Avalon - Chapter 50 - A New World

A New World

The members of the Order of the Phoenix remained in a stunned silence as they entered the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, and Sirius sat at the head of the table, his gaze not leaving the face of his godson, or the man claiming to be Harry.

He didn’t appear to be at all nervous as he was placed under such intense scrutiny, and as he took a seat next to the woman proclaiming to be his wife, he said nothing.

It was a few moments later that a flustered Albus joined them, pausing at the door and staring at Harry before shaking his head.

“Cornelius is rallying,” he announced. “I expect he will be in touch shortly in an attempt to salvage the tatters of his career.”

The man had indeed been blindsided, so much so, that he’d not even taken notice of Sirius’s presence in the Ministry of Magic, well what remained of it.

The other members murmured their own responses, but their attention was fixed solely on one man.

“Now, Harry,” Albus continued cautiously. “You will forgive me for me reticence, but can you explain how it is you are here now, and..”

“Much older than you should be,” Remus broke in.

Harry chuckled.

“I doubt you would believe me if I told you,” he said with a shrug, “but I can prove who I am. Mr Weasley, the morning after Ron, Fred, and George used your car to bring me to The Burrow, you asked me what the function of rubber duck is, and before I left The Leaky Cauldron for my third year at Hogwarts, you pulled me aside, where you urged me not to go looking for Sirius.”

Arthur nodded as the others looked at him.

“I did,” he whispered.

“Sirius, before I faced the dragon in the first task, I spoke to you using the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, and the night we discovered Pettigrew, you asked me if I would like to live with you when we cleared your name.”

The smile the man wore was so genuine, and reminded Sirius of both James and Lily that it was painful.

He could only nod in response.

“Dumbledore, after the incident in the Chamber of Secrets, I was terrified at how similar I was to Tom Riddle, and you told me that it is not the similarities that matter, but the differences between us that count. If that isn’t enough, when I woke up in the Hospital Wing after what happened with Quirrell, you took one of my Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. It was earwax.”

Albus smiled fondly, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the kitchen.

“Remus, you taught me how to cast the patronus charm throughout my third year. When it was discovered that you were a werewolf, I came to see you in your office whilst you were packing. As always, you gave me some useful advice and returned something very special to me.”

“Bloody hell, it really is you, Harry,” Remus choked. “How?”

“I believe that is something we would all like to know,” Albus broke in. “We searched everywhere possible for you, Harry.”

Harry nodded.

“I was taken during the second task,” he explained, “to another world entirely, where time evidently moves faster than it does here. What year is it?”

“1997, you should be seventeen now.”

Harry released a deep breath.

“So, around three years here,” he murmured. “I have been gone for close to ten. I am twenty-four now.”

Those gathered around the table looked towards Albus, who frowned thoughtfully.

“It is one thing to travel through time by hours or even a day or so, but you were taken to another place entirely. Dimensional travel is just a theory, but there is substance in it.”

“You came from the veil,” Sirius pointed out, still in an utter state of disbelief at what had happened. “Could it be…”

“It will not take you anywhere,” Harry warned. “It was used to send us here because the magic was capable of being utilised in such a way that it could, but only because of its power. Any who step through it without the correct guidance of something able to do so will simply die.”

Silence met his statement, and Sirius could only shake his head.

“You sounded so much like your mother then, Harry. I…”

He broke off, not knowing what to say.

“What can you tell us of this new world?” Albus asked curiously.

“It’s where I met my wife.”

“She’s really your wife?” Sirius asked.

“This is my Morgana,” Harry said proudly.

She was a beautiful young woman, even if her thick, black hair and silvery eyes were almost reminiscent of some of the women in his own family.

“I just can’t believe you’re bloody married,” Sirius sighed. “I’ve missed so much. Any children?”

“Not yet, but there will be soon enough when we are able to settle without Harry constantly going to war.”

“War?” Albus asked.

“It seems that no matter where I go, there’s a war to be fought. Home is no different. You didn’t think I learned to fight by reading books, did you? For most of the last decade I’ve been at war. This is just another one I need to finish.”

“Something I fear has only been made more difficult,” Albus said apologetically. “The Dark Lord…”

“Didn’t get the prophecy,” Harry interjected, removing the glass orb from within his robes. “I expect he’ll be pissed off when he realises I stole it from him.”

The members of the Order could only stare at him in astonishment, and Sirius remembered what he’d seen upon Harry’s arrival.

He and his wife had sent the Death Eaters running, but not before killing several of them, and even taking Malfoy’s hand.

Evidently, the others seemed to be pondering the very same thing, and a sense of unease fell over those gathered.

“I am not here for diplomacy or to negotiate,” Harry said darkly. “I have had to kill countless men over the years, either with a wand, a sword, and even my bare hands. Tom and his followers will be no different. You should never engage in violence unless you are willing to take a life because you have to assume your enemies will not hesitate to do so.”

“Who taught you that, Harry?” Molly Weasley asked.

“Godric and Salazar.”

Sirius could only imagine that he was looking at his godson as though he’d been dropped here from another planet, and in this case, it seemed to be not so far from the truth.

“As in Gryffindor and Slytherin?” Kingsley scoffed.

Harry nodded.

“Where I arrived, Hogwarts is in its infancy. I was taught all I know by Godric, Salazar, Helga, and Rowena.”

“You know the Founders of Hogwarts?” Remus gasped. “Surely you jest.”

Harry shook his head.

“I do not jest. When I was taken, I woke up in the castle, and it was them that were there to greet me. They allowed me to stay, and they taught me all I know now. None of them are as History here tells it. Salazar is not such a bigoted git, and Godric is not always a brash, arrogant fool. They are people just like anyone else, more brilliant than you can imagine, and as flawed as any other you will meet.”

“So, you are around one thousand years behind us?” Albus mused aloud.

“Give or take.”

The headmaster leaned back in his chair, seemingly as lost for words as the rest of them.

Sirius searched Harry’s features for any sign that he was joking, but there was none.

“I have more questions than I can voice,” Albus sighed.

“And there are not so many I will answer. I am here to finish what was started more than twenty years ago for me, and then I must return home. There is still much for me to do.”

“But you are home, Harry,” Sirius pointed out.

Harry released a deep breath.

“We have time to talk about everything else,” he said, changing the subject. “I expect we will be here for a while.”

“Then you will stay here,” Sirius insisted. “I’ll have Kreacher prepare some rooms.”

“One will be fine.”

Sirius opened his mouth to protest before shaking his head.

This would certainly take some getting used to, but Harry was no mere boy anymore. He was a man grown and had even saved their lives.

Sirius expected he had many stories to tell, and as Harry said, there would be time to hear them.

“Drink?” he asked.

Harry grinned and summoned the bottle of Firewhiskey from one of the counters.

“I’ve always wondered what this is like,” he said curiously, pulling the cork and taking a sip before handing it to his wife.

She too took a drink and nodded approvingly, whilst the others looked on bemusedly, though before anyone could comment, a house-elf appeared next to Dumbledore.

“Headmaster, the Minister is calling you in the fireplace.”

Albus huffed as he stood and was followed by Harry.

“He will want to speak with me too, won’t he?”

“I expect so,” Albus said apologetically.

“Well, it’s best that we get it over with.”

“What if Fudge has you arrested?” Arthur asked.

Harry snorted.

“I’d like to see the git try.”

He and Albus left, along with the pale Minerva, who had not said a word since they’d returned to Grimmauld Place, and Sirius reached for the bottle of Firewhiskey.

He needed to drink something to process all that had happened.

He knew that Harry had barely scratched the surface of what had happened to him over the years, and Sirius didn’t even know where to begin, though his gaze drifted to his godson’s wife.

Morgana’s gaze was flitting around the kitchen, and she even pressed her feet into the floor.

Evidently, she’d never seen a house like this before, and Sirius couldn’t help but imagine what she would think when she saw the rest of the world around them.

“So, you’re Harry’s wife?” Molly asked.

Morgana nodded.

“We’ve been married for almost six years now. We’ve known each other since he arrived.”

Molly eyed the other woman, but asked no further questions, and none of the members of the Order made to leave.

Most had come close to being killed tonight, and some had succumbed to the Death Eaters.

Tomorrow would indeed be a day for mourning, but tonight, Sirius did not wish to think about such things.

Someway, and somehow, Harry had come back to him, not as he remembered, but he was back, nonetheless.

(Break)

He stalked through the halls of Malfoy manner in a mixture of confusion and fury, trying to digest all that had transpired this very evening, and how such had come to pass.

It was not often the Dark Lord was perplexed when it came to magic, but he’d found himself face to face with an adult Harry Potter, something that should not even be possible with magic.

Of course, there were ageing potions, but Potter was not under the influence of one.

No, the Dark Lord could see it in the man’s eyes that he’d been built by experience and dedication.

The magic he’d wielded had been as much of a surprise as his appearance, and Lord Voldemort would not deny that he was begrudgingly impressed by his foe.

He’d attacked with precision, without hesitation, and with only one intention, and that was to kill the Dark Lord.

The very thought brought a smirk to his lips.

Potter could not kill him, not matter how hard he tried.

With a shake of his head, he entered the large dining room to find it in a state of chaos as Severus seemed to be doing his utmost to tend to the several injured Death Eaters within.

“What happened?” the Dark Lord demanded.

His followers had outnumbered the members of the Order considerably and keeping them busy for only mere moments should not have taken such a toll.

“We were ambushed, my lord,” Augustus explained. “Two people appeared from within the veil.”

“Form the veil?”

Augustus nodded.

“A man and a woman. They attacked us!”

Voldemort frowned.

Potter had come through the veil, and evidently, wreaked havoc on the Death Eaters.

At a glance, he could see Lucius laying on the ground, clutching at the stump where his right hand had been, and Bellatrix was currently being smeared in a salve covering half of her face.

Both of the Lestrange brothers had sustained several broken bones, but there were some noticeable absences.

“Where is Rowle?”

“Dead, my lord,” Augustus answered, “as are Amycus, Gibbon and Mulciber. My Lord, who were they?”

The other Death Eaters fell silent in anticipation of his response, and the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes.

“I do not know how, but the man is none other than Harry Potter. The woman, I do not know.”

“Potter?” Bellatrix asked. “Potter is just a boy!”

“And yet I just fought him as a man!” Voldemort snapped. “Do not tell me I am mistaken when I saw him with my own eyes. I have said all along that he isn’t dead, and the proof I was waiting for presented itself tonight. This changes nothing, and our mission was a success.”

He frowned as he reached into his pocket but found that it was bereft of the prophecy such sacrifices had been made for.

“Potter!” he seethed, turning on his heels and storming from the room lest he truly lose his temper.

Somehow, he had managed to take the prophecy, so all that had occurred had been for nothing, and now, the world knew the Dark lord was back.

Lord Voldemort had nothing to show for what had transpired.

There was no prophecy, and he’d lost several of his most loyal followers.

Doing his utmost to maintain his composure, he cursed under his breath in parseltongue, vowing revenge on Potter for all he’d done, once more proving to be the bane of the Dark Lord’s existence.

(Break)

“Do you think we should go down and see what is happening?” Ginny asked.

“You know they don’t like that. They’ll tell us when we can go down,” Hermione replied.

“Bugger that,” George huffed as he made his way towards the door. “It’s almost four in the morning, and I’ve not eaten yet. Coming, Fred?”

His twin nodded, and the two of them left the room.

With a shrug, both Ron and Ginny followed, along with Hermione who rolled her eyes at the Weasley siblings.

It was likely they would only be told to leave again, but as they approached the kitchen, they found that the door was open. Within was Sirius, Remus, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, and another woman Hermione did not recognise.

All of them were quiet, though Sirius seemed to be rather happy as he poured himself a generous measure of Firewhiskey. Usually, this was not so.

Hermione had never seen him drink whilst he was in a better mood than she was used to.

“Oh, I am sorry,” Mrs Weasley sighed apologetically. “We would’ve sent for you all hours ago, but it has been an interesting night.”

“You can say that again,” Remus snorted, shaking his head.

“Why interesting?” George asked.

The others within the room looked decidedly uncomfortable at the question, but it was Sirius who answered it, almost casually, though the revelation was anything but.

“Harry is back.”

Hermione could almost feel her heart stop in her chest, and she looked towards the man to see if he was merely drunk and acting the fool.

He was the latter, but there was no jest or bitterness in his eyes.

“He’s back?” Ron asked in disbelief. “Where? How?”

“I am sure Harry will explain everything to you,” Mr Weasley broke in, “but he is not here. He is with Professor Dumbledore. You should prepare yourselves, he is not as you remember him.”

“What do you mean?” Fred pressed.

“Well, Harry is… he’s…I don’t even know how to explain.”

“Harry has changed,” Remus said uncertainly. “He’s not a child anymore.”

Sirius chuckled.

“The lady sitting just there is Harry’s wife, Morgana,” he introduced the stranger.

“His wife?” the twins said in unison.

The woman nodded as she stood.

“Morgana,” she introduced herself. “Harry has told me about all of you.”

The gathered group who’d arrived from the bedroom looked at one another in confusion, and Ron shook his head.

“He can’t be married. You must be what, in your twenties?”

“As is my husband.”

Silence fell once more, and Hermione could feel the onset of a headache from how hard her brain was working.

“Do not try to figure it out, Hermione,” Remus urged. “Best wait until you see Harry for yourself. He will be best to explain what he can.”

Hermione could only nod as she took a seat, and she was joined by the others.

“Married?” Ginny mouthed.

Hermione shrugged, pondering just how such a thing was possible, yet finding no answer that made any sense to her.

(Break)

He could feel the gazes of both Dumbledore and McGonagall on him as they walked through the halls of the castle towards the Headmaster’s office.

His former Head of House was yet to say anything to him, but Harry did not expect it would take long before she would.

Minerva McGonagall was not one to keep her thoughts to herself for long.

“Fudge will be scrambling to save his job,” Harry mused aloud. “Not that it will do any good. He will have to resign. You just need to ensure someone trustworthy will replace him.”

“There will be few willing to do so when knowledge of Tom’s return becomes public.”

“Then it is likely he will find a way to place someone sympathetic to him as Minister.”

“You have little faith in the Ministry,” Albus replied.

Harry shook his head.

“I have little faith in anyone outside of those that have earned my trust. My parents learned that the hard way. I do not intend on learning similarly.”

Dumbledore said nothing, save for murmuring his password to the gargoyle as they approached.

They entered the office to find the fireplace chiming incessantly, and Albus took a seat behind his desk before flicking his wand towards it.

“Ah, Cornelius. You wish to speak with me.”

“Yes, Albus, where have you been?”

“Attending to matters of the utmost importance. The fireplace is open.”

Fudge scowled, but stepped through a moment later, flanked by four other individuals, two being Aurors and the others Ministry officials.

Fudge was clearly agitated, passing his bowler hat from one hand to the other, and the man was trembling uncontrollably.

“A terrible business,” he whispered. “A terrible, terrible business.”

“I did warn you, Cornelius.”

Fudge’s eyes snapped towards Dumbledore.

“How could I be expected to believe such absurdity?” he asked. “There has been no proof except for your damned ramblings, Albus.”

Dumbledore deflated as he shook his head.

“The proof has been there, Cornelius, you merely chose to ignore it because you did not wish to face the truth.”

Fudge’s mouth fell agape, and he was lost for a response.

“Come, Dumbledore,” one of the women accompanying the Minister simpered. “You could not expect the Ministry to act on only your word.”

“I would think Albus’s word should be enough for any, Dolores,” McGonagall cut in waspishly.

The stouter, amphibian-like woman smiled in return, though it came across as more of a leer.

Harry watched her for a moment before realising Fudge and the others had shifted their attention towards him.

“You claim to be Harry Potter,” the Minister said accusingly.

“I don’t claim to be anything. I am Harry Potter. I remember the first time we met. You were waiting for me at The Leaky Cauldron after I blew up my aunt. We had tea and crumpets whilst you told me I had nothing to worry about.”

Fudge’s eyes widened.

“Merlin, it really is you,” he whispered.

Harry felt himself wince at the mention of the foe he’d left behind.

“Harry Potter is just a boy,” the stout woman interjected. “Surely, Cornelius…”

“Dolores, I was alone with Harry Potter when we shared that conversation. Only Harry Potter could know what we said and ate together.”

Dolores scowled unhappily, and the redheaded woman of the group approached him. She eyed Harry curiously for a moment before nodding.

“He’s a Potter alright,” she declared. “He looks much like his father and grandfather, but how is this possible?”

“Magic,” Harry answered simply, “but none of where I have been these past years is neither here nor there. We have something much more important to focus on. Voldemort.”

All within the room besides Harry, Dumbledore, and the redheaded woman shuddered at the name.

“I have already alerted the Aurors, and I am expecting them within the next couple of hours for a briefing,” the redhead explained. “We will do all we can, whilst we investigate the deaths of those discovered in the Department of Mysteries.”

“Who did you find?” Harry asked.

“Thorfinn Rowle, Amycus Carrow, Mulciber, and Gibbon.”

Harry snorted as he shook his head.

“You may want to check St Mungo’s,” he suggested. “I took Malfoy’s hand. He will need medical attention, and several others were badly wounded.”

“Lucius?” Fudge whimpered.

The redheaded woman glared at the Minister, and Harry nodded.

“He’s always been a Death Eater. Just because you granted pardons, that doesn’t mean they were innocent. The git even tried to kill me at the end of my second year here, so I took his hand as fair compensation.”

Fudge had paled considerably and began floundering over his words.

“The public will not take kindly to what has happened,” Dumbledore sighed. “Cornelius, you must understand your position.”

“My position?”

“You wither resign with dignity and admit you were wrong, or you will inevitably be ousted. Your political career is over.”

Harry had seldom seen Dumbledore be so candid but given all he’d endured because of Fudge these past years; it was understandable that his patience had worn thin.

“But if Harry Potter…”

“I’ll stop you there,” Harry cut in before Fudge could continue. “I will not be making any attempt to defend you, not when I know you are not the right man for the job to lead a war against Voldemort. See, you shit yourself at the mere mention of his name,” he added as the Minister shuddered once more. “Besides, your long association with Malfoy and his cohorts will mean no one will trust you to do what must be done. You might not know it, but you’re already losing the fight. If the Dark Lord was willing to risk being exposed, it’s because he knows he can win. If I were you, I would resign and ensure all those close to you within the Ministry do the same. Your dignity is all that can be salvaged from this.”

Fudge and Dolores scowled at him.

“You owe me, Potter,” the man growled. “I ensured you were not expelled!”

“Maybe I do, but I do not owe you so much. Who do you think everyone is going to look to when they learn both me and the Dark Lord are back? They will expect me to do something about it, and that will be any debt I have to you paid in full. You saw him for yourself earlier. Who do you think is going to have the balls to stand and fight against him? Will you do it, Minister?”

Fudge somehow paled further.

“And you will, Mr Potter?” the redheaded woman asked curiously.

Harry nodded.

“I’m going to personally hand him over to what is waiting for him on the other side, and all of his followers that get in my way will join him. Let’s face it, what other option is there? You can’t imprison him, and it’s not as though you have Azkaban anymore. He took the dementors from you. This is war, not a game of cat and mouse to apprehend a Dark Lord and his followers.”

The redheaded woman nodded thoughtfully.

“He is right,” she admitted. “Last time, we acted much too late, and the losses were too high. We must be different this time, Cornelius.”

The Minister swallowed deeply.

“I do not know what to do,” he murmured worriedly. “The Wizengamot…”

“Will do what is necessary,” the woman placated. “Those who are aligned with the Dark lord will not show themselves, and they are nothing without Lucius to lead them. We can ensure the necessary legislation is passed, and it would certainly help if Mr Potter championed the idea himself.”

Harry frowned at the suggestion.

“You said yourself that the many will look to you to solve the problem. It would be best if they have faith in you to do so. Publicly taking a stand and supporting the Ministry would go a long way in alleviating the concern. It will even help ensure that if you chose to endorse a candidate, they would be the next Minister of Magic.”

“So, you are suggesting Cornelius resigns?” Dolores cut in hotly.

“Cornelius has no chance of salvaging his position,” the redhead bit back irritably. “Even you must see how foolish it would be to try, Dolores. “I would even urge you to resign your post, given your hand in legislations being passed put forward by Lucius and his ilk. You may not be a Death Eater, but you have more than played your part in showing where your loyalties have been.”

Dolores began to purple with fury, and she balled her fists tightly at her side.

“I’ll do it,” Harry broke in with a shrug. “If it ensures Voldemort’s influence stays out of the Ministry, I’ll do what I can.”

“You’re being rather amenable, Harry,” Dumbledore broke in.

Harry shrugged.

“Only as far as necessary,” he replied. “I will not become a Ministry stooge or a poster boy for the war. I will fight, but I will not be speaking to the media.”

“It is the job of the Aurors to fight against the Dark Lord,” Dolores snapped.

“If they fancy their chances, they’re welcome to fight Voldemort,” Harry returned, “but it will eventually come down to me and him regardless of what anyone else wants. It would be best if we could work together. I will not stop hunting him down and taking out any of his followers that get in my way. Especially Pettigrew.”

“Not this again,” Fudge huffed.

“After everything, are you truly doubting what both me and Dumbledore told you the night I learned that he is still alive?” Harry snorted. “Pettigrew is the one who betrayed my parents, not Sirius Black. I’ll bring you the rat’s head as proof if that will satisfy you, Fudge.”

The Minister did not know what to say as Harry glared at him.

“Perhaps we would be best to call it a night for now,” Dumbledore suggested. “Our emotions are heightened, and I expect we are all rather exhausted from all that has occurred. I would suggest we meet again once you have resigned. From there, we can discuss a suitable replacement.”

“I think that is an excellent idea,” the redheaded woman agreed. “I expect you will be calling an emergency meeting imminently, Cornelius?”

Fudge did not appear to wish to do so, but he nodded reluctantly and gestured for Dolores to follow him.

They exited the office via the fireplace and were followed by the Aurors.

Only the redhead remained behind briefly, and she placed a monocle in her eye before staring at Harry speculatively for a moment.

“I do not know what has happened, or how all of this has come to be, but it is good to have you back, Mr Potter. I expect we will see much more of each other.”

She left, and Harry frowned once more.

“That is Amelia Bones, Harry. She is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. A powerful and brilliant witch that you would do well to work with.”

“As in Susan Bones?”

“Her aunt.”

Harry nodded and Dumbledore took the mantle of staring at him, almost assessing if he was truly there.

“I expect you have quite the tale to tell,” he mused aloud.

“I do, but now is not the moment for it. I intend to return to my wife, get some rest, and see what tomorrow, well, today will bring.”

Dumbledore nodded his understanding, and Harry made his way to the door, pausing as Professor McGonagall stepped in front of him.

“It really is good to have you back, Potter,” she murmured, giving his arm a squeeze.

It was the closest he would get to affection from the woman, and he offered her a smile before leaving the office, shaking his head at having been thrown into the deep end once more.

Still, he was here now, and Harry intended to make the best of the situation until he and Morgana could return home, though he expected all that was to come would not be as easy as he hoped to navigate.

It never was.

(Break)

Morgana was in awe at everything she’d seen around her since arriving through the eerie vale at the Ministry of Magic.

The building itself had been grand, and unlike anything else she’d ever seen, as was the home she currently found herself in.

The kitchen was bigger than the house she and Harry shared in the forest, and everything was made of metal, stone, and much richer materials.

She felt out of place here.

Morgana wasn’t opposed to the wealthy, or even the people here, but she did not belong, and nor did her husband.

Or did he?

She frowned as she pondered the life Harry had led before she’d met him, and wondered if he did miss it, or if he felt out of place back home.

“So, how did you and Harry meet?” one of the redhead twins asked.

They were making an effort to speak with her, but Ron and Hermione did not seem to know what to say, and the redhead girl had only glared at Morgana a few times from across the table.

“We met by the lake almost ten years ago,” she replied with a smile. “Harry was swimming, and I was watching him,” she added with a shrug.

“Ah, and he was such a shy thing when we knew him.”

“He’s never really been shy with me.”

The twins snorted amusedly, and even Sirius laughed.

Hermione seemed surprised by the revelation.

“What was Harry like when you knew him?” Morgana asked curiously.

“Quiet, shy, and brave to the point of stupidity.”

“Well, that hasn’t changed,” Morgana sighed. “He’s still brave, but he has the skills to justify it.”

“You’re telling me,” Sirius murmured. “He certainly gave the Dark Lord a bloody good seeing to.”

“Harry fought You-Know-Who?” Ron yelped.

Sirius nodded and took another sip of Firewhiskey.

“He and Morgana saved us tonight,” he said unashamedly. “We were outnumbered considerably, until they arrived. Harry even cut off Lucius Malfoy’s hand.”

The twins cheered and received a look of admonishment from their mother.

“I never thought Harry…” Hermione whispered.

“Oh, come on, Hermione, he would’ve murdered Sirius the night we met him if we hadn’t stopped him,” Ron snorted.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t argue the point, though it wasn’t as if she was given the opportunity to.

Only a moment later, Harry entered the kitchen, and once more, he found himself being stared at by a dozen pair of wide eyes.

His own gaze swept over those gathered before he windlessly summoned the bottle of Firewhiskey from Sirius.

“I’ll probably need this,” he said with a shrug before taking a seat next to Morgana.

“How did it go with Dumbledore?” Sirius asked, breaking the silence.

“Well, Fudge is going to resign in the next few hours, other than that, there’s nothing new. I doubt we will hear much from Riddle for a while whilst he plans his next move.”

“And what about you, Harry, are you okay?” Sirius questioned.

“I’m fine,” Harry said dismissively. “It’s not the first fight I’ve been in, and it won’t be the last.”

Morgana fought the urge to grin.

As ever, Harry was understating his experiences, though she suspected he would not be sharing them in full with everyone here.

“What happened to you, Harry?” Hermione asked sadly. “You went into the lake, and just never came back. We thought…”

She choked on her words.

They’d all thought him dead these past years.

“I was taken,” Harry answered. “By a lady in the lake. She told me that my destiny was elsewhere, and she took me there.”

“A lady in the lake, like in the tales of King Arthur?” Hermione asked.

“Exactly,” Harry answered. “It was the very same lady. Where she took me is like here, but a thousand years in the past.”

“A thousand years in the past?” Hermione whispered. “But if that was true…”

“Then there should be considerable changes here,” Harry interjected. “I’ve come to believe that where she took me was another world entirely, not so dissimilar, but different. It has been almost ten years ago that I left for me, but for you, it has been almost three. I am twenty-four years-old, and have lived every second of those years, the good and the bad.”

Hermione could only shake her head.

“It’s just so difficult to believe.”

“Even for me,” Harry agreed, “and I’ve lived it.”

Silence fell once more, before inevitably, Hermione broke it once more.

“A thousand years ago,” she whispered. “Does that mean Hogwarts…?”

Harry nodded.

“Yes, I know each of the Founders well. For the most part, they’re just normal people, brilliant witches and wizards in their own ways, but can be as much a pain in the arse as anyone else you will ever meet.”

“But you must’ve learned so much from them.”

“I did,” Harry admitted, “but more about being a better person than I did magic. What they teach you is that magic is a personal journey that you have to take. You will find what you are best at along the way.”

Hermione seemed to be rather taken aback by how much Harry was downplaying what she seemed to be such an honour. Before she could continue pressing him, however, Harry stood.

“I am really pleased to see all of you again, but I am exhausted. I need to sleep to clear digest everything that has happened. Besides, there will be lots of time for us to talk. Sirius, did you arrange a room?”

The man nodded.

“You can use my brother’s room. It’s one of the nicest in the house. Just, be quiet as we pass through the hallway. It’s probably best not to disturb my mother.”

“Your mother?”

Sirius grinned mischievously as he gestured for Morgana and Harry to follow them.

He paused in front of a pair of drawn curtains.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

With a flick of his wand, the curtains opened, and the three of them were greeted by the sight of a pale woman whose eyes bulged in their sockets at the sight of Sirius.

“SHAME OF MY LOINS!” she screeched. “I SHOULD’VE DROWNED YOU AT BIRTH!”

“I BLOODY WISH YOU HAD, YOU OLD BAT!” Sirius roared back before drawing the curtains once more.

“She seems nice,” Harry said dryly.

Sirius nodded.

“Being dead has mellowed her. Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

They followed him once more up two flights of steps before Sirius came to a stop outside a polished oak door.

“Regulus Arcturus Black,” Harry read from the plaque.

“My younger brother,” Sirius said sadly. “Spent his life trying to please my parents and ended up dead during the war. No one knows what happened to him. It’s the only room Kreacher kept over the years. Go on, I’ll make sure no one disturbs you in the morning.”

Harry nodded appreciatively before pulling the man into a tight embrace.

“It really is good to see you again, Sirius.”

“And you, Harry,” Sirius replied. “This will take some getting used to. I still can’t believe you are here, but from what I saw tonight, James and Lily would be so proud of you.”

He gave Harry another tight embrace, and his gaze did not leave him until the door was closed.

“Bloody hell, it’s strange being here,” Harry said tiredly. “How’re you?”

Morgana shrugged.

“Well enough, I just don’t feel like I belong here,” she said honestly.

“Me either,” Harry sighed. “Well, if you feel that way now, just wait until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

Harry nodded as he wrapped his arms around her.

“We might as well take advantage of being back here,” he mused aloud, “and you’ll get to see for yourself just how different this place is. You’re in for quite the surprise.”