Temporal Paradox: The Second Chance of Harry Potter

Chapter 11

February 11th, 1976

"So how was last night?" Florence asked her while they made their way down into the Great Hall for breakfast: "You came in quite late, and that grin on your face does not match the fact that you had to take Lestrange as your date to the SlugClub..."

Marlene merely smiled at the memory of last night. It had been rather difficult to get some sleep with all those pesky butterflies in her stomach. Yet, when she woke up this morning, she felt as if she had never slept better. She decided to have some fun with her best friend: "Nothing much. I just kissed Harry last night..."

Florence had a dumbstruck expression on her face: "Who is Harry? What do you mean you kissed someone? We don't joke about these things, Mar..."

"Harry Peverell, of course, who else? I kissed him." Marlene replied with a smirk.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Florence yelled.

"Shhh!" Marlene hushed her and looked around nervously. However, thank Morgana, the corridor was empty: "Be quiet or I won't tell you anything!"

"Fine!" The brunette hissed: "But you better spill before we get to breakfast!"

"Alright, alright." Marlene giggled: "Listen up then!"

Five minutes later, Florence stared at her friend in utter bewilderment while walking into the Great Hall and towards the Ravenclaw table: "I can't believe it. My best friend did what every girl in this castle has been dreaming about for over a month. You actually kissed Harry Peverell..."

"It was just a peck on the cheek," Marlene whispered. She rolled her eyes as Florence gave a little squeak and helped herself to some breakfast after sitting down. A quick glance over to the table in red and gold confirmed that Harry, she still had to get used to saying his first name, was not there yet.

"Yes, but you also gave him a hug..." Florence said in a low voice: "How did it feel? You know…? Hugging him?"

Marlene smiled involuntarily. She clearly remembered inhaling his pleasant scent and the way she felt secure and comfortable in his arm: "I don't know… He's got a nice body, so it felt pretty good." She shrugged.

"Nice body?" Florence repeated: "You better take some pictures of him as soon as you get his robes off, Mar! If he looks like that in his robes, just imagine what he looks like underneath it. I bet I could use his abs to cut beetle eyes..."

"Morgana, something is seriously wrong with you, Flor..." Marlene groaned: "And I will certainly not take pictures of him once we get to that stage!" She snapped back: "I don't share like that, Florence!"

Hah!" Her best friend grinned triumphantly: "So you do intend to get his robes off, I knew it."

Luckily for Marlene, she was saved in just that moment by the arrival of the post owls. Today, a light brown one brought her the new edition of the Daily Prophet. Not in the mood to be teased relentlessly by her best friend, Marlene quickly unfolded the newspaper and was greeted by the very face that had occupied her thought the entire morning. Unfortunately, the headline below it did not sound good at all.

"Flo..." She nudged her friend with her elbow while her thoughts drifted back to last night and the parting words of Lestrange:

"This little shit will get what's coming for him! Everyone will see it tomorrow!"

He had known about this... His father must have told him all about it.

"I think your boyfriend is in some serious trouble, Mar..." Florence remarked gravely as she skimmed over the headline: "This is not good news at all..."

Five Minutes later

Harry whistled a little tune as he descended the giant staircase with the Marauders on his way to get some breakfast. He was in an exceptionally good mood, especially since last night had gone better than he could have ever imagined. When Slughorn asked him to accompany Marlene back to her house, he would have almost danced in happiness on the spot. They had finally gotten to know each other a bit better, and he even managed to open up a bit.

Once you got past the whole cold pureblood princess demeanor, she was actually very pleasant to talk to. She was a very bright student, intelligent and ambitious. Her desire to become an Unspeakable seemed genuine and Harry could tell that she was just as eager to learn more about magic than he had been after the removal of the Horcrux inside him.

Of course, then there was also the natural physical attraction between the two. Walking together with her by his side, simply felt right to him, as if Mother Magic herself urged them to do it. Harry had never felt something like that before. Not with Cho, not with Ginny, and certainly not with any of the girls he met during his time at university. The way it had felt holding her in his arms, with her soft body pressed against his. The spot on his cheek where her lips met his skin practically still burned like fire...

"Mate, did you simply have a good workout, or did something happen at the Slug Club?" James asked with a grin.

"Just a good workout out." Harry lied, not wanting to reveal the new status of his relationship with the prettiest girl at Hogwarts yet: "I can't wait for quidditch season to resume. I feel like kicking some Slytherin ass."

"Your grin tells me you are more in the mood for some Ravenclaw ass..." Sirius barked in laughter: "And by chance, I know you had set your eyes on a remarkably shapely one only recently..."

"It's a work in progress, guys..." Harry chuckled as they passed through the doors of the Great Hall. He immediately knew that something was wrong. Every pair of eyes had turned on him. He was vaguely reminded of how things were in his second year when everyone thought he was the heir of Slytherin. Or during his fourth year, when his popularity had taken another hit after his name came out of the Goblet of Fire.

"Why the hell are they all looking like that?" James frowned as he walked over to the Gryffindor table.

"Perhaps someone caught me and Sirius' cousin in a broom closet last night and took a picture." Harry joked, not really caring too much about what his peers might be fussing about. He shot a quick glance to Marlene at the Ravenclaw table and saw her worried expression. Okay... Perhaps it was worse than he thought? The Slytherins looked extremely smug, especially Rabastan Lestrange, who actually stood up and yelled all the way from across the Great Hall:

"You are finished now, Fraud!"

Harry did not even bother to reply since McGonagall was already on the case: "Five points from Slytherin, Mr. Lestrange. You will refrain from shouting in the Great Hall, or it will be detention!"

Lestrange looked like he couldn't care less about what the Gryffindor's Head of House thought about him. Harry couldn't wait for the day he would finally wipe that smug grin off of the Slytherin's face. Soon... He sat down next to Lily and gestured for her edition of the Daily Prophet: "May I?"

She gave him a worried nod, so Harry flicked to the front page to see what the fuss was all about...

THE FOREIGN FRAUD

Did Harry Peverell Lie About His Identity?

By Rita Skeeter (Intern at the Daily Prophet)

Dear readers,

As promised, the Daily Prophet is keeping you up to date with news on Britain's most eligible Bachelor, Harry Peverell. Unfortunately, recently published information presents concern on whether or not the young man's story has been told truthfully. The Wizengamot held an emergency meeting last evening to discuss evidence of fraud and line theft provided by Lord Abraxas Malfoy and Lord Corvus Lestrange. Lord Malfoy was so generous as to provide us with an overview of the claims:

"We have firm reason to believe that the wizard, who calls himself Harry Peverell, is not who he proclaims to be. It is our opinion that the public deserves to know who exactly sits in these chambers and represents their interests. It is, therefore, our duty to verify anyone who wishes to join the Wizengamot upon their seventeenth birthday. Various Lords and Ladies have raised their concerns that someone so young shall be joining our ranks even though said person clearly has no political experience. We know nothing about Mr. Peverell, and for all intents and purposes, he could very well be a fraud. Therefore, we requested for the Ministry to perform a thorough background check of one Harry Ignotus Peverell, including information on his place of birth, previous education, and any living relatives."

"Following the laws of our ancestors, the Ministry has performed an independent analysis and contacted the magical governments of every ICW nation. You can imagine our surprise when not a single one of them has found information or could provide us a file on Harry Peverell. We, therefore, accuse him of being a fraud and attempting the most heinous crime of line left. This deceitful behavior and the audacity to try to fool us into believing him to be a descendant of a House as prestigious as the Peverells, is a serious offense. Particularly, if we think about the power the boy would have held with his vote in Wizengamot."

From what various reporters of the Daily Prophet found out, Harry Ignotus Potter will therefore be trailed publicly on February 13th, 1976. He is facing up to life in Azkaban for document forgery, fraudulent behavior, identity theft, and line theft. The trial will be open to the public and held at the Ministry of Magic. We eagerly await the outcome of said trial and will continue reporting on any developments in the meantime.

Harry stared at the article. If he did not know any better, he would have guessed that it was a joke. A low chuckle escaped his lips as he thought about a fuming Lucius and Abraxas Malfoy, who were joined by Corvus Lestrange to plot against him. He looked up to his friends, staring at him in utter bewilderment, at how someone could laugh in this situation.

Just then, a common, brown owl dropped another letter right in front of him, with the official seal of the Ministry of Magic on it. Knowing what it would entail, Harry wasted no further time and opened it up with an amused smile on his face.

Dear Mr. Peverell,

During the processing of your application for a seat on the Wizengamot, the Ministry was unable to verify any background information you provided. A general lack of data to confirm your identity led to the decision to formally trial you for document forgery, fraudulent behavior, identity theft, and linetheft. You are hereby summoned to the Ministry of Magic for a hearing, on February 13th, 1976, in Courtroom Ten. Legal defense will be provided to you, shall you find yourself unable to bring your own. Naturally, you are not forbidden from defending yourself.

We hope you have a pleasant day and expect you soon,

Barthemius Crouch II

Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement

So, Barty Crouch Sr. was going to trial him. That was a tad concerning since Harry knew how ruthless the man could be. Still, he had an ace up his sleeve. A demonstration that would leave no doubt that he was indeed the acting heir of the Peverell family.

"Why the long faces guys?" Harry snorted: "You must admit, it's kind of funny."

Admittedly, two weeks ago, it would not have been that funny. However, now... he absently rubbed along the gemstone on his ring... now he had undeniable proof that he was indeed a Peverell.

"Mate... I don't think you quite realize what you've gotten yourself into yet." Sirius shook his head. For once in his life, he was actually serious: "This is not some detention with Filch, Harry. This is the fucking Wizengamot, we are talking about. They might just pump you full of Veritaserum and throw you in Azkaban."

"There is a first time for everything, Padfoot." Harry smiled knowingly and helped himself to some breakfast: "Perhaps I will be the first one to break out of Azkaban."

"Completely barmy, this one..." Sirius shook his head: "James, can you talk to Aunt Dorea about this. He needs some support."

"Knowing my parents, there is probably already a letter on its way." James frowned while watching Harry continue with his breakfast routine as if he did not have a single care in the world.

Harry helped himself to some eggs and let his eyes roam over the students of the Great Hall. Most of them seemed very disappointed with his lack of a reaction, especially the Slytherins. They could not comprehend how someone could remain so calm when facing a lifelong prison sentence.

Harry felt more annoyed by the entire drama. It reminded him of his trial for fighting off the two Dementors at the beginning of his fifth year. Apparently, the Ministry would continue to be incompetent, no matter what timeline he might find himself in.

Harry noticed the worried looks a certain blonde shot him from the Ravenclaw table. He tried to reassure her that it was all fine with a small smile, but it did not change the expression on Marlene's face. Harry watched the heated exchange between her and her brunette friend for a minute before an owl he recognized as the Potter's owl, interrupted his thoughts. He almost forgot… His grandfather was on the Wizengamot.

"Mom and dad?" James asked from beside him.

"Yep." Harry replied. Let's see what they thought about the entire affair. He broke the seal and opened up the envelope:

Dear Harry,

We want you to know that we did not believe any of the accusations against you. Not even for a second! We have gotten to know you over the Christmas break, and we are convinced that you are an honest young man, whose few secrets are simply the result of an extremely difficult past. Charlus has done his best to stop this affair from being set in motion, but alas, he was simply outvoted. The majority of conservative pureblood families don't like change and, as unfortunate as it sounds, the evidence that was gathered so far does speak against you.

However, all is not lost yet, Harry. I have talked to my brother, Lord Arcturus Black. He is willing to meet with you and provide an overview of how the hearing, or should I say trial, might run its course. In addition, he agreed to work on a defense with you. You shall meet him at the ancestral townhall of the Blacks, At Grimmauld Place 12, tomorrow at 11:00 am. Make sure to be on time and act as politely as possible. My brother can be a somewhat difficult person to get along with, but I assure you he always puts family first. I have firmly ensured him that you now belong to that group. We wish you the best of luck and will, of course, support you on the 13th in person.

Love,

Dorea and Charlus

Yikes! From what Minerva had told him in his original timeline, Arcturus Black was perhaps the sharpest politician of the century and never cared about stepping on anybody's toes. Even Voldemort tried to avoid him while recruiting as many members of the Black family as possible for his cause.

"What are they saying?" James inquired curiously. The other Marauders were watching with equal interest.

"Apparently your dad tried to stop them, but he was outvoted." Harry shrugged: "In addition they organized a tutoring lesson with Sirius' Grandfather for me, to prepare me for my trial."

Whereas James buckled in laughter, Sirius's eyes widened: "Honestly, you might want to just accept whatever punishment the Wizengamot sees fit. I could imagine nothing worse than spending one on one time with my grandfather..."

"I will be fine..." Harry rolled his eyes at the boy's dramatics: "I have heard a bit about him already, but I am sure he can't be that bad. He is Dorea's brother and she is the most caring person in the world."

"You don't understand, Harry..." Sirius shook his head: "The man is so ruthless and sharp-witted that even Dumbledore avoids arguing with him during a Wizengamot session."

"Sounds like he makes for a good head of the family then." Harry shrugged.

"You are in for a rude awakening, mate." James shook his head: "Have you given any thought on how you are going to defend yourself?"

"I have a few ideas already..." Harry nodded: "Just believe me when I say that my enthusiasm right now is not just some Gryffindorish act... I have a plan, as I always do!" He laughed.

"I hope you do, mate..." Remus snickered: "I know someone who would be rather upset if you happen to be locked away in Azkaban." He gestured for the Ravenclaw table, where a patch of blonde curls jerked at being caught staring and Marlene quickly occupied herself with her homework again.

Harry grinned. While there was no reason to be concerned about him, it was still nice to see that she cared so much: "I will find a way to let her know that I will be fine." He assured the others.

"You better do so, mate..." James frowned: "Because Lestrange does not seem to like the fact that the girl he is courting is shooting glances at you."

Ravenclaw Table

"How can he be so calm?!" Marlene skimmed over the article once more: "They want to throw him in Azkaban for the rest of his life and he is laughing and joking over there! I wish I could just walk up to him and slap him for being such a prat and never taking anything seriously!"

"Wow, you guys act like a married couple already." Florence giggled: "I agree he is way too handsome to be thrown in prison, but he seems as confident as always, so he must have a plan, Mar. It will do you no good to worry about it. We know he can handle himself among adults and from what you have told me about last night, he does not look like a complete novice to the pureblood political game either."

"That's not some petty school politics, Flo..." Marlene snapped: "We are talking about the Wizengamot and at the end of the day, he is still a fifteen-year-old boy!"

"We have both never encountered a fifteen-year-old like him." Florence just shrugged: "I know your emotions are all over the place right now, but you really need to pull yourself together, especially since Lestrange is coming over."

Marlene flinched upon hearing that name and quickly forced her face into a neutral expression. Her soon-to-be betrothed could never learn about her feelings for the raven-haired Gryffindor. Indeed, only a few seconds later, Rabastan Lestrange stood next to her, scowling down at her. The smug expression from earlier this morning, when she entered the Great Hall, was gone.

"What happened with Peverell, last night?!" He barked at her.

"An apology for how you have acted last night would be more appropriate. I have never felt so embarrassed about someone else before." Marlene replied coldly.

Lestrange's face shifted into a mask of anger and his hand twitched. Marlene knew that if they were not in the middle of the Great Hall, but an empty corridor, he would have probably hit her. However, she called upon her inner Gryffindor and held his gaze defiantly.

"I am going to ask you one more time, McKinnon, and you had better answer truthfully..." Lestrange hissed in a whisper: "What happened with Peverell, last night?!"

Marlene rolled her eyes and lied effortlessly: "He was a gentleman and took me back to my common room. I even insisted on taking a shortcut, to minimize the time I would have to spend in his presence."

His dark eyes bored into hers and for a split second, Marlene was worried that he might be practicing the mind arts and could tell that she was lying. However, then she remembered just who she was dealing with. Lestrange had the emotional control of a toddler and he had never shown an aptitude for a branch of magic as delicate as Occlumency or Legilimency. There was nothing to worry about.

"Fine!" He spat: "You will continue avoiding him. He is a fraud and not worthy to lick the dirt from my boots. You will still accompany me to Hogsmeade!"

"If you insist." Marlene rolled her eyes: "I merely ask you to control yourself. Your actions yesterday reflected badly on your family and by extension my own. You will not accompany me to any further meetings of the Slug Club if you don't restrain your emotional outbursts." She finished confidently.

His hands twitched once more and the vein on his forehead became more prominent. He bent over slightly and brought his lips close to her ear. Marlene remained completely still and held her breath. The small hairs on her neck stood up, as did the ones on her arms. However, the goosebump was entirely different from the one she felt during the few occasions Harry had touched her. She felt his breath close to her ear: "By the end of summer, you will be mine... And then you will regret any occasion you disrespected me."

With that, he swiftly turned around and left. Marlene took a few seconds and inhaled deeply. Her hand was slightly shaking, and Florence gently took it in her own, while the other one patted her back. Marlene looked up when she felt someone's eyes on her from the Gryffindor table.

Harry Peverell was watching her and had most likely seen the entire interaction with Lestrange. His look was one of pure determination that said it all: I will never allow that to happen...

February 12th, 1976

Lord Arcturus Black's sharp gray eyes flickered over the accounting report of the Black Vaults for the year 1975. The entries all seemed to be in order, but he would double-check them later. The greedy Goblins would undoubtedly use every opportunity to rob his family of every Galleon possible. He was a rather distrusting and cynical man; he always has been. Arcturus glanced over at the golden watch on the wall to his left: 10:58 am

The boy better be on time otherwise even Arcturus' sweet little sister would not be able to help him. Two days ago, the Wizengamot had set in motion an official trial for Harry Ignotus Peverell, a young man his sister had grown fond of. The accusations: Line theft and fraud something Arcturus loathed almost as much as outright murder or rape.

Family was everything to him and to unlawfully claim to be a descendant of one, simply to elevate one's social standing, was the peak of insolence in his eyes. Nevertheless, Charlus had asked him to come over to Potter Manor after that specific Wizengamot session, and together they shared what would happen to the boy with Dorea.

His sister had instantly asked him to help the boy out and be it just by explaining the basics of tomorrow's trial for him. Sharp as he may be, he had never been able to deny his sweet little sister a single wish. Publicly supporting the boy during the trial might be difficult, but at least he could give him a general overview.

A noise from his fireplace made him look up. That should be him. At least he was on time. With a flick of his wand, he adjusted the wards to grant the visitor access through the Floo. A second later, a young man stepped out of the fireplace. Arcturus had been told that he showed a physical similarity to the Potters, but nothing could have prepared him for just how much he resembled them.

The boy looked slightly older than the age reported in the Prophet. But then again, that Newspaper was just a collection of dragon dung. He was tall... Taller than Arcturus himself, standing perhaps an inch over six feet. His built and athletic frame reminded him of Charlus during the war against Grindelwald.

In fact, if he did not know Charlus to be the most loyal and honest man, he would have flooed over to Potter Manor right now and accused him of adultery. He also saw something of the Blacks in his face, especially from his own sister. Their high cheekbones were very similar, giving them both an aristocratic look. In addition, Peverell had the same strong jawline as many other male members of the Black family.

The only thing that fit neither to the Potter's nor the Blacks, were the vibrant, observant green eyes that took in every corner of his office. After he took in his surroundings, he patted any dust from his shoulders and stepped out of the fireplace.

"Good day, Lord Black." The young man greeted him with a bow. The flame in his orbs spoke of curiosity, yet not an ounce of fear, unlike so many other wizards his age if they were to meet with Arcturus: "It is an honor, sir."

He was sharp and knew the proper greetings. Arcturus decided to test the waters a bit: "Take a seat already, boy! We'd best get started with all the shit you've gotten yourself into."

"I agree, sir." The young man spoke confidently and walked over with firm steps to the offered chair. He took off his black cloak and placed it on the back of the chair before taking a seat. Arcturus immediately noticed the thick gold ring on his finger and the crest on it. He smirked... Perhaps this would be easier than he expected. Peverell was silent, simply watching him curiously. Good! At least the boy had some manners and only spoke when explicitly asked.

"So, you are the boy my dear little sister grew so fond of over the last few months?" Arcturus asked him.

His eyes remained just as astute, but a grin tugged on his lips and he nodded: "Yes, that would be me, sir."

"Dorea told me you grew up on the continent and that your parents have been murdered when you were very young..." Arcturus hummed: "Anything else I should know about you?"

"That's pretty much it, sir." The boy shrugged: "I just wish to spend some peaceful years at school and make a few good memories for once... Unfortunately, the Malfoys and Lestranges did not like that."

"Those shits stains!" Arcturus barked: "I should have never allowed Pollux to simply marry off his daughters to lesser Houses like that. It disgusts me almost as much as Andromeda running off with that mudblood!"

Something in the boy's expression changed at that and the fire in his eyes burned brighter. Small ripples of magic, barely noticeable, rolled off of him. Arcturus watched with inquisitiveness as the boy's knuckles whitened while he flexed his fists, yet he remained silent. He was not a fan of blood purists then... And yet he had extraordinary emotional control for a fifteen-year-old...

"Well, then..." Arcturus continued: "Let's get started with your defense. What means do you have to prove that you are indeed the heir to the Peverells? You should know that they will dismiss your birth certificate as evidence because it was created with only goblins as witnesses."

"How very unfortunate..." Peverell just replied, seemingly unbothered.

Arcturus nodded in agreement: "I must admit I was quite amazed at hearing your name again. My own grandfather told me bedtime stories about your ancestors, but your line is supposed to be long extinct, boy."

"And yet here I am, sir. Those must have been some scary bedtime stories..." He inclined his head for a smile: "And as to what proof I have..." He slowly took off the thick golden ring and placed it on the wooden table: "If this does not satisfy the ministry, then there are still more drastic measures I can rely on."

Arcturus carefully reached out for the ring and placed it in his open palm. It buzzed with enchantments against his skin, sending small cold waves of magic that rippled up his arm. He held it closer to his eyes and studied the Thestral crest in its center. With his other hand, Arcturus opened a drawer under his desk and pulled out a thick leathery tome. Then he started flicking pages, while the boy watched him curiously without saying a word.

"Parkinson..."

"Patil..."

"Peverell... There we go!"

Arcturus finally flicked to the right page and was greeted by what little was known about one of Magical Britain's oldest families. However, his eyes flickered up to the corner of the page, where the family's crest was displayed. He studied the Black Thestral with white eyes and the weird assembly of lines within a golden circle for a few more seconds.

"Either you are a phenomenal craftsman and copied the design flawlessly, or this is indeed the Peverell Ring." Arcturus nodded: "I can feel the magic in it, and I certainly don't intend to try to put it on my finger..."

"What would happen if someone, who is not of Peverell blood, were to try to put it on?" The boy asked curiously.

"Removing a Lord's ring can already lead to grave injuries if it is done against the Lord's will." Arcturus explained patiently: "However, even the attempt to wear it is usually punished by a very painful death. At least that is the case with most rings from ancient houses, so I would assume the same for yours. However, you still need a backup in case this fails..."

"As I mentioned, sir, I have a very impressive backup that will leave no doubt who I am." Peverell nodded: "Nevertheless, I will only make use of it if there is no other way around it. There are too many nosy people, trying to put their crooked noses where they don't belong..."

"Hah!" Arcturus grinned: "Not a fan of Dumbledore then?"

"The man has an unhealthy obsession with my family. You may call it a childhood trauma..." Peverell gave him a cold smile: "Regardless, it will be very amusing to publicly embarrass the Lords that tried their best to discredit and get rid of me."

"You understand that I will only support you in the courtroom if you manage to convince the majority of Lords and Ladies there..." Arcturus mused: "My family has too many enemies already and I don't intend to increase that number even further..."

"Fear not, Lord Black." Peverell placed his heavy ring back on his finger. Perhaps Arcturus had just imagined the brief flash in his eyes as his finger connected with the ring: "I have the distinct feeling that we share a few enemies in common. This trial is nothing but a nuisance and it annoys me greatly. Yet, I also see it as an opportunity to finally... How did the Prophet put it? Stir things up... My response to it will be more than worth it."

The cold smile on the boy's lips spread and his emerald eyes sparkled with foreboding. Arcturus did not know what kind of backup plan Peverell would use if they dismissed the rings as evidence. However, for once, it seemed he agreed with the nosy headmaster of Hogwarts. Peverell might be young, but he was someone to watch out for. There was something about the boy and his killing curse eyes that gave him the creeps.