Hours later, light was starting to flit into Harry’s room when he was abruptly jerked out of sleep by a sudden shot of anxiety. The ghostly figure of the girl stood over him, her face spread in an ugly smile. She reached out for him. On instinct, Harry gasped and scrambled back on the bed. He blinked and the figure was gone, leaving Harry and his racing heart alone. Breathing heavily, Harry looked around his room. It was just a dream.

His father was snoring on the easy chair beside Harry’s bed, his glasses still on his face and a book open on his lap. The pit of anxiety in Harry’s chest shifted to a warm calm. He was barely surprised his Dad had snuck in to watch over him during the night. The idea that he might be able to take stuff like that for granted  soothed him even more than the presence in the room. Quietly, Harry slid out of bed to the floor and spread the spare woollen afghan over James’ sleeping form.

He was about to go back into bed when he heard a crash from downstairs. James grunted and moved his head but continued to snore. Curious, Harry snuck to the door, his heart starting to pound in his chest again. The vague sound of movement downstairs caused Harry to grab his wand off of his dressing table. He looked back to his father, briefly considering waking him, but the sound was likely nothing and he didn’t want to be troublesome.

Wand firmly in hand, Harry creeped down the stairs past the entrance, through the living room to the kitchen. It was in complete disarray. Every pot, plate and food product was pulled out of the shelves. The fridge stood open, its contents spread all over the stove and counter tops. His mother was on the floor, on her hands and knees, scrubbing. She didn’t look up at Harry’s entrance and seemed to be muttering to herself.

“Mom?” Harry asked, frowning in confusion. A large clock read 5am. Lily jerked her head up from the floor, surprise on her pretty face.

“Harry, sweetheart, what are you doing up?” She got to her feet slowly, as though she had been on her knees for a while.

“Just woke up and heard something,” Harry muttered looking around the turned out kitchen. Lily followed Harry’s eye line.

“Your Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are coming here instead,” Lily said by means of explanation, forcing a smile. “Won’t that be fun?” Harry blinked at his clearly frazzled mother, trying to fight the urge to laugh. Harry was certain that, no matter what world he lived in, having Aunt Petunia as a house guest would not be fun. Harry hoped they left Dudley at home, maybe he didn’t exist.

“Dudley too?” asked Harry. Lily flicked her wand at the stove and the oven handle split in to two hands. The stove grabbed the dishtowel with one of its hands and started to wash itself, humming slightly. She gave Harry a knowing, but slightly warning smile.

“Yes, love, Dudley too,” she said, pouring a glass of water and handing it to him. He hadn’t realized he was thirsty until she gave it to him and smiled thankfully at her. With a tired sigh, she leaned against the cabinet.

“Are you sure you feel ok?” asked Lily, looking him over critically. Harry nodded and drank his water. The stood in companionable silence for a while, Harry drinking and his mother attempting to decide what part of the kitchen to act on. After a moment, his mother started scrubbing the floor again. Feeling awkward that he wasn’t doing anything while she was scrubbing, Harry instinctively started to wipe at the counter.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have do that. It’s early, you should go back to bed and get some rest,” said Lily, intently scrubbing a perfectly clean patch on the floor. Harry watched her for a moment.

“I don’t mind,” Harry said quietly as he started to organize the wealth of spices laid out on the counter. Lily just continued to scrub. “Mom, why are you doing all of this?” Lily signed and sat back on her heels. She gave Harry a wry little smile.

“One day, love, Grace, or Amelia, or Sirius will come visit you, and you’ll want…” She trailed off, looking a little lost in thought. She smiled at Harry and crossed her arms.

“Actually, hopefully you won’t care at all what your house looks like when your siblings come to see you.” There was a touch of wistfulness in her expression as she went back to scrubbing the floor.

He wondered if Aunt Petunia had hated Lily for having magic the entire time they were growing up as well, and felt a swell of camaraderie with his mother. He knew what it was like to crave Aunt Petunia’s affection and get nothing in return.

 As a young child he had done everything he could think of to get on the Dursley’s good side. He did every chore without a word of complaint, gave them every class craft he had made, tried to be polite, loving and nonintrusive. It never worked, they just hit him, yelled at him, or worst of all, ignored him.

 At around eight, after Vernon had broken his arm, Harry told himself that he no longer cared what the Dursley’s thought of him, that they were vile and cruel and beneath him. He told himself that, but he was never able to fully believe it. He had never completely stopped craving their approval. It seemed like his mother had the same fate. Harry grabbed a cloth, knelt down beside Lily and scrubbed the floor.  

After an hour or so, Harry and Lily had fully scrubbed the kitchen, rearranged the dining room and dusted all the photos and trinkets. James walked down the stairs still in his clothes from last night, his hair strewn everywhere like trampled wildflowers. He rubbed a crink in his neck and blinked tiredly at the sparkling kitchen and nearly immaculate living room, then looked at Lily.

“I thought we were going there,” James said, a slight whine in his voice. Lily walked over to him a playful smile on her face.

“I love you,” said Lily teasingly. She looped her arms around James’ neck and blinked doishly up at him. The displeasure faded slightly from his face and he leaned down and kissed her. Lily responded enthusiastically. When they pulled apart James looked over to find Harry watching them.

“What no comment? You just gagged in your mouth? You can never have friends over? We’re ruining your life?” said James, still holding Lily loosely by the waist. Harry offered a crooked smile and shook his head.

“No, it’s - nice,” said Harry. James and Lily exchanged raised eyebrows.

“Wow, you really did do a number on your head,” James said walking over and ruffling Harry’s hair.

“Is it wrong I hope he stays this way?” asked Lily kissing Harry on the cheek then winking at him. “He helped me clean this morning.” James pulled eggs and bacon out of the fridge. As he twirled his wands the eggs obediently hopped out of the container and split open over a bowl.

“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” replied James as he caused a hunk of bacon to jump into the pan and start to fry. Lily came back behind him, and they kissed again.

“EW!” exclaimed Sirius, bursting down the stairs in his pyjamas. “You guys are so gross.” Behind him, Grace, still in her nightgown was watching her parents with a faint look of disgust. James laughed pulling away from Lily who rolled her eyes. Lily opened her arms and Sirius decided he wasn’t too disgusted to hug her. He wrapped his arms around her fleetingly than ran into the kitchen.

“Oh! Bacon!” he yipped gleefully.

“Pancakes too?” asked Grace, lifting up her arms. James lifted her on to his hip and walked her over to the table. “With happy faces?”

“Yes, love.  Sirius, grab the plates, would you, and…Hey! don’t eat the bacon out of the pan you’ll burn yourself…and where is your - ah” James said, smiling fondly at Amelia who was already fully dressed in a neat green dress and a sleek ponytail, her nose buried behind her book.  Automatically, she sat down at the table with a vague “morning”.

“SIRIUS IS EATING ALL THE BACON!” Grace hollered indignantly, standing on her chair and pointing at Sirius who had two pieces of bacon hanging out of his mouth. The pancakes were starting to smoke and Lily raced over to flip them as James caused cutlery to fly through the air towards the table, nearly forking her in face. Automatically, Lily ducked, flipping the pancakes with one hand and pulling Sirius away from the bacon with the other.

“Plates. Table. Now.” Harry sat beside Amelia and watched the loud cacophony of morning preparations. Pancake batter now lined the floor, and Sirius seemed to be making as much noise as he possibly could about getting the plates as some form of protest, Lily lectured James about the stupidity of summoning pointy objects, and Grace was loudly demanding that Sirius’ bacon pilfering be taken into account when determining portion sizes. Once Harry got past the chaos and noise, he found the crazed morning lack-of-routine preferable to the fussy affairs Aunt Petunia preferred. When the food was dolled out and Amelia’s book was pulled away, the whole thing was downright pleasant. Until Lily casually broke the news that the Dursley’s were coming. The mood in Harry’s nauseatingly perfect family turned considerably darker.

“They have very kindly offered to visit us this year so Harry could rest,” explained Lily. Grace stopped mid-chew to blink incredulously at her mother, and Amelia started to worry her lip between her teeth. Sirius turned a murderous glare towards Harry who felt his cheeks blush with embarrassment.  

“You know the rules,” James cut in seamlessly. “No magic toys, no pretend magic and no speaking of magic.” Amelia rolled her eyes.

“That’s stupid,” she said softly. “Just because they’re afraid.” Amelia’s soft displeasure was apparently not enough for Sirius who rushed in to buttress her argument.

“And why do we have to see them at all?” he asked sourly, crossing his arms and skulking down in his chair. “We hate them.” He did not have the sensitivity to see the stricken look on Lily’s face, but James did and he immediately cut in.

“That’s enough!” he said firmly. “Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon and Dudley are your family. There is nothing in this world more important than family. You will all understand that one day when you grow up and have children of your own. You will not mention magic. You will be kind and polite, and you will be thankful you have family to come see you. Do you understand?”  Harry got the feeling that James typically didn’t do most of chastising, because as he gave each of the children a stern look, they all looked looked down guiltily and nodded.

“Alright then, finish up and get changed,” he said tersely, returning to his breakfast to stab moodily at his pancakes. The cheerful chatter was gone from the table as they all lapsed into sulky silence. Only Harry was pleased, because he now knew there was no way this was some perfect fantasy world. He grinned to himself and happily munched the last of his bacon.

Harry’s happiness that his life was not a perfect fantasy was relatively short-lived. Grace, dismayed at having her talking teddy bear hidden away with all the other magical toys and objects, was now sniffing back tears as she shifted uncomfortably at the table in an over-frilled periwinkle blue dress and shiny patent leather shoes. For the past five minutes Sirius and Lily had been yelling at full volume about Sirius’ refusal to wear a dress shirt.

“I DON’T WANT TO,” yelled Sirius. Harry’s head was starting to hurt. Amelia sat curled up on the couch with her book, seemingly oblivious to the chaos. Harry looked at her enviously as he rubbed his temples.

“How do you tune them out?” asked Harry finally. Amelia looked over the top of her book with a gentle smile.

“NOW, SIRIUS!” Lily yelled back, matching him decibel-for-decibel.

“Practice,” she said before turning back to her book. The throbbing was getting worse, and Harry rubbed his head. Her eyes flicked back to him from her book and narrowed slightly.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry nodded tiredly.

“Maybe I should get Mom or Dad,” she whispered, putting her book down. Harry was about to brush her off when there was a sudden pop from upstairs, which was followed by Sirius’ indignant scream. Both Amelia and Harry looked up at the noise. A second later, Sirius came racing down the stairs in a shirt and tie, looking apoplectic with rage.

“Sirius Potter, you get back here this instant,” demanded Lily. Sirius didn’t even slow but walked over to the writing desk at the far end of the living room, picked up the inkwell and dumped it all over his shirt without a second’s hesitation. He glared defiantly at Lily who gaped back, speechless. Grace, Amelia and Harry looked between the parties in silent awe.

“Alright, everything magical is locked away,” said James cheerily. He turned the corner in to the living room and stopped at the scene in front of him. It took him only the briefest of seconds to figure out what had happened, and he burst out in laughter. Sirius’ eyes flashed triumphantly, and Lily glared daggers at him. Hurriedly, James collected himself.

“That is not funny, James. Look at the state of him!” Lily said, though Harry swore he saw the slightest hint of laughter in her eye.

“It’s alright,” said James, he whipped out his wand and flicked it at Sirius and the carpet. Both were spotless and Sirius looked distinctly grumpy again. “He’s just messing around. No harm done.”

“That’s not the point, James,” Lily said taking a step towards him. “He just yelled at me and dumped an inkwell all over his very expensive suit. That behaviour is unacceptable. You can’t just magic everything away.” Harry could tell James wanted to say that apparently he could, but he just put his hands up placatingly.

“Alright, you’re right. But I will talk to him,” said James as Lily moved to talk to Sirius again. “Your sister should be at the edge of the wards anytime now.” The colour drained from Lily’s face and she nodded and grabbed her coat from the back of the chair. As soon as she walked out the door James sighed and walked over to Sirius who was staring at the ground with his arms crossed defiantly. James knelt down in from of him, uncrossed Sirius’ arms, and took both the boy’s hands in his.

“Lovey, you know how your Mom gets with your Aunt,” said James gently. Sirius raised his eyes to look into James’, a slight bit of guilt lurked behind the defiance and James capitalized on it.

“She needs you to help her out right now, and after all she does for you, I think you can do this for her, right?” After a long second, Sirius deflated slightly and nodded. James reached up and gently tapped the boy’s cheek.

“Thank you.”

Although Harry wished it could have been hours, it was mere moments before the door opened, this time with Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice preceding the party into the house.

“He’s such a popular boy. Aren’t you, Diddiekins?” Harry looked over to Sirius, who caught his eye and pretended to retch. There was never anyone there to hate the Dursley’s with Harry, and he found this new state of affairs highly pleasing.

“I’m very glad to hear that, Dudley,” Lily said. “Come on through to the living room.” At this, Grace popped out of her chair to hide behind James’ legs, Sirius fixed a deep scowl on his face, and Amelia closed her book with a sigh.

Without further warning, Aunt Petunia wearing a salmon dress and strained smile entered the living room with Uncle Vernon and Dudley, who were both as fat and neckless as Harry remembered. Uncle Vernon strolled into the living room and examined the house with the clear air of someone who was passing judgement, while Dudley immediately headed for the food.

“Hello Dudley,” James said with a bemused smile at the boy past him without so much as a greeting. “Vernon.” The two men shook hands quickly then James pecked Aunt Petunia formally on the cheek.

“Kids, say hello to your Aunt and Uncle,” instructed Lily. The Potter children observed the severe face of Aunt Petunia and the red, disgruntled face of Uncle Vernon, and returned the unwelcoming glances with half-hearted “hellos”.

After that, the children were largely ignored, for which Harry was immensely grateful. He sat in silence, squished on the couch between his father and Grace, with Lily and Sirius beside her. Amelia sat on the armchair beside Sirius and the Dursley’s all sat on the couch across the coffee table.

The Dursley’s were about as pleasant as Harry remembered them to be which, while being unfortunate for the rest of the family, did add some welcome consistency to Harry’s life. Uncle Vernon made a variety of disparaging comments about the fact that Harry’s father stayed at home while Lily worked, all of which James took good-naturedly. Aunt Petunia was currently providing an increasingly annoyed-looking Lily with cleaning tips.

“I saw it on a TV special. You see those water spots on your wall there, Lily? If you use a bit of a vinegar and lemon, they should come right off,” Petunia explained, not with the warm air of a sister giving advice, but in a rather condescending tone clearly made to pick at Lily’s failures. Before she could respond, Grace leaned up from where she had been slouching miserably on the couch and whispered into Lily’s ear with excitement. Whatever the little girl said made Lily smile.

“Well, why don’t you ask her yourself?” replied Lily. Grace, usually extremely talkative, cowed a little at this, but spoke when Aunt Petunia fixed her eyes on her.

“Do you have a TV?” whispered Grace with soft wonder. Vernon gawked at the girl, and even Dudley took a break from eating to stare at her with wonder.

“Of course we have a TV!” growled Uncle Vernon. “What, you think we are pauper’s who can’t afford a television set?” Grace’s question was innocent, and she retreated back into the couch, confused at the negative reaction. Lily put her arm around her.

“Vernon, most wizarding children don’t have television. She was just curious,” Lily explained, smiling reassuringly down at Grace and tucked a strand of red hair behind her ears.

“Gracie loves films,” James explained, suddenly looking at though he felt like he was on solid footing with the Muggles. “We took the children to see A Christmas Carol in London. She hasn't stopped talking about it since.”

“So, you can watch all the movies you like?” asked Grace in awe, sitting forward on her chair now. Harry noticed that this even managed to catch Amelia and Sirius’ interest. Vernon looked at the questioning little faces in front of him and puffed himself up importantly.

“We have all the latest movies and three television sets,” he said proudly.

“Wow!” gasped Grace. She turned to grin at Lily, who smiled warmly back.

“Get the girl a television set, Potter,” Uncle Vernon said, winking at Grace who smiled back with a giggle.

“It’s under advisement,” James said, side-stepping the thorny issue that Grace’s magic would likely cause the set to explode.

“A Christmas Carol was always your Grandmother’s favourite,” Aunt Petunia said to Grace with an odd stiffness. She had been quiet ever since James had mentioned the movie and now she was looking at Grace with reluctant fondness. Lily looked over Grace’s head at Petunia, and the two sisters exchanged a look, that, for the briefest of moments, seemed to hint at a connection.

“I think it is just wonderful,” replied Grace with such open sincerity it was impossible not to feel a touch of her wonder. The faintest beginning of a smile appeared on Aunt Petunia’s face, which was more than Harry could remember ever accomplishing in his past life.

At that exact moment, the fire flared green and Petunia shrieked, dropping her teacup on the floor.  Dudley had jumped from his chair near the fire. Harry, who had never seen this happen in the Wizarding World, jumped in shock as well.

“James, Lily?” called a warm, male voice. The shadow of a man’s face appeared in the fire, which caused Uncle Vernon to jump to his feet and grab Aunt Petunia back from the fireplace.

“It’s like a telephone -” explained Lily weakly to her sister, and sure enough, it seemed to be a common enough occurrence because Amelia, Grace and Sirius all sprang out of their seats and ran towards the fire.

“Uncle Remus!” cried Sirius in unrestrained delight. “How are you?” Before he could answer, Amelia cut him off.

“You’re coming for Christmas, aren’t you?” she asked hopefully.

“Hello Darlings,” replied Remus’ voice with a laugh. “Not until the New Year, I’m afraid. But don’t you worry, all your presents are on their way. Is your father around?” James was stumbling quickly to the fireplace, throwing apologetic looks at the other adults in the room.

“Uncle Remus! Uncle Remus, guess what! Harry fell off his broom and can’t remember anything. It’s so silly,” said Grace with a laugh. At least one of them found the situation amusing.

“I heard, pet. How’s he do -”

“Remus, it’s not a good time,” hissed James, looking over his shoulder at the horrified faces of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. “Lily’s sister is here.”

“Oh is she?” replied Remus cooly. “I can’t believe she hasn’t cursed that little bit -”

“REMUS” There was a long pause. Sirius’ mouth was rounded in shocked laughter and Amelia clapped her hands to her white face. It only took one look at Lily’s horrified face to wipe the smile off of Harry’s face.

“Oh Merlin, they’re in the room, aren't they? Lily, I am so sorry. I’ll uhm, call back later. Give Harry a kiss from me,” said Remus before quickly disappearing from view. James got to his feet to address the gobsmacked crowd in front of him. Harry made a mental note to figure out who the hell this Remus character was.

“Sorry, he’s living in America, right now. He’s sore he doesn’t get to see the children for Christmas. It’s made him downright testy, in fact.” James offered awkwardly. Lily put her face in her hands with a little groan.

“People just barge their heads into your home! That’s barbaric!” yelped Uncle Vernon.

“Agreed,” said James, raising his hands plaintively, and looking at Lily for guidance.

“We should probably go,” Aunt Petunia said stiffly, her horrified face giving way to impassive anger.

“No, Tuney. Please don’t go,” Lily said quickly, getting to her feet. “I’m sorry for Remus, really. He just knows we fight sometimes, is all. Please don’t go.” Harry had the distinct feeling that this request was often denied by Petunia. His Aunt’s fact was still hard but after a moment she sat back down on the couch.

“Hey!” said Amelia indignantly. “Sirius took my book!”

“I’m bored!” whined Sirius when Lily turned an angry look on him. Still, he grudgingly handed his sister her book back.

“Ok, ok, Harry, love, please take your cousin and siblings downstairs,” James said, cutting in before Lily and Sirius could fight. “Play a game or something ok?” Harry looked at his father skeptically. He had no memory of acting like a big brother and was sure he’d screw it up. Still, he could tell by his father’s tense voice that he clearly needed a respite.

“Alright, sure,” said Harry standing up and walking towards the entrance, vaguely unsure of where to go. After a few steps Grace trotted beside him, put her small hand in his and let him to a door near the back of the house. It opened up to a staircase and they all climbed down into the basement.  

“I can’t believe that you don’t have a computer,” said Dudley, looking despondently around the room as he descended down the stairs. “What do you do all day?” Books, various games and a wealth of art supplies lined the wall, and this was only the stuff that wasn’t magical.

“I don’t know,” said Harry, hoping to engage with Dudley the minimal amount possible. Amelia had already perched on the couch to read, functionally tuning Dudley out. At the moment, Harry envied her focus and intellect.

“This is boring,” Sirius wined after a long moment of silence. “I wanna go flying.” Harry agreed. He’d rather be flying, or sleeping.

“You can’t fly,” said Dudley derisively. Sirius opened his mouth to respond, but Harry, sensing danger in the flash of his eyes and flush of his cheeks, stepped in.

“Let’s just play a game, ok?” said Harry, giving Sirius a warning look and feeling truly like a big brother for the first time since his head injury. Sirius shrugged with a grumpy expression, but walked over to the cupboard with Harry to choose a game. The relative merits of Monopoly and Scrabble, the only games that had no pieces that moved on their own, barked instructions or danced, were being debated when an indignant “HEY” got their attention.

Dudley was standing over Amelia, holding her book in the air. The least confrontational of all the Potters. she just glowered back at Dudley, her jaw clenched in anger.

“Give it back,” ground out Sirius beside Harry. His fist were clenched in two little balls and he looked moments away from baring his teeth. The effect was almost dog-like. Clearly, any teasing of family members was to be done by Sirius and Sirius alone.

“That’s not nice,” whispered Grace.

“I said give it back. Leave her alone!” said Sirius fiercely.

Dudley lumbered a few steps towards Sirius, making the hair on the back of Harry’s neck stand up.

“No.” He tossed the book carelessly on the floor, causing the pages to crinkle.

“Sirius, it’s alright,” Amelia said softly, grabbing the book off of the floor and smoothing the pages back.  She watched the growing fight with wide-eyes.

 At 11, Dudley loomed large over both Harry and Amelia but was positively beast-like compared with the 7-year-old Sirius. In Harry’s recollection, he never had any problem hitting those who were smaller than him.

“Dudley, stop it.” Harry said finally stepping beside his brother. The air was starting to crackle dangerously, and Harry could feel magic pulsing off of Sirius.

“Make me,” said Dudley, taking a threatening step towards Sirius. This was the wrong tact for Dudley to take. The words were barely out of his mouth before Sirius threw himself at the larger boy, ineffectually hitting him around the stomach. Dudley threw him to the ground and pummelled him in the face. Grace screamed and ran to kick Dudley in the ribs.

“Sirius!” yelped Amelia. Harry rushed forward to yank Dudley off of the smaller boy, but before he could. A huge, invisible force caused Dudley to fly backwards and be jerked up into the air. As though he was some stage actor on cables, Dudley remained suspended near the basement ceiling, revolving in a slow circle, screaming.

The door at the top of the stairs swung open and the adults peered down at them in various states of distress. Aunt Petunia saw Dudley and screamed.

“DUDLEY! Get down from there!” she yelped. She raced down the stairs and reached up to the ceiling even though she clearly could not reach him him. Sirius was still on the floor with a nasty split lip and a burgeoning bruise on his cheek looking more than a little dazed. Knowing well how being punched by Dudley felt, Harry reached down and pulled the younger boy to his feet.

“You ok?” Harry asked gently. Sirius nodded, testing his split lip with his tongue.

“It’s alright, Petunia,” said Lily desperately, reaching her hands out to her wailing sister. “Underage witches and wizards can’t control their magic well, especially at Sirius’ age. It’s probably just a suspension spell, really, easy to fix.” But this only incensed Vernon who had just finished lumbering down the stairs.

“GET HIM DOWN!” he yelled. James was the only one of the adults whose narrowed eyes had focused in on the four wizarding children.

“What happened here?” James demanded, sounding truly angry for the first time in Harry’s recollection. His eyes flickered from Grace, to Sirius, to Harry, to Amelia in quick session. The bruises on Sirius’ face were a clear tip-off, and James stared at the boy, unwavering.

“We fought,” Sirius said, thrusting his chin up defiantly even as his voice betrayed nervousness. “He hit me and I pushed him back, that’s all!”

“Clearly, that’s not all!” James said, the raised voice causing Sirius to flinch slightly and move closer to Harry who was half-watching Lily lower a wailing Dudley to the ground and trying not to think that, despite the situation, Dudley as a great blimp made a truly hilarious image.

“It was Dudley’s fault. He stole my book and hit Sirius, and he’s bigger,” said Amelia quietly but firmly. The statement barely caught James’ attention as he continued to glower at Sirius.

“How many times, Sirius? You have to be careful. Your magic is strong you cannot just let it out whenever you bloody well feel like it.” Guilt started to blend into the defiance on Sirius’ face but the boy didn’t quail. The boxes on the shelves started to quake as Sirius crossed his arms angrily. The diffuse energy of uncontrolled magic permeated the air like electricity on a hot night. Boxes fell off of the shelf causing Petunia and Dudley to shriek. Horrified and angry, Petunia advanced on Sirius.

“You did this! You should be locked up, all of you!” she continued, rabidly looking from face-to-face. Lily had gone white, and James was frozen. Grace started to cry. Amelia bit her lip, ducking her head to hide behind the curtain of hair. Only Sirius, who seemed to attract so much trouble that getting yelled at barely fazed him, and Harry, who had too many memories of the Dursley’s yelling at him to care, stared back at Aunt Petunia.

“He hit me first,” said Sirius with an emphatic gesture towards Dudley. A cruel sneer, usually reserved for Harry on his worst days, crossed Aunt Petunia’s face and she pulled back her hand and smacked Sirius hard across the face. Sirius had not been expecting the blow and let out a gasp of surprise and touched his already bruised cheek. Tears filled his eyes, but before anyone but Harry could notice, he sprinted towards the staircase. Amelia and Grace followed at his heels. Harry was so stunned by the event that he missed the white-hot look of rage on Lily’s face.

“You hit my son!” roared Lily pulling out her wand and advancing on Petunia with a truly frightening expression. Although she regarded the wand fearfully, Petunia didn’t have the capacity to remain silent.

“That little freak cursed my son!” Petunia yelled back.

“He did not curse him! He just restrained him and only because your kid was bullying his sister and beating him up,” responded Lily, her anger increasing with every word. Harry watched in silent awe, hoping very much he was going to see his mother curse Aunt Petunia.

“Lil, he’s fine, put it down,” James said in a voice Harry imagined doctors used to speak to the mentally ill. Lily didn’t listen, just continued to train her wand on her sister whose defiant glare hadn’t once softened.

“Harry, go check on your brother please,” James said, his attention still focused on the scene. Wanting to see the end, Harry opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind at the firm set of his father’s jaw. He urned to run up the stairs, leaving Lily and Petunia to hurl insults and loud recriminations at one another.

It donned on him that he didn’t know where Sirius or Sirius’ bedroom was.  He followed the stairs all the way up to the third floor and knew he guessed right when he heard soft voices coming from a room at the end of the hall. Hesitantly, Harry pushed the door open.

The room was as big as Harry’s, but painted a light green and much messsier, littered with toys and clothes. Sirius lay on the bed tucked away in the far corner facing the wall. Amelia sat beside him quietly while Grace was prodding at him in an attempt to garner a reaction.

“Don’t be sad, Sirius,” she said, sounding near tears herself. “Look, here.” She grabbed a teddy bear from the of the bed and held it out to him. The boy made no move to take it. Harry walked around the heaps of toys and clothing on the floor and sat on the bed next to Sirius feeling distinctly awkward. Although they were apparently not real, Harry had memory after memory of collapsing in to his cupboard in tears when he was Sirius’ age and knew all to well how much it hurt. The boy wasn't crying though, just staring at the wall in stoney silence, the bruise on his face purpling rapidly.

“Does it still hurt?” Harry asked quietly, wondering if he should be getting some sort of first aid kit.

“No,” muttered Sirius, drawing further into himself. There were few memories Harry had to draw on of being comforted, and he wasn’t altogether sure what to do. Hesitantly, he put a hand on the small shoulder. After a second, the tense set of Sirius’ shoulders softened. Before he could think of anything to say, the door burst open and James was standing there. His cheeks still had two, angry spots of colour, but his expression softened when he saw Sirius who had turned from the wall to peer at his father uncertainly. James gave the boy a small smile and opened his arms.

In a flash, Sirius launched himself across the room into his father’s arms, tears streaming down his face. James held him tightly and rested his lips on the black mop of hair. It was the first time in Harry’s recollection that the boy truly looked as young as he was.

“Alright, monkey, its alright. I’m sorry I yelled,” James said reassuringly, his hand almost taking up Sirius’ entire back. After a few moments the tears turned into violent sniffles, and as soon as Sirius had calmed down enough, James walked them over to the bed and pulled the boy on to his lap. Harry got the distinct sense that Sirius wouldn’t commonly stand for such treatment, but he curled into James’ chest without protest now. A few moments later Lily appeared at the door, regarding the scene with mingled fondness and sadness.

“They’re gone,” she said, catching everyone’s attention. Perhaps expecting to be yelled at, Sirius retreated further into James’ arms. Lily walked across the room and knelt down in front of him then reached up and brushed the bangs from his eyes. From the amount of time Harry could remember, he knew this was a rare, gentle moment between two people who spent a large percentage of their time fighting.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” said Lily. She took a small container of bruise salve out of her pocket and dabbed a healthy amount of it on his cheek. “We won’t be seeming them for a while,” she continued, as she ran a gentle thumb over Dudley’s handiwork. Sensing the sadness in his mother’s face, Sirius leaned forward out of James’ lap and hugged her. Lily smiled and hugged him back fiercely.

“I love you so much,” Lily said kissing him on the head.

“Even though I drive you crazy?” asked Sirius, the beginning of a smile tugging at his lips. James and Lily exchanged a look that Harry found oddly wistful, then Lily cleared her throat and turned back to Sirius.

“Especially because you drive me crazy. You and your namesake had that in common, you know,” said Lily gently, pushing back Sirius’ hair. “And we love you both so much.” Sirius allowed another tight hug, and James gave Lily another sad smile.

“Can we go see people we actually like now?” Grace asked, swinging her feet off of the bed in boredom. As they all laughed, Harry swore he saw the ghost girl standing in the doorway.

Grace had abandoned her stiff, blue party dress for a soft, tartan one and a white headband. Sirius’ bad attitude evaporated when Lily allowed him to change out of his collared shirt into a thick-knit sweater, and Amelia’s book had been restored to its rightful place in front of her nose. Harry was even able to ignore the building pain behind his eyeballs as he stepped into the fire and floo’d into the Weasley’s fireplace.

His knees buckled slightly as he landed hard in the Weasley’s fireplace. He looked around, confused. The pictures Ron had of the Burrow showed a well-worn, small living room. Harry was looking at a large living room that had been emptied of furniture and replaced with a few luxurious looking armchairs and a large banquet table covered with food. Many important-looking witches and wizards milled around, and Harry blinked in confusion.

“Harry!” cried Molly Weasley racing towards him with her hands outstretched. She had the same kind face she had when she told Harry how to get onto Platform 9 and 3/4, but her face was less lined, her hair was pulled back in a neat bun and she was less plump than Harry remembered. Before Harry had a chance to contemplate that, she swept him up into a big, warm hug.

“Arthur, the Potters are here!” she said, pulling award from him and brushing the bangs out of his eyes. “How’s your head, dear?”

“Better, thanks,” said Harry uncertainly. Behind Mrs. Weasley’s head, a chocolate fountain, nearly the size of a wardrobe, bubbled happily and flutes of champagne sailed through the air.

“Oh and how are my little ones? Come here!” Mrs. Weasley said enthusiastically, scooping up the remaining Potter children a large embrace. They all hugged her back, and Sirius didn’t even protest being called a little one.

“Hello Potters!” boomed Arthur, walking across the room. Harry had only seen pictures of Ron’s father, but barely recognized the man in front of him. He was wearing serious but well-cut navy robes and his hair wasn’t nearly as thin.

“Arthur,” Lily said stepping forward and hugging him like a grandfather, as Molly pinched James’ cheek.

“Lily-pet, I’m sorry to do this to you right now, but we’ve just gotten word from the Canadian delegation and -” Molly put her hands on her hips and glowered at Arthur, causing the man to stop mid-sentance.

“Arthur, this is a party. You can leave the Canadians until Monday,” said Molly in a tone that clearly indicated this was an ongoing problem. Arthur smiled a little hesitantly.

“Well you see dear, it was just frightfully hard to get them on board -” Molly rolled her eyes.

“Oh go on,” she said finally Arthur nodded and put a hand on Lily’s back to guide her through the crown to a private room. Molly rolled her eyes and then gave Harry another peck on the cheek. “Everyone’s in the living room. Lovely to see you dears.”

“Dad, what does Mr. Weasley do?” asked Harry after the woman had moved out of earshot.

“He works with your Mom,” said James, hanging up his cloak on an overloaded coat rack. “He heads up the Department of Muggle Relations at the International Wizarding Federation. He basically creates international standards for Magical-Muggle cooperation, integration and protection. Or at least that’s what your Mother tells me. Come on, love, Ron and Hermione should be upstairs.”   

Harry dodged the crowd and charged up the stairs.

“Honestly, Ronald, haven’t you read any of the material for next semester?” said Hermione, her voice floating from around the corner.

“No! It’s Christmas,” protested Ron indignantly. Harry felt his face split into a huge smile at the familiar sounds of their voices. They were standing nose-to-nose fully engaged in their bantering, just like they would have been in Harry’s memories.

“Hey guys,” said Harry. They turned to him and smiled broadly. Hermione was the same, slightly buck-toothed and frizzy-haired with warm brown eyes that glittered with joy at seeing him. Ron as well had his freckles and red hair, but there was something slightly different about him just as there was with the rest of the Weasleys, his clothes were newer,  and he stood a little taller. Still, he gave Harry the same beaming grin he always did and ran over to hug him.

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” he said. Harry hugged him a little tighter than he normally would have and did the same for Hermione.

“We have presents for you. Here,” Hermione said thrusting a few packages his way. Hesitantly, Harry accepted them.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t got you anything, yet,” admitted Harry sheepishly.

“That’s alright, Harry. We know you’ve had a rough few days.” Ron said kindly. Hermione nodded along beside him.

“Besides,” said Hermione smiling as he handed a box to Ron. “This is kind of like the start of a tradition. We have many more Christmases ahead of us.” With that, Harry, Ron and Hermione tore into their Christmas presents. Ron had gotten Hermione a pretty necklace that had a tiny star hanging off the end of it. This delighted Hermione, who put it on immediately and could not stop fiddling with it. Hermione had gotten Ron a large box of chocolates and Chuddley Cannons poster that Ron could not stop beaming at.

“Wow, Ron, these are great!” Harry said pulling out a pair of thin black gloves whose palms were covered in grips.

“This way you won’t drop the snitch,” explained Ron as he stuffed his face with one of his chocolates. “All the pro teams use them.” Gently, Harry placed the gloves back in the box and opened Hermione’s gift, Unique and Unusual Potions for the Unique and Unusual. He blinked at her for a moment, surprised, but not wanting to seem remotely ungrateful, he turned to Hermione with a broad smile.

“Thanks, Hermione,” he said. The slightly nervous looking dissipated from her face and she beamed back.

They stayed in Ron’s room talking about Hogwarts and Quidditch, both subjects Harry was thankfully able to contribute to, and Harry was almost able to forget the pain in his head until Hermione looked at him suddenly.

“Are you alright, Harry?” she asked suddenly, a little alarmed. Harry nodded but this didn’t mollify Hermione who scooted closer to him and touched his forehead with her icy hand.

“Harry, you’re burning up,” she said suddenly, cupping his cheek. It was rather hot in the room. He was just about to open his mouth to tell Hermione he felt fine when Hermione’s face warped and transformed into the skeletal, Asian girl in front of him. She smiled viciously and carded a hand through his hair. Harry yelped and try to scoot out of her grasp, but it was too tight, and he fell backwards into blackness.

Harry woke up to the feel of fingers running through his hair. The first thing he noticed was his father, sitting on the chair beside his bed watching him worriedly, his head resting on steepled fingers. The second thing he noticed was that the hand belonged to his mother, who was sitting on Ron’s bed beside him. He blinked repeatedly, trying to ease the building pain behind his eyes.

“Harry!” said his father, sitting forward in his chair. “How are you feeling, kiddo?”

“Alright,” whispered Harry, not knowing if it was true or not. His eyes felt heavy and drifted shut again.

“I’m going to take him home,” James said softly, apparently thinking Harry had fallen asleep again.

“I’ll come,” Lily replied, her hand stilling on Harry’s forehead. There was a knock at the door and Harry forced open his eyes to see Professor Dumbledore, his robes a resplendent red and green, standing at the door, peering in serenely. Another wave of familiar comfort overtook Harry, and he smiled at his Headmaster.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” James said, getting to his feet quickly.

“James, you have four children, a beautiful and successful wife, and we have fought a war together. I think it is time you start calling me Albus,” said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling as he took in his former student. James’ cheeks reddened slightly. Harry could feel Lily chuckle beside him.

“Yes, sir.” Dumbledore took a few steps into the room, fixing his eyes on Harry.“Forgive the intrusion, I heard that Harry had taken ill. I wanted to see if I could be of any service.”

“We were actually going to go home. He has a fever,” Lily explained hesitantly. “But if you wouldn’t mind…”

“Absolutely not, absolutely no trouble at all,” Dumbledore said magnanimously.  With the ease of a much younger man, he settled himself on the side of Harry’s bed and smiled down at him.

“Hello Harry,” he said gently. The lack of concern on Dumbledore’s face eased the fear brewing in Harry’s stomach.

“Hello, sir,” Harry whispered in response, a genuine smile forming on his face.

“Do you remember what a diagnostic spell is, Harry?” Feeling more than a little embarrassed that he didn’t, Harry turned his head slightly to look away from Dumbledore’s eyes to the wall and shook his head. His mother started to card her fingers through his hair again.

“It won’t hurt, you’ll just feel a little warm,” Dumbledore said kindly, reaching out and tapping Harry’s cheek gently with his wand before there was even a moment for resistance. Harry felt warm, and then oddly cold. Dumbledore smiled warmly at Lily.

“It seems Harry has a case of the flu, Unfortunate timing with his injuries, but ’tis the season,” said Dumbledore, getting a relieved laugh from Lily. “Tuck him into bed and he’ll be fine in a few days. If you want to say goodbye to Molly and get your other little ones, I can sit here with him.” Lily and James left with assurances they would be back quickly.

The flu? Harry knew this was not the flu. He kept seeing that face from his dreams everywhere. Maybe he was wrong in believing this was the right world. Harry looked up to find Dumbledore watching him with concern.

“I find the beginning is usually the best place to start,” said Dumbledore helpfully after a few moments. Dumbledore listened silently as Harry explained the whole story, and his confusion, the sage, pensive look never leaving his face.

“So you see, sir, I need a way to find out which reality is well, real,” finished Harry feeling suddenly young and awkward under the stare. He was ready to be laughed off, but when Dumbledore spoke, there was not a hint of amusement in his voice.

“That must be very troubling for you indeed, Harry,” said Dumbledore. “But I am afraid I can’t help you.” Harry felt his face fall and Dumbledore continued.

“It’s not that I do not want to ease your burden, I truly do, but this is something that you must know in yourself. If it is any consolation to you, Harry. Knowing your good heart and strong mind, I have no doubt you will end up where you belong.” He gave Harry a conciliatory pat on the hand. Harry closed is eyes against the splitting of his forehead, and drifted off to sleep.