiss, ladies.”

Lily shrugged and returned to her seat. “You never specified tongue.”

Even out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t miss Potter’s hanging jaw. “Close your mouth, Potter. You’ll catch flies,” Lily warned, leaning over to spin the bottle. And if she positioned the gape of her shirt intentionally within the line of Potter’s vision, who would know?

She watched the bottle land on Remus, and let out a breath of relief. He darted his eyes to Potter, then called, “Dare.”

Grinning, because she’d anticipated this selection, she said, “I dare you to skinny dip in the Great Lake.”

His mouth dropped open. “Lily Evans, I didn’t think you had it in you.”

She shrugged. “Never underestimate the quiet ones.”

He touched his nose with his index finger and winked. “Well, shall we all adjourn to witness my naked embarrassment?”

“No,” Lily said, her mathematical mind spinning. She leaned back on her elbows, “As your benevolent daremaster, I’ll spare you the indignity of going starkers in front of the whole of Gryffindor seventh years. I do insist you take one witness, as proof you’ve completed the dare.”

His shoulders slumped in relief.

“But I get to pick the witness,” She added, eyebrows waggling. And, high off her plotting, she turned to Potter and winked.

“Me?” He asked.

She shook her head, keeping her eyes on Potter. “No, I think Black would be a much more reliable source.” Potter smiled, a wry look in his eyes like he’d caught onto her game. She resisted the urge to preen under his approving gaze.

“Well?” Lily said, finally turning away from Potter, noticing Remus’s lack of movement. “Lupin? Are you backing out of the dare? Because I believe that would result in me being allowed to ask you three truths.”

“No!” Remus stood up, grabbing Sirius by the collar of his shirt. “No, we’re going.”

She watched them stumble out of the room, her cheeks painful with mirth.

By the time both boys returned to the room, the majority of the room was drunk past the point of noticing both Lupin and Black displayed the signs of recent drying charms. Not Potter though, and he caught Lily’s knowing (and glazed) expression with a triumphant grin.

The bottle landed on Lily, and she opened her mouth to, again, choose, kiss.

“Come on,” Potter groaned. “I’ve—I mean, we’ve had to watch you kiss nearly everyone in the room. Some more than once!”

Lily smirked; Potter was one of the few people she hadn’t kissed.

Marlene pouted. “But I was enjoying my Lily kisses!” She’d been the recipient of four pecks already.

“You have to choose something else,” Potter said, crossing his arms and looking at Sirius for back-up.

Sirius shrugged, “There’s no rule that says she has to vary her choices.”

Lily laughed to herself; she had a feeling the results of her dare left Sirius and Remus forever in her debt. Still, she knew better than to battle a stubborn Potter in a room of his acolytes.

“No, no. Since Potter’s pouting, I’ll acquiesce. Truth.” And, really, it was a fairly safe choice given the spinner was Tomas, a mousey boy with no imagination. He passed over the Chalice.

“Of everyone you’ve kissed tonight, who did you enjoy kissing most?” His eyes betrayed how much he hoped it was him.

She gave him a kind smile after taking her sip of potion, but answered, “Marlene.” The room gasped, and Lily thanked Godric his question was as simple as she’d hoped. No one had to know the reason behind her answer.

“Why?” Potter asked, and Lily cursed him as words she didn’t want to say fought against her lips to spill.

“Foul move!” Sirius called out, but his indignation couldn’t stop the effects of the serum.

Lily held her breath as she rearranged the answer into something less incriminating. “Because she smells nice,” She confessed. Because she smelled like you , she managed to keep secret.

Except, it didn’t help when Marlene replied, “That’s so funny, because I accidentally got sprayed with James’s cologne earlier.”

Necking the wine, Lily looked anywhere but at Potter, hoping everyone blamed her rising flush on the alcohol.

🜃🝥🝮

The next morning was hell, and Lily wished to Merlin she was still friendly with Sev; he always kept spare hangover potions for his fellow Slytherins to garner favor.

“Evans,” Potter said with a grin, grabbing the vacant seat next to her. “You were certainly a surprise last night.”

She scoffed at his words and the fact he managed to look so refreshed after a night of drinking. “You’ve got some serious low expectations for me if you’re surprised by a few creative dares.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, it wasn’t the dares that shocked me.” He leaned around her to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice, and she restrained herself from taking a deep inhale of his cologne. When he settled back in his seat, he gave her a look like he knew exactly what she’d been resisting. “So how long have you found my scent entrancing?”

She rolled her eyes. “Appreciating your poncy cologne is not the same as finding your scent ‘entrancing’.” 

“Prove me wrong,” He said, leaning toward her. “Take a breath and tell me what you feel.”

After giving him her patented fuck-you-Potter glare, she took a second to look him over. Despite his brash words and confidence, his hand trembled in its grasp of his juice, and his eyes betrayed the longing he felt. She leaned into the crook of his neck, taking a short inhale. Then, she blew out a steady exhale, long enough so goosebumps rose on his tanned skin.

She pulled back, noting his closed eyes with some satisfaction. He opened them slowly, “So?”

“So what?” She said, gathering her belongings. 

“So… what did you feel?”

Shouldering her backpack, she looked into those hopeful eyes, and hated him for making her want more. “Nothing, Potter.” He jerked backward, startled by her words. “I felt nothing.”

🜃🝥🝮

“Thumper!” Lily called out.

She winced, and took a second to check out the room. Letting out a relieved sigh, and silent ‘thank you’ to the Gryffindor habit of everyone watching quidditch practice, she crossed the room to the crack.

“Thumper!” She cried again.

“Hold your horses,” Thumper said. “Or, rather, should I say, hold your deer, Bambi?”

She laughed, “That was terrible. Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?”

“For being a breath of fresh air after my nightmare of a night and morning.” She slumped against the wall. “What I wouldn’t give for a hangover potion right now.”

“Ah, late night partying?” Thumper asked, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

She flicked the wall and hoped he could feel it. “Don’t be a prat; it’s not like I could have invited you.”

“I’d say, ‘ow’ but I don’t think you can injure me through this connection.”

“Is that what this is?” She asked.

He hummed. “I’m not sure, actually. I admit I’ve been too busy to research it.”

“How could you possibly be too busy?” She pondered. “It’s only the second week of classes.”

“The first week of… what do you mean, classes?” Thumper’s voice pitched higher. Lily noted the trace of alarm that accompanied it.

“You are at Hogwarts, aren’t you? I mean, we established that you aren’t hovering outside Gryffindor Tower on a broom, but I assumed you were also at the school.”

“I am at Hogwarts,” He spoke slowly, as if to force calm into it. “But there are no classes, Bambi.”

She frowned. “It is the 10th of September, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but—” Thumper sighed. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of this?”

“Think of what?”

“That this connection might not just span distance, but time.”

Gaping, “ Time? ” Before she could allow the shock to completely undo her, Thumper continued.

“In fact, it may not just be time or distance; at least, not the way we understand them. For all we know, this connection could span dimensions .”

“Dimensions,” Lily squeaked. Well, at least the mystery of why no one had heard of Hermione was solved. It was possible she hadn’t been born yet, or died already, or lived in an entire other dimension. The floor was starting to feel simultaneously closer and farther away.

“Ground rules,” Thumper asserted.

“Excuse me?” She replied, still floating outside her body.

“We need ground rules,” He said. “Because it’s just occurred to me that you could be dead, or not born yet, and I’m not emotionally equipped to handle that right now. I’m not,” He sighed. “To be honest, I’m not doing very well right now. You’re the only person who I can talk to, as pathetic as that seems.”

Lily allowed herself to object, “Hey!” 

“No offense,” Thumper assured her. “But a crack in the wall is rather poor company, all things considered.”

“I mean, I’m talking to you, too,” She reminded him.

“Right, but I get the sense you’re doing this out of intellectual curiosity rather than social desperation.”

She laughed; he had her dead to rights on that. “All right,” She replied. “You’ve got me there.”

“So just… let me indulge in the fantasy of our friendship for awhile, before we bring reality into it.”

Again, his voice carried a note of sadness, much like it had the first time they’d spoken. Hadn’t she agreed he could reach out to her if he needed? She could allow him this brief outlet, and hold off on her curiosity. For now.

“Name your ground rules,” She offered, and, she swore, she could hear him smile.

🜃🝥🝮

They agreed on no real names, no dates or years, and they each got a pass to call ‘timeout’ if questioning got too personal. So, over the next few weeks, Lily got to know the boy behind the crack in her wall (who did eventually watch Bambi, and admitted crying over it, before cursing her out for calling him Thumper). 

As they conversed, she continued to puzzle over why someone so insightful, clever, and funny would be so hard up for friendship. But every time she tried to dig deeper into the mystery of Thumper’s loneliness, he called timeout.

She learned to stop asking.

On her end, she shared stories of growing up as a Muggle. For some reason, Thumper was fascinated by her upbringing.

“I never expected a pureblood to be so curious about Muggle-borns,” Lily’d teased.

Despite her light tone, the statement seemed to hurt Thumper, and when she asked why, he threw up his normal roadblock.

But for as shut down as Thumper could be about some topics, he was surprisingly open about many others. They spoke at length of his sexuality; Lily didn’t know anyone ‘out’ before, though she had suspicions about a few of her friends: Remus and Sirius, among others. 

“I’m not exactly ‘out’,” He’d argued. 

“You’re out to me,” She’d countered. This reply made him pensive in a different way, and when she pushed, he’d actually answered.

“I’m vulnerable with you,” He’d said. “I guess I’m surprised by it. My friends are… they’re great, really. But most of them are out of the country, or otherwise indisposed. Even if they were here, they aren’t the most attentive listeners.” Sighing, “I think I’m grateful. Grateful for your time and… your friendship.”

The funny thing? So was Lily. Despite her initial judgement that she came back to Thumper because of scholarly interest, the drive to talk with him had deepened. Ever since her fallout with Severus, she’d missed their conversations. In many ways, Thumper reminded her of a version of Sev who could put aside his prejudices and be honest with himself. Thumper helped heal the part of herself that fell apart due to Sev’s insult.

Still, her curiosity plagued her. She’d made promises; she knew their importance to Thumper, and she knew Thumper’s importance to her, but she couldn’t help but break their pact in early October.

“I want to ask you something,” Lily said. “About a boy I overheard once, through the crack.”

“You’ve been talking to other crack-boys?” Thumper pouted. “And I thought I was special.”

“Hush, you,” She joked. “And no, I didn’t talk to him, actually. I overheard him and his friend arguing and he just seemed… sad. I was wondering if he’d started sleeping normally. His friend was worried.”

Thumper sighed. “I’ll try, but people don’t really want to talk to me.”

“I still find that hard to believe. You’re a complete tosser, but you do grow on people.”

“Hah, hah. All right, what’s his name?”

“Harry.”

“Harry,” Thumper repeated.

The silence stretched so long, Lily wondered if Thumper had left. “You still there?”

“Sorry just. Had a moment. Describe him? Wait. Sorry. That was stupid. What was his friend’s name?”

“Hermione.”

“Hermione,” Thumper squeaked.

“You all right?”

“Peachy.” His voice still registered an octave higher than normal. Clearing his throat, “I just. You said you had a crush on Potter. The first time we spoke.”

“I do,” Lily replied, having trouble finding the connection. They hadn’t spoken much about their shared crush lately, besides the occasional rant about his awful (wonderful) hair.

“Harry Potter.”

“No,” Lily shook her head, though Thumper couldn’t see her. “Who’s Harry Potter?” A rising tide of panic formed in her gut.

“Who’s Harry…” Thumper made a small sound like his brain had exploded.

“You ok there, Thumper?” Lily asked, though she was not all that ok herself.

He sighed. “I just… I know we said no specifics. Only, I’ve deduced we share the same dimension.” Well, that was news to Lily. “Which means we’re split by time and space. And, really, it’s barely any space at all if you’re in Gryffindor Tower and I’m in the Room of Hidden Things. So, time, mostly. Given your crush, I’d assumed you were either a few years behind or ahead of me. Not the end of the world, but still worrying enough for me to want to keep our pact intact.

“But if you don’t know who I’m talking about… oh Merlin. Just say it, Bambi. Ruin my life, and tell me your full name.”

“Thumper, we don’t have to do this.” Suddenly, she wanted to cling onto the raft of ignorance from before.

“If you’re who I think you are, we absolutely do. Say it.”

She didn’t know why bubbles had formed in her stomach; clearly she had no idea what had set Thumper off, but the depth of his anxiety didn’t spell good things. For either of them. With trepidation, she finally answered, “Lily Evans.”

“Fuck,” Thumper cursed. “Fucking goddamnit piece of Salazar-humping shit. All right. So that means your crush is on—”

“James Potter,” She interrupted him, almost feeling gleeful with having admitted her secret out loud, despite the strained circumstances of its revelation.

Lily had always suspected that if she, Lily Evans, confessed being head over heels for one James Potter, the world would end. But that was overly dramatic of her, and not a fantasy befitting such a realistic and intelligent woman.

Right?

Except, when her confession resulted in the crack in Lily’s wall to shudder, grow exponentially, before collapsing in on itself, her reaction was not surprise, as it should have been. No, when the rift between her world and Thumper’s disappeared completely after speaking her crush by name, all she could do was say,

“Yup, that’s about right.”

🜃🝥🝮

Once again, Lily had to resort to using the Marauders for knowledge. Only, despite her efforts, she couldn’t get Remus alone anymore. Since the skinny dipping dare, he’d grown attached at the hip to Sirius.

After a few weeks of searching the castle on her own, and increasingly fruitless attempts to get Remus’s attention, Lily cursed her matchmaking skills and approached the four boys in Gryffindor’s common room.

“Boys,” She greeted them.

“Lily,” Remus smiled warmly. Sirius reluctantly dragged his eyes away from Lupin, Peter lifted a hand lazily, and Potter puffed out his chest.

“Evans,” Potter said. “How can we help you?”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; she needed their help, after all. “I was wondering if you knew about The Room of Hidden Things.”

Because, really, it was the only lead she had left to find Thumper. 

The boys looked among themselves, and Lily couldn’t discern if they were asking each other permission to share, or wondering about the room themselves.

“Come with me,” Potter said, standing.

With a sigh, Lily followed him out of the common room, the other Marauders trailing faithfully. Potter led them to the seventh floor and paced the width of an ugly tapestry (were those trolls doing ballet? ) until a door appeared on the other side of the wall.

Sirius reached out and pulled open the door, “Ladies first,” He winked, and this time Lily let her eyes roll unimpeded.

She’d only walked a few steps inside the room when she saw the familiar crack against the side wall. Letting out a sigh of relief, she nearly ran to the rift, and called out, “Thumper!” Before remembering her audience.

“Thumper?” Remus repeated. “You named the crack after the rabbit from Bambi?”

“Bambi?” Sirius, Peter, and Potter asked at the same time. Purebloods , Lily shook her head.

Potter found a couch and spread his limbs across it in a rather appealing picture. Turning away from the vision, Lily said to Remus, “Not the crack , Remus. It’s the nickname for my friend, the boy on the other side of the fissure.”

“You owe us a better explanation than that, Lils,” Remus replied, perching on the arm of Potter’s couch. “We brought you to the room, now tell us what’s going on.” Sirius wandered over to the crack and ran his fingers along it, pulling them back immediately as if shocked. Peter seemed more interested in surveying the rows of items that lined the room; hidden things, indeed.

Making a reminder to explore the room at length later, Lily turned to the three Marauders who seemed to care about her mystery. She looked over their expectant faces. Did she owe them an explanation in payment for them helping her find the crack? No, she didn’t think so. But she was grateful. More than that, she felt she needed to share her story, if only to unload the burden of how Thumper had reacted to her identity.

So, she started talking.

“It started on the first day of class. I noticed a crack I’d never seen before on the wall of my dorm room, and heard a voice come through it.” Lily neglected to mention it had called out Potter’s name. “I began talking to the voice, a boy, and we’ve become friends. Only, we were fairly certain the connection between our two fissures spanned dimensions, time, space, or some combination of the three. So we made a rule: never speak our real names, and never give out too many specifics about the worlds we inhabited.”

“How come you spoke to this boy, anyway?” Potter pouted.

Ignoring his jealousy, Lily continued, “Only, we broke our rule, or at least I did by sharing my full name at Thumper’s request. Then, the crack disappeared from my wall. Thumper had mentioned his crack formed in the wall of The Room of Hidden Things, and I’d wondered if, maybe, the crack may have moved there.” Lily placed her hand gently on the wall, breathing out another sigh of relief. “Looks like I was right.”

“Bambi?” Thumper said, and Lily laughed.

“Thumper! Are you all right?”

“A bit worried, but better now that you’re back.”

Potter scoffed in the background.

Lily ignored the emotion, but noted the outburst. “We’re not alone. I have Potter, Black, Lupin, and Pettigrew with me.” Although, she couldn’t even see Pettigrew anymore; he was lost to the riches of the room.

Thumper swore, “Son of a biscuit eating whore. You had to bring the whole Marauding gang, didn’t you?”

“We’re famous!” Sirius shouted, while Remus looked worried and Potter looked furious.

“He’s got a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” Potter said.

“Was that your Potter?” Thumper said. “Of course it was. I should have guessed he’d be self-righteous.”

“Do you mind?” Lily scolded the boys (and ignored Sirius’s called back ‘No!’). “Thumper, I had to move to the Room of Hidden Things. The crack in my dorm room disappeared after our last conversation.”

“Immediately after?”

“Well, sort of in the middle. The last thing I said—”

“Got you,” Thumper interrupted, like a good friend. “I think… Bambi. Lily, I’ve waited until I could talk with you, but I have to tell some people about this. I can’t keep this a secret any longer, and I regret the position this has placed you in. That being said, if you didn’t want… if you wanted some… Salazar. I’m no good at this emotional crap. Look, you may not be interested in knowing what the future holds for you.”

“So you are in the future,” Lily said, eyes widening. “My future.”

“Enough,” Remus called out. “We need to stop. We can’t go messing with time like this.” He pulled himself off the couch and walked to Lily, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Lily, we need to talk with the Headmaster.”

“Is that Lupin?” Thumper said. “Yes—fuck. I forgot about Dumbledore. That’s a good idea, listen to Lupin.” Lily noted the pitch change in his voice; something about Dumbledore didn’t sit well with Thumper, despite his words.

“All right,” Lily agreed, facing Remus. “I can admit I’m a bit over my head here.” She turned back to the wall. “Will you be around to talk to Professor Dumbledore?”

Thumper let out a maniacal laugh; he was getting good at those. “No, I expect when I share this news, I won’t be back to speak with you. Possibly forever.”

“Thumper…”

“No, Lily. It’s been a pleasure. You… your friendship has been more than I’ve deserved.”

Potter muttered, “That’s right,” under his breath, which didn’t escape Thumper.

With a low chuckle, Thumper said, “It’s funny. I believe that, and yet, it hurts to hear it all the same. Lily, thank you. For everything.”

She heard his retreating steps echo through the room he occupied, then the distant shutting of a door. 

Whirling around, she unleashed her anger and disappointment on the easiest target in the room. “James Potter. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you? That is my friend . And you treated him like dirt. Why must you always insist on being the worst version of yourself?”

Potter’s eyes widened. “What? I—”

“No,” Lily interrupted. “He’s been having a hard time, and he just lost his only friend, me, for reasons I can’t begin to understand. And instead of being able to comfort him, or even tell him how much his friendship meant to me , you stole our moment out of, what, misguided jealousy?” She groaned, and said words she would later regret, if only because they betrayed a secret she hadn’t been permitted to share. “He’s gay , Potter. So put away your dick; this isn’t a competition for my attention. You were just an absolute ass for no reason.”

Her chest heaved with the effort of putting Potter in his place, which, based on his face, she’d accomplished. Good , she thought at his pained expression and guilty body language.

Remus cleared his throat. “Well, if we’re done with the human interest portion of this afternoon, perhaps we can discuss how and what we’re going to tell the Headmaster?”

“Sure sure,” Sirius said, “Right after we talk about Bambi .”

Lily groaned. She already missed the nickname ‘Lils’.

🜃🝥🝮

It didn’t take much to get the Headmaster up to The Room of Hidden Things, or The Room of Requirement, as Professor Dumbledore called it.

Turns out, the Headmaster never lost his boyish curiosity.

“Amazing,” He said, laying spell upon spell on the fracture. “Your ‘Thumper’ is right, this is no dimensional split, only time.”

“Do we know what caused it?” Lily ventured, feeling bold with her own central role in the mystery.

Professor Dumbledore frowned. “Hogwarts in the future has undergone some form of extreme trauma. She is trying to heal, but something is holding her back.” He ran his hand along the crack, as if trying to feel something hidden in its crevice. Whatever he was looking for, whether he found it or not, the Headmaster nodded, then turned to the Marauders and Lily.

“I’d advise you all to stay away from this wall, and this room, until I can conduct further tests. The rift could be unstable, and, with time in play, there is always the chance that actions or words from our future counterparts may only serve to create more instability for Hogwarts.”

Then, with one raised eyebrow, his intent was clear: they were to leave, while he stayed.

🜃🝥🝮

But Lily couldn’t stay away. In the dead of night, she snuck up to the seventh floor, and paced the hallway like Potter had done, wishing for a way to talk to Thumper. On her third pass, the door appeared.

At the wall, she whispered, “Anyone there?”

Not Thumper, but a familiar voice replied. “‘S just me.”

“Who’s… oh. Harry, right?” Lily said.

“You know me?” He replied, sounding lost and hopeful at the same time.

“I overheard you one night, talking to Hermione about how you couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh,” Harry said, the hope dropping from his voice. “Yeah, I have trouble with that. Obviously.”

Lily slid down the wall, and leaned her back up against it. “Want to talk about it? I’m good at listening.”

Harry laughed, joyless and full of pain. “The last thing I want to do is talk about it.”

She tutted. “Somehow, I don’t believe you.”

“And you would know?” His voice turned angry. 

Despite herself, she recoiled. “I suppose I wouldn’t. Only, I’m good at reading people, and you seem like you want to talk.” Desperately , her mind added, though her mouth now knew better than to say it.

“Well, I don’t,” He argued.

Lily wanted to smack him. “Fine, don’t talk. After all, I sleep just fine.”

“Do you?” Harry asked. “Because I don’t believe you . You’re not the only one who’s good at reading people.”

She sighed; he could win this battle. “You’re right. I’m worried about my friend; I call him Thumper.”

“Like from Bambi?” Harry laughed, a real one, and, Godric, it filled Lily with joy. This man, whoever he was, contained such extremes in equal measure. How did he hold all of these emotions together without falling apart?

Except, maybe that was the problem.

“It’s fitting, actually,” Harry continued. “Growing up, he was always talking about what his father would say. Though he may have needed to be taught his lesson on ‘if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all’ a few more times.”

“Do you know if he’s all right?” Lily asked, ignoring the slight stab at her friend’s character.

Harry scoffed. “He doesn’t talk to anyone. And the bastard’s become so skilled at Occlumency, if he feels genuine emotions anymore, he keeps them locked away far from me. Suppose I can’t blame him.”

These words made Lily feel rather voyeuristic, knowing what she did about Thumper’s feelings, especially as they concerned Harry’s level of attractiveness. Still, finding someone fit and liking them weren’t the same; exhibit A: her feelings for Potter.

“I shouldn’t be talking to you,” Harry sighed, before Lily could say anything else. “It’s not… you’re not… this can’t be healthy. I’m sorry. I need to go.”

“Wait!” Lily called out. But Harry was already gone.

🜃🝥🝮

When Lily was called to Professor Dumbledore’s office, her heart skipped a beat. Had he known she’d broken his orders? Then, she saw Potter, Remus and Sirius waiting outside his door.

“Where’s Peter?” She asked, so used to seeing the four of them together.

Sirius shrugged. “Dumbledore only requested the three of us.”

Without warning, the gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office spun, revealing a staircase. The present Marauders and Lily ascended, and, if a few of their hands trembled on the handrail, no one pointed it out. Maybe Lily wasn’t the only one who’d ventured back into the Room.

Professor Dumbledore greeted them with a smile, and gestured to where he’d arranged a conference table covered with an assortment of tea and biscuits. “Please, sit,” He offered.

He waited until all four of them had poured their tea and nibbled a biscuit or two before starting.

“You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you all here today,” Dumbledore began.

“It’s about the crack, obviously,” Sirius replied, earning him what appeared to be a shin kick from Remus. The boys glared at each other.

Ignoring the exchange, their Professor nodded. “I’ve spoken with Professor McGonagall. Future Professor McGonagall, and we’ve come to the same conclusion. The four of you have been requested by Hogwarts specifically to help in her healing process.”

“Why us?” Remus asked.

Professor Dumbledore gave Remus a look that said, ‘Kindly wait until I finish’, with just a hint of ‘Shut the fuck up’. Lily and Remus gave each other an amused grin, having read the same emotion.

“Go on, Professor,” Remus added, the little smart ass.

“We don’t know exactly why you’ve been chosen, although… there are some theories. Your specific magical signatures are keyed into the rift somehow, making the four of you the only people who can traverse the chasm between our two times.”

Traverse the chasm? Were they meant to… travel forward in time? In shock, Lily scanned the room for the other’s reaction. Remus echoed Lily’s shock, Sirius seemed eager for the adventure, and Potter… Potter looked like he was reserving judgement. The unlikely restraint impressed Lily.

The Headmaster continued, “The journey would be safe enough, but what I fear is messing with the future. Time is a complicated—”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Potter asked, and Lily jumped in her seat at the interruption. She’d known Potter was cocky, but she never imagined he might be demanding of Dumbledore . More than that, she’d never imagined his assertiveness might ever result in this infuriating flip of her stomach.

It’s hot , her body said. Him challenging Professor Dumbledore is hot .

Lily hated herself.

Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, a twinkle in his eyes. Apparently, when Potter challenged him, he didn’t mind. Somehow, this made Potter even hotter .

Lily hated herself a little more.

“You’re right. I haven’t raised the most salient point yet,” He said.

“And?” Potter leaned forward. “Are you ever going to tell us the real reason we’re here?”

Sighing, their Headmaster raised a cup of tea to his mouth. He took a sip, and Lily itched for him to just get on with it already before she did something crazy, like kiss Potter at a table of his friends and their Headmaster. 

“Just rip off the bandaid, Professor.” Lily said. Then added for the pureblood benefit, “Say the worst, and have it be done.”

“One of the students on the other side of the wall is your son,” Professor Dumbledore said, glancing between Lily and Potter. 

Lily turned to look at Potter, who looked like he’d just won the lottery. Her stomach turned, her pulse raced. A thin line of sweat trailed down her back, and goosebumps raised on her arms.

“Do you mean to tell me… that me and,” She looked at Potter, “That we— ”

And that’s the last thing Lily remembered before fainting off her chair.

🜃🝥🝮

When she woke, she felt warm and comforted. She let out a sigh of contentment, and stretched, her arms grazing the strong biceps of— She opened her eyes to a grinning Potter.

“Oh Merlin,” She moaned, pushing his arms off of her and sitting up.

“You fainted,” He pointed out, handing her a chocolate bar, which she took with a glare. She’d never before seen him look so pleased.

Munching the dessert with as much disdain as possible, she looked around the room. The Headmaster was gone; Remus and Sirius had moved to one of his couches, arms wrapped around each other, looking as pained as Lily felt.

“What’s up with them?” She said, gesturing toward the couch with her chin.

Potter gave her a wry smile. “We’re all dead.”

She blinked. “What?”

“You missed the best part,” Potter said, and Lily noticed the ease of his smile lessened somewhat. “While you were sleeping, Dumbledore told us that we had a son, you and I, and then we died when he was a year old. At least Remus and Sirius lasted a decade or so longer.”

“We…”

“Died,” Potter finished for her. “Kicked the bucket. Shuffled off this mortal coil. Ceased… to exist.”

“Ok,” Lily said, breaking off a small piece of chocolate, before thinking, Screw calories , and took a larger bite. “Our son...?”

“Is an orphan. That’s right.”

The emotion hit her with a wave, and suddenly she knew.

“Harry,” She said, her eyes welling with tears. Potter stared at her, not understanding, his eyes full of concern regardless. He raised a hand tentatively to her cheek, and she didn’t move away. She let him cup her cheek with his warm palm, let him stroke the tears that fell with his thumb. Then, she leaned into his shoulder and sobbed quietly, thinking about the boy who couldn’t sleep. Who felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. Who laughed without abandon thinking about Thumper as a fitting nickname. Her son, who was all alone, and had been, since he was a baby.

Lily sat upright, wiping away her tears. “When can we cross over?” She asked.

“To the afterlife?” Potter asked, his eyes wide.

She rolled hers. “No, you idiot. To the future.”

“Dumbledore said—”

Crossing her arms over her chest, “I don’t care what Dumbledore said. My son is alone, Hogwarts needs help, and I’m going to die in a few years. So, sod it all, I’m going to go to the future.” She jutted out her chin. “Are you going to stop me, or are you coming with?”

Potter paused, then, his wary smile turned luminous. “Lily Evans, I’d go anywhere with you.”

And, Godric help her because, at the sight of that smile, Lily almost fainted again.

🜃🝥🝮

They drew up the plan with not a small amount of resistance from their Headmaster. Lily hated to admit it, but it all would have fallen apart had it not been for Potter.

“Hogwarts needs us,” Potter had said. “Hogwarts needs us ,” He emphasized, gesturing between the four chosen ones. “I didn’t see your magical signature keyed into the crack, Professor. Why do you think you get a say in whether or not we leave?”

To which, Lily again fought back the beating of her heart that raced at his defiance. Curse my authority-defying kink , she scolded herself.

Finally, the Headmaster, in consultation with Future Headmistress McGonagall (at least the three marauders plus Lily weren’t the only ones with sad dead news), came up with the terms of their visit.

One, Lily would be sent first as a scout. Potter and Sirius objected loudly at this; both of them had volunteered. However, as Lily had already connected with both Harry and Thumper (Draco, apparently, though Lily had yet to transfer names in her mind), it made more sense for her to visit before the rest.

Two, all of them had to consent to return. Tempted as they might be to stay in the future, given their untimely deaths, their binding word to return had to be submitted.

Three, all of them had to wear contraception charm bracelets. For self-explanatory reasons, this constraint was introduced and accepted with limited explanation, minimal eye contact, and not a small amount of blushing.

Four, and one of the hardest conditions to meet, was that of maintaining secrecy. Logistically, it was a bit of a nightmare. During the visit, the Room needed to be blocked from all visitors, so no one could accidentally wander in and speak through the crack. However, the Room had never been blocked before (Hogwarts had a mind of its own, literally, and some of its secrets had yet to be understood). Ultimately, they went with a non-magical solution: assigning Hagrid to stay in the room for the duration of the visit to keep out unwanted guests. He was a bit grumpy about being stuck indoors, but otherwise fine with the assignment after learning of its importance.

Additionally, Professor Dumbledore had to scan for traces of rift residue; apparently, anyone who had come in close contact with it held some faint signs of the connection. Having found only a few sources they didn’t know about (mostly Lily’s roommates, who had never spoken to anyone on the other side, but had lived in the dorm with the fissure, plus one student who had thrown away a box of his ex-girlfriend’s belongings in the Room of Hidden things after the crack had moved), Dumbledore erased their memories of the crevice with ease.

But the hardest pill to swallow was the obliviation all travelers would undergo. All past parties with knowledge of the crack, Professor Dumbledore and Peter Pettigrew included, had to consent to having their minds erased of all future knowledge. That meant, upon returning to  the past, Lily and Potter would lose all memories of their son.

Potter seemed the most put out by the condition, until Lily placed her hand on his shoulder. “He’ll carry our memories forward, James. That has to be enough.”

Whether it was the sentiment, or having used his first name, Potter had ultimately nodded and agreed.

All that was left was a few last minute tests from the Headmaster, communicating the plan to Future McGonagall, and for Lily to take the first leap.

🜃🝥🝮

Potter, Sirius, and Remus met Lily at the Room of Requirement for the send off. Professor Dumbledore was there, of course, all calm and confident, while Hagrid watched nervously in the corner.

“She’ll be safe?” Potter asked, not for the first time.

Patiently, the Headmaster reassured him, “No one is ever 100% safe, but I would take this jump if I were allowed.”

Potter nodded, but kept his wand at the ready. How he might endeavor to save Lily, she didn’t know, but her face flushed with the concern nonetheless.

“Are you ready?” Professor Dumbledore asked.

Lily nodded, shouldering her bag of supplies. She looked at the wall, at the shape of the split she’d come to know like the palm of her hand. She considered what would greet her: a broken Hogwarts, a friend she’d never met, a son she wouldn’t remember, and a mission she must complete.

Taking a deep breath, Lily steeled her body for the journey. Flashbacks of Platform 9 ¾ crossed her memories, and, with a running start, she barreled head first into the future.

Chapter Text

Lily

Lily broke through the barrier, gasping on the other side. Much like her first trip to the Hogwarts Express, she felt the residual magic prickle, like a limb waking up.

She surveyed the room to catch her bearings, her eyes instantly falling on a black thatch of hair she’d recognize anywhere, despite it being almost the length of Sirius’s and pulled back in a bun. The man (her son!) had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes stuck solidly on the floor. Flanking him were two strangers: a tall redheaded man with a friendly but wary face, and a bushy haired girl with intelligent eyes. Hermione , her brain knew instantly. In the center of the room stood Professor McGonagall, older but still formidable; she gave Lily a friendly smile. Then, Lily finally laid eyes on her wall-buddy.

“Thumper!” Lily called out, crossing the room to him in a second. He reached out a hand for her to shake, but she swatted it away and pulled him into a hug. Pulling back, she gave him a not-so-subtle looking over, then punched his arm. “You skunk! You didn’t tell me you were hot.”

His eyes bulged and a blush ran up his face. Lily heard a sputter from across the room, and turned to see the red haired man coughing into his hand; Hermione gently patted his back with an exasperated expression. Harry, she noticed, had turned his gaze away from Lily’s embrace with Thumper, though he couldn’t hide the faint hint of a smirk that was all James Potter. Curious , she thought.

“It’s Draco, actually. Draco Malfoy,” Thumper (Draco) said in a more reserved voice than he normally used.

Lily sighed, “I know . Professor Dumbledore told me. It’s going to take some getting used to, you being a Malfoy. I knew your father, you know; he’s a bit of a prick.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “Just a bit?”

Lily grinned; somehow, he was just like and the total opposite of what she’d imagined. Still witty and sharp, but damn , he wore the combination of Lucius and Narcissa well. He had all of her delicate features, more bold in their masculine manifestation, but with Lucius’s presence. Hate or love the guy (and most chose the former), Lucius Malfoy knew how to hold a room in his attention.

A throat cleared in the center of the room; Professor, no— Headmistress McGonagall.

“Miss Evans, a pleasure to see you again and welcome you to 1998. Should you be announcing your arrival to your companions?” The Headmistress suggested.

“Of course,” Lily smiled, and turned back to the wall. “All right over there?”

“Miss Evans,” Professor Dumbledore spoke from the past. “I assume you are well?”

“Just peachy, Headmaster. I suppose you can send over the rest of the group.”

Seconds later, Potter emerged, followed shortly by Sirius, then Remus, all wearing their own backpacks.

“Uncanny,” Draco said, staring at Potter. “They really are almost twins."

“You’re one to talk, mini-Malfoy,” Sirius replied, and Draco frowned.

Remus grasped Sirius’s shoulder, then turned to the trio who had, aside from the brief coughing spree, remained silent through these arrivals. “Hello, there,” Remus smiled.

Hermione smiled back, albeit with a mark of sadness. “Hello, Remus.”

His eyes widened, “You know me.” Hermione and the redhead exchanged glances, Harry had returned his stare to the floor.

Nodding, Hermione said, “I’m Hermione Granger. This,” She elbowed the ginger, “Is Ronald Weasley.”

“Ah,” Sirius beamed. “A Weasley!” He pointed at his own hair. “I should have guessed.”

Ignoring his outburst, Hermione continued. “And, this is Harry Potter.” As if he needed an introduction.

Finally, Harry raised his eyes to capture Lily’s. The force of it nearly knocked her breathless. If Draco had presence, Harry had gravity . It was strange to see her own eyes in Potter’s face, especially considering the intensity with which he held her gaze. For a brief moment, only the two of them existed in the whole universe. 

She’d never felt anything like it, but she instantly loved him with all her soul.

“Harry,” She breathed, and took a step forward.

“Please,” He begged, raising a hand, his voice strained. Though it broke her heart to do so, Lily stopped her advance. She already knew she’d do anything for him, even if it meant holding back.

Instead, she turned to her companions, ignoring Potter’s worried face. “Of course, you all know the boys,” She laughed. “No need for introductions there…” The longer they stood in the Room, the more awkward things felt. There was a stale quality to the air that seemed incongruous to its appearance.

“Well,” Professor McGonagall clapped her hands. “You aren’t here for a vacation; you’re here to work. Mr. Potter—Harry, please show the other Mr. Potter, Mr. Lupin, and Mr. Black their accommodations. Miss Granger, please escort Miss Evans to hers.”

Lily looked at Draco, “Can’t Draco come as well?”

“To the girl’s lodgings?” Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow. “No, I don’t think he shall.”

Draco squeezed Lily’s wrist. “We’ll catch up later. It’s good to finally meet you.” Then, he swept out of the Room before anyone could stop him.

“Good at dramatic exits, isn’t he?” Sirius quipped.

“Trust me,” Ron said. “It’s his dramatic entrances you need to worry about.”

Professor McGonagall tutted. “Mr. Weasley, you’ll refrain from such references. Do you understand me?”

Ron gave a sheepish look. “Sorry, Headmistress.”

She nodded, then scanned the room. “Well? What are you waiting for? Put your things away, then meet back at the Entrance Hall in 20 minutes. Chop chop. There’s work to be done.”

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

With a slight head jerk, he beckoned his father, his godfather, and his godson’s father out of the room ( Like the beginning of a bad joke , his brain attempted levity). Hermione and Ron stayed behind; likely to double check their work assignments with Minerva. Draco, of course, had his assignment: the Room. Always, the Room.

“I don’t understand why we need baby Potter to escort us to the Gryffindorms,” Sirius not-exactly-whispered to Remus.

“Not going to Gryffindor Tower,” Harry corrected. “And don’t call me baby Potter.”

Which was a mistake, and Harry knew it. He didn’t know Sirius at 18, but even post-Azkaban, revenge-stricken, guilt-ridden Sirius wouldn’t have let that challenge slide.

“Then what shall we call you?” Sirius started, the glee layered on his voice. It almost hurt how light Sirius was, given who he was destined to become. “Little Prongs? Potter Jr.? Green-Eyed James? Potter-Evans Love-Child?”

“How about Harry?” He tried, with no enthusiasm. He’d walk out of this conversation with a nickname Sirius invented; Harry was sure of that.

“No, no,” Sirius dismissed this notion swiftly. “What’s your animagus form? Or your patronus? Perhaps we’ll find inspiration there?”

“Not an animagus,” Harry replied. He was almost tempted to suggest Scarhead, just to get this over with.

“I notice you didn’t mention your patronus. Haven’t manifested one yet? That’s all right, Prongs here didn’t cast his first one until fifth year, and it took Moony and me until sixth.”

Somehow, this rubbed Harry the wrong way, and he couldn’t resist spinning around to correct him. “I cast my first patronus at 13, saving you from a Dementor’s Kiss.” Gesturing toward Remus with his chin, “Remus taught me.”

Then, he turned back around, not waiting for a reaction. “It’s a stag, since you were wondering.”

They walked in silence until they reached the first floor, turning away from the main castle and toward the Forbidden Forest.

“Are we staying outside?” Remus asked, and Harry nodded.

“Can’t stay inside the castle; it’s not safe.”

“It’s not…” 

Harry groaned. He’d forgotten about the glamours Minerva had raised to avoid startling the newcomers. 

He spun around once more and cast the wordless counterspell. When the Marauders continued to stare at Harry in confusion, he pointed back over their shoulders. In an instant, the boys saw the glamour fall. No longer did the halls of Hogwarts look like what the visitors expected. Instead, the once proud towers appeared moth-eaten and leaning; the Clocktower was no longer there at all. The roof had completely caved in over the Great Hall. Strewn around the castle were remnants of stone and brick that had yet to be reassembled.

“What happened?” James whispered, the first words he’d spoken to his son.

Harry noted his father’s slight recoil when Harry looked him in the eye. “War,” Harry said, then turned back around.

The line of residence tents appeared on the horizon, just shy of what was left of the Quidditch Pitch. Neville looked up from his reading, eyes growing at the sight of the not-so-strangers.

“Professor Lupin!” He said, and Harry shook his head. “Sorry,” Neville apologized, before hurrying off to the greenhouse.

“Who was that?” Remus asked, watching the rapid retreat.

“A friend,” Harry replied. Minerva had asked that they keep the Marauders from the broader work population. If the Prophet found out about the time travelers...

“Sir Harry of the Land of Pith,” Sirius started back on the nickname train. “He of the Curt Responses.”

Despite all efforts not to, Harry laughed.

“He laughs!” Sirius raced in front of Harry, dancing with joy, his arms in the air. “He emotes! My word, he is human after all!”

That stopped the chuckle in Harry’s throat. He swallowed.

“Oh dear, we’ve lost him again,” Sirius frowned. Harry shook his head, trying to erase the memory of when he believed Sirius could do anything, save Harry from anyone.

“Here’s where you’ll be sleeping,” Harry said, pointing out a tent they’d set aside for their guests. 

Sirius bounded inside ahead of him, grabbing one of the beds and pulling it next to another. “Here, Moony. Let’s share.”

Harry couldn’t help the quick turn of his head to examine Remus’s expression: slightly red, but pleased. Huh. That certainly explains a few things , Harry thought, thinking back to what he’d found cleaning out Sirius’s room, before Harry had come to help with Hogwarts repairs.

Schooling his face into indifference, he moved as if to leave. But his father, James , stopped him. “There are four beds in here, are you meant to stay with us?”

“Meant to, but I won’t,” Harry replied.

“Too cool to bunk with your old man?” James smirked, but there was an insecurity there.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t sleep.”

James blinked. “What do you mean, you don’t sleep?” He ruffled his hair, and it made Harry’s heart ache. So much for nurture over nature, Harry’s brain remarked. “Everyone sleeps,” James pleaded.

Shrugging, “Not me.” He cleared his throat. “Ten minutes. I’ll let you get settled; meet me outside the tent when you’re done.”

When he was far enough past the tent’s entrance to feel safe, Harry looked down at his hands, which were shaking. He balled them into fists, then shoved them in his pockets. And he waited for everyone he’d loved and lost to come find him once more.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

After Hermione and Ron spoke privately with Professor McGonagall, Hermione gestured for Lily to follow her. They left a few minutes after the boys, but Lily failed to catch more than a few brief glimpses of them out in front.

“So,” Lily started, unsure of what to say.

“So,” Hermione smiled. “Is it weird?”

“What,” Lily raised an eyebrow. “Meeting my son I left an orphan? Helping rebuild Hogwarts from a war I won’t live to see? Learning my new best friend is a Malfoy ? Or wanting to befriend a clever witch based on one overheard conversation through a crack in space and time?”

Hermione laughed, “Any of those, sure. All of them? Definitely.” Then, “What conversation did you overhear?”

“You telling Harry to sleep,” Lily frowned. “He didn’t tell you?”

Shaking her head, “Harry’s a bit reserved these days.”

“ That’s an understatement,” Lily smirked. “He seems…” There wasn’t a word for it, so Lily settled on, “Sad.”

Hermione sighed. “We all are. Things haven’t been… well. Just look at Hogwarts. Oh!” Hermione exclaimed. “Sorry, you can’t— Finite Incantatem .” She spelled.

Suddenly, the walls around her lost their luster. Some disappeared altogether. Rocks, stones, and—oh god was that blood?—littered the pathway.

“Holy shit,” Lily said, whirling around to catalog the damage from all sides. “You weren’t joking.”

“Definitely not, and nothing we’ve done has been able to repair the damage. We’ve used every spell we can think of, but the best we can do is fix things for a day, then wake up to everything looking exactly as it did before,” Hermione choked a little on the last word.

Lily placed a hand on Hermione’s shoulder. “If it helps to talk about it, I’m here.”

Hermione whipped her head to Lily, taking in her expression with a slight head shake. “Godric, who he’d be if he’d had you as a mother.”

Bowing her head, Lily murmured, “He did, technically.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione breathed. “That was unfair. It’s just… he’s so good, you know? He’s so good and yet he’s never had anything good. Imagine someone who, having been raised without love, chose to sacrifice themselves for the good of all wizarding kind. What would someone like that accomplish if they were given love to begin with?”

With a wry smile, “I imagine they might not have sacrificed themselves so easily in the first place.”

“Hmm,” Hermione replied, the wheels of her brain turning so loudly Lily could almost hear them. Then, her eyes focused on a line of tents near the owlery. “Here we are. The boys are over by the Quidditch Pitch.” Rolling her eyes, “Heaven forbid they give the game up even in the face of a crumbling Hogwarts.”

Lily laughed, “I knew it, Hermione. You and I are going to be fast friends.”

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

“It’s weird,” Ron said, looking over at the table where Lily and Draco laughed over breakfast.

Harry shrugged. If only Ron knew half of it...

“It’s good,” Hermione argued. “She’s Muggle-born, and he’s, you know, a recovering wizard nazi. If she can forgive him, maybe there’s a path forward for all of us, free from prejudice.”

Shrugging again, Harry replied, “If we don’t hate each other for our blood, we’ll hate each other for our hair color. People will always find a reason to judge others for no good reason, wizard or not.”

“So defeatist, mini-Prongs,” Sirius said, taking the empty seat beside him. Harry hated how charmed he was by teenage Sirius; it was just his luck they’d been paired for work duty. Remus took the spot next to Hermione; they were paired as well. James, on the other hand, took the other spare seat next to Harry, opposite from Ron, his partner. 

The seat also had a direct view to Lily, Harry noted.

Oh good , his brain taunted. A father-son bonding experience: two Potters, eyeing their prey.

Harry tore his eyes away from his mother and his crush, wondering not for the first time what they talked about. Half of him wished desperately it was him, the other half would rather die than admit it.

Of course, been there, done that.

He let out a low chuckle.

“He laughs!” Sirius proclaimed. Which was amusing the first time. But the tenth? 

“You don’t need to point it out every single time,” Harry scolded.

Spearing a sausage, Sirius retorted, “It’s not like I’m at risk of losing my breath announcing it, you laugh so rarely.”

“Sirius,” Remus warned, and Harry wondered how that all played out. If Sirius liked being mothered by Remus. If Remus liked mothering him. Though, he’d heard of weirder kinks.

“What?” Sirius asked, all wide-eyed and playing innocent.

The two of them started some weird flirting game over breakfast meats, and Harry returned his attention to Lily and Draco.

His father, Harry noted, had never given up the watch.

Hermione followed Harry’s gaze and misjudged its aim. “Talk to her, Harry.”

James snapped his attention to Harry. Oh now you’re interested in talking to me , the sensitive part of Harry mocked. The other part, the most-of-him part, started to sweat under the attention.

“What’s the point?” Harry said, standing up, most of his breakfast uneaten. “They’re all leaving soon, anyways.”

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

A commotion at the table full of Marauders caught Lily’s attention. She watched Harry storm out of the makeshift mess hall.

“Did he even finish his breakfast?” Lily asked.

Draco scoffed. “I’m surprised he even showed up at all.”

Glancing at the table, Lily noticed Draco’s breakfast was similarly unfinished. “Eat,” She commanded, shoving his plate closer to him.

“ Yes, mom ,” Draco joked.

She scowled. “Very funny.” Then, she caught a wave of inspiration. “You know, something just occurred to me,” Lily said.

“What is that?” He replied, pushing his eggs around his plate with disinterest.

“You have a crush on my son.”

His eyes snapped up. “Stop.”

“You, Draco Malfoy, have a crush on my son .” She grinned, then fluttered her eyelashes. “Tell me, is it difficult, looking into my eyes? Do you see only his?”

“You’re insufferable,” He smiled.

“Oh, am I?” She pouted. “Isn’t insufferable just your type? Are you... Draco, are you questioning your sexuality again ? Do you need to confess something to me?”

“ No ,” He looked up at the ceiling, trying to hide his amusement. “I am still perfectly gay.” He turned his gaze to the staring Marauders. “If anything, you should worry about me stealing your crush.”

That shut her up. “What?”

“Oh Merlin,” He laughed. “You should see your face right now.”

She shoved his arm. “ Stop .”

“You can dish it but you can’t take it?” He joked. A group of students walked by, giving Draco a nasty glare. The encounter knocked his smile straight off.

“Draco, don’t let them get to you,” She whispered, leaning in.

“They have every right to hate me,” He said. “Hell, I hate me.”

Sighing, “Come on. Walk me to our assignment. Tell me every reason you’ve invented to support this level of self-loathing.”

And, to her surprise, he did.

Hours later, the two of them were screaming over the charred remains of items long abandoned. Between shouts of Scourgify that seemed to do nothing for the burn marks on the Room’s walls, Lily and Draco argued the finer points of forgiveness.

“You were a child , Draco! You can hardly be held accountable for your actions.”

“My actions led to people’s deaths , Lily! Show me an age where that starts mattering.”

“Eighteen! See, done and done. Next point?”

A slow clap rose from the entryway where Harry leaned against the door frame, his face lighter than Lily’d seen since she arrived.

“Don’t stop on my account,” He smiled. “That was some O-level debating.”

Tempting fate, she asked, “So? Care to be our judge? Should Draco wallow in self-pity forever, or can he be allowed to forgive himself and move forward?”

Draco seemed torn between a huff and an expletive. He could probably pull off some combination of the two, if he tried hard enough.

Harry shrugged. “I’m hardly objective when it comes to self-pity.”

“Self awareness?” Draco teased, recovering from his earlier indignation. “From the Saviour? Well, I never.”

Glaring, “Because of that, I will render judgement. If you’ll still have it.”

“Please,” Lily begged.

He tapped his index finger on his jaw, as if debating, though clearly he’d long known what he wanted to say. Draco, on the other hand, formed a rigid line with his body from toenail to towhead, waiting for Harry’s verdict.

Finally, “Lily’s point holds the most weight. Draco was a child, in a tough spot. If I’d had a family under the same level of duress, I might have made the same choices.” Lily heard Draco’s quiet release of breath, and though Harry spoke in answer to Lily’s question, his eyes never left Draco’s. “Besides, I forgave him a long time ago. Seems only fair he should forgive himself.”

Harry pulled himself off the doorway. “Come on, lunch is ready.”

Then, he turned and walked away.

“Well, well,” Lily said, turning to Draco. She stretched, her muscles aching from hard work with no discernable result. “Godric, it feels good to be right.”

Having no response that would allow his continued pity party, Draco instead stuck his tongue out at Lily.

“Oh very mature,” She replied, pushing him toward the Room’s exit. “Now let’s go put some meat on your bones and discuss the fact that my son thinks you should forgive yourself.”

Following Draco out of the room, she took a second to glance back, surveying their progress. Strangely, though minutes earlier she would have sworn their efforts had made no measurable difference, Lily thought she could start to see the wallpaper from beneath the Fiendfyre scorches.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

After another meal half-eaten and barely tasted, Harry escorted Sirius to the Quidditch Pitch. While they worked to raise the stands and repair the streamers, Harry ventured out past his comfort zone.

“You and Remus, huh?” He started.

Sirius let out a low chuckle. “You may be the spitting image of your father, but you’re all Lily inside. She’s always been shockingly perceptive as well.”

Harry paused in his spellcasting to stare down Sirius. “You pushed the beds together when I took you to the tent. It was hardly subtle.” He returned to casting, “Plus, I cleaned your childhood bedroom. Found all sorts of incriminating evidence in there.”

“So, you went to Grimmauld Place?” Sirius exaggerated a shudder. “How did that come about?”

“We used it as a safe house for the Order, then Ron, Hermione and I stayed there while on the run from Voldemort last year. I cleared it out before coming to Hogwarts this summer.” He paused. “You left it to me when you died. Felt only right to clean it up.”

Sirius scoffed. “If you wanted to deliver me a fitting tribute, you would have burned it down.”

Harry’s grip on one of the stands faltered. Catching the slip, Sirius sighed. “I’m sorry; that was rude. I’m sure the Sirius I become would have understood the gesture.” Sending him a cheeky grin, “The Sirius I am today is hardly serious at all.”

Groaning, “Don’t. If you start making Sirius/serious jokes, I may wish you dead. Again.”

Sirius clasped a hand to his chest, as if wounded. “Ah! He strikes!” Laughing, “I like morbid-Harry. He can stay.”

Harry shook his head. He was learning he could never anticipate Sirius’s remarks. For a second, he wondered about a life where Sirius had raised him, instead of the Dursely’s. Would he have been more resilient in the face of scrutiny, armed with an ability to laugh it off?

“How did you know?” Harry asked, changing the topic outside and inside his head.

“How did I—” Sirius looked over. “ Oh . That.” He shrugged. “Well, I suspected at a young age, but, being a pure-blood, such thoughts were strictly verboten . Hence the Muggle posters permanently stuck to my wall; both a fuck-you to my family, and a cover for what I really felt.”

It was easy enough to conjure images of the scantily-clad women decorating Sirius’s bedroom walls. He’d basically plastered the whole room with them.

“Luckily, I ran away before they had a chance to discover my secret. If they’d found out…” This time, Sirius’s shudder was more reactionary than intentional. “Why do you ask?”

Harry gave Sirius an unimpressed eyebrow raise.

“Ah,” Sirius responded with a double eyebrow raise of his own. “So you’re—”

“Bi,” Harry finished for him. “Or, something like that. I haven’t had a lot of time to research labels. I like the person regardless of the wrapping, you could say.”

Sirius nodded. “Remus is like that. It’s just like him to be so enlightened and open-minded. Me? I just had to be picky and contrary all at the same time.” 

They continued to work in silence for a few minutes, before Sirius broke. “Your father won’t care, if that’s what you’re worried about. Neither would your mother, for that matter.” He grinned. “She’s basically the reason Remus and I got together in the first place.”

“I’m not worried about James or Lily,” Harry said, though secretly he was pleased to hear this. It had crossed his mind, when he first admitted his sexuality to himself, Would my parents approve?

“Ron and Hermione?”

Harry laughed. “I suspect they knew long before I did. No, it’s more about what the whole world would say.”

“And the whole world cares?”

Scoffing, “Walk with me once in Diagon Alley, and I’ll prove it to you.”

Sirius frowned. “Does it matter to you? What everyone else thinks?”

Harry paused in his work, taking a deep breath. He knew Sirius didn’t mean anything by the question, but it rankled him just the same. He doesn’t know you , Harry reminded himself, but that just made it worse. Because there was a Sirius who knew him, a Sirius who was gone, like this one soon would be, and...

“I need to take a break,” Harry announced, suddenly finding his breath hard to catch.

Sirius glanced over, and dropped the banner he was lifting to the top of the stands. The red pennant with a Lion’s face fluttered as it fell, before crashing into pieces on the ground below.

“Harry, come here.”

Harry followed the order.

“Place your hand on my chest, and look into my eyes.”

Harry placed, and looked. 

Sirius mimicked the action, and started to breathe in and out in an exaggerated fashion. “Do as I do,” Sirius commanded, and Harry, again, found the order easy to follow. After a few minutes of this, he felt calmer, and more grounded.

“Better?” Sirius asked in a soothing register.

Harry nodded. “How did you know to do that?”

With a smirk, “What, you think you hold the exclusive rights on trauma?”

Dropping his chin to his chest, Harry laughed. “I should have guessed as much. I’ve met your mother’s portrait, after all.”

“Oh Godric, I’d almost forgotten about that. However can you live with her?”

Harry looked up at his godfather. “I bet you’d love to hear about the Walburga drinking game George Weasley invented.”

When Sirius’s eyes lit up, Harry explained the rules.

Wiping the tears of laughter the description of the game caused, Sirius said, “That game’s so good, I’m almost tempted to visit Grimmauld Place and try it out myself.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow.

“I said almost!” Sirius laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Chuckling, Harry turned back to the work they’d neglected with their joking. He frowned, seeing the Lion banner proudly displayed at the top of the newly reconstructed Gryffindor stands. “Did you repair and replace the Lion pendant?” Harry asked.

Sirius followed his line of vision, replicating Harry’s frown. “Not that I recall.”

Harry shrugged. He wasn’t sleeping or eating regularly these days; it was very likely he’d fixed the damn thing himself and forgotten. The two of them examined their work, then the position of the sun in the sky, and decided to call it quits for the day.

🜃🝥🝮

At breakfast the next morning, Minerva opened with an announcement.

“I’m pleased to share with you that several of our repair designations kept their improvements from yesterday.”

Before she could name the locations, the workers stood in their excitement, clapping each other on the backs and wrapping arms around each other to celebrate. Minerva held up a hand, and the ruckus quietened.

“May I see Mr. and Mr. Potter, Miss Evans, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Lupin, Miss Granger and Mr. Black?”

“She’s got to come up with a shorter name for us,” Sirius fake-whispered to Remus. Then, to Harry, “Potter-son, you’re the King of Pith, what should ole Minnie call us?”

“Annoying,” Harry smirked, and he didn’t miss the look Hermione gave Ron. He cursed internally. He’d be hearing about that later.

The group followed Minerva to her office tent, and crowded inside.

She started, “You may have guessed by my singling you out that it was your assigned locations where repairs remained overnight.” Sighing, “Albus’s theory has been proved correct. For some reason, Hogwarts cannot repair itself without your unique assistance. I was hoping one or more of you might have some clue as to why that is?”

They looked among themselves, but no one seemed to have an idea.

“Was there anything unique about your conversations yesterday?”

“I spoke with my dead godfather,” Harry deadpanned.

“Potter forgave me,” Draco added.

“Remus taught me a Wizarding work song,” Hermione offered.

“I touched Harry’s chest,” Sirius joked.

Minerva looked unimpressed.

“Can we admit that nothing about yesterday was normal in the slightest?” Ron asked, and the whole room nodded their approval.

“Fine,” Minerva said. “Point taken. To test the limits, I’d like to switch partners for the day, and every day moving forward until we’ve tried all combinations between you all.”

“That’ll take weeks,” Hermione pointed out.

Minerva raised an eyebrow. “Have you got somewhere important to go?”

Lily shifted in her stance. “Well, as much as I’m enjoying meeting my son and friend, who I’ll promptly forget as soon as we’re done here, I would hate to miss so many lessons it threatens my N.E.W.T.S.” 

Hermione and Remus nodded their approval.

Groaning, “Hogwarts is in ruins!” Ron asked. “Who cares about N.E.W.T.S?”

“I care!” Hermione and Lily called out at the same time, and Harry didn’t even try to stifle his laugh.

“What?” He said, at Ron’s glare. “It’s funny!”

Sirius beamed at Harry. Even Minerva seemed pleased with his levity. Harry groaned internally again. This had turned away from a brief mention; if he displayed any more happiness, Hermione was going to start researching .

Eventually, Minerva announced the new partners: Draco with James (which made Lily wink at Draco, a disconcerting image for Harry), Hermione with Sirius, Ron with Lily, and Harry with Remus. Harry couldn’t help his sigh of relief; he wasn’t ready to be alone with either of his parents. Leaning in, Sirius warned, “Hands off my boyfriend.” But his smile betrayed the true sentiment.

“Don’t worry,” Harry whispered back. “He’s not my type.” Then, he winked.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

Partnering with Ron in the Great Hall was a disaster. The boy had last seen his dead brother in there; the poor thing could barely speak for all the tears he held back.

Finally, Lily gave up on forcing work out of them. “Just, come here,” She said, opening her arms, and Ron ugly cried on her shoulder. The whole hiccuping with the accompanying snot bubble was not a good look for the Weasley.

Eventually, he calmed down enough to manage a choked, “Thanks,” followed by a, “Don’t tell Hermione; she has enough to worry about.”

Lily gave him a questioning stare, and Ron blushed. “She’s… we’re… it’s complicated.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Lily smiled, and Ron dropped his gaze.

“It’s just, hard. Thinking about stuff like that. Letting yourself think about stuff like that, given what we’ve seen.”

Shrugging, Lily said, “I would think it the opposite, actually. Given the destruction you’ve witnessed, why wouldn’t you be drawn to love? Love builds, even on foundations you’d think were destroyed without hope of repair.”

The two of them looked at each other. “Oh Merlin,” They said at the same time, before running over each other to find Professor McGonagall.

“Headmistress!” Lily called out when they found her in the courtyard.

“We’ve solved it!” Ron added.

The Headmistress took pity on their breathless exclamations, gesturing for them to sit and calm down. Ron got there first.

“It’s love,” He said, to her curious gaze. “Something Lily said… Love can build on damaged foundations.”

“Something like that,” Lily blushed, under Professor McGonagall’s impressed nod.

“I’d suspected that was the case, but I’m glad you see it too,” She said. 

“Oh,” Ron replied, seeming deflated not to have discovered the key to fixing Hogwarts they’d both hoped would turn repairs around overnight.

With her kind smile, the Headmistress added, “It was, of course, still an important discovery. Did you happen to look at the Great Hall, after you’d made it?”

Ron and Lily looked at each other, and, without a word to McGonagall, dashed back to the Hall. Sliding through it’s double doors, they looked around. Though the two of them had barely cast anything, most of the windows had been repaired, and half of the roof was restored.

“Wow,” Ron said, and the Headmistress joined them.

“Whatever you two discussed, it had a rather transformative effect. This may be the most dramatic repair work I’ve seen yet,” Professor McGonagall remarked.

“I have to go,” Ron said, turning toward Lily. “I need to find Hermione.”

Lily nodded, “Go.”

He ran out of the room; Lily envied his stamina. She turned, and found the Headmistress raising an eyebrow in question.

“He loves Hermione, and he needs to tell her,” Lily explained.

The other eyebrow flew up to join the first. “Oh!” The Professor exclaimed, then coughed. “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but, yes. That’d do it.”

“Do what, Headmistress?”

“I’d assumed that forging friendships across the two time periods would encourage repairs, but it never occurred to me that what Hogwarts sought could be found even among just one time period. But, when you think about it, it makes sense.”

Lily waited for her to continue.

“In May, Hogwarts saw the worst of what the Wizarding World had to offer. It stands to reason that what could cure it would come from the best of us: our love for one another.” Shaking her head, “Still, I can’t understand why she would need to pull from your time period in order to make it so. Couldn’t Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley have connected without putting you through the misery of meeting your son, and having him meet you, only to have the relationship ripped from both of you at the end?”

Speechless. Lily was speechless.

“Did you think me inhuman, Miss Evans?” Professor McGonagall smirked. “I may have been a professor for a very long time, but I never stop caring about my charges. What you and your son have been through… let’s just say only you may root for your son’s happy ending more than me. And it’s a close second.”

Lily smiled. “I’m glad he had you looking out for him, since I couldn’t.”

The Headmistress looked out into the Hall. “Miss Evans… I tried. It’s not fair to lay this burden on you, even if you’re meant to forget it. But I feel the whole of the Wizarding World has done your son a great disservice, whereas he has only ever placed its well-being over his, time and time again.” Turning back to her, “I shouldn’t ask you this, but I fear you may be our only hope. Please, convince Harry to live.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” Lily said, although she suspected, somewhere deep inside where it scared her to look, she did.

When the two of them left the Hall, Lily noted that now all of the windows had been repaired. The Headmistress, though not keyed with her magical signature into the crack, appeared to be just as connected to Hogwarts’ goals as the rest of the group.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

For the rest of the week, partners kept switching, and repairs steadily took root. All except for any rooms assigned to Harry. 

Despite his initial progress with Sirius, Harry couldn’t seem to make any of his fixes stick. He’d worked with Lily (she tried desperately to get him to talk, with no results), James (they stuck to Quidditch, which helped minimize the awkwardness, but offered no assistance in repair stabilization), Ron (all he did was babble on about how much he loved Hermione), and Hermione (who varied between blushing about Ron and worrying about whether she should be taking N.E.W.T.S prep courses by correspondence).

All that was left, was Draco.

In his tour of finding a place where he could actually sleep, Harry managed a brief hour of respite in the Herbology Greenhouse. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he wondered if he should try the Room of Requirement again. After all, the night of rest he’d once experienced there was the last time he’d slept for longer than three hours.

Avoiding the communal baths, Harry went instead to the Great Lake, rinsing his face with the cold, refreshing water. He leaned back on his elbows, and watched the tentacles of the Giant Squid fling water in a haphazard, but artful pattern. 

“He misses impressing the first years, doesn’t he?” A voice said from beside Harry. His mother. Lily .

“Good morning,” He offered in a gruff voice.

“It’s pretty out here at sunrise, isn’t it?” She said, copying his posture.

He sighed. “Nothing to repair out here, Lily. No sense in wasting words.”

She looked at him, her gaze set to scan as if she could unravel all of his secrets if she just stared hard enough. “You sure about that?” She asked.

Instead of answering, he went to breakfast.

A slice or two of toast later, Harry drug his feet up to the Room of Requirement. Its entryway remained open always, a gift considering the scent of smoke still lingered within its confines.

Draco had beaten him there. “So?” He said, seated, leaning against the side wall, arms draped over folded legs. “Shall we forgo work and stick to heart-to-hearts? That’s what we’re meant to do now, isn’t it?”

Harry looked around the Room; he noticed that, since the initial progress with Lily, the Room hadn’t changed much. Apparently Harry wasn’t the only one stalled in moving forward.

“Difficulty opening up?” Harry smirked. “What’s that like?”

Draco smiled, and one of the racks of discarded items suddenly warped into brand new.

“Salazar help me,” Draco moaned. “The Saviour strikes again.”

Then, the rack flickered briefly into its previous charred mess, before returning to its newly restored self.

“I think you’re supposed to be nice and smile at me,” Harry said. “Thus the Room commanded.”

Draco sighed, “You’ve been spending too much time with Sirius.”

“I’ve been spending too much time with everyone.”

“Not with me,” Draco muttered.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Is that something you’d want?”

Draco glared. “Potter, since the first time my governess told me a bedtime story about Harry Potter, that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Several rows popped into fresh versions of themselves. Draco dropped his head in his hands and groaned, “This is going to be so embarrassing. It’s like an emotional boner; I couldn’t hide it if I tried.”

Harry laughed, and another row fixed itself. “Look, Draco, it goes both ways.” 

Venturing a peek, Draco examined the newly fixed row, and frowned. “Only one? My confession warranted three.”

“There!” Harry smiled. “Make it a competition; then you won’t feel so embarrassed.”

Draco shook his head. “Not likely.”

Sighing, Harry plopped down on the ground beside Draco, bumping their shoulders together. “You’re not the only one who wants to be friends.”

“Really?” Draco drawled. “You want to be friends with the boy who let Death Eaters into Hogwarts?”

Harry shook his head, “No. I want to be friends with the man who feels sorry for doing that.” He trained his eyes on Draco’s. “You do feel sorry, don’t you?”

Grey eyes flared. “Of course I do!”

“Well then,” Harry said, releasing his gaze and leaning back against the wall.

“As simple as that?” Draco asked, surprise in his voice.

Nodding, “As simple as.” Harry looked around the room. “Should we pretend to work now?”

“I suppose,” Draco shrugged.

Harry rose first, then turned to offer Draco a hand. Draco stared at the offering for a second longer than Harry expected, before taking it to stand.

Harry waited until after Draco had walked a safe distance away before trying to shake off the jolt of electricity that lit up his arm at Draco’s touch.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

Lily walked into a rather domestic scene in the Room of Requirement. Harry had found some awful costume: a powdered wig, sequined pink top hat, and faux fur robes, and was reading from a leatherbound book.

“‘And then!’ Listen to this, Draco. ‘And then, Martha Rose fell out of the cupboard and onto Professor Snape’s lap !’”

Draco howled with laughter.

“‘Never mind the fact she was wearing my Quidditch leather bottoms and a leopard print push-up bra, which would have been bad enough, had she not also chosen to don a pair of the Professor’s own spare Potions robes .’”

“Stop.” Draco begged. “Stop! You’re killing me. She was wearing his robes ?”

Harry adjusted his top hat, sending Draco a fond look before reading on, “‘Of course, the Professor assigned us detention until the end of the term. Which meant no Quidditch, though the team hardly missed my sub-par beater skills. Still, it was worth all the detention in the world to spend the next three months of Potions Class wondering if Snape ever adjusted his underwear selection, given the striking combination leopard print made with his green and black robes.’”

“Oh Merlin,” Draco said, wiping the tears from his eyes, finally catching Lily’s gaze. He straightened up, “Lily. Harry was reading to me from a diary of a former student. The stories in it are priceless .”

Harry smiled at Lily, and she noted his eyes lacked the same glow they’d expressed when trained on Draco. Very curious , she noted.

“Love the new look, Harry,” Lily said, and Harry seemed to remember what he’d been wearing. However, he didn’t look embarrassed by the costume.

“Should I wear it to lunch?” He asked, primping his wig. 

Draco frowned, “You should probably take off the wig; it could have lice.”

Without hesitation, Harry threw the hair down, hat and all.

“Joking,” Draco smirked, reaching down to snatch the top hat, placing it atop his own head. “Ah, looks much better on me.”

Harry started to nod, then stopped halfway through the movement.

Lily pretended she hadn’t seen.

“Lunch?” She asked, and the boys moved to remove their costumes.

“You should keep the robes, Potter,” Draco suggested. “They suit you.”

“Only if you keep the top hat,” Harry countered.

Draco smiled. “Game on.”

Harry left the Room first, and Lily wrapped her arm in Draco’s elbow. “That looked cozy,” She teased.

“Don’t,” Draco warned. “I have so little hope these days; if you send mine rising, I fear it lacks enough mass to be pulled back down by the gravity of my reality.”

Lily rolled her eyes, “Drama queen. And you can't see how he looks at you, so blind you are to the possibility. But there’s justification for hope there, if you want it.”

Draco just shook his head, so Lily continued. “Take Remus and Sirius for example.”

Frowning, “What about them?”

“Seriously?” She asked. “You can’t see it? They’re basically married, they’re so into each other.”

“Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are… dating?” Draco’s jaw seemed to be making a valiant attempt to connect with the floor.

Lily nodded. “Watch them at lunch, and tell me when you see it.”

The two of them walked arm-in-arm into the mess hall. Draco gathered more than a few confused stares when they caught eye of the top hat, but one glare from Harry stopped Draco’s hand from removing it. Harry received one compliment after the other on his robes; Lily noted that the attention made his shoulders tense up, and the smile fell from his face. Still, he kept them on. To please Draco , Lily reminded herself.

Instead of sitting on their own, as normal, Draco led Lily to the table of Marauders, past and present. They ate in mostly silence, the past-Marauders sending furtive looks to Remus, which Lily knew meant the full moon was coming up. Remus leaned over Sirius to grab a roll, then, seeing Sirius’s tea had been drained, he refilled it for him, adding milk and sugar the way Sirius liked.

Draco let out a small gasp, then looked at Lily. She nodded, and leaned in, “I saw it before anyone else.” Then, she looked at Harry, who was looking at Draco until their eyes caught, and Harry turned away. Lily raised an eyebrow at Draco, who sat back in his seat, looking stunned and scared all at once.

Lily sighed; she should have waited until after their meal. Now the boy definitely wouldn’t eat.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

Working with Draco after lunch was a play in surrealism. For some reason, the normally graceful boy kept fumbling spells and lapsing into blank stares. At one point, he even dropped his wand.

“Ok, what’s going on with you?” Harry asked.

The sound startled Draco almost out of his skin, he jumped so high. “Nothing! I’m normal.”

“Then how come you just spelled Aguamenti on that clean rug?”

Draco looked down at the sopping wet carpet. “It’s a Persian. They need… water.”

Harry stared. “Yeah. I believe that,” He deadpanned. “You’re perfectly normal.”

“That’s right,” Draco replied, his nose in the air, as he spelled Stupify on the wall.

“And that wall just happened to need Stunning?”

Glancing at the wall, “It was looking at me wrong.”

Harry snorted, and the section of wall with their attention looked a little cleaner. They both sighed at the same time.

“What’s the point?” Draco asked, dropping his wand arm. “Why are we bothering with spells anyways?”

Harry shrugged. “To feel useful?”

“As if you needed a reason.”

“Maybe I did.”

Draco stared at him. “Potter, you ended the war. You are the most useful. ”

“Was, at least.”

Rolling his eyes, “Then maybe revel in your rare uselessness. There are those of us used to the sensation; we could teach you how to cope.”

“You’re here , aren’t you?” Harry pointed out.

“Because of my probation.”

Harry shook his head. “No, I think you’d be here regardless.”

Draco kicked his shoe at the ground. “And you know me so well?”

“Been at school with you for six years,” Harry said. I’ve been watching you for just as long, He thought. “I think I know you pretty well by now. You’re plenty useful yourself, you know.”

The Room shimmered around them, like the lines of heat over a road in summertime.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked.

“I think it’s transforming,” Draco said. 

In the center of the Room materialized a large bed, with green and red fabric.

“Maybe we should get Minerva,” Harry suggested. Or we could use it , his evil mind supplied.

They both looked at the bed longer than was necessary, then left the Room without another word.

But when they returned, something stranger had happened.

“It’s completely restored,” Minerva marveled. “What did you boys do?”

They exchanged glances and shrugged. Strictly speaking, they’d done nothing Harry could pinpoint that would constitute bonding. Harry had simply been thinking about how long he’d known Draco and…

Fuck. He’d been thinking about how long he’d been watching Draco. 

He’d assumed this crush on Draco was a recent development, born after watching the way Draco had born his punishment, both official and unofficial, with sincerity and patience. Harry didn’t know what disturbed him more, that he’d long harbored a crush without his knowledge, or that the Room of Requirement had discovered it first.

At least the bed had disappeared before Minerva saw it. That would have been a nightmare to explain.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

“My life is a nightmare,” Draco said, flopping onto her bed.

“Are you allowed to be in the girl’s tent?” Lily asked.

Draco lifted up just enough to shoot a glare at her.

“Right,” Lily conceded. “Carry on.”

He flopped back down and groaned. After a few seconds of his pity party, he rolled over. “The Room of Requirement outed me.”

“It said you were gay?”

“Worse,” Draco moaned. “It manifested a fucking bed.”

Lily burst out laughing.

“It’s not funny!” He yelled, sitting up. “Potter was saying nice things about me, and I was…” Draco averted his eyes, “ Feeling things about it, then the room shimmered and a bed appeared.”

“My son saying nice things about you… makes you want to bone him?”

“I should have known you’d make this weird!” Draco accused.

Lily threw her arms in the air. “I’m sorry, Thumper, but everything about this is weird!”

“Yeah,” He sighed, falling back down on the bed. “I suppose it is.”

Flinging himself back up, “This is your fault, you know!” He pointed at her, as if there was anyone else in the room he could blame.

“My fault?” She said, in disbelief. “How could this possibly be my fault?”

“You pointed out that there was maybe the small chance Potter could harbor slightly positive thoughts about me.”

“More than small, definitely positive. Possibly feelings, even,” Lily corrected

“See? Your fault.”

“For pointing out the obvious?”

“For pointing it out to me ,” He whined. “It was easy enough to ignore when there was no hope; I’m used to hopeless Potter yearning by now, I’ve been doing it since fourth year.”

“Am I allowed to mention how sad that is?” Lily interrupted.

Draco glared. Guess not , Lily thought.

He continued as if she hadn’t stopped him. “But now that I know there’s hope, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“So tell him, date him, kiss him; something,” Lily said. “Problem solved.”

“ No ,” Draco argued. “ Not problem solved. Problem very much un -solved.”

Lily sighed. What she wouldn’t give for a drinking game where she could manipulate the Harry-Draco situation to its inevitable conclusion. Instead, she joined Draco on the bed, and waited for him to deliver his brewing rant. 

“He’s Harry Potter,” Draco explained, like the name was statement enough. 

“And?” Lily prompted. 

“And?! You need an ‘and’?!” He yelled.

“Well,” Lily said, patiently. “I didn’t know the man existed as of a week or so ago, so. Yeah. I’m gonna need more details.”

Draco sighed. “He’s the Chosen One ,” He started. “The Boy Who Lived…Twice. The Saviour of the Wizarding World. The Triwizard Tournament Champion!”

“Ooh! I know that one!” Lily interjected. “He won the Triwizard Tournament? That’s impressive.”

“He’s the only person who’s survived the Killing Curse. Not once, but twice. And it’s the fact he successfully navigated a maze that impresses you?”

Lily glared (it made a nice break from the ones Draco kept leveling at her). “You threw me a bunch of slogans, none of which had any meaning to me except the last; sorry I fixated on it.” Inside, she felt sick. Why would she be impressed that her son survived the Killing Curse? She hated the thought it had even been attempted on him.

“It’s hard to explain… but he’s a celebrity. Not just a celebrity, but one famous for ending a war . A war in which I happened to support the losing side. To tell you all the reasons we couldn’t work, I’d need a book.” He flinched. “That’s it! Accio Draco’s embarrassing drunk purchase,” Draco spelled, holding his hand out for the arrival of the mystery item. 

Lily picked up the book which had flown into Draco’s waiting palm. “‘Harry Potter: The Unofficial Biography’?” She read. “Why does his photo look like a mugshot?”

“It’s from when he was the Wizarding World’s number one undesirable, during the war,” Draco explained.

“I’m going to hate this book, aren’t I?” Lily asked.

Draco had the decency to look guilty. “You may want to skip the early chapters.” Taking another second to think, he added, “Or, all of them, really.”

Lily sighed. She wouldn’t skip any of them, of course; as much as it hurt, she wanted to know her son. This was her only chance, after all.

“I’ll uh,” Draco said, before making one of his abrupt exits.

And so Lily learned about her only son from a book.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

He’d just settled to attempt sleep in a third floor classroom which still had a roof when he heard someone approaching. He sat up, wand in hand before his ears even acknowledged the sound.

“Harry?” A voice called out, and Harry put away his wand.

“Over here, Lily,” He replied.

She found him in his makeshift bed: a nest of blankets he’d assembled near the Professor’s desk.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

Some combination of the late hour and her holding the Marauder’s Map made his tongue loose. “I can’t sleep in a bed anymore, so I keep testing out different locations around Hogwarts to see if I can find a place I can rest.”

The look on her face…

“Please don’t,” Harry begged.

“I’m not sure you get to ask that of me, Harry. Not anymore.” Then, she brought forward her other hand, which held a copy of Rita Skeeter’s unauthorized biography about him.

“Oh no,” He said.

“Oh yes,” She replied.

“It’s not all true,” He argued. “She made some of it up.”

“The Dursley’s?”

He shook his head.

“Fighting Voldemort when you were 11?”

He shook it again. She let out a shaky sigh.

“The graveyard?”

He shook it slower this time, tears welling in his eyes.

“Merlin, Harry. Perhaps it’d be easier if you just told me what wasn’t true.”

He gave her a wry smile, “I never dated Hermione. And I don’t really have a tattoo of a dragon on my chest.”

Lily choked out a laugh. “Oh? Well. Glad we dispelled those rumors. Now I can rest easy, knowing all the worst parts of the book are false.” She put her hands on her hips and looked down, breathing out and then in again with difficulty. “I don’t even know what to say to you.”

“Good night?” He offered.

“No,” She looked him dead in the eyes. “Absolutely not ‘good night’. If you think I’m leaving your side again… Harry, you’re so amazing. Did you know that?”

He turned his head to the side, but she stopped the motion with her hand. “Harry,” She brought his face in line with hers. “You know, I loved you the instant I saw you.”

“How could you know that?” He scoffed. “You’re not her yet.”

“That’s not what I meant,” She replied. “When I met you in the Room, right after I crossed over. You looked me in my eyes, and I loved you. In that instant, I knew I would do anything for you.”

He tried again to turn away, not wanting her to see his tears.

“Harry,” She begged. “Let me love you.”

“I can’t!” He cried. “I can’t let you love me, because I won’t be able to let you go if you start.”

“Oh, Harry,” She said, and she wrapped her arms around him.

Like a child, he allowed her to hold him, and he wept.

“Harry,” She soothed. “My Harry. It’s not fair. None of it. What happened to you, what you’ve been through. But you have to know I’m so proud of you.”

“There are things,” He choked between sobs. “There are things that aren’t in that book.”

“I know, sweetie, I would hope so,” She sighed. “I hope there are so many things that aren’t in that book.”

“Not enough,” He admitted.

“No,” She agreed. “Not enough. Not for you, anyways. You deserve it all.”

She pulled them down into his nest. He laid his head on her lap, and she gently stroked his hair. It was everything he imagined having a mother might feel like. He never wanted her to leave, and he wanted to hate himself for the weakness. But he couldn’t. He could feel her love fill up the cracks of his soul he hadn’t known existed, and letting her love him didn’t feel like weakness at all.

For the first time in months, maybe even years, he fell asleep, at peace.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

She knew the instant Harry woke: she could see his face age before her, turning from the carefree slumber of a child to an adult with its associated pressures. It broke her heart, and then it nearly broke again when his hand went instantly to his wand upon consciousness.

“You’re safe, Harry,” She whispered, and his face relaxed.

“Morning,” He blinked up at her. “This is weird.”

“I’m the seventeen-year-old mother to an eighteen-year-old,” She said. “It was always going to be weird.”

He smiled. Sitting up, “I forgot I’m actually older than you.”

“Don’t think that means you can disobey me,” She argued. “I’m still your mother.”

“Sure sure,” He said, running his hands through his hair. A lost cause , she thought. Just like his father.

She distracted herself from that disturbing thought by pushing Harry’s shoulder. “Come on,” She said. “We need to see the Headmistress.”

“Ok,” He agreed. Whether from a rare full night’s sleep or their conversation, Harry seemed to trust her now. 

Lily told the part of herself pleased with the transformation to hold on for a minute. She’d need her whole mothering strength for the upcoming conversation.

They found the professor in the mess. Breakfast was long over; Lily had allowed Harry to sleep in. He’d certainly needed it.

“Professor, I need you to move me into a tent with Harry.”

Harry did a double take, but stayed silent.

To the Headmistress’s credit, she simply raised an eyebrow.

“He hasn’t slept in weeks, and he only sleeps in my presence,” Lily explained.

“That’s not exactly true,” Harry argued, rubbing the back of his neck. “I slept in the Room of Requirement awhile back.”

Lily placed her hand on his arm; she’d address that later. Instead, she said, “Harry, let someone fight for your best interests.” 

Professor McGonagall smiled.

“You asked me to help,” Lily pointed out, meaningfully. “This will help.”

The Headmistress nodded. “I’ll arrange it. Now, since you missed the assignments, why don’t the two of you tackle the kitchens?”

“I didn’t think the kitchens were damaged,” Harry admitted as they walked to their work location.

“I don’t think they were,” Lily said.

He didn’t respond for a bit, then slowly nodded. Finally, Lily thought. He gets it.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

Harry had yet to muster the words that would convey his full gratitude for Lily’s act, but they’d been paired for several days (at Lily’s insistence) and they left every worked room completely repaired. So, he was pretty sure she knew.

“We’ll have to split up eventually,” Lily joked. 

“Not yet,” Harry said, and she squeezed his shoulder.

But he feared he monopolized her time, and it was almost a week before the full moon, so he pushed her in the direction of Draco’s tent and set off for the Marauder’s. Based on the low murmuring inside, the boys were discussing something private. Harry knocked loudly to announce himself.

“It’s me,” Harry said, waiting for Remus’s ‘Come in,’ before entering.

“I brought these for you.” Harry placed seven potions on Lupin’s side of his double bed with Sirius.

Remus inspected the flasks, which had no label. “What are these?”

“Wolfsbane,” Harry replied, before remembering it was Professor Lupin who’d drank Snape’s brew. Teenage Lupin probably had no idea about the potion. “Sorry, I forgot you wouldn’t know. You drink it every day for the full week leading up to the full moon, and it makes you harmless when you transform.”

“Harmless?” Remus breathed.

“Yeah,” Harry smiled. “Like an overgrown puppy. Most werewolves sleep the whole night, and wake up with a brief memory of the transformation.” He winced, “Sorry about that. I’ve heard pain potions don’t help, otherwise I’d have brought you one as well.”

Sirius, James, and Remus exchanged looks.

“Did I miss something?” Harry asked, suddenly paranoid he had spinach in his teeth.

“You know,” Sirius said.

“Yeah?” Harry tilted his head. “I’ve known since third year, when you were a professor.” He examined their faces, and it suddenly dawned on him. “You thought I’d judge you?!” He shouted, then, remembering voices carry, he whispered, “You thought I’d care ?” Shaking his head. “I may not be ‘fun baby Prongs’ or whatever, but I know right from wrong. I know that judging someone for something outside of their control is unequivocally wrong .” 

Flipping around, he headed for the door, but James’s hand stopped him. “Stop! That’s not what we—we didn’t think that .”

“Godric, if his temper isn’t all Evans,” Sirius laughed. Remus shot him an angry glare.

“Harry, we’re sorry. It’s not that we thought you’d judge, but…” James trailed off.

Remus picked up the thread. “I feared it, though. I always fear it. What people will think of me when they find out, especially people I care about.”

Harry took a deep inhale, then released it. Looking down at his clenched fists, he relaxed those, too. “Sorry about the temper. It’s just—people questioning my motives is a bit of a trigger for me.”

Sirius clapped his shoulder, “Don’t apologize for that temper! It’s a beautiful sight to behold, even when it’s aimed square at you.”

“It’s not just that you didn’t care about me being a werewolf, Harry,” Remus continued, ignoring Sirius. “It’s that you cared about me. You knew, and you sought out a potion to help, and you did it all without us asking. You haven’t given us much of a chance to get to know you, so the gesture was surprising.”

Shrugging, “All right.” The sentiment made his skin itch. Bonding with Lily was one thing; she seemed the type to sniff out people in need, like a hug-hound. But Sirius and Remus… he’d known them before. As for James...

Sensing his shifting mood, Sirius dug under his bed for something that clanked when he found it. “Drink with us,” Sirius said, pulling out a bottle of Firewhiskey.

Things had gone all right when he’d allowed Lily to comfort him. What could drinking with his father and his two dead friends do?

“Fine,” Harry relented, and Sirius let out a whoop.

“A Marauder’s Bash!” He called out. “Invite the masses, for tonight, we drink!”

🜃🝥🝮

An hour or so later, Harry found himself in the Marauder’s tent with the whole gang.

“We still have yet to settle on a nickname,” Sirius pointed out.

“We’re the Marauders,” James said. “Just with new members.”

Remus smiled. “Will the newcomers need nicknames as well?”

“Obviously we’ve got Thumper and Bambi,” Sirius joked, eyebrows waggling.

“I regret every conversation I’ve ever had with you,” Lily groaned.

Winking, “As if you could ever, Evans,” Sirius said. Turning to Ron and Hermione, “Any suggestions? Speak now or get called Weasel 1 and Weasel 2.”

“My patronus is an otter,” Hermione suggested.

Sirius shook his head. “No good. Too cuddly-cute for nickname potential.”

“Hook,” Draco suggested. “She’s got a mean right one.”

A Christmas morning look spread on Sirius’s face, “That’s a story I’ll need to hear. Hook it is.”

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, “I approve.” Hermione turned to Draco. “You haven’t been deserving of a repeat performance. Yet,” She warned.

“Noted,” He smiled. It slipped a little, then, “You know, I am sorry for what I called you.”

Her haughty pose softened. “I know, Draco. But I appreciate your apology.”

Sirius cleared his throat. “What about Ginger, for Ron?”

Wrinkling his nose, “Not very clever, is it?” Ron turned to Harry. “Any thoughts?”

“I’d hate to have you named after your patronus,” Harry joked. In a fake-whisper to Sirius, “Jack Russell Terrier.”

Tutting with disapproval, Sirius asked, “Any memorable moments? Things about Ron we should highlight or destroy?”

“Hoover,” Hermione offered. “Because he vacuums up food.”

“Is that a muggle thing?” Ron asked. “I quite like the sound of it.”

Harry smirked, “Just don’t combine your nicknames.”

Hermione pondered the idea, then slapped Harry’s shoulder. “And what’s your nickname?”

“Pick of the many he already has,” Draco drawled.

Lily frowned. “The Chosen One makes a terrible Marauder name, Draco.”

“The Chosen One?” James asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Accio Draco’s drunken purchase,” Lily spelled.

Harry raised an eyebrow when the copy of his autobiography flew into her hand. “Draco’s drunken purchase?”

“Shove it, Potter,” Draco said without venom. “Or I’m suggesting ‘Potty’.”

Lily handed the book to James. “What’s this?” He asked.

“A book about our son.”

James turned to Harry. “You have a book written about you?”

“Did you tell your parents nothing ?” Draco asked.

Harry shrugged. “Why bother them?”

Wrapping her arms around Harry (she’d become very tactile since their heart-to-heart, and Harry hated how little he minded), Lily said to James, “Read it later.” James nodded.

“Nickname?” Ron suggested.

“If you pick Saviour, I’ll end you,” Harry warned.

“Phoenix,” Hermione suggested.

Lily sat up straight. “That’s perfect.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, “A bit pretentious,” Harry muttered.

“No,” Lily said, pulling him back for a tighter embrace. “Perfect.”

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

Harry looked embarrassed by his new nickname, but it couldn’t suit him better. The man had been through hell; he deserved a second chance.

Sirius placed an empty bottle in the center of them. “Truth, dare, kiss?”

“Let’s scratch the kiss option,” James winced. “Seems inappropriate, given one of us is my actual progeny.”

“No fun,” Sirius pouted, and Remus kicked his shin.

“I’ll start,” Lily said for the distraction. The bottle landed on Ron, who selected truth,

“When did you first realize you had feelings for Hermione?” Lily asked.

Ron’s face reddened. “Right for the jugular? Man, you are fun.” He pulled the bottle of Firewhiskey from Sirius and took a swig. “Yule Ball. Fourth year. The instant I saw Krum put his hands on her.”

Quickly, Hermione’s cheeks matched Ron’s, hue for hue. “ Ron ,” She said, and grabbed him for a kiss.

“Not in front of the kids,” Harry joked.

“Shut it, you,” Ron said, between pecks.

“Any day now,” Sirius pointed, and, finally, Ron spun.

“Dare,” Remus said. To Sirius’s questioning look, “It worked out well last time.” Which made Sirius blush, and wasn’t that a sight? 

Of course, the dare to steal snacks from the kitchen left much to be desired. 

“Typical Hoover dare,” Remus snarked, before complying.

Properly catered, the game moved on. Hermione confessed she’d liked Ron since first year (which inspired a new round of kisses), Draco performed ‘Barbie Girl’ by Aqua complete with dance moves (Harry had seemed rather hypnotized by this), James admitted he often went commando (Draco had asked the question, and now Lily couldn’t get the thought out of her head), Sirius thoroughly snogged Remus (a dare from Remus, and a bit of a cheap one, if you asked Lily), Lily showed off her perfect back handspring (to the sound of Potter’s jaw hitting the ground), and Harry revealed he could still talk to snakes.

“Say something in Parselmouth,” James dared Harry on his next turn.

Harry hissed something, and Draco blushed.

“Like that, do you?” Lily teased.

His face reddened more. “ Stop ,” He begged.

Eventually, the contestants got drunker, and the game devolved. 

“When did you know you were bi?” Sirius asked Harry, before stuttering. “Oh Godric! I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s ok,” Harry smiled. “It’s not a secret.”

Lily noted that Draco had stopped breathing. She squeezed his knee, and he inhaled on accident, then shot her a grateful look.

“I suppose I actually suspected back in fourth year,” Harry said. “ Cedric ,” He winked at Hermione. “But I didn’t actually know until recently.” With a meaningful glance at Sirius, “I’m not ashamed, but I would like to avoid telling the whole Wizarding World just yet. It’s nice to have a secret all mine.”

Sirius nodded, then Harry spun the bottle. It landed on Draco.

“Truth,” Draco chose.

“Why didn’t you say it was me, back at the Manor?”

It took Lily a second to connect the dots, before remembering the story from Draco’s side, as well as the testimony from Draco’s trial which had made it into the Harry Potter biography.

Draco cursed. “Salazar, Potter. Ask a hard one.”

“You did know it was me, right?” Harry asked.

“Of course I knew it was you,” Draco glared. “But I couldn’t give you away. By that point, I wanted you to win. Figured it would be easier if you weren’t dead.”

Harry nodded, but Lily knew that wasn’t the full reason. Draco looked like he wanted to add something, but spun the bottle instead. It landed on Lily. She picked truth.

“What’s your type?” Draco asked, eyes full of malice.

“Smart,” She glared.

Sirius said, “Don’t make me get out the Veritaserum, Evans. I still have a few drops.”

Rolling her eyes, she continued. “Someone who stands up for others, knows what they want and aren’t afraid to ask for it.” She was just tipsy enough to risk it. “Someone who would stare down Dumbledore if it meant doing what was right.”

She felt rather than saw James sit up straighter. He couldn’t have missed that last clue.

What are you doing, Evans? Her self-preservation asked. Except, she couldn’t hide how she felt any longer. Hadn’t been able to hide it from herself for days. Not after finally getting to know Harry and learning what loving Potter could create.

She spun the bottle, and, through possible wandless magic, it landed on Potter.

“Dare,” He said, his face bright and full of hope.

“I dare you to kiss me,” She commanded, disproving once and for all that she could ever be a Ravenclaw over a Gryffindor.

“Not here,” He said, though his eyes betrayed the depth of his want. 

She stood, arched an eyebrow at him, and walked out of the tent, with Potter close behind. She knew the eyes of every person in the tent traced their movements, but Lily couldn’t care about that right now.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked, once they were outside of earshot.

“More than I’ve been of anything in a long time,” She replied.

He smiled, that James Potter, not-a-care-in-the-world smile, and, for once, she didn’t hate it. In fact, she might have loved it.

Leaning in, he gently brushed a strand of fire-red hair behind her ear. “I’m going to kiss you now, Lily Evans.”

“Stop talking about it and just—”

He cut her words off with his kiss. Gentle, but promising. He moved as if to pull away but she dug both hands into his soft, awful hair, and pressed her full body flush with his. With a groan, his lips parted, and they deepened the kiss. Moving her hands from his head, to his shoulders, to his waist, she moaned and broke off his mouth to trail sucking kisses along his jawline.

“ Godric , Evans. Give a bloke a warning,” He whispered, after she slipped one hand up the back of his shirt, moving the other to his perfect arse.

Between pecks, “Been wanting to do this for so long .”

He groaned, “Are you real right now?”

“So real,” She said, moving the hand up his shirt back to his front, then dragged it down.

With a squeak, “Wait!” He pulled back. “I’m sorry, I just.” He inhaled. “I really like you, and I don’t want to do this if it’s just checking a box off your list.”

She blinked. “Sorry, what?”

He blushed. “Like. If maybe you wanted to kiss me once, just to see what it’s like.”

Slipping her index finger between the waist of his trousers and skin, “Do you think I’d do this just to tell people I’d snogged James Potter?”

He gulped. “I’d hope not.”

She pulled back, reluctantly taking her hands away from parts she was eager to explore. “James, I like you. I’ve liked you for ages; only, it took meeting Harry to provide me sufficient motivation to act.”

It was his turn to blink in disbelief.

“He’s loyal, caring to his friends, stands up for what is right, and has unfailing trust in the humanity of who he loves. Sound like anyone you know?”

Beaming, James pointed at himself. “Me?”

She laughed. “ Yes , you idiot. We made an amazing human, and I want to be with the man who helped me do that.”

“You want to date me because you like our son?”

“I’m sorry,” She argued. “Can you think of a better reason?”

Adjusting himself in his jeans, “Admittedly, I’m not thinking with my whole brain right now.”

She laughed harder. “Come on, let’s get back to the game before they think we’ve done something untoward.”

He ruffled her hair. “There, now they won’t have to guess. They’ll just know. ”

“I hate you, James Potter,” She smiled.

“I really don’t hate you at all, Lily Evans,” He grinned back.

Chapter Text

Harry

Lily and James reentered the tent, looking disheveled and thoroughly snogged. Not sure of the protocol when witnessing the aftermath of your parents’ first kiss, Harry decided to wolf whistle.

“Hey!” Lily blushed. “Show your mother some respect.”

“I’m just glad you guys are finally acting like you like each other,” Harry admitted. “I was starting to fear I’d end up fading away, Marty McFly-style.”

“Marty McWho?” Remus asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry shook his head. “Come on, James. It’s your turn to spin.”

“No,” Sirius interjected. “This game has grown a bit stale, now that the will-they-won’t-they couple of our generation has finally given in to their baser urges.” Turning to Harry, “Want to bunk with us tonight? Give your old man the chance to score?”

James blanched. “ Sirius ,” He said, then vacillated his attention between Harry and Lily, unsure where to look. Strangely, he settled on Harry. “I would never —we’ve been drinking, and—”

“James,” Lily said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe.”

Harry laughed, “Don’t worry about me. Hogwarts’ sex education is lacking, but, I do know how babies are born. As it turns out, no one’s rooting harder for your successful sex life than I am.”

It amused Harry to watch James go from ghost white to beet red in a second. Harry couldn’t help but add, “Besides, based on the marks on your jaw, I’d say it’s Lily who’s the one we have to watch.” With one last wink to the stuttering man, Harry exited the tent, sending Sirius into rapturous laughter. It wasn’t until he walked away that he realized that had been the real goal; riling up his ‘old man’ had been a bonus.

Grinning as he walked away, he heard Hermione call out his name. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, choosing instead to slow his pace until they walked side by side. Hermione Granger , he thought, Meddler-in-Chief.

“Walk with me around the lake?” She asked.

Harry nodded. He’d been anticipating this conversation for days; better to get it endure it with a few shots of Firewhiskey warming his blood.

“How are you?” She asked, and Harry couldn’t stop his smile. In many ways, Harry was drawn to people who constantly surprised him. It’d been like that with Luna, Ginny, and now Draco. Even Ron, at times. Hermione’s predictability used to drive him batty. But, now he could appreciate her for this unwavering service.

“You know, a week ago that question would have angered me,” He admitted.

“And now?” Hermione asked, and he could hear the hint of fear in her voice. He tucked her shoulders under his arm; grateful she hadn’t betrayed him in height like Ron.

“And now, I can tell you that I’m fine.”

She took a deep inhale, and Harry waited for the blow. “Do you know what you’re doing? With the Marauders?”

He looked out at the lake and the forest beyond. A slight autumn breeze ruffled the leaves and sent a ripple through the previously still waters, distorting the reflection of moonlight on its surface.

“No,” Harry admitted. “I tried, you know. I tried to stay away, but something keeps pushing us all together. Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s going to hurt like hell when they’re ripped away again. I just can’t help myself. I have to know them, whatever the cost.”

Sighing, she laid her head on his shoulder, curls tickling his jaw. In that moment, he knew that for years she’d been trying to give him whatever version of a mother’s love she could offer, most likely believing it would never be enough.

“You know I love you, Hermione,” He said. “Even with your meddling ways.”

She laughed, “Good. I don’t expect them to change anytime soon.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I hope they never do.”

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

After a parting kiss to James, Lily walked back to her tent in a daze, only to find Draco sitting on her bed inside.

“You should probably leave before Harry gets here,” She teased. “Unless he’s who you were hoping to find?”

He threw a pillow at her head, which she deftly ducked. 

“You crazy Gryffinwhore. Tell me everything ,” He begged.

“Such a girl,” She said.

“Like that’s a bad thing,” He rolled his eyes. “When it comes to gossip, everyone’s a girl. Now, spill.”

She perched up on the bed beside him. “We kissed.”

“ Obviously , although I did suspect for a brief moment he’d fallen in the lake and tangled with the squid, given the suction marks on his jaw.”

Shoving his shoulder, “Did you want to hear the details or not?”

“I’m sorry,” Draco drawled, recovering from her nudge. “Only you were taking so long getting to the point.”

Lily stared, not speaking until Draco started to twitch, then relented. “Ok, so, he tucked my hair behind my ear, said he was going to kiss me, and then when I taunted him for not doing it fast enough, he gave me this very sweet, very chaste kiss. So naturally, I attacked him.”

“Naturally,” Draco replied, leaning in.

“Then, when we were finally getting to the good part, he pulled away because he wanted to make sure I liked him.”

“What a Hufflepuff,” Draco mocked.

“ I know ,” Lily smiled. “Honestly, it was perfect. Though I may have to consider kicking my son out of the tent one of these days to explore further.”

“If you ask nicely, and never mention the details of said exploration, I’m sure I can bunk with the Marauders,” Harry said, entering the tent. “Hello, Draco, planning on a slumber party?”

Blushing, Draco deflected, “Only if I can paint your toenails.”

Harry smiled. “Do you have Gryffindor gold?”

Lily groaned. How was tonight her first kiss with Potter, and yet the only sexual tension in her tent existed between her son and her best friend?

“Draco,” Lily warned.

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you to it.”

Harry watched Draco’s departure with interest, and Lily almost mentioned it. Almost. Another shot of Firewhiskey and she might have. Finally, he turned his attention to her.

“Are we talking about it?” Harry asked.

She wondered if he knew he’d been caught out watching Draco’s arse.

“About you and my dad hooking up?” He added.

She laughed, “Oh Godric, no. Please. It’s already so strange.”

He shrugged. “For a minute there, I was actually afraid you didn’t like him.”

“Oh, Harry. Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve like the Potter boys do.”

He gave her a curious stare, like he meant to ask something, before shrugging again, spelling off the lights, then crawling into his bed.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

Minerva made a strange announcement the next morning: all workers, aside from the Marauders, had been given leave to head home. Privately, she confessed, “I didn’t see the point in their continued fruitless labor. The only repairs that have made any signs of lasting have been made by your group.”

“The Marauders,” Sirius suggested, giving her a hopeful grin.

Minerva stared back, refused to utter the nickname, then continued on as if he hadn’t spoken, “At the rate your work has gone, I expect the castle to be fully repaired by the holidays. In fact, we’ve already made arrangements to get the staff moved in within the next few weeks to start N.E.W.T.S. preparation for next term.”

Hermione brightened, then turned guilty once she realized the implication.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest; he knew they’d have to go home eventually. He’d told Hermione as much last night. Tell your aching heart , he thought, then shoved that thought down under a layer of denial. Lily rubbed his upper arm, and Harry gulped with the effort of keeping his pain locked away.

When they were dismissed, Minerva added, “Harry, a word?”

He nodded to Lily, who looked like she wanted to stick around. “I can handle Minerva on my own,” He joked, but Lily gave him a dubious glare before reluctantly leaving.

“Headmistress?” Harry prompted, once they were alone.

“Please sit,” She offered, and Harry accepted.

“I fibbed a bit,” She said. 

Harry nearly fell out of his chair. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The repairs have come on exceedingly well. There’s no chance it will take until Christmas to get the castle back in school shape.”

“So why lie?” He asked.

Smiling, “Because there’s a piece of the puzzle missing. What’s to stop Hogwarts from falling back into disarray once the Marauders leave?” At Harry’s slight smirk, “And don’t you dare tell Mr. Black I referred to you as such.”

Harry winked. “Your secret’s safe.” Then, leaning forward, “About the Marauders, there’s something I need to confess."

Minerva raised one eyebrow: his cue to spill.

“When I gave myself over to Voldemort, I didn’t walk into the Forest alone. I…” He sighed. “I used the Resurrection Stone.”

“Are you talking about the stone from The Tale of The Three Brothers?” Minerva asked, surprised. “One of the Deathly Hollows? I thought they were a myth.”

“But you knew about the Elder Wand, didn’t you?” Harry frowned. “I spoke about it with Voldemort during our final battle.”

Shooting him an affronted glance, “It was rather overwhelming in those last moments. Those of us not battling for our lives spent the time in fear for them; it wasn’t my top priority to memorize your monologue.”

Ignoring her jab, “And my invisibility cloak? Surely you knew about that?”

“Do you mean to say,” Minerva’s eyes widened. “That at one point you possessed all three Deathly Hallows?”

Nodding, “As did Dumbledore. Who do you think I got them from?”

She leaned back in her chair. “Will that man ever stop surprising me?”

“I’m pretty sure he dated Grindelwald, too.”

Minerva fixed him with a disdainful glance. “Don’t tease me, Mr. Potter.” Muttering, “As if I didn’t know about Grindelwald.” She added something about impetuous youths that Harry disregarded.

“In any case, I used the Stone to bring back shades of my mother, father, Sirius, and Remus,” Harry pointed out, raising both eyebrows for emphasis.

“Oh,” Minerva breathed. “I see. Well, that clears things up.”

“Does it?” He asked.

“Perhaps. But I have to ask you something personal.”

He nodded. “I know what you want to ask. I did, you know. Die. In the Forest.”

She dropped her gaze to her hands, “Oh, Harry.” She sighed, then looked at him. “It’s all for you, then.”

“What is?” But he already knew.

“You gave yourself up for us, and all you asked for in return was company. Just four people you loved and lost too soon to hold your hand on the way to making the ultimate sacrifice. And Hogwarts, having been witness to the greatest battle, having seen firsthand the worst of Wizarding evil, also saw your act of love, and tried to repay it using the method of comfort you yourself once chose.” 

She shook her head. “I’d wondered why acts of spontaneous repair had occurred outside of the past-present pairings. But those were things that also served you, like Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley admitting they loved one another, as well as you and Mr. Malfoy putting aside the past.”

Harry blushed at this last comment, but Minerva kindly ignored it.

“As far as a gift goes, I regret it comes with an expiration date,” Minerva warned.

“I know,” Harry agreed. “But are we certain when they leave, that the repairs will hold?”

Minerva smiled sadly. “I wasn’t before, but I suspect there’s one condition on which Hogwarts will remain standing. Unfortunately, I fear the terms come with another great sacrifice on your part.”

“What?” Harry breathed.

“You have to choose to give them back.”

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

“You ok?” Lily asked once Harry departed the Headmistress’ office, looking slightly worse for the wear.

He gave a small smile, “No, but I will be. Do you mind working with Draco today? I need to talk to Hermione and Ron.”

“Skiving off?” She teased.

“Something like that,” He replied, before losing her to the castle’s twisting corridors.

Draco, it just so happened, was working with James.

She found the two of them in the dungeon, where Draco’d been working since the Room of Requirement healed itself.

James blushed beautifully when Lily walked in the room. “Hello,” He said, a big grin spreading across his face.

“Hello,” She smiled back, hoping she didn’t look half as fond as she felt.

“Oh Merlin,” Draco swore, watching the two of them stand and look stupidly at each other. “Should I leave the two of you alone? You don’t need a password to get into the Slytherin dorms right now, and I’m certain defling green sheets ranks pretty high on a Gryffindor’s before-I-leave-Hogwarts checklist.”

Before James’s blush consumed his whole body, Lily stepped in to say, “ No Draco. I’m certain the three of us can work together. What’s the point in staying paired up anymore? Harry’s off to find Ron and Hermione, so if the three of them can work together, why not form our own trio?”

“Potter’s gone off to find Granger and Weasley?” Draco asked, eyes widened. “That spells trouble.”

“What do you mean?” James asked, half-heartedly righting some furniture in the potions workroom in which they stood.

“The gathering of the Golden Trio is like a Grim; it means something dastardly has happened. Like a troll in the castle, or a basilisk in the drains, or Harry’s got to save a ginger from some over-eager merpeople,” Draco explained. “Salazar knows the depths of their scheming in fifth or sixth year.”

“That was when the Order formed,” Lily nodded. Turning to James, “Have you not read the book yet?”

James inspected his feet. “You just gave it to me last night!”

“I started the second I received it and finished within hours,” Lily argued. “Do you care so little about our son?”

“How are you two already arguing like an old married couple and you haven’t even shagged yet?” Draco asked, which resulted in both Lily and James turning on him. Draco’s gulp revealed how deeply he regretted it. Still, he held both their gaze in a dare of who would break first.

Which happened to be James. With a sigh, “I’m a bit intimidated, all right?”

“By a book?” Draco couldn’t help but ask.

James turned on Draco, “Not by a book, by my son!” He crossed his arms, looking petulant. When it appeared no one had additional snark to throw, he explained, “The guy isn’t half intense. He’s been giving off ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibes since the minute we landed here. For the first few days, I wondered, you know, why fix Hogwarts when we could just use the walls Harry built around himself to protect the castle?”

He sighed. “And then, Sirius figured out how to make him laugh, and Lily opened up his heart, so now Remus and I just stare at each other in the Marauder’s tent wondering where the hell we fit into all this mess.”

“You think this is all about Harry?” Lily said. “The reason we’re at Hogwarts?”

Draco groaned, “Of course it is. Merlin, why didn’t I see it coming? I’ve only been a secondary character in the Potter play since I was eleven.”

Lily flashed back to the first word she’d heard through the crack, blushed slightly, and conceded the point. “So why the four of us?”

James nodded, “Remus and I wondered that too. I mean, me and you made the most sense, for obvious reasons. But then, he seemed to connect more with Sirius at first.”

“That’s because he’d actually met Sirius before,” Draco said. “The man was his godfather, and his first father figure, and the first real tragic death in a long line of tragic deaths.” Shrugging, “Plus, the man has a roguish appeal.”

Ignoring Draco’s last comment, James continued, “And then, you know, Lily got close, but she’s Lily Evans , I mean,” He smiled at her, “She could charm an acromantula.” He stared soppily at Lily for a minute before remembering his train of thought. “Then, Remus and I debated whether maybe Harry knew about the werewolf thing and felt uncomfortable, or never knew Remus that well to begin with, but then he brought the Wolfsbane, so there went that theory. Meanwhile, Harry will barely speak a full sentence to me, and it’s not that he just needed all of the Marauder’s present because, if so, then why isn’t Peter here?”

“First of all,” Lily growled, “If you’d read the book—”

“I know! Ok, Godric, Lily. I’ll read the damn book.”

Lily glared until James looked sufficiently chastised, then said, in a scary calm voice that crescendoed, “Second, while you were having this long, thorough, winding debate about Harry’s thoughts and feelings, did it ever occur to you, to, maybe, you know, talk to him ?!”

James winced with the force of Lily’s last three words, “Intimidated! Remember?”

She sighed. Somehow, beyond all hope, she looked at his wounded face (scared of his own son!) and took pity on him. “Only because you look so cute —” Draco’s groan echoed in the near empty workshop— “when you’re desperate, will I help you with this.”

“Lily Evans, you’re my hero,” James beamed. 

Lily looked at that beautiful mess of a man, grinning at her like she was Merlin’s second coming, and knew she was in over her head in a totally-fucked way.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

The Golden Trio sat in the nearly refurbished common room of Gryffindor Tower (although Harry was loath to call them that, even inside his head). It had felt right, having this conversation there.

“Harry, why didn’t you tell us you’d used the Stone?” Hermione asked in a soft voice.

He shrugged. “I was afraid you’d think me weak for needing someone there with me, at the end.”

Tutting, Hermione wrapped him in her arms. After a brief pause, Harry felt the additional strong embrace of one Ronald Weasley. Harry grinned, despite the somber moment. “How could we ever think that you were weak?” Ron asked.

“So you have to be the one who sends them back?” Hermione’s voice was still soft, but had an underlying tone of ‘of course that’s what would be right’ to it.

Sighing, “Yeah. I think if Hogwarts knows I’ve deemed her gift sufficient, she’ll hold the repairs.” He shook his head. “Can’t believe I’m talking about proper gift receiving from a castle. Should I send her a Thank You note as well?”

Ron whispered, “Should we be talking negatively about the castle while we’re inside her?”

Hermione swatted Ron on the arm, breaking the embrace. “You stupid boy,” She said, then laughed at the absurdity of it all.

Ron joined in, but Harry wasn’t there yet. He was still staring down the barrel of a two month timeline, and, once again, he’d have to pull the trigger to save the day at the close.

“Didn’t I say I was done with trouble?” Harry complained.

“That assumes trouble will ever be done with you,” Ron countered.

“Right.” Hermione clapped her hands, scenting a mission. “What we ought to do is formulate a plan.”

Dropping his head in his hands, Ron moaned, “If this involves research…”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “ No , Ron. Not research. Well, at least not extensive research.”

Ron moaned louder.

🜃🝥🝮

As far as a plan, what Hermione had in mind was simple enough: come up with a list of things Harry wanted to do with Lily, Sirius, Remus and James. Before he had to send them packing. But it was only daunting if Harry considered the last point, or really any other point leading up to it.

Draco found Harry banging his head gently on a table in the mess. “Trying to knock some sense into yourself?” Draco joked.

A chuckle escaped Harry’s lips, “Actually, yes.” He sat up. “I’m trying to come up with a list of father-son, mother-son, godfather-godson, and former-professor-former-student activities.” He gave Draco a joy-free grin. Through gritted teeth, “It’s going really, really well.”

“I can see that,” Draco replied, one eyebrow creeping toward his hairline. “Need help?”

Harry gestured to the empty seat next to him. “Any thoughts on father-son bonding?”

“Don’t do it?” Draco offered. “Then again, your father and mine are light years apart. If you were asking me, I’d say sneak into Azkaban and curse him in his sleep,”

“I’d argue with you, but he did try to kill me on multiple occasions, so I’ll just pretend I didn’t hear you when I’m called to your next trial.”

“Thanks ever so,” Draco drawled, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Did you write down Quidditch?”

Harry nodded. “It’s pretty much all I’ve got.”

“Well,” Draco said. “Don’t tell Lily I mentioned anything, but I think your father’s coming up with his own list.”

“Really?” Harry frowned. “I figured he wasn’t interested in getting to know me. He seemed more focused on Lily.”

“Salazar, the Potter boys really are something else,” Draco droned. “The stupid sod is intimidated by you. He didn’t think you were interested in getting to know him .”

“He’s not wrong,” Harry argued. “At first, I didn’t want to meet any of them.”

Draco sighed. “I know. I don’t blame you. I couldn’t imagine being in your shoes.”

“Well, of course you couldn’t, they’re trainers. I’m pretty sure you’d melt if you wore anything designed for Muggle running,” Harry grinned. “But, yeah, it’s pretty overwhelming. Like being given two months to live. I don’t want to waste it, but it doesn’t seem like near enough time.”

“Of course it’s not,” Draco said, frowning. “Doesn’t hardly seem fair.”

“You know,” Harry leaned over the table. “I’m tired of talking about what is or isn’t fair. This just is, and I have to accept it.”

“Very zen of you.” Shifting in his seat, “If your father’s already making a list of his own, why not solicit the rest of the Marauder’s advice?”

Harry sat up straight. “You think that’d be appropriate?”

Rolling his eyes, “You don’t have to do everything alone, Potter. Salazar, you’d think the whole weight of the world rests on your shoulders alone.” Training Harry with a probing eye, “Wait. You actually do think that, don’t you?”

“I used to,” Harry admitted. “It’s a hard habit to break.”

“Well try ,” Draco begged, and his insistence touched Harry.

When Draco returned to work, leaving Harry alone to consider their conversation, his shoulders felt noticeably lighter.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

It surprised Lily to learn Harry had called a meeting of the Marauders, to take place that night. While waiting for his arrival, they shared stories of recent repairs; the rooms they’d been in that day had nearly fully recovered. Harry walked in when Sirius was explaining the changes to the Hufflepuff dormitories (while Remus blushed in the corner).

“Hi,” He greeted, every head turning to watch him enter.

He didn’t command a room the same way James did, who drew you in through small glances out of your peripheral vision that gradually grew larger. Or like Draco, who you could sense in the room, even if you weren’t looking at him. No, Harry seemed to suck the air out of the room until you could only breath if you were looking at him. 

Or maybe that was a mother-son thing.

“I have a bit of news,” Harry started, wringing his hands in front of him. Lily fought the urge to smack them apart; another motherly instinct, perhaps. “Minerva wasn’t completely truthful about the length of repairs. You all may have noticed we’re fixing things at a faster than expected rate.”

The room nodded in agreement; a few of them, Hermione and Ron especially, shared glances like they’d anticipated this.

“So, Minerva set the Christmas timeline as, well,” He shifted his gaze to his shoes, “as a gift to me. To give me as much time with you all as possible.” 

James and Remus shared a surprised look; Sirius kept his eyes steady on Harry, frowning slightly. Hermione and Ron intertwined their fingers. Draco seemed to be looking at Harry, but Lily noticed his eyes hit just above his left shoulder, as if a direct gaze would burn him. Lily returned her stare to Harry, who stared back at the same time.

Continuing, “First, I want to offer any of you the option to head back early. If you want. I know you all have lifes back in 1977, and I’d hate to be the reason you couldn’t live them.”

For now, Lily’s brain added, but she shot that intrusive thought down.

Before she could speak, James’s voice rang clear like a bell, “Absolutely not. I’m not leaving if you want us here.” Remus and Sirius nodded emphatically. 

Lily hated to see the look of surprise on her son’s face, so she added, “I’d stay forever if I could, Harry.”

He dipped his head in response, letting out a relieved and shaky breath. Hermione flinched, as if to go to him, but Ron shook his head softly at her. Draco caught the exchange, and something like anger flashed on his face. He quickly schooled it away.

“So you’ll stay? Through Christmas?” His soft voice betrayed his surprise, and his pleasure.

The Marauders nodded again, and Sirius rose, “I have so many ideas. First off, I have to see the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes…” He placed an arm around Harry, and dragged him over to Hermione and Ron. Remus followed after. Draco looked around the tent, nodded to himself, and left without a word. Lily almost followed him, but she saw the look on James’s face.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

He shook his head, then used it to gesture outside. They walked over to Lily’s tent.

“I can’t believe he didn’t think we’d stay for him,” James said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m so bad at this.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Lily soothed. “You’re eighteen. You’re not meant to be a father yet.”

James shot her a guilty glance. “But you didn’t seem to have any trouble connecting with him.”

She shrugged. “I think it didn’t feel real to you. Plus,” She shoved his shoulder with hers, “He looks just like you. It was easy to love him.” She caught what she said, then cursed herself, until James pulled her hand into his.

“He has your eyes, though. But I found them too hard to look into at first, not knowing where we stood.” He smiled at her, “It’s a bit easier now that it doesn’t feel like a cosmic joke the universe had played on me.”

“A joke?” She frowned.

“I mean, Lily, come on. You know I’ve liked you since fifth year. But you hated me. And this year… just when I got an inkling you might not hate me, you’d do something that completely threw me for a loop. Then, we come here to meet our son , whose eyes are just the same shade of kindness as yours. A bit more intense,” James admitted, “But oh, so kind. I could hardly stand to look at him: this promise of a future I’d never believed I could have.”

He smiled and squeezed her hand, “But then you kissed me, and it all seemed possible. At least, for now.”

“For now?” Lily asked, then caught his meaning. “Oh, you’re afraid I won’t feel the same way, when we go back and have our memories erased.” She paused, “That’s not why you want to stay, is it?”

He whirled on her, breaking their connection. “Absolutely not! I want to stay here for our son,” He pointed to the ground as he spoke, his indignation setting Lily’s skin on fire. “He needs us . Godric, he could barely ask for a measly two months with the parents and loved ones who died before they got a chance to really know him. He seemed to not think he had the right!” James shook his head. “Why in Merlin’s name would he not feel entitled to ask the world, given the sacrifices he’s made?”

Lily picked up James’s hand once more, “I know, James. I love him, too.”

“It’s just not fair,” James whined.

“No, but it’s all we have. So let’s make sure we give Harry two months he’ll always cherish.”

“And when we get back?” James asked.

Sighing, “James Potter, I don’t think even a Dumbledore-strength Obliviation could ever make me forget how much I care for you. But, tell you what, why don’t we charm a note to our past selves? Like your Marauder’s Map? Something only us four can see?”

James grinned, luminous in his pleasure. “Evans, are you suggesting we break Dumbledore’s restrictions?”

She shrugged, “Let’s just say, I’m creatively interpreting them.”

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

The next few days were a blur of planning with the Marauders, but, despite the constant distractions, he had enough time to notice Draco kept disappearing. Harry renewed his sixth year habit of checking his Marauder’s map (now one of two in the current timeline) to find Draco’s whereabouts.

A sigh from beside him pulled him out of his lunchtime investigation.

“Pick someone else.”

Harry startled, not quick enough to clear the map before turning his head toward Ron.

“Sorry?” Harry asked, though he knew full well what Ron meant.

“I said pick someone else, Harry,” Ron glared. “I understood you needed some time off dating. After everything that happened, I get you not wanting to jump back into something long-term with Ginny. And, even if you decide Ginny’s not right for you, I’ll accept you moving on. But not with him.”

“I didn’t—” Harry started, but Ron interrupted.

“No, I know that look. It’s your Cho Chang look… or maybe it was your Cedric Diggory look, who knows? It used to be your Ginny Weasley look, but, like I said, I can accept if that ship has sailed. But, mate, pick someone else. I beg you.”

Harry sighed.

“Ron…” Hermione soothed, joining them at the table.

Except Ron wasn’t angry at all; he was calm and collected. Which scared Harry, if he was being honest. “Even I can appreciate that the ferret’s not as pointy as he used to be, and Godric knows you’ve watched him long enough.” Ron shook his head, “And I get there’s a side of you that’s always been drawn to the dark.”

Harry opened his mouth to object, but, again, Ron shut him down.

“It’s not a bad thing. No one has to be 100 percent perfect all the time; not even you. And I hate to be the one to point it out, because if anyone deserves the happy ending of their choice, it’s the man who died to save the world. But think about this with more than just your prick. Are you going to bring him to the Burrow? Sit him across from Bill’s mangled face? Put him in Fred’s empty chair? You think the spoiled git will help Mum in the kitchen? Discuss Muggle inventions with Dad?”

Ron shook his head, “He’s not the guy you bring home to meet your family, Harry. And you’re not the casual type. No matter how much you want to overlook his past to gaze at his arse.”

“Lily likes him,” Harry pointed out.

“Lily’s a seventeen-year-old girl who hasn’t come to terms with her own untimely death, yet,” Ron glared. “Or did you forget that the mark on Draco’s arm was put there by the man who killed her and James?”

That knocked the breath out of Harry’s chest. Again, Hermione tried to de-escalate. “Ron, is this really necessary?”

“He was a child,” Harry replied, but the barb stung all the same. “The mark was punishment for his father’s failure at the Ministry. Failure we caused.”

“That doesn’t make us responsible for his poor decisions,” Ron argued.

But Harry wouldn’t stand for it. “You know as well as I do that mistakes were made on both sides. Or have you forgotten abandoning Hermione and me because you weren’t getting three squares a day?”

Now it was Hermione’s turn to balk at Harry. “ Harry! ” She called out.

“And I forgave you for that, just as I’ve forgiven Draco,” Harry added. 

“Fine,” Ron said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Forgive the man, just don’t fuck him.”

That was the last straw. Harry launched himself out of the tent, regretting he couldn’t slam the tent flap to any satisfying noise of aggression. In his haste away from Ron, he almost barreled over Remus.

“Harry?” Remus asked, and his kind tone made Harry’s eyes water.

“Here,” Remus offered, dragging Harry to the Marauder’s tent.

To Harry’s embarrassment, he found himself crying in front of the eighteen-year-old version of his favorite professor. “I’m sorry,” Harry said, wiping his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“No need to apologize,” Remus smiled. “What, you think werewolves don’t cry?”

Harry laughed, grateful for the distraction.

“Want to talk about it?”

Harry pulled a face, but Remus simply waited until Harry was ready to share. With a resigned sigh, Harry started, “I have an unfortunate crush.” Looking at Remus’s patient and open face, he asked. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

Remus tilted his head. “I hardly know you, but, from what I can tell, you’re the farthest thing from a bad person. Besides, it’s actions that make us good or bad, and you seem to have made all of the right ones.”

Playing with a piece of string hanging off his worn trousers, “But what if I like a bad person?”

“Do you really? Or are others just telling you they’re bad?” Remus pointed out, “There are plenty of people out there who’d call me bad; who’d warn Sirius away from dating me.”

Harry shook his head, “It’s not the same thing. What happened to you isn’t you. But this person… they actually did do bad things.” He grimaced. “Ron seems to think I’ve only changed my mind because of physical attraction.”

Shrugging, “Attraction is a strong motivator. But it can also be a sign of our own subconscious reaching out, showing us something we might not know we need. Have your instincts ever steered you wrong before?”

Harry let out a small smile, thinking back to when Remus defended Harry’s instincts on Potterwatch, “Rarely. In fact, a friend once told me my instincts were good and nearly always right.”

“There you have it,” Remus concluded. “So if your instincts are telling you there’s something worthy about this person, then there must be a reason. Is this the first time you’ve had feelings for this person?”

“No,” Harry admitted. “Though it wasn’t something I dwelled on, or ever considered pursuing.”

“So something’s changed, then, yeah?”

Nodding, “I think he has.”

“And it was only once you noticed this change that you allowed yourself to think about him in a new light? To, as you put it, consider pursuing?”

Harry looked Remus straight in the eye. He’d forgotten the comfort of Remus’s logic. Him and Sirius were starting to make sense: Sirius was all impulsive levity, whereas Remus was quiet kindness. Opposites attract , Harry thought with a smile.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” Harry said. “I know you won’t remember either the apology or the reason for it, but I’m sorry. One of our last conversations before you died… it wasn’t pleasant. I said some harsh things.” A wry smile, “You needed to hear them, don’t get me wrong. I just wanted to say I’m sorry we ended on such a sour note; you always knew how to reach me, before.” Harry swallowed. “Of all the Marauders, I had you the longest.”

Remus seemed to understand the words unspoken, squeezing his shoulder gently. “So, what are you going to do about Draco?”

Harry laughed, “I guess I’m not as subtle as I thought.”

“No,” Remus admitted. “Though I doubt anyone’s been looking as hard as we Marauders. Don’t worry: you’re still plenty mysterious, even if your affections are clear.”

“I suppose that’s somewhat of a comfort,” Harry said. “Can’t be too transparent. That’d be too easy.”

“Well,” Remus gave him a wry smile, “We certainly wouldn’t want to be that.”

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

When she heard the news, she raced to the Marauder’s tent.

“James, I need to borrow your map again!” Lily called out.

From his lounging position on the bed, he sat up and pointed to his bedside table, where the blank piece of parchment sat.

“ I solemnly swear I am up to no good, ” Lily spelled.

“Gives me goosebumps to hear you say that,” James said with a coy smile.

She shot him an annoyed glance, “Not now, James! I’m on a mission.” After locating Draco’s location, she ran out of the tent.

“I like it when you say that, too,” James called out after her, and she was grateful he couldn’t see her pleased smile.

She found Draco inside his own tent, a lonely thing on the very outskirts of the boy’s camp. “You’re leaving?” She said, barging into his tent without prelude.

“Knock much?” He replied, tossing a pile of folded white shirts into a trunk.

“Don’t ignore the question,” Lily pouted. “Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

He picked up a stack of trousers and turned toward her. “Well, no one was meant to know. I’m assuming McGonagall spilled?”

“She thought I had a right to know, and I happen to agree.” She paused. “Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?”

Shrugging, “There’s no sense in staying. I’m not central to the rebuilding efforts, and my probation ends soon.”

She crossed the room to perch on his bed. “What about Harry?”

“What about him?” Draco said, turning back to his packing. He flung the trousers on top of the shirts; they weren’t folded, which seemed out of character for the fastidious man. 

She shook her head. “I don’t understand. I thought you cared about him.”

“Lily,” He sighed, then joined her on the bed. “We talked about this. I’ve done terrible things. You know this, but you don’t understand. You weren’t there . I poisoned Ron, I cursed a classmate, I tried to kill Dumbledore!”

“You were sixteen, Draco,” Lily said.

“I’m sorry, but that doesn’t excuse me, no matter what you say!” Draco’s voice nearly cracked with the words. “And I’ve been barely punished: no Azkaban time, six months probation, Harry returned my wand… if I try to date the Saviour on top of it? It’d be like Voldemort won.”

“That’s not true,” Lily argued. “That’s nowhere near true.”

“Except you don’t know . You never… Lily, you’re going to be killed by him. You’re going to leave Harry an orphan, and I wear his mark!”

“You’ve changed, though. You don’t believe those things anymore. You’d never use that word—”

“So I don’t use slurs? I’ve outgrown being a childhood bully? That doesn’t erase what I’ve done. It certainly doesn’t make me worthy of Harry’s affection,” Draco’s face was red, with anger or embarrassment, Lily couldn’t tell. 

She sighed. “And Harry? Does he get a choice in this?”

Draco swore, “Merlin’s tits, Lily. You had to use that word?”

“I did, because, as I see it, you’re making the decision for him, and that’s the one thing he doesn’t deserve.”

🜃🝥🝮

Harry 

Now seemed as good a time as any to announce his eavesdropping. Harry walked into the tent. 

“Thanks, Lily. Can we have a moment?” Harry asked. Lily nodded, and left the tent.

“Of course you’ve been listening,” Draco groaned. “Because is there any moment of embarrassment in my life to which you haven’t been a witness?”

“I thought we didn’t need to have this out, but clearly we do.” Harry crossed his arms. “You know I was there on the tower, watching you drop your wand,” Harry argued. “You know I saw through Voldemort’s eyes while you were forced to torture other Death Eaters, and how much you hated every minute of it. You know I saw your face when you didn’t give me up at the Manor, and when you tried to stop Crabbe from killing me in the Room. Draco, you didn’t want to be there. Your regret was evident. Why do you continue to think you’re undeserving of my forgiveness?”

“Your forgiveness is one thing, Harry, but what I want…” Draco turned away.

“What about what I want?” Harry asked. “What if I want you to stay?”

“And if I stay?” Draco kept his gaze away from Harry, placing his hand on his trunk, as if steadying himself.

Harry sighed. “I don’t know, Draco. I can’t promise anything. I don’t think curiosity justifies it, but I am, you know, curious about you.”

“Harry…”

“Is that bad? That I’d like to know more about you?”

“It will be when the world finds out we’re, what, friends?”

Harry smiled. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Draco flipped around, “So that’s it then? One Room of Requirement fixed and a few half-arsed apologies, then we announce to the world that ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy is friends with Chosen One Harry Potter?” He scoffed, “Who’s going to field the Howlers?”

Shrugging, “We’ll ask McGonagall to update the wards.”

“And when we go out in public? Or do we hide our friendship in dark corners?”

“Whether or not I’m your friend, I’ll get hounded in public. I’d assume the same goes for you. Wouldn’t all the unwanted attention be easier to bear if it comes with the knowledge we’re not holding back from pursuing something we both want?”

“You’ve been talking to Lupin, haven’t you?” Draco huffed. “Logic is a strange color on you, Potter.”

“Come on, Draco,” Harry teased. “Be my friend.”

Draco groaned, then looked over at Harry, who’d offered his hand.

“Come on,” Harry waggled the outstretched arm.

With a sigh, Draco took his hand, and shook.

“Yay!” Lily called out from beyond the tent.

Raising his arms in exasperation, “Do any Gryffindors know their manners? Or do they simply ignore them all in the face of doing whatever the hell they want?”

Instead of answering, Harry lifted his wand, spelled Draco’s belongings out of his trunk, turned to Draco, and grinned.

🜃🝥🝮

On a Monday morning shortly after The Great Draco Drama, Harry watched his glamoured father and godfather peruse the aisles of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes with broad grins on their faces.

“Like kids in a candy store,” He commented to Remus, who grinned back.

“Can we take these back to the past with us?” Sirius asked, an armful of Extendable Ears, Weather In A Bottle, Portable Swamp,  Wiz-Bangs, and Dungbombs.

“Absolutely not,” George said, approaching from the back room. He’d been warned about the visitors and their unique provenance. “You’ll put me out of business if you take my inventions back home.” But his grin belied his humor at the idea.

It heartened Harry to see George smile again.

“So this is the famous James Potter,” George found James lovingly stroking a Pygmy Puff, which Harry found strangely endearing. “I bow to the master of pranks, the king of mischief, the lord of Filch-thwarting.”

James offered a sarcastic bow. “I hear you’re the ones who gave the Marauder’s Map to my son.” At George’s nod, “I’m glad you helped it find its rightful home.”

“Come on,” George said to the group. “I bet you want to see where the magic is made?”

Sirius and James let out very unmanly, very adorable squeals of joy. Remus and Harry simply looked at each other with fond exasperation, then followed them into the workshop.

After James and Sirius had exhausted all questions, they resorted to trying out various candies that changed their hair color, or turned their heads into an assortment of fruits. Remus, who’d had more than a few questions of his own, flipped through George’s notebook explaining the magic behind the items. George turned to Harry, “So where’s the lovely Lily? I’d hoped to meet her as well.”

“She’s with Draco,” Harry said, noticing the dark cloud that fell over George’s face. “They’re exploring Obscurus Books.”

“Ron mentioned the two of them were friends,” George shook his head. “I can’t understand it. She knows he supported Voldemort?” Harry nodded. “And that Voldemort kills her?” Harry nodded again. “Godric, I just don’t get it.”

“She accepts that he’s changed,” Harry said. “As do I.”

George’s face darkened further. “He can’t come to The Burrow.”

“I wouldn’t dream of asking,” Harry assured him.

George nodded, and the storm lifted slightly. “Your dad’s amazing. So’s Sirius. Remus seems cool, although I think he’d rather be inventing the pranks instead of using them, which is a shame. How long can they stay?”

“Through Christmas,” Harry answered.

Cursing, “That’s wholly unfair.”

Harry smiled, “So I’ve been told. Still, it’s better than the nothing I had before. One Christmas I remember with my parents is better than none, right?”

George shook his head, “I don’t know how you do it, mate. It’s enough to get out of bed in the morning, knowing Fred is gone. I don’t think I could let him go, if I got him back again.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “But I don’t have a choice.”

George trained Harry with a curious gaze. “I need to get you laid, Harry.”

A flush exploded across Harry’s face. “Excuse me, what?”

Nodding, “For all the shit you’ve been put through, you deserve a good fucking.”

“Please,” Harry begged. “Stop talking.”

“Not my sister, of course,” George warned. “She’s a virgin, in my mind and forever, but I’m sure there’s no shortage of ladies wanting to bed the Saviour.”

“Or men,” Harry added, with a pointed look.

George raised an eyebrow. “Or men,” He agreed, then smiled. “Double the options! Plus,” He winked, “Now you have another Weasley to include in the mix, one I’m way less protective of.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, with not a small amount of interest. Then, after thinking for a second, “Charlie! Of course; how could I have missed that?”

“Too busy saving the world, I imagine. Want me to owl him? I’m sure he’d come back from Romania for a chance with Harry Potter,” George waggled his eyebrows. “He always did think you were cute. Plus, you know he wouldn’t run to The Prophet.”

“Godric,” Harry gaped. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

George wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulders. “See? That’s why you need old Georgey. To think of the scandalous things our dear Golden Boy would hardly imagine for himself.”

Harry shook his head, “Thanks, but no thanks. I appreciate the offer, but, as Ron so recently pointed out, I’m not the casual type.”

Shrugging, “Suit yourself. But the offer stands.”

“I appreciate it,” He said sincerely. “Care to join us for lunch at the Leaky? Ron and Hermione are joining us as well. You’ll get to meet Lily, though Draco will be there as well.”

George stared at Harry for a moment. “You really think he’s changed?”

Harry nodded. “He apologized to Hermione, and me. If you wanted it, I’m sure he would give you one as well.”

George shook his head. “I don’t want anything from any Malfoy. But I’ll join you. For Lily.”

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

It was disconcerting trying to follow Draco around the bookstore with both him and Lily wearing Glamours. The Headmistress had insisted on the past-Marauder’s disguising their appearances in public, given the media attention they’d receive if the truth came out. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Draco had all opted to wear Glamours as well, to avoid the normal rush of well-wishers (or, in Draco’s case, hex-bringers).

“Wow,” Lily said, stumbling upon a row of Harry Potter themed books and merchandise. “He wasn’t kidding about the fame.”

Draco stood next to her, his normal golden hair a mousey brown, eyes turned darker blue, and pointy chin widened. “No, if anything, he’s undersold it.” Shaking his head, “I don’t think he’ll ever be able to have a normal life.”

Lily winced, and tried to hide it, but Draco squeezed her elbow all the same. 

“Should we meet the group at the Leaky?” Draco prompted, and Lily nodded. 

Inside the pub, it took a moment to pick out the other Marauders in their disguises. Sirius’s and Remus’s were the slightest, simply a hair change for both of them (Sirius went blonde, and Remus went red); they happened to be the least famous of the group. Harry and James opted for different noses, auburn hair, and brown eyes; they almost looked like twins. Ron turned his hair black and curly, which suited him somehow, and his normally present freckles were missing. Hermione changed her bushy brown hair into a sleek ginger bun, and had morphed her heart-shaped face into an oval.

In fact, if it weren’t for the familiar red of another Weasley, Lily might have passed them over without a second glance.

“Over here!” Harry called, and the two of them advanced.

Lily took the seat James had saved her, feeling a bit self-conscious in her purple hair (the only color she could turn it, apparently) and brown eyes. “Hello,” She greeted him, pulling another chair around so Draco could sit beside her.

He gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. “The purple looks good on you.”

She blushed, and turned to George. “You must be George, I’m Lily Evans.”

“A pleasure,” He smiled, but the lines of his face seemed stark for a man of twenty. Then again, Lily’d heard about his twin brother.

Draco radiated tension from Lily’s side, and she flicked his thigh in a command to relax. He shot her a venomous glare, which George caught, frowning.

“Malfoy,” He growled, and Draco paled.

“George,” Harry warned, and Ron eyed him suspiciously.

Raising his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I’ll behave.”

“Why don’t I buy the first round?” Draco offered.

George laughed maliciously. “As if I’d trust anything you bought us.”

“What was that about behaving?” Harry muttered. 

The past-Marauders exchanged confused glances, all except Lily, who understood the strain.

“I’ll explain later,” Lily whispered, but Draco shook his head.

“I’ve done some terrible things in my past,” Draco explained, “And I’d be willing to share them, at a more appropriate time. But, suffice it to say, my actions and words have caused a great deal of pain for the Weasley family. Not to mention the even worse actions caused by other members of my family.” He sighed, and turned to George. “I’m—”

“Save it,” George said. “I don’t need or want an apology from you.”

Draco opened his mouth, closed it, then nodded. 

“But you can buy us a round, if you so choose.”

Draco leapt at the chance, and disappeared into the crowd.

“Thanks, George,” Harry offered.

Raising an eyebrow in response, George said, “Not into casual, right?”

At Harry’s blush, Lily had a small inkling that Harry’s secret wasn’t so, anymore.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

Before they left the Leaky, Draco gave a fat envelope to George. At George’s suspicious gaze, Draco rolled his eyes and called Hermione over. She whispered a few detection spells at the documents before nodding her approval at George.

“What was that about?” Harry asked later, when he was able to separate Draco from the rest of the group.

Draco just shook his head.

“You know,” Sirius said, sidling up to the pair of them. “You promised me something.”

“What?” Harry asked warily.

“To prove your fame by taking a stroll through Diagon Alley.”

Harry sighed. “Fine, but I’m only doing this parlour trick once.” He turned to the group. “I’m going to drop my Glamour, so please be prepared to Apparate back to the Hogwarts Gates.”

The Marauders exchanged glances, then nodded.

With a deep, steeling breath, Harry cast Finite Incantatem, then waited. It took a second for someone to notice him, but the instant one face turned, the crowd swarmed.

“Mr. Potter! Thank you,” One witch called out.

“Sign my copy of your biography!” Another shouted.

Then, the audience began pressing, and the cries jumbled together, becoming a mix of “Date my daughter”, and “My insert-name-here died in the war”, and “We love you”, and, “Just a minute of your time”. Then The Prophet reporters arrived, calling out their own volley of questions: “Will you be joining the Aurors?”, “Have you rebuilt Hogwarts yet?”, “When can we expect your engagement to Ginny Weasley?”

It was after that last question that Harry felt a soft tug on his arm, sending his panic skyrocketing until he smelled the citrus cologne he associated with Draco.

“Come with me,” Draco whispered, his butterbeer-scented breath along with his crisp aristocratic accent soothing Harry’s nerves. With a few not-so-gentle shoves, they found their way to a dark alley, where Draco Side-Alonged Harry to a park, Hogsmeade, and then Hogwarts.

“Thought I’d Apparate in triplicate,” Draco said, panting on the other side of their jumps. “To throw them off the sent.”

“Clever,” Harry replied, dizzy from the Apparition, Firewhiskey, and proximity to Draco. He took a step back to clear his mind, and smiled. “Is that why you only had two Butterbeers?” Harry asked. “So you’d be sober enough to Apparate?”

Draco’s slight blush gave him away. “Well, someone has to keep a cogent mind in a crowd of Gryffindors.”

Harry tried not to let how touched he was by the gesture show on his face. “Back to the castle, then?”

Nodding, Draco followed Harry to the gates, where the rest of the Marauders waited for them.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said, eyes wide and worried. “I didn’t realize… that was terrifying.”

Harry clapped Sirius on the shoulders, “It’s ok, Sirius. But maybe be careful what you wish for, next time?”

🜃🝥🝮

The following day, James enacted his plan to get to know Harry. It was a bit forced, but Harry finally felt ready to open up. It didn’t hurt that the plot centered around a game of Quidditch.

Overnight, it felt as if Fall had given over to Winter. Bundled up in Quidditch gear spelled with warming charms, Harry and James embarked on a not-so-friendly Seeker’s game. James may have been a Chaser on the Gryffindor team, but he knew his way around a Snitch.

Harry, however, was better.

As he snatched the seventh Snitch straight out of James’s reach, Harry gave out a bark of triumphant laughter. “Take that, old man!” He called out, celebrating his win with a show-off double-barrelled roll.”

“ You’re older than me ,” James complained, his competitive spirit sending a spark of anger into his voice. “You fly like a natural,” His jealousy quickly turned to admiration. “Did you really not fly until you got to Hogwarts?”

Harry groaned. “Don’t tell me: you’re reading the book too.” He pulled up next to James, the two of them hovering by the visitor side goal posts.

Looking out over the grounds, James shrugged. “I’m trying, but it’s hard to get through. Not because of what it says, although Merlin that’s rough, too. But that book is a list of things that happened to you; it’s not who you are.”

Harry felt as if he’d been gut-punched. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” He admitted.

James smiled. “Well, everything feels much clearer up here. Simpler.”

Harry nodded, “I’ve always thought so.”

“I haven’t really connected with you,” James said, bluntly.

Shrugging, “I never knew what I needed from you. Lily and Sirius… they rightly guessed for me. Remus just happened to be there at the right time.” He smiled, “But maybe you just needed a bit more time to figure it out for yourself. You’re doing ok, for what it’s worth.”

James shook his head, “I’m not sure you have much experience to work from, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“Oh will you?” Harry smirked. “I’m shocked .”

James reached across the short gap between them and lightly shoved Harry. Harry sent him a mischievous grin, said, “Race you!” and bolted off before James had a second to object.

“No fair!” James cried out, trying to catch up.

Harry let out a whoop of joy as he bent over his broomstick, a brand new Lightning Bolt, named after him. He didn’t bother to look over his shoulder; he knew his father would be on his tail. He hadn’t even bothered to set the finish line. All Harry knew was that he wanted the wind in his hair, the ground blurring beneath him, and the sound of his father giving chase.

🜃🝥🝮

Part two of the Potter-to-Potter bonding plan consisted of Firewhiskey and a game of 20 Questions. The other Marauders had plans to stay out of their way. Remus had bribed Sirius with a tour of the Slytherin dormitories (Draco was right on that front), Lily was having a spa day with Draco (with promises to take compromising photos for Harry’s benefit), Hermione took a Portkey to Australia to visit her parents (still recovering their memories, but doing well so far) and Ron… well. Harry had a feeling Ron was at the Burrow, asking for an heirloom ring for Hermione.

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry sat across from his father, and marveled at the current state of his life.

“Let me have it,” James said, taking a shot of Firewhiskey to start. “Your chance to ask any burning,” He let out a flaming belch at this remark “questions about me.”

Harry gave his father a disgusted face, though secretly impressed with the timing. “Why Lily?”

“Why Lily?” James said, his eyes going glazed. “She’s smart. So smart, but never lords it over you. Despite how inherently clever she is, she still tries hard; never rests on the assumption something will come easily to her. And she’s kind,” James smiled, “Like you. Wants to help every person she can. She was forever tutoring the younger years, even if it meant having to stay up late to finish her own work. And she’s fierce. Stands up against bullies,” He blanched at this, looking somewhat ashamed. “I think you’re more like her than me.”

Harry shook his head, “I’ve got a temper, and I’m prone to rash judgement. Sound like someone you know?”

Laughing, “Never met the guy.”

But James’s question opened up a line to a conversation that had weighed heavily on Harry for years. “Why did you bully others?”

James sighed. “We didn’t really consider it bullying. Having grown up a pure-blood, I knew how Slytherins worked. Or, at least, I thought I did. I thought, given their prejudice and their hatred, they deserved to be knocked down a peg or two. I never stopped to consider that not every Slytherin deserved that treatment; that, maybe, I held some prejudices as well.”

“And Snape?”

“Bad timing, poor impulse control, jealousy over Lily, and the inability to learn from my mistakes. Not the proudest of my past choices. But I did try to change,” Turning his eyes to Harry, as if willing him to believe, “Honest. I saved his life when Remus almost hurt him on a full moon. But Snape could never believe my intentions were anything but dishonorable. We’d both gone too far down the rabbit hole to turn back.” He paused, “My turn for a question?”

“I did just ask three, so fire away.”

“What’s the deal with Draco?”

Harry groaned. “I’d say ask another one, but we’re always going to circle back to this question, aren’t we?”

James slid over a shot of Firewhiskey, and Harry downed it.

“It all began at Madam Malkin’s…”

Harry shared the long, sad story of two boys who allowed circumstances to dictate what they thought of one another. In many ways, it sounded similar to what James and Snape had experienced.

Then, “I almost killed him, you know? Using a spell of Snape’s before I knew what it did.” James’s eyes widened, but he didn’t comment. “What haunts me about that is how, once I got over the initial shock of the blood and gore, I was more concerned with my detention ruining Gryffindor’s chance at the Cup. It never even occurred to me to check on Draco in the hospital. To this day, I don’t even know if the wounds scarred. Godric, I kissed Ginny Weasley shortly after, and the whole school moved past the fact that I’d used dark magic on another student to discuss my new relationship status, as if the whole affair had never happened.”

“That’s… a lot,” James admitted. “And now?”

“Oh, that’s not even all of sixth year. We haven’t started on the fact he nearly killed Dumbledore, or how Hermione was tortured at his childhood home by his Aunt, or the whole Fiendfyre incident…”

“Maybe I should finish the book before I ask about Draco again,” James smiled.

Shaking his head, “If you can find something in my biography that explains me and Draco, print it out and frame it for me, will you?”

“We like who we like, and sometimes there’s not a ton of logic there,” James said, raising another shot of Firewhiskey.

“Cheers to that,” Harry replied, bringing his own shot up to James’s with a satisfying clink.

The questions got less intense after that. Harry inquired after James’s life growing up, silently lamenting the grandparents he would have loved. They discussed Harry’s first broom (including the one he didn’t remember, but learned about from a letter from Lily found in Grimmauld Place). James shared his favorite pranks with the Marauders, including the time they turned all of the Slytherins’ hair red. Harry revealed behind-the-scenes information about the Triwizard Tournament (minus Cedric’s death). 

By the time they were discussing more mundane topics like favorite Hogwarts feasts and all of the places Harry had tried to sleep before Lily had discovered his insomnia (James was particularly proud of Harry’s attempt to sleep in the Whomping Willow), the two of them were soundly drunk and yawning.

“Perhaps we should sleep?” James suggested, stretching out on the rug in front of the fireplace.

Harry sighed, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to without Lily.”

“Psh, I’m better than Lily,” James slurred, then rethought it. “No, no, I’m not, but maybe I’m not a half bad substitute?”

“No, not half bad at all, Harry said curling up in a ball on the couch. 

One eye open, Harry watched James stand and join Harry on the couch.

“My dad… he often let me sleep in the crook of his knees.” James stretched his legs out a bit, and Harry scooted to allow them. “He called it his fort.”

“Hmm,” Harry said, settling into the space behind James’s legs. “‘S cozy.” He laid his head on his father’s hip, and drifted off into sleep. But not before making an important, silent prayer, Please don’t fart on me, dad.

🜃🝥🝮

The next afternoon, Ron returned from the Burrow, storming into Harry’s tent with a huff.

“Do you put Malfoy up to this?” He asked, waving a packet of paper in the air.

“Considering I have no idea what you’re talking about, I suspect my answer is no.”

Ron frowned. “So this wasn’t your idea?”

“You’re going to have to clue me in if you expect me to participate in this conversation,” Harry said, still hungover from his night with James.

Sitting on Lily’s bed, “He’s asking Bill to chair the board of a charity he started in Remus’s name. To fund research into lycanthropy cures as well as promote pro-werewolf legislation.”

“Wow,” Harry’s eyes widened. “That’s really cool. There’s not already a charity like that?”

Ron shook his head. “Even after Voldemort’s enabling of Greyback left the Wizarding World with too many new werewolves, no one wanted to throw money behind the cause. And this,” He pointed to the document, “Is a lot of money.”

Flicking through the paperwork, Ron gestured to another packet, “And then, there’s that.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, hoping it reminded Ron that he couldn’t read minds. 

“He’s funded Potioneering, Charms, and Transfiguration Fellowships in Fred’s name,” Ron explained. “So anyone leaving Hogwarts with a talent in any of those subjects plus a desire to pursue careers outside of a Mastery have options available to them.” A disbelieving tone in his voice, “Which apparently didn’t exist, making it hard for George to find any qualified applicants to work for him.”

“I guess this will be good for the Malfoy brand, then?” Harry ventured. “Get them some good press?”

Shaking his head, “That’s the thing. These funds are only available contingent on the complete anonymity of the donation. The only reason Malfoy notified our family was because he knew they’d suspect any funds coming from him, and he wanted complete transparency so we could trust there were no strings.”

A glowing feeling began to spread at the center of Harry’s chest. Pride , he named it.

“What will the family do?”

Ron scoffed, “We have to accept it. It’s too generous and,” He looked at Harry as if torn, “We’ve been looking for a way to honor Fred. This is… well. It’s too perfect to pass up.”

Harry nodded.

“This doesn’t change my mind about the git,” Ron said, although he seemed hardly convinced of it himself. “I still think he’s a spoiled brat. And a bully. And money can’t change everything, you know.”

“It’s a start,” Harry offered, and Ron frowned.

“Yeah,” He agreed. “It might just be. And you really didn’t know?”

Harry smiled fondly, “If I’d known, I would have put up cash as well.”

Ron gripped Harry’s shoulder in an affectionate squeeze. “You’re not half a bad influence, you know?”

“I’ve been called worse,” Harry joked, then decided to change the subject. “Are you sure you don’t have some additional news to share with me?"

Ron blushed. “Of course you guessed. Well, all I’ll say is wait for New Years.”

“She’ll say yes,” Harry assured him.

Ron’s blush deepened. “I hope so, Harry. I’d be nothing without her.”

Must be nice , Harry thought, a streak of envy shooting through him. Then, he turned their discussion into a planning session for their next activity.

🜃🝥🝮

It took one failed outing at a Canons game for Harry to give up on public outings in Britain. Word had escaped about his Glamours, and Harry never felt right using Polyjuice (especially when faced with the prospect of finding donors for all eight of the Marauders). While Harry could take the time to research different methods of disguises and Glamours that could mask him better, he didn’t want to waste the precious little time he had remaining. Especially after losing a few days to another full moon. As it stood, they only had one month left together.

Harry stared out the window of Gryffindor Tower at the newly fallen snow; with the changing weather, and the near complete repair of Hogwarts, they’d all been moved out of the tents and into the Tower (except Draco, who said the red coloring offended his Slytherin sensibilities, and chose to stay in the Dungeons, though he visited often enough to claim residence).

Although the staff had also moved back into the castle, the Marauders rarely ran into them (after witnessing a weepy reunion between Lily and Professor Slughorn, Harry suspected the staff stayed away on purpose).

The approach of footsteps was softened by the common room carpet, but Harry heard it all the same.

“Wallowing isn’t a good look on you, Potter,” Draco drawled.

Harry smiled. “All looks are good on me,” He teased, turning around.

“Well,” Draco said, shuffling his dress shoes on the carpet. “What’s dragging you down today? Are there children whose kittens need saving? Hippogriffs who need petting? A dragon who needs a new winter coat?”

“Nothing quite so charitable, I’m afraid,” Harry admitted. “Simply lamenting my ability to take my father to another Quidditch game.”

“Ah,” Draco’s eyes raised in remembrance. “The Canons incident. Though it was amusing for the worst team in the league to have lost due to a reason beyond their ineptitude.”

Harry frowned, “A streaker with my face tattooed on his back is hardly an amusement, Draco.”

“Speak for yourself,” He replied, eyebrows waggling. Then, “Here’s an idea: why not use a Pensieve to show your father some of your old games?”

“That’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed, eyes bright. He clapped Draco on the shoulder, “I’ve got to go find James. Wanna come with?”

Scoffing, “Of course I do. After all, I need to provide my own memories to combat the obviously false narrative of your very narrow wins against me.”

Harry laughed, “Of course you do.” 

They found James a few moments later in a rather compromising position with Lily, and quickly ran out of the room. Harry and Draco exchanged an awkward look, and Harry said, “Maybe I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

Draco peeked around the corner, “Better make it twenty.”

Then, the two of them tiptoed away, and Harry sought out Hermione for some light Obliviation.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

Time was slipping away. With only one month left, Lily had begun to panic with fear at losing Harry.

“Plus,” Lily said, draped across James’s lap in the common room, “It’s not like we go back to the past and have our whole lives ahead of us. We’re slated to join a war and die in just a few years.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Harry said, walking in at the worst possible time. His face darkened.

Sitting up, “I’m sorry, Harry. This isn’t your burden to carry; I was just venting.”

“I know, but,” He slumped into a nearby armchair. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize these weren’t just your last few moments with me. They’re your last few, carefree moments with each other.”

He sat up straight, “I have to go,” then bolted out of the room.

Lily looked over at James, “Part of me wants to figure out what he’s up to, the other part just realized we have the potential for some uninterrupted private time.”

Flicking her contraceptive charm bracelet, James teased, “Parenting is such a challenge,” before herding her into the bedroom.

When they emerged a successful rendezvous and glorious catnap later, Harry was waiting for them with the other Marauders in the common room.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow, “Have fun?”

“None of your business,” James growled, but Lily beamed, “The most fun.”

“Gross,” Harry pulled a face, before distracting them all with a fishing rod.

James furrowed his eyebrows. “We’re going fishing?”

“No!” Harry rolled his eyes. “We’re going to America.”

“What?” Lily asked.

“I bought us a Portkey to New York City, and, here,” Harry pulled out a duffle bag. “I’ve got charmed drivers’ licenses so we can drink, an Apparition map of Wizarding sights, a Beatnik’s guide to Greenwich Village for Sirius, tour passes to the New York Public Library for Remus and Hermione, a map of Muggle sights like a park with giant chess pieces… I even got us invited to MACUSA!” He beamed at the group, then turned a little sheepish. “I may have used my name to get—oof!” His words cut off with Lily’s hug.

“Harry, that’s amazing! Thank you!” She squeezed him tightly. 

“That’s not all,” He whispered, and she released him. “I want to take you guys around the world. I just, you don’t get to travel, right? Maybe James and Sirius did, but not you, not Remus, and none of you together. I want you all to have this, even if you won’t remember.” He smiled sadly, “And, selfishly, I’ll have the photos. I can hold the memories, for all of us.”

Lily pulled Harry back in her arms again. “How did you get so sweet, considering what you’ve been through?”

“Good genetics, I guess,” He joked.

🜃🝥🝮

The trip to New York is a resounding success; they even convinced Draco to attend (though Harry admitted later Draco’d ended up fronting half the bill as a condition of his joining). Hermione and Remus loved the New York Public Library, using Notice-Me-Not charms to slip away from the tour to make their own behind-the-scenes tour of the behind-the-scenes tour. Ron and Sirius charmed the giant chess set in Bryant Park to play a Wizards Chess game, under several Muggle-warding spells and not a small amount of disapproval from Hermione.

Sirius took them all on a drinking tour of Muggle NYC, stopping in famous writer’s bars like The White Horse Tavern as well as tacky tourist places (Sirius could do beatnik and cheese with equal ease, all while Remus watched fondly). 

They had to stop by MACUSA Headquarters in the Woolworth Building, where Harry was feted by slightly impressed but mostly ambivalent American wizards (Harry seemed most thrilled by how little they cared about him, and gave a brief, interesting lecture on the use of Expelliarmus in his battle against Voldemort).

Shortly after, they grabbed a drink at The Blind Pig. A far cry from its speakeasy days, it was now a chic cocktail bar that catered to MACUSA officials. One of the attendees of Harry’s lecture bought them a round, and explained goblin jazz. James pulled Lily out onto the dance floor, and, spinning under the soft lights, Lily looked into his eyes and knew she was in love with him.

“I hope I can remember this feeling,” She said, twirling him under her arm, “When we go back.”

“I’ll make you remember,” He answered, pulling her tight against him. 

The other couples joined them to dance. Lily looked up to see Harry and Draco in a dark corner, their heads close together, hands nearly touching. Lily smiled; she could see what was brewing. Here in America, Draco felt safe in his anonymity to approach Harry with ease, no matter how much Ron glared. Back in England, however… Lily knew things wouldn’t be as simple. She left a pouting James on the dance floor, and pulled Draco out to the terrace.

“Sorry to pull you away from your budding romance,” She teased.

Draco moved as if to go back inside, and Lily stopped him.

“I’m sorry! Sorry,” She said, pulling him down to the seat beside her. “I shouldn’t have teased; I knew the effect it would have, and I mean to encourage the opposite.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

She took his hand in hers, “Look after Harry,” She begged, “When we’re gone.”

“He has Ron, Hermione, a whole clan of Weasley’s, not to mention all of his Gryffindor crew, and oh, I don’t know, the whole Wizarding World for comfort,” Draco frowned.

“That’s not true, and you know it,” She tugged his hand, pulling him away from his own negativity. “Plus, only Ron and Hermione will have the closest understanding to what he’s going through, and that pales in comparison to what you’ll feel.”

Looking away, “And what’s that?”

She turned Draco’s gaze back to her. “You’ll be missing me, too. Maybe as much as Harry.” She smiled, “I haven’t forgotten how lonely you were, when we first began speaking through the crack in the wall. I think only Harry rivaled you in terms of sadness. Now that you’ve both had us, and will lose us at the same time… don’t you think you should comfort one another?”

“But…”

“And if you mention Ron and Hermione again, I’ll hex you. I love them, and they love Harry, but you know they’re afraid to push him. Not like you; you always give him a rope he can use to climb back out of whatever morose hole he’s dug himself into. Right after you’ve insulted him for getting there in the first place.”

Draco laughed, “I suppose that’s right. But how do you know he’ll want my help?”

Lily fixed him with an intense stare. “He won’t ask. He may even fight it. But Draco, this is the most important thing, and the only promise I’ll make you keep after I’m gone: don’t let Harry hide away. Help him, not only when he doesn’t want it, but especially when he doesn’t want it.”

Draco searched her eyes for something, before replying with a brief nod. “Ok. I promise.”

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

Returning from New York with the Marauders was a bittersweet affair. They’d all had so much fun, but there were still worlds left to explore. Hermione, Ron and Draco begged off the next leg of the trip, understanding Harry needed to do this alone. He was sorry to see Draco go, as it meant he’d now be serving as a fifth wheel with his parents, Sirius and Remus. But Draco had some additional conditions of his probation to serve out, as well as some mysterious financial dealings to oversee (Harry suspected there may be a number of new charities of anonymous origins founded over the holiday break, and he smiled to think of it).

So (ironically with his father’s money) Harry took the remaining Marauders on his Portkey tour of the world. He got to see Lily’s face light up at the Eiffel Tower, watch Sirius and James try to out drink each other in a Munich Biergarten, laugh at Sirius’s silly poses at the pyramids in Cairo, have Remus geek out over animals at the Galápagos Islands, and enjoy all of them awed into speechlessness at the New Zealand landscape.

Wherever they visited, Harry realized what mattered most was that they were there, together. 

“Put that camera away!” Lily cried, as Harry interrupted their viewing of the pastel-colored Amalfi Coast with the click-click-whirl of his Wizarding camera. “I’m beginning to have dreams where your head turns into a lens.”

Harry laughed; he had become a bit of a shutterbug, wanting to capture every moment. In his spare time, when the lovebirds disappeared to their respective bedrooms, he’d been pushing away his growing loneliness by making a scrapbook of their adventures. He’d always have the memories, but he wanted something tangible, as well.

“Fine, how about you take one of me, for a change?” Harry caved, handing off the camera, and turning his back to the magnificent view.

“Mind if I join?” A voice called out, and Draco appeared on the cobblestones before him, a vision in a linen Muggle suit, blue button-up partly open at the neck, his hair gently falling over his eyes in the slight wind.

Harry couldn’t stop the joy bubbling up in him at the sight.

Click-click-whirl . Harry groaned, and turned to Lily, who winked at him. “Trust me, that’s a photo you’ll want to keep.”

Draco turned to her with a confused look on his face, which morphed into shock when Harry pulled him over beside him.

“Come on, Draco. One for the scrapbook,” Harry put his arm around Draco and smiled for the camera.

After the photo, Harry asked Draco, “How come you’re here?”

Frowning, “Did you not want me to come?”

Harry pulled Draco into step beside him as they followed the other Marauders down the winding alleys toward the coast. “Of course I did, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Something in your last letter. You’d mentioned the others had gone to sleep and, I don’t know, you sounded lonely.”

Harry shook his head; he’d sent ten times lonelier letters to Ron and Hermione, but they hadn’t done what Draco had: shown up on the random streets of Positano because one off line in a letter made him sound in need of company.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked.

“Nothing,” Harry smiled. “The opposite, actually. I’m marveling at the fact you knew I needed you, and I didn’t even have to ask.”

“And you never will,” Draco said. It felt like a promise. More than that, it felt like a promise Harry could trust.

Later that night, with the film developed, and Draco slumbering in the other twin bed of their shared room, Harry ran his finger along the edges of the photo Lily had taken of the two of them. In the moving image, Harry watched an infinite loop of him, placing his arm around Draco with a smitten look on his face, and Draco, turning his head toward Harry with an unmasked look of yearning and awe. 

Harry didn’t put the photo in the scrapbook beside the others. Instead, he cast Impervious on it and slipped the photo into his wallet. Something like that shouldn’t be hidden away to be viewed once a year. Something like that ought to be kept near you; cherished.

Lying in bed, it was a long time before sleep came.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily

Lily had never dreaded Christmas quite so much. She was constantly disappearing into side rooms to wipe away tears and Glamour her puffy eyes. James caught her one morning, a few days before Christmas, and shut the door behind them.

“Do you think he’ll be ok without us?” Lily asked between hiccuping sobs.

“He fought off a dark lord and ended a war without us,” James said. “I think he’ll be fine.”

Lily hiccuped louder.

“Aw, Bambi,” He cooed, pulling her into his arms. “You don’t want him to be ok without us, do you? You selfish, sweet girl.”

She wanted to curl into the space between his shoulder and neck, then live there forever. I don’t want to go , her whole soul ached.

“I hate that nickname. I hate that movie . What were they thinking? Making a child’s movie about a boy losing his mother. It’s inhumane.”

“It’s a movie about a deer, Lily. It is literally inhumane.”

She huffed, “It’s unnatural, then. Don’t make fun.” But she laughed, all the same.

“Come on,” He said, pushing her out of the safe crook of his body. “Let’s go watch Sirius try to spell mistletoe to coax McGonagall into kissing Pomfrey.”

Sniffing, “You do have to admit they’d make a cute couple.”

“Sure,” Pushing her out of the side room. “Whatever you say, my love.”

🜃🝥🝮

Then, it was Christmas.

The Marauders had gone all out on decorations; the Gryffindor common room looked like Holiday cheer had vomited all over the furniture. Charmed mistletoe hung from all of the doorways (Harry and Draco seemed to be very cognizant of entering rooms together, afraid as they both were to suffer a first kiss in public). The tree James had picked out to decorate was far too large for the room; they couldn’t fit a star at the top due to its height. All over the room hung tinsel, stockings, garlands, and strings of popcorn they had to keep Ron from Hoovering.

“What, I’m hungry!” He complained, when Hermione caught him pulling string from his mouth.

The past-Marauders had forgone presents for each other; what was the point when they couldn’t bring anything home? Instead, they’d showered Harry with gifts to make up for all of his previous shitty Christmases.

“You guys,” Harry complained, finding yet another gift tucked in a corner (Sirius refused to put the gifts under the tree, choosing to bring an Easter tradition into Christmas celebrations). “Please tell me this is the last one.”

“This is the last one,” James, Sirius and Remus chorused.

Harry did not look like he believed them.

Twelve presents later, they could barely find Harry under the mound of new items. Most were clothes Sirius had picked out (‘If you’re going to be insanely famous,’ Sirius said, ‘You might as well look good when you’re being trampled.’), records Remus had selected, and Quidditch supplies James had purchased.

As for Lily? She’d gone a bit above and beyond.

“You wrote me a story?” Harry said, his eyes wide.

“Your story, Harry. Your real story.” She picked up the book, and flipped through the pages with him. “I used your scrapbooks from our travels and added in little bits about what happened in each place.”

Harry smiled as he looked through the book, “I’ll read this late,” He assured her. Swallowing, “After.”

“That’s not all,” She said, shoving her second present at him.

Harry turned over the battered copy of his unauthorized biography. “Draco’s drunken purchase?”

“Will anyone ever let that go?” Draco groaned.

Ignoring him, Harry opened the book. In the margins, as well as in several inserted pieces of parchment, the Marauders had added into the biography things Harry had shared in their discussions. The result was a book that felt… more like him. It included the good and bad, the mundane and brag worthy alike. Most of all, it included each of the Marauder’s handwriting, so that it felt as if it contained a piece of their hearts.

“It’s too much,” Harry blinked away the tears beginning to form.

“No, Harry,” Lily said, “It’s really not enough.”

🜃🝥🝮

Before she knew it, it was time.

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

What was the point of goodbyes? Harry barely remembered his parent’s deaths, except Lily’s screams which he heard when dementors passed nearby, and he hadn’t witnessed Remus’s death at all, just saw his gaunt and peaceful body laid out beside Tonks in the Great Hall. Sirius’s death Harry had watched, of course. Had seen him fall gracefully beyond the veil, a mix of fear and shock on his face, and, well.

Harry didn’t see the point in goodbyes.

He allowed the group to hug him individually, whispering words he couldn’t hear for the loud thumping of his heart in his chest. He nodded through each of them in turn, managing enough brainpower to slip Lily the sheet of parchment she’d helped him charm. The message was his own, and had remained secret until now. As far as last words went, they’d have to do.

Remus and Sirius went first, holding hands. Harry wondered how long they’d last, on the other side. He hoped forever, although he knew otherwise.

James sent Harry a lingering look, and his words were the first to pierce the silent dome Harry had constructed around his heart.

“You’ll be fine, Harry, even when you’re not. The trick is to keep walking forward, until each step feels lighter than the last.” His eyes darted to Draco. “I expect you’ll know it when you’re there.”

James paused, “I’m always with you, and I’m always proud,” Then he stepped through.

Lily lingered, her hands on Harry, like she was afraid if she stopped touching him he’d fall apart.

He spared a word or two for her, “You’ll hold me again.” Of all the Marauders, she needed him to say something.

“It won’t be the same,” She replied, tears streaming down her beautiful face. Even heartbroken, she was an angel. And he’d gotten to have her for a little longer. Wasn’t that nice?

“It’ll be better,” Harry reassured her. “He’ll be completely yours. Not broken at all.”

“Oh Harry, my Phoenix. You’re not broken at all.”

“See?” He ventured a smile. “I was right all along. There’s nothing to repair here.”

“No,” She said, bringing her hand up to his cheek, stroking away the tears he didn’t know had fallen. “I think my work here is done.”

She turned to give Draco a tight hug, and whispered something in his ear. Lily waved at Hermione and Ron one last time, then walked up to the wall. Looking back over her shoulder, she gave Harry one last fond smile, and then she, too, was gone.

Harry stared at the wall, found himself saying, “It’s ok. They can go now. I accept this gift.”

The crack in the wall disappeared, a fresh layer of paint spread across the room, movement Harry couldn’t help but trace. When Harry returned his gaze to the wall, he couldn’t see where the rift had been. It was like it had never been there at all.

He let out a shaky exhale. Hermione and Ron came over, each of them giving him another hug. Another set of words he couldn’t hear. He was grateful McGonagall hadn’t stayed for this.

“I’ll be fine,” He said. “I’d like to be alone now.”

Harry continued to stare at the wall, listening to the sounds of his friends’ retreating steps. He hoped they were on their way to the Burrow. He wouldn’t join today. He didn’t want to be alone, but he couldn’t go there. Suddenly, there was a hand in his that hadn’t been there a second ago. Harry turned his head. It was Draco.

“If you think I’m leaving you now, you’re a bigger idiot than I ever suspected,” Draco drawled, then squeezed Harry’s hand.

Harry laughed. 

“Come on,” Draco tugged. “Let’s go get a drink. Salazar knows I need one.”

“A drink, or ten?”

“Maybe twenty,” Draco admitted. “You’re buying, of course. You’re the one who’s loaded, after all.”

“Aren’t you?” Harry teased, turning to follow Draco out of the room.

“Oh no, haven’t you heard? I’ve lost my inheritance. Wasted it all on Hippogriff races and call girls.”

“Call girls?”

“Well, that’s what The Prophet’s reporting, anyways.”

“Ah, well. If it’s in the Prophet,” Harry smirked. “Funny thing, I just heard about a new charity. Think you’d like it. About war orphans. Or was it bringing the arts to Hogwarts? You know, maybe it was for Squib education. Strange how there’s been a rash of new charities lately.”

“Hmm, really? Boring, those. I hardly pay attention to them at all.”

“Completely unrelated, does this mean you’ll have to get a job? Since you’re broke and everything?”

“I suspect I will. Any suggestions?”

“I might have heard there was a handsome young wizard looking for someone to help him sweep the cobwebs from his Wizarding home.”

“Did you read about that job in the back pages? Sounds illicit.”

“It might be. You interested?”

“For you? Potter, don’t you know? I’d do anything for you.”

By the end of their conversation, they’d reached the gates of Hogwarts. Funny, Harry’d hardly been thinking about the effort each step took. Things felt lighter, with Draco’s hand in his.

“Your place or mine?” Harry asked.

“Yours,” Draco replied. “And mine.”

Raising an eyebrow, “You sure?”

“Never been more certain, now, if you’ll come here,” Draco said, pulling Harry closer. “You have a,” He reached his hand up to the back of Harry’s neck, “Something,” He leaned in, “Right about,” Then, Draco kissed Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry blinked, when they both managed to pull away.

Draco smirked, “Now, are you going to take me home, or what?”

“I’m already there,” Harry smiled. “So why don’t I take you to Grimmauld Place, instead?”

Chapter Text

Lily

It was rare for a child to open his eyes this early, but Harry would be anything but ordinary; Lily was sure of that. His green eyes blazed into hers, and she felt an intensity there. Like gravity, drawing her in. As she held her newborn son in her arms, James by her side, only the three of them existed in the whole universe.

She’d never felt anything like it, but she instantly loved him with all her soul.

So why did it also feel like déjà vu?

The nurse took him from Lily for a quick clean-up as was standard procedure, Harry screaming bloody murder the second he left Lily’s arms.

“Let me,” Lily said, reaching out for Harry. 

“This is highly unusual,” The nurse frowned.

Lily waggled her arms more emphatically, “ I’m highly unusual; give him here.”

Reluctantly, the nurse returned Harry, who stopped crying when his skin came into contact with Lily.

“Hello, my beautiful man,” She cooed, and Harry gurgled. 

And when he looked up at her, all love and trust in his eyes, she swore she knew him already.

🜃🝥🝮

Lily watched James play with Harry. They hadn’t taken to each other instantly, like Lily and Harry had. Instead, they seemed to circle around each other, sniffing, trying to discern a safe distance. Until one day, James was changing Harry’s diaper, and the baby farted right in James’s face. Harry’s lower lip trembled, on the verge of tears, but James let out a raucous laugh, nearly choking with the force of his joy.

Harry lit up with the sight.

“Lily!” James called, as if she weren’t already enthralled. “Lily, Harry just gave me his first smile!”

Somehow, Lily knew: no matter what happened to Harry, he’d always be able to find the joy in life.

🜃🝥🝮

The Marauders came to pay their respects. Sirius first, who revelled in Harry’s laughter and did whatever he could to sustain it. Remus second, a little wary due to his ‘furry little problem’, but Harry immediately reached out his arms to Remus when the two laid eyes on each other. As Remus held Harry, who promptly fell asleep, Lily could see the tears in his eyes; touched as he was by Harry’s inherent trust. Peter was the last to visit, and something about his and Harry’s interactions turned Lily’s stomach. But she wouldn’t say anything to James; it would be the height of disloyalty for her to question Peter’s intentions.

🜃🝥🝮

The growing war cast a shadow on Harry’s new life, and with it came a bittersweet taste in Lily’s mouth that wouldn’t go away.

“Why do I feel like there’s something missing?” She asked James, keeping Harry close to her chest. “Like there’s a memory I should have, just off the tip of my tongue.”

James shook his head. “I don’t know, Lily. But I feel it too. Like the best and worst thing has just happened to us.”

“Maybe that’s parenthood,” She attempted a smile.

“Maybe,” He tried one back.

While they loved Harry with all of their heart, neither of them could help feeling like their time with him was slowly slipping away.

🜃🝥🝮

Eventually, there was a prophecy, and Lily, James, and Harry went into hiding.

“Why does this feel like the end?” James asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Lily turned her gaze to the parchment they had framed over the mantle, which never failed to comfort her, although the effect lasted shorter and shorter these days. Only Lily, Remus, Sirius, and James could read its actual words; to anyone else, it said some clichéd phrase like ‘Home Sweet Home’ or ‘Love Lives Here’. Professor Dumbledore had been the only person to read anything more substantial. 

“‘Just because it is happening inside your head, does not mean it is not real’,” The Headmaster had read, fixing Lily with a curious gaze upon finding it. 

Remus, Sirius, James, and Lily had just returned from a mysterious trip, which none of them could recall, though it had lasted months. Between the four of them, they had brought back only one souvenir: a blank piece of parchment. Well, they’d thought it blank until Professor Dumbledore had tried to read it, coming up with the mysterious saying. 

It wasn’t until all four of them were alone that it revealed its actual words. “Everything that was once lost will be returned to you in the end.The important thing to remember, now, is that you only have a short time on this Earth. Use it wisely. Tell the people you love how you feel, take that chance you’ve been putting off, be the person you want your Eulogy to describe. And, Lily Evans, for Merlin’s sake, just kiss James Potter already. He’s been waiting long enough, and you know you want to; stop pretending he isn’t the one. PS Harry’s a nice name, isn’t it?”

Lily had blushed, and wavered on the command, but James hadn’t; no sooner had he read the words did he pounce on her, showering her face with cute, little pecks, before pulling back and asking, “Is this all right?” waiting for her emphatic, “ Yes ,” then returning for less G-rated kissing (Lily tried to ignore the fact that, while kissing James felt right , it also felt familiar, like she’d done it already, once, in a dream).

Back in the present, James followed Lily’s gaze, and smiled as he read the parchment.

“The best wing man in England, that parchment,” He teased.

“Hush you,” Lily laughed.

James shook his head, “All the baby name books in the world, and we had to pick ours from a parchment of unknown origin.”

“I don’t think it’s unknown at all,” Lily admitted, the first time she’d done so since they returned from their adventure. “I think Harry wrote it for us.”

James turned sharply toward her, then flicked his eyes to the sleeping one year old. “Maybe this doesn’t feel like the end, after all.”

🜃🝥🝮

When Lily heard James cry out, it was almost as if she expected it. Like she’d been waiting for this tragedy for years. Her heart barely registered the loss at all; there was simply no time. She could hear His footsteps advance on the nursery, each step slurred into the other. A snake's crawl.

Lily’s heart knew what to do before her mind did. After all, she’d known the day she met Harry she’d do anything for him. She’d never hold back.

Except it wasn’t the memory of meeting baby Harry she recalled. Instead of pinkish blotches and patchy black hair, she saw a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders. I knew it , she thought, I knew you’d left that note for me.

She gasped.

Voldemort entered the room. Lily should have frozen in fear. She should have been transfixed by the evil on his face. This was a man who would kill a baby, her baby, for the chance at immortality.

But all Lily could see when she flung her body in the path between her only son and the killing curse aimed at him was the crack in the wall over Voldemort’s shoulder. A landscape she recognized as much as she’d know the lines in the palm of her hand.

Green light flashed, and in the back of Lily’s mind whispered a single, beautiful word,

“Gift.”

🜃🝥🝮

Harry

Leaning over the crib, Harry watched little James slumber. Draco curled up behind him, kissing the nape of his neck.

“Did we ever sleep so soundly?” Draco asked.

“Not recently,” Harry smiled. “And not for awhile, most likely."

“Worth it,” Draco’s lips muttered against Harry’s skin.

Harry agreed with all his heart.

Eventually, the two new fathers peeled themselves away from the entrancing sight of their peaceful newborn. They crept into the bedroom, where Harry flopped onto the bed with a groan, and Draco broke off to wash his face in their en suite.

“Should we attempt to rest, or could I tempt you with a Firewhiskey?” Draco called from the bathroom.

“You can always tempt me with Firewhiskey,” Harry replied, though he was reluctant to leave the soft comfort of their mattress.

Draco came back and smirked at Harry’s half-hearted attempt to get up.

“Why don’t you stay here and I’ll bring the whiskey to you?” Draco offered.

Harry moaned. “Is it possible to love you even more than I did a second ago?”

Draco hmphed as he left the room. “It is always possible to love me more,” He called from the stairs.

“Git,” Harry taunted fondly.

Taking a long stretch, Harry allowed himself the luxury of a long blink or two. He knew Draco would wake him, and he’d be much more willing to stay awake with a glass of Firewhiskey in front of him.

“...Harry?” Draco cried out from the living room, and the tone in his voice had Harry on his feet in seconds.

Racing into the hallway, down the stairs, and sliding into the living room with his wand raised, Harry was ready for anything that could threaten his husband and child.

But not this.

His wand arm dropped as Harry surveyed the audience that greeted him.

“Hello, Harry,” Lily said. “I think we’re here to stay, this time.”

Harry turned to Draco, who looked just as flabbergasted as Harry felt.

“What do you mean, here to stay?” Draco asked.

Harry couldn’t speak. He simply looked person to person. Taking in their ages, all about the same as him and Draco, somewhere shy of 26. Lily and James looked ruffled but pleased; Harry wondered if they’d come from battling Voldemort. Remus and Sirius… it was hard to tell with Remus, but it only took one look into Sirius’s eyes for Harry to know, despite his youthful appearance, this was Harry’s Sirius. The one who’d suffered through Azkaban, been labeled a traitor by his first love, promised Harry the world then died protecting him. Sirius gave him an imperceptible head shake; Harry wasn’t meant to betray his experiences, not yet anyways.

His survey took all of a second, and slowly, a grin spread across Harry’s face. He understood, now. Why they’d come into the future. Why he’d been forced to send them back to their deaths. Why they had chosen, just now, to barrel back into his life.

Seeing them now, knowing what was in the other room, Harry knew what they all were. A gift.

Luckily, Harry hadn’t come unprepared. He had something just as precious to share in return.

“Welcome back,” He said, his previous exhaustion all but forgotten. “Come with me. There’s someone I want you to meet.”