Chapter Text
A New Beginning
Harry had died. He remembered it clearly—his last moments, the sensation of his body fading, the emptiness that came after. But death had not been the end. Instead, it had brought him here, to a time before he was ever supposed to exist.
When Harry first opened his eyes, he was no longer the scarred, war-weary man who had faced death countless times. He was a baby—helpless and small, wrapped in warm blankets, cradled in the arms of a woman with dark hair and kind eyes. Dorea Potter. His mother. His real mother this time. And the man beside her, gazing down at him with pride and adoration, was Charlus Potter—his father.
For the first time in what felt like eternity, Harry had a real family.
Meeting James
Harry was three when he met his cousin, James.
He had been sitting on the floor of the Potter estate, playing with a stuffed lion, when his Aunt Euphemia had entered the room, holding a tiny bundle wrapped in soft blue blankets. Harry’s bright green eyes widened as she knelt in front of him with a warm smile.
“Harry, would you like to meet your cousin?” she asked gently. “This is James.”
Harry stared at the baby, fascinated. He had never been around babies before—at least, not that he could remember. He glanced up at his Aunt Euphemia, who was watching him expectantly.
“Do you want to hold him?” she offered.
Harry hesitated for a moment, then nodded eagerly. He carefully reached out as Euphemia guided James into his small arms. The baby was warm, tiny, and so fragile. James blinked up at him, his chubby hands wiggling in the air before grasping onto Harry’s sleeve.
A laugh bubbled out of Harry as James cooed softly, his tiny fingers tightening around the fabric.
“He likes you,” Euphemia chuckled.
Harry grinned. “He’s so small,” he whispered in awe, gently brushing a finger over James’s soft cheek. “Hi, James,” he greeted shyly.
James gurgled, then let out a tiny sneeze, making Harry giggle.
From that moment on, Harry was smitten.
Sweet Moments
As James grew, so did his attachment to Harry. He followed Harry everywhere, waddling after him as soon as he could walk. If Harry was outside playing, James wanted to be there too. If Harry was reading, James would curl up beside him, clumsily turning the pages even though he couldn’t understand the words.
“Harry!” James would call out constantly, his tiny legs carrying him across the estate as he searched for his cousin.
Whenever James fell, Harry was always the first to pick him up, brushing away his tears. When James wanted to play, Harry never said no. They were inseparable, and James adored Harry more than anyone in the world.
The Hogwarts Letter
Harry was eleven when the letter arrived, and James was eight.
The moment Harry opened the envelope, excitement filled the house. Charlus and Dorea beamed with pride, and even Fleamont and Euphemia clapped in delight. But James… James was horrified.
Harry barely had time to celebrate before James burst into loud, uncontrollable wails.
“NOOOOO!” James howled, clinging to Harry’s waist. “DON’T GO, HARRY!”
Harry blinked, caught off guard by the reaction. “James—”
“I DON’T WANT YOU TO LEAVE!” James sobbed, burying his face in Harry’s shirt.
Dorea and Euphemia rushed forward, trying to pry the distraught child away, but James clung tighter, refusing to let go. His small hands fisted Harry’s robes, and his little shoulders shook as he sobbed.
“James,” Harry soothed, running a hand through the boy’s messy hair. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m just going to Hogwarts. I’ll write to you all the time!”
James lifted his tear-streaked face. “You p-promise?” he hiccupped.
Harry smiled and knelt to his level. “I promise. And I’ll tell you all about Hogwarts when I come back for the holidays.”
James sniffled. “You won’t forget me?”
“Never,” Harry swore, pulling James into a hug. “You’re my favorite little cousin, remember?”
James hiccupped but nodded against Harry’s shoulder. “O-okay… but I don’t like this.”
Harry chuckled, ruffling James’s hair. “I know, buddy. But I’ll be back before you know it.”
The Day Harry Left
Platform 9¾ was bustling with students and families, but all Harry could focus on was the crying eight-year-old clinging to his arm.
James was wailing again, his tiny fists gripping Harry’s robes as if trying to physically keep him from leaving.
“Don’t go!” James sobbed, tugging at Harry’s sleeve. “I take it back—I don’t want you to go to Hogwarts!”
Charlus sighed as Dorea tried to calm him. “James, sweetheart, you’ll see Harry soon—”
“NO!” James shouted. “I WANT HIM TO STAY!”
Harry felt a lump in his throat as he knelt down. “James, I’ll be back for Christmas,” he reminded gently.
James shook his head furiously. “That’s too long!”
Harry pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll never forget you, okay? You’re my favorite little cousin, and you always will be.”
James sniffled but nodded weakly.
The train’s whistle blew. It was time.
Harry gave James one last squeeze before stepping onto the train. He leaned out the window, waving as the train started moving.
James waved back furiously, running alongside the train. “HARRY!” he cried, trying to keep up.
Harry pressed his hand against the window, watching as James fell behind. “I’ll write to you!” he called.
James kept running until he couldn’t anymore. When the train disappeared from view, he let out a heartbroken wail, clutching Euphemia’s hand.
“I want Harry back!” he sobbed.
Euphemia sighed, holding him close. “I know, sweetheart,” she whispered, stroking his hair. “I know.”
Charlus, standing beside them, chuckled. “Well, that’s one way to make an exit,” he mused.
Dorea shook her head, smiling softly. “They’re going to miss each other terribly.”
As James continued to cry, all he could think about was how much he already missed Harry.
And Harry, watching the platform fade in the distance, felt the same.