until the end

Perhaps Euphemia should have been more concerned about the stranger simply walking into her house, but with a single look to his face it told her everything she needed to know. Maybe not the entire story, but this young man was somehow related to her loving husband. Between the jawline, the nose, even the shape of his mouth. “Let me guess. My darling husband got his nails into you first,” she guessed laughing happily as she reached out to brush his hair back from his face really looking at him. “You look so much like James. Except those beautiful eyes. Those are stunning,” she was shaking her head as she took a step away from him. Mia knew that she was being overwhelming. This poor young man probably didn’t even know who she was and she was in his personal space. “Where’s my manners though. Are you hungry? Or even thirsty? I can whip something up fairly quickly.” If there was something that she knew it was how to be a good host, but an even better mother hen. After all there was a well fed Sirius and Marlene running around somewhere knowing they were loved and had a home in her arms. Better than she could say for their families. She brushed by him pressing a kiss to the side of his head deciding that he did need a bit to eat before he even had a chance to say something. “While I’m warming something up why don’t you tell me what’s weighing down those shoulders of yours?”

“Is it that obvious?” Harry let out a nervous laugh as he mused with his hair, tugging the ends down to try and cover the ends of the scar. He wasn’t ashamed of it, not anymore, but it couldn’t be helped. The Dursleys had never cared, but that didn’t mean he wanted his grandmother to see a scar and worry. Even if she had no idea who he was. Fleamont had believed it too easily, from the fact his twelve-year-old had a child to that child nearing twenty. “Thank you.” He said with a tiny smile, nerves still lingering on his face. “I’ve been told I have my mother’s eyes.” Harry let out a small laugh. It was just as freeing as it was odd to think he could say that to someone who wouldn’t already know. “No, no, I’m fine, really.” Harry attempted to argue, his voice trailing off as she walked around him; at least that was familiar. Molly had done it to him his entire life. That small flash of familiarity was calming, even with the nerves still rushing through him. Harry blinked at his grandmother - his grandmother’s - words before he shook his head. “Nothing.” He said, too quickly. “I couldn’t explain it if I tried.”

Lily had barely been hanging on by the barest of threads. Okay, that was laughable at best. She wasn’t holding on at all. She was hiding in the bottom of alcohol bottles because it was the only way to hide from the pain that threatened to swallow her whole the moment her parents had gone missing. Anytime the pain became too much she simply opened a bottle of alcohol and drank until she couldn’t feet the crater in her chest that threatened to over take her. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest option when it came to hiding from her pain, but it certainly worked. That plan though came to a crashing end when she read the Daily Prophet. Suddenly there was nothing that could control the pain that ripped through her at not having any answers. Or even a clue on how to process what was happening. Maybe the Leaky Cauldron wasn’t the best of answers to hide out at but at least until one of her brothers or Colin or even Rose came to rescue her so she wasn’t alone with her thoughts at least she had someone to lean on. Even if they were strangers.

Harry dreaded going out in public, for the same reasons as his sister but for different reasons Where Cassiopeia had every intention of getting into a fight if anyone irritated her (easy to do these days, not that he had room to talk), he was flooded no matter what he did. London’s golden boy had no right to being left alone, even if that was all he wanted. He had gotten used to it before, had numbed himself to all of the praise he got just walking down the street for what he did to end the war; how brave he was; how much peace he must have felt. He didn’t feel peace. Not then, and definitely not now, as reports he couldn’t understand kept coming out and his parents - all three of them - were suddenly alive again. Teddy was a fully grown man. None of it was making sense. “Hey, Tom.” Harry said with a tired sigh as he walked into the Leaky Cauldron alone, glancing around briefly just to make sure he wasn’t being watched before he dropped to the closest chair. He only caught sight of the red hair a moment later and after a double take, and then a third, Harry realized it wasn’t Ginny. “Sorry.” He apologized dumbly, realizing a fraction of a second too late he had stared.

“And you’re Harry Potter,” James was trying to contain himself and the way it made him feel, but there was no doubt in his very soul that he was staring at his son. He looked too much like him, but with Lily’s eyes, that there was no way that it was anyone else. He couldn’t have fought the way his lips twitched upward in a smile. All he ever wanted was to be able to watch his son grow up, and figure out what kind of adult that he would become. Seeing his son standing there though meant at least he would be able to figure out the adult part. “Or am I embarrassing myself? It’s just–you look like me, but with my wife’s eyes. Exactly how I’d pictured our son Harry looking.” He wanted to wrap his arms around him hugging him tightly if only to hold his son once more.

Harry’s throat got painfully dry, almost as if it would tear right open should he dare to speak. Instinctively he reached for the scar, almost daring it to sting - but there was nothing. There had been nothing for so long. This wasn’t a trick, not one of Voldemort’s, anyways. As much as he wanted to believe this was their gravesites and being so ear the house messing with him, but he knew it wasn’t. If that had never happened before, why would it now? With so much other strange news happening in London and Cassiopeia having also seen her dead father. Magic couldn’t awaken the dead and yet there he was. Looking the very same in the few photos Harry had of his father, and nothing like the vague, opaque ghost he had been in the woods. Sirius was real. Something lodged in his throat and somehow made his stomach churn at the same time. Clearing his throat, Harry felt his eyes stinging, but there was no getting around that now. “I – yeah, I am.” He croaked out, bracing himself for the weight of the next words, ones he had long accepted never getting to say aloud. “..Hi, dad.”

Was it the best course of action to walk out of his job the moment he had stepped into the ministry and noticed that there was suddenly an influx of other employees who should have been six feet under the ground. James had been so wrapped up in trying to figure out what had happened to his parents that he hadn’t considered anything else that could be going on. Suddenly though an overwhelming sense of panic hit him wondering if their disappearances meant they were gone gone and that was how now others were rising from their graves. “What the fuck,” he murmured to himself unable to help the way his explosive anger needed a physical outlet as he threw his fist at a brick wall. “Fuck!” He groaned pulling the now bloodied knuckles back looking down at the busted skin. James shot a quick glance around himself at the busy streets of London not sure how he was suppose to act like things were normal.

It wasn’t often that Harry sought out the muggle world. He had nothing against it; there was something to be said about being ignorant to magic. He could walk through as many streets as he wanted and nobody would recognize him; there had been enough times in the year since the war ended when Harry disappeared to muggle London to escape the stares. It was a trick he tried not to use often, but the news had exploded with reports the same day he saw Sirius, and if being the boy who lived, the chosen one, the man who defeated Voldemort, wasn’t all bad enough, that had nothing on the people who stopped him now. So far, he had done a decent enough job avoiding reporters, but it was only a matter of time. They had all already started to hound him, trying to get what Harry Potter thought about his parents and so many others coming back from the dead - and that was the thing. For as much as Harry wanted nothing else his entire life, he had no idea how to process it actually happening. So muggle London it was, enjoying that even with the business of the streets, it was still infinitely calmer than anything at home. Harry knew he should be in the city helping, but he couldn’t. Even if Kingsley hadn’t come right out and said it, Harry knew his presence in the eye of the storm wasn’t helping anything. He stepped out of the alley he apparated into and his eyebrows drew together as he instantly turned to the voice and the sight of bloody knuckles. He couldn’t judge; how many times had Harry been desperate to hit something just to feel better? Too many to count. Yet he couldn’t help himself. “What’d the wall do?” 

Sirius didn’t hesitate to tuck his god son into his arms as he smiled. “Oh, sweet boy. I don’t remember it, but dying for you? Or Cassiopeia? Would be the greatest death I could ask for. So do not hold that on those shoulders of yours. You hear me?” He asked curiously. There was no question for him. If it came down to protecting the people that he cared about he wouldn’t care about the price he had to pay. They’d always come first. “But damn am I proud of you guys for accomplishing that. It was never a fight that you should have had to take on, but the fact that you did and you took care of him? I’m proud of you.” He knew that it didn’t erase any of the trauma that Harry had, but he needed him to know that he always had him in his corner. Even when he wasn’t physically the one there. Sirius reached out to muse up his hair smiling, “Now how about we focus on something that isn’t depressing. We can talk about all the hard things once I’m sober and can focus better. We can talk about more positive things right now.” Or so he hoped that there was something good his godson could tell him. He needed to believe that there was something after all the bad that they had been through, and their children. Two generations of lives that were effected by Voldemort. He’d be damned if some good at least came from all of it. They deserved it.

“Sirius, it was my fault. You might not remember or believe that, but it was. Cass barely spoke to me for a year.” They hadn’t really spoken at all, really, not until the night Dumbledore had died and she had shown up at the castle. She said that she didn’t blame him anymore but she didn’t have to. Harry did. “It was my fight. Everybody says it wasn’t, but he chose me. Or the prophecy did, I don’t know.” It didn’t matter. Harry had been tied to Voldemort the night he was born, and again the night he disappeared and James and Lily were killed. There was never going to be another option. “It’s.. it’s a really long story, Sirius.” Harry sighed heavily. One that he was never going to be able to forget. He lifted his eyes from a spot fixed behind his godfather to his face. The same face that was in the few photographs he had of his parents’ lives. More positive things. “It’s only been a year since the war ended. Things are...” He paused, letting out a deep sigh as he tried to focus on just one thing. He wanted to tell Sirius everything, just like he always had. “I think Cass is getting engaged.” Harry said suddenly, and dumbly, but it fell out anyway. “And I’m going back to Hogwarts once it’s repaired - that’s, uh, that’s part of the long story. McGonagall is the headmistress now and she gave me a job.” 

“Everything is fine,” Cedric quickly assured Harry knowing he probably should have started the conversation a little better than that. He reached up raking his hand through his hair as he shook his head with a laugh, “I actually wanted to talk to you about proposing to Cass, and you’re the closest person to family she has besides Draco which I do plan on asking him too. But I wanted your approval before it happened even if I’m sure you’re about to point out how idiotic I am for asking. It’s just—you’re important to her. To me. I wanted to be sure you were okay with it.” Ced knew he was rambling as he sucked in a deep breath before shaking his head. “Besides I need your help with a few things too for the proposal. I want it to be perfect for her.”

Harry’s brain ground to a halt. He blinked once, and then again. A third time for good measure. “What’s my approval got to do with anything?” He asked, his entire face twisting into an expression of confusion. Not just because Cedric and Cass had been together longer than Harry had even known them, or that she would do whatever she wanted and would inevitably hit him if he tried to say otherwise. “You’ve got it, obviously, but don’t people usually ask parents? You’re not seriously that afraid of Reginald Cattermole, are you?” It wasn’t the same as Sirius, nothing ever could be, but her godparents were still there. Whether she saw them much or not. Harry nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. Nothing about his sister’s impending engagement was bad news, and as that set in, he felt any of the dread he usually felt following we should talk disappeared. “What do you need, Ced?”

“No, but that’s what makes her columns popular with nosey wives,” she reminded him nudging her head underneath his chin as she smiled happily feeling completely wrapped around her boyfriend. “You are both far more sane than most. Your brains just see the world differently, and that’s something I love about you both.” She enjoyed the way he saw things. It was beautiful and enchanting, and often she wanted to see what he did. “I’ll at least see if she’s willing to go out for lunch. I know somedays are harder than others. I don’t want to twist her arm too much. But I would like a girls day either way.” Her hands moved to stroke up and down along his chest as she listened to his words. With anyone else she would have avoided the thought of children and the whole perfect life. Yet with Harry it felt so completely natural to want it all. “If that’s somewhere you would like to consider living you know I’ll support you. Where we live is never important to me as long as I have this. If you want to renovate the house you should have grown up in for our children to grow up in then we will.”

“I thought it was because they had nothing better to do with their time.” It was rude, especially taking into account that Molly Weasley read Rita Skeeter (or at least she used to), but that didn’t make it any less true. “She sees it a lot better than I do.” Harry knew what it was to have the need to believe in something. For him, it had been Hogwarts and magic, and then Sirius, and then Dumbledore, until it was eventually himself. It was different than it was for Luna, but he appreciated that about her. Even at her lowest, she still seemed to have hope. “I hope she does. I don’t want to know how long it’s been since she left that house.” Harry said with a sigh as he readjusted his head atop of hers. Grimmauld Place was only a place for him. A home Sirius left that had been safe, but would never be home. But for Sirius it had been a prison for seventeen years, and then another long after he freed himself. Harry knew he was an idiot about a lot of things, but even he knew Cass was on the same path of locking herself away. Harry paused, letting out a short hum as he shook his head. “I don’t want the house.” It was as easy as breathing. Being in Godric’s Hollow would be one thing. But after reliving the last night his parents lived through Voldemort’s own eyes, watching them crumble, haunted by his mother’s scream... there was no possibility he could ever get past that. “I’m sorry. I know I can’t make up my mind.”

Teddy had always known without a doubt that he was welcome at either of his god parents’ homes. It had made it a little easier bouncing between them and his grandma growing up because there was never a lack of love. Unfortunately though he wasn’t sure what would greet him now. Cassiopeia had recognized him luckily, but that didn’t mean anything. He’d been hearing too many horror stories about parents not remembering their children to have any hopes that he would get lucky twice. With a crushed heart though he had to try. If anyone could understand the confusion and agony of losing both parents only to have them come back alive it was his godparents but he didn’t want to put the entire emotional weight on just Cass. For the first time in his entire life he simply raised his hand and knocked quietly on the front door hoping that it wouldn’t be slammed back in his face.

@hcrryjcmespcttxr​

Nothing made sense. It seemed that the more Harry tried to find some grasp of understanding, the more confused he got. His parents were live. Sirius was alive. Fred, Remus, Tonks. They were all back. And that was driving him mad trying to make sense of it. Though there was nothing quite like trying to find Teddy. It wasn’t a great feeling; honestly, not knowing where his godson was felt the worst anything ever had. Grief was unstoppable, but the panic that something had happened to Teddy in the middle of whatever else was going on was infinitely worse. He wasn’t with Cass. He had seen Ted Tonks for long enough to realize they wouldn’t have him. And Remus and Tonks... despite knowing either of them would be determined to find him too, Harry knew better than to think they would do it without finding anyone else first. Harry was doing his best to find him, but he had no idea where to start. What was he looking for, a toddler whose hair would instantly mimic his again or a child left the way he had been? Worse, a full grown man who had been alone. The realities kept getting worse the more he thought of them. He was supposed to give Teddy everything he hadn’t gotten. That was the promise he made to himself, to Lupin. To Teddy the morning after his parents’ died. Harry was pacing his flat, not for the first time wishing that he had the ability to think like Hermione to have a chance at finding an explanation at the sound of the door. He pulled it open and paused, trying to make sense of it. “Moon—” Harry’s eyes widened then, in a rare moment of understanding. It wasn’t a great feeling, for a number of reasons. “Teddy?” 

It wasn’t until they had both pulled apart that Sirius noticed the eye color was all wrong for his best mate, but it made sense. If his daughter was his age then why not the little tiny baby he had tucked in just a few days before too? “Harry,” he corrected himself as his smile softened really taking him in for a moment. “I wish I had that answer for you. For Cassiopeia. But all I know is everything felt odd when I woke up this morning, and now clearly it’s not the 80′s.” And something felt severely wrong with his own body, but he already knew better than to mention that. It would only make his daughter or Godson worry about him. He was going to figure out what was going on if only to give them both some answers. “As soon as I sober up I’m going to figure out what the hell is happening. I don’t want either of you putting yourself in any kind of dangerous positions just for answers. I’ll figure it out.” A heavy sigh escaped him though as he pulled his godson back into his arms clutching him tightly, “I’m happy to see you, my boy. I hate it under these circumstances, but I am happy.”

“You’ve seen Cass?” There wasn’t much relief to be found in hearing that. Some, yeah, because he knew he wouldn’t have to be the one to tell her. But if she knew and hadn’t found him yet, Harry knew that couldn’t mean anything good. Of course she should be the first to see him. That didn’t bother him much, but Cass... if she had retreated enough not to tell him about Sirius, he knew what that meant for how she was doing. “Sirius.” Harry breathed, hearing the way his voice cracked. So much loss and pain and death because of him. So much war and violence because he had been born. Harry had always felt responsible for all of it, not only his parents and Fred but all of the innocent lives everywhere else. Yet none had compared to the crater-sized ache his godfather left. Even if this didn’t end up being real and Harry had finally gone mad, he could see him one more time. That was all he had wanted for so long, and his mind had halted so much he barely heard much else of what Sirius said. “I don’t know if this is real. Or if you’ll remember it or know what I’m talking about, but I’m — I’m sorry. I never wanted - I never wanted you to die for me. Because of me. I thought he had you and I stopped thinking.” Harry’s voice broke again and his eyes spilled out. He had gotten so good at suppressing it until he was alone, but he couldn’t. Not when on the other side of his eyelids, Sirius was going through a veil. Nothing else had mattered then getting there in time and even though it wasn’t true, he still wasn’t fast enough. “I - I miss you. All of the time, and I — I need you to know that I did it. I beat him. He’s not coming back this time.” Harry didn’t know for certain if that was true, not if Sirius was standing in front of him. But he needed it to be. He needed Voldemort to be gone. He was too tired to do it again. “It’s finally over.”

“If I did find Ron wandering around without you nearby I would be more freaked out than anything given the fact he has no reason to be here otherwise,” Cedric admitted even though it didn’t make him trust that Ron wouldn’t for one reason or another. He wouldn’t mind though because if Weasley was that comfortable it meant that so was Harry which was all that he wanted. He was too important to both himself and Cass to not want him to be comfortable despite everything. He quickly looked over raising his eyebrows, “Wait hold on there’s weirder people?” He asked before laughing lightly, “I might have to try and be weirder if that’s the case. Although I have something to talk to you about.”

“I doubt we’d ever see him in here again if he had a say in it.” Ron wasn’t a fan of the house, and Harry couldn’t blame him for that. Grimmauld Place was the opposite of the burrow he had grown up in. “I dunno. There must be out there somewhere.” Harry shrugged, a laugh of amusement in his words. Malfoy existed and while he was more annoying than anything else, Harry maintained the fact the blond was a halfway decent person, apparently, was the strangest thing. Harry blinked, sobering up from the humor he felt a moment before. “Okay.” He said blankly. It was hard not to let himself worry something was wrong, because usually those words accompanied bad news no matter who said them, but this was Cedric. He usually wasn’t on that list. “What’s going on? Everything alright, Ced?”

Hermione felt relief flood through her body as a wide smile spread across her body. She didn’t hesitate as she rushed over to throw her hands around his neck pressing herself against him in a warm hug. “I’m not asking you two to become best friends, I just need to know that you’ll both at least get along in a civil way whenever I’m around.” She knew of course that both Harry and Draco both loved her enough that they’d keep any comments about each other to themselves when they were around her. There was no question that she was a lucky girl when it came to how much they loved her at least. “He did leave London for a bit, but he’s willing to move back for me. I think we will settle somewhere else though. All I know right now is that I want to be close to you and have him around those are the only two thing that are important to me anymore. Life is too short for me be too picky and demanding about details that aren’t important to me anymore. But the real question is are you happy, Harry?” Because more than anything else that was just as important to her as anything else.

If there was one thing Harry could count on, it was Hermione Granger throwing herself at him with no warning. It always seemed to surprise him even when it shouldn’t; she did it all the time, and it always managed to catch him off guard. Harry wrapped his arms around her and let out a short laugh. “I can’t make any promises but I’ll do my best.” So long as Malfoy wasn’t a complete prick, Harry might be able to keep most of his comments to himself - if not for his love of Hermione, than his fear of her. A lot had changed since they were students, even if it only had been a few years. Harry could attempt to tolerate Draco Malfoy for his sister and Hermione’s sake even if he didn’t quite see the appeal. “So you’re coming back? That’s brilliant, Hermione, really.” He meant that. Being without either of his best friends felt like a limb was missing. “I’m not unhappy.” Harry admitted. “I’m still working on the happiness bit. Not just because of all the unpacking.” No, that would be an insufferable task, but one he was excited for. A home of his own with Ginny, even if it was a small apartment, that was all he could have asked for. “I told Kingsley that I’m resigning from Auror training. McGonagall agreed to hire me onto the staff once the school is restored and open again.” There was a smile on Harry’s face just thinking about it. For as much as he knew he was needed as an Auror, it had felt like it was killing him even after only six months. Hogwarts had been his home and if he could have a part in fixing it and being part of it again, that was what felt right.

Mia couldn’t remember the last summer she had spent with a clean house and full cupboards, that was a lie it had been before James was born. She had a clean house for far too long. She loved the fact that her house was clearly a home to a child, but that child was clearly missing. As were the toys that he had strung across the house. Or his favorite snacks. It had taken one look at a copy of the Daily Prophet and noting the date and stories for her to at least kind of piece together everything that had happened. There were so many dark spots of information that she knew she was missing, and yet she was sure the questions would be all too easily answered. Still though she couldn’t bring herself to move from the dining table staring at article after article about people coming back to life as well as aging backwards and all the theories surrounding them. It was a lot. She raked a tired hand through her hair as she let out a sigh, “what’s going on,” she mumbled quietly wondering when she would get answers.

Harry had no idea what was going on. To be fair, he never did; that was how his life worked. Things happened and he never seemed to grasp how they were. But this was a new form of confusion, very specific. His father was alive. Sirius was alive. Remus, Tonks...his mother. Facing Lily was one thing he was still trying to bring himself to do; if falling part at the sight of his godfather had been bad enough, Harry knew it would be a million times worse to see his mother. There would be no coming back from that. None of it made any sense, which seemed to be a running theme. Going into the Ministry and being called into a room with Kingsley, for once without answers, and Fleamont Potter was the last thing he’d expected. His grandfather. For as confused as the man must have been, he had seemed to accept it in stride, something Harry had never been able to do. Function through confusion, yes, but that had never stopped the confusion. When it came to his grandfather it didn’t even seem to phase him. Now, Harry felt a strange sort of discomfort simply letting himself into their house. Fleamont said it was okay, had wanted him to even, but there was a surreal tingling against the back of his neck that wasn’t going away. This was what he always wanted, a family. To know them. But there was something about stepping into his grandparents’ house decades after they had died that was hard to come to grips with. “Oh - I’m sorry.” Harry apologized, holding his hands up when he came face to face with her. He knew who she was. From the mirror. From the few photos he had from Hagrid of his family. Harry never had grandparents. How were you supposed to speak to them under normal circumstances, let alone whatever was happening now? “I—was invited.” He said lamely. “I’m Harry.” Would that mean anything? Probably not. Fleamont hadn’t known his son was fully grown, let alone that James had a son, but it seemed like a better option than simply saying he was her surprise grandchild right off the bat.