3 Betrayal

"Hmm? What?"

"What do you mean Peter betrayed me and got me killed? He would never do that! And why would he even need to betray me?" James said, once again blasting through the effects of the Calming Draught.

"Ah, you joined the Aurors and Dumbledore's little vigilante group after graduating."

Dumbledore's what?

"Your other Marauders joined with you. Peter was, I don't know exactly when it was, a spy for Voldemort. He could have started some time during Hogwarts or maybe it was after. I don't know. Before I killed him-"

James flinched.

"He just said that he did it because he never belonged in your little group. Sirius always bullied him, Remus never stopped him, and you egged Sirius on. Meanwhile there was a big bad evil guy that no one bullied, that promised power and prestige. He took it, always resentful of his lack of talent, attractiveness and fame of the rest of your group. He got you killed, framed it on Sirius, who then spent twelve years in Azkaban, faked his own death and Remus lost everyone who ever cared about him. A wolf with no pack and no home."

"Why?!" James growled out. "Why would he need to betray me though?"

"Hmm. I'm not going to say."

James stood, throwing the glass of butterbeer to the ground.

"YOU KIDNAP ME, TELL ME THAT EVERYONE DIES, THAT MY BEST FRIEND BETRAYS ME BUT YOU WON'T TELL ME WHY?"

"Yes."

James stormed off, leaving the warm circle of the campground to the cold wind of the- what- Antartica?

Tears flowed down his face again. Freezing against his skin.

What was happening? One moment he was home for the summer, ready to get back and become an Animagus with two others to help his other friend. A friend group that had been together since the beginning, the Marauders.

He had gone home. To his loving parents, about to see his hero of an uncle and his honestly frightening aunt. He… he was a child! A KID! Barely fifteen.

Why the hell had someone from the future kidnapped him of all people? Telling him he was going to train him. What could he do against Voldemort? Against the Death Eaters? He didn't want to do that.

He wanted to play pranks, win Quidditch, get a kiss from cute girls, a flash of green eyes came to his mind. Fuck, what happened to Lily? The old man never even mentioned that. Did she die so early on that she was never even mentioned? Or Marlene? Mary? Alice? Frank? Dorcas?

Were they just not mentioned because they weren't the Marauders? He hoped so, no he hoped it was all a lie and this crazy old man was just that, a crazy old man.

The idea that Peter would betray them was mind boggling. Peter was sweet, he learned of Sirius' birthday the first year, when he had never mentioned it, and had gotten a cake from the kitchens. He was the first to start taking notes for Remus when he had disappeared every month, before they even knew he was a werewolf. And when they did find out, it wasn't Sirius who instantly accepted Remus. He had heard nothing but how werewolves were monsters, lesser beings. To his own shame it wasn't James either. James had been shocked, filled with fear. Fear of becoming a monthly monster, of killing his friends, of hurting his family. Of sleeping next to that.

But Peter had grabbed Remus's hand as he had been moments away from running away, and told him that it didn't matter, because Remus was their friend, their family in all but blood.

The shock in Remus's face when someone dared to touch him even after learning about his affliction had quickly melted, and the boy had a meltdown right in the dormroom, Peter hugging him and patting his back. Saying nothing but kind things.

James wanted to go home. He wanted to hug his mom and dad. To grab onto Peter and get on his knees apologizing for every mean word, apologize for letting Sirius get away with saying snarky things.

Looking up James realized he was in the middle of nowhere. Cold was freezing him to the bone, snow matting his hair and his tears and snot frozen on his face. He turned retracing his footsteps, until he realized they had disappeared, the snow covering his tracks.

Shit fuck cunt.

James ran, hopefully in the right direction. The deepening snow making it a real effort to move.

"HELLO!"

It was so cold, James took out his wand.

"Incendio!"

A jet of fire shot out the tip of his wand, and while it didn't immediately warm everything it did provide some relief. He kept hold of the spell, walking in what he still hoped was the right direction, the jet of fire melting the snow as he truged.

Which then caused it to seep into his clothing, weighing him down and making everything numb.

He didn't know how long he walked, but it must have been a long time, because he felt his magical power sputter out. His mind slowed, the spell fading. Cold, burning cold everywhere.

—

James awoke, gasping while he sat up, and oh-so warm. The warmth calmed him and he laid back down, snuggling into his thick blanket. His pillow felt a bit flat so he reached out on his bed for one of his other ones. Instead he felt nothing.

Annoyed James sat up again looking around his room.

He wasn't in his room. The bed was small, smaller than the ones in the dormitory at Hogwarts. The walls weren't really walls, they were the fabric of a tent.

Fear took James and he scrambled to find his wand.

"Here," the old man said walking through the flap and tossing James's wand back to him.

James caught it, staring at the old man.

At first it was his outfit that took his attention. He wore a very flowery apron. With the words, World's Best Mass Murderer on it in a loopy script. He had thick slippers on that looked to be for children in the shape of blue monsters with open maws.

Then it was his features that took James's attention. He was a bit taller, skin darker, eyes now brown and hair curlier. The only remnant of the old man from before was the scar on his head.

"What- What happened to you."

"I'm cooking."

"No- wait huh- nonono nevermind. You look different."

"Oh yeah, I'm changing my appearance every day."

"Why?"

"So you don't try and guess who I'm related to."

"... Why didn't you just say you were a muggleborn?"

The old man opened his mouth, then closed it scratching the back of his head.

"Hmm, didn't think of that."

They ate in silence. The food was actually very good. Once they finished instead of using cleaning charms the old man instead stood, washing the dishes by hand.

"How come you don't use spells?" James found himself asking.

"... I used to hate cooking," the old man said. "But when I got married and started a family it became one of my favorite things in the world to do. I didn't want to use spells to cook, or clean, because I wanted to make something myself for the people I loved. Now I just use it as a hollow reminder of them."

James remembered the image of a silver blonde woman with two children, the children's faces obscured. Then an explosion. Then he thought of the old woman with matching rings. Then a grave.

"Dead?"

"Everyone is."

The man finished cleaning, then sat down opposite James again. Instead of looking at his face, because the man had changed it, he looked at his demeanor.

He looked, weary, worn down, fractured, but still unbroken, still strong. His dull brown eyes stared with absolute clarity at James. This man wasn't mad, or crazy.

"Whats your name?" James asked.

"Harry."

No last name. The man didn't want to be recognized. James thought he could be a Metamorphagus, so maybe he was Sirius' son or something and that's why. It would be like his friend to not go with Black family tradition and name his son after a star.

"Why me Harry?"

There was a brief flash of emotion in the man's eyes before they dulled again.

"If I could I would have gone all the way back to when Voldemort was born and strangled him with my own hands," Harry said bluntly.

"But I could only go back so far. I had planned to go back as far as possible, to when you first started Hogwarts and implant the instructions in your mind before dying as I said earlier. But my calculations were off. Thankfully it stopped me earlier rather than sending me further back and dying instantly. In exchange I have a couple of months more to live. So I will teach you how to win this war."

"But why me?"

"You are a natural born leader. Magically gifted, social, kind, understanding. You have the ability to lead your entire generation. You're also a pureblood, so you have backing and shields that others don't."

"Sirius is all those things too."

"No he's not. Sirius, despite being just as talented as you, is no leader. He can't lead a hundred people, maybe if he really wanted he could lead his family."

"His family is full of monsters," James said, his nose scrunched.

"No, only half of his family is. Andromeda, Narcissia, Regulus they aren't."

"Andromeda ran away."

"That doesn't mean she isn't his family.

"Narcissa practically preaches Pureblood bigotry."

"A mistake she and her husband regretted in the future."

"Regulus-"

"Is a fourteen year old boy with the weight of his entire family on his shoulders, weight that his older brother, who he loves in his own quiet way, pushed on him."

"So you're saying its Sirius's fault!"

"No, I'm saying its a bad situation. Regardless, Sirius isn't a leader, he can't be kind like you can. He can't care about others like you can. From the first day you two met he latched onto you, anyone else, even Remus and Peter to a degree, are expendable. You are his anchor, the only person he cares more about than himself."

James grimaced, knowing Harry was right.

"What about Dumbledore? Or like, my dad? He's on Wizengamont, one of the leaders of the Light."

"Frankly I don't know shit about your dad. And Dumbledore is a great wizard, but he's broken in so many ways."

James blinked.

"What?"

Harry sighed, wandlessly, damn that was impressive, levitating two cups of butterbeer over to them.

"Don't worry, there's no Calming Draught this time. Anyways, Dumbledore is a very broken man. When he was younger, you kind of younger, he didn't care for his family, who was rather poor, and had a magically repressed sister. He was a once in a century genius. He wanted to do great things, change the world. No one was his equal in skill or wit. Until he met someone who was."

James knew immediately who Harry meant.

"Grindelwald."

"Mhm. But they weren't always enemies. They became fast friends, then lovers-"

James spit out his butterbeer, drenching Harry, who looked at him nonplussed. Harry waved his hand and cleaned himself.

"Lovers?!"

"Yes, believe it or not boys can love boys."

"I-"

"Forget it. For the first time in his life Dumbledore felt as though he didn't need to be in total control, to make sure everything was perfect himself. Grindelwald was trustworthy, a friend, a lover," Harry squinted his eyes at James, making sure he didn't make a repeat of the last time. "They could change the world together. So they planned and schemed, and honestly Dumbledore was all on board to do some pretty terrible stuff for the Greater Good. Then his brother Aberforth-"

"The Hogs Head barkeep?!"

"Yes quiet. Aberforth got into an argument with Grindelwald, which quickly turned into a duel. Dumbledore, despite not caring for his family, didn't want to see his brother hurt. So the fight quickly became a three way duel, that ended in the death of Dumbeldores sister. They never found out who killed her, but it broke something in Dumbledore. He decided that he was the only person he could trust to do anything, but at the same time he didn't trust himself to always make the right decision. So he kept secrets, manipulated lightly from the background. Always deluding himself into giving others a choice in their paths. When he defeated Grindelwald he gained more political power than he knew what to do with. Deciding that if he couldn't trust anyone, not even himself, then it meant there was too much power to be had in the world. Purebloods may have pushed for the slowly declining standards of Hogwarts, but Dumbledore was its silent patron. Binns should have been excorsized decades ago. Care of Magical Creatures no longer has field trips out of the castle to reserves. Classes like Spell Creation and Alchemy were dropped from curriculum. Then there is what he did with Voldemort."

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10 more Chapters up on my P@ treon

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