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Dreams of Home Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2023-01-17 06:02:15 +0000 UTCChapter 4
Flashes of lights were happening all around him. His wand was a blur as he cut his way through Death Eaters desperately trying to get to Hermione. He didn’t even register who had told him that his best friend was dueling Bellatrix Lestrange, but he knew his brilliant Muggleborn friend was no match for Voldemort’s best fighter alone. None of them were.
Pushing his way through the crowd, blasting enemies aside he saw his best friend merely fifty meters away fighting for her life. Ducking under a green spell Hermione returned fire with practice and fluidity that had been beaten into her by training with the Order of the Phoenix for the last year. Her spells were powerful, of that, there was no doubt, but the barrage coming from Bellatrix was non-stop.
Closing the distance Harry raised his wand to join her in battle, but his eyes widened as a green spell came from somewhere to the right of the Muggleborn witch. Hermione registered the spell, and dropped to the ground to avoid it, but Bellatrix was not idle when presented with an opportunity. An orange spell connected with Hermione, and her scream nearly stopped the entire battle. Desperately Harry tried to push his way to her, but he seemed frozen, and was subjected to watch the agonizing screams of his best friend. Her eyes turned to him, and screamed his name begging for her own life. A feeling of uncertainty passed through him, but without a counter curse, he knew the girl would die a terrible death. His first thought was to exact revenge, and force Bellatrix to undo her curse, but as tears of blood began to fall from Hermione’s eyes he knew it was too late. Laughter brought rage pulsing through the teen, but he knew he had a duty to his best friend first as he raised his wand to put her out of her misery-
Jolting awake Harry felt the tears rolling down his face as he heaved for breath. Looking around rapidly in search of the battle he just left, realization set in. He was at Potter Manor. It was 1976. The moment in his dreams wouldn’t happen for 20 years.
Reaching for his wand he took a deep breath, and exhaled in stress wiping the tears from his face. Looking out his window that led to a small balcony, Harry knew it was still the early hours of the morning, but there was no going back to sleep. He did not wish to subject himself to further visions of his past, so decided to start his day. With a quick check of the time, Harry pushed himself out of bed, and departed his bedroom into the unfamiliar halls of Potter Manor.
Walking through the house his gaze lingered on portraits of long-past family members. Below each of their names were small inscriptions of their accomplishments. One a Minister of Magic, another a Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump, the one that caught his attention however was a Triwizard Champion from the 1860s. ‘Baron Abraham Potter II, Triwizard Champion, War Mage, Order of Merlin 1st Class.’
The man didn’t resemble Harry as closely as his other relatives. Abraham’s hair was short, jet black, and his eyes were a much darker shade of brown than his own. The man had the same build as Charlus however, and looked like he could snap an average man like a twig. Briefly, Harry pondered if he could find more information about the man in his family's library. As he continued down the hall more familiar faces began to pop up, including a wedding photo of Charlus and Dorea. Beside Charlus was Harry’s grandfather Fleamont, and a man that could only be Lord Arcturus Black. Next to Dorea were two women he didn’t recognize, but Harry resolved himself to ask when the opportunity arose.
The next photo sent a painful jolt into his chest as he saw a small boy holding a baby with a large smile on his face. The boy couldn’t have been more than four or five years old, and from the date on the photo, Harry realized that the baby was his father James Potter. April of 1960. His father was only about a month old in this photo, and the boy who was holding him could only be Henry Potter. The look of bewildered joy on the little boy’s face broke Harry’s heart knowing what would happen to him. Harry had not known his cousin had survived his infancy years, and knowing how much this little boy must have been loved by Dorea and Charlus caused a soft pang that struck him down to the soul.
Shaking the bad feeling away Harry made his way into the kitchen finding a pleasant surprise. Charlus and Dorea were drinking cups of coffee and reading the morning prophet in companionable silence as if it were not an ungodly hour of the morning.
Harry greeted his aunt and uncle asking quietly, “May I join you?”
Charlus offered his nephew a nod, kicking the chair out beside him in invitation, “Of course, Harry. This is your home now too, you are welcome to join us any time.”
Harry felt the warmth of his words, and offered his thanks, then asked, “What time did you two wake up?”
Charlus flipped the page on his newspaper and shrugged, “Only about 30 minutes ago. Truth be told, we are excited about this training regimen we are going to go through. Dorea and I haven’t done something like this in more than 20 years. It was something that was kept up with about five to six years after the war, but we eventually became relaxed in our training. Some of my favorite memories though are getting up at ungodly hours of the morning and training together.”
Harry nodded in understanding and was thankful they didn’t inquire as to why he was up earlier than most teenagers would ever dare. Dorea simply summoned an extra cup of coffee for Harry, and the three had a small breakfast courtesy of Mipsy in silence that lasted no more than fifteen minutes.
Harry could admit the silence at some point turned uncomfortable for him, but neither Charlus nor Dorea pressured him to talk. A short time after breakfast Charlus had told Harry to follow them onto the grounds where the man gave him a brief rundown of what the training would be like. To Harry, it sounded like it would be a mostly calisthenic workout, followed by intense magical training. Luckily, the youngest Potter was no stranger to hard work, and attentively listened to the benefits that Charlus explained to him.
Before Harry knew it they were running on the grounds. As they ran, Charlus identified several areas of the property easily. Thestrals were gathering at the edge of the forest, and Dorea explained that Mipsy often took spoiled meat from the butchers in town to feed the magical beasts. Supposedly the creatures didn’t have a preference, and the thought of them living on his family’s lands was oddly calming. It reminded him of the afternoons he had spent with Luna feeding the magnificent beasts in the forest. Harry remembered thinking those were hard days, but he had no idea what the world was going to throw at him in the following years. If only he had known.
Swallowing hard, Harry tried to pay attention to little details Charlus and Dorea supplied. Greenhouses were on the lower property, but they weren’t very well kept up with these days as neither of the war vets were naturals at Herbology, but they were something there for future Potters if they ever desired to express their green thumbs.
Charlus even identified an area where the family would gather and play quidditch when he was growing up. According to Harry’s great uncle, Charlus had played as a beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and often held training on the grounds of Potter Manor during the summers as he grew up. Dorea told Harry it was possible James and the others had come here to train as well over the years due to the small confinement of Godric's Hollow, but she wasn’t certain as they usually stayed in America
Harry wasn’t sure how long they ran for but he was heaving for breath when they finished. It was clear that Charlus and Dorea were in very good shape for their age, and almost certainly in better shape than Harry himself, but they too seemed winded, yet satisfied, from the exertion.
After a short break, Charlus began walking Harry through some basic magical combat drills including shield stamina, casting stamina, and speed/accuracy drills. Charlus watched methodically as Harry cast simple spells at Dorea, and he often made critiques or comments for Harry to think about.
Among these new tips and tricks was a new technique that Harry was taught to hold a spell in place. The idea was not to just throw a blasting hex and watch it destroy an object, wall, or room. Instead, the objective was to throw a continuous spell that would cause devastation to an entire area. It was draining, but it was effective.
They trained for close to three hours when Harry finally sat on the ground heaving for breath. The young man was sweating profusely despite the moderate weather they were experiencing, but the exertion he had demonstrated was immense. It was a beautiful morning, but the humidity in the northeast side of Blackpool was a significant factor in the training conditions as well. Dorea explained to Harry that they were close enough to the ocean that the air was often very thick making it hard to breathe at times, but it would help his stamina when he fought in lower elevations, and clearer climates.
When they finished, the new family found themselves in the kitchen once again and Charlus openly complimented Harry for his stamina, and especially for not giving up during the workout. Charlus told him he was quite skilled, but what made him a great wizard was his phenomenal willpower. A compliment Harry took to heart.
Everyone seemed in better spirits when Dorea informed them that Fleamont and Arcturus would be joining them that evening for a meeting at Potter Manor. This meant that, for the remainder of the morning, Dorea and Harry would be shopping in Diagon Alley for clothes, formal robes, and other miscellaneous items. If he was going to be a member of the Potter Family, he had to look the part according to Dorea.
.o.
Entering Diagon Alley for the second time in this world Harry attracted many more looks. Dorea had her hand wrapped through her adopted son's arm, and the young man was on high alert for any threats. Dorea had promised Charlus that she would keep Harry safe, but the young man internally swore to himself that he would do the same for the woman who had taken him in as well.
The two received many surprised looks as they passed through the magical district, but none dared to approach them. It was sure to lead to lots of gossip, particularly because the resemblance between Harry and Dorea was obvious, but no one had recognized Harry and just saw a mysterious young arrival that was clearly related to the Potters.
When it came time to enter Madam Malkin’s, Dorea placed a hand on Harry’s forearm, “I should warn you that Mathilda Malkin and I go way back. We were in Slytherin together back at school. She will be quite surprised by your appearance, and the fact that I kept this secret from her.”
Nodding in understanding Harry offered his great aunt an understanding smile as he noticed she seemed nervous over the upcoming encounter, “Don’t worry, mum, it will be fine.”
Dorea beamed at the boy as he purposefully called the woman his mother, something the two had discussed before departing Potter Manor. Entering the shop Harry had an unpleasant memory return to the surface of his thoughts. He could remember the last time he entered the establishment like it was yesterday. His eyes drifted to the corner where he had seen Draco being sized up for his Hogwarts robes just before their sixth year. Harry now knew for certain that the Slytherin boy was desperately trying to hide his Dark Mark, and the memory brought a bitter feeling into the young man’s stomach.
A cry of excitement snapped Harry out of the memory as he saw his new mother embracing a squat little woman that was beaming with joy, “Dorea, it has been so long! How are you?”
“I’m doing well, Mathilda.” Dorea answered with a smile, “The shop looks great, I can't believe you manage all on your own.”
“Oh, I make do, dear. I always have.” Turning her eyes to Harry for the first time her eyes widened, “And who is this handsome young man?”
Dorea wrapped an arm back through Harry’s smiling at her friend, “This, Mathilda, is my son, Harry.”
Mathilda looked blankly between the two for a moment before shaking her head, “Dorea? I don’t understand. I know it has been some years since we gave each other more than casual greetings, but-”
“I know it's hard to believe,” Dorea cut the woman off with a consoling look, “and even more difficult to understand, but Harry is special. We raised him away from England, and didn’t tell anyone outside of our family about his existence. It was a family secret until recently. We did it to protect him.” Dorea said clearly imploring the woman to understand.
Mathilda Malkin looked between the two for a long moment of silence, before forcing a smile to her face, “I understand, dear. I am sad you felt the need to keep this a secret, but I understand the desire to protect your only child.” Turning back to Harry the woman offered a hand, “Mathilda Malkin, dear. Your mother and I have been friends longer than I care to remember.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am. My mum speaks highly of you.” Harry offered hoping to appease the woman.
The woman seemed satisfied with his answer, and offered him a bright smile, “A flatterer like your father. Merlin, help us all!”
This made Dorea laugh, and the woman went about taking Harry’s measurements as she quizzed him about where he went to school, and what it was like growing up in America. The lies flowed seamlessly, and at some point, he noted that Dorea seemed slightly put off by how natural it seemed for Harry to lie.
When the two finished their business in Madam Malkin’s Dorea sighed deeply when they made it back into the main street of Diagon Alley, “I suppose I will have to get used to that. I don’t like lying to my friends, but I understand why it must be done.”
Harry wrapped an arm around the woman that stood a few inches shorter than him and placed a kiss on top of her head. It was a common tactic he had used to look over Hermione’s shoulder when they were on the run together, and it seemed almost instinctual as he glanced around the alley scanning for threats, “Maybe it won’t always have to be this way. One day maybe we can tell your friends the truth. When the war is over.”
Dorea bit her lip for a moment before shaking her head, “We will do as we must. Don’t think about it for a moment longer, my son. Now let us get home before your father comes looking for us. He is quite grumpy when he has to make unplanned public appearances.”
Harry laughed as he grabbed his surrogate mother’s arm and apparated them back to their home. Arriving in the living room, Dorea immediately called for Mipsy to inquire about Charlus’ whereabouts, and the elves' ears immediately drooped, “Mistress, Master is under the orchard.”
Dorea stiffened at the mention of orchard, and she sighed, “Harry, will you be a dear and fetch my husband. I think I have had enough heartache for the day to face that particular demon.”
Without further word, the woman walked out of the kitchen without a second look, and Harry in confusion looked to the elf for an explanation. Mipsy sighed, “Master Charlie is a good Master Harry, but his heart is still broken. The loss of little Master Henry still haunts him. You will find them both out by the orchard, just like Mistress Dory said.”
With that, the elf wiped at her eyes quickly, before disapparating away. Harry looked out the window to see several apple trees in the distance. Under the tree line however was a man, standing by himself looking down upon something Harry could not quite see.
Exiting the back door of the kitchen onto the grounds Harry cautiously approached the lone figure until he stood beside the man. Looking down, Harry swallowed hard at the sight of a small tombstone, and said nothing as he took in the words,
Henry Arcturus Potter
The light of our life
The smile that changed our lives
Our Son
Our Heart
His journey had only just begun
His dreams forever unfulfilled
Missed more than even
Magic could imagine.
31/10/1956 - 31/10/1960
The ball of lead that seemed to be in Harry’s throat increased as he realized that Halloween hadn’t been a curse exclusively to him. His little cousin had been lost on his fourth birthday, Harry could hardly imagine anything worse. He wasn’t sure how long they stood there before Charlus spoke, “How did it go with Dorea today?”
Sighing, Harry shook his head, “We ran into Mathilda Malkins today. I think mum had a hard time lying to her friend.”
Charlus nodded his head in acceptance, “I knew she wouldn’t make it through the day without running into someone we once knew. Her abilities as an empath are immense, but they can at times be a double-edged sword. She intimately understands the effect lies can have on someone, and she hates to do it.”
“I’m sorry to have put you both in this situation.” Harry said with guilt lancing through his heart, “Perhaps I never would’ve approached you had I known the trouble it would cause.”
Before the thought could settle Charlus responded with, “You did the right thing. It was the only move to make with the cards you had been dealt. Your less-than-ideal upbringing may have been the only thing that could possibly have spurred Dorea and I into action. Thinking about Henry being raised the way you were has lit something inside of me that will not be quelled by inaction.”
The mention of Harry’s fallen cousin caused a spark of pain to flicker across Charlus’s face, and a moment of silence passed before the older man continued, “I think about what he would have been like all the time. He would be twenty years old this year.”
Comfortingly Harry swallowed the immense weight in his throat to speak, “Knowing who raised him assures me he would’ve been a great wizard.”
Charlus only nodded at his words before saying, “Perhaps had he survived you would’ve had a magical relative to raise you in your world. He would not have been so young that it is impossible he would’ve had his own family to raise you with. If Henry had half the love for his family as the rest of us Potter’s do he would’ve taken you in a heartbeat.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Harry said softly.
The words stung Harry to say, because he knew no matter how many times he himself had heard those words they had never helped. Charlus shook his head, “My boy is buried in Godric's Hollow like the rest of our family, but I created this little memorial for him so I could visit here in peace. It has never gotten easier over the years, but we found a way to make it.”
Harry didn’t know what to say to that, but thankfully the silence did not last, “But making it was not enough. Some bastard rose from the ashes of my son, and slaughtered my nephew, his family, and hundreds if not thousands of others, myself and Dorea included.”
Turning to face Harry a look that promised death and destruction flashed across Charlus’ face, “This is an injustice that will not happen a second time. You have my word on that, Harry. It is hard for me to reconcile the fact that I am about to tell the world I have another son, but I know that he would not have wanted it any other way. He loved his cousin James immensely, and I have little doubt he would have done anything to protect him or his family.”
Remembering the picture of Henry holding James squeezed Harry’s heart in an uncomfortable manner, and he nearly choked out a sob at the man’s words. Placing a hand on his new son’s shoulder as they faced each other Charlus spoke softly, “You have my word I will do all I can to protect you, Harry. I wasn’t able to protect my son, and I will be damned if another member of my family falls when it may be within my ability to protect him.”
Harry desperately wanted to tell the man of the prophecy, but he knew it was not quite the time for that conversation, despite knowing it would happen sooner rather than later. Instead, he merely stepped into his open arms, and embraced the man tightly. Looking over Charlus' shoulder he took another look at the memorial of Henry Potter, and Harry swore to his lost cousin that he would do everything in his power to protect the family that he had left behind.
The remainder of the afternoon passed in a blur and when the sun went down. Harry anxiously awaited the arrival of his grandparents and great-uncle in the family living room. No further mention of Henry occurred between any of the occupants of Potter Manor, and Harry was grateful for that fact as he feared an emotional breakdown could come from any direction at the current crossroads they all found themselves in. Instead, Harry found himself taking a seat in the shadows of the room behind his surrogate parents, doing his best not to get up and pace across the room as he anticipated the incoming arrivals.
Charlus was closest to Harry, standing just behind Dorea who was sitting in a large armchair, looking suitably calm. Despite the calm demeanors both Potters held, Harry could tell by the way they were eying the fireplace that there were a few nerves that were frayed.
When the fire flared to life Harry stilled for a moment as a familiar man stepped out of the fireplace. Fleamont Potter was exactly as Harry had seen him at King’s Cross; wearing a black robe with the Potter family crest. And while the man certainly resembled other members of his family, it was clear that he lived a relaxed life. The start of a belly was forming on the man and he certainly did not have the stout build of his younger brother. Regardless, there was no mistaking they were family. Harry noticed a lot of pureblood families looked alike, but never had he seen a family look so similar.
Before Fleamont could even greet anyone a woman stepped out of the fireplace with a soft smile already on her face. The woman did not resemble much of anyone he had ever met. She had a smooth face, and silky blonde hair that made the woman appear younger than she was. She was an attractive woman, and the smile on her face made Harry feel at ease in her presence.
Charlus stepped forward to greet his brother with a soft smile, “Monty, good to see you.”
Fleamont embraced the man without question, “Well, I couldn’t pass up a rare chance to spend time with my little brother. What’s the occasion, and why couldn’t we bring James? He would love to have seen you.”
“It’s quite a delicate matter we need to discuss, Monty.” Charlus said, putting a hand on his shoulder as they separated before turning to the blonde woman, “Mia, you look as lovely as always.”
The woman beamed at the younger man and embraced him tightly, “If I had known you were at Potter Manor I would’ve been over sooner to visit with you. It’s good to see you, Charlus.”
In the time that Charlus greeted his brother and sister, Dorea had moved to stand beside Harry. Something that Fleamont had clearly noticed, and when his eyes connected with Harry he froze. The two held eye contact for a long moment, and Euphemia turned to say something to her husband before she too realized the elephant in the room.
No one moved or said anything for a long moment. The next thing to happen was the flaring of the fireplace once again, and a smaller man stepped out of the Floo Network. The man had a dark black mustache complimented by a well-kept beard that covered his jaw and cheeks. His hair was as dark as his last name, and other than the few extra pounds, Harry could see the resemblance between Sirius and Arcturus Black. He also carried a small gift box on his arm that seemed to be in the shape of a bottle.
Arcturus clapped his hands, “Charlus, my good man, it has been too long.”
Before the Lord of the Black family could step across the room and hug his friend, and sister he realized he had stepped into quite the awkward silence, and when his eyes went to Harry he dropped the box he was holding, “Impossible.”
The final arrival was another blonde woman, who could only be Melania Black, and unlike Euphemia Potter, this woman had a rather serious expression on her face. She appeared to be in the same age range as Dorea and Charlus. Unlike the others, her eyes went to Harry first, and she merely froze in place.
No one spoke for a long moment, and Harry shifted uncomfortably. Dorea broke the ever-increasing tense silence, “As you can see the reason we brought you all here is as delicate as it is unique.”
Arcturus immediately turned to Charlus with an angry look on his face, “Is this boy yours?”
Charlus frowned at the tone the man used on him, “Kindly remind yourself who you are speaking to Arcturus, and exactly where you are right now.”
Arcturus did not seem deterred as he prepared to retort, but before further arguing could break out Harry stepped forward, “My name is Harry James Potter. I am from 20 years in the future where everyone in this room is dead.”
Comments
Beau Brown
Update coming tomorrow! Tuesdays are update days 😊
Anna Louise Gardner
Please update soon
Beau Brown
No one will tell you I'm not an asshole 😁
Sebastian Apodaca
You deadass had to leave it on a cliffhanger? Now I'm gonna have to wait for the next one
Seamus Curran
Can't wait for more.
