Chapter Text
Harry jerks awake and immediately sits up. Blood rushes to his head but he fights the dizziness and pounding to look around at his surroundings.
Hospital wing. He breathes a sigh of relief before tensing again. If he’s in the hospital wing, what the hell happened after that curse was shot at him? He was sure he was dead, sure he was going to die. Why is he not? He doesn't remember anything after see the green light heading toward him.
“Dear lord, boy, what gives you the idea that you can sit up like that?” a familiar tone scolds him, pushing him back down on the bed.
“Madam,” Harry mumbles, looking into the witch's eyes, “how did I get here? What’s going on out there?”
Madam Pomfrey sighs but she doesn’t stop in her movements to check him over, “You were found in the Forbidden Forest all alone. We suspected it was the acromantulas but they told us you had just appeared and they didn’t want to touch you. We wanted to wait until you were better to ask questions to confirm our suspicions.”
All alone? That can’t be right. Voldemort would’ve taken his body to show off to everyone, to boast about his accomplishment, why would they just leave him?
“You’re all healed but it’s up to you if you think you can be questioned right now,” Madam Pomfrey says.
Harry nods numbly and barely registers the next few minutes. He stands with her help and then he’s in the headmasters office without a clue of what happened in between. Though, now he’s even more confused because there’s Sirius and then Lupin and then— his parents? And that’s his baby self in his mum’s arms, no doubt about it, and there’s a familiar looking cat in his dad’s arms and what the fuck is going on? At least Professor McGonagall is next to Dumbledore because Harry is sure without her familiar face, he’d be having a panic attack in front of everybody.
“Before we get into it all, might we have your name?” Dumbledore says.
Dumbledore. He’s alive. Something is terribly wrong and Harry is beginning to suspect what might’ve happened when that curse hit him.
“Harry,” he barely finishes saying before he launches into another sentence. “Professor, what’s the date?”
Dumbledore shares a look with McGonagall and then says carefully, “November 1, 1981.”
Harry curses quietly and casts a look at his parents. At least he did something good.
“What did you want me to say, Harry?” Dumbledore says.
Harry blanks at that. He has absolutely no clue what the date was, so really, the day he supposedly died could be any day of the year. The year.
Harry swallows, “1998, sir. Close to summer but still spring, maybe April or May. That doesn’t matter, I’ve time traveled and I’ve already changed history forever, this isn’t good.”
“No. No, it isn’t,” Dumbledore mumbles. “If you’ve already changed history, it wouldn’t hurt to tell us what happened that led to you time traveling.”
Harry recalls the ultimatum. One hour, he said, or they’d surely regret it. Leaving before Hermione and Ron could find him and try to stop him. The walk. The talk with his parents and Sirius and Lupin. Facing Voldemort. The curse.
Harry finds his scar and traces the top half of it with his fingers, a habit he picked up over the year. He doesn’t know why it’s comforting, it should be anything but, but it helps him order his thoughts into something resembling coherent.
“You-Know-Who killed me,” is what actually falls out of his mouth, not the detailed explanation he wanted.
It doesn’t have the effect on everyone that it would’ve if Harry had said his actual name but it’s the thought that counts.
“And you think this sent you back in time?”
“Maybe. There’s not any other explanation. You-Know— Voldemort , he shot the curse at me and I remember falling but I woke up in the hospital wing. We were keeping our injured in the Great Hall so that was the first red flag and then the rest of the wing was empty so that was the second. But… yes, I think it was the curse that sent me back in time and no, I’ve not the slightest clue why.”
He closes his eyes and tries to get his thoughts under control again, lest he go on another tangent he doesn’t need to go on. They need relevant information, not the knowledge of where they were keeping their injured.
“Harry, why did Voldemort kill you in the first place?” Lupin speaks up.
Harry shakes his head, not opening his eyes, “I can’t answer those questions right now, I’m barely holding it together, just… let Professor Dumbledore ask the questions right now.”
Lupin takes an audible step back and Harry opens his eyes, looking at Dumbledore.
“Well, I don’t know what else there is to ask, my boy,” Dumbledore says solemnly. “You think it was the killing curse that sent you back in time and I don’t see what else it could’ve been, unless you have a time turner hidden somewhere.”
“No, they were all destroyed in my fifth year,” Harry mumbles. Dumbledore looks slightly taken back by this but does a good job of hiding it.
“Is there any other possible reason as to why this could’ve happened?”
Harry thinks about what happened after the curse. It all comes back to him suddenly and he almost gets dizzy by the sheer force of it. King's Cross. The talk with Dumbledore. The talk with Death.
Bloody fucking Death.
Harry sighs, “Yes. Okay, um, this is going to sound absolutely barmy but just let me explain.”
Everyone nods.
He quickly starts explaining how he came to be the owner of all three Deathly Hallows — Christmas, first year. Disarming Malfoy. The snitch opening in the forest — and then his conversation with Death after the fact that explained how he’s the Master of Death and basically has free reign with his own life after dying. By the time he finishes, nobody is giving him disbelieving looks but they do look rather bewildered, even Dumbledore.
“So, this wasn’t the killing curse’s fault, but your own?” Sirius says slowly, as if testing all the words out in his mouth.
“Technically. Death is very manipulative with his words but yes, it was me who made the final decision,” Harry says. “But I didn’t know I’d wake in a different year, I thought I would be waking up in the present so I could defeat Voldemort once and for all so I’m just as shocked as you guys.”
“You certainly aren’t acting like it,” McGonagall says.
“It’s been a very rough sixteen years, this is just Tuesday,” Harry says.
“Merlin,” James mutters, shaking his head. There’s a hint of amusement in his voice when he speaks again, “Couldn’t have at least pretended to have a good first eleven?”
Harry blinks before remembering that he’s not told them the finer details of his life.
“Um, well, I had a good first year,” Harry says carefully. “But… Well, my showing up here seemed to have prevented… your… deaths.”
“Oh,” the amusement is gone now. “Well, that’s decidedly less fun than what I was thinking.”
Harry nods. He looks at Sirius and Lupin before looking back at his parents and swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, “But tonight still happened? He still attacked and tried to kill me?”
Lily frowns, “Yes but we had our wands and managed to fight him off until the Order arrived to help.”
Harry finds that he quite likes her voice when it’s just speaking normally. The only other time he’s heard it has been in nightmares or around dementors and it had been pleading for his life in those times so this is much more preferable to that.
“He’s still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Oh,” Harry slumps back in his seat. “I guess we’ll have to find out some other way to defeat him.”
A thought occurs and Harry perks back up, “The Longbottom’s, are they — ?”
“Fine. The wards are holding up, their secret keeper is holding steady,” Dumbledore says.
Harry lets out a breath of relief, “Good. That’s good.” He doesn’t know what he’d do if he found out that Neville turned out to be the Boy Who Lived. That’s a burden he doesn’t want anybody else to have to deal with.
His eyes find his sleeping baby self and he frowns. Teddy. He left the boy behind. He’s going to grow up without his godfather or his parents around, just like Harry did. Except Teddy at least gets to go to his grandmother, something Harry is immensely grateful for. He never even met the kid and Lupin still made him godfather, still trusted him enough to help raise his kid if the worst happened.
Harry finds himself hoping Malfoy and his mother get to meet Teddy and isn’t that a weird thought? But he thinks it’s what they deserve, after the war. It’s obvious neither of them want to be on the side they’re on and if Andromeda can perhaps forgive her sister, Teddy might have a better aunt to help raise him than Harry ever did. A better cousin.
Harry has no idea when he started looking for the good in people but he supposes it's not a bad thing. Better than just thinking everybody is evil until they prove themselves to not be, he guesses.
“You really are eerily calm about all of this,” Lily says softly.
“I’ve been screaming inside of my head ever since I woke up but yeah, let’s continue to think that,” Harry nods. Sirius snorts and James cracks a smile.
“Of course you are but the fact that you aren’t showing how freaked out you are is impressive,” Lily says. “I don’t want to think about the possible reasons as to why you can stay this calm but it’s much more preferable to you being an incoherent mess.”
“Luckily for you, I also don’t want to think about the reasons so we’re on the same page here.”
Lily shakes her head, a smile threatening her lips as she looks down at the sleeping form in her arms. “Gah, that’s so bizarre. My one-year-old son in my arms and my seventeen-year-old son in front of me.”
Harry feels like his throat closes as those words. Right. He’s her son. That’s his mother. There’s a four year age gap between them but that’s his mother and that’s his father.
It is bizarre.
“Harry, you said you didn’t know the exact date,” Lupin suddenly says and Harry looks at him. Merlin, he’s so young, it’s strange. “Why is that?”
“Um… I was on the run most of the year. It was the end of April or the beginning of May, that’s really all I know. I tried to keep track after Christmas but that was useless,” Harry shrugs.
“On the run?” James says.
“Among other things. Voldemort took control of the ministry so I was Undesirable Number One for the year, being his biggest threat, so… I kinda had to lay low. There was a taboo on his name, that’s why I said ‘You-Know-Who’. I’m not afraid of saying the name, it was just that I couldn’t without giving up our hiding spot so I’ve gotten used to not saying it over the year.”
“I think you’ve been through more than we can imagine, kid,” Sirius says.
“Well, I think it’s pretty imaginable but certainly things you wouldn’t expect,” Harry says.
“I can’t tell who you got the sassiness and sarcasm from, it’s like a mixture of them both,” Lupin says.
“That is the first time someone has compared me to them in a way that isn’t by my looks, believe it or not,” Harry says. “Though, I believe I got a bit more of my father’s personality than my mother’s, considering how unbelievably stupid I am.”
This earns a laugh out of everybody.
“Offensive, first of all,” James says. “And second of all, who allowed you to know that I’m stupid?”
“Um, anybody who knew you,” Harry says and James looks scandalized by the words, making Harry laugh for the first time in a while. “Sirius, Lupin, Moody, Kingsley, Snape. I think the only people who never downright told me that my mother was the brains of everything was Dumbledore and Hagrid.”
“Snape? Really?” Sirius says.
“I fought tooth and nail with Snape about my father on multiple occasions, he was the only one I never believed when he told me the height of my father’s stupidity,” Harry says. “It took me watching some of his memories to finally understand and also see how wrong I was when I denied the fact that my father strutted.”
James snorts, “I can't even argue, I did.”
“You do,” Lily smirks and laughs when James gives her an incredulous look.
“Harry, are you hungry?” McGonagall asks, seemingly out of the blue.
Harry blinks and quickly realizes that yes, he very much is. He can’t remember the last time he had a proper meal, he’s been living off mushrooms and food rations for so long now. He’s not even sure he can eat a meal. He remembers the first start-of-term feast, where he ate so much he made himself sick later, to the point where it was painful. His body just hadn’t been used to eating proper food and when it finally got it, it didn’t know how to act. He thinks that might happen again.
“Yes but I don’t think I can eat much. I’ve been living off the bare minimum for a year, I’ll make myself sick with just one plate, honestly,” Harry says.
McGonagall frowns, “Well, I’ll have the house elves make you something small, then. We might move this to the staff room, you can all eat. Albus has a school to run and I have classes but I assume you can all at least look after yourselves for the time being.”
“Course we can, Minnie,” Sirius flashed a smile at her. “We’re idiots but we’re not incompetent.”
“I’d like to believe that, Mr. Black, I really would,” McGonagall says, earning a bark of laughter as she leaves the headmaster's office.
“I believe Minerva is right. Need I direct you to the staff room?” Dumbledore says.
“We got it,” James says. “Thank you for letting us hide out here while we figure this out.”
“Of course, Mr. Potter. Now, I do have a school to run and breakfast will be starting soon,” Dumbledore stands up. “I will come and check on you after dinner. Stay in the staff room, please, we don’t need students causing trouble. Wards would help as well, I’ll inform the professors to steer clear.”
“We will, Professor,” Lily says. “Once again, thank you. Now, come on, boys, I don’t trust James not to get us lost.”
“Hey, I know this castle like the back of my hand, Mrs. Potter, I would not get us lost,” James says.
Harry stands up and Lupin and Sirius fall into pace next to him as they follow Lily and James out of the office.
“Remus knows this castle like the back of his hand, you just like to think you do,” Lily says.
Lupin smirks, “While that is true, it was James here who informed me of many features of the castle I wouldn’t have known about without him.”
“Jimmy-boy here could never sleep through the night so he would often take to exploring the castle instead of sleeping,” Sirius says. “It was his idea for the Marauder’s Map, actually, and it was him who did all the charm work and drawings.”
Harry stays silent as Sirius and Lupin try to convince Lily that James was the real mastermind behind the map. He’s suddenly tired. He doesn’t know how long he slept in the hospital wing but it can’t have been long if just last night was when he showed up and it’s not even breakfast yet. He thinks he might eat and find a nice chair in the staff room to curl up in. Maybe ask after some dreamless sleep to actually get some quality rest in. Madam Pomfrey would never, though, not without sitting down and asking why he wants it. It’s too easy to get addicted to dreamless sleep, she takes all the precautions she can when handing it out to students.
They reach the staff room eventually and while there’s a bigger selection of food for the other five — six, if you include Baby Harry — there’s also a smaller plate for Harry. Just like he asked. He takes it as he sits down at the table and grabs one of the forks left for them.
“So, Harry, we were in the hospital wing for a little bit after you showed up and we saw… a lot,” Lily says gingerly after James transfigures a chair into a crib and she lays Baby Harry down in it. The cat he thinks he recognizes is lying next to the crib, watching Baby Harry intently.
Harry freezes in his movement to shoves food into his mouth for a second before doing just that, chewing and swallowing quickly, and saying, “Okay. And you have questions?”
“Yes. A lot,” Lily says. “There’s a scar on your shoulder, looks pretty old compared to some of the other ones we saw, what is it?”
“Um, that one’s from a basilisk,” Harry says. “Second year,” he takes another bite.
“Basilisk. Right,” Lily nods. “Okay. Your hand?”
Harry looks at the scar on his hand. I must not tell lies. He never got around to asking Firenze what they actually did to her in the forest.
“Blood quill. Fifth year,” Harry says. “Must’ve written it over a hundred times.”
Everyone looks uneasy at the idea of Harry using a blood quill at fifteen but nobody pries.
“And… and how exactly did you get the scar of your forehead?”
Harry wonders if he’s going to be around long enough to see Baby Harry grow up. It’ll certainly be something to see himself without the scar. The scar is prominent on his forehead, that’s where the zig-zag shape of it actually is, but the end extends into his eyebrow and through his eye, stopping just below his nose. It’s the first thing anybody ever notices on him, even with the lightning part of it covered.
“It’s where Voldemort hit me with the curse,” Harry says. “The first time. Last night, it’s where he would’ve hit me, or him, if I hadn’t shown up. The curse rebounded and hit him and killed him that night, marking me the Boy Who Lived and all that bullshit.”
“Language,” Lily scolds and Harry cracks a smile.
“That’s why I was so panicked about Neville. If Voldemort had gone to him instead, made him the Boy Who Lived… I couldn’t live with myself knowing Neville would have to grow up with that burden. I didn’t even have to grow up around it but Neville would be taken to his grandmother, he’d still grow up in the wizarding world. I’m glad he’s still safe, and his parents.”
Lily smiles softly, “I’m glad he’s safe too. You were quite good friends with him, y’know. We’re all in hiding so Dumbledore didn’t have too many qualms about us letting you two have play dates and such. Were you good friends with Neville when you grew up and joined the wizarding world again?”
“Not as good of a friend as I should’ve been but we were friends,” Harry nods. “I hope it was him who actually killed Voldemort in the end. I bet it was.”
Silence falls over them and after Harry has managed to get in a few more bites, James speaks up.
“Do you like Quidditch?”
Harry blinks. How long has it been since he played? Too long, he decides.
“Yeah. Love it,” Harry says.
“Do you play?” Sirius asks.
Harry can tell he’s getting that arrogant look on his face that Hermione hates, “Course I do. Seeker.”
“Dammit,” James says.
Harry grins and feels the ghost of a newspaper smacking him in the back of the head for it. “Since first year.”
They all stare at him and he laughs.
“No way. Nobody gets onto the team in first year, it’s not even allowed,” James says.
“Number seven. Youngest in the century,” Harry says and James huffs a laugh.
“And you’re quite proud of that, aren’t you?” Lupin says.
“It’s the one thing I managed to accomplish myself,” Harry shrugs. “Sure, I killed Voldemort as a baby but I didn’t mean to. Plus, I’m quite a good seeker if I do say so myself.”
“Yes, yes, I’m sure you are,” Lupin rolls his eyes. “I never understood how people with such bad eyesight can be good at the game.”
“Me neither,” Harry says. “I’m a firm believer in luck, mainly bad, but I’ve had a few moments of good.”
“Well, that’s what being a Potter gets you,” James says.
There’s suddenly a small cry from the crib James made and James is the first one to shoot up and make his way over. He picks up Baby Harry with an exaggerated grunt, “Good morning, Prongslet!”
Baby Harry brightens at the sight of his father and laughs loudly when James throws him up and catches him.
“Change his nappy and then he can get some food,” Lily tells James.
James does what she asks and makes his way back over to the table afterward. He sits down with Baby Harry in his lap and notices that McGonagall even asked the house elves to put some baby food with the food, baby food she knows Harry likes. He grabs it with a mumbled thanks to McGonagall and opens the small jar, grabbing a spoon and starting to feed Baby Harry.
Older Harry is having a hard time processing this. Half of his brain is telling him stop, that’s you, don’t be weird and the other half is screaming cute baby! and he doesn’t know which side to listen to. He thinks about Teddy again and he wishes he could’ve met the baby before his death.
“Your face is conveying very conflicted feelings about your younger self,” Sirius says.
“Yeah. I don’t know how to act,” Harry says. “Because part of me is like ‘oh, cute baby, I want to hold him’ and the other part is like ‘that’s you, you weirdo’ so I’m not really sure how to go about this.”
“It’s not you,” James says softly. “It’s the same person but… you grew up without us, you grew up famous and in the Muggle world. He’s you but he’s not going to be you.”
That seems to make Harry’s feelings sort themselves out. James is right, of course he is, and Harry doesn’t know how he didn’t realize that sooner.
Lily notices and smiles, “And you can hold him. Just let him eat and let James burp him or he’ll puke on you.”
“Well, not many people get to say they got puked on by themselves but alright,” Harry says. They all laugh.
The cat jumps onto the table and it hits Harry so violently he almost chokes.
“Holy shit, Crookshanks ?” he looks at Harry with that same look of blatant disgust he always gives Harry despite loving Harry more than Hermione and Harry laughs. “Of course you were my cat, of course Hermione adopted you, that's… Jesus Christ.”
His name must still be Crookshanks because Harry doesn’t get corrected.
“The fate of our cat was your best friend? That makes me a little happier when I think about our deaths,” James says.
“He spent eleven years in the Magical Menagerie, she adopted him in our third year, but yes, he ended up with her. No wonder he always liked me more,” Harry reaches across and scratches the underside of Crookshanks’ chin like he knows the cat loves. Crookshanks starts purring immediately and Harry smiles, “You’ve got two Harry’s now, you’ll be in heaven.”
Crookshanks sends him what can only be described as a glare and Harry laughs.
Eventually — Harry doesn’t know how it happened — he ends up in a chair by a fireplace with Baby Harry in his arms and Crookshanks in his lap.
It’s strangely emotional and Harry hates it.
When he feels his eyes starting to get heavy, he passes Baby Harry off to Sirius and sets Crookshanks on the ground before he pulls his legs into the chair, letting his head fall back against it as he stares at the fire.
“You can sleep, I can see how tired you are,” Lily tells him. “We’ll wake you up when it’s time for the Order meeting, I’m sure you’ll want to go.”
“Yes, I do,” Harry mumbles. “Thank you.”
“Of course. Get some sleep.”
Harry takes his glasses off so he doesn’t wake up with indents on his face and closes his eyes.
He falls asleep within minutes and surprisingly, nothing wakes him up.