My Soul, Your Heart

When and How it Happened

Hello! long time no see bois (as usual), but I'm full of passion for this again.

Warning: first part is big sad, I made myself cry writing it. was an experience

in other news this story is now over a year old....yup ikr

I really hope you enjoy this chapter, things are about to get big lmao lots of planning and re-reading for me from now on

please enjoy

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Harry was dreaming again.

Only this time he knew where he was.

He'd had this dream before, too many times.

It felt like being in a pensive, watching a memory unfold. Helpless to prevent it from happening.

The watcher.

It started like it always did, lightly.

With an aching familiarity.

Harry watched himself, aged 47, covered in a glamour that made him appear his true age (the glamour he wore whenever he had to leave the privacy of his own home) grinning and joking alongside Ron.

The pair were dressed in matching Auror uniform, they'd just left Shacklebolt's office.

Some upstarts were claiming to be Death eaters, some may have actually served under Riddle. But knock off magical tattoos of the dark mark had become a painful part of wizarding pop culture for those wanting change. It had long lost it's true meaning, like most things seemed to when humans were allowed to control it's narrative.

There had been rumours of the distribution of rare (highly illegal) potions supplies spreading due to this particular group.

Death eaters or not they needed to be held accountable. Several buyers had already blown up their homes due to the strength of the ingredients. There was a reason some things had been made illegal.

The ministry took threats of death eaters seriously, demanding raids on any accused.

Harry had found it boring at the time, they were rarely ever actual death eaters. Just kids who had no idea what they claiming to be and wanting to explore dark magic or just rebel for the sake of it.

It had been 30 years since the war, Harry's name was fast becoming a legend.

A story you tell your children.

This raid hadn't been any different, not really.

Harry watched his younger self smile, a bitter feeling boiling in his stomach as he was dragged along to watch something he didn't want to ever see again.

The house was fuller than they had thought, the wizards and witches inside older than usual but still no genuine death eaters among them from what Harry could see.

He and Ron had chosen to chase a group of 4 upstairs, the others in their party clearing out the lower floors of the house.

Harry stunned one as she slashed a harsh cutting curse in his direction, her curse landing on his cheek the same time she fell to the floor.

"Mate, you could've dodged that." yelled Ron as he sent a large decorative vase in the direction of the wizard he was duelling. The wizard crumpled to the floor with a cold thud.

Harry calmly wiped the blood from his cheek, magic warming his thumb as it ran along the length of the cut, leaving healed skin in it's wake.

"Dodged what?" Harry asked with a smirk.