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Chapter Text

    “Oh Harry, you are too good to me.” Andromeda Tonks told Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding World, Godfather to her grandson and all around good guy. The daylight was just beginning to fade. Orange light from the beautiful sunset glinted off nearby windows. Grimmuald Place was quiet, most of its residents were older and retired inside earlier than the children ever had on similarly beautiful summer days when he was young. The quiet of the street was serene compared to the eerie silence of house number 12 behind him. Harry laughed at her.

            “Andy, I only took him for a few hours. You’re the one doing all the hard work. Besides it’s always nice to see you, and I like spending time with Teddy. I wish I could do better for him—be better for him.”  Harry told her, tickling the toddler in her arms. She gave him and exasperated but fond smile.

            “You never had the best role models to follow, but you do fabulously with him. I just wish better for you. It isn’t healthy—being alone in this dreary old house.” He kissed her cheek and waved good bye to his godson as she spun on the ball of her foot and disapparated.

            With a sigh he closed the front door and headed upstairs. He passed where Walburga Black’s painting had hung. When all else had failed he had decided to remove the wall altogether, building an open archway which opened the hall into the sitting room that had been on the other side. He was in the process of peeling off the wallpaper which had lighter silhouettes from the House Elf heads that had hung there. Slowly he was reclaiming the house from its dark past.

He headed to the smallest bedroom which he had converted into an office. It was where he kept all of the notes on his latest project. The dark mahogany desk was almost completely cluttered up with papers and books outlining temporal paradoxes, time travel, and both muggle and magical theories on time-based mechanics. Balanced precariously on a comprehensive tome about time was the first Time-Turner created since the attack on the Department of Mysteries five years previous.

            Sitting on top of several hastily scrawled notes sat a translucent golden yellow box. It was made of a delicate glass melted from sand that came from a room that had been sealed for several millennia. In between the two planes of glass that formed the outer and interior sides of the box was a goodly amount of the potion that crystalized into the “sand” of a Time-Turner. This was what Harry had been working towards for the last three years. Or, at least, it was the vehicle needed to reach his goal.

            When looking out at the devastation left over from the final battle Harry had wished that he could somehow reach back into the past and forewarn them. He’d do nearly anything to try and save some of the lives lost. The project had started one day during Hogwarts’ reconstruction. He’d been assigned the task of sorting through the library’s surviving books. Out of boredom he’d idly flipped through a book on the ethics of time travel. A few key passages had inspired hope in him and soon he found that picking up and reading treatises on time was a hobby. After a while of watching Andromeda Tonks struggle to keep up with Teddy and seeing all of those who hadn’t healed from their losses in the war it became more than that. Finally though Harry thought he may have found a way to do it. He had no interest in going back in time himself, which was good because he’d calculated what it’d take to do such a thing and the list included an insanely ridiculous amount of energy. Much less impossible was sending a simple letter a decade back.

            “I would have thought your little foray into the time stream in your third year would have satiated any desire you had to meddle with the fourth dimension.” A deep and gravelly voice commented, Harry could feel it vibrate in his feet, though that could have been from the power of the speaker. He was taken aback when he had whipped around in the swivel chair seated at the desk. He’d been carefully composing the letter he intended to send back in time, and was thoroughly distracted by the sight before him. Sitting in a previously unoccupied armchair was Remus Lupin, or what Remus Lupin used to be, or what might simply be something posing as Remus Lupin. He was wearing a pitch dark suit that was well fitted but seemed to fray at the edges into little ebony wisps. Harry found himself completely discombobulated.

            “You’re not Remus.” He blurted. Dumbly he attempted to close his mouth and gather his wits. The figure-that-wasn’t-Remus laughed. It was an eerie sound that wasn’t really a laugh. A razor sharp grin that had never belonged on the mild Remus’ face appeared.

            “Of course not, I am unable to appear in my own form before those not yet fated to die.”

            Harry blinked, “So you’re, what, Death?”

            “Yes, Young Master”

Harry sat back and contemplated the figure before him. Mirroring him Death also leant back, crossing one leg over the other and folding his hands over his knee. A moment or two passed before the ethereal being began to speak again. “When we first met you expected someone with answers so I took the form of him who you expected them from, Albus Dumbledore.” He gave his master a moment to allow this to sink in before continuing. “Now you want someone who is reasonable and intelligent. “He gestured to his current form.

            “You were the one to talk to me at King’s Cross? Why speak to me now?” Harry asked leaning forward, eager for answers.

            “It was Limbo, actually. It appears differently to each individual.” Death answered.

            “And?” Harry asked. Death shrugged.

            “I’m still amazed that it presented itself as somewhere as open ended as King’s Cross Station. It isn’t usually so specific a place either. I had only asked out of curiosity of what my Master might see. Usually a soul only sees one, maybe two, choices before them. But you—“Death’s eyes glowed with an eagerness, a hunger, a hatred “—you saw yourself with more options than you could be bothered to count, a multitude of destinations. It was enlightening, and baffling.”

            “That doesn’t explain why you’re here though.” Harry reminded him. “Now I’m curious to know what you see.” Remus’ hair swished as Death shook his head.

            “I cannot enter Limbo or the afterlife without a soul. I only ever see what my target imagines. As for why I’m here, it is to offer my assistance.” He held his palms out to either side in a faux gesture of sincerity and innocence. “I am omnipotent. I exist in no singular moment or place. Traveling back ten years is as easy as taking a step to the side.” He smiled again, but it was still too predatory for Harry to be comfortable seeing it on Remus’ face. “You desire to cross time. I can enable that; without any consequences from your risible Ministry of Magic.”

            Harry eyed the figure in front of him. He had a feeling that Death had chosen its form for more than Remus’ intelligence. Snape’s form would have worked just as well, except Snape never have Harry’s trust like Remus had. He knew he could trust Remus. The being wearing his mentor’s face, he could not. Harry wished he had a better grasp of Death’s personality. Could he put his faith in the entity’s word? Would he/she/it lie to him? Or was it the type of being that relied on slated interpretations to come out on top? After several minutes of contemplation Harry decided to accept Death’s offer. He carefully considered the wording of his request to avoid any loopholes Death might want to exploit.

            “My desire is to forewarn the past, thus forearming them and ideally saving lives. Is that an issue for you?” Harry asked. Death just shrugged, so Harry continued. “I have written a letter-” he turned back to the desk to scrawl out the valediction and his signature before sealing the envelope. “I want you to deliver it to Albus Dumbledore in November 1981, please.” Death accepted the letter without comment and tucked it away into the inner breast pocket of his jacket.

            “I can do that.” He answered casually.

            “Good, but will you?” Harry asked. Death smiled another sharp grin, two neat rows of pearly and pointed teeth showing.

            “Yes” Death hissed, his form dissolving.

            “Thank you.” Harry said sincerely before the smoky wisps had fully dissipated. With his unexpected guest gone, the savior turned back to the desk and began to tidy it up. He filed his notes away, tucked the books into the bookshelf, and carefully stored the Time-Turner and his experiment in a locked drawer. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He quietly spent the rest of his evening working on stripping the wall paper in the second floor landing and went to bed feeling satisfied.

            His awakening was considerably more distressing. He felt something constricting his chest and limbs. His face was smothered ad everything was dark. There was a rapid thumping coming from all around him. The bands around him tightened at his head before giving and tightening on his chest and giving. There was the sensation of sliding before it began again. Heart racing his mind scrambled to understand what was happening to him when suddenly the world was too bright and cold. He was wet, which he’d failed to notice before, and he felt exposed. He could hear people talking as he tried to open his eyes and breathe around the gunk in his throat. Something was forced into his mouth and suddenly sweet oxygen flooded his burning lungs. He gave a great lusty wail.

There were sounds of joy as he was bundled up in a blanket that seemed several sizes too large. It constantly felt as if he was falling up and being turned over until finally he was laid to rest cradled against something warm and soft. It gently gave way before pushing out again in a steady, soothing rhythm. Breathing. The thumping from before had calmed and he now recognized it as a heartbeat. He was so exhausted, and everything smelled familiar and comforting.

“Merlin Lils, they’re beautiful. I can’t believe we’re parents, let alone to twins!” A voice rumbled.

“We’ll name the first Harry James like we planned, but what of our second son?” The voice was soft and tired. He could feel her words vibrating in her chest. Vibrated in the chest he rested on. His mother’s chest, he realized. He had just been born, again, to the same parents. He probably couldn’t kill Death, but maybe he could rearrange his face?

“Arrdyn. When I read As You Like It I thought it would make a lovely boys name.” Someone made to protest but she reminded him that he’d picked Harry.

“What about his middle name?” The other voice, his father, asked chuckling. His mother hummed and Harry—now Arrdyn—felt himself nodding off.

            “Evan maybe? After my maiden name?”

            “Hmm…”A new voice started. “Harry James Potter and Arrdyn Evan Potter, not too bad Jamsie. They’re almost as handsome as me.”

            “Sirius…” Yet another voice began. The rest of the conversation was lost to Arrdyn as his exhaustion overcame him.

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            “Lily!” Someone cried, pounding on the front door. Arrdyn roused from where he slept resting against his mother’s chest. Lily got up from the couch. Harry was a quiet baby who fell asleep easily and played happily. Arrdyn was equally quiet but he was too curious making him resistant to sleep. Often after laying Harry down they would sway and walk around with Arrdyn to lull him to sleep.

            “Go away Severus!” She told the door, standing with her son in the foyer. “I won’t forgive you. You called me a mudblood and joined him!” There was a sob on the other side of the door.

            “I don’t care if you don’t forgive me! But please, please listen right now. I regret that day with every breath but this isn’t about us. It’s about your sons. Please.” Severus Snape begged. Lily was silent for a moment. She looked down at Arrdyn; his soulful green eyes stared back.

            “Fine, I won’t open the door. I can’t even look at your face anymore, but I’ll listen.” Snape made a keening noise but after a moment he began.

            “Earlier this summer I overheard part of a prophesy. It said that the one to defeat the Dark Lord would be born at the end of July. You weren’t due until August so I thought nothing of reporting it to him. He thinks it’s one of the twins. He’s making plans on when it’d be best to kill all of you.” They heard him sob again but he continued. “There’s a spy in the Order of the Phoenix. I think it’s someone from our year. Please Lily, I’ll do anything, just please hide yourselves away and trust no one with the knowledge of where.”

            “And what of Frank and Alice? Their son Neville—” she demanded.

            “Bellatrix Lestrange. She’s barren—Thank God—but it was caused by Frank Longbottom’s spell. She said they’re hers to punish. The Dark Lord thinks that your family poses a bigger threat, especially since identical twins tend to be very powerful.” He answered.

            “I’ll trust you Severus, but only on two conditions.” She told him, shifting Arrdyn’s weight from one side to the other and gently swaying the infant.

            “Anything”

            “I want you to go to Dumbledore—change sides.” He choked.

            “That’s a death sentence!” He cried and it was a moment before he could speak again.

            “I’ll do it.” He said finally, sounding defeated. Lily said nothing.

            “You’re the cleverest person I know Severus. I know you can do it, and survive.” She told him softly. He whispered that he was undeserving of such faith. “For my second condition,” She continued, as if she hadn’t reassured him. “I want you to swear to me that you will protect my sons. Protect them as if they were me.”

            “I swear to protect them even at the cost of my own life.” Lily sighed with relief, thanking him. Mother and child heard the pop of his disapparation. When Lily turned around it was to find her husband standing in the living room doorway. He had a still sleepy Harry in his arms and was clad in his red Auror robes.

            “You-Know-Who is—” she began.

            “Lily, don’t you think it’s time you forgave him? He’s done nothing to—”

            “He became a Death Eater! You don’t get to lecture me on childhood grudges, James! You and Sirius still call him Snivellus!” She shouted, high-strung from stress. James held up one hand and gestured for her to calm down.

            “I haven’t called him that since seventh year, and Arrdyn is more mature than Sirius. He was your best friend and you’ve been holding a grudge for nearly six years over something said in anger and embarrassment. He apologized a few hours later!” James admonished. “He wouldn’t have turned to Lucius Malfoy and You-Know-Who if you had forgiven him and continued to be his friend.” Lily turned away in shame.

            “I can’t forgive him yet because I can’t forget how it felt to have just been defending him and justifying my friendship with him and worrying if he was okay only for him to throw it all back in my face and call me a…a…mudblood. It hurt and every time I see him it hurts again! I’ve never been good with letting go of grudges to begin with.”

            “Lily, you can’t—“

            “Forget it James. We need to Floo Dumbledore, There’s a prophesy about the boys.” She said before stalking past him to the fireplace in their living room.

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            “Come on Pup! Say Padfoot. Pa~dfoooot. I’ll settle for Pa’ foo if it’s easier. Please?” Sirius begged a drooling Harry. Harry gave him a gap toothed smile and slobbered all over the new stuffed dog his godfather had given him. Arrdyn watched his brother and younger self, using him as a measuring stick for development. They had both said another new word the other day and Sirius was determined to be their next. Arrdyn clutched his new stuffed wolf. He’d been given plenty of new toys since being ‘born’ but he couldn’t get over the elation of receiving one. He allowed himself a giggle at Sirius’ antics and shrieked with surprised happiness when Remus unexpectedly scooped him up off the blanket and blew a raspberry on his stomach.

            “Give it up Padfoot, Moony will be their next word won’t it my serious little cub?” He playfully gave Arrdyn an Eskimo Kiss, rubbing their noses together. After a moment of debate Arrdyn went for it.

            “Moooney!” He cried giggling

            “Mooey!” Harry echoed also laughing.

            “Moony!” Arrdyn repeated.

            “Moony!” His brother agreed. Both the twins and Remus laughed uproariously as Sirius pulled at his hair in exaggerated frustration before suddenly turning on Harry and tickling him mercilessly.

            “I’ll get you for that you little miscreant!” Suddenly there was the bang of a kitchen cabinet slamming closed and James’ voice could be heard from the kitchen.

            “Lily! We are not changing Secret Keepers! Sirius won’t betray us! Please, just calm down. Let’s have a nice little birthday diner for the boys.” They could hear Lily saying something back but she was too quiet to hear. Remus turned to Sirius, concerned.

            “The Fidelus Charm?” He asked, bouncing his godson. Arrdyn pretended to be distracted by this while he listened closely for the conversation in the other room. Sirius refused to look up at the werewolf.

            “Snivellus told her that there was a spy in the order and that it was someone from our year at Hogwarts so she wants them to move to the Peverell Castle with Mad-eye or Arthur Weasley as Secret Keeper. We’re still trying to get it set up. It probably won’t be cast until closer to Halloween. You know you’re her favorite of us Moony.” Remus sighed and sat down next to his friend.

            “I’m not the spy, but I’m glad I wasn’t asked to be made secret keeper. I’m most likely to run into You-Know-Who and be legillimized.”

Sirius shuddered and lifted Harry up over his head.

            “Ugh, imagining him in my head. Icky Icky!” He told the toddler. Harry and Arrdyn laughed.

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            "Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off –“James called up the stairs to her. She practically threw aside their copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard and started searching through their dresser. A flick of her wrist quietly snaps the door closed, cutting off the sounds of ricocheting spellfire and James and Voldemort’s duel. She pulls out a thick tome and a silver ritual knife. Lily slices one wrist open and rubs the welling blood along inside of their crib, over the runes already carved there. They shared one because Harry had become fussy over recent weeks and refused to sleep parted from his brother. She flipped through the tome leaving blood smeared on its pages.

            “Ancestors I beseech—no wait.” She flipped a few more pages and began again. “On this Samhain I beseech thee, Spirits who guard our family, souls wronged by the Evil who Flies from Death, protect and save my sons.” She whispered over Harry, marking a lightening shaped rune on his forehead in her blood. They heard the thud of James body near the top of the stairs and Lily choked on her tears and repeated the plea over Arrdyn, marking his forehead as well. She had just finished a Celtic incantation out of the tome when Voldemort blasted their nursery door open. Voldemort laughed his high pitched cackle. She turned to face him. He had an armored chest plate in his left hand.  The golden lion crest gave away it’s once owner. Voldemort smiled at her amused when she raised her wand.

            “Not my boys! Please! Not my baby boys!” She cried, frightened but unable to abandon her children.

            “Stand aside you silly girl. Severus has begged so prettily for your life and I will spare it if you stand aside now.” The evil man told her, entering the room and stepping so that he was had an unobstructed view of the occupied crib. A low thrum of magic started. Whispers faded in and out as figures formed from the shadows cast by the moon, her reading lamp, and the harsh florescent light from the hallway.

            “A decision,” they said. “Your life or your sons?” they asked. Lily made a small step so that she shielded the crib and its contents with her body. The runes lit up like embers stoked.

            “Not my boys, please no! Take me! Kill me instead—” she pleaded with him. Voldemort frowned at her before snorting in disgust. The shadows began to writhe and unfurl into even more forms until the walls of their nursery were crowded with people’s shadows. The adults didn’t react and Arrdyn suspected they couldn’t see them. Dizzy from blood loss Lily stumbled back, dropping the ritual knife within the confines of their crib. Voldemort narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

            “It doesn’t matter what you’ve done to protect them it won’t work.” He told her. “You aren’t the first mother who has tried.” He set the chest plate down and Lily eyed it warily but he didn’t explain its purpose, just smiled nastily at her. The two adults stared at each other a bit. Arrdyn, however, was distracted by a form sliding, smooth as silk, into the room and over to their crib.

            ‘A Lethifold*?’ Arrdyn wondered, ‘On tonight of all nights?’ the hum of magic was nearly deafening now. His head pulsed with it and the room resonated with it. He could hear the windows rattle slightly with power. Voldemort raised his wand and Lily began to beg him.

            “Not my sons! Please! Have mercy… have mercy…” Her voice was weak. Drained from blood loss and the magic she’d expended to protect her sons. Voldemort just laughs at her and with a casual flick of his wand and a deadpan “Avada Kedavra” their mother slumps over, dead. Arrdyn cried out at her death and Harry, who had been quiet all night, began to cry with his brother. Voldemort eyed the two sobbing toddlers with distaste. The forms on the walls were still. The Dark lord raised his wand again, pointing it at Harry. Arrdyn quickly pulls his brother into a hug trying to shield him with his own body as much as possible.

            “Oldest first I think.” He murmurs to himself before casting the Killing Curse once again. The shadows descend on Voldemort as their father’s invisibility cloak flings itself over the twins just in time. But even Death’s cloak can’t completely stop the killing curse and a weak beam hits Harry where their mother had marked a symbol for power. Harry screamed. Fighting the wraiths that tore at him Voldemort waded over to the crib and scrabbled for their fragile throats. Soon though the angry spirits win and the dark lord collapses into ashes and smoke. Harry collapsed as well and a shaky Arrdyn tries to jostle him awake, chubby fingers searching for a pulse.

            “He’s still alive. Your presence hasn’t altered anything important yet.” Cedric’s voice washes over Arrdyn like a bucket of ice water. He looks up to see a 17-year-old Cedric Diggory, still clad in his championship robes, leaning over their crib. “Becoming a—what did Dumbledore call it?—ah, yes, a Horcrux, is painful business. Your brother’s simply passed out.” Arrdyn continued to stare at him. “I know, I know, Cedric is busy learning to ride his first children’s broom and definitely not dead. However, you have yet to do anything to change his fate. Would you rather I take the form of Collin Creevy? He was even younger when he died.” Death said. He picked up the ritual knife and began to idly play with it. “The Fates are not happy with me for sending you back the way I did. I told them I was just following your wishes but they pay special attention to you and disagree. So, oh great and glorious Master, do you have any orders while I’m here? No? O—“

            “S-scarrr…” Arrdyn managed. He had to carefully think about how his mouth moved and prevent his tongue from tangling itself. Just because he knew the words didn’t mean that his body didn’t have to learn how to form them. The haughty grin fell off of Death’s face.

            “What?!” He growled.

            “Giv-ve me… f-the Scar” Arrdyn repeated clumsily pointing to the wound that was sluggishly bleeding on Harry forehead. Death frowned at him, wondering how he could pervert the order or if he should. When he had first set Harry Potter back in time he’d calculated a less than 5% chance of his master not causing the second rise of Voldemort to be worse than before. So far though, nothing dramatic had changed, in fact everyone was still slated to die how and when they had before. Even the delicate circumstances surrounding his survival of Voldemort’s first attack had remained the same. He was beginning to suspect that he had underestimated his first (and probably only) master. Just now he saw no harm in obeying the order and so he took the knife in his hand and deftly cut the increasingly familiar mark into Arrdyn’s forehead. Just as he finished, Severus Snape burst into the room. Surprised, Death dropped the knife and burst into shadows.

            Snape rushed to their side and looked them over carefully. He wetted a receiving blanket with his tongue to clean both of their foreheads of blood to get a better look at their wounds. Harry began to rouse at his ministrations and started fussing. Awkwardly Snape tried to console and quiet the baby before casting a weak healing charm on them both. It obviously wasn’t his best spell because the cuts barely scabbed over. His attentions were enough that an exhausted Harry cried himself to sleep a few minutes later. Arrdyn watched him quietly, and seeing the two boys settled Snape crumpled in sorrow next to Lily’s corpse. His body was so tired that Arrdyn couldn’t help being dragged into sleep. Snape’s sobs echoed in his ears and dreams.

            Severus Snape watched over them until he was forced to flee at the sound of Sirius’ motorcycle. The animagus could be heard entering the remains of their house and carefully making his way through the house. It hurt to hear Sirius’ howl of pain at finding James’ body and he choked back a sob when he made it to the nursery and saw Lily’s body. He passed by both of his friends corpses and picked up Harry. Realizing that he needed both hands to carry everything he set a protesting Harry back in the crib and fetched a muggle baby carrier Lily had insisted on them getting. Arrdyn was loaded into the back of the carrier and Harry was put in the front. He quickly packed a diaper bag with everything they needed until it was fit to burst.

            “I’ll get you to Moony and then come back and take care of your mum and dad. Okay pups?” He told them as he carried them and the bag down the stairs and past James’ crumpled form. Just as they were passing the living room the Floo flared up. Sirius’ wand was up and at the ready before Hagrid’s hulking form could even step out of the grate. Sirius sighed in relief when he saw who it was.

            “Hagrid. I nearly hexed you until your beard was sideways.” Sirius told him. Hagrid looked over to him.

            “Ah! Sirius, Dumbledore sent me ta fetch the lil’ ones.” Hagrid told him looking at the destruction wrought on the house.

            “I was just going to drop them off at Remus’—“Sirius started.

            “We still don’ know who the mole is in the Order is. Are ya sure we can trust ‘im?” Hagrid interrupted. Sirius’ face darkened in anger.

            “Remus is Arrdyn’s Godfather! Besides, I know who the rat is and when I get my hands on him…” Sirius growled. Hagrid rubbed the back of his shaggy head.

            “Well, Dumbledore’s expectin’ me wi’ the boys in Surrey.” He told the shorter man. Sirius frowned.

            “Surrey? He’s leaving them with the Dursleys? Is he mad?! She’s the last person Lily and James would trust the boys with!” Sirius exploded having remembered the disdainful woman and her pompous husband from the Potters’ wedding. Hagrid recoiled at his outburst.

            “Ahm sure ya can go an’ get ‘em as soon as everythin’ settles down.” The half-giant placated. Eventually Hagrid convinced the last male Black to hand his precious cargo over much to Arrdyn’s distress. Sirius kissed them both, promising to return for them which only made Arrdyn cry harder, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t even get a trial to try and defend himself. Sirius looked up at the other man, deadly serious.

            “I am trusting them with you, Hagrid. These boys are my only family left. Don’t break my trust.” Hagrid nodded solemnly back.

            “Ah won’” Sirius gave Hagrid a crash course on driving his beloved motorcycle. The two men almost forgot the diaper bag except Arrdyn was sure to cry for his ‘Moony’ which in turn caused Harry to cry for his Pa’ foo. They arranged the blankets into a nest for the boys in the side car. The bag was buckled into the seat with them. Still sore and tired Harry was in and out of wakefulness for most of the trip. Arrdyn tried to stay awake to witness how they had come into their Aunt’s care but eventually he too drifted off.

Chapter Text

            Petunia’s shriek woke them and half the neighborhood the next morning. Arrdyn was surprised to find himself on the doorstep while Petunia read a letter. He had always assumed that the Dursleys were exaggerating when they had claimed that he’d been left on their doorstep. He could not believe that Dumbledore would leave two toddlers alone on a doorstep on a chilly November night. They could have awoken and wandered off or suffered from Hypothermia, or been taken by a passerby. He’d left them with nothing but a letter to explain their presence. The callousness of telling someone that their family was dead and that they’d been given guardianship of two infants in an impersonal letter was appalling. Their resentment was almost justifiable. Well, as justifiable as criminal neglect could be. Especially if the person in question didn’t know Vernon or Petunia’s abhorrence of the extraordinary and need for social standing and acceptance.

            Their possessions were raided. The hand carved crib that had been shrunken down was thrown away along with their nutrient potions. Most of their toys were given to Dudley to replace the ones of his own that he’d broken. While Uncle Vernon was at work, Aunt Petunia cleaned out the cupboard under the stairs. Everything was swept out and the harsh chemicals were either moved elsewhere or onto a higher shelf they couldn’t reach. Uncle Vernon lugged a twin mattress into the house when he got home from work. His face red and grunting from the exertion, he hauled it into the cupboard. Aunt Petunia quickly put some old sheets and a musty quilt on it. A pillow was placed on each end and Moony and Padfoot, the only toys they were allowed, were throw half-hazard on top. The two blankets that had been packed in their diaper bag were folded and placed on the lowest shelf.

            Harry and Arrdyn had cried most of the day from hunger until their aunt had smacked them both. Faces still red and sore the twins were given their supper, the first meal they’d been allowed that day, and locked into the cupboard for the night. They were left in near complete darkness with nothing to comfort them but each other and the two canine stuffed animals.

            The next several months were miserable for the twins. Arrdyn continued to watch Harry, unable to remember how he had initially reacted to being orphaned and foisted off on the Dursleys. Eventually Harry stopped crying for their mother, father, and godfathers. By the time their second birthday rolled around the harsh treatment had become normal for them. Potty training a year later was a nightmare Arrdyn was glad he hadn’t remembered before and wished he could forget this time around. Petunia didn’t trust them with many chores but there were a few she had them do. They often had to pick up dirty laundry and Dudley’s toys, or, when they were tall enough to wrestle with the broom, sweep. Arrdyn sent Harry off to play or tackle some easier task when he could. Mopping though, they did together.

            Arrdyn carefully measured out the proper amount of cleaner. He knew that the concentrated chemical would burn if it got on his skin so he always insisted that he did it. Arrdyn often gave such commands and warnings, remembering how things were in his previous life. Harry had quickly learned that his brother’s orders were always for their benefit and so obeyed his twin unquestioningly. Working together the brothers carefully removed the dining chairs. Simultaneously they wrung out two wash clothes that had been dunked in the bucket of soapy water. Harry shot Arrdyn a grin before using the momentum of a running start to slide across the floor on the washcloth.

            They raced each other across the floor and played around a bit before wiping up the areas they’d missed and cleaning the corners. After putting away their supplies they sat on the back step and ate leftover steamed broccoli from the night before. They were allowed to eat any leftovers for lunch the next day. Due to Dudley’s appetite this was usually whatever obligatory vegetable had been made in the name of a well-balanced meal. Since Dudley only ever ate one serving of said vegetables they tended to be all that was left.

            Arrdyn carefully doled out the nutrient rich vegetable, making sure that his brother got a slightly larger portion. Harry looked at his brother with adoration for a moment before gently bumping their shoulders. The other gave him a fond smile as he handed him his plate.

            “I love mopping day.” The first born said smiling. As he did so he could imagine the weariness in his younger but wiser brother’s eyes fading just the smallest amount in the light of his smile.

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            By the time the twins and Dudley were old enough to attend Primary School, Dudley had become pretty much set in his ways as a bully and the twins as the neighborhood’s pariahs. They had learned how to do most of the housework, though they weren’t trusted to do it very often. Aunt Petunia had begun to teach them the simplest aspects of cooking, which she detested, and they were expected to assist her in making whatever meal they hoped to eat.

            Unfortunately, it was East Whinging Primary School’s policy that siblings not be in the same class as each other. As there were only two classes for each grade this meant that one or the other of them would be stuck, alone, with Dudley. Without Dudley to threaten them with bodily harm Arrdyn found most of his classmates friendly.  Harry, on the other hand, came home with a black eye. His wrist was severely sprained the next day at lunch. Arrdyn, after examining the wrist, quickly pulled his brother into the nearest restroom and forced Harry to trade clothes with him. With only a few hitches where Harry nearly forgot to answer to “Arrdyn” the boys found it was easy to trade places and pretend to be the other. After a year it was nearly second nature, not that anyone paid them enough mind to tell the difference between them. Their first bit of accidental magic was a bump in their new equilibrium though.

            Arrdyn and Harry eyed the two revolting sweaters Uncle Vernon’s Aunt Matilda had given Dudley for Christmas. Apparently being “big-boned” ran in Uncle Vernon’s Mother’s family. His father’s sister, who did not know this, didn’t think she needed to buy her great-nephew extra-large clothing. There was simply no way to fit Dudley’s girth in either sweater. One was the hideous brown with orange puffballs Arrdyn remembered from his first life. The other was a nearly puke green with yellow waves across the front. They were probably warm, which almost made Arrdyn willing to wear them, but the look on Harry’s face said he’d rather freeze.

Aunt Petunia told them to raise their arms, which they did obediently, if reluctantly. The brown one was shoved over Harry’s arms and stuck there. With each of Aunt Petunia’s tugs on the offending knitting Arrdyn could see it shrink. Soon Harry’s elbows were knocking together, unable to move because of the restricting material. With a huff Aunt Petunia yanked the very small sweater off his head. Arrdyn glanced at the green thing on the table behind her hoping she’d assume it had shrunk in the wash too. Chilly January weather or not, he didn’t want to wear the ugly thing. Aunt Petunia picked the other sweater up and frowned. It was now the same size as the other. She held it up to Arrdyn but it very obviously wouldn’t fit him.

Arrdyn was glad that they weren’t punished for the sweaters, and Aunt Matilda must have realized her error when she received the picture of a falsely cheery Dudley holding one of the sweaters. Next year she sent Dudley a jump rope and a football which caused Harry and Arrdyn to laugh later that night in the privacy of their cupboard. None of the Dursleys got the hint. Arrdyn ran interference for all subsequent magical hiccups. Life went smoothly until they met their first witch.

Arrdyn tightened his grip on his brother’s hand as the pair of them weaved through the holiday crowds at the grocery store. The twins were rarely allowed anywhere but school and Privet Drive. It had been decided that this was an emergency though. The Dursleys were entertaining some influential guests for New Years and Aunt Petunia had run out of olives to garnish one of her hors d’oeuvres. They had an hour and a half to run two miles to the store get the olives and run back. Arrdyn clutched the five pound note they’d found in the laundry earlier that week and he hoped they would be able to buy one of the shops pre-made sandwiches for their holiday dinner. When they got back they were to hide in their cupboard making no sound and pretending they didn’t exist. Harry stuck close to his brother, the basket with their sandwich already in it clutched in his free hand.

“Merlin, it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a muggle grocery store.” The woman next to them murmured to herself as she scanned the shelves for what she wanted. Arrdyn froze where he was reaching up for a jar of olives. Sensing his brother’s discomfort Harry shuffled even closer, catching the witch’s attention. Noticing one of the boys next to her reaching for a jar just out of his reach she smiled at them without really looking and grabbed the jar they needed. She got a better look when she bent down to hand the olives to them. Her eyes widened in surprise.

“You-You’re the Twins! The Boys-who-lived!” She breathed. “I can’t believe my eyes! Our saviors in little Whinging! I-“ Arrdyn cut her off with a hurried thanks, tugging the jar out of her slack grip and running down the aisle. He pulled a confused Harry along behind him. Though they spotted the witch peering over the crowd looking for them they managed to make it back to the Dursley’s without getting cornered by a member of the magical community.

Arrdyn dreamed of the night he fled Privet Drive shortly before his 17^th birthday. His heart sunk at the sight of spell light flashing through the clouds and just as he saw green light zip towards them, towards Hedwig defenseless in her cage, small hands shook him awake. Harry’s face was cast in a soft green-yellow glow from the fireflies they had smuggled into their cupboard. Harry’s, or possibly his own, magic kept the little jar full of living specimens every night even during the winter months. Arrdyn avoided contemplating how it worked and simply appreciated having the light on hand for times like this one.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, smoothing his brother’s hair ad straightening their blankets.

“Yeah,” Arrdyn answered, his voice shaky with emotion. “Just a nightmare.”

“Of what?” His alter-twin-brother asked.

“A memory.”

“Of the laugh? And the green light?” Harry asked snuggling into the warmth of his brother’s side. Arrdyn looked at his twin in surprise. With so many other memories to haunt him; he had forgotten about that old night terror. He contemplated his answer before deciding to trust his alter with something like the truth.

“They used to say that sometimes, when an old soul gets too big, it will be reborn as twins. Usually a soul’s memories are erased—I imagine at least—but I still remember who we were, before. Who we used to be.”  Arrdyn explained. Harry’s eyes got really big.

“Really?! Were we brilliant? Rich? Did we have a big family? Famous?” Harry asked excited before he frowned, an adorable little moue on his lips. “We were a boy right? ‘cause girls are gross.” Arrdyn chuckled.

“I don’t know if we were famous enough to get into a history book—” Which, Arrdyn consoled himself, wasn’t strictly a lie. He didn’t know who or what they had been in a previous life or if reincarnation was even real. He wrapped his arms around his brother, which both conserved space on their single twin mattress and kept them warm. Their blankets had gotten rather threadbare over the years and didn’t keep the chill out very well anymore. “But we had an active role in a war.”

“Cool!” Harry whispered, imagining valiant deeds. Arrdyn shook his head.

“No. So many people died. We lost a lot of people that we love. I’ll tell you what is cool though,” Arrdyn consoled. “We used to be a wizard.” Harry frowned.

“But, Uncle Vernon says there’s no such thing as magic.” Arrdyn snorted.

“Don’t ever repeat this—neither of us would like the result—but Uncle Vernon is a small minded lout, Aunt Petunia a vindictive rumormonger, and Dudley a brainless brute. I remember the night that mum and dad died and it wasn’t in a car crash.” Harry sat up.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?!” He demanded, hurt. Arrdyn tried to reign in his anger: anger at the Dursleys for their abuse, anger at Dumbledore for abandoning them here, and anger at everyone else for being blind to their suffering. When he had his emotions back under control he sighed.

“I’m sorry. At first you were too young and then I thought you might be happier not knowing how much they lie to us. I have a lot of secrets, Harry. Eventually I will tell them to you. But it won’t be now, or all at once.” He petted his brother’s hair and coaxed him to lie back down. The other continued to frown at him and Arrdyn decided that distracting him from his hurt was the best tactic. “Mum and Dad had magic and so do we.” He told him.

“Nuh uh!” Harry exclaimed, eager for it to be true but too disbelieving of anything good that might happen in their lives.

“How else would you explain those sweaters shrinking last year? Or just before break when you turned your teacher’s wig that ugly blue? We use magic all the time.”

Harry giggled at the memory. That year they had been stuck between a rock and a hard place when it came to classes. With Dudley in one class and an embittered half-crazed teacher for the other, swapping places didn’t provide much of a reprieve. One day, after she had assigned an obscene amount of homework, and while she was whining about how teaching brats was ruining her chances at marrying well—especially when none of them were worth her time or would succeed at anything—Harry had gotten fed up with the put downs. Her wig, which was both obviously fake and outdated in style, changed into a gaudy blue to match her hideous eye make-up. The class had cracked up laughing, and she had run out in tears. Their last week before break had been spent with a substitute teacher.

“Harry,” Arrdyn said seriously “we can’t let anyone know. That we’re wizards or that I remember our past life. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” Harry frowned in thought.

“The woman from the grocery store.” He said looking to his brother. “She was a wizard too. How’d she recognize us? Why’d she call us that? Saviors?” Arrdyn sighed, feeling tired down to his soul.

“She was a witch, yes. She called us the Boys-Who-Lived. The Wizarding World is small and we performed a miracle by surviving when it was supposed to be impossible. A very evil man had been terrorizing the Wizarding World and he set his sights on destroying our family. We survived his attack and he hasn’t been seen since.”

He took a fortifying breath. He had been terrorized by the public after Voldemort’s final defeat. He hadn’t been able to go shopping without getting mobbed and assaulted. Even now, large crowds made him jumpy and claustrophobic.

“The public is fickle–easily swayed. As high as their pedestal raises us we’ll fall just as hard if we do something they don’t approve of. So let’s be careful who we trust and avoid bringing attention to ourselves, okay?” Harry nodded, his brother had never led him astray, and the two brothers allowed themselves to fall back asleep.

Slowly Harry began to grasp the use of his magic, and less and less incidents of accidental magic were actual accidents. Together the boys  began to learn how to wield their magic without focusing it through a wand. It made their lives easier without attracting the notice of any muggles or the Dursleys. Most of Arrdyn’s efforts were towards disguising them from the witches and wizards who swarmed Surrey after the twins had been spotted in the area of Little Whinging. Arrdyn was surprised at how much control Harry had but then he remembered the things Tom Riddle had done at the orphanage before Dumbledore had extended an invitation to Hogwarts to him.

Every night Harry asked Arrdyn to tell him a story about their parents or their past life. Arrdyn refused to talk about their life before this one and instead “made up” stories about adventures they might have at Hogwarts. He talked about their life with their parents and added in the occasional anecdote about a famous witch or wizard. One night when he was telling Harry an exaggerated tale of his and Hermione’s jaunt in time he realized that some of the details of his life were slipping away from him. He knew that he needed to write down what he remembered about Sirius’ case, and the Resurrection Ritual, and Voldemort’s Horcruxes. The problem was how to do so without Harry being able to accidentally read it.

Eventually he decided to encode his memories in a choppy Latin. In the back of a notebook that hadn’t been completely filled with notes the previous school year he carefully wrote down every detail he could. It took him a month to steal enough time alone to write it all out. Afterward, he tucked it away under their mattress to wait until he needed it.

Life was uneventful until the fall before they started Hogwarts. They were so unlucky as to have all of Dudley’s gang in the same class together. They were a terror to anyone who sat near them and would poke and pinch any Potter brother they could, whenever they could. Arrdyn’s arms had been littered with bruises after the first week. Lunch and recess was even worse as by that time they had scared everyone away from the brothers and could agree on a course of action(deciding what torture they wanted to inflict that particular day was as close to planning as they got) before class let out.

One day the twins were being chased by Dudley’s mob when they rounded a corner and, in the few moments they were out of sight, attempted to jump behind the nearby trashcans. Both of them found themselves sitting on one of the school’s kitchen chimneys. Arrdyn had quickly pulled his brother down and mostly out of sight behind their perch. There was a niche where the new atrium didn’t meet the corner of the kitchens. Dudley’s gang had already glanced into it and moved on leaving it unoccupied and out of anyone’s view. They crab walked along the steep pitch of the roof and soon sat with their legs dangling off the edge of the roof.

“Okay,” Arrdyn whispered reassuringly to his brother. “We’re going to jump down from the roof here. Use your magic to cushion you. It’ll be like jumping off the swings, okay?” His brother nodded nervously and Arrdyn screwed up his Gryffindor courage and jumped.

The ground gave, like when they’d sneaked into the guest room and jumped on the bed, and Arrdyn found himself bouncing a bit, but this time his feet landed on firm earth. He looked up to his brother who seemed a bit reassured at his safe landing. Arrdyn watched as Harry lifted off the roof and gently floated down through the air, shirt rippling in slow motion. Neither said anything about their little misadventure but from then on took refuge in trees and nearly any other high place they thought they could get away with.

Time passed oddly for Arrdyn who found that his days moved slowly but somehow seemed much shorter when he looked back on them. He and Harry lived day by day but their weeks blurred together. Until one morning when he woke up and realized that it was Dudley’s 11^th birthday.

&*^&*^&*^&*^&*^

            “Get up! The bacon’s on the stove already and you’re not to let it burn!” Aunt Petunia screeched, jarring Arrdyn out of a fitful slumber. He carefully extracted himself from Harry. Even at ten years old they still shared the same twin sized mattress from when they had first joined the Dursley household, though now they barely fit. The two brothers piled together in the cupboard under the stairs like puppies. Arrdyn always woke to find their limbs tangled together.

 He gently shook his brother’s shoulder and pulled him up into a sitting position. After reclaiming two pairs of mismatched socks from the spiders he shoved one pair into his sleepy brother’s feet and the other onto his own. He dashed to the stove, purposely leaving the cupboard door open and his brother blinking bewilderedly in the morning light.

Arrdyn barely made it to the stove in time to flip the bacon before it burned. He ignored the overburdened dining table. Harry followed to help with breakfast, pausing to assess Dudley’s haul this year.

“What does he want a racing bike for? Harry Hunting is the only exercise he isn’t allergic to.” Harry grumbled as he pulled out another pan to begin frying tomatoes in.

“Dunno.” His brother answered, “Maybe he’ll leave his old computer in the second bedroom now that he has a new one. It’d make it easier to sneak onto.” Arrdyn replied under his breath as he plated the bacon and began on the breakfast sausage. Harry hummed in agreement as he swapped out the toast in the toaster for two new pieces of bread. The twins worked as an efficient and well-practiced team to make breakfast for the small army that was comprised solely of Vernon and Dudley Dursley. Petunia daintily ate a fruit salad Arrdyn had whipped together for her while Harry cooked the potatoes.

While the twins set the table Dudley slowly counted his presents. His face fell when he counted the last one (a second television, Arrdyn thought).

“36.” He said looking up at his parents. “That’s two less than last year.’’ Arrdyn was amazed that he had the brain capacity to remember how many presents he’d received the year before, let alone been able to subtract the two amounts to determine he’d been shorted. Then, of course, when it came to material possessions and bullying Dudley was well motivated to be at his cleverest. Aunt Petunia was quick to reassure her precious Diddydums.

“Darling, you haven’t counted Auntie Marge’s present see, it’s here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy.”

“Alright, 37 then.” Dudley responded petulantly, going red in the face. Harry, who—like Arrdyn—could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began to wolf down his bacon due to the very real threat of the blond flipping the table. Arrdyn felt no compunction about lifting his plate and moving out of the way all together. The twins must not have been the only ones to sense trouble because she quickly amended her earlier statement.

“And we’ll buy you two more presents while we’re out today. How’s that popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right?” Dudley thought for a moment. Arrdyn decided that he’d probably used all of his week’s allotment of mental acuity earlier in the argument, because it seemed like hard work.

“So I’ll have…thirty…thirty…”

“39, sweetums.” Aunt Petunia said encouragingly. Dudley frowned in thought another moment.

“Oh,” he said sitting heavily and reaching for the first parcel. “Alright then.” Uncle Vernon chuckled.

“Little Tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father. ‘Atta boy Dudley!” He said ruffling his son’s hair.

At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia left her little idyllic scene of family happiness to answer it. The twins and Uncle Vernon continued eating and watched Dudley tear through his 37 presents, stuffing his face between each gift.  He had started to unwrap a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia returned.

“Bad news Vernon,” she said causing everyone at the table to look up at her. “Mrs. Figg broke her leg. She can’t take them.” She jerked her head in the twins’ direction. Arrdyn could see the hope blossoming in Harry’s eyes.

Dudley, on the other hand, allowed his mouth to drop open in horror. Every year the elder Dursleys took him and a friend somewhere special—the movies, an amusement park, this year the zoo—for his birthday. Every year the twins were left with Mrs. Figg on Magnolia Crescent. To the neighborhood she was an eccentric old maid with too many cats. Knowing that she was actually a squib, sent by Dumbledore to watch over them, allowed Arrdyn to see that she was simply at a loss on how to interact with them. This did not change the fact that she tended to show them the album of every cat she ever owned in an attempt to distract them from the fact that they’d been left behind. Harry hated the cabbage-smelling sitting room and being assaulted by a dozen furry bodies while listening to the not-so-daring tales of Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty.

“Now what?” Aunt Petunia asked her husband, glaring furiously at the two brothers—particularly Arrdyn—as if they’d planned this. Harry knew he should feel bad that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, she’d only ever been nice to them, but consoled himself with the knowledge that it’d be a year before he had to learn the adventures of Snuggly who had been hit by a car a month ago.

Arrdyn was pondering if there were any jobs they could do for her for a bit of money. They often did odd jobs in the neighborhood, like raking leaves, shoveling walkways, and weeding. Once they’d even painted an entire fence. It had bought Harry a new pair of trainers he’d needed. The twins scrimped and saved the money they earned, supplementing it with spare change they found in the laundry and couch cushions, and used it to buy things they needed. Items like belts to hold up Dudley’s hand-me-down pants, blank notebooks for school, and shoes that didn’t have holes in them.

“We could phone Marge.” Uncle Vernon suggested.

“Don’t be silly Vernon, she hates them.” Arrdyn and Harry didn’t care for Uncle Vernon’s sister, also known as “Aunt” Marge, either so the feeling was mutual. The Dursleys often talked about them with derision, as if they weren’t there. Like slugs, disgusting and incapable of understanding them.

“What about what’s-her-name, your friend—Yvonne?” Vernon asked.

“On Vacation in Majorca.” snapped Aunt Petunia.

“You could leave us here.” Harry offered hopefully before Arrdyn could make an abortive motion. He knew his brother was hoping to watch what he wanted on television and try out Dudley’s computer. Aunt Petunia looked as if she’d swallowed a lemon.

“And come back to find the house in ruins?!” She shrieked.

“We wouldn’t blow up the house.” Harry argued petulantly but they were ignoring him again.

“I suppose we could bring them with us to the zoo.” Aunt Petunia suggested slowly. “…and leave them in the car…”

“The car’s new; I’ll not leave them alone in it.” Vernon stated.

Dudley began to cry. In truth they were only crocodile tears. He had learned that if he screwed his face up and wailed that his mother would give him anything he wanted.

“Dinky Diddydums don’t cry! Mummy won’t let them ruin your special day!” She cried flinging her arms around his shoulders, his neck being the narrowest part of him and one of the only places she could reach around his girth. She shot them a familiar look that told them she begrudged them their existence.

“I…d-don’t want… them to c-come!” Dudley said between huge fake sobs. “They ruin everything!” He wailed before shooting them a nasty look under his mother’s arms. This was interrupted by the doorbell.

“Good lord they’re here!” Aunt Petunia cried, straightening up and tugging her dress into order. A moment later Piers Polkiss, Dudley’s rat-faced best friend, walked in with his mother. Piers was the kind of boy to hold people’s arms behind their back while Dudley hit them. Dudley immediately stopped pretending to cry.

Half an hour later Harry was nearly bouncing with excitement in the seat in between Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Arrdyn sat squished in the back with Dudley and Piers on either side, both of them leaning forcefully into him with every turn. The twins had, with a glance, decided which seat was least desirable and who would get it. Being the protective brother he was, Arrdyn volunteered to suffer the vindictive elbows and pokes. Aunt Petunia had been unable to think of any alternatives to bringing them along. Before they left Uncle Vernon had pulled both of them aside.

“I’m warning you.” He said his large purple face so close he had to turn his head so his beady eyes could glare at both of them. “Any funny business—any at all—and you’ll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas.” Harry had opened his mouth to protest but quickly closed it and nodded obediently when his brother nudged him with an elbow in warning. Uncle Vernon wouldn’t have believed him anyway, no one ever did. Arrdyn smoothed over their accidental magic but the Dursleys were just as apt to blame them when they’d done nothing. Whatever incidences Arrdyn hadn’t been able to keep out of the Dursleys notice had incited Uncle Vernon’s ridiculous and unfair punishments.

But today nothing was going to go wrong, Harry was determined and Arrdyn remembered his own trip to the zoo so his felt forearmed. It was worth being with Dudley and Piers to be going somewhere that wasn’t their cupboard, school, or Mrs. Figg’s.

As they drove, Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: Harry, people at work, Arrdyn, the Council, Harry, the bank, foreigners, and the twins were just a few of his favorite topics. Today it was motorcycles.

“…roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums!” he complained as a motorcycle overtook them.

“I had a dream about a motorcycle.” Harry piped up. “It was flying!” He added, forgetting who he was talking to. Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front of them. He turned to Harry, mustache bristling and face murderous.

“MOTORCYCLES DON’T FLY!” He shouted.

“I know, it was just a dream.” Harry apologized, cowed. He had forgotten the rule: ‘Don’t mention anything acting as it shouldn’t’. Anything that might be magic was taboo. It was second only to the rule: ‘Don’t ask questions.’ Dudley and Piers sniggered.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. To try and cheer his brother up, Arrdyn dragged his feet at the ice cream stand so that the lady had time to ask what they wanted before Aunt Petunia could hurry them away. Both agreed that the cheap lemon ice pop they’d gotten was pretty good while they watched a gorilla lazily scratch its bum. Just out of earshot of their family, Harry pointed out that if it’d been wearing a wig it could have passed as a dead ringer for Dudley. Arrdyn said that if they needed a stand-in a pig in a wig would suit better.

It ended up being one of the best mornings they could remember. Though they made sure they never lost the Dursleys, they also hung back, apart from them. Partially this was to please Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who didn’t like to be seen with them, and partially this was so that Dudley ad Piers wouldn’t fall back on other methods of entertainment as they got increasingly bored with the animals by lunchtime.

Harry got to eat at a restaurant for the first time at lunch and the twins got to finish one of Dudley’s Knicker-bocker Glories when he pitched a fit that it didn’t have enough ice cream on it. Uncle Vernon had demanded that the waiter replace the dessert. The poor employee was bullied into giving Dudley two extra scoops, just to be sure there was plenty.

After lunch they went to the Reptile House. Arrdyn kept a firm grip on his brother’s hand, determined that this time they would get to finish the school year somewhere other than their cupboard. Arrdyn kept them behind the other two boys. Harry curiously watched the snakes and lizards slither and crawl over the sticks and stones in their little terrariums. Piers and Dudley raced around to look at all the poisonous cobras and man-eating pythons. Dudley whined at his father to make a Brazilian Boa Constrictor—the largest creature in the building—move, but it was sleeping and uninterested.

“That one could wrap around Uncle Vernon’s car twice.” Harry whispered in awe. He smiled as he admired the thick glistening coils. Arrdyn tugged him away from the case when he spotted a zookeeper with another, smaller, python around his shoulders exit a nearby side door.

“Can we touch it?” Arrdyn asked him as he and his brother gave the man eager looks. The man—his name tag read ‘Jon’—smiled at their enthusiasm and told them that if they were gentle they could hold it. They both giggled as the snake’s weight settled over their shoulders. The snake was long enough that with them standing close together it could drape across the back of both their necks.

“It’s so smooth! Not slimy!” Harry said, gently stroking its tail. The snake’s scales rasped together where the head slid along its back to taste the air near Harry’s ear, having looped back around Arrdyn’s neck. At around that time Dudley came up to them demanding to hold it. The zookeeper told him that he could have his turn in a minute. Dudley didn’t care to wait. Aunt Petunia, terrified at the thought of her precious baby having a giant snake wrapped around his throat, tried to dissuade him from even going near it. He ignored her and tried to yank the creature from his hated cousins. Arrdyn choked as the sake recoiled in pain, tightening around his throat.

“Stop!” Harry hissed to it in alarm at his brother’s pain. Thankfully no one seemed to think anything of it except the snake who hissed back in surprise. Arrdyn was the only one who saw Harry’s surprise at the snake’s apology. Jon the zookeeper was too busy extracting the poor creature’s tail from Dudley’s fat fingers.

“This is a living creature and you need to respect that!” Jon admonished the blond as he carefully took the snake back from the twins.

“Give it to me.” Dudley demanded shoving Harry into Arrdyn and making another grab for the animal. It pulled its tail out of the way just in time and the zookeeper scowled at him.

“No. You obviously don’t respect others and would only hurt it.” Uncle Vernon, having noticed the commotion, lumbered up to the group.

“If my son wants to hold a snake then let him hold the snake!” He demanded. The zookeeper told him ‘No’ and Vernon’s face darkened in anger. “Who are you to tell me ‘No’? This is ridiculous. Let my son hold the ruddy snake!” Jon the zookeeper scowled some more and handed the creature to a woman in a zookeeper’s uniform. She had quickly come over at the first sign of trouble. Wordlessly she took the snake into the back. Jon stepped in front of Dudley who had made to follow.

“The health and safety of our animals and guests is more important than the whims of a spoilt brat.” He announced with his arms crossed. Aunt Petunia seemed more and more uncomfortable with the attention they were drawing and tried to convince her husband that they should just leave. It was too late for that, however, because whether it was truth or not the zookeeper had just insulted his son and he couldn’t stand for that.

“Excuse me?!” Vernon roared. “My son is not a spoilt brat. You’re nothing but an overpaid Hippy!” While the zookeeper and Uncle Vernon argued, Dudley turned on the twins. His face was twisted in anger as he punched Arrdyn, who was closer, in the chest knocking the wind out of him. Arrdyn crumpled inward with a silent exhale as all the air left his lungs. A new zookeeper grabbed the downed boy by his shoulders and supported him while he tried to catch his breath.

“This is all your fault!” Dudley accused the twins. “It’s my birthday! I should have been the first to hold the snake!” The two brothers ignored him used to unfairly taking the blame. Dudley swung his fist at Harry but the zookeeper helping his brother managed to pull both of them out of the way by their shirt collars. He called for Security on his Walkie-Talkie.

“Everyone calm down!” He shouted. Jon, the zookeeper who had first brought out the snake began to argue but was quieted with a look.

“No! I want that-…that Hoodlum to apologize for insulting my son! And I want my son to get to hold a snake! We’re paying customers and I want him to get the full experience!” Vernon demanded. The other man frowned at him.

“Sir, your son just assaulted another child. We cannot, in good conscience, allow him to be within reach of any of our animals.” Uncle Vernon made a dismissive gesture, causing the man to frown even more. “I’m the head of the Reptile House. I promise you that you shall receive an apology from my employee, but after that I’m afraid you will have to leave.” He gave Jon a pointed look and with gritted teeth he apologized to both Dudley and Uncle Vernon. The Department head dismissed him and knelt down by Arrdyn.

“My name is Erik. Are you okay? Where are your parents?” Arrdyn was still having trouble taking full breaths so Harry answered for him.

“He’ll be okay in another minute. Our parents are dead. We’re here with our aunt and uncle.” He said with a nod to the Dursleys. Uncle Vernon was beginning to look murderous again. Arrdyn and Harry didn’t know how but Erik managed to look even unhappier at this knowledge. He stood and faced Uncle Vernon.

“Sir,” He said. “I would like your contact information and then I’d like you to leave.”

“I already told you. I’m not leaving until my son gets to hold a snake, and I’ll not give you my information. You don’t need it.” Uncle Vernon insisted.

“We can’t leave! We haven’t gotten to the birds yet!” Dudley whined to his father. Two men, one tall and skinny the other short and stout, dressed as security guards walked up to their group. The lady zookeeper from before was herding the other patrons away from them. Erik gave the older Dursleys a hard look.

“You are going to give us your name and contact information and then these gentlemen will escort you to your car.” He told them. Before either of them could protest he continued. “If you don’t cooperate we’ll call the police.” Aunt Petunia gasped, horrified at the thought of what the neighbors would say about the police getting involved in this little ‘tussle’. “We might not be the only ones calling either. Twenty people just witnessed you being dismissive about your son assaulting your nephews, which may indicate where he’s learning such churlish behavior from. Watching you perhaps?”

“You dare--!” Uncle Vernon spluttered.

“I would take great pleasure in watching Child Protective Services peel back your careful veneer of normality. If you doubt me, test me.” Erik informed them. Speechlessly the Dursleys, Piers, Arrdyn and Harry were led to the Security office where an incident report was filed. The guards then walked them all the way out to their car and watched them drive off.

“You were totally in the right Mr. Dursley.” Piers announced on the way back. “Dudley should have been able to hold that snake. And Harry hissed at it like he could talk to it. How freaky is that. You guys shouldn’t have gotten in trouble. The Potter Boys are weird and deserve what they get.” Uncle Vernon’s hands tightened on the steering wheel but he said nothing.

When they got to Privet Drive he told Dudley and Piers to wait in the car while he straightened out the twins. When he, Aunt Petunia and the brothers were inside he said,

“Go—cupboard—Stay—No meals.” They heard him slide the bolt of the lock home and whisper something to Aunt Petunia before the front door slammed shut.

“What do you think will happen to us?” Harry asked his brother some time later. Aunt Petunia had removed their light bulb when they had been let out to use the restroom so they were laying together in the near dark with nothing but their fireflies to illuminate the walls of their prison.

“I don’t know.” Arrdyn honestly answered, before he began to describe Hogwarts to distract his brother from their uncertain future.