Coming Back To You

1981

Chapter 3: Fast-forward A Year, Please!

A/N: Sorry! I have this major writer block for weeks and I keep having a lot of plot bunnies of Harry's adventures in this universe it's getting really hard to keep track of everything. Really sorry for the slow update!

-----------Coming Back To You-----------

Babysitting, Remus decided, is the worst thing mankind has ever invented. Looking at the mess in the nursery, he took a deep breath to prevent himself from hexing Sirius for encouraging the boys. Lily is going to kill me, Remus thought. He looked at the hole in the wall. Correction, she's going to skin me alive, kill me, drag my soul back to my body from the afterlife, then kill me again. He couldn't prevent the sigh from his lips. Raising his wand, he murmured some spells to repair several photo frames caught in the cross fire. His brilliant mind began to plan some ideas for revenge. A smile tugged the corner of his lip. Maybe I can get Prongs to help. Looking pleased at the now repaired frames, he began casting reparo at everything he could save. Thank Merlin Lily had charmed the furniture unbreakable. He turned around and found 2 boys, asleep in the mattress made from thick quilts, pillows, and stuffed animals. A fond smile escaped his mouth. The boys are a year old now.

Harry James and Chris Charlus are quite the pair. Their physical characteristics are basically the opposite of each other. Harry have their father's raven hair, while Chris have theirs mother's auburn locks, although they both inherit the Potter's messy hair gene. Harry has his mother's warm green eyes, while Chris has James' mischievous hazel eyes. Their personalities are also the opposite, and if Remus didn't know better he might think they're not related at all.

Harry, besides inheriting his mother's eyes, also inherited her personality (well, most of it. He is James Potter's after all). He's quiet and very charming. His eyes shine with intelligence and that boy knows how to manipulate people. Remus chuckled, remembering an occurrence at the boys' birthday party, just a few days ago. Harry somehow managed to charm Minerva McGonagall into throwing a slice of birthday cake to Padfoot, in the face. His face, sweet Merlin his face! is so hilarious he know he have a new Patronus memory in disposal if needed. When Padfoot look around to search for the doer, just imagine his shock to find out his strict Transfiguration Professor high-fiving a smirking raven-haired one year old. Albus Dumbledore had to visit Madam Pomfrey, in complains of busted ribs.

Padfoot decided against retaliating.

Chris, on the other hand, is definitely a daddy's boy. He loves pranks and causing mischief, and uses every single thing in his "arsenal" (mostly from Padfoot) to prank, James and his twin mostly. He turned Lily's hair gold once, causes James to yodel for an hour (probably by spiking his pumpkin juice with a potion form Zonko's) and stick Harry's butt in the nursery ceiling. He don't know just how he did that. (I mean, he's a year old!) Harry and James didn't mind, but Lily confiscate everything related to pranks, whether it's unidentified potions or weird candies. But like a true Potter, it never discourages him.

How the time fly so fast, Remus pondered. A year has passed when James asked him to be Harry's godfather. He loved his godson to death; it's like having a son of your own. Sometimes, he cursed his own father for offending Fenrir Greyback. But the past is in the past, he could imagine his former Headmaster saying, and let it go. He picked the twins, and tucked them in their crib. Making sure they're both warm and comfortable, he picked up the toys on the floor and put it in their proper place. A chime signaled the floo usage and Lily's arrival. He paused. A look at the giant hole in the wall.

Shite.

-----------Coming Back To You-----------

A pair of piercing green eyes opened groggily. Harry took a few moments to collect himself. He looked at the ceiling, charmed to show the night sky, full of twinkling stars, just like the Great Hall. He still can't wrap his mind in the fact that he traveled to another plane of existence. Another universe. He might have believed more if he travelled to the past, because that actually can happen (cough-Third Year-cough) but another universe? Even his studies about it with the experts of Temporal Planes didn't cover this. He took a long breath and gathered what he has collected from this universe so far.

One, he have a twin brother. He have a sibling! One year and he still didn't believe it.

Two, this universe is not so different from Before, (as he taken to name it) because Voldemort exist Here and his parents is in the Order with Padfoot and Moony and Wormtail (The bastard is still choosing to betray his parents. One look and Harry knows he joined Voldemort, the rat reeked dark magic and he could sense the Dark Mark in his left hand). Albus Dumbledore is the Leader of the Light, still a bit eccentric and loony, not as manipulative as the Before version, but still believes in the Greater Good. His parents is exactly what Padfoot and Moony told him Before, and he hoped, deep in his heart, that there's no stupid prophecy and his family (his heart soared at that word) would survive. Third, there's a possibility, if the Tapestry is to be believed, that she exist Here. He knows she might be different Here, but he hoped at least, he could be her friend. He doesn't care if she doesn't want a romantic relationship with him (his eyes squished shut, okay maybe he cared, a lot), seeing her happy is balm to his torn soul. Her happiness is more important.

His thoughts are running 300 miles per hour, searching for anything he could do to help win this war. He's a year old, he can't help much, but at least he could do something. But it will look suspicious if a baby is found reading an obscure book in ancient magic. He closed his eyes, feigning sleep, while reconstructing his Occlumency shields, desperate to recall any useful information. He found several, yes, but those are currently beyond his capabilities. He hated feeling helpless, but all he could do now is wait, and maybe cheer up his parents and uncles. He knew from experience, that laughter when in distress (or in this case, War) is good. He smirked.

Now, where did Padfoot put those stink bombs...?

P.S This chapter is not edited. Sorry for any mistakes.

Peace out,

en2michelle