Charlus immediately scoffed.
“What kind of nonsense are you trying to pull, you old relic?” he demanded angrily.
“James is about the same age as this boy, and we have no other children—as you well know.”
“Indeed,” Dumbledore acknowledged with a sigh.
“Young Harry here was born in 1980.”
Charlus barked out a laugh.
“You’ve gone mad. That’s four years from now!”
“Charlus,” Dorea cut in warningly.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation.” Her tone was calm, but her eyes were bright with curiosity.
“There is,” Dumbledore replied.
“But I believe Harry should be the one to explain it. I only know the bare minimum.”
Both Potters turned their gaze to Harry, who immediately felt the weight of their stares.
“I’m sorry,” he began, voice unsteady.
“I wasn’t planning to bother you. I don’t want anything from you,” he added sincerely.
“But I had to come back… to kill Voldemort.”
“Kill—?” Dorea’s eyes widened in shock.
“You’re just a boy. Why on earth would you need to do that?”
Harry sighed.
“There are things you don’t understand.”
“Then try,” Dorea said firmly.
Harry took another steadying breath.
“James really is my father. I was born in 1980. My name is Harry James Potter. Voldemort killed my parents when I was a year old. He tried to kill me too… but he failed. He’s been trying ever since.”
“James was killed?” Dorea asked, her voice trembling with fear.
“Yes,” Harry confirmed quietly.
“Why the hell wouldn’t you have been raised by us?” Charlus demanded, anger flashing in his eyes.
“You were already dead,” Harry replied with a shrug.
“I didn’t even know you existed until a few months ago.”
Dorea shook her head, looking at him with profound sadness.
“But that still doesn’t explain why you have to be the one to kill him,” she pointed out.
“It’s… complicated,” Harry said, shooting a quick glance at Dumbledore.
He didn’t want to discuss certain things with the Headmaster present.
“I’m sorry, but we need to understand,” Dorea insisted gently.
Harry nodded.
“Do any of you know Legilimency?”
“I do,” Charlus answered.
“I’ll drop my Occlumency shields,” Harry said.
“You can see for yourself why I have to do this. But… a lot of my memories are painful. I won’t stop you from looking at anything you need to. I just want you to know I’m telling the truth and not trying to deceive you.”
“You know Occlumency?” Charlus asked, surprised.
Harry nodded.
Charlus and Dorea shared a long look.
The man finally nodded resolutely.
“All right. It will put any doubts to rest.”
He drew his wand and looked at Harry intently.
“Legilimens,” he whispered, diving into the boy’s mind.
Dumbledore quietly conjured a glass and filled it with the same brown liquor he had drunk earlier, placing it on the desk in front of Charlus’s empty chair.
Dorea glanced at him worriedly.
“I saw some of his memories earlier,” Dumbledore explained softly.
“I fear your husband will need it when he’s finished.”
Dorea raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
She hated Legilimency, but she understood its necessity here. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Harry sat perfectly still as his life played out in a rapid blur before Charlus’s eyes.
He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when it finally ended, his head was pounding fiercely.
Dumbledore and Dorea watched in tense silence for nearly an hour as Charlus remained locked in the connection with Harry.
When the man finally withdrew, he staggered to his feet, turned away, and walked toward the wall, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
“Charlus?” Dorea called, worry etched in her voice.
He shook his head, unable to speak at first.
When he turned back to face Harry, his eyes were filled with tears.
He stared at the boy with a mixture of horror and utter disbelief.
“Charlus… what did you see?” Dorea asked.
He swallowed hard.
“Things no one—especially no child—should ever have to see.” His voice was rough.
“How in Merlin’s name are you still alive?”
Harry rubbed his throbbing temples.
“I’ve been lucky.”
Charlus shook his head.
“That was far more than luck.” He noticed the drink on the desk, picked it up, and downed it in one gulp.
“You’re one hell of a wizard,” he said, taking a deep, steadying breath.
“I just wanted you to see that I’m telling the truth,” Harry said quietly.
“Like I said, I don’t want anything from you. I only wanted to meet you… and maybe become friends with my dad.”
“I don’t doubt you for a second,” Charlus replied, his voice thick.
He sat down and placed a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder.
“But I can’t let you fight him. You’re just a boy. This shouldn’t be your burden.”
“You saw for yourself that it is,” Harry pointed out.
Charlus looked at him for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh.