Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Previously…

Harry woke up again. He was confused, before last night came springing back to him. His dad. Harry put his glasses back on before rushing back downstairs. Once he saw James, a sense of peace rushed over him. This was real. Death had given Harry life, ironically, by giving him Death.

“Hey, there, Kiddo. Feeling better today?” James asked, looking back from the breakfast he was making. “Yeah… I do. Thank you.” Harry said with a smile, sitting on one of the barstools. James chuckled lightly.

His boy seemed like a completely different person. Before, Harry had become distant, and slightly snappy, no doubt the effects of Teenage hormones- but since last night, he was like a little boy again, needing nothing but his father. James didn't mind it. He was glad to have his sweet son back.

“Hey, Mate.” A familiar voice said, coming from behind him. “Ron?” Harry asked confused. “Yeah?” Ron asked, jokingly matching the tone. Ron sat on the seat next to Harry. “What are you doing here?” Harry asked, leaning closer. Ron laughed. “Did you forget mate? Have another dream where you wake up forgetting classes? I’m staying here while my family is visiting Charlie and Bill in Romania.”

Harry sighed in relief. “Yeah- no, I didn't forget. Sorry. Fuzzy mind today.” Ron nodded. “Um-.. How is everyone?” Ron gave Harry a puzzled look. “Alright, I guess. Fred and George have that new pranking kit I told you about, no doubt from their ‘secret sponsor’. Ginny is still always rambling on about you, and Percy is still adjusting to his new job.”

“And ‘Mione?” Harry asked, hoping they were still friends. “Vacation with her parents. Jeez, you really are fuzzy-minded today.” Harry laughed slightly. It was a laugh of relief. “The favorite Uncle is here!” A voice announced from the door.

Harry looked over, smile brightening as he saw Sirius, an annoyed Remus trailing behind him. “Favorite? I think you mean worst.” Remus quipped.

Harry stood up, rushing over and giving Sirius a large, hard hug. Sirius seemed taken aback at first, but then returned the hug. “It’s good to see you.” Harry said, sighing. Sirius shot a confused look to James, who just shrugged. Harry had been distant towards Sirus as of recently, but now, here he was, like nothing happened.
“Does this mean we’re okay, Bambi?” Sirius asked hesitantly. “Huh?” Harry asked, pulling back slightly. “Yeah. Yeah. We’re great, Pads.” Sirius smiled. “I knew you’d come along.” He said, ruffling Harry’s hair. Bambi was funny. Like a mini deer, the son of James. Harry loved it.

“Hi, Moony.” Harry said, giving Remus a hug next. “My favorite nephew.” Remus said with a smile, hugging Harry back. Growing up with them, he must have been so much closer.

Harry watched as Sirius and Remus went over to James and Ron. Harry looked in admiration. All of his favorite people, in the same room. How could he get so lucky?
Watching them all so bright, smiling and conversing like family. Harry couldn't imagine a reality better than this one. Nothing could be better. “Come here, kiddo, help me set the table.” James called out.

Now…

Approximately 18 hours ago, Harry left his life as a poor neglected abused child, and entered a new life as a rich, extremely loved child. He lay in bed, staring at his new ceiling, not exactly feeling homesick, but feeling off. Today had been an emotional whirlwind, what with meeting his father, and meeting all these new versions of his family and friends. They were the same people, but they just weren’t. Everyone forgot every bad thing that happened to Harry besides his mum dying, one thing that Death didn’t change. It was like they looked at him and saw someone else.

Perhaps they did, perhaps he was a horrible git for leading all of these people to believe he was someone else, someone that didn’t fight a dark lord, someone that wasn’t neglected and abused, someone that wasn't terrified.

A quiet knock sounded on his door. “Yea?” He called out. The door creaked open to fit Ron’s head. “Hey, mate,” A small smile crossed his face before it disappeared. “Listen, uh, your dad is worried. Bloody hell, I'm worried about you too.” Ron entered the room and crossed it to sit on the edge of Harry’s bed. “You’ve been acting downright insane all day. You’re not like yourself.” Worry etched, nearly cradled his features. “Is it bad?” Harry couldn’t look in his eyes anymore. “Is what bad?” — “The difference, Ron, you said I was different, so… is it bad?” Ron sighed.

“No, mate, actually I'd say you’ve rather improved. I know your family looked relieved.” — “Relieved?”
Harry looked back up at Ron. “Yeah, well, don’t get mad at me, but recently you’ve been… a bit of a git.” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, as he subconsciously leaned closer. “I’ve been a git? What’ve I been doing?” Ron looked about as confused as confused could be. “Did you hit your head or something? Honestly, did you?” Ron’s words struck an idea. How else could he explain how he doesn’t remember the past they remember? Well, he could tell Ron the truth, he could tell Ron about the last two unbearable weeks, or however long it had been. But would Ron believe him? Magic was one thing, transforming a stool into a rat, okay, but a time loop caused by death to relive having different fathers? Bonkers, it would send him right to the loony bin, not to mention the pressure of the secret.

“I did- uh- I.. hit my head?” Silence stretched for a few beats. “Well why are you saying it like a question? And why didn’t you bloody say anything? You drive me up the wall, mate…” Ron reached forward to feel his head, to which Harry scuttled back. He didn’t have a bump, only a bump could explain that degree of memory loss. He would have to clog himself wouldn’t he? “Listen, just, I need five minutes.” Ron narrowed his eyes. “Five, no more.” He reluctantly stood and left the room, not before sending one last worried glance at Harry and shutting the door. Harry used the chance to stand and pace the floor of his room. Death got him here, but like usual, he was all on his own with this one. He had so many questions, like for starters, if his mum was dead and father alive, where was Voldemort? Where were the death eaters? Lucius, Barty, Draco, Bellatrix? What of Snape? He must hate him twice as much in this world.

Harry couldn’t do this alone. He needed help, guidance, he was only 15 years old and all this lying was so hard. His first thought was Hermione, she was smarter than anyone and always had his back, but Hermione was a kid too, and like Ron, they might not be able to handle the all consuming knowledge of the Death. He needed an adult, which also crossed off Fred and George. He thought about Remus and Sirius, but in this world, they were too close to his dad, they’d tell him. If James found out, what if he disowned Harry? What if he said he was someone else? It was too horrible to imagine.

Molly, Arthur, and McGonagall were options, but they wouldn’t believe him, and would probably tell James he had a mental breakdown.
Snape. That would be too many shades of bizarre, wouldn’t it? He would be more likely to believe Harry, but more likely to send him to a hospital out of spite. However, if anyone knew anything about the whereabouts of Voldemort… Barty Crouch Jr. He was crazy, crazy enough to believe this story, he knew where Voldemort was, and in the time loop he was much too fast to accept his fate as his father. But then again, how in the hell would he get in contact? Harry started to look around the room, where he discovered a detail he could not believe he had been so blind as to miss. “Hedwig!” Harry whispered. He opened the cage, giving his girl several soft pets. “How could I miss you?” Harry shook his head at himself. “Alright. I need you for something really important. This cannot get into the wrong hands. Understand, girl?” Hedwig let out a soft hoot, and Harry got to writing.

Barty Crouch Jr.,
I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Harry Potter, though I suppose you probably haven’t heard this name much. The following words will require a great lot of you, because I am asking you to believe in the impossible. I am asking you to believe in the life of Death.
Over the past few weeks, I have learned that evil does not look like a man. Evil is a virus, and like most viruses, it can be cured. I won’t claim it can be removed entirely, but I do claim to know that it isn’t set in stone. I believe this is the case for you.

Although you do not remember, you showed me a part of yourself I didn’t process before, something good. That goodness is what gives me the confidence to write this.

I know things, indescribable, extraordinary things. Things I before did deem impossible. I have the feeling a man like you understands the fear of being seen as crazy, simply because another won’t open their mind. I know things that change the game, because I am a timeline jumper.

If you are interested, write me back, but please, do not harm the Owl. Thank you.

Sincerely,
H. Potter

Harry then sealed the letter and attached it to Hedwig’s foot and let her fly away. He heard the door open, and Ron came in again. Harry completely forgot that somehow he had to convince everyone in the house he had memory loss. Oh boy. “I’m just gonna go to bed, Ron, I’m tuckered-“ — “Mate, mate, you said you hit your head, you shouldn’t sleep, could have a concussion!” Ron walked over to the bed again, sitting closer. “I must’ve- I mean.. I did fall in the shower… Stay here, let me grab something..” Harry stuttered out.

He rushed to the bathroom and locked the door, fumbling with the door handle as he did. He stood and stared in the mirror, which made him realize he had yet too. Harry’s eyes widened. His hands instantly moved his fringe, which was at his neck in wild curls, to check for the scar, which was surprisingly still there. Perhaps his looks just didn’t change. He couldn’t use magic for this because it was not permitted outside Hogwarts, so the only possible solution was to make the bump, and make it real. “I’m not doing this.” He took several deep breaths, “Okay, this is crazy,” Before Harry could make up his mind on how ludicrous this was, he banged his head on the countertop.

Chapter Text

Ringing was all Harry could hear. He didn’t know what was happening, only that he was on the floor, he was wet with something sticky, and his head hurt. He held it tightly, hoping it could combat the splitting consuming pain. “-Ary! Harry! Open the bloody door!” A fist pounded, only making it worse. 

Ron was on the other side. He had been waiting on the bed when he heard a bang and some groans, knowing Harry, he had likely hurt himself again. Ron looked over when he saw James approach, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Hey, hey, what’s happening?” He asked. “Harry went in here, and then I heard a bang, and he won’t open it-“ James quickly got his wand out, and whispered a little “Alohomora,” and the door opened. James was on the ground pulling Harry close as soon as he saw the blood. There was a very large gash across the top of his forehead, blood washed down his face and neck onto his shirt. Ron stood frozen in the doorway. “What did you do? What happened, Bub?” James asked in a panic, pointing the wand at Harry’s head and sending a healing spell to stop the bleeding. 

“You were just.. saying you hit your head..” Ron mumbled. James looked up at Ron confused. “He did? When?” — “5 bloody minutes ago!” Ron crouched down next to them. “You did this on purpose? Come on, say something, you’re not in trouble.” James grabbed a hand towel from the counter and started to wipe Harry’s face. Harry himself was having an incredibly hard time thinking clearly, his mind was muddled and grasping, he definitely gave himself a real concussion. He was an idiot, he shouldn’t have made a rucas, this whole plan was ruined, he didn’t even have another bump to explain his behavior today. “Think I've got.. all.. out of sorts..” James nodded slowly at Harry’s words. “You hit your head in the shower yesterday, which made you all funny, this is.. well, because of that, yea?” Ron said, looking between Harry and his father. 

Bless Ron, Harry thought. “Yea, yeah..” Then James frowned. “Yesterday? Bub you didn’t shower yesterday…” — “Well he hit his head somewhere and is confused- right?” Ron butted in. Harry nodded slightly, but winced at the pain. “I’ve got a problem, really.. I.. can’t remember..” James and Ron now shared a worried look. “You can’t remember? Since when?” James asked quickly. “Since… I came down the stairs last night.” The bathroom held a thick silence, until James groaned. “That’s why you acted so weird..” — “So he definitely has a concussion, right?” Ron asked James, — “Right. You can’t remember, but do you mean.. faintly? Can you remember anything before then?” Harry sighed. “No. I… I can’t remember. I just know who you are, and who I am..” Harry felt like crying, just from the look on his dad’s face. He looked devastated, and to know it couldn’t ever be fixed… Harry’s guilt was beginning to grow. 

“I’m gonna call a Mediwitch, alright? We can see if they can.. dig around in there-“ — “No!” Harry cut James off. “No, no, Dad, I can’t-“ Panic surged through his blood. “Hey- hey, calm down,” James pulled Harry into a tighter hug, rubbing his hands over his back. Harry wondered how he could leave come September 1st. “I can’t go..” People in Harry’s mind were the last thing he needed. There was far too much incriminating information, it was bound to drive a mediwitch crazy. “You wouldn’t go anywhere, Bub, they would come here.” James held a small frown on his face. “I don’t think Harry wants anyone inside his mind.” Ron butted in. “Ron is right, Harry doesn’t.” James laughed lightly. “It’s like you to make a joke at a time like this.” 

James started to stand, helping Harry up as well. “I’m calling Remus over to check you, until then, no sleep. Let’s go to the living room. Do you want to change?” Harry groaned an “I know..”, causing James to furrow his eyebrows. “You know? Are you a time traveler now?” He kissed the top of Harry’s head, and helped him down the stairs. Ron followed after he grabbed a shirt from Harry’s closet, figuring he was too out of it to understand the question. The two boys sat on the sofa while James wrote Remus. As soon as the letter arrived at Remus’s, the Potter fireplace lit up, and Remus came in through the Flew. His eyes landed on Harry first. Seeing the gash, drying blood, the serious silence, he instantly fired question after question as he fixed what he could.

Harry woke up to the sound of pecking at his window. How was it possible he couldn’t go one day without something either insane or horrible happening? He didn’t remember much after hitting his head, besides that he must’ve stayed up for hours and hours, probably waiting out the concussion. It was 2pm now. Harry’s head still hurt, but it was manageable. He held it gently as he stood and crossed the room to the window. After opening it, Hedwig flew in, flying around Harry a few times before landing on the desk. He grabbed the piece of parchment off her foot, and quickly unrolled it, sitting back on the edge of his bed. 

Harry Potter,

I am aware of who you are, and the very letter you wrote could be a cause to have me troubled. Though I won’t say your letter has not intrigued me, I do not trust that this is not a scheme. Tell me more, like why on Earth you would write to me of all people, and what exactly these ‘Life of Death’ or ‘Timeline jumper’ statements mean. Also, tell that Owl to be discreet. 

B. C. Jr.

After reading, Harry must have stared out his window for 10 minutes thinking. Though at the time Barty felt like the right choice, perhaps he wasn’t in his right mind. Barty Crouch Jr. wasn’t evil, but he was a Death Eater, and he couldn’t just sway him with a letter. What could he say?

B. C. Jr.,

I realize now I should have asked what it is you remember of me in the first letter. I’ve recently experienced something I believe no one has before. To explain this, I need to know you will not tell another soul I’ve written to you. A pact? 

To make the pact I'm sure you will want to know why you. Well the truth is, you seem to be the only man I think will believe this. To fully explain, again, I will need to know what you remember of our interactions.

H. P.

Hedwig flew off with the letter, leading Harry to brush it all off. If it went well, it would, if not, he would figure it out like he always did. He looked down, noticing he was wearing different clothes, a plain black shirt and plaid sleeping pants. They smelled like his father. He would never be ungrateful for laundry detergent. Harry stood and made his way downstairs, where he saw his father reading the paper on the sofa. James looked up, lips curling upward seeing his son look more coherent. “Harry, how are you feeling?” He patted the seat next to him, which Harry sat. “Much better. I’m sorry if I frightened you..” James rested his arm over his son’s shoulders. “Frightened? You bloody terrified me… I’m just glad you’re alright.” He gave Harry a small smile. “I remember… Remus checking me… and talking to you and Ron..” James nodded. “Well you had a concussion so we had to keep you up until it went down. Ron passed out trying too but I let him sleep, I think he’s still in bed now.” Harry frowned. “I feel like such a horrible friend.” — “It was an accident, wasn’t it?” James moved to look Harry in the eyes.

“Well-… yeah, it was an accident.” Harry really wished he didn’t have to lie. “Then you can’t be a horrible friend. You understand?” Harry sighed. It wasn’t right, but he nodded anyway. “Thanks, Dad.” Harry looked down, then back up to him. “Any plans?” James laughed lightly, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Of course you want to get back to action. Well, we have your birthday soon-“ Harry immediately jumped in. “My birthday?” His eyes widened. “Your 16th Birthday, you don’t remember?” James’ expression turned back to a familiar worry. “..16?” This wasn’t good. Not only was it now before his birthday, he aged a YEAR! He just turned 15, he wasn’t ready to be 16 yet, if Death messed up something as simple as his age, what else was different? “Right… I guess I’m just not used to hearing that.” Harry let out an awkward laugh, but at least James settled again. “Did you decide what you want to do?”

“I uhh.. well… I want to hang out with you and Ron.” James let out a small laugh. “Alright…” After a few moments, he realized Harry wasn’t joking. “Really? That’s it? You just want to hang out with the two of us?” Harry hoped this past him wasn’t a spoiled brat, but it was becoming more likely. “..Well.. if Moony and Padfoot want to see me…” James nodded slowly. “So.. no party, no galla, no.. no traveling.. Just us 5..” Harry shook his own head. “Unless Hermione will be back by then.” James sighed gently. “That bump really did a number on you.” 

Later that day Hedwig returned with a letter, to which Harry immediately read once in the privacy of his room. 

H. P. ,

We very first met in 1994, at this Quidditch thing. You and these 2 children tried to stop me, but failed. In that same year we interacted very frequently as I was disguised as Mad Eye Moody. After I was shipped off to Azkaban in 1995, I did not see or hear from you again, until very late in the year, I ran into you in Knockturn Alley. We exchanged a few words before you ran off. 

I agree not to tell a soul, so long as I get some real answers soon.

B. C. Jr.

Harry took a few deep breaths. Why was he in Knockturn Alley? What happened in 1995? 

B. C. Jr. ,

I can recall the first two events, but I’ve no recollection of August 1995 to early July of this year. Thank you for telling me. 

The answers you seek may not be understandable, but it is true. 

I met Death, and Death sent me on an adventure through what I believe to be the Multiverse, or something like timelines. If you haven’t put it together yet, I will state it plainly.

I am not from this world, it is unknown to me, and it is something I cannot tell a soul, besides, I've deducted, you. 

Please, do not share this. Though I have no proof, I want to believe you can believe the impossible. I have a feeling it is far from over. 

H. P. 

July 31st, 1996

The week passed with flying colors. Ron had gone home 2 days ago as his family returned early, as did Hermione. She claimed it wasn’t because of Harry’s birthday, but she was clearly lying. Harry woke up to the sound of a party favor, which scared him into a scream. James let it fall from his mouth, laughing wildly. “Happyyyy Birthday! You’re 16! How does it feel?” James smiled, sitting next to Harry on his bed. “Well… feels like I was hardly 15.” James smiled, before leaving and coming right back with a present. “Come on, come on, open it. I can’t wait.” Harry unwrapped the package, which revealed a… thing of which he had no clue. “Uhm… well.. It’s amazing, I love it!” He smiled. James looked between the object and Harry. “You’ve no clue what it is, do you?” 

“Nope.” James laughed gently. “It’s a phone.” Harry nodded slowly, then rubbed his ears. “A what?” - “It’s a phone!” Harry shook his head. This was a very small, very thin rectangular box. “No it isn’t-“ James pressed something and the box lit up, illuminated with color and words. This didn’t exist before, this wasn’t right. Last he checked the only phone in 1995 came in a much larger box and did not glow. Why was his dad messing with Muggle technology anyway? “So uhm.. well.. what is it for..?” James smiled. “The other week you were saying you were nervous to only talk to me once a day through a letter. Well with these.. phones, you can write a letter that sends instantly, with no Owl. Or you can press something and.. somehow your voice goes to the other person in live time. Oh and it has games. You can also take a photograph or find a little telly.” James explained.

“So you’ve gotten one too?” James nodded. “I have. We’ve just got to figure out how it works…” Were phones even allowed at Hogwarts? He never saw them, but then again, his 1995 didn’t have these. Harry couldn’t believe it was 1996 now. “So we can talk every day?” Harry looked back up to his dad. “Every day, any time, and they will always be there.” Harry nodded. “This… is a genius invention.” James laughed. “That’s the spirit! Now come on, get dressed, your pals are on their way.” The man stood, ruffled his son’s hair, and left the room. Would things ever stop being odd?

Chapter Text

Harry ran down the stairs dressed in a red button down and jeans. He wasn’t sure how he should dress so he decided to play it safe between dressy and casual. Was he really 16 now? Well this body was 16, that he knew. What he didn’t know was if he was mentally 15. What did he say when people asked his age? Death wouldn’t do this for no reason. He could be 16. 

Once he got downstairs, he was confused why the lights were all off, but then they turned on and a bunch of voices shouted ‘Surprise!’. “Oh wow-“ Harry was taken for that word, surprise, with something warm and fluttery. The room was completely drenched in birthday decorations. Ron, Hermione, Sirius and Remus were there like he asked, but a few more faces joined the midst. Neville, Dean, Seamus, Oliver, Ginny, Fred, George, Molly, Arthur, Draco- Draco?! 

And why were Dean, Seamus and Oliver here? Last he checked he hardly knew them outside being roommates and playing Quidditch, though he could understand. But Draco? “This is- wow- this is great-“ He stammered. He was swarmed with hugs and wishes of happy birthday. When he got a breath, he pulled his father aside. 

“Uhm, Dad?” — “Oh no- you don’t like it, do you? Well it’s not too late to change something-“ Harry quickly shook his head. “No, no, it’s great, it’s way more than I expected. I love it I promise.” James seemed a bit more relieved. “It’s just uhm.. you know.. where did you get to invite some of them?” The man’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Your friends?” — “Like.. Draco, and Oliver..” James nodded. “I got them from Ron. Was he wrong?” Now that was even weirder. Ron told James to invite Draco? Ron hated Draco. Unless subconsciously it’s what he wanted… Did Harry cause all of these changes? Like the invention of a device, being older, a new friendship? 

“Right, yeah, I’m.. fuzzy still I guess.” James nodded solemnly, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. Harry had always been a bit difficult, between being nice then mean then… a completely different person, he was already bad at feelings as it was. James always tried to just make Harry happy, possibly from the long standing guilt of Lily dying in front of Harry. Many said it spoiled him. The coddling, riches, fame from defeating Voldemort, all of it combined turned the sweet boy into a stubborn stuck-up teenager.

Ron and Hermione always said Harry was just different with them, which James tried not to let affect him. But since that night, Harry was back like that sweet little boy. Even then though, he was different. He wasn’t just sweet, he was respectful, selfless, caring, he asked for seconds at meals, in the first week he actually asked for water every time he was thirsty. It was like he had fear put into him. Whatever it was, James was glad Harry wasn’t mean anymore. He hoped his friends, who hadn’t seen him since, didn't make a big deal of it though.

Harry left his Dad with a smile, and joined Hermione and Ron who were chatting by the fireplace. He sat next to Hermione. “Hey guys.” — “Hey, mate.” Ron smiled. “How is it so far?” Hermione asked, expecting something like ‘It’s whatever’. “It’s great, really, I expected 5 people so this was a good surprise." Hermione looked over to Ron, sharing a look of ‘I see what you mean’. “What is it?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Well.. you’re just.. different, that’s all.” He stuck his hands near the fire. “Yeah… I guess hitting my head gave me a better mood.” Ron scoffed. “You’re talking..” Hermione hummed in agreement. “So.. Draco?” The two didn’t look phased. “What about him?” They all looked to where Draco was, trying to subtly sneer at Neville as he ranted about his toad Treavor. 

Harry sighed. It was too suspicious to explain why he thought they’d hate him. “Right, er.. I’ll just go talk to him then..” Ron got the hint and called Neville over, to which Draco sighed in relief. “He just goes on and on…” He muttered to Harry, who now stood next to Draco as they leaned against the wall. The birthday boy struggled with his words. “Uhm.. Draco.” The blonde boy looked over at Harry, raising an eyebrow. “You came.” Draco scoffed. “Of course I bloody came.” 

“Your.. how many years have you come?” — “This is my second year..” — “And I came to yours?” Draco’s eyes widened. “Of course not, not right now.” His voice lowered into something that threatened warning. “Is.. he.. there?” In the distance, Fred dropped a bowl of crisps on George. “Christ. They said you were all messed up, but I didn’t think it would be this bad.” Draco shook his head. “Who said?” — “Well… people.” — “Who?” The boy groaned. “Ron and Hermione.” Harry’s jaw dropped slightly. “They said I'm messed up?” He would pretend to not be hurt but that was pointless. “I’m sure they meant.. not normal.” 

“That’s not better..” Draco sighed. “It’s better than saying you’re messed up as in evil.” Harry had to agree with that one. “How long have we been friends- or- are we friends?” Both of them had to quickly duck as the plastic bowl of crisps now flung out of George’s hands. “Sorry!” He called out, laughing awkwardly. “Sure, we’re.. friends. But don’t go shouting it off rooftops. I suppose it will be 2 years.” Harry nodded, picking up the bowl and setting it back down on its table. “So then, er.. is Barty Crouch Jr. at your house?” Draco’s eyes widened again, this time nearly comically. “What-“ He shook his head. “Well yes, sometimes, but why in bloody hell are you asking about him?”

“I just remembered that er.. I really hate that git..” He didn't seem to believe it. “What, you’ve got a crush on the loony?” Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right, what is he, 30? 35?” Draco shrugged. “I don’t know, and I don’t care.” — “Fair enough.” — “So you fancy anyone then?” Harry scoffed. “I haven’t got time for crushes.” 

“Wait-wait, so how do you do it?” Harry laughed slightly, watching Fred and George do this horrid dance they made. They called it ‘The Moe’, whatever it was supposed to mean. “Look Ma, we’re Moeing!” Fred yelled at Molly, who shook her head. “Do the moe now, do the moe now, do the moe now-“ They continued the dance, chanting it until Harry did it with them. “Did someone order a train to MOE TOWN?!” — “AY-YI-YI-YI-YI!” 

Harry was playing a game of Wizards Monopoly when he heard the sound of Hedwig tapping at his window upstairs. He excused himself and ran up, quickly letting Hedwig in. He had been sending letters with Barty consistently until 2 days ago, they suddenly stopped, he had been worried to death that Barty was caught and Hedwig was hurt. “Hey, girl,” He cooed, petting her and feeding her some bacon he snagged. He grabbed the letter and quickly unrolled it. 

Hamburg er

Harry stared at the parchment in absolute disbelief. What did this mean…? Why did Barty write Hamburger and send it to him unsigned? Was he intercepted? If so, why in the bloody hell write Hamburger? Maybe it was a code word for help? Harry let Hedwig rest and went back downstairs. He sat down at the table with Remus, who was watching Sirius clean up some punch he spilled on James. “What does hamburger mean?” Remus immediately looked at Harry concerned. “Did you hit your head again?” His hand rushed to feel his forehead. “No, I mean like.. does it have any alternative meanings?” 

“Well.. I don’t know. None that I know of.” Harry nodded slowly. “What about.. Hamburg, space, er?” Remus nodded now. “Well.. Hamburg is a City and State in Germany. So it could mean.. the city, and.. the ER, as in the hospital.” He spoke slowly. “So it could mean help?” — “Well yes, I suppose so.” Harry darted up and back to his room to write.

B. C. Jr. ,

If you need help, send my father’s Owl back and I will find a way to help you. Possibly you could find something and write your location here. Or better yet, find yourself a muggle telephone and call this number. 777-9827

H. P. 

Harry sent away Mouse with the letter, since Hedwig was resting, and hoped for the best. Once again he returned downstairs and what he saw… it was terrifying. Oliver was screaming at Neville who appeared to be having a panic attack on the floor while a broomstick shaped present was flying around the room. “BINGO!” Ron yelled, followed by Ginny. “You idiot that’s Uno!” — “Ahh, no actually that would be the game Mum plays-“ Fred laughed, ducking when a pillow flew his way. 

“I’m kind of craving a hamburger now..” Remus said on the couch, nursing a glass of punch. “Do you think Burger King is open?” Sirius pondered. “Sirius, since when did you eat at Muggle fast food joints?” — “I didn’t know they had those in England..” James muttered. “Oh yeah, they’re all over the place now,” Arthur, always loving Muggles. “Don’t you mean McDonalds?” Molly asked. “Is anyone going to do anything about the broomstick flying through here?” Harry finally asked, having ducked from it for the 6th time. 

“WHO TOLD HIM?!” Ron asked, looking utterly betrayed. “Ron.. look at it.. what else could it be?” Hermione sighed. “Anyone else feel a draft in here?” Dean wondered. “Yeah, I do, got real chilly all the sudden..” Seamus agreed. “But- but- it was a surprise, ‘Mione! Why didn’t you tell me?” Ron whined. “Well.. you just seemed so proud..?” Ron sighed. “Well, mate, from the Weasley’s and the blonde Git over there, we present a broomstick… man I thought i’d do that better..” — “More like this blonde git paid and those ginger gits came up with the idea.” Draco butted in. 

Harry laughed. “Well mates, thank you all very much. I’m sure it’s grand.” — “You better practice on it all of August, no excuses now.” Oliver half-joked, half-scolded. “I’ll be the best come September first.”  

“What a day.” Harry sighed, slumped on the couch next to his dad. “That’s very right. Was it a good day?” James asked, seeming hopeful. “It was the best birthday I've ever had. Thanks to you.” James’ head snapped towards Harry, a smile on his face. He pulled Harry into a tight hug. “You are so weird. I love you.” The boy hugged his dad back just as tight, tears springing to his eyes. “Uh oh, waterworks,” James laughed awkwardly, rubbing his eyes. “Me too.” The two began to laugh. 

After chatting for a small while, Harry returned to his bedroom, laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Today. Today might have been the best day of his life, everyone he loved and cared about in one room, laughing, having fun. He looked over to his nightstand, where a picture lay. His mum. It was just a theory that he made all the changes happen, but if it was true, why didn’t his mum come back? 

Harry’s thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his window. He expected to see his father’s owl, but instead he saw a man, perched outside with an enthusiastic smile. Harry’s eyes widened. It was Barty. The boy slowly stood and opened the window. Barty cluttered through, knocking nearly everything off Harry’s desk. “What are you doing here?” Barty held up a burger king bag. “Well I really wanted a hamburger.” He slowly nodded. “Right, right,… so… you’ve gotten a burger, and came here…” — “Well the owl sort of… is no longer with us, so I had to reply in person.” Barty said, already having one of the burgers stuffed in his mouth. 

“You- what? What happened?” Harry whisper-yelled. “It was not my fault.” He slowly nodded. “Okay…” How would he even explain this? “So we’re pals now right?” Barty questioned, every so often his tongue would dart out, a tick Harry weirdly found charming. He liked weird people. “Well.. yeah,” Barty clapped. “Great!” - “Shh!” Harry held up a finger. “My dad can’t know you’re here.” Barty held up his hands, “Well alright, Little boss.” — “But.. you were saying?” Barty held up a finger as he finished his burger. “I need a place to stay. That old git at the motel kicked me out.” 

“Let me guess, you didn’t pay?” — “Well I can’t be everywhere at once.” Harry sighed. He couldn’t just say no after Barty had been here these past 2 weeks however. “So long as you promise not to get me in trouble. You actually have to try and be discreet.” Barty nodded. “Of course. I don’t want to be hit with a million angry spells either.” Harry sighed in relief, sitting on his bed. “Well.. there’s the basement..” — “Rats.” — “The attic.” — “Terrified of tornadoes." Harry groaned. “You're impossible.” Barty laughed. “Well.. how about I just live under your bed like a monster- if you ask your dad to check for the monster though-“ 

Barty was now sprawled on the floor, crawling slowly under the bed. “It’s actually rather nice-“ Harry grabbed Barty’s foot and pulled him out. “Come on,” — “Hey, my habitat,” — “What about the closet?” Harry walked over to the small room and opened the door. It was enough floor space for him to lay down. “Alright, alright, now we’re talking. I love me a nook.” Barty held his burger king bag like a stuffed animal and very well passed out on the floor. 

Harry shook his head, before closing the closet door. He shouldn’t have fallen asleep so easily that night considering a Death Eater was sleeping in the room next to him, available to come at any second, but he had a feeling nothing would happen.