Chapter Text
They returned to find Molly Weasley being comforted by Dumbledore, her tear-streaked face lighting up as James and Harry propped Arthur inside.
“Oh, Arthur!” Molly gasped, springing from the armchair to rush to her husband—only to freeze mid-step as her eyes widened at his injuries. “Oh, Merlin! What did they do to you?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, Mollywobbles,” Arthur reassured her with a tired smile, even as James and Harry gently lowered him into a vacant armchair. “Thank you, James, and… uh… James?”
Harry chuckled, patting Arthur’s hand. “No problem, Mr. Weasley.”
Marlene, their healer for the mission, entered the room with a small tray of potions. She leaned down, inspecting Arthur’s trembling frame. “Oh no, the Cruciatus Curse. Good thing I came prepared,” she murmured, pulling out a vial.
“The Cruciatus?” Molly gasped, clutching at her chest. “Oh, Arthur!”
“Only a few seconds, Molly. I’m fine. They saved me—”
“Harryyy!”
The sound of Harry Junior’s voice interrupted the tense moment as he barreled into the room, flinging himself at his older brother’s leg.
“Hey there, mate,” Senior greeted, laughing as he ruffled the boy’s messy black hair. “Had fun with Ron and the others?”
“Drago got stuck in a tree!” Junior exclaimed, his small face scrunching up in indignation. “Gred and Forge tied something onto his wings and said he’d fly like a real dragon! He got stuck!”
Lily, hovering near the doorway, cleared her throat, clearly trying to spare Fred and George from their mother’s wrath.
“Oh, dear me,” Molly fretted, swiping at her tear-streaked face. “Please forgive Fred and George, Harry. I’ll have a word with them.”
“It’s fine,” Senior said, grinning as he stretched out his hand. A moment later, Drago, branches and all, zoomed into his palm. Carefully picking off the leaves, he handed the small toy dragon back to his younger brother, who beamed in delight.
“Thank you! You’re the best big brother ever!” Junior proclaimed, clutching Drago to his chest.
“And I’ll be an even better one because I’m going to enchant Drago to fly for real,” Senior teased.
Junior’s green eyes sparkled with excitement. “Really?! Thank you! I’m going to hide him from Gred and Forge! Byeee! Get well soon, Mr. Weasley!”
And just like that, he was gone, sprinting out of the room with Drago in hand.
“You’re going to trip! Slow down!” Lily called after him, but she quickly turned her attention to Arthur, assisting Molly and Marlene in applying potions to his injuries.
James slumped into a seat near Dumbledore, his face troubled.
“How was the raid, Professor?” Senior asked.
Dumbledore gave a small, weary smile. “Just a minor scrape on one of our allies. No casualties on the Muggle side.”
“I hate this,” Senior murmured, his tone heavy. “After your death in my time… Voldemort didn’t hold back. We were constantly bombarded with reports of innocent victims. Every day, I woke up dreading that someone I cared about would be among the dead. It was…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
James knew exactly what Harry meant. The memory of losing Fabian and Gideon still weighed heavily on him—their bodies battered and broken after being cornered by Death Eaters. And Frank and Alice… their fates were worse than death.
“I know, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly, his voice tinged with sorrow. “But Voldemort’s paranoia is as potent as his power. Finding him is no easy task.”
“I have a plan,” Senior replied. “But it’ll only work if we push him to his most paranoid state. The more afraid he is, the weaker he becomes.”
“What do you mean?” James asked, frowning. “Won’t that just make him hide further?”
Senior shook his head. “No. Trust me. If we make him realise his Horcruxes are gone, his panic will draw him out. Professor, can you work something out with Snape to help?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled with newfound hope. “I’ll do my best. Truly, Harry, I’m grateful you’re here.” He reached out, clasping Senior’s hand in both of his. “I do not know if my other self ever said this, but…”
“Professor?” Senior asked, blinking in surprise.
“I am proud of the man you’ve become,” Dumbledore said, his voice brimming with emotion.
Harry’s lips parted, and for a moment, he was speechless. Then he nodded, his smile soft. “Thank you, Professor.”
Dumbledore’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “I daresay I’ve redeemed myself a bit by giving you the chance to meet your parents, haven’t I?”
James huffed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t push it, Dumbledore. I’m still mad at your other self.”
“Oh, come on, Dad,” Harry teased. “The Dursleys might’ve been awful, but they were the safest option, considering everything.”
“The Fidelius Charm would’ve worked just as well,” James countered.
“Dad… Dumbledore would be extremely cautious. You were betrayed, remember? Senior asked.
“Maybe,” Dumbledore interjected with a saddened smile. “Hindsight is always crueller than foresight.”
Before they could continue. A rushed footsteps entered the room once more, Harry Junior looking up at his brother, cheeks puffed adorably, pointing outside in a picture of childish annoyance.
“Yes, Harry?” James asked, glancing down at his youngest son with an amused smile.
“I have a big brother now, so you should tell Fred and George off!” Junior declared, his tiny fists clenched, his voice quivering with righteous indignation. His annoyance was so palpable that, for once, he referred to the twins by their actual names instead of their usual nicknames.
“Oh, Merlin, what did they do this time, Harry?” Molly asked, her tone already laced with exasperation as she braced herself for the answer.
“They told me Cedric can’t be my boyfriend! Yell at them, Harry!” Junior demanded, his face a portrait of earnest outrage.
Lily sighed, trying to maintain composure despite the growing hilarity of the situation. “Harry, it’s dinnertime. Your brother needs to rest.”
“No, it’s not! We still have an hour!” Junior protested with a defiant pout.
Senior raised an eyebrow and pulled out his golden watch, glancing at it briefly before letting out a small, surprised, “Huh.”
“You’re right. We do still have an hour,” Senior admitted with a chuckle.
Before anyone could stop him, Junior grabbed his older brother’s hand and began dragging him out of the room with all the determination of a general leading troops into battle. Senior managed a wave at Dumbledore as he was pulled away, his laughter echoing behind him.
Once the two Harrys disappeared, a weight seemed to settle over the room. Arthur cleared his throat, his voice hesitant as he spoke.
“Just… how close are we—I mean, Molly and I—to… your son on the other side?”
James exchanged a glance with Lily, realising she must have filled in some details. He leaned forward, his expression softening. “Real close, I’d guess. Why?”
Arthur’s hands tightened around the handkerchief he held, his gaze dropping to the fabric as if it carried the weight of everything he wanted to say. “Because if what he said is true… this is something I would only pass to my son, when Ron is an adult, too, so I can… choose who to give this to. I had planned for it,” Arthur said, his voice thick with emotion.
“And that watch… it was Fabian’s watch,” Molly added quietly. Her voice wavered, but she pressed on. “I treasure it so much that I keep it in a special place back home. If I had given it to Harry, then…” Her voice broke, and she trailed off, her tears threatening to spill again.
James nodded solemnly, but it was Lily who reached out, her voice trembling. “Thank you for taking care of Harry for us, Arthur, Molly.” Her words were heavy with gratitude, each syllable weighed down by unspoken sorrow and love.
James hesitated, his throat tightening as he prepared to speak. “Molly,” he began, his voice gentler than usual. “Your greatest fear… it’s losing your family, isn’t it?”
Molly’s breath hitched. Her eyes widened in shock as she nodded slowly. “Yes. How could you know, James?”
James looked down, his fingers brushing against the arm of the chair as he fought to steady himself. “Because Senior… because my son saw your boggart. It was of your sons lying dead on the floor, but…” He paused, swallowing hard. “You also included Harry. You see him as your own. Thank you.”
Molly’s lips trembled, and her hand flew to her mouth. Tears spilled freely now, and Arthur reached up, taking her hand in his.
“Then it makes sense, Molly,” Arthur murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Harry is a Weasley in that other world. I can only hope we’ve treated him right.”
Molly nodded, wiping her tears with trembling fingers. “Looking at how utterly attached you are to the handkerchief and you giving it to Harry, I’d say you’re correct, dear.”
Their tender moment was interrupted by a loud, triumphant, evil laugh from outside. Startled, everyone turned toward the window to see Junior standing imperiously before Fred and George, hands on his hips. The twins, for once, appeared genuinely chastened under Senior’s unimpressed glare.
“I have a big brother now too!” Junior declared proudly, his voice ringing out like a victory cry. “And he’s taller than Bill and stronger than Charlie!”
The adults inside couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, the tension in the room lifting like a dissipating storm cloud. James turned to Arthur, catching the other man’s eye, and mouthed a heartfelt, ‘Thank you.’