How to Prevent a War

Hello, Grandfather

A week later found Harry at the doorsteps of a mansion at the edge of Tinworth village. It was smaller than the one Sirius had bought for them and entirely different. Nothing like the Malfoy Manor either, from what he had been able to observe during the party. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to admire the building structure back then.

The building here was made of red brick and the roof was a soft sunburned colour. The dark wood windows were large and arched, as was the front door. The front yard was very modest, with a few trees and a small flower bed under the windows. It looked the most cosy place to live that Harry had ever set eyes on. More homey, even, than the Burrow.

As he reached the front door, he wasn't even given the opportunity to ring the bell before the door swung open, seeing the beaming face of an elf. It was wearing a perfectly white towel around itself with the Potter insignia sewn onto the chest and it looked up at him with large, adoring blue eyes.

"Mr. Harry Potter Sir!" the elf squeaked, sounding an awful lot like Dobby.
"Ducky was told to lead Mr. Harry Potter to the drawing room to the Master and Mistress, sir!"

Harry nodded and allowed the excitable little elf lead him through the hall towards the drawing room. There, he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the 6 people already there and his chest tightened painfully. In his own time, he had been the very last Potter still alive, yet here they were. Family. Actual family related to him by blood, something he didn't think he'd ever have. (the Dursleys didn't count, never had)

"Harry!" Charlus greeted, waving at him with a wide, cheerful grin.

He was sitting next to his wife while a man who looked a lot like him, but with no glasses sat across from him, smiling pleasantly at Harry. That had to be his grandfather, Harry realized with a painful pang. Fleamont Potter and the blond woman next to him had to be Euphemia, Harry's grandmother. Harry noticed with a bitter smile that he had inherited her nose and chin.

"Hey," he greeted them awkwardly.

An elderly woman, in her mid-sixties stood up from her seat and approached Harry. This had to be his great-grandmother, Arielle Potter née Lupin (wasn't that a shock when he heard it? He was related to Remus!) It was obvious both her sons had inherited their soft brown eyes from her, as her husband Henry had blue eyes.

"Welcome, my dear!" the woman gushed, hugging Harry tightly.
"I'm so very happy to finally meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too, aunt," he mumbled, hugging her back.

"Forgive my wife for her forwardness, Harry," Henry Potter chuckled at the sight of Harry's awkward expression.
"We all were at the Malfoy party and saw what happened. You have to understand that we were all very worried."

Harry's hard sunk in his stomach at that. They'd been there when Voldemort showed up.

"That... man. Is he the one that killed your parents?" Fleamont asked softly.

Harry nodded mutely as he tried to remember the story Alphard had told his family.

"Y-yea... He was a mercenary my dad and-and uncle Sirius were investigating," he said.
"He killed my mum and dad and tried to kill me too. He... Followed me here for some reason. I guess he doesn't like that someone actually survived an attack of his..."

"You poor dear..." Euphemia mumbled weakly.

"It's... It's alright I guess. I just... hoped that here I'd be safe from him you know?"

Everything fell silent for a moment where the Potters watched Harry with a mix of pity and sympathy. Eventually, Henry couched awkwardly and smiled at Harry.