X. FACES FROM THE PAST
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Oleander stood in the middle of a dimly lit street, the yellow-flickering light casting his silhouette behind him as he trudged against the London winds. His red curls were blown in his face as he desperately tried to make himself look presentable.
Reaching into the pocket of his wool-lined denim jacket, he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. It read: Alberic Grunnion street 7, Warlington, London. He had no idea this neighbourhood even existed in London, which might have been partly due to the fact that it was a wizarding street in a wizarding borough in the wizarding part of London and Oleander was a muggle.
He had no idea how this note had showed up in his pocket, but it suspiciously showed up right after he had met with his wife's twin brother. Underneath the address stood: 'don't fuck it up or I'll kick your arse,' which pretty much confirmed his suspicions.
Warlington was a small borough, quaint and idyllic, especially for London. There were no high sky scrapers or busy shop fronts, nor were there crowding pubs or bums sleeping at the side of the road. It didn't even smell like London. If he hadn't flooed to London and then taken the underground, he'd have thought he was still at home, back in Pittenweem.
The houses were pressed closely together, with colourful bricks and vivid window frames that were even visible in the dark under only the transparent moonlight. There was luscious greenery all around him; trees bent over each other, moss crawled its way through every crack in the brick road and ivy vines had managed to cling to the sides of the crammed houses.
Oleander made his way down the quiet road, the only sounds coming from his worn boots and the hoots of owls that were no doubt watching him with sharp eyes from their perches high in the trees that lined the road. He strolled past homes, each as different and as wonderful as the last; 17... 15... 13... 11... 9... He stopped as he reached Alberic Grunnion street 7.
The house didn't seem like anything special, but Oleander reckoned that that was done on purpose. He had only been back in the wizarding world for a little while, but in every magical newspaper he saw there would be a new headline reporting on a sighting of the famous Potters. At moments like that he was glad Astoria and him had fled this world.
The house was three stories tall and leaned crooked against the one next to it. He could see the warm lights from inside behind the closed curtains and the chimney was billowing out little puffs of smoke. The garden in front of the house gave space to a variety of plants that Oleander instantly recognized. His breath hitched in his throat as he began walking up the overgrown path that ran through the small garden. His mother had a garden like this, it was where she had gotten their names from; Petunia, Lily and Oleander.
Deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice the front door open.
"Hello," a smooth voice said, putting a careful hand on his shoulder.
Oleander shook his head and glanced at James Potter, who looked at him through his hazel eyes with a worried frown.
"You okay there, mate?"
"Uh... yeah," Oleander replied and put a smile on his face. Suddenly his entire body felt tingly as nerves raced through every limb. Why am I here? he thought. This is a horrible, terrible idea. He wished the earth beneath him would open up and swallow him whole. "I- I should leave. Sorry," he muttered and turned to leave.
James didn't let him. "Come on," he said, "You're telling me you came all this way just to admire the neighbourhood?"
"Well, I have been searching for a new place, heard the rates were terrific around these parts," he found himself joking easily.
"You've come to the right place, Ollie." James grinned before turning serious. "Look, I was just heading out, but Lily is inside. She hasn't said much since... you know, the incident," he said, thinking back to Lily's outburst at Hogsmeade. "But it's clear it's bothering her. Talk to her and don't fuck it up, or I'll kick your arse."
Oleander's eyes widened. "You?" he said, his face flustered.
James winked at him and clapped a strong hand on his shoulder. "I've gotta go, but chin up, mate. It'll be fine. She's in a good mood. I think," he said, a frown growing on his face, "it's always hard to tell with that woman." He pushed past Oleander and, with a loud crack, he disapparated.
Oleander let out a deep sigh as he recovered from his encounter with James Potter. He found it so peculiar how James didn't even know him, they had barely even talked, but still the man treated him like an old friend. Something about his presence was comforting, no wonder this man was able to put a ring on his sister.
Speaking of, the wind picked up again and the open door of the crooked house creaked loudly, slowly falling closed. In a spur of the moment decision, Oleander stepped a single foot inside, stopping the door from closing itself.
"Guess we're doing this..." he mumbled and ran an anxious hand through his hair.
"James," Lily called from inside, "I thought you were leaving? Did you forget your keys ag—" she trailed off as she stepped inside the hallway and spotted an embarrassed Oleander standing halfway through the door.
"James let me in," he said immediately. "I swear I'm not committing a felony!"
Lily didn't say anything for a while, her breathing steady and harsh. Pursing her lips, she turned and walked back into the living room. "Close the door behind you, will you? It's bloody freezing!"
Oleander banged his head against the door as he let out a breath of relief. He closed the door and was about to walk further inside, when Lily called out again.
"Shoes off, Oleander! Honestly, I thought you would've learned by now..."
Kicking his shoes off, he trotted into the room, seeing Lily pouring tea in the kitchen.
At the sound of him entering, she looked up and asked, "Tea?"
He smiled timidly. "Please. You're right, it is freezing," he said, rubbing his hands together.
Lily rolled her eyes as she joined him in the living room, the two sitting at opposite sides of the table. A song played softly in the background. Oleander recognized it distantly; faces cracked for reason beyond recognition, the radio played, his space is at the Palace...
"That's what you get when you don't wear gloves, or a scarf, or a hat, or a proper jacket," Lily listed off, putting the mug filled with steaming tea in front of Oleander.
He nodded absent-mindedly. This was the first time he had seen his sister this close, something he didn't think he'd ever be able to do again. When he looked at her, he found himself noticing only the differences between Lily and Ivy, and not the similarities.
Lily's hair had darkened over the years and she'd gotten wrinkles in all the same places Oleander had them. Her eyes were as green as ever, something she had passed down to her son, which was a bit he had spotted the moment he had run into them at the village. What surprised him the most was how similar Lily and him still were in countenance, even after all these years apart. Though he reckoned genetics didn't really care about broken relationships and all that.
"Why are you here, Oleander?" Lily asked after a while of easy silence. She was staring mournfully into her mug, her finger playing with the edges, waiting for it to cool down enough to drink. She didn't make an effort to look up.
"I—" he hesitated, "I'm not sure. When I saw you at Hogsmeade... I haven't been able to shake this feeling," he admitted.
"What? The feeling of being a prick?"
"Yes," he answered honestly, his eyes not leaving Lily's, just in case she decided she was able to look at him without strangling him. "I am a prick and I deserve every nasty thing you want to throw at me. But I am so sor—" his voice cracked, "sorry, Lily. I realise I am too late with all this, the apologies, but I'll never stop trying. I'm sorry." He felt a tear trickling down his cheek. He didn't care to wipe it away.
"I understood, you know," Lily began, "At first. Why you left. You fell in love and it wasn't like my world was anything like yours," she said quietly. "Sure, it hurt that you blocked me out but I understood. But you didn't—" she cleared her throat, "You didn't come to their funeral, Oleander." Finally, she looked up and identical eyes met. "Even Petunia and her husband came. But not you."
"Lily," Oleander tried.
She cut him off, her voice rising, "Our parents, Oleander! Mum and dad died and I needed you and you weren't there!" She wasn't yelling, not yet, but the words cut Oleander like a knife either way. Lily took a deep breath and took a sip of her tea, calming herself down. She was crying now, too.
"I wasn't..." he started, his voice thick with grief. "My wife died," he simply stated, averting his eyes to the table. He heard Lily sigh faintly. "Ivy was nine at the time. We knew it was coming, but still... I grew distant from her. And then I got the news about..." he couldn't finish his sentence.
"About mum and dad," Lily continued, revelation on her face. "Oh god, Oleander. I had no idea..."
"Yeah, well, that's not exactly your fault, now is it?" he said with a dry chuckle. "When I was finally able to pull myself together enough to take care of Ivy, the funeral had passed and I was too late. I guess I didn't think to bother after that. I'll never stop being sorry for that, Lils. I'm sorry for not being there for your wedding, or your son or... the attack."
Lily shook her head, the anger that had previously possessed her quickly leaving her. "That's magic business, Ollie. My responsibilities, not yours."
Oleander shrugged, swiftly drying his tears. "I reckon it is my responsibility, now."
"Ivy," she said, a delicate smile on her face. "I've got a niece..." she whispered, excitement nearing her voice. "Who's identical to me. Which we will speak with Dumbledore about, the old man always knows more than he's letting on..." she mumbled under her breath.
"You're telling me," Oleander said. "I've got nephew who destroyed a dark lord."
Lily chuckled. "Merlin, please don't start asking for autographs," she joked.
"I would never."
"What about Ivy? How old is she? And why didn't you sent her to Hogwarts, you prick?" she wondered and all the hostility had left her voice.
The two almost felt like they could actually be okay after all these years.
"Seventeen—Jesus. Yeah, her birthday was yesterday," he responded.
"They grow up fast."
"And still we wish they didn't," he said.
Oleander began telling Lily about Ivy, about her accomplishments and her shenanigans and just how proud he was of her. How quickly she had adjusted to France, about her best friend Henri—whom Oleander still didn't trust, the flirt that the boy was, and Ivy's unfortunate end at the Academy.
Lily, in turn, recalled her life after Oleander had left. About Harry and James, all of their closest friends; Sirius, Remus, the Meadowes' and the Weasleys, but also about the not-so-happy parts.
That was when Oleander remembered that tonight was the anniversary of the Death-Eater attack on Godric's Hollow and also how the anniversary of his wife's passing was the next day, something he had been trying to push out of his mind the entire day.
At some point, they had taken to standing and walking around, chatting happily about their lives. Lily walked up to him and reached up, picking at Oleander's dark beard. "Have you trimmed this lately?" she asked.
Oleander slapped her hand away. "If you hate it, you could just say so."
"I don't hate it!" she said quickly, holding up her arms in surrender. "It looks good, great even. Very rugged." A teasing smile spread across her face.
"Oh, piss off," he grumbled.
"Don't be grumpy, Ollie. C'mere," she said and swiftly pulled him into a tight hug.
Oleander embraced back just as tightly, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as he closed his eyes and let himself finally revel in the fact that he had his sister back, that it hadn't been too late to rectify his mistakes.
"I missed you..." Lily murmured into his shoulder.
Oleander rested his cheek on her hair and said quietly, "I missed you too."
They were interrupted when a mysterious ticking came from the closed window. They broke apart and turned to the window where a grey owl was tapping against the glass, two letters attached to its claw.
"Who's sending owls this late?" Lily wondered as she approached the window.
She opened the window, shuddering at the cold air flowing inside and swiftly detached the letters from the owl before sending it on its way again. She looked down at one of the letters with a confused stare. "This one's addressed to you?" she said and handed it to Oleander.
"What? Who would even think to send..." he said and trailed off. "James knows I'm here," he realised.
The two ripped open their letters, worry creased between their brows.
They looked up at each other with identical looks on their faces after they read its contents.
"We need to get to Hogwarts!" they exclaimed at the same time, because the letters send by James had informed them of the same thing: both of their kids had been chosen as a Champion in the Triwizard Tournament.
In a matter of seconds Lily had dragged Oleander to the large fireplace and shoved him, alongside herself, inside. Grabbing a handful of ashy powder, she spoke the destination clearly and the two were engulfed in green flames. They were thrown out again with puffs of smoke and soot staining their clothes.
Oleander stumbled forward, just barely grabbing onto the wall to prevent himself from falling face first to the ground. "You suck at floo traveling..." he grumbled.
"Yeah, well, you suck at being a brother," Lily grumbled in return.
"Touché."
"Perfect, you two made it!" James spoke up as helped Lily regain her footing.
Oleander stood up straight with the help of Sirius and took note of the room they were in. It was simple, merely a backroom that had been fitted as an office. The people that filled it were the noteworthy part.
He could see Dumbledore, Lily had described the man enough times that he would be able to draw him from memory if he wanted to. Madame Maxime was easily recognizable beside him.
There were two men beside the Headmaster and Mistress; one looked loud and ludicrous while the other looked like some sort of Ministry official.
For a split-second, he caught Professor McGonagall's eye, he had last seen her when he was eleven and she had come to their house to deliver Lily's letter. He remembered asking her if he could come too.
Beside the Professor stood one of the most rugged and imposing man Oleander had ever come across; he was tall and strong and had a strange assortment of garments, yet what was most peculiar was his eye; it had been replaced with a fake one that was zooming in its socket, scanning the room shiftily.
Beside him stood a man all clad in black robes, he had an almost sickly-pale face, a long, hooked nose and greasy black hair reaching to his shoulders. Familiarity tickled Oleander's brain, yet he could not pinpoint where he would have met the wizard before.
Oleander noted four kids off to the side of the room. One of them was accompanied by a rather wicked looking man, but the other three sat on the ground. Wait, he realized, that's my kid!
"Ivy!" he called out to her and she looked up, immediately standing up and engulfing him in a hug.
She looked at her dad with excitement emanating from her face. "Can you believe it? Me a champion?" Then, she caught note of who Oleander had flooed into the room with. She shot him a questioning glance.
"Later," he said and the two joined James, Lily, Sirius and Dumbledore.
Harry, who had been sitting beside Ivy and Henri, stood up with an exhausted sigh and followed after them.
"James, what has happened?" Lily asked.
"No bloody clue! The Goblet was choosing champions. Viktor, Henri and Ivy but then it spit out Harry's as well and now these two," he motioned angrily at Bagman and Crouch, "are saying he has got to compete."
Crouch approached them. "As I said before, Mr. Potter, the Goblet is a binding contract."
"Just look at him!" James shouted quietly, motioning to Harry. "He's a baby!"
"I'm fourteen, dad," Harry complained.
"A baby!" James insisted.
"Look," Lily began, resting a calming hand on James' shoulder, "maybe we're focusing on the wrong thing. If there was an Age-Line around the Goblet, how was Harry's name in it in the first place?"
"Someone must've put it in," Sirius figured. "Was it a harmless prank," he added, "or did someone want Harry in the tournament to off him?"
"Thanks, Sirius," Harry scoffed.
"No problem."
Dumbledore stepped forward and the group fell quiet. "I can ensure you, James, Lily, that we will investigate this in depth. Moody?" he beckoned the scarred man. "What do you think?"
"Hmmm," Moody scratched his chin, "Could be a Death-Eater that's somehow infiltrated the castle. Disguised as a student, perhaps."
"I thought Hogwarts was a fortress?" Oleander decided to speak up, shrinking back at everybody's gaze suddenly on him. "With wards and spells... and stuff..." he trailed off. "Maybe Sirius is right and it's just a simple prank?"
"There are ways around every ward and loopholes for every spell," said Moody. "It was a skilled witch who put the boy's name in that goblet..."
"Ah, and Professor," Madame Maxime began as she and Karkaroff joined the group, "What evidence is zere of zat?"
"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" Moody replied. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament..."
"You're saying that someone entered Harry's name under a fourth school?" Lily guessed.
"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," Karkaroff said, narrowing his eyes.
"It's my job to think the way Dark wizards do, Karkaroff," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "As you oughta remember..."
"Moody!" Lily said warningly. "Let's not point fingers. As much as I'm worried for my son's safety, I've got nothing but faith in his magical skills. It seems he and Ivy have both been selected and..." she puffed out a tired breath, "have got to compete."
Harry looked particularly chuffed at the comment on his skills.
"Darling, please," James said. "He's too young! All of them are too young! Honestly, Professor," he turned to Dumbledore, "what were you thinking bringing this death-trap back?"
"James," Dumbledore said calmly, "I would be delighted to reassure you further on the measures Ludo and Barty and I have taken for the safety of the champions at a later time."
James seemed like he wanted to argue further, but a stern glance from Lily held him back.
"Well, shall we get a crack on, then?" said Dumbledore, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"
"Yes," Mr. Crouch said as he stepped forward, "instructions. The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Ivy, Harry, Henri and Viktor. "So we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard, one of the most important."
Ivy felt her dad grab her hand tightly and squeezed him back reassuringly.
"The first task will take place on twenty-four November, in front of the other students and the panel of judges," Mr. Crouch explained. "The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teacher to complete tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands and their wits. They shall also be exempted from the end-of year test."
"Splendid," Dumbledore said when Mr. Crouch finished. "Barty, Ludo, as I'm sure you'll be returning to you homes, I bid you farewell. Karkaroff, Olympe, a nightcap?" he said, turning to the Headmaster and Mistress.
But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Henri's shoulders and was firmly pulling him toward the exit. Henri saluted Ivy one last time before he was completely dragged out.
Karkaroff too, had beckoned Krum to follow him. As the two passed the remaining group of Oleander, Lily, James, Sirius, Harry and Ivy, Karkaroff stopped short. His eyes flickered between Lily and Ivy.
"The prophecy..." he muttered. "The doppelgänger..." Something behind the group caught his eyes and they widened in shock before he quickly scurried himself and Krum out of the room.
Ivy watched them go, Karkaroff's words lingering in her mind. She looked to the group to see if anybody else had heard. It didn't seem like they had. Then, she turned to look at what had caught Karkaroff's eye, only to see Professor Moody and Dumbledore in light conversation.
"Merlin's balls," Sirius exclaimed, throwing an arm around both Harry and Ivy, "My favourite godson and my favourite niece, both bloody champions!"
"I'm your only godson," said Harry at the same time Ivy said, "I'm your only niece."
"Sirius, could you please take this serious—" Lily cut himself off the moment the words came out of her mouth.
"But, dear, I always take thi—"
Lily held up a single finger. "Don't. Kids," she turned to Harry and Ivy, "we are going to come to every task to cheer you on, alright?" She looked at Ivy and added, "and I'll be sure to pick your dad up as well."
"I'm still not okay with this," James cut in.
Sirius sighed and grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back. "I'm going to take Prongs to the pub to calm him down," he said and dragged James to the fireplace. "I'm proud of you kids!"
"I love you!" James said as he was shoved in.
"Be sure to invite that Remus bloke!" Ivy called out as Sirius and James were engulfed in green flames, just in time to recognize the obscene hand gesture Sirius sent her way.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape walked up to the remaining four people.
"I cannot express how proud I am that not one, but two Gryffindors have been selected as champions," McGonagall said, a rare smile on her face. "I expect great thing from you both. And," she lowered her voice as she side-glanced at Snape, "you've helped me win a bet from Severus."
"That's what I strive for, Professor," Ivy said, beaming proudly.
"Severus?" Oleander wondered, studying the black-robed man closely. "Severus Snape?" He turned to Lily. "The kid from Cokeworth?"
"Hello, Oleander. Pleasure to see you again," Snape drawled in a particular tone that suggested it was, in fact, not a pleasure.
"The kid from Cokeworth is a Professor?" he said again, a flabbergasted look on his face.
Snape rolled his eyes as McGonagall and him took their leave.
"I can't believe it..." Oleander muttered. Ivy slowly patted his shoulder in comfort.
"Harry, Ivy," I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at the both of them. "I am sure Gryffindor is waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."
With one last hug to their parents, Ivy and Harry left together.
The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the Halloween pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality. They traversed the empty corridors in a comfortable silence.
Ivy's mind was still riding the high that had come with the loud cheers from all three schools, all of it directed at her. When she entered her name she had never even considered the now-real possibility of being chosen. But here she was. Here they were.
"So," Ivy began. "That was certainly something. Guess we're competing against each other."
"I s'pose," said Harry, a distant look in his eyes.
"Hey," she said softly, coming to a stop in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, that lead into the Gryffindor common room. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah," he muttered, rubbing his eyes beneath his round glasses, "just tired."
"Look, I know we've only known each other for a little while and that you called me mum when you first saw me—"
"To be fair, you two are identical," Harry cut in.
"—and we've known we are actually... cousins," she said, the word feeling much more real when saying it to Harry's face like this, "for even shorter, but you can talk to me. About anything. We're not quite family yet," she said honestly. "But I reckon we're mates now, right?"
Harry looked up at Ivy. "I'd like that."
"Good, because you're stuck with me now. Besides, we make a great team; didn't get lost once on our way to the common room." She gestured to the portrait, the loud noises already coming from behind it. "Honestly, I should've been given a map of this place. It's gigantic!" she huffed.
Harry's brow furrowed as a small, sly smile crossed his face. "I reckon I've got something to help with that."
"You do?"
He nodded. "I'll show you later. First, let's go in and see what Fred, George and Lee have in store for us this time."
Ivy chuckled and spoke the passwordto the Fat Lady. Together they stepped inside.