The Unspeakables, shrouded in their usual aura of mystery, continued their thorough examination of the nursery. They worked in silence, their methodical approach a stark contrast to the swirling confusion and speculation around them.
Dumbledore remained an enigmatic presence, his vast knowledge and understanding a closely guarded secret. He watched, his eyes betraying little, as the room grappled with the night's unfathomable events and the inconceivable notion that two young children had somehow played a pivotal role in Voldemort's downfall.
Amidst the noise and the flurry of activity, two small figures in the nursery began to stir. Harry's bright green eyes blinked open, mirroring the awakening of his brother, Charles. In that moment, as their innocent eyes took in the room full of strangers, the future remained as uncertain as the questions that filled the air.
Harry had been awake for quite some time, ever since the first group of people arrived. He was feigning sleep, keen to eavesdrop on the conversations swirling around him.
With the influx of memories and experiences from his past life, he was unsure how to behave in front of his parents and the others. Should he reveal how he and his grandmother were responsible for thwarting Voldemort this night, or should he let them puzzle it out themselves?
As he pondered this, he listened intently to Dumbledore's summation of the night's events.
Harry was also confused about who the real prophesied child was. Although the birth date of Charles matched the prophecy, but tonight Voldemort was first killed by his grandmother's sacrifice and actions. Also since he was infront of his brother to protect him, he was the one on the direct end of Voldemort's spell that got countered.
Later he defeated Voldemort again as the soul shard that had latched to his head was defeated by him. Charles played almost no role in tonight's events.
Disregarding the birth date means that Harry himself was the prophesied child or the Boy-Who-Lived.
In the end, he made up his mind. Despite the prophecy suggesting Charles as the potential 'Chosen One,' Harry felt a profound sense of duty to shoulder the burden himself. His past life's experiences and the flood of memories made him the more fitting adversary for Voldemort, more so than his younger brother, Charles.
Harry decided to embrace the role of the 'Chosen One', albeit from behind the scenes, as he did not wish to make himself a target. To defeat the far more powerful Voldemort, he needed an edge; keeping Voldemort unaware of his true fated enemy could provide just that advantage.
As he lay there, listening to Dumbledore's summation, Harry grappled with the implications of the 'Wrong Boy Who Lived' scenario unfolding before him. He recognized the similarities to the fanfiction plots he had once read, yet the reality of the situation was fraught with danger and complexity.
Despite the evidence, such as the runes, Dumbledore seemed to have hastily concluded that Charles was the one who vanquished Voldemort which Harry did not like since that put Charles on every Death Eater's kill list.
Harry suspected that Dumbledore had ulterior motives. Putting Charles on a pedestal, especially when he was potentially the child of prophecy, seemed like a dangerous game. Since for now, Harry could not go against Dumbledore, he resolved to act from the shadows to protect Charles, countering whatever plans Dumbledore might have, while safeguarding Charles and his own secrets.
As the room buzzed with activity, Harry lay quietly, his mind a whirlwind of strategy and determination. He was ready to embark on a path that would require cunning, strength, and secrecy.
In the midst of the chaos and somber investigations, the gentle stirring of Charles in Lily's arms signaled to Harry that it was time to 'awaken.' As he opened his eyes, the room's attention shifted towards the two young boys, the sole survivors of the night's calamity. Lily, her maternal instincts in full force, enveloped her children in a protective embrace.
"Oh, my darlings," she murmured, her voice quivering with a mixture of relief and profound love. "You're both safe, and that's all that matters."
As Harry's gaze drifted to the covered form of his grandmother, the harsh reality of their loss dawned on him with crushing clarity. The wealth of memories and experiences from his past life receded, giving way to the acute pain of a child who had lost his closest companions.
"Grandma?" Harry's voice, frail and laden with hope and despair, cut through the room's heavy air. His eyes, wide and brimming with tears, were locked onto the still figure that had been his source of unconditional love and care.
Lily, sensing the depth of Harry's sorrow, drew him closer, offering the solace of a mother's embrace. "Harry, love, Grandma had gone to a better place. I'm here," she soothed, her voice a tender balm to his aching heart.
Yet, Harry's focus remained unwavering on his grandmother's form, the stark reality of her absence piercing his soul. Tears cascaded down his cheeks, each a poignant tribute to the profound bond he had shared with his grandparents. His sorrow resonated through the room, a poignant reminder of the night's tragic toll.
Lily, her own eyes misting with tears, held Harry in a tight embrace. "I miss Grandma too, sweetheart," she whispered back, her voice heavy with shared loss.
Charles, stirred by the commotion and sensing his brother's anguish, joined in with his own cries. The room, already laden with the gravity of loss, was now filled with the heart-wrenching sounds of the children's grief. The echoes of their sorrow served as a stark reminder of the indelible impact the night's events had on the youngest members of the Potter family. The future, once a beacon of hope and promise, now lay obscured, overshadowed by the dark veil of tragedy that had descended upon them.