Potters and The Next Generation; Furthermore Book 2

Once Upon A Time, At Hogwarts

Disclaimer: THIS IS A PIECE OF FAN-FICTION, DERIVED FROM THE ORIGINAL WORKS OF HARRY POTTER SERIES BY J.K. ROWLING.

James

It'd been days now. We spent nights in the room of requirements as the three of us couldn't get into the common rooms, at the risk of the portraits switching on us.

Due to this situation, we were stuck in a new whirlwind when Dad and Mum came to Hogwarts to do their little service of teaching. This was bad. We thought Dad would come for sure but Mum wasn't in the plan since her teaching plans were never definite.

I knew we'd be wavered and swayed by this reason. I wanted to compose myself and blame Lily or Albus for having weaker hearts but it turned out that I was the one who was played easily as I found myself in the seventh year's classroom as Dad walked in to teach Defense against the Dark Arts.

"Good morning." He inhaled a deep breath, looking around, "I'm Harry Potter and I will be your professor, well, just for this one class." He shrugged. His younger self had less dominance but he could still own a room. When I found his scanning eyes turn to me, I couldn't help but lower my face. My eyes were burning and I knew if they matched those eyes of his, I'd grow weaker. After what felt like a decade, I raised my head at his voice, "We'll be talking a bit about the disarming charm. I know, it sounds easy but I'd like to know where it came from. Who first performed it? Famous examples of its usage. The parchment is due next class, so get right on it. Some material is provided on page ninety-two of your books." He was a natural at this for some reason.

The rest of the class was smooth and all Dad did was teach. He wasn't one of those extra-talkative teachers so the class's focus was on the parchment and its studies. I was still impressed by his demeanor when a voice broke my stance I realized the blunder I'd made.

"Are you alright, Mr..." I snapped and stood by the corner of the room, scared to grow nearer to my Dad eyeing me with curiosity and less concern.

"Porter." I gulped, "Jackson Porter." Luckily, the three of us had decided a name for ourselves so in case someone approached, we'd have a cover. After introducing myself, I knew I had to leave but that expecting face and curious eyes, didn't let me, "And erm, I wanted to ask you something."

"Sure, anything." He almost smiled.

"It's personal."

"Sure." The way he was eyeing me, I knew his mind was drawing an analysis on me. I sighed a bit to regain the attention.

"You... survived the killing curse." I started and instantly, the man visibly stiffened, "Is it possible that someone else could as well?" Is it? Could they have survived? If Dad tells me now, I may be able to go back in time just to save Mum and Dad.

"I'm sorry, I don't know the answer to that question. My reason for survival was my mother. As most people know, she sacrificed herself for me and that made me a Horcux, which is..." He started explaining and I could only feel disappointment.

"I know. A part of a soul split away." Without thinking, I interrupted. Hearing more of this was just painful.

"Why do you ask?" He spoke after a deafening silence. I looked up and suddenly, felt comfortable. An image of my older dad came behind him and it was as if... inviting to speak out my turmoil.

"My mother. She came in between too. Just my father didn't survive." I spoke, unable to hold the tears in my eyes. His face... it turned to a pain suddenly and I felt instant regret for bringing him into this.

"Jackson, when did this happen to you? If you don't mind me asking." He seemed urgent.

"Erm, when I was eleven. It's been a while. Death eaters." I quickly made up the story on the spot and knew this had to end before things went awry, "Erm, thank you, Professor." And with this, I managed to jog away.