The right path

Three

It took the two of them four hours at the least to finish up their story. It was...not perfect, but it would do. They weren't sure if there were any problems to it, but it avoided the most troublesome issues.

It ended up like this: Harry was the grandson of the long lost Potter brother, Hardwin, who ran away with his Russian girlfriend Ivanna Pyotr. They had an only son, Linfred, who married to Eva Volkov, a pureblood he met while auror training. Linfred was homeschooled, and Eva attended Drumstrang (she was an actual student, but died during the war with Grindelwald originally).

They made the decision to flee the continent because of the tense political atmosphere, but couldn't achieve it in the end because Grindelwald's followers had invaded Russian territories and the aurors were required to fight back. Still, as Eva was pregnant with Harry, she had the opportunity to leave by herself, illegally of course. Linfred gave her specific instructions to look for Charlus Potter and his wife Dorea in the British isles. They were the only ones that stayed in contact with their family, since Charlus was Hardwin's uncle and godfather (apparently this was also true, James had told Harry that when he was 15 he found certain family tree of the Black family, located Charlus Potter there, and investigated further. This piece of information added credibility to his story, so they did it like that).

However, when Eva arrived to the small cottage in which the Potter's resided, she found out that they had passed away some months prior because of Dragon Pox. She was really regretting fleeing by now, because she was illegally in another country, with no means of survival. She wrote a quick letter to Linfred, explaining the situation, and stayed in the abandoned cottage for a few days. Later on, she received a visit from her husband's childhood nanny, Ms. Fowley, who learned from Linfred himself what was happening.

Ms. Fowley took Eva in, and helped her with her pregnancy. Harry was due in two months, everything was going fine...until a week before the birth. Linfred was supposed to arrive during that week, but he never did.

The exact same day that Eva started feeling constant 3-minute separated contractions, they received a letter from the Russian ministry. Linfred had died in one of the small battles against Grindelwald's forces.

This only accelerated the process of Harry's birth, the 31 of July 1927.

Eva was emotionally and magically exhausted, due to the too strong emotions that she experienced that day. It was overwhelming to say the least. She had no way of surviving that day if she wanted Harry to live, so she used every ounce of magic she had left to ensure that Harry was born.

Ms. Fowley was the only person who could take care of the newborn, so she took him in.

Until this point Harry would say he knew that because of two sources. His mother's diary and Ms. Fowley's memories.

Harry's childhood was up to him, what he wanted to tell. After all, not even his current friends knew about him living in a cupboard under the stairs, so he doubts there will be a problem with that. He would tell the basics, and he figured he could include some actual facts, that weren't troublesome to admit, in order for it to be easy to remember. The best lies are always based on some proportion of the truth. Otherwise, it is easy to forget what you claim.

He lived in a small beach house in Yorkshire. At the age of eleven he went for the first time to London, a trip intended to get his wand and buy some other supplies. Before that he had never accompanied his nanny to Diagon Alley, and he never returned. He was homeschooled, Ms. Fowley insisted on it, not willing to cause mayhem by presenting an unknown Potter to Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, Ms. Fowley died on September 1, 1940, of a fulminant heart attack, while Harry Potter was sleeping in his room, the idea of going to Hogwarts never present in his mind...or at least that is what he would say.

Everything was was finally ready, 13 year old Harry Potter was going to be brought to that exact point in time. He would wake up and he would be free of his fame, expectations and lifetime manipulations. Free to create his own future...in the past.

Harry and James were still up and talking when the first rays of sunshine entered from the window. Harry was utterly exhausted, but at least he had eaten some of the things the Weasley's had sent him for his birthday. Everything was going to be okay, he only had to endure that day and when he went to sleep that night, his plan would be put into action.

Fortunately, the Dursleys were still asleep, so Harry could sleep for an hour or two still. However, before he could do that, he had to ask a new and last question for that time.

"Hey James, will my parents still exist if I mess with time? And if they don't, will I stop existing?"

"Ah, yes, forgot to tell you about that. You cannot affect anything leading to your birth, because you still need the genetic information of Lily and James to exist. All the important events to ensure your existence will remain as 'fixed points', meaning that there will be no possible way to change them. It will be a strange experience to watch your parents grow up, huh?"

"Yeah, it will be strange. And even more so to get to know their kids. Genetically speaking they would be like my brothers, right? That is a little bit disturbing."

"Well, yes, but at least you could still get to know your original parents, if everything goes okay."

And that was a thought that genuinely never crossed Harry's mind. It was exciting to think so. If everything goes okay...only time would tell.

"Are there any other fixed points?"

James was thorn between telling him an incomplete answer or deny him answers altogether. That was information he discussed and arranged with Death, but could not completely tell Harry now. And maybe never. In the end, he decided to tell him what he could.

"Yes...there are more fixed points. Some of them I asked for, in order for you to get to know what I considered my family. Others were imposed by Death, and I cannot tell anything about it. Now, go to sleep."

And so, Harry complied. He woke up nearly two hours afterwards to the sound of the door being pounded by uncle's Vernon big fists. Apparently, aunt Marge would arrive today.

It was bound to be a painfully long day. At least he didn't need to behave, as he would have if he had to survive the summer there.

So, Harry headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast and then helped aunt Petunia to clean the house. Of course that meant he did most of the work while Petunia scolded him.

It was not even lunch time when Vernon's car parked outside. The dreaded time had come, and it took everything in Harry to stay put and greet aunt Marge and his dog. Hopefully he could disappear to his room afterwards, and come out only to cook.

But fate was not a kind lady. At least not today. He had to attend to Marge's every whim for the rest of the day, frustrating him to the point he had to repeat the phrase "just a little bit longer and I'll be free" over and over again in order to survive it. If he snapped at Marge there would be hell to pay. And that was NOT convenient if he wanted to start fresh in the past. He was determined to arrive as healthy as he could, not beaten up.

Later rather than sooner the day was over, an Harry could finally escape to his room. He was oh so very excited. Soon he would fall asleep and everything would be better. A new life full of potential awaiting.

He let himself think of his current life, of the things he really enjoyed about it, and the things he never wanted to experience again. He let himself think about his friends. He would certainly miss their adventures, their constant playful banter, their laughs, and hell...he would miss them. They were so important to him that for just a second he considered staying, for the love of his friends. But at the same time, he knew he could create a better future for them to live in, and a future for himself, that otherwise he wouldn't have. No matter how much he loved his friends he still wanted a chance.

With that thought in mind he rested his head in the pillow, and let Morpheus claim him into the land of sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day.