Echoes of tomorrow.

Chapter three: Disbelief and truth

The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the crackle of the fire in the hearth and the soft shifting of chairs. Harry could feel the weight of their stares, their disbelief and confusion palpable. He had expected this—nothing about his story made sense to them. Why would it? They hadn’t seen the horrors he had lived through. They hadn’t lost their friends, their family… not yet.

Sirius leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You come in here, looking like Harry, claiming to be from the future, and expect us to just believe you?”

Harry met his godfather’s gaze. He had forgotten how sharp Sirius could be, how quick to distrust, especially after Azkaban. But there was more to it—Sirius had a natural protectiveness over Harry, and seeing a version of him that wasn’t the boy he knew was undoubtedly throwing him off.

“I don’t expect you to believe me right away,” Harry said calmly. “I know it sounds mad. But I’m not lying. I’m here because something went wrong… something big, and I have to stop it.”

“And what exactly are you trying to stop?” Remus asked, his voice steady but cautious.

Harry took a deep breath. He had to be careful with how much he said. There were things they couldn’t know—not yet. The timeline was fragile, and he couldn’t risk unraveling it completely.

“Voldemort,” Harry said softly, the name hanging in the air like a curse. “He comes back. Fully. You-Know-Who’s return… it’s imminent. And when he does, it will start a war—one we won’t win without losing a lot of people.”

The room shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the Dark Lord’s name, but Harry didn’t let up. He needed them to understand the urgency of the situation.

“If we don’t do something now, everything will fall apart,” Harry continued. “Sirius, Remus, you both… you both will—” His voice caught, and he swallowed, unable to finish the thought.

The faces of those he had lost flashed before his eyes: Remus, Tonks, Fred, Sirius. He couldn’t let that happen again.

“Wait, wait,” Sirius interrupted, his tone incredulous. “You’re saying that we’re going to lose? That Voldemort is going to win?”

Harry shook his head quickly. “No. We win. Eventually. But the cost… the cost is too high. Too many people die. I’m here to stop that from happening.”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?” Kingsley spoke up for the first time, his deep voice resonating through the room. His expression was calm but stern, clearly taking the conversation seriously.

Harry glanced around the room, taking in the familiar faces. They were all looking at him, waiting for answers. He knew he couldn’t give them everything—they wouldn’t believe it, not yet—but he needed to give them enough to trust him.

“I’ve been preparing for this for years,” Harry said, his voice gaining strength. “I know things about the future, about Voldemort’s plans, that will give us an advantage. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”

“And why should we believe you?” Moody growled, his magical eye never leaving Harry. “You could be a bloody Death Eater in disguise for all we know.”

Harry sighed, expected the skepticism. Moody, of all people, would be the hardest to convince, with his constant vigilance and paranoia.

“I understand your hesitation,” Harry said. “But I can prove it. There are things happening now, things that are about to happen, that I already know. You can verify them. If I’m wrong, you can lock me up, send me to Azkaban, whatever you need to do. But if I’m right…”

Tonks leaned forward, her pink hair glowing faintly in the dim light. “What kind of things? Give us something. Anything.”

Harry’s mind raced. There were a lot of events he could tell them, but he had to choose carefully—something verifiable but not catastrophic.

“The Department of Mysteries,” Harry said finally. “Voldemort’s after a prophecy. One about me and him. He’ll send Death Eaters there soon, hoping to lure me in. He wants to know the full prophecy, but only I can retrieve it.”

Remus’s eyes widened slightly. “A prophecy? About you and Voldemort?”

Harry nodded. “Yes. It’s what started everything. He tried to kill me as a baby because of it.”

“And you think he’s going to make a move on the Ministry?” Kingsley asked, his expression thoughtful.

“Not just think,” Harry said firmly. “I know. It happens in a few months. If we’re ready, we can stop it before it turns into a disaster.”

Sirius was watching him carefully now, his suspicion still there but tempered with curiosity. “You’re asking a lot of us, Harry. This is a big risk.”

Harry looked directly at Sirius, his voice softening. “I know. But this is a risk worth taking. I can’t lose you again.”

Sirius’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and for a moment, Harry thought he saw a hint of understanding there. He hoped so. He had missed Sirius so much, and seeing him alive again—whole and unbroken—was more painful than he had anticipated.

“Let’s say we believe you,” Remus said slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “What’s your plan?”

Harry let out a breath of relief. He wasn’t sure they fully believed him yet, but at least they were willing to listen.

“I need to gather as much information as I can,” Harry explained. “We have to be ready for Voldemort’s return. We need to be smarter this time, more prepared. We can’t just wait for him to come to us.”

Moody grunted in agreement, though he still looked skeptical. “Constant vigilance,” he muttered, his magical eye swiveling as if scanning for unseen threats.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed. “We need to strengthen the Order, recruit more people, and keep our eyes open for any sign of Death Eater activity.”

Tonks was watching him closely, her expression somewhere between intrigue and concern. “You really believe we can stop all of this from happening?”

Harry met her gaze. “I have to. I came back to change things. And with your help, we can.”

There was a long silence as the members of the Order exchanged looks, each one processing what Harry had told them. He could feel the weight of their doubts, but he also saw the flicker of hope in their eyes. They wanted to believe him—he could see it.

Finally, Sirius stood up, his expression still cautious but with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Well, if this is some elaborate ruse, it’s the best one I’ve ever seen. But… I trust you, Harry. I always have.”

Harry felt a surge of emotion. He had forgotten how much those words meant to him—how much Sirius’s trust had always mattered. He swallowed hard and nodded, grateful beyond words.

Remus was next to rise, his face unreadable but his eyes steady. “If what you’re saying is true, then we can’t afford to wait. We’ll need to move quickly.”

Kingsley and Tonks exchanged glances before nodding in agreement, while Moody grumbled something under his breath but didn’t object.

Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. They were with him, at least for now. It wasn’t total trust, but it was a start.

“All right then,” Sirius said, clapping his hands together. “What’s the first step, Harry?”

Harry looked around the room at the faces of those who had died in the war, feeling the weight of their fates hanging in the balance. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but he knew where to start.

“The first step,” Harry said slowly, “is making sure we’re all prepared. Because Voldemort’s coming back sooner than any of us expect.”