Operation Homeward (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Seven (The Real One)

Okay, I'm really sorry it's been such a long time.

Really.

I want to first thank you all for sticking with this story, even though it's already been almost a year. Seriously, chapter dedication to you.

Also: I will be trying to update one HP fanfic a week. This week, obviously, will be Operation Homeward. Because I (technically) missed last week due to some time issues, I might update the next story on the list (A Foul Place Is Where I Love You) this week as well. If not, definitely the next. I post things on my profile about it, so if you ever are curious or have lost track, you can check there every once in a while.

In the meantime, if you've decided I'm an at least satisfactory fanfic writer (HP or otherwise), feel free to check out my profile. I've got 3 Harry Potter fics in the works, and one multi-fandom one-shot story that I will take requests on (and I already have some HP on there as well). For more information about those stories, the essential info is included in the introductions. Don't be afraid to comment or message me any questions. We're all friends here. :)

Okay, enough of my blabbing. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave a comment(s). I do very much enjoy them, so don't be shy. I like hearing peoples' takes and thoughts, and it helps me grow as an author. If you like a certain something, I'll be sure to add more of it, for example.

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"I don't understand," Teddy sighed frustratedly an hour later, leafing through the pages of The Tales of Beetle the Bard. "Harry should have had no attachment to these stories. He grew up as a Muggle! And yet here he was, a grown man, annotating a wizard children's book like it's the Bible."

Teddy didn't need to look up to know that James, Albus, and Lily were all watching him nervously. He knew he wasn't exactly the type to lose his temper easily, but the few occasions he did, the results were nuclear. Harry had always teased that it was "the werewolf in him."

Shoving away that particular thought, Teddy flipped back to the the page that Lily had initially used to find the Portkey - the tab labeled 1. Analyzed the underlined paragraph, the scrawl beside it.

I open at the close. Something about the phrase felt familiar. But what did it mean?

"'I open at the close,'" he repeated aloud, turning to Lily, who stared up at him with wide, green eyes. "That's what you said to trigger the Snitch to appear?"

"Yeah," she answered, fiddling with the snitch in the tissue she'd wrapped around it.

Teddy looked at the tabs above the pages. Desperate and hopeful, he flipped to the one labeled 2.

Once again, an underlined paragraph grabbed his attention, but this time, of The Wizard and the Hopping Pot.

Clang, clang, clang, went the cooking pot's single brass foot upon the floor, but now its clamor was mixed with the brays of donkey and human groans of hunger, echoing from the depths of the pot.

Beside it, Harry has scribbled another note:

Year 2; a favor for an old friend. Funny how the past comes back to haunt you, isn't it?