The boy was only sixteen, yet he had already seen more horrors than most men would witness in a lifetime.
He should have been worrying about homework, Quidditch, and spending time with friends—not planning to fight a murderous dark wizard because of some dubious prophecy.
Charlus had never held much faith in Divination.
He could see that Harry would not be easily swayed.
The boy was stubborn—very much like his own wife.
“You still have two years of school left,” Charlus suggested.
“Why don’t you finish them and see how things develop? It will at least give you time to prepare properly.”
“That was my plan,” Harry replied.
“I came here today intending to return to Hogwarts. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“And that is the main problem we must solve,” Dumbledore interjected.
“As you can see, the resemblance between Harry and young James is striking. That is why I called you both here. We could use a glamour charm to hide the similarities—”
Charlus shook his head firmly.
“That wouldn’t be fair to the boy. One stunning spell and the glamour would fail. He’s been through enough without having to hide who he is.” His voice softened with sadness.
“We can’t claim he’s an illegitimate child either,” Dorea added.
“He would be persecuted for it.”
“And so would we,” Charlus pointed out.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Harry said quietly, realizing the complications he was creating.
“Nonsense,” Charlus replied at once.
“You are family, regardless of where—or when—you came from.” He sighed.
“I never had any siblings, so we can’t even pass you off as a nephew.”
“We have to think of something,” Dorea said, exasperated.
“The boy could pass for James’s twin.”
Charlus’s head snapped up.
A slow smirk spread across his face.
Dorea paused, then her eyes widened.
“He could pass as James’s twin,” she whispered, looking at Harry with new consideration.
“Whoa—” Harry started, realization dawning.
“No. Just… no.”
“It could work,” Dorea concluded, ignoring his protest.
“How would that even work?” Harry asked weakly.
“It could,” Charlus agreed, growing more animated.
“Hardly anyone knew about James until we sent him to Hogwarts—except for Dilys, who is now dead, and Arcturus. He was the only one who visited the house while James was growing up.”
“We could tell him the truth,” Dorea suggested.
“It’s family business, Charlus. He would understand.”
Charlus nodded.
“We can say we sent Harry away for private tutoring. The boy is talented enough to make that believable—he’s a damn prodigy. We brought him home because of the war. We wanted him close.” He finished triumphantly.
“I would advise against informing Mr. Black,” Dumbledore cut in gravely.
“This is family business, Dumbledore,” Charlus retorted sharply.
“It no longer concerns you.”
Dumbledore simply shrugged and remained silent.
Dorea sighed.
“That’s all well and good, but you’re forgetting one rather important person.”
Charlus frowned.
“Who?”
“James,” she reminded him.
“Ah.” Charlus deflated slightly.
They sat in thoughtful silence for a moment before Charlus spoke again.
“We tell him the truth,” he said simply.
Dorea frowned.
“We can’t lie to our own son,” Charlus replied.
“He deserves the chance to know Harry. It’s not as if the boy needs babysitting. Who knows—it might even make James grow up a bit.”
He sighed before continuing.
“It won’t be easy. Far from it. But trying to hide it would only make things worse. We’re family. No matter how strange the circumstances, we look out for each other. Our family is small enough without secrets tearing it apart.”
“Honestly, it’s all right,” Harry interjected.
“I can just change my name and use glamours.” Though the reluctance was clear in his voice.
“You’ll do no such thing,” Charlus said firmly.
“You’re a Potter.”
“This is only causing problems, and I never wanted that,” Harry said sadly, standing up.
“I don’t need anything. I’m fine on my own. I have more than enough gold to buy a house after I finish school. Maybe we should just forget about this.” He moved toward the door.
He truly hadn’t wanted to disrupt their lives.
He had only come to enroll at Hogwarts and perhaps find an ally in Dumbledore.
Instead, everything had spiraled.
“And what about us?” Dorea asked, emotion cracking her voice as she rose to her feet.
“You expect us to simply forget we met you?” She shook her head.
“You are our grandson, Harry. No matter how you came to be here.”
Harry paused with his hand on the doorknob, swallowing hard.
Charlus stood and placed a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder.
“As I said, our family is small, Harry,” he spoke quietly.
“We never had the chance to have more children after James.” His voice caught.
“We can’t just pretend you aren’t here. You are family, and you have no one else. James will understand. It may take time, but he will. He always wanted a brother—just as we always wanted more children.” He offered a weak but sincere smile.
“I never had a family,” Harry whispered.
“And now you do,” Charlus replied.
“It will take some adjustment, but we will make it work.”
“But it’s not fair to my dad,” Harry said, shaking his head.
“And it would be even more unfair to hide from him and deny him the chance to know you,” Charlus pointed out gently.