All For You - Chapter 39
Chapter 39
Amelia could only stare at the destruction around her in a state of disbelief. Bodies were strewn about Diagon Alley, some partially buried under the debris of destroyed buildings, and others broken and mangled by whatever they had fallen victim to.
“Fucking hell, it looks like a bomb hit the place,” Moody growled.
Amelia could only nod in response as she shuddered from the cold permeating the air.
“Harry,” she whispered worriedly, realising he was nowhere in sight.
“He was here?”
“He was with me when the message came through,” Amelia answered, searching for any sign of him.
“This is Jameson, Bones,” Moody said comfortingly. “If anyone…”
“Don’t!” Amelia snapped angrily, unable to prevent the panic from setting in. “Look around, Moody! Anything could’ve happened to him.”
Alastor nodded.
“Then let’s find him,” he urged. “Come on, he has to be here somewhere.”
It was a frantic Amelia that began doing so, dreading to approach every still-warm body scattered around them.
Relief flooded her briefly when each person they passed proved not to be him, but she could not shift the feeling of dread that filled her. Given the number of dead and collapsed buildings, she knew that he could still be amongst them.
“EVERYONE GATHER ROUND!”
She didn’t know how long they’d been searching before Grimm’s voice rang out across the alley, and it was reluctantly that she joined her fellow Aurors.
“The team from the Department of Magical Catastrophes will be here shortly,” Grimm announced. “In the meantime, we are to set up a cordon and prevent anyone from entering the area.”
“What about the Dementors?” Moody asked.
“They have left Azkaban,” Grimm confirmed. “The prisoners are secure, but we will need to double the guard for the foreseeable future. Anyone willing to volunteer, give your name to Smith when he arrives.”
There wouldn’t be many who would do so, and Amelia couldn’t bring herself to care.
She was worried about Harry, and as she continued searching for him among the dead, she realised that she’d never been more terrified at the thought of losing someone.
To her, Harry had always been an invincible being who had picked her up when she needed it, and she did not want to consider the thought of no longer having him around.
No, she couldn’t think that way.
He had to be alright.
Harry wouldn’t leave her.
Amelia released a deep breath to compose herself.
It wasn’t easy, but she knew she could not lose herself in thoughts that might not be true.
For now, she had a job to do, and though it wouldn’t be easy, she refused to believe that Harry was here lying among the dead.
(Break)
The Dark Lord’s temper was simmering, and an uneasy silence had fallen amongst his most trusted as they pondered what had happened. In all, their endeavour had been quite the success, but it had not come without leaving a bitter taste in the mouth.
Jameson.
Once again, the man had interfered in the Dark Lord’s affairs, and he’d proven himself to be quite the nuisance.
To have the audacity to involve himself was one thing, but to prove himself capable of holding his own in a fight was another.
Jameson was a dangerous man. Lord Voldemort knew this, but he’d not anticipated just how deadly a threat he posed.
He was a problem needing to be solved, but what seemed to be unsettling his companions more was the presence of the other man who’d arrived.
His presence was unnerving, to say the least.
An unnatural coldness seemed to linger around him, and the glowing, green eyes were quite unsettling for any who did not consider that it was merely smoke and mirrors.
What did trouble the Dark lord, however, was the form of the man’s patronus.
A basilisk.
He’d spent enough time around one of the creatures to know he’d not been mistaken in what he’d seen.
“The Serpent,” Yaxley said worriedly. “It was him.”
Voldemort shook his head irritably.
“I have no interest in fairy tales from the continent.”
“My Lord, it is him! I..”
“You?” Voldemort pressed.
Yaxley swallowed deeply.
“He… Well, I may have met him.”
“You may have met him. When?” the Dark Lord asked.
Yaxley’s brow glistened with perspiration.
“He… he came to my home after Bones was kidnapped. He told me I had to leave her alone.”
“You let a stranger into your home?”
Yaxley shook his head.
“He broke in…twice.”
The others were suddenly nervous by the revelation, and the Dark Lord could not deny that he felt disturbed by it also.
“He managed to break in twice?” Lestrange demanded to know.
Yaxley nodded.
“After the first time, I spent thousands having my protections improved, but he did it again.”
“And you didn’t think to mention it?”
“He told me he would kill me!” Yaxley protested.
“You are certain it was him and not Jameson?” Voldemort questioned.
“That coldness,” Yaxley murmured. “It was the same as his.”
“But Jameson has it too,” Voldemort mused aloud. “I felt it that night in the Ministry.”
“There’s more,” Yaxley replied sheepishly. “The man who broke into my home was a Parselmouth. He threatened me with a snake, and he spoke to it.”
The Dark Lord felt his anger bubble to the surface once more.
“And you kept that from me?” he snapped. “You damned fool.”
“My Lord, you have to understand…”
“Crucio!”
Yaxley crumbled to the ground, and his screams reverberated off the wall as the Dark Lord unleashed his fury on the man.
When he finally relented, Yaxley simply whimpered and convulsed where he’d fallen.
“I want to know everything you can discover about the Serpent!” Voldemort demanded.
“What about Jameson?” Avery asked.
“Him too. I want to know everything, even if it doesn’t seem important. Something is not right about this.”
Lord Voldemort was concerned, and his trepidation only grew the more he pondered the two men.
Their magic was undeniably similar, and from what he’d seen, they even looked alike.
Something was amiss, and he was determined to find out before it affected his efforts any further.
(Break)
He looked around the modest home he found himself in and didn’t miss that it had been neglected for some time. There were no photos of family members, and it was sparsely decorated.
“I bought the place years ago and haven’t been here much. I think I only wanted it for nostalgic reasons. I left Britain behind almost thirty years ago.”
Seeing him up close, he could see that this Harry was close to twenty years older than him. He didn’t look old by any means, but he was certainly more mature.
“Why did you leave?” Harry asked curiously. “How did you even come to be here?”
The man released a deep breath.
“I did something stupid,” he admitted. “It was shortly before my sixteenth birthday. I watched as Sirius was killed by Bellatrix, and I found a time-turner in my robes a few hours later. I thought I could, well, you know.”
“You thought you could go back and save him.”
The other Harry nodded.
“Six turns,” he snorted humourlessly. “Instead of six hours, I was sent back six decades. I arrived in Britain in the late nineteen thirties. What about you?”
“I’ve been here almost five years,” Harry answered. “Fawkes somehow used the magic of the veil and brought me back. I still don’t get how, but here I am.”
The other Harry was quite surprised by the revelation.
“So, you finished Hogwarts?”
Harry nodded grimly.
“I managed to kill Riddle, and then the world became a very lonely place,” he explained. “I ended up working for the same department that stores the prophecies. I was there when I was sent back. I had no intention of involving myself in anything. I just wanted a life of peace. Maybe I should’ve left Britain, but I didn’t.”
“I did,” the other Harry said with a smile. “When I used the time turner, I was in my dormitory, and I knew something was wrong the moment I arrived. None of my roommates were there; it was still dark, and none of the beds had been slept in. It was almost midnight, and I just knew something wasn’t right.”
“What happened?” Harry asked.
“I put my cloak on and went into the common room. There was a mostly naked girl whom I didn’t recognise, and I spotted a copy of The Daily Prophet on the table. I saw the date and realised what had happened. I knew there was no way of going forward in time, and I wanted nothing to do with Dumbledore and the damned prophecy. I left Hogwarts with what little I had with me. It took me two days of wandering around to shake myself from my shock. I had my trunk and only thirty galleons.”
“Bloody hell,” Harry sighed.
The other Harry chuckled.
“I realised I could have a fresh start, but for that, I needed more gold. Ron had given me a book with a historical backlog of Quidditch scores, so I placed bets and ended up winning a fortune over the course of the summer. I managed to find somewhere I could buy fake identification papers, and when I had them, I left Britain.”
“Where did you go?”
“France,” the other Harry said with a smile. “I enrolled at Beaxubatons, invested my gold in stocks I knew would do well, and continued betting on the side. Before graduating, I applied for a role with the Hit-Wizards. I should’ve known better, but my life became dull without the danger and risk I was used to. It was during my short time as a Hit-Wizard that I met my Eleanor.”
“Your Eleanor?”
“My wife,” the man said with such fondness. “She’d gotten into the habit of robbing branches of Gringotts across the continent, and I figured out how she was doing it. When I caught her, I decided to let her go, and I fell in love with her.”
Harry snorted amusedly, but the other Harry’s expression darkened.
“Soon enough, the reputation I had cultivated for myself came back to bite me on the arse,” he confessed. “I thought I could end the war against Grindelwald, and I involved myself too much. Grindelwald learned who I was, and Eleanor was kidnapped. In order to ensure her safe return, I was to withdraw from the conflict, not involve myself in any future conflict unless my life was in imminent danger, and remain silent about what I learned during my investigations. Grindelwald’s war was just the beginning, And I can only assume you are on the same dangerous path I was before being discovered. You found Broz, and you would not have done so if you weren’t.”
“You mean the countries who were going to defect and join Grindelwald.”
The other Harry winced as he nodded.
“I cannot say anymore on the matter, and you are in too deep to simply walk away from it. I can assure you that they already know who you are and are taking steps to silence you.”
“Would that include hiring a private investigator to look into me?”
The other Harry frowned and nodded.
“They are looking for any pattern in your movements, any weakness they can exploit. The men who will come for you are among the very best. You say you worked for the Department of Mysteries, and I know that you are now working for the same outfit I did. These people have such others at their disposal. They will come for you.”
“Or I will find them,” Harry returned. “I’m not like you. I have no intention of running and hiding from it.”
The other Harry glowered at him.
“Have you ever been in love?” he asked. “Have you ever cared so deeply about someone that you would happily watch the world burn to see them safe and happy? You said the world became a lonely place after you defeated Riddle. Is it still so lonely now?”
Harry swallowed deeply as he shook his head, and his thoughts inevitably wandered to the redheaded Auror.
“No,” he admitted unashamedly. “I found someone who knows nothing of the life I lived before I came here. She doesn’t care about the fame I once had or anything else. To her, I’m just the half-blooded Harry Jameson. She knows I am a Hit Wizard and that I teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts.”
“And if she knew of all of this and asked you to walk away for her, would you do it? If she told you that you would never see her again if you continued doing what you are doing, would you stop?”
“I’m doing this for her.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Harry released a deep breath before nodding.
“I would,” he answered sincerely.
“Then you can understand why I did it so easily,” the other Harry said sadly. “I walked away from it all for her. Was it selfish? Yes, but I do not regret it. I have my Eleanor and three wonderful children, and I have not looked back until I learned that someone had gone looking for Broz. I didn’t expect this,” he chuckled, gesturing between the two of them, “but I suppose it all had to catch up with me in the end. Can I give you a piece of advice?”
“Are you going to tell me to hide?”
“No, it’s too late for that,” the other Harry reiterated. “It’s about your position. You said she doesn’t know about anything.”
“Amelia?”
“Amelia Bones?”
Harry nodded.
“Bloody hell, it sounds as though you have your hands as full as mine,” the other Harry returned amusedly. “You should tell her everything. It took me the better part of ten years to tell Eleanor, and it only ate away at me. I almost lost her because, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t move on from my past, and you won’t be able to either. It will eat away at you.”
“It already does,” Harry admitted. “I live this life and know all of these things that are going to happen. It feels so…”
“Lonely,” the other Harry broke in knowingly. “If you love her, you should tell her the truth. Let her in, and if she loves you, it will make all of it all that much better. You won’t have everything hanging over you. There can’t be such a deep secret in a relationship. I almost learned that the hard way.”
Harry nodded his understanding.
“Three children?” he asked.
The other Harry smiled proudly as he removed his wallet.
“My boy is in his final year at Durmstrang, and my two daughters already graduated. The woman is my wife, and I wouldn’t be where I am now without her.”
Harry looked at the picture, and he couldn’t ignore how odd it felt to see someone resembling him so closely living something of a normal life and doing so with such happiness.
“You can have this too,” the man murmured. “If you want it bad enough, you can have it.”
“Not if I’m dead.”
The other Harry chuckled.
“You’ve already beaten the odds once, and something tells me you might just do it again. Besides, you’re not alone in it anymore.”
“You’re going to help me?”
“As much as I can. I will not put my family in danger, but I expect that there are a few things I can help you with along the way.”
Harry nodded appreciatively.
“So, where do we begin?”
“Meet me back here in two days’ time,” the other Harry instructed. “It will give us both some time to process all of this, and we can discuss anything else we need to. I think we both need clear heads before we move forward. In the meantime, talk to her. Take it from someone who has seen what it will do to you both if you don’t.”
Harry nodded as he stood.
“In two days?”
“In two days,” the other Harry confirmed.
With that, Harry apparated away, his head full of things he’d never thought would plague him.
The evening had been strange, to say the least, and he, indeed, needed time to process everything that had happened.
(Break)
Somehow, Azkaban felt more eerie without the Dementors, and without the effects of the creatures, the prisoners had quickly become an insolent rabble.
They kicked at the cell doors and shouted obscenities as Smith and the head guard of the prison passed, and some even spat at the men.
“What are we going to do?” Finkel asked.
“We tell the truth,” Smith murmured. “We tell the people that the Dementors have defected and joined Riddle’s cause. They must be prepared, as must the new recruits. I’m going to have them trained to handle the Dementors.”
Finkel shook his head.
“The patronus is no easy spell.”
“No, but I know just the man to help them,” Smith replied, breathing a sigh of relief.
Jameson had successfully taught all of the Aurors how to cast a corporeal patronus, and he would do so again.
“What of the prisoners?”
Smith looked around the expanse of the prison and listened to the threats of violence.
“We are going to triple the guard,” he explained. “The prisoners will have to be dealt with in small batches. I will not have anyone needlessly attacked. Stun them to put food in their cells if necessary. Other than that, they should be left to rot unless there are medical needs. Even then, I urge caution, Finkel. You know as well as I do what some of this lot are in here for. I suppose we should be grateful that Riddle didn’t try to free them.”
“He still might.”
“Then that is something I will prepare for,” Smith declared. “If there is anything else you can think of, do not hesitate to let me know. I will have two dozen Aurors here within the next hour or so.”
Finkel nodded appreciatively, and Smith made his way towards the exit.
He’d not expected such a move from Riddle, and now that it had occurred, a deep sense of dread filled him.
He was due to retire in just a few weeks, and though he’d not been deterred from doing so, he could not deny it was tempting to remain in post just a little longer.
Putting an end to Riddle’s regime would be quite the final feather in his cap, but he would not risk everything for the plaudits.
No, he knew it was time to step down, and he would do so as intended.
(Break)
She paced frantically in front of the fireplace, her eyes drifting intermittently towards the large clock on the wall. Harry had been gone for more than twenty-four hours now, and it was unlike him to do so without making contact.
Those days were long behind them, and it made her more nervous knowing where he was going.
It wasn’t often he ventured to Britain, and he had not done so in many years. Even now, after so long, she felt the same nervousness grip her at the thought of what could happen to her husband.
Harry James Potter.
She had met and knew him as Harry Evans, half-blood and Hit-Wizard who’d apprehended her in Spain.
What had been little more than a few fun escapades on her part could’ve resulted in her being sent to prison for a long time.
Harry had not arrested her.
Instead, he’d let her go, and Eleanor could not deny that she had been immediately enamoured with his own mischievous side and apparent magical brilliance.
He’d had this air about him that she couldn’t explain. It was a quiet confidence and something deadlier than she’d ever encountered. It made for an intriguing combination, and instead of cutting her losses and thanking her lucky stars, she’d pursued him in the hope that the spark she’d felt had not been one-sided.
It hadn’t, and after something of a whirlwind romance, the two had been married within the year.
Then came the kidnapping.
The memory of being snatched in the night by Grindelwald made her shudder, but as he had since, Harry had been there for her.
Upon being released, their lives had changed irrevocably, and though she did not doubt that her husband did not regret what he’d done to ensure her safety, he’d lost a little of that mischief and warning that made him who he was.
He’d been all but neutered and forced to watch as the rest of the war unfolded without him.
When it was done, the sparkle had somewhat returned, but he’d never quite been the same.
Eleanor loved her husband dearly and did not take for granted all he’d given up for her. She just wished there was something she could do to make the sacrifice feel more worthwhile.
She’d given Harry three children, but she knew he missed elements of the life he’d once lived.
It had become second nature for him to be so close to danger and to even seek it out when it was lacking.
For him to lose that was quite the blow, even if he had adjusted to a more pedestrian life.
“Harry?” Eleanor called as the front door closed.
Her tired husband entered the living room and offered her a smile.
“What have you been doing?” she asked worriedly, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Well, I did intend on going just to have a look around the old place to see how much it had changed.”
“But?” Eleanor pressed.
“Voldemort decided to attack Diagon Alley when I was there,” Harry answered darkly. “I’m fine. I had to fight some Dementors off, and I unintentionally bumped into him.”
“Voldemort?”
“And the other me.”
Eleanor swallowed deeply.
“What happened?”
Harry deflated as he shook his head.
“He fought Voldemort off. He already killed him once before being sent back in time.”
“So, it’s definitely you?”
Harry nodded.
“Yes, but things were different for him,” he explained. “He’s been here for almost five years now. He killed Voldemort, finished school, and even became an Unspeakable before Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix, brought him back.”
“Do you think he is here to fulfil the prophecy?” Eleanor asked hopefully.
Harry nodded.
“I do,” he confirmed, “but I can’t help but feel guilty for it. He already won his war, and now he’s taking on another and trying to do what I couldn’t.”
“The Grindelwald thing?” Eleanor asked, unable to hide her concern.
“Exactly,” Harry sighed. “I think he can do it.”
“Really?”
“He’s good, El. There are things I can teach him, but I think he will succeed where I failed.”
“You didn’t fail, Harry. You were forced to stop.”
“I know,” Harry grumbled. “Things went as they did for a reason, and my path led me to you. I have no regrets, but he will need my help.”
“Can you help him?”
“I think I can,” Harry answered. “I feel less burdened by the vow I gave since speaking with him. With Grindelwald and the others still alive, I’ll be limited, but so long as I don’t directly involve myself in what he is doing, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“So, you’re going to help him?”
“As much as I can,” Harry replied. “I owe him that, and maybe I can finally be free of my guilt. He deserves the help, and I deserve to see it through to the end as best I can. I promised you twenty years ago that I would find a way to put an end to them all, and I might just have found it.”
His eyes glowed almost eerily, and Eleanor felt the familiar chill radiating from him.
Something of what Harry had lost so many years ago was back, and it filled her with hope that they would finally get the closure they sought.
(Break)
She hadn’t arrived home until past three am, and yet, there was still no sign of Harry. Amelia had managed to convince herself that he’d be waiting for her, and yet, he wasn’t.
The concern she’d put to the back of her mind whilst helping to clean up Diagon Alley was back, and it only grew with each passing minute.
He’d not been found among the dead or injured, so what had happened to him?
Amelia was on the cusp of reporting him missing when she sensed his arrival and all but sprinted into the entrance hall, throwing her arms around him tightly as she breathed a sigh of relief.
“What happened to you?” she whispered, cupping his cheeks a little tighter than she’d intended.
He offered a tired smile, though he looked to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Too much,” he murmured cryptically. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Amelia said dismissively. “When I got there and couldn’t find you…”
Her voice cracked, and the myriad of emotions she’d held back came forth.
It wasn’t often she gave into the weakness of tears, but they fell freely now, and Harry held her close to his chest.
“I thought something had happened to you,” she choked.
“It did,” Harry murmured, “just not today.”
“What do you mean?” Amelia asked with a frown.
Harry released a deep breath as he shook his head.
“Honestly, I don’t know where to begin.”
Amelia looked up to see Jameson's expression of worry, which she’d never seen before. She’d seen him concerned and even troubled but not so… fearful? as he was now.
“Harry, you know you can tell me anything,” she said comfortingly. “After everything we’ve been through these past few years, there’s not a thing you can’t share with me.”
He swallowed deeply as he nodded.
“I suppose the easiest way of saying it is that I’m not quite who you think I am,” he said tentatively. “I’m still me, but there’s more to it.”
Amelia frowned confusedly.
“I’m lost.”
“I don’t even think you’ll understand it when I explain everything,” Harry chuckled humourlessly. “Maybe I should start with how I ended up here. I was an Unspeakable working for the Department of Mysteries. There was an accident of sorts or an intervention of fate. I don’t even know which anymore.”
“I thought you were a Hit-Wizard.”
“I am,” Harry confirmed. “I am now employed by the International Confederation of Warlocks as a Hit-Wizard, but that is something recent. Before that, I was a Master of Magicks and War employed by the Ministry of Magic. I worked in the field identifying potential lynchpins which could cause war and put preventative measures in place to ensure it didn’t happen. A part of my job was to locate and eliminate Dark Wizards, artefacts, and volatile magicks which could be used to harm society. Although I was employed directly by the Department of Mysteries, I worked all over the world.”
Amelia was lost for words.
She knew that Jameson was an excellent wizard and had seen that for herself, but she’d not expected his experience to run so deep.
“Merlin, that sounds like a dangerous job,” she murmured.
Harry nodded, though he didn’t seem unburdened by what was bothering him.
“Is there something else?”
“That’s just the beginning,” he sighed. “There’s Riddle.”
“Riddle?”
“I know him so well because I already killed him,” Harry explained.
“But he’s alive.”
“Because this is a different Riddle. I know I’m not explaining well, I’m just trying to find a way of doing it without freaking you out. It’s hard to explain something I don’t understand, let alone trying to get you to.”
“Then why don’t you tell me the most difficult part,” Amelia urged, her hand tightening around his.
She felt a dreadful sense of trepidation with how little sense Harry was making, and she couldn’t fathom how difficult this was for him.
He nodded once more.
“I killed Tom Riddle in the year 1998.”
Amelia understood the words she heard, but they didn’t make sense to her.
She blinked as she looked at Harry, who had almost frozen, and he looked at her with an expression of anticipation.
“Time travel,” she whispered in realisation. “You went forward in time to kill him?”
Harry shook his head.
“I came back in time by around twenty years,” he corrected. “You were there with Moody the night I arrived. I unintentionally set an alarm off in the Department of Mysteries when I was sent back.”
“That was you?”
Harry nodded.
“Strictly speaking, I should’ve reported to the department, but I didn’t. After everything I went through growing up, my life didn’t get any better. I wanted a fresh start, and I saw what happened as the chance to do that. I suppose I wanted some normality away from the fame and the misery it brought me.”
“Fame?”
“I became famous the night my parents were murdered,” Harry explained. “I was the first and only person to survive the killing curse that Riddle cast at me. I only became more famous over the years for other things, and then when I killed him, it was unbearable. Even before that, I couldn’t walk through Diagon Alley without people wishing me well and wanting an autograph. I hated it. I just wanted to be left alone, and I was never allowed that. After I killed Riddle, I mostly lived in the muggle world and then accepted a job with the Department of Mysteries when they offered it.”
Amelia was dumbstruck.
She wasn’t sure if this was an elaborate joke, but not even Jameson would take something like this so far.
“I don’t what to say,” she admitted. “I’m just…”
“I know,” Harry comforted. “I know it is a lot to take in, and I don’t expect you to understand or even accept it, but if anyone deserves to know the truth, it’s you. I never intended things to get to where they are between us, and I didn’t keep it from you to deceive you or be malicious. Things have changed more than I’d anticipated, and it’s not something I can keep to myself any longer.”
“Did you want to keep it to yourself?” Amelia asked, trying to process what she had learned.
“It would’ve been easier in some ways,” Harry admitted. “This was supposed to be a new life for me away from it all, but it’s all caught up to me again.”
Amelia nodded.
She couldn’t deny she felt somewhat betrayed and even disappointed that Harry didn’t feel he could trust her with his secrets.
She understood that this wasn’t a normal secret, like having an uncle in prison for murdering muggles, but it still stung.
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“More than I can even think of right now,” Harry replied tiredly. “It would be easier to show you,” he added thoughtfully as he summoned his pensieve.
He placed dozens of strands in the stone bowl, and as Amelia tried to protest, he held up a hand.
“I don’t want to keep any of this from you anymore, Amelia,” he said soberly. “I want you to see it for yourself, and then maybe you’ll understand it better. Before you go in, I suppose I should introduce myself to you. My name is Harry James Potter, and I was born on July 31st, 1980.”
“Potter?” Amelia gasped. “As in…?”
Harry nodded.
“Charlus Potter is my grandfather, and his son James is my father.”
Amelia could only stare at him in disbelief.
Now that he’d said it, she could see the resemblance between the two men, and the admission left her speechless. Once again, were it not for the solemn, defeated tone of his voice, she would think him to be pulling an elaborate joke.
No, this was real, and before she could continue questioning Harry, he gestured towards the pensieve.
“Please,” he murmured. “Seeing it for yourself will explain it better than I ever could.”
Amelia swallowed deeply.
A part of her wished to flee, to pretend this conversation had never happened or that it had merely been a dream, a figment of her imagination.
However, she couldn’t bring herself to do so.
Despite everything, she loved this man, and given the uncharacteristic sombreness of his countenance, Harry was just as terrified as Amelia.
With a nod, though unable to bring herself to say anything, she approached the stone bowl and readied herself to learn the truth that had been kept from her.
Looking towards Harry a final time, she dived in to be met by the sight of a black-haired, green-eyed baby, facing a man pointing his wand towards him.
The man was laughing joyously as he stepped over the unmoving body of a redheaded woman.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Amelia thought that nothing could be as bad as seeing a helpless infant murdered, but she was quickly proved wrong as the memories began to unfold around her.
(Break)
He didn’t feel that a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.
If anything, the guilt that had niggled away at him for the past year or so had only worsened upon seeing the expression of betrayal Amelia wore when he’d come clean to her.
Maybe he’d deluded himself into believing that never having to reveal his past would not cause him problems, but having discussed it with the other Harry, strange though in itself, the man's words had resonated with him so deeply.
He’d seen the torment in his eyes that keeping the secret from his own wife had caused, and Harry had experienced enough torment.
The option of living a peaceful life away from Voldemort and the war he’d brought onto himself had been unrealistic the moment he’d taken his first steps into preventing the rise of the Dark Lord, but Harry had been too naïve to see it.
When it came to Amelia, he had not intended to fall in love so deeply with the vivacious woman, and yet it had happened.
He couldn’t be certain when, but if he pondered what his life would be like without her, he realised it would be empty.
Harry had always been content in his own company and had never felt the need to have people around him. Perhaps it was merely a product of his isolated upbringing or the attention he never craved being given to him when he was at his worst.
Being too tired to consider it, he realised neither reason truly mattered.
Amelia had come into his life with no expectations of him and none of the hero-worship he’d been subjected to.
She wanted Harry only for who he was, not all the quite unbelievable things he’d done.
If his omission had squandered it, then so be it, but he wouldn’t deny that he hoped she could see past the unintended betrayal.
He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself.
Harry had stopped pitying his position long ago.
He released a deep breath as he checked his watch.
She’d been inside the pensive for a few hours now, and every moment seemed to drag on for an eternity. Somehow, he felt like a prisoner readying himself to be led to the gallows, but it wasn’t his head he would be losing.
The sun had risen by the time Amelia emerged from the pensieve, and she looked exhausted, horrified, and just as broken as Harry had often felt throughout his life.
Evidently, she’d been crying, and she seemed torn on how to react.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he assured her.
Amelia swallowed deeply as she nodded.
“None of this changes how I feel about you,” she assured him, offering Harry a watery but weak smile. “I think I just need some time to process everything I’ve seen. You’ve lived a spectacular life, and it’s a miracle that you’re still here.”
“I’ve been lucky.”
“Sometimes,” Amelia agreed, “you don’t give yourself enough credit for the things you’ve done. I can’t put into words how proud I am of you, Harry, and grateful for everything you’ve done for me. You always deserved better than you had.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a chaste yet passionate kiss on his lips.
“I just need some time,” she reiterated.
Harry nodded as she gave him a final, appraising look before making her way to the fireplace and vanishing a moment later.
What was to come of them, he didn’t know, but Harry already felt just that little emptier without Amelia here with him, where she’d been for longer than he cared to remember.