HP-A New Future

I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.

https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon

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Chapter 28: Bewilderment.

The warm glow of the Potter study cast a soft light over the room, illuminating the shelves lined with books and artifacts collected over generations. The quiet crackle of the fire in the hearth provided a soothing backdrop as Harry sat in a deep armchair, staring into the flames. His posture was relaxed, but his eyes betrayed a distant contemplation, as though he were elsewhere entirely.

Dorea and Charlus entered quietly, not wanting to disturb him. Dorea carried a cup of tea in her hands, her eyes flicking between her grandson and her husband as they approached.

"Harry," Dorea said softly, her voice warm and inviting, "why didn't you join Lily and James on their walk through the gardens? They were hoping to spend some time with you."

Harry glanced up, offering a faint smile. "I didn't want to intrude. They're still newlyweds—lovebirds, really—and I figured they could use some time alone without me tagging along."

Charlus raised an eyebrow as he settled into the chair across from Harry. "Why would it feel like intruding? You're family, Harry. Surely, you know that."

Harry hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering back to the fire. "It's... a little awkward," he admitted, his voice tinged with unease.

"Awkward?" Dorea echoed as she sat down beside Charlus. "Why on earth would you feel awkward around your own parents?"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "Because they're a decade younger than me."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound. Charlus and Dorea exchanged a quick glance, their expressions carefully neutral, though both were reeling inside. A decade younger? They had known Harry was older than he appeared, but the confirmation of just how much older was startling.

Dorea tilted her head slightly, her voice calm despite the questions swirling in her mind. "A decade younger? But Harry... you look their age, perhaps even younger."

Harry chuckled softly, the sound almost self-deprecating. "That's a side effect of something that happened when I was twelve," he said casually, as though discussing the weather.

Charlus blinked, leaning forward slightly. "Twelve? What could have happened at twelve to affect how you age?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, his expression surprisingly light as he waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, I fought and killed a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets."

The casual delivery of such a statement hit Charlus and Dorea like a stunning spell. Dorea's grip tightened around her teacup, her knuckles whitening, though her face remained calm. Charlus straightened in his seat, his fingers curling tightly around the arms of his chair.

"A... basilisk?" Dorea said slowly, her tone carefully measured.

"Yeah," Harry replied, oblivious to their inner turmoil. "Big one, too—probably around fifty feet long. It was petrifying students at Hogwarts, and no one else seemed to know what to do about it. So, I went down into the Chamber, found the thing, and... handled it."

Charlus's jaw tightened, but he forced himself to maintain an air of calm. "You handled it," he repeated, his voice steady despite the thoughts racing through his mind.

"Yeah," Harry said with a shrug. "I had help, though. Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix, showed up. He blinded the basilisk, which was a lifesaver since looking it in the eye would've killed me instantly. And when it bit me..."

"It bit you?" Charlus interjected, his voice sharper than he intended.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. Basilisk venom is pretty nasty. I would've been a goner if Fawkes hadn't cried on the wound. Phoenix tears are the only antidote to basilisk venom, apparently. They saved my life."

Dorea set her teacup down on the side table, her movements deliberate as she processed what Harry had just said. "So... the venom and the phoenix tears... they're what caused your slowed aging?"

"That's my best guess," Harry replied. "Something about the interaction between the two seems to have altered how my body ages. I barely look a day older than I did when I was seventeen."

Charlus leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. He had fought in the Grindelwald War, had seen horrors that still haunted him, but the idea of a twelve-year-old boy facing a basilisk—let alone surviving—was almost beyond comprehension.

Dorea, ever the pragmatist, forced herself to maintain her composure. "That's... extraordinary, Harry," she said softly, her voice tinged with a mix of admiration and sorrow. "But I can't imagine many children would've been able to do what you did."

Harry shrugged again, as though it were nothing out of the ordinary. "I didn't really have a choice. People were in danger, and no one else was stepping up to do anything about it. So, I just... figured it out as I went."

Charlus and Dorea exchanged a glance, their expressions betraying nothing of the shock and sadness they felt. Beneath Harry's nonchalant demeanor, they could see glimpses of the life he had lived—one filled with danger, responsibility, and sacrifice far beyond his years.

"You've lived quite the life, haven't you?" Charlus said finally, his voice quiet but filled with a deep respect.

Harry's gaze softened as he looked at his grandparents. "I've had my share of adventures," he admitted. "But... I'm here now. And that's what matters, right?"

Dorea reached out, placing a gentle hand on his. "You're right, Harry. You're here now, and you're not alone anymore. Whatever comes next, we'll face it together."

Charlus nodded firmly, his voice steady and resolute. "You're a Potter, Harry. And we protect our own."

For a moment, Harry's usual guarded expression softened, and a flicker of gratitude crossed his face. He gave them a small, genuine smile. "Thanks. That means more than you know."

The three of them sat in companionable silence, the fire crackling softly in the background. While Charlus and Dorea couldn't fully fathom the life Harry had led or the trials he had endured, they silently vowed to do everything in their power to provide him with the family and support he so clearly deserved.

Unbeknownst to them, Harry silently made a similar vow. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he belonged—not as a hero, not as a weapon, but as part of a family. And he would do whatever it took to protect them.