Greater Than, Lesser Be / Part Three, A
Greater Than, Lesser Be
Part Three, A
Previously...
**
PART THREE
**
Jason Nesmith: Never give up. Never surrender.
Galaxy Quest, 1999
**
December, 1991
Remus was with Harry, Camille, Jonathan and Justine when he received the letter from Fawkes. The magnificent phoenix burst into flames in the main boardroom at Cloak & Dagger, startling nearly everyone.
Fawkes cooed a melodious tune, presenting Remus the letter in his talon for taking. Everyone in the room stopped talking, looking warily at the bird. Finally, Remus took the offered note and read it, his eyebrows popping up in surprise at one point.
“What’s it say?” asked Harry in a rather bored tone. He knew most of Dumbledore’s tricks, anyway.
“Wants to know what I said to your little self in Diagon Alley. Seems he finally checked in,” muttered Remus, folding the note and nodding at Fawkes. The phoenix disappeared in a burst of flame. “Essentially, Harry’s gone for the holidays and Dumbledore’s wondering why.”
“So he’s finally noticed that Harry’s not what Dumbledore thought he’d be?” asked Justine, confirming.
Harry nodded. “I was left with the Dursleys for a reason, Justine. He wanted someone to look up to ‘the Great Albus Dumbledore’ because he was saved from his horrible relatives.”
Justine made a face, turning back to her notes in her spiral-ring binder. Jonathan and Camille did the same, as Harry waved Remus off. “Handle it how you will, Remus,” the boss of Cloak & Dagger instructed, not even glancing up from his own files. His tone, however, did not leave much room for leeway as he continued. “Just deal with Dumbledore.”
Remus nodded, although Harry did not see, and left the boardroom. Remus took a leisurely stroll through the Cloak & Dagger building. The boardrooms all had magnificent views of the Channel, and the hallways were decorated with tasteful art deco reprints.
Cloak & Dagger’s headquarters in Dorset was only about four storeys tall, with two magically pulled and designed elevators and a very nice main staircase located in the ground floor lobby to the first floor’s junior development teams.
The basement, however, was where Harry spent his time. Having been denied a childhood growing up, Harry had renamed specific locations within the company based off childhood TV shows, comics and movies. The basement, where Remus knew the secure Apparition point was, was called the “X-Wing,” after the X-Men’s secret underground lair where Cerebro was located.
Along the way was “the Bat Wing,” which led to the experimental laboratory and weapons storage. The Bat Wing connected to the gymnasium and training centre which Piers ran, affectionately named “the G.I. Joe’s.”
Remus knew Harry did this on one hand to amuse himself but on the other hand, had everyone in the company calling the departments and rooms by those names to confuse anyone who might enter Cloak & Dagger unauthorised. Unless they had knowledge of the non-magical world’s comic books and TV shows, it would be unlikely they’d ever realise the Bat Wing was where weaponry would be located, or that top-secret plans for their next developmental project could be found in the House of M.
Remus shook his head as he continued down the darkened hallway in the X-Wing, heading towards Arkham, the secure Apparition point as well as holding cells for unwanted guests.
Two security guards that Piers had trained were affectionately known as the Joe’s. Two house elves were also standing guard by the Apparition room. There was 24-hour surveillance and guard shift changes every six hours to relieve them.
“Mr. Lupin,” one said, politely as he stood. “Would you mind?”
Remus smiled and spread his arms as the two guards inspected him, waving their wand over and under his arms, similar to a metal-swipe at the airport.
It was routine and completed quickly after several swipes of the wand here or there. Finally, the Joe waved Remus through the doorway to the Apparition point. Remus spun on his heel and with a loud pop was gone.
He appeared in Hogsmeade, between two buildings in an alley. He didn’t want to signal his arrival just yet; he had to think things through quickly as he began a leisurely stroll down towards Hogwarts’ main gates.
With his hands in his trouser pockets, drawing stares from the local witches and wizards as he passed for his very mundane business suit, Remus ran over several options in his mind. Without giving away Cloak & Dagger’s main plans, Remus had to find a way to convince Dumbledore to leave the younger Harry alone.
As the last scion of a noble, Pureblood family, the young Harry Potter would be given certain leeway and exempts from current Wizengamot laws. Dumbledore may be a crafty politician with friends in high places - but his support was waning. The Harry that travelled through time knew that within the next three years, Fudge would not be calling on Dumbledore for help or counsel; that his position within the Wizengamot was already unstable due to his pressing of other, “pro-Muggle” laws; his age worked against him, with his strongest supporters already in their late ages and slowly dying off; the esteem of ‘defeating’ Grindlewald was slowly fading as the story of the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ took over the press and stories and fairy tales.
Well played, and Remus could walk away with Dumbledore in a vice. One wrong word or sentence, and Remus could give Dumbledore the right information to find and bring down Cloak & Dagger in its entirety. It would be difficult, given that the company was well known and had a large revenue and interest in the non-magical world, but… it could be done.
With a sigh, Remus ran a hand through his hair, eyeing the large iron gates of Hogwarts. There was once a time where this felt like home, a safe haven from the prejudice and dangers of the real world. A place where he could act his age with his best friends and know he wouldn’t maim or harm an innocent human being.
Settling his face into a hard, solid mask, Remus straightened his shoulders, threw them back a bit and added a confident swagger to his steps as he pushed through the gates.
Hogwarts wasn’t home anymore.
**
Dumbledore was waiting for him, twinkle absent in his eyes.
They made small talk as they walked through the hallways, Dumbledore constantly reminding Remus of pranks he used to pull with the Marauders when they were younger, carefree, and students of the establishment. Each sentence, each word was like a physical blow to the werewolf; yet he recognised it as a tactic for Dumbledore to make him feel either nostalgic or guilty for going behind Dumbledore’s back with the Harry Potter business.
It didn’t work.
Inside the Heads’ office, Dumbledore offered tea and biscuits. Remus preferred coffee, but accepted the tea as a show - he didn’t drink it through.
After some more banal small talk, Dumbledore opened the floor. “When did you meet Harry, Remus?”
Remus brushed imaginary lint off his suit, a casual and studied move to make it appear as if the conversation was boring and trite. “In Diagon Alley, when Hagrid took him to the bank.”
Something flashed past Dumbledore’s eyes - too quick to read - but the man recovered. “I see. Do you know where young Harry is now? I know he is not at Privet Drive with his aunt and that is the safest place for him.”
“From what?”
“I beg your pardon?” spluttered Dumbledore, coughing as his sip of tea was disrupted.
Remus nodded in acceptance of the splutter. “I asked what Harry was safe from that he needed to be in an abusive home.”
Dumbledore paused; a frosty glint entered his eyes and the conversation turned. “Harry is safest at his aunt’s house through a blood protection they share. When Lily sacrificed herself, a blood bond was created. Petunia shares Lily’s blood, the blood that flows through Harry’s veins as well. The blood wards around Privet Drive shield Harry from outside harm.”
“And what about internal harm, Dumbledore?” asked Remus calmly, despite his rising anger at the conversation. “What about the abuse he suffered at his aunt and uncle’s hands? The bullying by his cousin?”
Dumbledore’s stony silence had Remus continuing.
“You must know; you had old Mrs. Figg down the street watching him. The time when his uncle’s sister came by the house and set her bulldog on Harry, biting him and chasing him up a tree? Or the games his cousin played with him-what’s it called? Oh, yes, Harry Hunting,” sneered Remus. He was doing well now, his voice rising with each accusation of abuse and Dumbledore’s lack of knowledge. “Or when his aunt swung a frying pan at Harry’s head and gave him a concussion and they took him to the hospital? Or the other time his uncle beat him black and blue for growing his hair back after his aunt cut it all off, breaking his arm? Or how about Harry’s Hogwarts letter, addressed to the cupboard under the stairs?!”
Dumbledore swallowed; the portraits lining the walls were silent in shock or contemplation. Silence rang through the room at Remus’s last accusation, a shout, delivered in a punctual manner that belayed the anger in the statement.
Finally, Dumbledore replied.
“It was the safest place for him from Voldemort and his Death Eaters.”
“So you knew,” replied Remus flatly, eyeing the elderly wizard.
The defeater of Grindlewald wasn’t a green, young man-he knew admitting anything would make him culpable. Instead, he sat silently.
The two stared at each other over the cluttered desk. Remus knew Dumbledore couldn’t use Legilimency on him; werewolves had a natural barrier, but there could still be things read in Remus’s face. Loosening his muscles and relaxing as best he could into the seat, Remus adopted a bored look that Sirius perfected when they were in school.
“Dumbledore, you will remain nothing more than a Headmaster of a school that Harry attends. You have no control over him, no say in his classes or in his residencies. He knows his rights and his laws-those who take care of him are aware of this as well and guardianship papers were filed and accepted back in August.”
A twitch appeared under Dumbledore’s left eye briefly.
Remus continued. “When Harry returns in January, you will not seek him out. If you do, his Head of House will be with him in the room, as well as his guardians. Provisions have been made for him to be removed from Hogwarts if his guardians feel it is necessary. Do you understand?”
The twitch under the eye turned into a tick, but Dumbledore, oozing politeness and sugarcoated words, replied, “Of course, Remus. I will endeavour to follow your requests.”
Remus eyed the man across from him before nodding and standing, leaving his tea cold in front of him. “Pleasure, Headmaster. Merry Christmas.”
Remus turned on his heel and strode from the office, down the revolving staircase and through the many passages and halls of his once home, mentally saying goodbye. Although he had chosen his path years ago when Harry appeared at his home, time-travelling and idealistic and betrayed, Remus still felt a gaping wound in his heart as he formally cut ties to Albus Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix and Hogwarts.
He crossed the snow-covered grounds and was out of the gates, which slammed shut and locked behind him, echoing their Headmaster’s anger in a minor temper tantrum of symbolism. There, he sighed, slipping the poker face he wore to a stressed, tense and worried face he wore internally. After several deep breaths, he shook his shoulders and torso, and reached into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a flat, rectangular item, no larger than the palm of his hand and tapped his wand to it.
A high-pitched beep made him wince, sensitive to the noise. Another tap was a playback feature.
“I see. Do you know where young Harry is now? I know he is not at Privet Drive with his aunt and that is the safest place for him.” The tinny voice of Albus Dumbledore echoed back from the device, another Cloak & Dagger crossbreed invention - a magical tape recorder, without the hassle of a tape. A portable pensieve without images (one with images was in the works).
Remus tapped the device again, turning it off and placed it securely in his pockets. He would bring it back to Cloak & Dagger, archive it and let Harry know about the conversation. Then, he would go to the Potter ancestral manor in Brecon and celebrate Christmas with the young Harry. He had several years’ worth to make up.
**
Cloak & Dagger: Summer, 1993.
Harry wasn’t sure what kept Dumbledore from bothering his younger self, but whatever nerves Remus hit that day in Dumbledore’s office had the old man backing off the younger Harry. Harry was sure that Dumbledore didn’t know Remus had a recorder on him, for use of blackmail purposes later down the road, but Harry also didn’t want to take any chances.
Charity Burbage, at Hogwarts, was told to keep a close eye on Harry as subtly as she could and report back if Dumbledore requested to see Harry in his office, spoke to him through McGonagall, or anything else Charity through strange. She was instructed to keep Harry from the third-floor corridor at any cost.
It didn’t come down to that; instead, Quirrell went for the Philosopher’s Stone. His impatience towards his host and his ineptitude kept him from retrieving the stone until Dumbledore arrived, duelled and killed the possessed man.
The stone was safe, but more importantly, Harry was not forced into retrieving it and playing the hero so early on in his life.
Placing Remus in Diagon Alley, at Flourish and Blott’s at the same time as the Weasleys and Malfoys stopped Lucius from slipping Ginny Weasley the diary Horcrux. Although Harry wouldn’t mind seeing his ex-wife dead, the little Ginny Weasley was not his wife yet and was not the manipulative bitch she would grow into.
The Horcrux was stored in a high-security vault in Arkham and left there until an opportunity arose for another; the Gaunt house was schedule for a visit in early June of 1995; Remus had already procured the Diadem on his first Hogwarts visit when he was still on good terms with Dumbledore back in the summer of 1991.
The Cup in the Lestrange vault would also need planning, and had a scheduled pick up of the summer of 1994; Grimmauld Place and the locket would be whenever Sirius decided to make his escape and Remus and Camilla could track him down.
The piece in Harry would take the most research and time to work on, but they were getting close.
Thankfully, between when Remus spoke to Dumbledore and the end of Harry’s second year, there were no near-death experiences or basilisks for Harry to fight. Harry made Seeker on the Gryffindor Quidditch team; he, Neville and Hermione became good friends and branched out to other houses, starting study groups. Dumbledore remained away from Harry and kept his plans to himself.
It was quiet and serene for Harry Potter.
At Cloak & Dagger, however, it was another story as Harry Potter “Houdini” began the plans required for his finale.
With no leads on the spell that sent Harry into the past, Harry had his employees continue working on their projects. They were slowly coming up to their deadlines and several loose ends were still causing difficulty and headaches.
Harry had Yui and Piers working together with the GI Joe’s, down in the gym and weapons lab. Edith and Sebastian were working on leaflets and marketing for test subjects for their enhanced Wolfsbane potion-none were willing to risk Remus, but they would pay well for others to help them. It was a risk, but if they covered the legalities, Harry was satisfied. There was, unfortunately, only one way to test improved potions…
Camilla was attached to help with Piers and Yui, but only sometimes; her job was to find things that everyone else needed, and acted as the go-between for Cloak & Dagger. Almost as well known as Remus, the two of them would manage contracts and meetings for Harry, including the upcoming one with the foreign ministries of France and Latvia, along with the British Department of Magical Games and Sports.
Jonathan and Justine, however, had their own tricky project nearing completion and their deadline, working on adaptations of their recorder and pensieves.
Everything was coming to head, and within the next year, Harry had to ensure that everything was in place and that everything was in working order. It was a matter of life and deaths-but whose, Harry wasn’t sure.
**
Harry, Jonathan, Justine, Remus and Piers stood on the catwalk-viewing platform above the large gymnasium where Piers trained Cloak & Dagger’s security. While some were trained in basic security duties, the rest were highly intelligent, highly deadly armed guards.
These men and women had to be in their peak position by summer 1995; Piers had them training with their wands, but also training under specific conditions. Currently, the gym was converted into a scenario run. The GI Joe’s were going over a battle strategy-different from their previous one-and using the technology Jonathan and Justine were trying to integrate.
Those on the platform were tense. It was the first trial run of the communicators Justine and Jonathan spelled, and they were nervous that they didn’t have everything down right. Harry was okay with that, but he needed some type of results. Working with technology around magic was always challenging, getting the right frequencies and conversions, but it was also the first time the Joe’s were using the communicators.
The GI Joe’s were in position below. All wore black uniforms, none wore robes. Their outfits were similar to Harry’s original Hit Gear as a paid assassin; Kevlar and Dragonhide vests, Dragonhide boots and gloves and standard utility belts. Yui’s creation of a hybrid firearm that used magically loaded bullets was standard issue for the Joe’s. They knew how to use their wands in magical duels, and they knew how to disarm their opponents without wands.
Tying it all together for a scenario test run using the communicators would add another level of sophistication to their unit and make them a near unstoppable force. It had to work.
Piers gave the signal, a flash of sparks with his wand, and below the Joe’s fell into formation.
The scenario was one they were intimately familiar with, if unsure about why they had to practice it continuously. They would Apparate into a graveyard at noon, set up base and wait until dark, after a large cauldron would be set up. They would not attack until given the order.
They had two missions in one: rescue the boy (and hopefully not boys, plural), get him to safety at Cloak & Dagger, and take out the Death Eaters. Distract the Death Eaters from Voldemort.
The Joe’s didn’t ask why they were fighting Death Eaters, especially as they were long gone since Harry Potter destroyed the Dark Lord-but they knew better than to question their boss.
A house elf agreed to play Harry Potter, tied to Tom Riddle Senior’s tombstone. A large cauldron was set up where Harry remembered from his memories; one of the Joe’s played Peter Pettigrew, while others played the Death Eaters. There were ten in total; the rest of the Joe’s were the attack squad.
They would not add Voldemort in to their scenario; not yet-Harry wanted to leave him to last, once the Joe’s were used to the Death Eaters and the terrain. Piers gave the order for those playing Death Eaters to use the same tactics that Death Eaters would use in real life; they had experienced Healers on hand.
The scenario began. Justine and Jonathan monitored their frequencies from above, watching how the Joe’s would use their communicators. They all wore tiny ear buds with attached mouthpieces that wired down near their mouths. Television hosts and dancers would use similar technology in the early twenty-first century.
The Joe leader, Quentin Smith, began murmuring into his piece. “Hostage is in sight, unarmed and possibly injured. There are ten targets, spread out in half-circle formations. This is a rescue and disarm. Repeat: rescue and disarm.”
There was some crackle and Justine made a note on her notepad. Harry kept his eyes on the Joe’s.
The group of Joe’s moved silently from behind tombstones, creeping closer to where the ‘Death Eaters’ were standing. The house elf as Harry Potter was instructed to act as Harry actually did during the capture in his fourth year; the elf was supposedly listening to Voldemort rant about his followers and naming the Death Eaters.
Once Voldemort would give Harry his wand back, the Joe’s were to strike.
It went well-at first. Quentin had his team attack as the house elf freed itself from the tombstone, mimicking Voldemort giving Harry his wand; but then it went pear-shaped.
“Team B, proceed with rescue. Disapparate hostage to a safe location,” instructed Quentin quietly. “Team A, pick your targets.”
Team B crept close to where Harry/the elf were standing, listening to Voldemort mock him about knowing how to duel-then, one Joe leapt forward to grab the boy and have Team B and Team A as cover.
The Death Eaters reacted, throwing spells at the visible Joe’s. Sparkles and streaks of light lit up the fake graveyard, illuminating the Joe’s faces and the white masks of the Death Eaters.
“Mulley! Take out McNair-he’s the one to watch on your left! Robbins, Malfoy’s coming up at three o’clock! Law, just what are you playing at?? Goyle’s at your left! Hit him with a Stun-ack!”
Quentin cut himself off as the crackle of static overwhelmed his communication earpiece, crippling him and sending him to the ground. The man wretched his earpiece off and out, just like the rest of the Joe’s as they clamped down on their ears and writhed in pain.
Piers didn’t call the fight over; those pretending to be Death Eaters in the exercise continued as planned and stunned the Joe’s. There was no point wounding them at this point.
The house elf was secured and Harry Potter would’ve been tortured to death. The devices failed and the scenario ended.
Piers sent his wand up, creating an echoing boom, signalling the end of the practice. Healers rushed onto the gymnasium floor, moving towards the downed Joe’s, some of who were bleeding out their ears.
Harry’s mouth was set at a straight line, knuckles tight on the platform rail. Jonathan and Justine shared a look, and Jonathan winced. They hadn’t had a setback like this in years.
Piers scowled as he surveyed his men. With a growl, he turned to Harry and began speaking, his voice so heavily accented in annoyance it was hard to understand. “We’ll be working twice as hard, boss. Promise.”
“Of course,” agreed Harry, calmly and softly. “As you wish, Piers.”
The South African man turned on his heels and marched off the platform and through a glass door, heading down towards the gym floor and the Healer’s rooms to see his Joe’s.
Jonathan and Justine, however, remained on the platform with Harry. They kept looking at their notes, and muttering about what they could do.
“It was the magical interference,” sighed Justine, casting an eye over the graveyard. “It’s easy to change the electrons into a magical equivalent, but using something so tiny as the communicators mean that each has to compensate for the amount of magic used around it.”
“And when you’ve got different levels of wizards out there with different magical outputs, it makes them go squirrelly,” agreed Jonathan, frowning.
“Whatever it is,” said Harry coolly, glancing at them, “Figure out a way to fix it. Two months. We need this up ad running and perfected for combat by next summer.”
“Yes, sir,” replied Jonathan and Justine, recognising their boss and not their friend in the command. After all, it could very well be the fate of magical Britain resting on their work.
**
Harry’s house. July 31, 1993.
Camilla and her son, along with Remus and a few of the other higher-ranking members of Cloak & Dagger decorated Harry’s house for the little Harry’s birthday party. Harry was rather reluctant to host the party, but given that Remus twisted Harry’s arm by stating that they couldn’t host it at Potter Manor, due to the privacy enchantments on the building, they needed another secure location. Moreover, Harry Houdini’s was just the place.
Harry was sure the universe would go boom-and Hermione was going to be there to tell him about it as well, as she and Neville, as well as a few other Hogwarts friends, were invited.
Remus speculated that Harry was different enough from the little Harry that it wouldn’t make a difference, but Harry wasn’t going to take the chance and was planning on staying as far away from the younger version of himself for as long as possible.
It did make things difficult, as technically, Cloak & Dagger were Harry’s guardians. While Sirius Black remained Harry’s magical guardian, a feat of magic Dumbledore couldn’t even overthrow, the Dursleys happily signed their nephew over to the first person who came across them; in this case, it was Remus and Cloak & Dagger’s solicitor.
While Remus couldn’t have guardianship over Harry, due to lycanthropy, a major corporation could, with Remus being the acting in loco parentis for the company as their VP. And considering how well known and well-liked and established Cloak & Dagger were in the non-magical world, where they bought most of their stock and conducted side-projects for various companies, the MPs and even the Prime Minister wouldn’t disagree.
And they didn’t. Remus Lupin was Harry’s guardian in all but paper but the company ran with it; Harry enjoyed his Uncle Moony’s company and the two had grown close. While Harry knew a great many things that the older, time-travelling Harry never got a chance to learn, it didn’t sour the older’s relationship with Remus.
So here Harry Houdini was: helping to blow up balloons with Mr. Granger while the rest of his employees entertained thirteen-year-olds.
“What’s it like running a major multi-million pound corporation?” asked Mr. Granger.
Harry paused and thought for a moment, holding tightly onto the lips of the balloon. “Exhausting, actually.” Harry then eyed the man and asked, “What’s it like being a dental surgeon?”
Mr. Granger flashed Harry a perfect set of pearly whites. “Haven’t you heard? It’s just practice for when Hermione brings home her first boyfriend.”
Harry shuddered.
“It was very generous of you to let Harry and Remus use your home for his birthday party,” continued Mr. Granger, on a new topic. “Most bosses wouldn’t think of it at all. They wouldn’t offer.”
“Remus was a good friend of Harry’s parents, and I trust him with my life. It’s the least I could do,” answered Harry. “I suppose I also feel compelled to help Harry-I lived a similar home life, only I never got to escape it until I was seventeen.”
Mr. Granger frowned. “Yes,” he hummed. “Portia and I aren’t very happy with having Hermione at Hogwarts with Dumbledore in charge, if he left Harry the way he did.”
“He has his reasons, I’m sure. I just wouldn’t trust him,” answered Harry evenly. The two continued with talk of Hogwarts, how Harry Houdini never attended but knew different kinds of magic from his travels around the world; this interested Mr. Granger and soon they were discussing Egypt and the Middle East when Remus found them.
“We’re cutting the cake,” he said, “Did you want to join…?”
The question was addressed to Harry, but Mr. Granger already confirmed his answer and moved towards the modern kitchen. Harry frowned, and then shrugged. “I might as well see if the world goes boom now rather than later.”
Harry followed Remus, tugging at his Argyle sweater vest nervously. Just because his closest friends knew of his existence and past life as Harry Potter didn’t mean a thirteen-year-old boy-who, Harry thought frankly, wasn’t very smart-would notice his identity.
God, thought Harry, sourly, I sound like Batman. Justice League, here I come!
“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you-Happy birthday, dear Harry, happy birthday to you!” sang the people in the room as Harry entered the brightly lit and decorated kitchen.
Around the dining table were those Harry Houdini worked with: Camilla, her son Hunter, Remus, Jonathan, Piers, Justine, Yui and Edith; across from those adults were Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Hermione, Neville and his grandmother, Susan Bones and her aunt Amelia; near Harry was standing on either side of Nathaniel Moon and Terry Boot.
Harry did his best to hide behind the crowd of people in the small room; he didn’t want to make himself too obvious and disrupt things more than his existence in the universe already caused. He was, however, pleased to see Harry Potter look well.
Incredibly well.
When he was thirteen, he was scrawny and already beginning to blackmail Vernon to sign his permission slip into Hogsmeade. After blowing up Marge, Harry had the best summer ever, gaining several stone in weight and shooting up in height. He never managed his true height, due to the Dursleys, but it seemed that this Harry Potter might achieve it.
The boy was well fed and dressed nicely; his skin glowed with happiness and health; old wounds and nutrition issues were addressed at Potter Manor, and Quidditch helped the boy gain a healthy balance. And most importantly, he was happy.
Harry couldn’t remember a time when he was that happy, or at least, unquestionably happy. There was always some type of struggle or fear in his life, someone trying to kill him or hurt his friends. This Harry, from this universe, didn’t have to worry about it. If the time travelling Harry had this way, then the kid would never have to, either.
Harry blew the candles out of his cake and everyone cheered. The boy’s eyes lit up as he looked at the people around the room, pleased and satisfied with hit lot in life. Finally, Harry’s eyes settled on another pair of emerald, hidden behind fashionable frames.
“Mr. Houdini,” said Harry, as everyone quieted down to hear him. Harry swallowed heavily and moved so Harry could see him, thinking, please, universe, don’t go boom. Don’t go boom.
“Yes, Mr. Potter?” replied the time traveller.
“Thank you very much for letting us have my birthday party here,” said Harry, smiling crookedly.
Harry smiled back, ignoring the bizarre looks his employees were giving him and Harry, their heads swivelling back and forth between the two. “Of course, Mr. Potter. It was nothing.”
Harry Potter smiled and turned to Neville, who excited said something to Harry, pulling the Hogwarts students into a conversation.
Remus drew Harry away.
“Are you out of your mind?” he hissed the moment they were in the hallway.
Harry was perplexed. “What do you mean?”
Remus reached up and clutched some strands of hair on his head. “You smile the exact. Same. Way!”
Harry frowned. “Oh.”
He hadn’t really thought about the way his smile looked, being similar to the younger Potter either. It couldn’t be helped; there were genetic quirks, after all.
“Harry, while I don’t believe in the whole ‘universe could implode’ scenario Hermione fed you in your previous life, I do believe that you and Harry Potter should be kept apart from each other,” said Remus gravely, his voice little above a whisper as the two conversed in the hallway. Beyond, they could hear laughter and conversation.
“Of course I understand that, Remus,” replied the thirty-something time traveller. “I completely agree.”
“Great,” sighed Remus. The two shared an unreadable look before turning and going back into the kitchen; but Harry did his best to remain behind others and after an hour or so, escaped to his office. They had preparations to make, anyway.
**
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