James opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore interrupted before he could speak.
“I am a skilled Legilimens, as I believe you know, James.”
James jerked his head in acknowledgement and crossed his arms, scowling as Dumbledore continued calmly. “I wish to speak to the two of them alone.”
“But, sir,” burst James, “what if they try something?”
Dumbledore raised his bushy eyebrows and stared over his glasses at James. “I know I am old and decrepit, nevertheless, I believe I am still capable of protecting myself from two wandless young wizards.”
James blinked, then nodded bashfully. “Sorry, sir. I forgot Lily had their wands.”
Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily. “You are forgiven, James. I must say, your concern gratifies me to no end. Now, if you please, could you and Lily please go into the sitting room? I will call you if I need anything.”
James nodded and held out his hand to Lily, who took it and walked through the doorway into the sitting room. As soon as they were out of the room, Dumbledore gestured for Harry and Ginny to take their seats at the kitchen table. As they did so, he waved his wand and lit the lamps the Potters used for light, as it was now dusk. The sun had completely set, though the sky was still a dusky purple, and shadows were growing long and black.
He sat across the table from them, his long, gnarled fingers steepled, and looked at them closely. “And now, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley, how are we to begin?”
They blinked at him and then looked at each other, perplexed.
“Sir?” Harry asked tentatively.
Dumbledore smiled again. “I was merely thinking out loud, Mr. Potter.”
Mr. Potter. It sounded so strange, coming from Dumbledore, who had always called him by his first name. Then again, everything was strange. Harry was finding it hard to believe that Dumbledore was sitting in front of him, alive and very much his usual, though slightly odd, self. He shook his head to get rid of the images of the last time he saw the headmaster, or rather, his body, and focused his attention back on the living Dumbledore, who had continued speaking.
“Why don’t you start by telling me how you came here?”
Harry nodded and began relating the story of how he and Ginny had managed to go seventeen years backward in time. As he spoke, he felt an odd pressure in his skull, and images kept flickering through his mind, distracting him.
He had just turned eleven, and Hagrid was telling him he was a wizard… He saw his parents waving at him in the Mirror of Erised… He was thirteen and fighting tears as he watched his godfather fly away… He was fourteen and staring in horror as Voldemort was reborn… He was talking at the first meeting of Dumbledore’s Army… I must not tell lies,… He was surrounded by noise and cheers as he kissed Ginny in the Gryffindor common room… Neither can live while the other survives… Horcruxes… He stood in front of a gravestone covered in snow…Lily and James Potter…greater love hath no one… He stepped forward and grabbed Ginny as a bright light flashed around them… He was staring in shock into his mother’s eyes…
He broke the gaze he’d shared with Dumbledore and looked over at Ginny, who was frowning and shaking her head experimentally. Harry heard Dumbledore clear his throat, and realized with a start that he had stopped talking ages ago.
“Sorry, sir,” he said quickly. Dumbledore nodded absently, his now-troubled eyes fixed on Harry’s.
“It seems you are who you claim to be, Mr. Potter,” he said quietly. He looked at Ginny, who looked shakily back at him. “And you as well, Miss Weasley.”
Harry let out the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and smiled in relief as Dumbledore went on. “Now the question is, how to get you back? You appear to be on a mission of some importance, and you have friends who will worry about you, am I right?”
Harry nodded.
“Do you think we can use the stone circle again, sir?” Ginny asked tentatively, and Dumbledore turned to her.
“An excellent idea, Miss Weasley. However, we don’t know how stable its magic is. If that is what brought you here, and I believe it is, it is very old, much older than myself, which is saying something. Also, from what I recall, these things tended to be more powerful at certain times of the year. For example, today was the winter solstice, and that probably had something to do with why the magic was still operational, even though the circle itself is so old.”
“So… what do we do then, sir?” Ginny asked, and Dumbledore smiled wryly.
“I will have to consider that carefully, Miss Weasley. If the stone circle does not work, we will have to procure other means for your return, and that could be very difficult. I will examine the circle tomorrow, and then, well… we shall see.”
Ginny nodded, satisfied, as Dumbledore turned to Harry, his expression clouded once more.
“Mr. Potter, may I speak to you alone for a moment?”
Harry hesitated and looked at Ginny, who met his eyes and gave a tiny nod before she stood and walked into the sitting room where his parents were waiting. He turned back to Dumbledore, who was regarding him gravely, almost sadly.
“What happened to them, Harry?” Dumbledore asked quietly, and a huge lump suddenly and unexpectedly rose in Harry’s throat at the now-familiar tone in the headmaster’s voice.
“I… I don’t””
“You lost them, didn’t you?” interrupted Dumbledore. “To Voldemort.”
Harry didn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nodded. He had a sudden, overwhelming urge to tell Dumbledore everything. He could fix it; he could make everything right! Maybe he could even find a way to keep his parents from dying…
He opened his mouth, ready to tell the headmaster everything, and then closed it again. He couldn’t risk it. What if it changed something? What if Voldemort was never defeated and plunged the world into darkness because of his selfish desire for a family that loved him? No. He wouldn’t sacrifice the world for his happiness. If there was another way… but he didn’t see one.
“Do you even remember them?” Dumbledore asked gently. Harry shook his head and stared at the table in front of him.
“No.”
They were both silent, and the stillness seemed to grow in the room until it was almost palpable. Harry had the strange impression that he could reach out and touch it, like a thick velvet shroud. When he made to speak, he felt like he was tearing a hole in it, instead of simply making noise.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Harry?”
He hesitated, unsure of whether to ask the question on his mind, but plowed ahead anyway.
“Have you told anyone about the prophecy Sybil Trelawney made?”
Dumbledore blinked at him, slightly disconcerted, and then smiled tightly. “Ah yes, that prophecy. You have heard it, I suppose?”
Harry nodded, and Dumbledore continued, almost to himself, “Interesting…” He looked at Harry again shrewdly, and Harry had the sudden, uncomfortable feeling that he had just given something important away. But he had to know if they knew about it.
“Since you have apparently heard it, you know what it says. There have only been two children born in July to parents who defied Voldemort three times; young Neville Longbottom, and Harry Potter. I have not told either family the specifics of the prophecy, simply that they are in danger. I do not know which of the two boys it applies to, though now I have a feeling it applies to young Mr. Potter… am I right, Harry?” he asked, piercing Harry with one of his penetrating stares.
He was silent, and Dumbledore smiled again.
“Don’t want to risk it? It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. Although…” His gaze traveled up Harry’s face to the scar that peeked through his fringe. “I rather suspect I am correct in this matter.”
Harry nodded, and rose. “Are we done, sir?”
Dumbledore looked at him, as though pondering the question, and then nodded. “For now, Harry. I will be returning to speak to you and Miss Weasley after I inspect the stone circle tomorrow. Expect me sometime in the late evening, as I may also have to inquire at the Ministry about Time-Turners. Until then.”
He stood, stepped to the door, and opened it to reveal a small sitting room. Ginny was seated stiffly on the sofa, while Lily rocked steadily in a chair by the fire and James paced impatiently across the room. They all looked up when Dumbledore opened the door, relief evident on their faces. He motioned for all of them to re-enter the kitchen.
“I have determined that these young people are indeed telling the truth, and will be in touch with them about getting them back to their own time. However, that process will take a few days, as it is almost Christmas day, and I may have to contact the Ministry. Besides, this is a wonderful opportunity for the two of you to get to know the man that your son will become.”
James looked at Harry sharply, who flushed and unconsciously raised his hand to the back of his hair and ran it through. Lily noted the gesture, and a small smile appeared on her face. She turned back to Dumbledore and nodded.
“We’ll be happy to have them…” she began, but was almost immediately interrupted by James.
“But we’ll still be keeping their wands, just in case.”
Behind him, Ginny frowned and crossed her arms over her chest, looking mutinous, but caught Dumbledore’s eye and nodded grudgingly. Harry also showed his reluctant assent, and the headmaster smiled.
“I would not expect anything less, James. Now, if you will excuse me, it is getting late, and I am an old man who must be up early tomorrow. Good night to you all.” He bowed, walked out into the shadows, and disappeared.
He left silence behind him as the four of them stood uncomfortably in the kitchen, trying to avoid one another’s gazes. The kitchen clock ticked loudly, filling the awkward silence with an appropriately awkward noise, and then chimed the hour. Lily cleared her throat.
“Why don’t we go into the sitting room? It’s a bit more comfortable.”
The rest nodded silently and walked across the kitchen to the sitting room, where they tried to arrange themselves comfortably. Harry and Ginny sat next to each other on the sofa, while Lily took her place in the rocking chair, and James threw himself into an overstuffed chair between them.
“So, Harry,” Lily began, in an effort to make conversation. “What year did you say you are at Hogwarts?”
“Well… I’m a seventh-year. Ginny’s in her sixth.”
“And how do you like it?” she pressed, determined to draw them out. Harry glanced at Ginny.
“It’s all right, I suppose. Lots of work. N.E.W.T.s, you know.”
She smiled. “Yes, I remember that year. And James and I had Head Boy and Girl duties in addition to all of our studying! Did you make Head Boy?” she asked, then went on hastily. “It’s not a bad thing if you didn’t, I was just wondering. I mean, I was surprised James managed it!” She shared a grin with her husband.
“Biggest surprise of my life,” he announced. “Sirius wouldn’t talk to me for days, except to comment on how I’d failed him as a Marauder”” he looked abruptly at Harry. “You know about us, right? I’m sure I’ve told you loads of stories.”
Harry grinned at this. “Professor McGonagall says I’m following in your footsteps. I’ve even got the map!” He and his father shared a conspiratorial look, and then he turned back to his mother. “Sorry to disappoint though, didn’t make Head Boy. Broke too many rules. I made Quidditch Captain last year, though, so that’s something.”
The smile on James’s face was so huge Harry was half afraid it would split in two.
“Excellent! What position d’you play? I was Chaser, myself.”
“Seeker. Youngest in a century, actually. I made the team my first year.”
James looked properly impressed, and slightly smug at producing such an extraordinary Quidditch player.
Just then, there was a knock on the back door, causing them all to jump. James leapt up and ran to the kitchen, clutching his wand.
“It’s all right! It’s Sirius, with Harry!” he shouted, and the others relaxed. Lily got up and walked over to Harry and Ginny.
“Stay here,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t want Sirius to see you.”
They nodded, and she slipped into the kitchen after James.
Harry glanced over at Ginny, who gave him a wry sort of half-smile.
“Kind of makes you wish you had Fred and George’s Extendable Ears, doesn’t it?” she asked, and he chuckled softly. A moment later, Lily re-entered the room, wand in hand, and nodded towards the kitchen door.
“James is outside with Sirius,” she said quietly. “Let’s get you two on up to your room.”
They nodded and preceded her through the door and back upstairs to their room. It was full night now, and Lily lit their lamp with her wand before walking to the door. However, before leaving them for the night, she hesitated.
“Am I a good mother?” she asked abruptly, turning as she stood in the doorway. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me any of the particulars; I know you don’t want to mess with time. But… I just wanted to know…”
Harry pondered her question, unsure of how to answer. He was sure she would have been a good mother, but seeing as how she’d died for him, he honestly didn’t know. He started to squirm under her gaze.
“You’re the best mother ever,” he said finally, looking straight into her eyes. She smiled, and sighed.
“Good. I mean, well, you know… I think I’ll do okay, but… it’s nice to be reassured that I’ll do a good job.”
Harry looked at her as a lump suddenly rose in his throat. “You will. You’re the reason I am who I am. You’re the reason I’m here.”
Tears suddenly shimmered in his eyes and threatened to spill down his cheeks. He blinked rapidly and studied his shoes, trying desperately to control himself. Ginny put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, and he covered it with his own. Lily looked taken aback by his sudden emotion. She took a step towards him, questions in her eyes, but remained silent. She stared at him, and then, hesitantly, reached out and wrapped him in a warm, comforting embrace. It was all he could do to keep from bursting into sobs right there. He held himself rigidly, not daring to reciprocate the gesture, and after a moment, she dropped her arms and left the room wordlessly.
As soon as she was gone, he turned and wrapped his arms around Ginny, clinging tightly to her. She stroked his neck and back soothingly as he wept into her hair, his shoulders shaking. She held him until he quieted, and his desperate grip had loosened. He took a few deep breaths, and wiped his face roughly on his sleeve before turning abruptly and sitting on the bed.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, not looking at her. She sat next to him and covered his hand with hers.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said, reaching for him with her other hand and gently wiping at the traces of tears that were still visible. “She’s your mother, and you’ve never known her. I imagine if it was me, I’d act the same way.” She drew him into her arms. “At least you have this time with them. Just… make it count.”
He nodded wordlessly, then sighed deeply and disentangled himself from her. As much as he wanted to stay there all night, he knew he couldn’t.
“So,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “What do we do about tonight?”
Of Christmas Past by Chaser921
Chapter Notes: In case this has been confusing, I'm going to clarify a few things. The prophecy was given to Dumbledore before July of 1980. My story happens during December of 1980. The Fidellus Charm was cast on or around October 24, 1981, (according to the Lexicon) and the Potters were betrayed and killed on October 31, 1981. For the purposes of my story, I'm going to assume that when the Potters went into hiding, they cast the Fidellus Charm so that no one could find their house at Godric's Hollow and didn't actually move anywhere else. In my story, they live in Godric's Hollow and only their closest friends (i.e. Dumbledore, the Marauders, and the Longbottoms) know where they live, but they're not in true hiding yet.
In other words, thanks a ton to my fantastic beta Yemeron, who helped me polish it up into something decent. I hope it's worth the wait! The next one should be out soon, I'm finishing it now and then my beta has to look over it fo me. At any rate, enjoy!