The Durmstrang Potter Twin

Returning

Tara's POV

Fifteen years passed slowly, watching as my brother and his wife slowly aged because of my separation from Sirius. The first ten were spent in depression on all our parts, Lily being the only ray of sunshine that seemed to shine down on the little house in the middle of nowhere. James wouldn't talk to me for the majority of those first ten years until I made a mistake on a mission and came home covered in my own blood. I had been tasked by Albus Dumbledore to continue the capture and killing of Death Eaters all over the continent. I had managed to keep that secret until that night. James grudgingly seemed to accept me afterwards. It took them a year after, perhaps, when I first found a picture of Harry in the paper and left it for them to find on the kitchen table, for me to be mostly forgiven. Even then, I kept my distance. They seemed to find that frustrating. I refused all help from them, refused to believe that they would actually forgive me from my horrible actions, despite their claims of blaming it all on Albus now.

And now it was time. James and Lily were thrilled when I told them they were to be reunited with their son that summer, instantly racing about the house, finding what they would need for the stay at Grimmauld Place, where Sirius would be, where everyone, all of our old friends would be. Where their children would be. Where Harry would be. 

Sirius knew, at least, that I had taken Lily and James into hiding. It was the reason he wasn't in Azkaban. Knowing his reckless, impulsive attitude, I had left him a note informing him of what I had done, telling him not to go after Peter and to stay safe at home. Harry was sent to his Aunt and Uncle. They were cruel: I had informed Lily and James of this after spying on the small suburban home from time to time to ensure Harry's safety. Lily had been furious. James had been enraged. It had taken a lot of time and energy to keep them from going to destroy the family right away. I made them promise to wait. That had been the first time my brother had spoken to me in four years.

I was silent as they ran around, collecting clothes and trinkets they had found at the beach we were secluded at. 

I had picked a place that I thought they might find most comforting. James and Lily loved taking walks along it and collecting funny shaped rocks and shells, exploring the tide pools to find starfishes and little octopuses that occasionally found themselves stuck in the crevices of the rocks. They liked it here. I was alone. I was still depressed. I still hated Dumbledore and myself for what I had been made to do. I took long swims in the freezing waters of the ocean, waters that reminded me of Durmstrang swims during the cold winters that invaded the castle. I missed Sirius. I missed feeling as though I may be truly in love. I missed being young, despite my body remaining the same age it had for years.

I stepped to the side as Lily strode past me, a Polaroid camera in hand. James looked up and grinned into the flash as she turned it around and snapped a picture of the two of them.

"To remind us what we'll look like when we're old again," she said to me as I looked at them.

I shook my head, "I'm not making any guarantees that you will become young again."

"Please, Tara," my brother said, stuffing a rather large bathrobe into an old trunk. "He loved you then, he'll love you now. I'm sure of it."

I hummed, still doubtful, "Perhaps. But you must keep in mind that you may indeed continue to grow older in case he tells me to leave."

"We'll keep it in mind," Lily said as she shook the picture, "but we have no doubt that Sirius will at least in the first few days forgive you and fall back in love. In fact, I doubt he ever fell out of love."

I nodded, allowing them to believe what they wanted to believe. They were happy, that was what mattered. That night, they stood by the door as I stared at the nearly empty house and held out my arm to them slowly, dreading the evening before us.