Dyslexia: I have a language disability, grammar and spelling mistakes ahead.
Disclaimer: JKR owns all her rights and she is a wonderful, wonderful person.
Beta: Many, many thanks to Ahrnberg!
AN: This is a stand alone fic that also works as a sequel to What We Lost.
Summary: What happens when Harry Potter at age 29 is transported back in time with his family by a meddling phoenix? Well, when four of his kids are metamorphmagus, his better half is Andromeda Black and his sister-in-law, Narcissa Malfoy is on their side; the Wizarding World will not know what hit them. Begins in Prisoner of Azkaban. Time Travel to summer of book three, similar (but different) premise to Disorder of the Phoenix and said premise is on steroids ;)
"Mapoppy?" Ophelia asked, tugging on her father's pant leg, "Percy took my spoon."
Harry didn't so much as glance away from his task, which was him trying to get the paint out of Wendy Bird's feathers. The little barn owl hooted sadly at him as he picked a yellow glob out of her chest feathers. There should have been spells to fix this but Wendy Bird had a bad reaction to cleaning spells.
"Then steal her spoon," Harry suggested.
There was a pause, a pitter patter of feet, another pause, a scream, a laugh, another pitter patter of feet on the hardwood floors, and then another pair of hands were tugging on Harry's pant leg.
"Mapoppy!" Persephone- who her sister's had nicknamed Percy, cried. "Ohli stole my spoon!"
"Then steal her spoon," Harry said, picking a speck of blue paint from Wendy Bird's outer left wing.
Harry paused, waiting, listening.
There was no sound coming from the other room.
He ran into the living room, chaos and noise was good, silence meant trouble. Wendy Bird flew to his shoulder, holding on for the short ride to the next room.
Trouble, turned out to be Narcissa Malfoy holding up a spoon in one hand and her wand in the other.
Ophelia and Persephone were glaring up at their aunt, arms crossed and waiting. They knew that no amount of screaming would earn them a reaction. Aunty Cissa would only accept the best behavior. If they had any hope of the silencing charm being removed, it was to stay still.
Morwenna and Teddy came out of nowhere, nearly knocking their aunt over in a joint hug.
"Potter," Narcissa hissed, "control your spawn."
"Who are you calling spawn?" Andromeda asked emerging out of the laundry room with a basket of potions.
"You should have stopped at one. The grandchild was cute enough."
"You just like boys better," Morwenna noted, not in the least bit offended.
All three Potter Sisters knew how much trouble they were. They weren't pranksters, but they were intelligent, powerful, and noisier than was healthy for anyone baring the surname Potter.
Teddy Lupin -being Andromeda's grandson, was biologically the nephew of Morwenna, Ophelia, and Persephone, but as Teddy was also Harry's godson, when people referred to the Potter Children, they included Teddy. There was one thing all of Andromeda's direct descendants held in common, they all had metamorphmagus abilities.
Harry Potter and Andromeda Tonks were not legally married but as they had been living with one another for over eleven years there was no question as to the kind of relationship that stood between them, nor did anyone doubt their commitment to each other - at least not anymore.
Harry smirked at Narcissa, "You're just jealous Cissa."
She gave him a cold look and said drily, "I assure, living vicariously is more than I need or want."
"For someone who complains so much about her relatives you sure do stop by often," Harry teased.
Andromeda grinned and went to go give her sister a hug, shewing Teddy and Morwenna back to their father.
Which is when a rather typical evening at the Potter House took a decidedly atypical turn.
A burst of flame lit up the living room to their modest home in Hogsmeade.
"Fawkes?" Harry asked, stunned. "I thought you went out when Albus-"
"I don't like this future," Fawkes the Phoenix said.
The room lapsed into silence. Phoenixes did not talk.
Teddy -the resident expert on all things non-human, said as much, "Phoenixes can't talk."
"No," Narcissa agreed, raising her wand at the firebird, "they can't."
Andromeda followed her example. Harry pulled out his wand but before he could so much as raise it, the house spontaneously set on fire.
Fawkes' voice sang through the room in a haunting, crackling lullaby, "There will be no way back, no way to undo what has been done."
The children screamed and three shield charms went up. Harry wrapped himself as best he could around Teddy and his three little girls.
The charms didn't stop the flames, the world they knew burned to ash.
Chapter 1 - From the Ashes
When next Harry opened his eyes he wasn't burnt to a crisp; which was good. When he loosened his death hold on his kids and none of them appeared to be hurt in any physical way which was even better.
Harry looked around the room and his familiarity with the space was wrong. He hadn't been in this room in over twelve years.
Harry's heart lurched as he turned his turned to look, and what he saw nearly brought tears to his eyes.
"Hedwig?" he whispered.
She glared at him reproachfully, or more precisely she glared at Wendy Bird clinging to his shoulder. Hedwig seemed oddly frazzled, her feathers standing at attention, her chest puffed out.
Errol, Ron's old owl, hooted a hello.
"Mapoppy?" Morwenna whispered, "What happened?"
Harry took a closer look around, "I'm not sure." But he had a bad feeling about the pile of ash on the ground.
He reached into that pile of ash, taking hold of his clearly younger Holly Wand - considering the lack of scratch marks, which sparked a spray of light at his touch.
"Mapoppy?" Teddy asked slowly, "Where are we?"
"The Dursleys'," Harry answered, "I think we were thrown back in time."
Had it been anyone elses' kids they would have all exclaimed or protested, but these were Potters, and while they might not know all of the adventures their father had been through they didn't doubt much of anything to be impossible.
Harry motioned for his girls to sit on the bed, putting a finger to his lips.
"Aunt Marge is here, get down here, boy!" Aunt Petunia shrieked up the steps.
Harry conjured a pair of fake glasses and handed them to Teddy.
Teddy cocked his head as Aunt Petunia called up the steps once more.
"Pretend to be me, don't use magic, but don't let them hit or hurt you," Harry instructed his godson.
Teddy's features shifted ever so slightly to fit Harry's features more than Andromeda's, mainly his raven black curls turned more wild. Teddy asked, "What do you want me to do?"
"Cause a distraction," Harry said. "We will meet under the light-post two houses to the left, I'll have an invisibility cloak around us so just know that we will be there."
Teddy nodded solemnly and turned to head out of the room.
"And Teddy," Harry said as they all heard the front door open.
Teddy turned back to look at him, emerald eyes to emerald eyes.
"Mess with them, won't you?"
Teddy Lupin's face lit up with a grin so mischievous it would have made any Marauder proud.
Lucius Malfoy was not having a pleasant evening. Not at all, mainly because while preparing for dinner in their suite, his wife Narcissa Malfoy néenee Black had spontaneously gone up in flames.
She had burned into a pile of ash quicker than he could think 'aguamenti'.
Her wand was all that was left in a pile of white-grey ash.
He knelt on the floor before her pyre, too stunned to feel, too shocked to know what he was supposed to be doing.
What am I going to tell Draco?
"Lucius," a blessedly familiar voice said from behind him.
He turned and enveloped Narcissa in a bone crushing hug. Hugging wasn't something they did often but then, he didn't watch his wife get burned to ash often either.
She pushed back from him, she looked around the room before she focused on his face. She cupped his cheeks in her hands before tracing his jawline into his hair, where her hands stayed. For a time she said nothing, just stared at his face as if she were trying to memorize it.
He frowned and put a hand to her cheek. Lucius was two years older than his wife, but now, she looked aged, not badly so, no age didn't have a knut on her beauty. But where had the years gone? He put a thumb to her cheek, grazed over the smile lines there, what had happened? He was so grateful she wasn't in cinders that he wasn't thinking straight, but apparently, she was.
"What year is it?" she asked, voice even.
"Summer 1993, Draco has another week at home. You time traveled?" his voice was as matter of fact as hers.
"You burned up, Narcissa. What happened? What year are you from? If your younger self burned up there is no way for you to go forward, not to the world you knew," he said, repeating what his father had told him. Pure blood lore was more like magical philosophy. And he was quite proud that he was able to treat this like one of those debates he had with his father all those years ago.
Her icy blue eyes seemed to cut him to the bone, and she released her hold on his hair. Taking a step away from him, she flicked her wrist and her wand that had been resting on the pile of ash flew to her hand.
Wandless magic, not the most surprising thing she could have done but not something she commonly did, "Narcissa did you hear me?"
"I heard you, and if there is no way for me to go back then there is no reason for us to repeat the mistakes of our past."
Lucius ran a hand through his hair, reordering it, "What mistakes?"
She gave him a shrewd look, "Harry Potter told me about the Basilisk."
Lucius froze and knew he was in a serious predicament. For all his wife's properness and lady-like tendencies, she was still a Black.
He had just been trying to get rid of the book and had not intended to release Slytherin's Monster. He knew as well as she did that the notion of a Basilisk being able to tell the difference between a mudblood and pure blood was ludicrous. Which meant he had put their son in danger, which meant he had no explanation that would satisfy her. So he focused instead on, "And you are on speaking terms with the Boy Who Lived?"
She smirked at him, and stalked back into his space, swaying her hips. And he felt like the sparrow caught in a serpent's jewel like gaze. "Harry Potter is no longer a boy," she put a hand on his chest and shoved him against a wall. He could have fought her.
But he valued his life -and other tender parts.
"The Dark Lord returns," she continued.
His heart stopped, just for a moment, just a brief little moment, but it was enough time for horror and dread to fill his heart. He had given away one of his Lord's items and it had been destroyed by Harry Potter himself. If the Dark Lord came back today...
"You are right to be afraid," Narcissa purred, pressing her body along the front of his.
His body did not stir at the sound of her purr, no, the cold sweat he had broken into only grew colder. His wife's wrath was a far more immediate threat than the Dark Lord coming back from the dead.
"He punished us for your stupidity, do you want to know what he did? What Tom Marvolo Riddle, half-blood, madman did to my son?"
Lucius didn't want to know, didn't want to imagine.
"He gave him to Greyback. Draco was sixteen Lucius, sixteen."
There were no words to express his sorrow at the very idea of such a loss.
She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and began to undo his cuff, he was too overloaded with information to pay attention to what she was doing. "You, my dear, foolish husband, are going to change your ways."
"Then we will die." Even in his outrage at his son's fate, that at least was clear to him. Betraying the Dark Lord meant certain death.
"Not if we kill him first," she said in a rich tone, rolling up his sleeve with gentle, precise motions. "Tomorrow you are going straight to see Severus Snape and you will tell him that you have changed sides. That like him, you will do what you can for the Potter Family and you will do everything to ensure Voldemort's downfall."
He jerked when she said that name. She said it without the least bit of fear.
"I can't do that," he said, "besides that, Severus is my closest friend, he is loyal to our cause."
"You will do just as I say, and Severus loved Lily Evans too well, when the Dark Lord plotted to kill her, he lost a loyal servant. A man far too good at keeping his thoughts to himself. A better spy I do not believe there ever lived."
"If the Dark Lord comes back we are dead," he hissed.
"No, because we will be backing Harry Potter, and if I believe the phoenix transported us all here, well then Albus Dumbledore has a new contender for 'Greatest Wizard of the Age'." She took a firmer hold on his wrist and she pressed her shoulder into his chest, as if bracing him against the wall.
"Harry Potter is nothing," Lucius said firmly.
She brought the tip of her wand to his forearm, "No, the madman that hurt my son is nothing. Tom Riddle will rue the day he ever met a Black."
Finally becoming suspicious about what she was doing, he asked, "What are you doi-"
He screamed, hunching forward against the pain as Narcissa, simultaneously skinned and burned the Dark Mark off his forearm.
It wasn't quite as bad as the Cruciatus Curse but every pain is individual, and at that moment, his mind didn't care that the rest of his body parts were fine. His full focus was narrowed down to the pain in his arm.
He nearly passed out. Despite the torture, despite trying to tug away from her grip, he didn't fight her off. No matter what anyone said about him, he loved his wife, and a part of him believed he deserved the torture she dealt him.
The thought of Draco being mutilated by a werewolf was unacceptable.
'Aunt Marge' was a vile person, a fact that did not take long for Teddy to deduce.
Her dog wasn't much better, and Teddy thought he got along well with most animals, but some pets reflected their owners - as this beast clearly did.
"'...Have you been beaten often?'" the pudgy woman asked him.
Beaten? Teddy thought, No, my parents never raised a hand to me, and no one else would dare.
Out loud he said in a cowed voice, "Yes, ma'am."
"Well, Vernon, he seems to have adopted the proper tone but you should encourage them to spare no force."
Teddy felt his jaw tick, and it took real effort not to let his eyes shift to his Grandmama's dark brown. Marge Dursley was talking about hurting his Mapoppy, hurting him when he had only been thirteen years old.
Teddy himself was only eleven but even he could understand how wrong that was, and worse yet that Vernon and Petunia Dursley seemed to agree with her, the very people who had raised Mapoppy. They were supposed to love him and it shouldn't have mattered that they weren't his real parents or that he was a wizard.
Teddy was going to make these people pay.
When he was asked or -rather ordered, to get everyone at the table a glass of water, Teddy slipped some powder into their drinks. Powder that had survived the trip through time in his pocket.
If it was placed in water it would cause a blaring shriek that only the drinkers could hear. Sort of like a muggle fire alarm that you couldn't run away from - though most people tried.
With slight of hand, Teddy placed some in Marge's glass of alcohol as she clearly wasn't going to drink the water any time soon. The powder didn't react well. Marge's face turned green the minute after she took a large gulp and then it wasn't a sound in her head making a wailing noise, it came out of her mouth. She swept her arm across the table and when her glass hit the ground a dark forest green smoke started billowing into the room.
Teddy would have to tell Uncle Fred and George what had happened, they would like to know what mixing alcohol and their party crasher did together.
Teddy didn't have long to think on that because Vernon roared at him, "What have you done, boy!?" Before throwing a chair at his head.
Dodging out of the room, Teddy ran from his father's childhood home as fast as he could.
That, Teddy thought, is no home.
"Dad!" Nymphadora yelled running into the room, wand raised. "What's wrong? What's happening!?"
Ted was on his knees before a pile of ash. Only her wand remained. Andromeda had caught fire and burned to dust before she had the chance to scream.
"Dad? Dad? What happened? What's that on the floor?" His daughter asked, a hand on his shoulder, almost shaking him.
It's your mother, he thought but he couldn't say it aloud. It had happened so fast, too fast. But she was gone.
No one came back from ashes but for phoenixes.
Ted stood, spinning so fast that Dora had to catch him for balance.
But it was Dora, so between the two of them there was no balance to be found and they tumbled to the floor.
With an omph, Dora protested, "Dad! What is wrong with you?"
Andromeda knelt beside them, staring at them as if she were beholding something impossible.
"Dromeda," he began, voice rough, "What happened? You burst into flames. Are you okay?"
She said nothing, she just stared at him, at Dora. She stared at them as if her eyes were hungry for the sight of them.
"Mum, what's wrong with you? And Dad, what do you mean she burst into flames? She doesn't look burned to me," Dora noted, the confusion clear on her face, her pink hair slowly turning lemon yellow.
Ted watched his wife's face drain of color and her first words were not a comfort.
"You're real?" she asked, her voice smaller and more vulnerable than he'd ever heard it. Her garnet gaze seemed filled with an unspeakable sorrow and she- she looked oddly older.
Ted slept every night beside this woman, and he was seeing lines on her face that he would have sworn were not there yesterday.
"Dromeda, what's happened?" he asked.
"You can't be real," she said in the same weak voice.
Weak wasn't something he had ever associated with his wife. He sat forward, put a hand to her cheek and pulled her into a kiss.
At first, her lips were frozen under his, and then, as if reluctant, she kissed him back, slowly, questioningly. He kissed her more solidly, pulling into the circle of his arms.
After a moment he tasted salt, a wet saltiness, and she pushed back from him, tears falling down her cheeks.
Ted wasn't sure he had ever seen his wife cry before, and certainly not like this.
"Mum?" Dora asked, sitting on the floor confused beside them. "Mum, what happened to you?"
Like a viper striking, Dromeda launched at Dora, wrapping her arms around her in a too tight hug.
"Mum!" Dora exclaimed.
But what his wife said next poured ice water into his veins; "You're alive. You are both alive."
She said it like a litany, like an answered prayer, like a miracle. Ted Tonks didn't like anything that seemed to be happening, not one little bit.
Morwenna, as the oldest of the Potter Sisters, was the tallest. Like her mother, she wore her hair in dark brown curls, she typically had her father's emerald gaze, and perhaps the main feature that set her apart from her sisters was that she had added a darker tan to her skin. As Andromeda and Harry were almost painfully pale, it set her apart. She did it for a very simple reason, she liked the sun.
Morwenna loved the sun and visited the Delacour family in France every time her best friend - when discounting her siblings, Verona Weasley went to go see her grandparents. Her two younger sisters did not care for the sun as she did, and aside from the green eyes often looked like mini-mama's.
Morwenna wondered if they would ever see Mama again. But she trusted Mapoppy who seemed not only to be calm, but had sent Teddy to deal with the Dursleys, alone.
She had only met Mapoppy's cousin, Dudley, once, she thought he was sort of dumb, but from the stories, Mapoppy told or rather didn't tell she knew that the Dursleys were not kind people.
Standing on the dark muggle street, pressed to the side of Mapoppy's leg with Ophelia - Persephone still being held by Mapoppy, they waited in silence for Teddy to meet them.
They didn't have to wait long. There was a puff of green smoke that burst out the back windows and Teddy, who looked like a Mini-Mapoppy, came running full tilt down the empty street.
There was a rustling in some nearby bushes, and Morwenna whispered, "Mapoppy, the bushes."
But, of course, Mapoppy already had his wand raised, "Don't worry, it's just Sirius, I almost forgot about him."
She recognized the color of a stunner that shot towards the bush, Teddy reached them just as something heavy seemed to collapse in the bushes.
Mapoppy slipped of the invisibility cloak and handed it to Morwenna who wrapped it around herself, Teddy, and Ophelia.
"What was the green smoke?" Morwenna asked.
"I had some of Uncle Georgie's party crasher in my pocket. Turns out it doesn't mix well with alcohol," he said, "Mapoppy, I think I might have gotten you disowned."
Mapoppy emerged from the bush, a - well if she hadn't known he was alive she'd say a corpse, over his shoulder, Persephone still in his other arm. "That's alright, I don't need them. Grab onto my legs you three, let's go see Mama."
"So, you're from the future and we both die after You Know Who comes back from the dead and starts another war."
"Yes," she said, sipping from a teacup. She was ignoring the fact that there were still fresh tear tracks on her face.
Ted sighed, running a hand over his face, "How many years exactly? And how did you survive the war?"
She opened her mouth, closed it, shook her head gently, and said in a voice so hard, so heavy, he felt a lump form in his own throat from, "I didn't fight, I stayed with the grandbaby."
"Wait, I have a kid?" Dora asked, perturbed.
Ted didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't know how to feel about any of this. People did not time travel back years and replace their former selves and healers didn't die in wars, and he was too young to be a grandfather, and what other horrors, what other bombshells did his wife have left for him?
A knock sounded on the door.
"I'll get it!" Dora exclaimed, rushing to the door, knocking her chair over in the process. "Hello-?
There was a long silence.
"Dora, who is it?" Ted called.
"Harry Potter?" she called back, sounding confused.
If Ted hadn't been watching his wife's face, he might not have seen the wash of relief sweep across her features.
"Can I put him on the couch?" an unfamiliar voice asked.
"Sirius Black!?" Dora exclaimed, "Is that Sirius Black!? I have to cal-"
"He's innocent, Nymphadora, just ask your mother, speaking of whom, where is she?" the man said -who couldn't be Harry Potter because Harry Potter was a thirteen year old boy.
"MAMA!" a little girl's voice cried.
That cry seemed to give Dromeda strength because she stood and swept out of the kitchen, almost running toward the sound of their guests, one being a little girl who was not his daughter calling his wife 'mama', another being a man who should be a boy, and the other being an escaped Death Eater from an inescapable prison who had been convicted of mass murder.
Because this day couldn't get any weirder, a thought that was immediately proven incorrect.
When he entered the room, Sirius Black unconscious on his couch, there was a boy who looked like he should have been Harry Potter, two girls clinging to each other - the back halves of their bodies invisible, a rather handsome man standing with yet another girl in his arms. The girls looked like his wife but for the green eyes, and lots, and lots of freckles, and the oldest having tanned skin.
Nymphadora watched in the same fascinated horror that he did as his wife, his wife stepped into the arms of another man and kissed him soundly.
Andromeda pulled back from him saying, "Harry, is everyone alright? Was anyone hurt?"
But in pulling away, 'Harry Potter' met Ted's gaze over her shoulder.
Ted was instantly filled with a loathing so strong he had never known it's like. He was beyond angry, felt beyond betrayed.
"Andromeda," he ground out.
She spun, staring at him as she'd only just remembered he existed.
It was that look that broke his heart, and her hand that reached back for the comfort of another man's touch the killed a part of him that would never heal.
"Ted," she whispered an apology, a plea, and something else he could not decipher distorting her voice.
"Mum? What the hell is going on?" Dora asked.
For Harry Potter's part, he said nothing, merely held what had to be his daughter closer to him, and Andromeda's hand more firmly in his. There was no anger or victory on the other man's face, just a wary sorrow that Ted could not begin to understand.
But whatever caused that particular look on his face, Ted did not care. All he knew was that his life had been uprooted, and this younger man was directly responsible for everything wrong with Ted Tonks' world.
AN: Thoughts, reactions, hopes, dreams, please, please share with me?