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Harry only recognised the house in front of him from the few pictures that Remus had shown him. It was a large, red, brick house with plants climbing up the exterior. This house was much bigger than the one he’d grown up in with his aunt.
On the right was a big window leading into the kitchen, he could see it all. They looked happy, fussing over the small child in the chair. If you were only seeing this small part of the world, you would have never guessed the horrible things that were currently going on.
The cold autumn rain drummed against his back; he was drenched head to toe after standing there for what had felt like an eternity. Just watching. Waiting to see if the people inside would notice him standing out in the rain. They didn’t.
DING DONG
He ringed the doorbell and listened as hurried steps moved closer to the door. During this time everyone was on edge. They never knew if the person ringing their bell might be in need of help. Or at least that’s what Mr Weasley had told him. Harry had asked about the War one night when he knew the older man had had one too many to drink. Most avoided the topic like the plague.
The dark oak door swung open. And the man on the other side looked tired. Dark circles decorating his face, making him look much older than he was. His hair was a mess, much like his glasses which sat crookedly on his nose.
“Hello? Can I help you?” the man- his father -asked with a kind smile, voice so similar to his own it almost hurt to listen. Harry never thought he’d get the chance to hear it.
Harry had imagined this moment all his life, but the words just didn’t come. Say something! His own mind screamed at him. Nothing came.
A woman- his mother -with the most vibrant red hair rounded the corner until she was standing next to the man. She looked worried for a second before her eyes found Harry’s and it was all replaced with a bright but solemn smile. She shook it off and turned back to the man.
“James, move out of the way and let the poor boy in.” she demanded, slapping him lightly on the arm. “Go get him a blanket.” it was almost funny seeing much smaller woman boss around the man. “I’m Lily.” She greeted and shook his hand.
The house was warm and welcoming. He didn’t expect anything else from them.
“What's your name?” Lily asked as he followed her into the kitchen. She motioned for him to sit down at the dinner table as she walked over to the counter.
“M-my name?”
Lily chuckled. “Yes, love. I promise you're safe here.”
“Dean.” He had to come up with something so they wouldn’t know. “Dean Thomas.” Dean probably wouldn't mind Harry borrowing his name.
She handed him a warm cup of tea and took the seat in front of him, smiling fondly at him.
“Well, hello, Dean. This is my son Harry.” she pointed at the baby sitting next to her. Harry hadn't noticed him, being too distracted seeing his mum for the first time.
It was strange seeing his younger self. He wasn’t much older than a year here. Being only a little less than a month before they go into hiding. A month before it all goes wrong.
James or well his dad comes into the kitchen wearing a bright smile. Placing a large towel around Harry’s shoulders before sitting down next to Lily.
“What? No tea for me?” he joked, placing a quick kiss on her cheek. They laughed. It made Harry happy.
Lily picked up baby Harry and held him in her arms. The baby smiled so wide it looked like his face would crack in half. Harry had never seen himself so happy.
James turned towards Harry. “Right, sorry. I’m James.” holding his hand out for Harry to shake.
“Dean,” he shook his father’s hand. “I’m sorry for intruding.”
“Oh no worries, darling.” Lily reassured. “We’re just happy we could help.”
Both of them smiled softly at him. He looked away not being able to look them in the eyes.
He looked around instead. The walls were covered with pictures of all their friends and family. Harry’s eyes caught on one particular picture. It was his mum and next to her were two girls. A blond girl which he guessed to be Marlene McKinnon and the other with dark curly hair, who for some reason looked a lot like Dean’s mum. But that couldn’t be, she was a muggle, and the picture was from their school years at Hogwarts. He decided to let it go.
He continued to look around till he saw a picture of four guys; James, Sirius, Remus and... Peter. Harry was desperate to tell his parents what was going to happen. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know what consequences it could have on the future. It hurt. It hurt so much knowing that he could save them with just a word.
“Dean,” James said weirdly, and it took Harry a few seconds to realise he was refereeing to him. “Are you in trouble?”
“Wh-what?”
James held Lily’s free hand on top of the table. “Are you in trouble? You seem rather distressed?”
Harry chuckled wetly as tears started to crawl up his throat. “Oh no,” he wiped one that managed to escape. “I’m fine.”
“You can tell us, son .” James said. Harry couldn’t take it. It was all too much.
He stood up quickly making the chair scrape horribly against the floor and the towel fall off his shoulders. “I-I I’m sorry,” he felt pathetic as he stood there, tears falling down his cheeks. “I better get going.” he mumbled.
Hurrying out the kitchen. He couldn’t be there anymore. He couldn’t look them in the face and act as if nothing's wrong when he knows. He knows it all.
He could hear the sound of them standing up and coming after him. He didn’t stop.
“Harry wait!” they yelled after him.
His hand stilled around the door handle.
GO! JUST MOVE!
But he didn’t. He couldn’t. They knew. He couldn’t leave now. No matter how much he tried his feet didn’t move an inch of the maroon welcoming mat.
He turned around as he heard them come to a stop behind him.
“Harry please, don’t go,” his mum begged.
“Yo-you know?” the tears still hadn't stopped. But he wasn’t the only one.
“How could we not?” James spoke softly, taking a step closer to him. Harry looked quickly between the two. “You’re our son.”
He collapsed. Right into his father’s arms and James let him. It was the first time he’d hugged his dad, the first time he could actually remember. And Harry didn’t want it to ever stop. Lily joined them not more than a moment later. Stroking his hair and comforting him.
So this is what home feels like?
“Why did you come back here, Harry?” Lily asked him as she cradled his face. She hadn't let him go since the hug, always holding on to some part of him. Like she was scared of letting go.
James was standing right by her with a hand around her waist. They’d all calmed down a little while ago. Not having moved from the door. They knew Harry couldn’t stay for long at risk of disrupting the timeline.
“I wanted to see you,” he spoke softly. Leaning into his mother’s touch.
He hadn’t really realised how alike he was to his dad. Everyone always talked about his eyes and how he looked like his mother. The only one who had mentioned his likeness to his dad was Sirius. Even calling him James by accident sometimes. Harry had never minded.
“But Harry, why did you have to go back to see us? Did something happen?” James asked.
Oh . He hadn’t thought about this part.
Tears formed in his eyes again and he smiled solemnly.
“Yeah, of course.” he scrubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. He did his best to keep his voice from breaking. “It was more of a graduation present from McGonagall.”
Lies.
Lies.
Lies.
He hated it. His one chance of speaking to them and here he was, lying through his teeth.
“I have to go,” he rushed out. Opening the door for what he knew was the last time. Lily pulled him back into her, giving him one last hug. James did the same.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” his dad asked again.
“Yeah. I promise.”
He closed the door behind him returning to the moment he’d left.
As soon as he was back in McGonagall’s office he fell apart. Ron and Hermione were there to catch him. He hugged the ginger boy so hard he was sure it must’ve hurt.
“I want to go home ,” he sobbed into his friend's chest.
The crying boy never got to go home. Not until he took his final breath in the mortal world. He died knowing he was coming home.