Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, with the faint echo of students’ footsteps resonating off the stone walls. Ara walked slowly, her mind swirling with confusion. One moment, she had been exploring the Room of Requirement, trying to escape the anxiety of being back in a school year that felt like it had no place for her. The next thing she knew, she had stumbled across a time portal, one that had thrown her into the past.

Now she was standing in a Hogwarts she didn’t recognize—younger, somehow different—but still the same. The faces around her were unfamiliar. Some students whispered as they passed by, giving her curious glances, but none of them spoke to her. They didn’t seem to know her. She felt an odd mix of fascination and anxiety as she walked down a hall that had the same musty, magical smell of Hogwarts but somehow felt half-dreamed. She didn’t belong here. She had to find a way back—somehow.

“Lost?” Ara froze. A voice called out to her, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned to see a girl standing there, her fiery red hair pulled into a neat ponytail. Her eyes—green like hers—watched her with a gentle curiosity. Ara’s heart skipped a beat. There was something disorienting about this moment, something that made her feel slightly breathless.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the girl continued, her voice warm, teasing, but kind. Ara blinked, forcing her mind to focus. There was no way. It couldn’t be.

“I’m fine,” Ara said, her voice coming out more curt than she intended. She turned to walk past the girl, but she felt a hand on her arm, gentle but firm.

“Really?” the girl said, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t look fine.” Ara's eyes flickered down to the hand on her arm, and then up to the girl's face again. Those green eyes were watching her closely, filled with a quiet understanding. For a moment, the world felt still, and Ara’s mind raced. She knew she had seen those eyes before.
They were her eyes.

But they couldn’t be. She shook her head, trying to steady herself.

“I—I’m fine, really,” Ara repeated, her voice less certain this time. She took a step back, but the girl didn’t let go.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said, her tone warm, even friendly. "You don’t look like you belong here, and I’d know if you were new. What's your name?"

Lily Evans. Ara's mind seized. Lily Evans, of course. Her mother—or at least the person who would eventually be her mother in the future. Her stomach flipped. Her mother’s name had never meant much
to her before. She had always been an enigma in Ara’s life—a name she had heard spoken with hushed tones, a face she had only seen in old photographs from the Potters’ home. But now, seeing Lily Evans in front of her—young, vibrant, and alive—everything clicked. The shock of recognition hit her like a wave, making her dizzy.

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice was full of concern now, and her hand slid from Ara’s arm to her shoulder in a gentle gesture of comfort. Lily Evans was standing in front of her. Lily Evans, with green eyes that stared at her like they had always known her. She looked just as beautiful as Ara had always imagined from the stories—the same bright eyes, the same radiant smile. But it wasn’t just her beauty that caused the sinking feeling in Ara’s stomach. It was the eyes. In the quiet that stretched between them,

Ara finally whispered,

“Your eyes... they’re—"

“Green?” Lily finished for her with a smile, her voice playful. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

But to Ara, those eyes weren’t just green. They were hers. They were the same eyes she saw every day when she looked into a mirror, but she couldn’t reconcile the fact that Lily Evans—this girl—was her mother, or would one day be.

“I know you’re trying to figure me out,” Lily said, her voice lighter now. “I get that a lot. People don’t always know what to make of me.” Ara’s heart was pounding, and she took a step back, needing space to think, to breathe. Her mind was on fire with confusion.

“Actually, you don’t seem so lost to me,” Lily added, grinning. “You have that look on your face like you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Ara swallowed hard. She could feel her heart in her throat as she tried to form a coherent sentence. This was Lily Evans. Her mother. But how? Why? She couldn’t be here—alive, not this young. But there she was, standing before her, as alive and vibrant as ever, completely unaware of the strange connection between them.

"I'm just... trying to adjust," Ara muttered, trying to keep her voice steady. She had to figure this out. She had to get away from here—away from Lily, who, despite her warmth, was starting to make Ara’s emotions feel like a tangled knot in her chest.

Lily, ever perceptive, gave her a sympathetic look. “It’s not easy, is it? Getting used to this school. Getting used to... everything. But hey,” she added, with a slight grin, “if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

For a second, Ara felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought. But the truth settled uneasily in her stomach—the truth that was impossible to ignore. This was Lily Evans, the mother she never knew, the woman she had only ever heard about in whispers and stories. And somehow, against all logic, she was here—alive—and Ara was standing in front of her, with no way to explain the full truth.

Somehow, in the midst of the shock, Ara felt the overwhelming urge to protect this moment—to protect Lily from the truth that was pressing down on her like an unbearable weight.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ara said, her voice quieter, as she gave Lily a small smile. But inside, her thoughts were anything but calm. She had to get answers. She needed to know how she had gotten here—and why.

Because if Lily Evans was here, and James... was he somewhere nearby, too? There was so much she
didn’t know. And in this strange, twisted world, where time felt broken and confused, Ara didn’t know if she was ready to face it all.

Chapter Text

The Great Hall buzzed with morning chatter — the clinking of cutlery, the low hum of laughter, the occasional shriek of an owl swooping overhead. To everyone else, it was just another morning at Hogwarts.

To Ara Potter, it felt like walking through someone else’s memory.
She kept her head down as she slipped into a seat at the very end of the Gryffindor table. Toast. Jam.
Coffee — strong. She needed to look busy, invisible even. The last thing she needed was attention in a school full of people who didn’t know her name but somehow all looked a little too familiar.

She tore into her toast, pretending not to notice the cluster of curious eyes from down the table. A few whispers drifted her way.

“Who’s that?”

“Transfer student, maybe?”

“She looks like—”

Ara rolled her eyes. Great. Day one and she was already gossip fodder.

Across the hall, the doors burst open.

The Marauders entered like they owned the place. Which, judging by the way every head turned, they kind of did.

Sirius Black led the charge — tall, all careless swagger and easy confidence, grey eyes glinting beneath dark lashes. James Potter followed with his usual grin, Remus Lupin in tow looking amused, and Peter Pettigrew scurrying to keep up.
They were loud. They were dramatic. And they were heading right toward her.

Ara muttered under her breath, “Of course they are.”

Lily Evans, sitting a few seats away, noticed Ara’s discomfort and gave her a sympathetic smile. “They’re harmless. Mostly.”

“Harmless?” Ara echoed. “They look like trouble that just discovered legs.”

Lily stifled a laugh but didn’t disagree.

The boys reached the table, and James was mid-rant about Quidditch when he finally noticed her. His voice trailed off. “Er — hello. Don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

Ara looked up slowly, her expression carefully neutral. “That’s probably because you haven’t.”

James blinked, thrown off by the curt tone. “Right. New student, then?”

“Something like that.”

Sirius leaned forward, elbows on the table, grin lazy and confident. “Something like that?” he repeated,
voice smooth like melted chocolate. “That sounds mysterious.”

Ara met his gaze, unimpressed. “And you sound like trouble.”

Lupin snorted quietly, while Peter nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

Sirius’s smirk deepened. “You wound me, sweetheart. I’m completely harmless.”

Ara’s eyebrow arched. “You don’t look harmless. You look like you’ve been caught sneaking out after
curfew more times than you can count.”

James burst out laughing. “She’s got you there, mate!”

Sirius pressed a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “You wound me again! I’ve been nothing but charming.”

“Charming?” Ara repeated, sipping her coffee. “That’s one word for it. I was going to say ‘unbearable.’”

Lily covered her grin with her hand. Remus looked like he was enjoying this far too much.

Sirius leaned back in his seat, eyes never leaving hers. “So, you’ve heard of me then?”

“Unfortunately,” Ara replied smoothly. “You’re kind of hard to miss. Loud, dramatic, thinks the world revolves around him. Ring any bells?”

James nearly spat out his drink laughing. “Oh, she’s brilliant! Sirius, you’ve finally met your match.”

Sirius smirked, but there was a flicker in his eyes — interest, challenge. “Careful, love. Keep talking like that and I might think you like me.”

Ara didn’t blink. “Keep talking like that, and I might start rooting for gravity.”

The entire section of the table went silent for a heartbeat before laughter erupted — loud, genuine, unstoppable. Even Lily had tears in her eyes from laughing.

Sirius, for once, was speechless.

Remus leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “I think you’ve actually stunned him. That’s impressive. Doesn’t happen often.”

Ara shrugged, standing up and collecting her bag. “Maybe he should talk less, then.”

Before Sirius could recover, she slung the strap over her shoulder and nodded to Lily. “Thanks for the chat, Evans.”

Lily smiled. “You’ll sit with us again tomorrow, right?”

Ara paused. “We’ll see.”

And then she was gone — leaving behind a table full of stunned Marauders and one particularly disoriented Sirius Black, whose grin had turned into something more dangerous: curiosity.

James elbowed him, grinning. “You’re staring, mate.”

Sirius blinked, finally dragging his gaze away from the door Ara had disappeared through. “Yeah,” he said quietly, still smirking to himself. “I know.”

Remus chuckled. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Sirius’s grin widened, lazy and wolfish. “Warn me about what?”

“That girl,” Remus said. “She’s not one of your usual admirers. She’s going to make you work for it.”

Sirius’s grey eyes flickered toward the empty seat she’d left behind. “Good,” he murmured. “I like a challenge.”

Chapter Text

Ara walked briskly through the stone corridors, textbook clutched to her chest, trying her best to avoid eye contact with any passing student. She wasn’t exactly invisible, but she was close—and she liked it that way.

“Wait up!”

Ara froze, recognizing the voice before she saw the girl. Sure enough, Lily Evans came jogging around the corner, hair bouncing in a neat ponytail, green eyes alight with purpose.

“You just cannot walk through Hogwarts like that,” Lily said, slowing down beside her. “Especially not with themaround.”

Ara raised an eyebrow. “Do enlighten me.”

“You don’t really know who you’re dealing with,” Lily said, matching Ara’s stride. “The boys from this morning? The Marauders? Yeah. You need the full rundown.”

Ara smirked. “I already have a rough idea. Loud, obnoxious, thinks they own the school. The usual Hogwarts menace.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “That’s putting it mildly. Sirius Black—grey eyes, hair like a midnight mess, smirk permanently attached—he’s charming, dangerous, and a certified playboy. He flirts with everyone and doesn’t care who notices. He’s… well, you’ll see.”

Ara tilted her head, intrigued despite herself. “And James?”

“James Potter?” Lily groaned, almost theatrically. “He’s… insufferable. Always joking, always grinning, always thinking he’s irresistible. He’s been flirting with me since first year. I hate it. Avoid him. Or at least… avoid eye contact.”

Ara snorted softly. “Avoid eye contact. Got it. And Remus?”

“Mostly harmless,” Lily said with a shrug, a faint grin tugging at her lips. “Peter… forget him. Just Peter.”

Ara smirked. “So, in short: charming disaster, self-obsessed grinning disaster, mostly harmless disaster, and… Peter. Excellent.”

“You’ll need more than that if you want to survive,” Lily said, giving her a meaningful look. “And just… trust me. Sirius is not someone you underestimate. He doesn’t let go of things he wants.”

Ara felt her pulse flicker—annoying, she noted, because she did not intend to care. “Noted,” she said, voice perfectly neutral. “Now, if we’re done with the cautionary tales, I’d like to make it to class without having to dodge a smirk or a prank.”

“You wish,” Lily said with a sly grin. “But hey, at least I’m saving you a seat.”

The classroom smelled faintly of parchment, chalk, and a lingering magical tang. Ara slipped into a seat near the back, letting Lily slide in beside her. She tried to ignore the low rumble of students talking and the occasional crashing sound from the Marauders’ table.

Sirius Black, of course, was already there, lounging as if he owned the entire room. Grey eyes flicked toward her the moment she settled. Ara didn’t flinch; she met his gaze with the calmest, most neutral expression she could manage.

“Morning, love,” he drawled, leaning slightly toward her desk, smirk perfectly in place. “Sleep well?”

Ara didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence stretch just long enough to annoy him. “Did you get dressed today, Black, or was this look spontaneous?” she finally asked, voice flat.

Sirius blinked, smirk flickering into something sharper, amused. “Careful. I might take that as flirting.”

Ara rolled her eyes. “Keep dreaming.”

James, sitting nearby, snorted and elbowed Sirius, smirking like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. “Oh, mate. Finally met your match, huh?”

Sirius’s eyes didn’t leave Ara. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just… tolerable.”

Ara raised an eyebrow. “Tolerable? Bold of you to assume you matter in this equation.”

Before Sirius could retort, the classroom door swung open. “QUIET!”

Ara and the Marauders alike froze. Professor Minerva McGonagall was there, robes perfectly pressed, hair in a severe bun, eyes sharp enough to pierce through stone.

“This is Transfiguration, not a playground,” she said, voice low but sharp. “I do not tolerate laziness, disruption, or—Mr. Black—petty theatrics.”

Sirius smirked, trying to hold her gaze in a challenge. Ara suppressed a grin—finally, someone could scare him straight.

McGonagall continued, voice slicing through the room. “Today, you will practice transforming small objects into other objects. Precision, focus, and intent are required. I will not accept excuses. I will not accept failure born of carelessness. And yes,”—she fixed Sirius with a gaze that could shatter glass—“that includes you.”

Sirius straightened, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Ara almost laughed. She could practically feel his smirk wobble for a heartbeat under the weight of McGonagall’s stare.

Ara focused on her exercise, turning a pebble into a tiny goblet with smooth precision. She felt a thrill of satisfaction.

“You’re surprisingly competent,” Sirius said quietly, leaning slightly closer. “I expected a little disaster.”

“I prefer not to disappoint,” Ara replied calmly, eyes still on her work.

McGonagall turned her sharp gaze on him. “Mr. Black, I hope your attention has shifted from theatrics to actual transfiguration. One more disruption and I assure you it will not be pleasant.”

Even Sirius, master of drama, seemed to flinch under her glare. Ara couldn’t help but grin internally.

“You’re terrifying,” she whispered to Lily, who was watching from the next desk over.

“I told you,” Lily said softly, smirking. “And yes, they all deserve it.”

Sirius’s grey eyes flicked back to her, sharper than ever. Ara felt that flutter—annoying, frustrating, undeniable. Perfect.

Chapter Text

Ara potter but imagine with lily’s eyes

Lily Evans

Sirius and regulus

James potter

Remus lupin

Peter I can’t find him not important

the rest just imagine because my brain hurts. It took me most of the day to find out how to add photos so you are welcome. I will make a song playlist 

bye

Chapter Text

After class, Ara hurried to the library, her mind swirling with thoughts as she sank into a couch and tried to process the memories of the last two days.

She'd never seen her parents like this—alive and whole. James Potter wasn't just a name in a history book but a boy with messy hair and too-bright grins, tossing dungbombs in the corridors.
And Lily... Merlin, Lily with her fierce kindness and prefect badge, already scolding James with that familiar exasperation Ara had only ever imagined. They were *happy*. Untouched by war or betrayal or graves dug too soon. It made her chest ache

.

Ara slumped deeper into the library couch, the worn velvet scratching her neck. She’d known intellectually that she’d traveled back, but seeing her parents alive—not martyrs or ghosts, but *real*—felt like a punch to the ribs. James Potter had winked at Lily Evans minutes ago, knocking over ink bottles with careless charm, and Lily had rolled her eyes with that exasperated affection Ara recognized from faded photos. It was jarring. Unreal. They weren’t weary warriors yet—just teenagers, laughing.

Across the room, Sirius Black leaned against a bookshelf, arguing quietly with Remus over a Charms essay. Remus’s eyes crinkled with mischief as he shoved Sirius’s shoulder. No hollow cheeks, no Azkaban shadows. Sirius’s grin was blinding, effortless—not the haunted smirk of a man who’d clawed his way out of hell. Peter Pettigrew scurried past, dropping parchment everywhere, and James yelled, "Watch it, Wormy!" Peter flushed, scrambling to pick it up—just a clumsy boy, not a traitor. Ara’s throat tightened. This was the rot before it set in—the innocence ripped away later

.

Ara pressed her palms against her temples, the library’s musty scent sharpening as she inhaled. Dead. Her mother—*Lily*—would be murdered in just a few years. James too. Peter would betray them. Remus would lose everyone. And Sirius… gods, Sirius would spend twelve years in Azkaban, broken and screaming into silence. Yet here they were: Lily flipping a page with ink-smudged fingers, James lobbing crumpled parchment at Sirius’s head, Remus frowning over a textbook like it held the secrets of the universe. Alive. Whole. Oblivious.

She traced the spine of a dusty Divination tome, throat raw. How could she tell Lily? *Your best friends won’t survive the war. Marlene McKinnon—burned alive in her own flat. Dorcas Meadowes—tortured until her mind shattered. And Alice… sweet, fierce Alice…* The thought choked her. Alice Longbottom, Neville’s mother, driven insane by Bellatrix Lestrange’s Cruciatus Curse. A living ghost trapped in St. Mungo’s. All of them—gone or hollowed out before their time. Lily’s laughter echoed from the study table, bright and untroubled. Ara’s knuckles whitened. *You have no idea what’s coming for them. For you

.*

The library's scent of parchment and dust pressed in on Ara as she leaned back into the worn couch cushions. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to replay those chaotic moments just after stumbling out of the time portal—how she met Lily and ran to the headmaster’s office. The headmaster hadn't even flinched, merely setting aside a lemon drop with that unnerving calm. "Interesting," he'd murmured, peering over half-moon spectacles as she spilled everything—Ara Potter, Voldemort, the future where all these laughing boys became ghosts or traitors.

His silence had been heavy, thoughtful, before he finally said, "We will discuss paths later, Miss Potter. For now, you are Azalea Potter, distant cousin from the Greek Potters." The lie settled like cold stones in her stomach. Parents dead in a dragon-poaching accident (how terribly *convenient*), guardianship transferred to Charlus and Dorea Potter—James's own grandparents, long gone in her timeline but alive here. "I shall notify them... and the faculty," Dumbledore had added, sliding a list of Gryffindor seventh-years across the desk. Names she knew too well from Hagrid's album: Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, Evans. The ones she saw in her ablum. Her parents. Her parents’ friends. Her godfather. Before everything went to shit.

."

Dumbledore’s fingers tapped lightly against the polished surface of his desk, the faint *tap-tap-tap* echoing in the sudden stillness of the office. "A most curious predicament, Miss Potter," he murmured, his eyes holding hers with unnerving focus. "To have arrived through such… unconventional means." He paused, plucking a lemon drop from a crystal dish. "We must ensure your seamless integration here. I shall notify all Hogwarts faculty immediately—a transfer student, Azalea Potter, joining Gryffindor’s fourth year. And," he added, his voice softening almost imperceptibly, "I will dispatch an owl to Charlus and Dorea at once. They reside in Peverall Manor currently. Expect them by week’s end."

The lie tasted like ashes on Ara’s tongue—a fabricated tragedy, parents lost to dragon poachers. Conveniently untraceable. Distant Greek cousins? The Potter tapestry was vast, tangled enough to swallow such threads. Yet the cold weight of it settled deeper, twisting something raw inside her. Distant. Unwanted. An echo of Privet Drive’s hollow ache.

Ara hunched deeper into the library’s worn couch, the smell of dust and ink thick in the air. She watched them through the gaps in towering bookshelves: Sirius Black sprawled arrogantly on a tabletop, Regulus Black flipping pages stiffly nearby, Remus Lupin’s brow furrowed over a complex Arithmancy diagram, Peter Pettigrew nervously nibbling a sugar quill. Innocence radiated off them—bright, oblivious smiles, untouched by the horrors she knew stalked them. Sirius’s loud bark of laughter echoed, sharp and carefree, a sound ripped from a future where bars replaced sunlight. Her chest tightened, a vise squeezing her lungs. How could they breathe so easily? Didn’t they feel the shadow already stretching toward Hogwarts’ enchanted ceilings?

.

Ara jerked back, nearly sending her Transfiguration notes flying. Lily Evans stood there, a chipped ceramic mug steaming softly on the scarred tabletop. Chamomile. The scent unfurled, floral and sharp, cutting through the dust.

"Join us?" Lily gestured toward her usual spot near the library’s enchanted windows, where sunlight spilled onto Gryffindor-red velvet cushions. Marlene McKinnon lounged there, polishing her nails with a shimmering charm, Dorcas Meadowes flipping through a Potions journal with intense focus. Lily’s smile was easy. "We bite less than the Marauders. Mostly

.

Chapter Text

Ara shifted in the cushions, settling beside Lily. Marlene and Dorcas were quietly bickering across the couch when a voice cut through the warm hum of the library.

“Mind if we join?”

Ara looked up — and the air in her lungs stopped, just for a second.

Sirius, James, Remus, Peter.

Alive. Whole. Laughing, breathing, unbroken.

It hit her like a bruise pressed too hard.

She schooled her face before anyone noticed, but the ache settled deep. She had seen their names etched on gravestones, in books stained by war. She had grown up on stories of what they became —

heroes, traitors, martyrs, ghosts.

Seeing them like this felt almost cruel.

Sirius leaned against a bookshelf with lazy confidence, James practically vibrating with energy, Remus wearing that tired, gentle smile, and Peter clutching his scrolls with nervous hands. All so painfully young.

Lily raised an eyebrow. “They’re not subtle.”

“No,” Ara murmured, blinking the sting from her eyes. “They’re really not.”

Sirius gave a loose, theatrical bow. “Sirius Black.”

Ara nodded, voice steady despite the lump forming in her chest. “I know.”

He smirked, ready to launch into some charming line, and it struck her — this boy would one day rot in a prison he never belonged in. This boy would die alone.

Her smile came out thinner than she meant it to.

“And,” Sirius continued, “I assume you’ve heard of my dazzling charm.”

“Something like that,” Ara managed.

James stepped forward next. “James Potter. I’m the loud one. You’ll get used to me.”
She nearly flinched. here was the man who wouldn’t live to see his child grow up. Trouble incarnate, with a grin too bright for the future he was walking toward.

“I can tell,” Ara said softly.

Remus approached with calm politeness. “Remus Lupin. It’s good to meet you.”
Remus, who would lose everything. Who would rebuild, and lose again.

“Hi,” she said, but the word felt heavy.

Peter edged forward, nervous and earnest. “Peter Pettigrew. Hello.”
Peter, whose fear would twist into betrayal. Whose choice would shatter all of them.

“Hi, Peter,” Ara replied gently. Too gently. He looked surprised by the kindness, and she looked away.

Alice leaned over. “They mean well. Mostly.”

Ara swallowed. If only they knew.

Marlene chimed in from the couch. “Especially when Sirius isn’t trying to set something on fire.”

Sirius scoffed. “I’ve stopped doing that.”

Ara raised an eyebrow, her voice quieter now, steadier. “You look like trouble waiting for an opportunity.”

He grinned, but there was a flicker in his eyes — curiosity at the strange, measured way she spoke.

James laughed. “She’s got you.”

Ara watched Sirius and felt something twist inside her. She did not let it show.

Remus chuckled. “You’ve stunned him. That’s rare.”

“I’m fine,” Sirius protested, though his grin had softened. “Just… listening.”

That almost hurt more — the sincerity, the warmth he didn’t yet know would be beaten out of him.

Lily nudged Ara with a small smile. “See? You’re fitting in already.”

Ara let her gaze drift over them — James stacking his books, Sirius pretending he hadn’t been thrown
off, Remus quietly observant, Peter relieved to be acknowledged.

All of them unaware.

All of them standing on the edge of futures she couldn’t bear to think about.

Alice watched her with gentle amusement. “You’ll do fine here.”

Ara forced a breath, nodding. “I hope so.”

But deep inside, as the sunlight warmed the library and the boys settled in around them, a truth pulsed painfully:

She had come to know legends.
She had met their ghosts long before their living selves.
And now she would have to learn how to look at them without breaking.

Chapter Text

The library door swung shut behind them, muffling the faint clatter of students in the corridors. Ara walked beside Lily, her arms crossed loosely, while Marlene, Dorcas, and Alice lingered behind, whispering quietly about homework and house points.

James trailed close, unusually silent for him. His eyes kept flicking toward Ara, and for the first time, she noticed a sharpness in his gaze—a calculation that didn’t belong to the carefree, laughing boy she’d met earlier.

“Wait a second,” James said suddenly, stopping mid-step. The others skidded slightly to avoid bumping into him. “Ara… you’re my cousin, aren’t you?”

Ara blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a Potter. Greek branch, distant cousins—that makes sense now. Mom and Dad mentioned this once, back when—well, it all clicks.” He ran a hand through his messy hair, pacing a small circle. “You’re family.”

Ara tilted her head, trying to keep her expression neutral. “I’ve always been one.”

James’s eyes softened, but his posture stiffened. “Yeah, but… now I actually see it. The resemblance. The way you carry yourself, that stubborn set of your jaw. You’re a Potter. And that means I can’t just… not worry about you.”

Sirius, who had been leaning casually against the wall a few steps back, raised an eyebrow. “Congratulations. You’ve officially gone full family mode.”

James ignored him. He stepped closer to Ara, lowering his voice. “I don’t care how polite or capable you are—you do not go wandering around this castle thinking you’re alone. You’ve got me. And Mom and Dad. Always.”

Lily, walking beside Ara, raised an eyebrow. “James, you’re scaring her.”

“I’m serious,” James said, still pacing. “Anything happens—anything at all—you come straight to me. Not just Mom and Dad. Me. Got it?”

“I understand,” Ara said quietly, though her stomach twisted. She wasn’t used to being treated like this—not quite a child, not quite a charge. But James’s gaze, sharp and unwavering, left little room to argue.

“You’re not just a cousin,” he added, voice lowering, almost fiercely. “You’re family. And I don’t let family get hurt. Not here. Not ever.”

Sirius stepped closer, smirking. “Someone’s intense.”

James’s glare sliced right through the air. “Don’t you dare mock me, Pads.”

Ara exhaled softly, letting some tension slip away. “I’m not in danger, James.”

“I know,” he said quickly, still scanning the corridor like he was expecting trouble to appear from the shadows. “But you’ve got to understand. Potter blood means you’re automatically a target in this place—well, maybe not now, but later. And you’re my cousin.”

Alice leaned over from behind them, smirking. “Someone’s been reading too many heroic family novels.”

Dorcas added, whispering to Marlene, “Or he’s just terrified he has to babysit a Potter.”

Marlene snorted. “Either way, this is going to be entertaining.”

Ara shot a small smile at the girls, but it faded when James turned to her again, expression softening slightly but still intense. “Mom and Dad already know you’re here. You’ve met them, yes?”

“Yes,” Ara said. “Dumbledore introduced me.”

James nodded, satisfied. “Good. Because if anything happens—any problem with school, with anyone—I’ll hear about it first. You don’t deal with it alone. You tell Mom or Dad if you need, but then you come to me.”

Ara bit her lip to hide the smile creeping onto her face. This was so typically James—blunt, loud, overbearing, and yet… undeniably sincere. She had expected him to flirt or tease, or to treat her like some mysterious stranger. Instead, he was protective, awkwardly trying to make sure she knew she belonged.

Sirius, meanwhile, was quietly observing everything, leaning against the wall with his usual relaxed posture, but there was a flicker in his grey eyes—interest, curiosity, something sharper than amusement. “So,” he said lightly, “your cousin just went full guardian mode, huh?”

James whipped around. “Shut it, Pads.”

“Fair,” Sirius said, raising his hands. “I’ll behave… for now.”

Ara shook her head, letting out a soft laugh she hadn’t realized she was holding back. “I’m not a child, James. You can relax a little.”

“Not relaxing,” he said immediately. “Not until I know you’re safe. That’s the rule.”

Lily rolled her eyes, though her tone was gentle. “He’s not letting this go, Ara. He means it. Full-on overprotective cousin mode.”

“And I like it,” Marlene added, grinning. “This will be entertaining.”

“You have no idea,” Dorcas muttered.

Ara’s chest tightened slightly, but the warmth of it—family, protection, someone who actually cared—was undeniable. For the first time since stepping into this strange timeline, she felt a small sense of grounding amidst all the chaos of knowing the future.

James finally took a step back, but his eyes never left her. He tilted his head, as if calculating every possibility of danger and making mental notes for each. “Good. You know you’ve got Mom and Dad here, right? Charlus and Dorea. If anyone gives you trouble, they’re your first stop—but I’m second. Got it?”

Ara gave a small nod. “Got it.”

“Good.” He let out a sharp breath, like a warning, and then glanced around at the group. “And if anyone even thinks about messing with my cousin—well, we’ll see who they tell first.”

Sirius smirked again, watching the interaction like it was a chess game. “Interesting development,” he murmured.

James shot him a pointed look. “You’re on notice, Pads.”

Ara couldn’t stop herself from laughing quietly this time. “This is… a lot.”

James shrugged, still alert, still protective. “Family is a lot. But worth it.”

And as they continued walking toward the Gryffindor common room, Ara realized something: being a Potter here wasn’t just complicated. It was dangerous, yes, but it also came with allies she could count on—awkward, overbearing, intensely loyal allies who would guard her fiercely, whether she wanted it or not.

And James—her cousin—was already proving he would do exactly that.