Harry sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration.
“Fine. Answer me this,” Croaker said.
“Does the prophecy say that only you can kill him?”
“It says that one of us must die at the hand of the other,” Harry admitted reluctantly.
Croaker sank back into his chair, visibly relieved.
“Good. That means we can use this to our advantage,” he said to Filmore, who nodded grudgingly.
“Mr. Potter… we need you. If our world is to survive, we need your help.”
“You said the damage was irreversible,” Harry pointed out.
“It is irreversible now,” Croaker conceded.
“But it only became that way between 1978 and 1981, when the worst losses occurred—after Barty Crouch gave Aurors the authority to kill.”
Harry let the words sink in.
Then, with a sharp bark of laughter, realization hit him.
“You’re talking about sending me back in time,” he said incredulously.
“You know you can only go back a few hours with a Time-Turner, right?” He kept laughing, certain they were joking.
“We are deadly serious, Potter,” Filmore growled, cutting Harry’s laughter short.
“You’re… not joking?” Harry asked weakly.
“No,” Croaker confirmed, his expression grave.
“You will have the chance to kill the Dark Lord before the worst damage is done. You could save countless lives.”
“But I’m not strong enough to beat him,” Harry said bluntly.
“We will train you first,” Croaker assured him.
“Filmore, fetch Mr. Potter’s Hogwarts transcript.”
Filmore left the room, clearly unhappy about the task.
“You are an orphan,” Croaker continued once they were alone.
“This gives you the opportunity to save your parents… and actually get to know them.”
Harry’s head snapped up at those words.
“We intend to send you back to 1976,” Croaker explained.
“But I’ll be older by the time you send me,” Harry protested.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Croaker said, a spark of excitement in his voice.
“Follow me.”
He released Harry’s bonds and led him down a familiar corridor into a large, empty room.
“Do you recognize this place?” Croaker asked.
“Sort of,” Harry replied uncertainly, looking around the vast chamber.
“This used to be where we studied time,” Croaker explained.
“Until you and your friends destroyed all our Time-Turners. That’s why Filmore is so hostile toward you—this was his domain.”
“I’m sorry,” Harry said genuinely.
“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.”
Croaker led him to one wall and pointed.
A strange, grainy substance coated the surface.
“You and your friends accidentally created something extraordinary,” he said with a small smile.
“This grain is the sand from the Time-Turners. Somehow, you created a space where time does not pass. As impossible as it sounds, it’s true.”
Harry stared in awe.
“How?”
“We have no idea,” Croaker admitted.
“We only discovered it during the cleanup. One of our workers stepped inside, came straight back out, and claimed he had spent hours cleaning. The room was spotless. We confirmed it ourselves. We will use this room to train you… and eventually to send you back. The mechanism is already being built.”
Harry nodded, though his mind was only half listening.
The thought of seeing his parents—and Sirius—alive again overwhelmed everything else.
A sudden worry struck him.
“How do I get back here when I’m done?”
Croaker sighed and led him back to the original room, gesturing for Harry to sit.
“There is no coming back, Mr. Potter,” he said bluntly.
“What will happen to everyone here?” Harry asked, swallowing hard.
“We believe this timeline will adjust to reflect the changes you make. But we won’t remember any of this. You simply won’t exist here anymore.”
“So I leave and never see my friends again,” Harry whispered.
“It is a necessary sacrifice,” Croaker said sympathetically.
“That is why we want your willing cooperation. You are going back either way, but we want to give you the best possible chance. The bright side is that you will get to know your parents… and have a real life with them if you succeed.”
Harry sighed but nodded.
It was better than nothing.
“Won’t I have to change my name?” he asked dejectedly.
Croaker smiled.
“Not at all. You will go back as yourself. There is already a family there who will be delighted to have you.”
“Who?”
“Your own, of course. Charlus and Dorea Potter will take you in without hesitation once they understand who you are.”
“Charlus and Dorea?” Harry repeated, confused.
“Your grandparents,” Croaker said, frowning slightly.
“And how do I explain this to them? To my father?” Harry asked.
“He’ll be the same age as me. Won’t everyone know they only have one child?”
“Your family has always been known for its secrets,” Croaker replied dismissively.
“It won’t shock anyone that Charlus and Dorea kept something like this hidden. They were extremely private. I’m sure you’ll come up with a suitable story together.”
Harry nodded, though he wasn’t entirely convinced.
“What do I even say to them?” he asked weakly.
“Especially to my dad?”
“You tell them the truth,” Croaker said firmly.
“Every last bit of it. Hiding things or lying will only cause problems.”
Seeing Harry’s hesitation, Croaker added gently, “The most trusted man of that time was Dumbledore. Seek him out first. He will be able to verify your identity and help smooth things over.”