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 13: Beneath the Mask

The Potter estate had grown quieter since Harry's arrival, but the air still carried an unspoken tension. Dorea sat in the sunlit parlor with her husband, Charlus, as they watched Harry in the corner. He knelt beside a broken chair, his hands moving fluidly over it without a wand. With a simple gesture, the snapped leg reattached itself, the wood smoothing over seamlessly as if it had never been damaged.

"Thank you, Harry," Dorea said, her voice warm but cautious. "That chair's been waiting for repairs for years."

Charlus grumbled good-naturedly. "Wasn't exactly a priority, was it?" He leaned back in his chair, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Harry straightened, dusting his hands off, though they were spotless. "No trouble at all."

Dorea exchanged a glance with Charlus before turning back to Harry. "You've been with us for a little while now," she began carefully, "and we'd like to know more about you. About the man who claims to be our grandson."

Harry's calm demeanor didn't falter, but Dorea noticed the subtle tightening of his jaw. "What would you like to know?"

"Who you are," Charlus said plainly. "Not just your name, but the life you've led. The kind of person James raised you to be."

At the mention of James, a flicker of something—sadness? longing?—crossed Harry's face. He turned toward the window, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I can't tell you much about the future," he said after a moment. "It's dangerous. Too much meddling can destroy the timeline."

"We're not asking for predictions," Dorea said softly. "We just want to understand you."

Harry sighed, his shoulders rising and falling. With a flick of his hand, the curtains drew themselves open wider, allowing more sunlight to flood the room. "The truth is, my life has been... complicated."

Dorea rose and moved to his side, her tone gentle. "We can see that. You're carrying something heavy. You don't have to do it alone anymore."

Harry turned slightly, meeting her gaze. For a moment, his mask slipped, and she saw the weight of years pressing on him. "I've had to make choices that no one should ever have to make. I've fought battles no one was prepared for. I've... lost things I can never get back."

Charlus stood and joined them, his expression somber. "That's war," he said quietly. "I've seen it myself. But you're here now, with us. Whatever burden you're carrying, you don't have to shoulder it alone."

Harry gave a faint, almost bitter smile. "I appreciate that, but you don't know what you're offering."

"Then help us understand," Dorea urged, placing a hand on his arm.

Harry hesitated, then raised his other hand, palm open. A small, flickering flame appeared, hovering above his hand. It danced and shifted, forming the shape of a phoenix before dissipating into the air. "Imagine living in a world where nothing feels real," he said softly. "Where the people you love exist, but they don't know you. Where everything you've fought for is gone, replaced by something unfamiliar."

Dorea's heart ached at the pain in his voice. "You've been through so much," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry nodded, his gaze distant. "I've made enemies who will never stop hunting me. And I've lost people I'd give anything to see again."

Charlus stepped closer, his voice firm. "But you're not alone now. We're here, Harry. Let us help you."

For a moment, Harry looked as though he might argue, but then he sighed and nodded. "Thank you," he said quietly.

The rest of the day passed in quiet conversation. Charlus shared tales of his battles during the Grindelwald War, and Dorea recounted James's childhood escapades. Harry didn't speak much, but he listened, and the tension in his posture gradually eased.

As the sun set and the room filled with the warm glow of twilight, Dorea watched Harry closely. Beneath his calm facade was a young man who had seen and endured far too much.

She vowed silently to help him carry his burden, no matter how much he resisted. Because, magic or not, even someone as powerful as Harry needed a family to lean on.