At first, Dumbledore’s response was met with stunned silence, as each of them had to process the true meaning of this simple word. Yes. Harry didn’t dare to blink, as he gazed at the Headmaster, as if afraid that once he closed his eyes and opened them again, he would be back in their common room to find out that nothing of this had happened. Only second later, voices exploded around him, questions flying around, exclamations of relief and happiness filling his ears, but still, Harry didn’t say anything.
They could return home. To their own time. Almost five months had they waited to hear this and now, now he couldn’t, didn’t want to believe that this was really true. To be completely honest, he liked living in this time “ after long years of longing for them, he finally had his parents back. Only once in his life, Harry wanted to be selfish, but found that it was impossible. The others all had lives and family “ or in Draco’s case freedom of his family “ in their time and Harry couldn’t deny them this.
At the same time, as he decided that he couldn’t deny the others their lives, a new sense of determination began to fill him and a fire that had dimmed a bit during the last few months of relative peace flared up anew. They would return home. He would finish what he had started on the night of his birthday. He would finally kill Voldemort. The war would finally end.
“Please,” Dumbledore’s voice suddenly echoed through his office, effectively cutting off the confusion of voices that filled the room. “I know you are all very excited about those developments, but I have to ask you to pay attention just a bit longer, before you may bombard me with all the questions you might have. There are still a few more facts I have to tell, or rather, show you.”
The aged Headmaster rose from his chair and went to a cabinet, which Harry immediately recognized. And he wasn’t disappointed, when Dumbledore opened it to reveal the soft silvery glow of memories, took the Pensieve out and placed it on his desk. Harry’s fingers were itching, wondering which memory they were going to view in a few moments. Harry guessed that those were either from this Lewthwaite or Dumbledore, but he knew for sure that the information this memory contained would be extremely important for their return.
“It might become a bit crowded,” Dumbledore continued eventually. “But I believe you all should see this memory. This will save us all some time and energy to discuss where we have to go from here later on. I’d suggest that one of you go first and I’d go last, so that the memory won’t start replaying the events before you’re all present.” His eyes wandered over the people sitting and standing in his office, until Harry felt his gaze resting on him. “Harry would you like to…”
Dumbledore didn’t need to say more, because Harry was already standing, ready to plunge into the memory. He crossed the distance to the Pensieve in a few resolute strides and didn’t even hesitate to take a deep breath, which he usually did before entering a memory, as he dipped his face into the silvery liquid. Immediately he felt his feet leave the ground and he was falling through darkness. Only moments later, Harry found himself standing on the pavement of a brightly lit Muggle street. Looking up at the sun and having to shield his eyes from its harshness, Harry guessed that it was just past noon.
One after another the others arrived around him, but Harry didn’t pay them any heed, as he looked around. This street reminded him eerily of Privet Drive. The red brick houses looked all the same, the gardens were neatly kept and if he didn’t know better, he’d say that the bored housewives were already craning their necks to get a better look at them. But maybe this feeling wasn’t ill-founded, as he suddenly saw the memory of a very eccentrically dressed Albus Dumbledore (he was wearing a lime green pinstriped suit) walk down the street up to a house bearing the number ten.
“As you are probably aware by now,” the Dumbledore that came with them into the memory said, “this is my memory of my visit to Mr. Lewthwaite. If you’ll follow me, please…”
None of them said a word, too nervous and excited about what they were about to witness, whom they were about to meet, though indirectly. They followed both Dumbledores along the gravel path that led up to the front door and waited patiently, as the memory Dumbledore rang the doorbell. Only a short time later, the door was opened and revealed a smaller, wiry man walking at a cane, with thin grey hair that was combed over his head to cover a bald spot. The man’s brown eyes widened, when he recognized the wizard in front of his door.
“Albus Dumbledore!” he exclaimed stunned, immediately stepping aside and ushering the wizard inside. Harry and the others followed him and Harry immediately felt cramped with eleven persons standing in the narrow hallway, even though nine of them weren’t actually there. “Headmaster! This is quite a surprise! To what do I owe this honour? Come in, come in…”
Harry sighed in relief, when this small man, he guessed that this was Norton Lewthwaite, limped into an adjourning room, obviously the living room. Norton Lewthwaite motioned to a group of armchairs assembled around a coffee table and he and Dumbledore sat down across from each other. Harry used this chance to look around this living room and was somewhat surprised. Although the houses all resembled those on Privet Drive, this living room certainly didn’t look at all like the living room of his aunt and uncle. The furniture was stuffy and comfortable-looking, dark wood and warm colours, with many knick knacks, both magical and Muggle, displayed on various shelves.
Among those things was a wizarding picture of two men “ one still a teenager while the other appeared to be around thirty - standing side by side and waving in the camera. Harry stepped closer, as he noticed something rather peculiar in this photo. Despite the difference in age, those men could pass as twins! It was more than the resemblance between a father and his son and the suddenly not so unlikely thought that it was one and the same person crossed his mind. His heart began to beat faster. So it really was true “ Norton Lewthwaite had travelled back in time.
“Tea, Headmaster?” Norton Lewthwaite suddenly asked, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. “I just made a pot. I hope you like Earl Grey?”
“Thank you, Mr. Lewthwaite,” Dumbledore said, the first time he had spoken since he had stepped into this house.
Lewthwaite waved his wand and another tea cup joined the one already standing on the table. He filled the other teacup with the steaming liquid and offered sugar and milk, both of which Dumbledore politely denied. Once both were seated comfortably and had taken the first sip of their teas, Lewthwaite finally said, “I really don’t want to seem impolite, Headmaster, but I’m sure that you’re not just here to have a cup of tea with me.”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore answered at length and placed his cup on the table. He pulled out his wand and placed a privacy charm around the room. Once he was sure that no one would be able to overhear what they were going to talk about, Dumbledore looked at him with a very serious expression on his face. “Mr. Lewthwaite, I’m here to talk to you about the spell Proferre Tempus.”
Harry noticed that Lewthwaite visibly tensed for a split second and he wasn’t the only one. The others with him, and especially the Albus Dumbledore in this memory, had noticed this as well.
“I have no idea, what you are talking about, Headmaster,” Lewthwaite replied, his voice shaking slightly. It was obvious to everyone in this room that this man didn’t know how to lie convincingly.
“Oh, I believe you do. I believe you don’t just know of this spell, but that you have used this on yourself.” Harry saw that Dumbledore’s eyes met Lewthwaite’s and he suddenly understood what the old wizard was doing. He didn’t know if he should be angry that he was using Legilimency or not. In his opinion it was still an invasion of someone’s privacy, but on the other hand it was helping them to find out if Norton Lewthwaite really did know about the spell or not. “As a matter of fact, I know that you have used this spell to travel back in time and have returned.”
With a resigned sigh, Norton Lewthwaite sagged deeper into the soft cushions of the armchair. “You rumbled me, Sir, and I’m not even going to ask, how you found out about this. I’m sure you wouldn’t tell me.”
“You are correct, Mr. Lewthwaite”, Dumbledore replied. “Furthermore I trust that my inquiring about this matter will stay between us. It is very important that you do not talk to anyone about this, otherwise I would see myself forced to obliviate you.”
“Of course, Headmaster”, Lewthwaite promised. “Now, I’m sure you do have some questions about this particular spell and my experience with it.”
Dumbledore smiled and nodded slightly. “If you were still at Hogwarts, I would probably award Hufflepuff five points. However, my source told me that you used this spell because you were, how should I say, discontented with your life.”
Lewthwaite chuckled bitterly and motioned with his hands around the room. “Whoever or whatever your source is, they are correct. After Hogwarts I had always dreamt of a better life, of doing great things, but unfortunately neither my OWLs nor my NEWTs had been good enough for an outstanding career. You know that I barely scraped an A on my Transfiguration NEWTs. See where it got me. I got an average job, I live in an average house and have an average life. I was just a few years out of Hogwarts and I was already bored of my life, so I decided that I had to change it. At first I didn’t know how, but then I remembered something I discovered during my OWLs studies.
“Back then I found a book in the library and I don’t even know why I took it out of the shelf, because there was no title and no author on the cover, but when I opened it I found a very interesting lecture about a spell called Proferre Tempus, a time travel spell. I was so captivated by the concept of time travel without a time turner, by the possibilities that were offered, that I decided to copy this information down. When I remembered those notes, I knew that this was the key to change my life.”
Norton Lewthwaite sighed, as he thought back to those times, and took another sip of his tea. He looked over to Dumbledore and Harry followed his gaze, seeing the wise wizard watching Lewthwaite with great interest. “Go on,” Dumbledore simply said.
The old time traveller put the cup back on the coffee table, before he eventually resumed his tale. “It took a few months of preparation, memorizing the wand movements and then waiting for the right moment “ you must know that this spell only works on the last day of a month and you can only travel back years, so you arrive on the exact day you left, only a few years in the past “ before I used this spell on myself. I travelled back, ten years to be precise, and arrived only a few days before my other self received his Hogwarts letter.
“I watched him, which was quite an experience, if I may say so, until Professor Dippet, I’m sure you remember that he was Deputy Headmaster back then, came to my parents’ house and informed him about my being a wizard. After that, I gave my younger self a few days to get used to the idea, until I confronted him, two weeks after I’d arrived in that time. He was a bit surprised to say the least, but after I’d explained my, our situation, he was more than willing to let me help him.
“I spent nine years in the past, guided him through Hogwarts and later through his apprenticeship at the Ministry and made sure that he would have good grades the whole time so that his future would be better than mine.” He sighed and wearily rubbed his eyes. “While I was doing this, I always thought that I would return to a future where everything was changed, but I was wrong. After nine years I came back… to the exact date when I left, but nothing had changed at all. I had aged nine years, but everything else was the same. I was still working as shop assistant, my flat was still a rathole and I…”
Harry heard a gasp coming from Hermione. Harry had understood this as well. The theory of the different timelines was true. Norton Lewthwaite had changed his life in another time, but his own had remained unchanged.
Lewthwaite sighed again, shaking his head. Seeing this, Harry felt a pang of pity rising up in him for this man. “The only good thing that I got out of this experiment was that, being several years older, I finally met a woman who didn’t know me from Hogwarts. Mildred and I married only one year later. She was truly the best thing that has ever happened to me and even though we had no children, we spent many happy years together. She passed away two years ago…”
Norton Lewthwaite trailed off, now looking forlornly out of the window. Feeling that it was quite inappropriate to be staring at him in a situation like this, knowing that this man didn’t know that he was being watched, Harry averted his eyes from him and once again looked around the room. He thought back to the revelation from only a few moments ago and his heart rose in his chest. He would be able to do something. He would be able to fight! No more sitting back and letting this time play out in front of him, no more feeling helpless. Voldemort wouldn’t know what hit him.
And more importantly, he could finally follow up on his promise...
Harry looked back to Lewthwaite and Dumbledore, just as the scene faded out around them and he found himself back in Dumbledore’s office. No one said anything, but it was obvious on their faces that they all had understood the importance of this memory.
Harry Potter’s eyes met Dumbledore’s and this time he couldn’t see the usual twinkle behind the old wizard’s half-moon glasses. Dumbledore knew what he was about to do, but he also knew that he couldn’t stop him. Not anymore. Turning around, Harry’s gaze rested on his parents. “We need to talk,” he simply said and just wanted to walk ahead and leave the office, as Dumbledore’s voice caused him to pause.
“Harry, one moment please. There’s one more thing I need to tell all of you. It’s about what needs to be done so that you are able to return home.”
“You don’t need me for that,” Harry just replied, without turning around. He simply looked at Ron, Draco and Hermione. The latter had tears in her eyes and Harry offered her a small smile, to comfort her, telling her that he was alright, but that he simply had to do this. “I’m sure the others will fill us in. This is now more important for me.”
“Of course, mate,” Ron said at once. “You go ahead. We’ll see you later.”
Harry gave him a grateful smile and clapped his friend on the shoulder, as he walked past him. “Thanks, Ron. I appreciate that.” The young man hesitated for a moment, before he cleared his throat. “You can tell your parents everything, if they want to know. We don’t need to keep secrets any longer.”
“Except for one,” Ron replied, winking at Harry, who immediately understood and couldn’t suppress a quiet chuckle, despite the gravity of the situation.
“You’re right… We shouldn’t tell you parents about that, yet. Or maybe not at all.” Harry chanced a glance at Arthur and Molly, who appeared to be a bit confused by this strange exchange of words. “Alright, I’ll see you later. Mum, dad?”
“We’re right behind you, Harry,” James said seriously. He had his arm wrapped around his wife’s waist and nodded at him to lead the way. Without another word, Harry and his parents left Dumbledore’s office.
This was probably the longest walk to the Room of Requirement that Harry had ever experienced, though it was probably just his mind playing tricks on him. His heart was beating fast and hard against his chest and his hands were sweaty. All those months he had waited for this moment, when he would finally tell his parents the truth.
But were they ready to hear the truth?
Harry almost stopped dead in his tracks, when this thought shot through his mind. What if they weren’t ready? And now that he thought about it, just how was he going to tell them? He had never not planned to tell his parents the harsh truth, once it was completely sure that his own time wouldn’t be changed by the events in his time, but he had never thought about the way how he was going to do this. How do you tell your parents that, if they didn’t do anything, they’d be dead in a year’s time? How do you tell them that Voldemort murdered them when you were one year old?
Well, ready or not, they were now standing in front of the door to the Room of Requirement, which had appeared out of thin air, after Harry had walked past the painting of Barnabas the Barmy three times. Taking a deep breath, Harry put his hand on the doorknob, opened the door and stepped inside. There was no turning back now.
The insides of the room represented the Gryffindor common room and Harry had to grin slightly. It was weird how his subconscious still chose this room as the place he felt most comfortable in. There was a fire roaring in the fireplace and three stuffy red armchairs were assembled around the fire. A small coffee table stood by the side with three steaming mugs. According to the smell wafting up to them those mugs were filled with hot chocolate.
“Bloody hell!” James exclaimed, once he was standing in the room and the door had fallen shut behind them. “This looks just like the common room!”
Harry’s grin widened, as he turned around. He just remembered that the Room of Requirement wasn’t recorded on the Marauders Map, so his father probably didn’t even know that it existed. “Welcome to the Come and Go Room, as the house-elves call it. The room’s official name is the Room of Requirement,” Harry explained to them. His mother had a look of wonder on her face, while she was looking around. From one second to another there was a tall bookshelf standing at the wall directly in front of her, obviously her doing.
“This is fantastic,” she breathed, tenderly caressing the shelf. “This magic…”
“That’s Hogwarts,” Harry simply said with a shrug, glad for the small distraction, although he knew that it wouldn’t last.
“I wonder, why we never found this room…” James mused quietly, slowly walking up to Harry. “I mean, we’ve found everything else. I hope you did tell my other self about this, so that the future Marauders could update the Map.”
Harry’s throat tightened painfully and the grin immediately vanished from his face. His parents immediately noticed the change in his mood and looked at him worriedly. “Maybe we should sit down,” he told them grimly.
None of them said a word, as they said down in the three armchairs around the fire. Harry looked down at his hands and a tense silence settled over them. The fire crackled in the fireplace, disturbing the silence. He knew that he needed to start, but he didn’t know how. It was just so hard.
“Harry?” The young man looked up, as he heard his mother’s soft voice. Her green eyes looked at him compassionately and she clasped his hands within hers. “Whatever it is you have to tell us, don’t be afraid. We can take it.” Harry gave her a look, as if asking ‘Are you sure?’, but the light smile on her face was so sincere, that he eventually nodded.
“Dad, mum,” he began hesitantly. “You-you said that you wanted to know… Before I begin, I just have to ask you again, do you really, I mean, really want to know? Everything?”
“Tell us, Harry…” his father nearly pleaded. “We’ve waited so long. Tell us what has happened in your time.”
“Alright,” Harry croaked, forcing him to clear his throat. “What I’m going to tell you now isn’t… you won’t like to hear it. Dad, you… he had already figured part of it out… You know that Voldemort gave me this scar,” Harry pulled his wild bangs aside to reveal the famous lightning bold. “You know that he was after me, but you don’t know yet why or when.”
Harry took another deep breath and recited the prophecy, the whole time looking at a golden spot in the back of the room, scared of seeing his parents’ reaction. Still, when he was finished, he heard his mother’s sharp intake of breath and the curse that left his father’s lips.
“There was an eavesdropper, I don’t know who,” he continued, now just wanting to get this painful tale over with. “He only heard the first half of the prophecy, but relayed it to Voldemort. Two boys were born at the end of July “ Neville, the son of the Longbottoms, and I. Voldemort thought that I would be the one. He chose me. He came for me on Halloween 1981, next year. We were in hiding, under the Fidelius Charm. You just cast it one week before the attack. But the Secret Keeper betrayed you, he told Voldemort where you were hiding.”
It was all simply blustering out of him. He couldn’t stop now. In a few minutes his parents would know everything and somehow Harry was sure that then some of the weight on his shoulders would be lifted.
“You didn’t expect it. You weren’t prepared.” Memories that usually only surfaced under the influence of a Dementor suddenly forced their way into his mind. He shivered despite the warmth of the fire. “He just blew up the door and came into our home. Dad, you tried to save mum and me. You told her to take me and run. You wanted to hold him off.” His voice sounded distant in his ears, but he continued, seeing everything in front of his inner eye. A flash of green light. “Voldemort killed you. Then he went after mum and me. We were hiding in my room. He gave you a choice, mum. You could give me up and live, but you didn’t. You protected me and he killed you.” Harry felt tears in his eyes and had to blink a few times to get rid off them. “Then Voldemort turned his wand on me. He cast the Killing Curse, but instead of killing me, it rebounded on him. He lost his body and fled. The Killing Curse gave me this scar.”
Harry finally looked at them, seeing their ghostly pale face. Silent tears were running down his mother’s cheeks, while his father was just shaking his head in disbelief. Suddenly James leapt up and kicked the bucket with the wooden logs, sending it crashing across the floor with a scream.
Silence, only the heavy breaths of his father were audible.
“How did you survive?” his mother’s quiet voice eventually asked. “I mean, the Killing Curse… No one survived it…”
“I’m the only one to survive this curse,” Harry informed his mother. “But it was your doing. You died to save me. Your love protected me, at least that’s what Dumbledore told me. But I believe him. You could have given me up and save your own life, but you didn’t. That saved my life.”
“I could never give you up, Harry. None of you. I would willingly give my life to save you,” Lily told him sincerely. “Thank you, Harry…For having been honest with us… This must have been hard for you… But who took you in? Sirius? Or was he…”
Lily trailed off, when she saw her son shaking his head. Harry looked at her and then at his father, who was still breathing harder than normal, but was otherwise regarding him calmly. “Hagrid arrived at the ruins of the house. He met Sirius there. Sirius… he had already found me in the rubble and was ready to take me to his home, but Hagrid had orders from Albus, to take me to Privet Drive…”
“No!” Lily cried outraged, but Harry acted as if he hadn’t heard her.
“Because your love saved my life, mum, I would be safe as long as I could call the place where your blood dwelled my home. Seeing as aunt Petunia was my only living relative from your side, Albus placed me with her.”
“But Sirius is your godfather,” James argued. “It was his right to take you in, to raise you. The Dursleys! I can’t believe it! It is explicitly stated in our will that you were to live with Sirius if something happened to us.”
“Sirius… he…” Harry hesitated, but then decided that he couldn’t keep this from them. It was too important. And sooner or later he would tell them anyway. “People thought that he was your Secret Keeper. Even Albus and Remus. They didn’t know that you switched at the last moment… Sirius was the most obvious choice. He insisted on switching…”
“What happened, Harry?” his father asked him, his voice slowly beginning to sound dangerous. “Who betrayed us?”
“Wormtail!” Harry spat, unable to keep the hatred and anger from his voice. “You made him Secret Keeper instead of Sirius. He sold you to his Lord. Sirius knew this and after he had given me to Hagrid, went after him. To make a long story short, Sirius confronted him, but Peter made a show in front of a lot of Muggles, accusing Sirius of killing you. Then he blew up the street, killing twelve of the Muggles in the process, cut off his finger and disappeared in the sewers. Sirius was sent to Azkaban without trial.”
“Peter?” Lily asked surprised, but James just exploded.
“I’m going to kill that rat!”
“James, please,” Lily begged, putting a comforting hand on his arm and gently pulling him down to sit on the armrest next to her. “Let Harry finish his story first.”
Harry wanted to laugh. His story. This wasn’t a story, this was his life. “Sirius escaped twelve years later, because he found out that Wormail was posing as pet rat to Ron. Everyone thought he came after me. I found out about everything at the end of my third year, but Sirius was still a fugitive and Wormtail had escaped. The rest of his life, Sirius was either on the run or locked up at Grimmauld Place. He died two years later. Bellatrix killed him.”
James closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Harry couldn’t imagine what one must feel after first being told that they were to die and then that their best friend would die as well, while a third friend would turn traitor. “What about Remus?”
“He’s alive,” Harry told them, immediately seeing the relief on their faces. “And he’s involved with a certain Nymphadora Tonks.”
“Tonksie? Sirius’ cousin?” James suddenly laughed out loud. “Remus and little Tonksie? She’s down for Hogwarts for next year, isn’t she?”
“I believe so…” Lily answered, also with a small smile on her face.
“This is unbelievable! The old wolf!”
Harry finally allowed a small smile on his face, glad that his parents had taken all this bad news as well as they had. But maybe, maybe it would just take some time for everything to sink in. He was sure that it wasn’t easy for someone to hear that they were going to die about ten months from now. Or maybe they were taking this as well as they were, because they could now prepare themselves. However, Harry was sure of one thing. As long as he was still living in this time, he would do everything in his power to protect his parents. If he managed to take down Voldemort as well while he was at it, all the better.
“Harry?” The young wizard looked up, when his father called his name. James had his hand extended to him and Harry took it, allowing himself to be pulled up and right into a strong and manly hug from his father. “I’m sorry you had to go through all this by yourself. But don’t worry, this time I won’t let Voldemort kill me. This time, I’ll make the right choices. We’ll find a way out of this.”
“Your father is right,” Lily agreed, smiling comfortingly. “We’ll find a way.”
James let go off him, but only a second later he was in his mother arms, burying his face in her shoulder, even though she was a few inches shorter than him. As she stroked through his wild hair, the dam that had been holding all his emotions for the last few months finally crumbled. First one, then another tear escaped his eyes and soon his shoulders were shaking with sobs.
His parents knew the truth. They knew that he had never really known them, that he had no real memories of them. And he somehow felt as if they planned to make up for all the lost years.
They were right. They would find a way. Voldemort wouldn’t get them this time.