A/N: Once again thank you for your reviews! You guys are the best! I’m only sorry that I don’t know, when the next chapter will be out, since I’m going to have my final examination next weeks and I get the feeling that I still have to do a lot of studying, so that’s what I’m doing mostly nowadays… Unfortunately this means that I don’t have much time to write or even post already existing chapters, since I reread every chapter before I post it here, hoping to delete mistakes that I have overlooked the first time I read this…

I hope that this chapter will be enough for you for now, especially since it is rather long! Have fun!

Chapter 13: Of lies and protective instincts

Two brooms were zooming around the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with their riders, racing back and forth as if chasing something. Suddenly, the leading broom was jerked to the left and urged into a dive long before the second one could react. Seeing that there was no chance of catching up at all, the second rider slowly flew to the ground, where the first had just landed, clutching a small golden ball in his hands.

Harry Potter stood on the ground, broom in one and the struggling Golden Snitch in the other hand, watching with a smug grin on his face how his father slowly touched down next to him.

"Now I know why I've never even tried out for Seeker," he said, as he got off the broom and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "My reflexes might be good, but spying the Snitch, in the chaos of a game nonetheless, would have been impossible. I'd rather prefer the Quaffle – large, handy and most of all visible for the normal eye."

Harry shrugged and rubbed a few sore ribs. "At least you don't get the wind knocked out of you as Seeker, when you know how to dodge the Bludgers, mind you. I think there'll be bruises tomorrow, where you hit me with the Quaffle."

"Well, it's not my fault that you're not able to catch a ball of this size," James laughed.

It had taken almost one month until Harry and James finally found time to test each other's skills at Quidditch. This Monday was the last day at Hogwarts before James and Lily wanted to leave the castle to live in their own house. The students would return the following day and they thought that they had stayed long enough. So father and son used this sunny afternoon to its fullest and mounted their brooms, with Lily and little Harry watching them. Lily had been furious, when James had suddenly halted next to her and taken one-month-old Harry on a few laps around the pitch. Harry thought that this had been a sight to behold – his mother stomping with her feet and yelling at his father, while little Harry was squealing with delight.

And once again he wished that everything would have been different for him. He wished that Voldemort had not killed his parents. Not for the first time he wished to be a normal young man, a normal wizard without the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. But he had had no say in this. Voldemort had chosen him instead of Neville, killed his parents and destroyed any chance of ever being normal that he had ever had.

"Are you alright?"

Harry looked up, having been torn out of his thoughts by his father. He forced a smile on his face and nodded. "I'm alright. Just been thinking, that's all." Letting his gaze wander around, he saw Lily, who was holding something in her right hand and waving at them. "Seems like she wants us to come to her," he said, glad that his mother had given him the possibility to avoid any questions his father might have.

"Well, then we shouldn't let her wait any longer," James replied and together they made their way across the Quidditch pitch to where Lily, who was still holding Harry, was standing.

"This just arrived," Lily said and showed them the piece of parchment, as they stopped in front of her. "It's from Albus. He wishes to see the three of us in his office. Now," she added with a small smile gracing her lips, when she saw the regretful look James and Harry were giving their brooms.

The two young men sighed in unison and Harry put the Golden Snitch back into the trunk, where the struggling Bludgers and the Quaffle where already stored. Harry quickly brought the trunk back to the changing rooms before he joined his parents in front of the main entrance and they walked to Dumbledore's office. James just wanted to tell the gargoyle the password, as it already sprung aside and a man all three of them knew too well came walking down the stairs. Harry felt his father tense remarkably, while his mother still smiled. He himself clearly did not know how to react, because in front of him was standing none other than Severus Snape.

"Potter," he drawled, focusing on James, after he had let his eyes wander over Lily, her little son and Harry.

"Snivellus. How endearing to meet you here. I never expected to see you again at Hogwarts, so care to tell me what you are doing here?"

"This is not your business, Potter. Or," he said, as his gaze rested on Harry, "maybe it is. If you excuse me, I'm expected."

Without saying another word, Snape pushed past them, but in those few minutes Harry had noticed some astounding differences between this Snape and the Snape in his time. The most prominent difference was clearly that the black hair of this Snape was shiny, clean and elegantly tied back, a bit like his own, only that his were still incredibly messy, Harry thought, as he absentmindedly ran his left hand through his windswept hair that absolutely refused to remain in the hair-band. A few strands always fell out and into his face, but Harry had learned to live with this – at least those strands covered his scar a bit. However, another noticeable difference between the two Snapes were the eyes. While Snape's eyes in Harry's time were usually cold, calculating and bitter, the eyes of the other Snape still held some warmth. Only the sneer was the same, but this could be due to the dislike towards Harry and James respectively.

"Probably expected by his fellow Death Eaters," James muttered, pulling Harry out of his thoughts.

Lily put a comforting hand on her husband's shoulder. "Leave him, James. We should hurry, Albus is waiting," she said, motioning with her head to the still open staircase.

"You're right," James sighed and smiled at his wife. "Harry?"

"I'm coming," he told them and turned his head to them, away from the corridor where Snape had disappeared in. Another question had been formed in his head – was Snape already a spy for Dumbledore or was he still loyal to Voldemort? Was he even a Death Eater at this time or would he still become one? Suddenly the memory of a blond woman and a black-haired girl penetrated his thoughts – he had completely forgotten about them. He still had not found time to find out who they were, but vowed that he would make up for it soon. Maybe they were the key to answer his questions.

Hearing his father clearing his throat, Harry smiled at him apologetically and followed his parents up the stairs into Dumbledore's office. The old wizard was already seated behind his desk and three chairs were standing in front of it. The three of them sat down and after having declined the obligatory offer of a sherbet lemon, James spoke the question that was on his mind.

"What did Snape want?"

Albus Dumbledore gave James a look that clearly told him that he did not agree with the hateful and accusatory tone of James' voice, but answered his question nonetheless. "Mr. Snape had been here to apply for the post as professor for Defence against the Dark Arts. I had to tell him of course that this position was already taken. Yet, I assured him I would inform him as soon as a position that meets his requirements is open. However, this is not what I wished to discuss with you."

"It's because we are returning to Godric's Hollow tomorrow, isn't it?" Lily wanted to know.

"Indeed it is. I set up some additional wards around your property for your protection."

"I'm sorry, if I appear rude," James said confused, "but why? I think Lily and I have proven on more than one occasion that we are able to defend ourselves against Death Eaters and even Voldemort himself."

"Believe me, James, I know that. But it's not just because of you. It's also because of your son. Even while Lily was pregnant, she had been able to defend herself, but now that you have to look after one more person, a person who cannot defend himself at all, I deemed it necessary to improve the protection around your house. I assure you, those additional wards are only precautions, only a special kind of repelling charm, an alarming charm to let me know, when someone unbidden had found a way to avoid the repelling charm and so on. You see, nothing overly severe. But, if something grave happens that might endanger your safety, we have to take more serious measures."

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, and Harry could swear that she had a hard time to keep the worry that he could see on her face out of her voice. He, however, thought he knew what Dumbledore was talking about, but that he obviously wanted to wait to take this action made him question his intentions. Harry had thought that Dumbledore wanted to talk to his parents about the prophecy, but instead he let it sound as if nothing was wrong and that he had just erected the wards as preventative measure, just in case Voldemort decided to attack them.

"I'm talking about the Fidelius Charm – I assume you know about this charm?" Lily and James both nodded, while James gave Lily's hand a small squeeze. "But that's just if something happens, so I don't want you to think about this yet. Another thing I wanted to talk to you about, and this is now the reason why I asked Harry to attend this meeting, is the correspondence between Hogwarts and Godric's Hollow. I'm sure you and Harry wish to have as much contact as possible, so I want to warn you to be careful what to put in your letters. The consequences, if anything about your true relation gets in the hands of a Death Eater, would be disastrous, but I think you know that already."

"Of course, Albus, we'll be careful," Lily assured him with a smile on her face.

"Fabulous, that was all I wanted to discuss with you. You can go back now to whatever you were doing before I interrupted," Dumbledore told them with the ever-present twinkle in his eyes.

"You go ahead," Harry said, as James and Lily stood up. "I still need to talk to Albus about something…"

"Okay, we'll see you later," James called, as he and his wife left the office.

Before the door closed, Harry thought he heard them talking about helping someone with a thing, but did not think about it further, because now that they were alone he finally could take him to task about his intentions towards his parents.

"You didn't tell them", he said calmly and looked Dumbledore directly in the eyes.

"No, I didn't. They don't need to know yet, it's too early."

"Too early?" Harry asked outraged, as he jumped up and began to pace in the office. "You know that a part of the prophecy had been overheard, but still you don't tell them! Voldemort might already be planning his attack and still you don't tell them! What if it is different in this timeline and he attacks them next month, next week… what if he attacks them tomorrow and…" kills them! Harry wanted to yell, but just remembered in time that Dumbledore did not know that his parents died in Voldemort's attack. He only knew about the scar and that Harry was the one destined to kill the Dark Lord.

"Harry, I guarantee that Voldemort doesn't know about the prophecy. I don't know how he found out in your time, but I know the eavesdropper and he is loyal."

"To whom?" Harry prompted.

Dumbledore sighed and Harry once again got a glimpse of the true age of the old wizard. "I would ask you to tell me who relayed the first part of the prophecy to Voldemort, but…"

"Even though you said so at our first meeting, you still are not completely sure, if our appearance and meddling in this timeline changes something in mine. You still want to do a bit more research, before you are completely sure of this, besides, I couldn't tell you anyway, because I don't know the answer." Just like I didn't know many other things, because you always thought it was too early to tell me, he thought, remembering his fifth year. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper in check, before he continued with still closed eyes. "So, you think the eavesdropper is trustworthy, but that still doesn't explain why you didn't tell my parents about the prophecy, except for the fact that it is too early."

"Tell me Harry, how did you feel, when I, I mean the other me, first told you about it?"

Harry's eyes jerked open and he stared at Dumbledore with a disbelieving look on his face. "You- you can't compare this…" he spluttered. “The situation has been completely different. Si- someone very close to me had just died not even an hour before he dropped this bombshell on me. How do you think I felt?"

"Then let me put it this way… How do you feel now with this burden? Don't you long for a life, in which you don't have to worry about fighting and killing Voldemort?"

"Of- of course I do, but… Who wouldn't?" Harry could not believe this. What was Dumbledore getting at?

"That's the point. Who wouldn't? Instead of burdening them with the prophecy now, I give your parents the chance at a normal life. But don't worry, I'll tell them, as soon as something happens that tells me it's time for them to know. I think you are doing something similar with your friends, because as far as I know, you haven't informed them of the prophecy either."

The young man looked straight at the Headmaster, daring him to continue. Telling his friends and telling his parents were two completely different things. His parents might die, because they did not know what it was about, that it even existed, while his friends might die, when they found out about it. Besides, this fight was his and not his friends', no matter how often they said that they would not leave his side. They could not defeat Voldemort, only Harry could, so not telling them about it made it easier to face him alone, to push them away, when he needed to. They would never let him go alone, if they knew that he most likely would not return. They would try to talk him out of going alone, say that there must be another way. But there wasn't – and Harry had accepted that. It was either him, Voldemort or both of them that would go down in the end and Harry also knew that his chances were not that good. Voldemort was still more powerful, but he hoped at least that he could take him with him, when it was time, so that his friends and surrogate family could live in peace.

"I don't ask you to accept my decision, only to respect it, since I'm confident that I haven't acted any differently in your time," Dumbledore continued in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

He stared into Dumbledore's almost pleading blue eyes and nodded stiffly, fighting the urge to rage at him more, but he wasn't a hormonal teenager anymore. From tomorrow on he would be teaching kids and arguing like this with the Headmaster would not earn him any respect. "Good day, Professor," he only said, before he turned around and left the office.

Hurrying down the corridors to the main entrance, he almost ran down the staircase to the entrance hall and headed outside to his favourite place on the Hogwarts grounds, the lone tree at the lake, where he sat down in the sun, leaning against the tree. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it with a quick wave of his hand, being too lazy to take out his wand, before he took a long, calming drag and exhaled the grey-bluish smoke. His hands were still shaking with anger, as the argument between him and Dumbledore replayed in his head. But it was not just the argument he had had with the Headmaster only minutes ago, no, he also remembered bits and pieces of the argument he had with Dumbledore at the end of his fifth years, shortly after the incident in the Department of Mysteries.

It had taken Harry a long time after that, almost the full length of sixth year, to be able to trust Dumbledore again. He could remember how angry he had been at Dumbledore, for not telling him those important things, how he had blamed him for Sirius' death. Harry had tried to avoid him as much as possible at first, be it at Grimmauld Place during the last weeks of the holidays, or at Hogwarts. During the Welcoming Feast and Dumbledore's speech, Harry had ignored him completely and his anger at him had only risen,
when he had noticed the sad and tired looks Dumbledore had given him then.

Shortly after his sixth year had begun, Dumbledore had called Harry into his office to discuss further tutoring in Occlumency. This time the Headmaster had wanted to teach him himself, but Harry had declined, asking if he knew someone else, who could teach him. When the Headmaster had shaken his head, Harry had only said, "Ask Professor Snape. No matter how much I hate him, my hatred towards you is still bigger. If he refuses, tell him that this time, I'm actually willing to learn something, because now I know what I have to protect and why I have to keep Voldemort out of my mind. If he still refuses, you just have to find someone else, but I won't let you teach me."

Most surprisingly, Snape had not refused and so Harry had spent four nights a week in the dungeons, learning Occlumency and at the same time picking up skills at Legilimency. The young wizard had noticed his improvements with each passing night – his scar had stopped hurting, his visits to Voldemort's mind had become fewer and fewer until he had been able to sleep through the night without any interruptions.

So it was, when the Christmas holidays neared and Harry had applied for staying at the castle, while Ron and Ginny were spending Christmas at Grimmauld Place and Hermione with her parents, that Dumbledore had once again called him into his office. Harry had expected that the Headmaster had wanted to force him to go to Grimmauld Place for the holidays, but he had never expected his true intentions. After Dumbledore had told him about them, Harry could only stare at the Headmaster, not knowing if he should be happy or once again angry. "Yes Harry, Professor Snape told me, quite impressed, if I may say so, that you are finally able to conceal your mind, which doesn't mean that your tutoring is over yet, because I'm sure that Professor Snape still knows techniques to teach you, but you are now advanced enough to partake in Order meetings. It is, as you told me once, your fight, after all and I'm sorry that I haven't seen this before. You are an extraordinary young man, Harry and by far experienced enough to be a member of the Order of Phoenix."

For the first time in months, Harry had looked at Dumbledore with something resembling gratitude in the eyes and had mouthed, "Thank you." The first meeting Harry had attended had been on Christmas Eve. Despite all protests from Ron and Ginny, Harry had stayed at Hogwarts, finishing his assignments and flooed to Grimmauld Place just minutes before the meeting had started. Many heads had turned, when he had stepped inside the drawing room, but Dumbledore had welcomed him with a warm smile and then informed the other members of their new addition. There had been some protests, mostly from Molly Weasley, but in the end they had to accept that Harry was now a part of the Order of the Phoenix. After the highly interesting meeting, Harry had spent the night at Grimmauld Place, surprising Ron and Ginny, who had not expected him to come over Christmas, but when he had then told them about his membership in the Order, Ron had only been able to say one word, "Blimey!"

So slowly Harry had started to trust Dumbledore again. The old wizard had done everything in his powers to keep Harry informed about the happenings and had let him attend as many meetings as possible, when it was conformable with his timetable and his exams. He had given Harry access to the restricted section of the library to prepare for the inevitable fight and had also hired several private tutors to help him from time to time.

Also, on the Sunday after the exams, shortly before the summer holidays had started and Harry would once again and hopefully for the last time, be released into the care of the Dursleys, Dumbledore had done the one thing Harry would always be grateful for and had helped him to finally forgive the Headmaster fully – he had brought him to Godric's Hollow, to Lily's and James' resting place. Until the last moment, Harry had not known where they were going, but as soon as they had passed the gates to the cemetery, a dull
feeling had settled in Harry's stomach. First when they had stopped in front of a grey gravestone, Harry had understood. He had fallen to his knees and had traced the inscription of his parents' names and the dates of their births and deaths. For sixteen long years he had not once thought about looking for their graves or even asking someone where they had been buried. Since his parents had always been a tender subject with the Dursleys, it had never even occurred to him to ask and also at school it had never crossed his mind. Harry had looked up at Dumbledore and suddenly had not seen the wizard that had lied to him and taken almost everyone he had ever cared for from him. He had seen an old man that had made a grave mistake, but who wanted to make it up again.

"I thought that maybe you wanted to see this," Dumbledore had said. "They were truly wonderful people, Harry. I wished you could have known them."

"Thank you," Harry had only whispered, still not taking his eyes from the headstone. "I don't know how I can thank you for this."

"You don't need to thank me. I'm just an old man trying to right the things I've done wrong, to make up for past mistakes. I only try to earn your forgiveness…"

"Forgiveness can't be earned," Harry had said and looked up at Dumbledore, whose face had fallen at those words. "Forgiveness can only be given and… I forgive you…" At that moment, Harry could have sworn that a single tear had rolled down the old wizard's face and disappeared in his long beard. A tear of relief.

"T's beautiful, isn' it? I always love ter see 'er disappearin' behind the mountains…"

Harry raised his head startled, not having noticed anything around him, so deep had he been in thoughts, and saw that he was right now sitting in a large shadow. He squinted against the orange corona surrounding the huge person in front of him and immediately recognized him. There was only one person this large at Hogwarts.

"Yeh mus' be Harry, James' cousin. Dumbledore told me all 'bout yeh and the trouble yeh went through. Also read the articles in the Prophet, all nonsense if yeh ask me. Dumbledore says yeh're no threat, so yeh aren'. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds," the half-giant introduced himself. "Bu' everyone calls me Hagrid."

"I'm Harry, but you obviously know that already," he said, smiling at his old friend.

"I would've recognized you're related to James, even if Dumbledore didn' tell me 'bout yeh. Yeh look just like him, just the 'air is a bit lon' and yeh wear no glasses."

"If you want to see my cousin, Lily and their son you should go up to them soon. They're leaving tomorrow," Harry told him.

"Nah, tomorrow's time 'nough. Just came back from a mission and I'm tired." As if to prove his point, Hagrid let out a wide, loud yawn. "Sorry 'bout tha'. T's been a lon' day. Just wanted ter get out, take a look 'round the grounds, see if everything's alrigh'. Mind if I join yeh?" Hagrid asked and motioned with frantic movements to the space next to Harry.

He shook his head. "Not at all." The earth trembled a bit, when Hagrid sat down, but that did not bother Harry at all.

"Dumbledore's a grea' man fer lettin' 'em stay at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, he is," Harry mumbled and suddenly he started to sink again into one of his thoughtful moods. He absentmindedly lit another cigarette and shook his head. It would do him no good to brood, as Ron had started to call his habit of becoming thoughtful from one moment to another. Instead he tried to change the subject. "I heard you are great with animals."

"Well, yea', I think. Most animals in the Forbidden Forest don' dare ter attack me and I, meself, have a small boarhound fer 'bout half a year now. Named him Fang," Hagrid told him. "But me biggest wish is ter have a dragon as pet."

Harry chuckled slightly, remembering Norbert, the dragon Hagrid had wanted to keep as a pet in their first year, but suddenly, not knowing why, he sighed and the next words just seemed to tumble out of his mouth. "I had a dog once, large and black. His name was Snuffles. He died when I was almost sixteen. I'd known him for only two years and still it hurt terribly, when he died."

"How did he die?" the half-giant wanted to know, seemingly completely enrapt by this story.

"He fell," Harry only said. "He fell and I couldn't save him."

"'M sorry 'bout that. Sometimes, when an animal in the forest dies, I can hear the others cry for him. T's not a pretty sound an' I always get sad, when I hear 'em."

They remained silent for a moment, each of them watching the last rays of the sun disappear behind the mountains. When the sun was completely gone, Harry looked around and suddenly he saw someone walking towards them.

"There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere. And didn't I tell you to throw those things away?" Hermione asked, but even though she sounded disapproving, there was, as always, when she breached this subject, a smile on her face.

"Hermione, this is Hagrid, the Keeper of Keys and Grounds," Harry introduced them, as he and Hagrid got up. "Hagrid, this is Hermione. She's going to teach Transfiguration as substitute for Professor McGonagall."

"Nice ter meet yeh, Hermione," Hagrid said, grasping her small hand in his large one.

"Nice to meet you, too, Hagrid." Hermione smiled at him. Up until now, he had been one of the persons that she had missed the most in the castle.

"Well then, I think I better go back ter me hut, get some sleep. I hope I'll be seeing yeh 'round," Hagrid told them.

Both Harry and Hermione said goodbye to Hagrid, before the half-giant went back to his hut and they returned to the castle. On the way to their common room, Harry noticed that Hermione was somehow nervous and unusually silent and wondered, if something was wrong. "You said you've been looking for me. Why?"

"Honestly Harry," the young woman shook her head smiling. "Did you forget that we wanted to go through your lessons plan one last time tonight?"

"Ehm…" As a matter of fact, he could not remember talking to Hermione about this, but before he could say anything, they were standing in front of the painting to their common room. Hermione said the password and went inside, after the painting swung open. The first thing Harry noticed was that it was incredible dark inside. Instinctively he willed his wand into his hand and just wanted to mutter, "Lumos," as all lights inside the common room flared up and he was welcomed with a loud,

"Surprise!"

~*~

Harry was sitting in one of the red stuffed chairs, holding a glass of Firewhiskey between his palms and followed the old and quite worn Golden Snitch that he had gotten from his father, flutter around the room. This party had been Ron's and Hermione's idea and his parents had only been too eager to join in the preparations. A belated birthday party they had called it, since his had been cut rather short by Voldemort's attack. Harry did not complain, not at all, but this whole thing had surprised him a lot. Hence the term surprise party. Not many people were there, only those that knew of their situation, namely the four time travelers, his parents, who had left little Harry in the care of his godfather, and Molly and Arthur Weasley had been invited.

Since they had appeared in this time, Harry had only thought once that the day they had been brought back had been his birthday, and this had been, when he had told Dumbledore how many years they had travelled back in time. After that there had been much more important things than his birthday that he had had to think of.

Once again, Harry felt a great deal of affection for his friends. Ever since the fight in the Department of Mysteries they had tried their best to cheer him up, even though they had had their own problems. Somehow he thought that he had not always been the friend they deserved to have and that he had never shown them how grateful he was for their friendship. Whenever they were with him, they were in danger. They went with him into the lion's den and never complained about it. They stood by his side despite everything that had happened. No matter how much danger they were in, they were always there. This pleased and at the same time scared him. Harry knew that it would only be a matter of time until he lost one of them, if he did not defeat Voldemort soon.

At least, here and now, he hoped they were safe. He remembered Hagrid telling him, when he had first met him, that Voldemort had never dared to attack Hogwarts, though Dumbledore had never told him this. According to the half-giant, the attack in their seventh year had been the first one. But then again, it had never occurred to him to ask Dumbledore about this small fact to confirm what Hagrid had told him. However, though the Headmaster had been a lot more forthcoming with information during his last two school years and the Order meetings later, he was sure that the old Headmaster had not told him everything, out of fear to hurt him and drive him away again – though he did not know if this information would have hurt him. Just as Harry had, as Hermione had put it, a saving-people thing, Dumbledore had a protecting-people thing. And just as Harry had unintended endangered his friends, he was sure that Dumbledore had also endangered people with this
thing.

Glancing around the room, Harry noticed that his friends and family were all merrily talking and drinking with each other and that none of them was paying him any attention, so he got up and disappeared in his room, where he put the half-full glass on the desk and looked out of the window. It was already completely dark and the only way to discern the Forbidden Forest was because it was still a lot darker than the night sky. There was no light in Hagrid's hut, so Harry assumed that he had indeed turned in early.

From the window, he let his gaze wander around the room. So, this would now be his new home for an indefinite amount of time. It could be months or years until they found a way to return to their own time. It could be never. It might very well be that they were stuck in this time with no way to return. But what would he do then? Directly after their first talk with Dumbledore, Harry had been ready to do everything to keep his parents alive, but then, later, the Headmaster had warned them to keep any information that might change this timeline more than their appearance already had, to themselves until he had verified his theory that their timeline would not be changed at all. Now Harry was forced to keep silent, not being able to help his parents at all. He truly hoped that Dumbledore would find out soon that he was right, so that Harry could at least save his parents in this timeline. But until then he had to look at them without being able to tell them anything, hoping against hope that they would not suffer the same fate as his parents.

"May I come in?"

Harry turned around and saw his father standing in the door to his room. "Of course…"

"This room is nice," James commented, as he closed the door and stepped into the room. "Almost nicer than the one Lily and I had. And the view isn't all too bad, even though I would have preferred the Quidditch pitch." He squinted against the darkness, but when he accepted that he could not see anything, he turned back to his son. "What's wrong?" Before Harry could open his mouth, James continued, "And don't tell me nothing's wrong. I may not know you as well yet as your friends or your own parents do, but I'm not blind and I can see, when my son is troubled. So, what is it?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. There are many small things that are bothering me…"

"And one big thing, if I'm not mistaken. See, I think I already know you better than you think." James grinned, when he saw the stunned look on his grown-up son's face. "Sometimes when we talk, I get the feeling that you're just dying to tell me something, but you can't, out of fear that it might change something. Don't worry about this, I'm sure that someday you'll be able to tell us, as soon as Albus finally finds out what the consequences of your travel really are."

Harry could only stare at his father. Whenever he had seen him in the memories of people that had known him, he had never seen him this insightful. This was a completely new side to his father that he just got to know. While James' words slowly started to sink in, many others emerged in his mind, so, after a brief moment of silence, he sputtered, "Dumbledore is keeping something from you, too."

"I know," James only said and turned again to look out of the window. "But I trust Albus and believe that, in the end, everything will turn out fine. I'm not even sure I want to hear already, what he's keeping from us, if I'm ready to hear it. But he will tell us, when he thinks it's time for us to know."

"Aren't you angry with him that he has secrets that concern you?"

"Angry with him? No. I know that his tidings aren't good ones, and I want to enjoy my life with Lily and little Harry as long as possible. If I've learned one thing in the last years, then it is to live in the now. Seize the moment, because you don't know if you'll live to see the next day. If Voldemort or some of his Death Eaters suddenly decide to kill me tomorrow, I want to die with the knowledge that I haven't wasted one single moment in my life. I don't know if I'd live like that, knowing that something bad will happen." James shook his head. "No, that's not how I want to die…"

Harry could not look at his father at that moment, not after those words. Was Harry truly overreacting to the prophecy? He could not imagine to live a normal life with the prophecy always in the back of his mind, reminding him again and again that one day it will come down to kill or be killed. Would the last few years have been different, if Dumbledore had never told him about the prophecy? Would it have been different, if he had known about it ever since he had found out about his true heritage? Of course it would have been different, for better and for worse. If he had not known about the prophecy, he probably still would have wanted to kill Voldemort, but he would not carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, knowing that, if he failed, the world would be lost. However, if he had known the contents of the prophecy from the very beginning, he most likely would have never made friends with Ron and Hermione. He would have wanted to be alone, train alone, fight alone and die alone, so that no one needed to mourn him.

"Do you see what I mean?" James asked, when the look on Harry's face told him that he had understood his words. "I've never been good in Divination, but I know that God, or whoever's up there, has a plan for all of us and I pity those who know what destiny has in store for them." He clapped Harry on his shoulder and walked past him. "Think
about it."

When Harry heard the door close again behind him, a small smile crept on his face. His father was right, but even though Harry knew that the chances that he would not get out of this alive were higher than fifty percent, he now decided that he would make most of the time that he had still left. He would not leave this plane of existence without leaving something behind. As long as he was still alive, he would try to live.

For neither can live while the other survives.

He would show them all, and most of all Voldemort, that he would not let some prophecy rule his life!

With this thought in mind and a smile on his face, Harry took his glass from the desk and left his room, joining his friends at his birthday party.