It had been a long day and it was about to get longer. Harry and Remus Lupin were at Gringotts sifting through the Potter family vault to make room for Harry’s trust fund and other expenses that would soon follow.
It had taken him only fifteen minutes to go through the paperwork, but they were still in the vault after an hour of organizing only a small fraction of his parents’ furniture and personal effects.
“There is just too much stuff in here, Remus. How am I going to get through all of this?”
Remus turned to him, wiping his forehead with the sleeve of his robe. “I don’t know. Maybe we should devote a few more days to this. That might help.”
“Do you want to do this? You know more of what is in here than I do. Besides, if I’m going to rebuild Potter Manor when this blasted war ends, I’ll need some help furnishing the house. I don’t know what needs to go in it.”
“I don’t think I’m one to do this…”
“Please? I need all the help I can get,” Harry asked, pleadingly. Remus looked at him before chuckling a bit.
“All right, Harry. You look just like your father when he wanted Lily to help him with his schoolwork.”
Harry smiled at the nostalgic comment as Remus headed for the door of the vault.
“I’m stepping out for a moment. Do you need anything?”
“No thanks, I’m okay.”
Harry had backed himself into the far corner of the vault and was sitting surrounded by his parents’ possessions and did not want to fight the stacks of boxes and trunks to get out. There was one problem, though; he needed desperately to stretch out his legs for a while before continuing his job of sorting.
Slowly, and using the wall for support, he raised himself off the ground – only to slip on a book and slam into the wall before sliding back down with a heavy thud. Swearing briefly, he reached for the offending object and was about to throw it across the room when a glint of gold caught his eye. He brought the object closer to discover that the glint was gold foil lettering.
J. Harrison Potter
Harry was about to open the book when Remus appeared in the doorway looking for him. He quickly placed the book in the inside pocket of his robes before getting up successfully and walking toward his friend.
“We need to go. We’re late for your birthday party.”
Harry nodded and followed Remus out and locked the vault door behind him.
It was a long party, a wonderful one and a much-deserved one, too; however, it was still a very long party. It left him exhausted to the point where he was about to fall asleep in his slice of cake. He didn’t dare to because he suspected the twins to think it would be hysterical if they moved Harry’s piece closer to his face just to see if he’d actually do it. Ginny had stopped them with a look and had Remus help Harry up to bed.
He was too exhausted to stop them from taking him upstairs and into his room. Mr and Mrs Weasley had given him his own room this year due to some unfortunate recent events. The war had left Hermione and her parents homeless and the Grangers were staying in Grimmauld Place with Remus to keep them safe while the Weasleys were still at the Burrow. On top of that, many of the Aurors who were helping the Order had been killed by Death Eaters in recent months.
Remus settled Harry onto his bed while Ginny found some pajamas in Harry’s trunk. Harry smiled at the thought and got up to stop her. He thanked her for the gesture and told her that he was fine and walked her out of the room, hugging her before shutting the door.
It was such a hot July night that Harry decided to only wear pajama bottoms and to not sleep under the blankets. Just as his body hit the bed, his thoughts drifted to the book in his robes.
Who was J. Harrison Potter?
Sighing, he rolled off the bed in the darkness and retrieved the book. Shaking his head to get rid of some of the sleepiness, he sat back down and illuminated his wand so he could see.
The book he held was a small, black leather-bound one with his ancestor’s name imprinted on it in the bottom right corner. It reminded him of Tom Riddle’s diary, the one that had possessed Ginny. Shuddering, he continued to look at the book. It seemed harmless to him, and it looked far too worn out to be important. He waved his wand over the cover murmuring, ‘Specialis Revelio’ before he opened it. Nothing happened.
No charms? Wonder why…
He opened the book and found there was writing already in it. He flipped the pages to discover that indeed there were no charms placed to conceal the writing as there had been in Riddle’s diary. He turned back to the front to the first page. The first entry talked about a school he did not know about and what was happening that day. Later, the entries began to expound on joining some small war effort that Harry didn’t know about. The later ones were not much to look at.
25 August 1938
This day marks the tenth week of the same. I woke up and ran 10 miles before breakfast. After that was some more target practice that was continued from the day before followed by lunch. Then I had to attend some lectures and briefings before dinner. Now I only have a few more minutes before lights out and I need to write my family.
Harry rolled his eyes at the monotony of the entries. He thought that a journal would have more personality of the writer such as the opinions he held about his life in this skirmish and maybe a few light rants about his superiors.
He glanced through the entries quickly since they consisted of the same thing for each day. Then he came to some entries for the next year which were longer. Curious, he looked at one entry that caught his eye.
11 September 1939
This upcoming war is starting to make waves across the country and even across the oceans. It’s not been half a year and already I am involved in another fight for power. I shouldn’t complain though seeing that Jeremiah left for a war of another kind. This time, I can’t go out and protect him like I used to. I may be a Squib, but I still want to help and protect him like any other older brother. I never wrote about what happened the day Jeremiah left.
I might as well since I don’t know when I’ll see him again. It must be two weeks since he announced that he would be fighting against Grindelwald. He just finished his sixth year at Hogwarts and already he wants to fight. He said he wanted to make a difference and even brought out the fact that I was fighting with Muggles in their wars. I thought it a childish answer at first, but now I’m not so sure.
Father was not pleased initially with Jeremiah’s insistence, but I saw that he needed to relent and let his younger son grow up. He knows that wars can make anyone grow up faster than they intended, just look at me. I’m only three years older than Jeremiah, but I feel as though I aged ten more years while fighting. He’s only seventeen years old. I hope…I know my brother will be fine. He’s a Potter and that alone will help him. I just hope the stubborn part of him would not overrule his heart. I never really knew why he wanted to join the fight, maybe one day, if we live that long, I’ll ask him.
In other news, I received word that I was promoted from Liaison Officer to Lieutenant, though this information is offhandedly received from another one of my mates who heard it as a rumor. I need to head back to base to confirm this and to start gearing up for this new threat…
Harry reread the entry just to make sure he understood it. He assumed that this Jeremiah Potter helped in the fight against Grindelwald with Dumbledore. He flipped back some pages to see if Jeremiah was mentioned any more, but didn’t see very much information. There were only entries that referred to him as someone to write to.
After that entry, he decided to try and read the journal a bit more, only to discover that the entries were once again monotonous. Bored with these new passages, he turned a few pages before stopping at an entry marked “6 June 1944”. He remembered that date was known as D-Day in Muggle history and started to read.
6 June 1944
Today is the day we are to land in Normandy. The lads are worried about what will happen when we get there, but this is war so there is bound to be trouble ahead. These lads do not know war. I’ve seen some of it at home, in front of their own noses even. Those Muggles do not know what a war can be like. Jeremiah’s been fighting in it for about five years now and I’m amazed he’s still alive. He’s had some close calls lately, but he’s optimistic that it will end soon. He stated that Albus Dumbledore, a professor of his at Hogwarts, is figuring out a way to end the war before the end of next year. That Great War of Grindelwald will be one they’ll talk about for ages after it’s over. That is what a war is.
If I were not a Squib, I would be fighting Grindelwald as well. At least here I can try and make my parents proud by fighting in this one. I’ve been an LO for some time now and now a Lieutenant. I remember the day I left again after my temporary leave; my mother hugged me to her with glistening eyes while my father remained stoic as he shook my hand. Stoicism must be a Potter family trait. I know that I must have done the same thing when Jeremiah said he would be fighting against Grindelwald with his friends.
There’s been much conversing between the Allies about this particular war, based on what I could glean from the Generals without breaching security. They already consider this the worst war of the century, so they say. I know of wizard wars and how to get from place to place, but this Muggle boat is not a good idea. There are about forty of us that I can see around here…
J. Harrison sat in one corner of the landing craft attempting to write in his journal while waiting to reach Normandy. The rough seas made this nearly impossible but he was determined to put his tangled thoughts down on paper before he became too seasick to write. His company was to join the other Ally battalions in invading Normandy to get the Germans. Get them, he thought, right and we’ll shock the hell out of them when we arrive in these cumbersome boats. He had scoffed the idea, but was silent while being briefed. Now he was sitting, waiting until the boat opened along with the rest of his comrades.
Sometimes his thoughts would go to his family, especially his brot