The door to Dumbledore's office opened and a stream of people walked in. Few of them were arguing with each other and the others were watching and listening with wide eyes. Younger Harry recognized the professors of course, the visiting heads of the foreign schools, British Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, and two witches he did not know.
Older Harry whistled lightly. "Guess they're taking it seriously," he said. "The Minister, Director Bones of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Susan's aunt by the way if you didn't know, and I have an idea who that last person is."
Eventually they all came in and their conversation stopped. Dumbledore closed the door to his office and when he sat at his desk, a flash of light and fire heralded the appearance of his phoenix, Fawkes. Fawkes looked at the Harrys curiously, his head going back and forth a few times. He twitched his tail and he tilted his head when older Harry idly rolled his wand around his fingers. The magical creature gave the older Harry a last considering look before turning to Dumbledore and nodding.
Younger Harry squirmed a little at the scrutiny from all those standing around them, but when he felt his older counterpart pat him comfortingly on the shoulder, he felt a little better.
Conversely, older Harry looked very at ease. He smiled cheerily at a few of the professors and sat back in his chair, but younger Harry noticed that he still held his wand with an easy grip and his eyes never stopped moving.
"So, you're the one pretending to be Harry Potter," Fudge said in a calm and friendly tone that belied his words.
"Nope!" older Harry said brightly.
"You're not?" Fudge looked at the others in confusion.
"I'm not pretending," he said. "I am who I am, and I am Harry James Potter. Just an older and slightly different version of this Harry." He smiled at the last witch who came in with Fudge and Amelia. She wore long grey robes and had a slightly eerie feeling about her. "That's why you brought the Senior Unspeakable, right? To verify via blood identification?"
Amelia, Fudge, and Dumbledore looked at each other and the Senior Unspeakable looked at older Harry with intense curiosity. "You know who I am?" she asked pleasantly.
"Had a feeling," older Harry said. "Recognized the robes at least. I'll give you a blood sample to test, but I'm destroying it right after. You understand of course."
Unperturbed, she nodded. "Of course."
Older Harry rolled his sleeve up and offered his arm to Poppy Pomfrey, the Matron and Healer of Hogwarts. She took a sample with a tiny silver syringe and then healed his arm. She then stepped to one side and leaned over the sample with the Unspeakable, whispering together.
"Mister…Potter," Amelia said slowly, "would you consent to taking some Veritaserum?"
"Sure, but it wouldn't really apply here, now would it?" older Harry said. "By the way, it's great seeing you again."
"You think you telling the truth would not apply?" Fudge asked, looking down heatedly at Harry while Amelia looked very confused.
"Well no, telling the truth always applies. But everyone who regularly uses it knows that it forces the imbiber to tell the truth, as far as they know. For example, if someone was raised being taught one thing was the truth and not knowing any alternative, they would report said thing as the truth and they would not be lying, even though they are wrong." He smiled at the adults around them who were looking at each other or staring at him.
"But to rest your worries, I solemnly swear on the Goblet of Fire and Hogwarts that I am Harry James Potter, that I will be telling the truth as I know it to be." Older Harry said the words seriously and a flicker of magic filled the air, making the atmosphere warm slightly before disappearing.
"That will do," Dumbledore said, looking at him seriously.
"So you swear to tell us everything?" Fudge asked.
"Didn't say that, but will tell you everything I choose to," older Harry replied, "and it will be the truth." He looked at Dumbledore, ignoring Fudge's look of displeasure. "First, though, could I get something to eat? Something simple. It's been a while since I've had any real food. Plus it's only proper."
"Of course, my apologies," Dumbledore said. He turned thoughtful. "Dobby?"
A loud crack filled the air and a House Elf appeared. He was dressed strangely: two mismatched socks on his feet, a pair of running shorts, a shrunken formal button up shirt, and a sleeping cap with a long tassel. "Yes Headmaster?" he asked eagerly.
"Mister Potter would like something to eat," Dumbledore said.
"Of course! Dobby would love to help Master…Harry…" Dobby turned and his smile turned into shock and confusion as he stared at the two Harrys. "Master…Harrys? There are two?"
"Dobby?" younger Harry said, sounding equally shocked but it was older Harry's response that shocked him even more.
"Dobby!" older Harry exclaimed, looking genuinely happy. "You're here! That's right, of course you are. How are you doing?!"
Even Dobby seemed to be taken aback by the sincere excitement, but it swiftly passed and the elf beamed back at Harry. "Dobby is doing well, thank you!" He narrowed his eyes a little. "You…you are Master Harry, but you are different. Not the same as this Harry. Magic is so similar though." The adults looked at each other at that announcement, including the Senior Unspeakable.
Dobby shook his head. "No matter, Dobby always happy to help Master Harry. What would Master Harry like?"
"I'd love some sandwiches," older Harry said eagerly. "As many as you like, even something simple like one thing between bread. I'm famished and would love to eat Hogwarts food again."
"Of course! Something to drink?"
"Butterbeer please, thank you." Older Harry sighed happily when Dobby disapparated. "I really missed that guy," he said fondly.
"We have confirmation," Pomfrey said, announcing the results to the room. "He is indeed Harry James Potter." She then destroyed the sample of blood in front of them all, making the older Harry nod with thanks.
"How is that possible?" McGonagall said. "How can there be two?"
"I'm from a different dimension or reality or whatever is the official term for it," older Harry said. "Because where I come from is also a when, as in, it's years further. Last I remember I was 23 or so and does the test show how old I am now?"
"17," the Unspeakable said, "or so."
"Oh that's handy," older Harry said. "Also explains why my memories are a touch jumbled."
"You expect us to believe that you come from a different time and place?" Karkaroff scoffed.
"I don't expect you to do anything," older Harry said coldly, giving the older man a positively hostile look that took all the others back. He turned back and smiled at the Unspeakable, a rapid shift in facial expression. "But you also came to verify that too, right? Actually, may I know your name? It's a bit awkward calling you Senior Unspeakable all the time."
She smiled back. "Saltina Croatia, at your service."
"Thank you! But yes, you can verify that, right?"
She hesitated for a moment before nodding again. "It is…known that certain magical items and things have appeared in this plane of existence with magic that is slightly different from the other magic originating from here. There is a way to ascertain that."
"There are?" Flitwick gasped. "There is?"
Saltina nodded. "Yes. It is something we regularly research in the Department of Mysteries." Her eyes glittered as she looked at older Harry. "It has been sometime since we have seen a new one, however, and a person with another same person at the same time."
"Wait, if you're from the future, then you know what is going to happen," Amelia said, looking at Harry with an intense expression. "That's how you knew Moody was being impersonated by Crouch Jr."
"Yup and hey, did you find the real Moody?" older Harry asked.
"We did. We also went to the Crouch home and found traces of other people there that have left rapidly, as well as the Crouch house elf." She blinked when older Harry's head shot up and his eyes hardened.
"Fuck, I didn't think of that," he whispered to himself. "Well, I don't know where that is so guess I can't be too pissed about it."
"So you can tell us what is to come," Dumbledore said, looking over steepled fingers at older Harry.
"I can try to, my memories are a bit jumbled. I guess coming from a different plane of existence and being de-aged a bit does that to a person," older Harry said lightly. "Some things I definitely remember though."
"Like what?" Fudge asked suspiciously.
Before older Harry could speak, Dobby reappeared. A large tray covered with a cloche hovered beside him alongside a large pitcher of butterbeer. He conjured a small table and put it in front of older Harry, complete with tablecloth and napkins and silverware. He then set everything down and revealed a small mountain of sandwiches.
"Bless you," older Harry said, eyes bright and smile wide. "And keep it coming, I'm really hungry."
"Of course! Would you, Master Harry, like something?" Dobby asked, turning to the younger Harry.
"Uh, no thank you," younger Harry said, shaking his head. He watched as Dobby left and his older version took a big bite of his first sandwich.
"Oh, I've forgotten how good Hogwarts food is," older Harry groaned with deep satisfaction, eating hungrily. In a short time, two sandwiches were demolished without a crumb remaining and he showed no sign of stopping. "You sure you don't want one? They're fantastic."
"Like what?" Fudge repeated, growing angry at being ignored for sandwiches.
Older Harry paused and gave the older man a cool look before he continued to eat with slightly less alacrity. "A few things. How my last years of school ended. How the Second War went." Gasps accompanied that announcement but he ignored them. "Tom Riddle returning. That sort of thing."
Dumbledore's eyes widened and he looked at older Harry with alarm though the name seemed to go past the others' unheeded save for McGonagall and Pomfrey and Sprout who looked at each other.
"Who's that?" Amelia asked.
"Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort," older Harry said, continuing to eat. He looked on with amusement as the majority of the adults flinched at the name. "Wow, you all still react like that? Oh right, makes sense right now."
"You-Know-Who is dead," Fudge said angrily.
"No he isn't," older Harry said, munching on his next sandwich. "I can prove it too. At least, two maybe three-no two, two ways in here alone," he said. "He's not dead. Not completely. Mostly, sure, but not all dead."
He drained his cup of butterbeer before refilling it. "And this year, he comes back by getting a full body back. He then builds power and goes into a guerilla war before declaring open war on Wizarding Britain. And things go to hell, literally."
"What do you mean by that?" Dumbledore interjected, looking at older Harry intensely.
He returned the look for a moment before he bit into another sandwich. "I mean things went to hell. A lot of people died. First people against him, then people with him. The Muggles began to notice. It's hard to ignore the Ministry of Magic burning in the middle of London after all. The ICW basically cordoned us off, saying they couldn't interfere in a civil war and was basically waiting for the ashes to settle before coming in to fix the mess. A few survivors were allowed to leave the country."
The sound of chewing filled the air as the others stared in horrified silence.
"How, how did things end?" Flitwick asked.
Older Harry swallowed his mouthful of food. "Well, it came down to him and me. I managed to trick him into using the Goblet, my Goblet or my plane's Goblet anyways, for something. We fought at my plane's Hogwarts, I managed to kill the bastard for good. I then followed the light, which was a surprise because the light led me here and here I am, on another plane with another Harry and all you people here, a few years back from what I last remembered, and enjoying this lovely meal."
"A lot of people died?" younger Harry repeated numbly.
Older Harry nodded sadly. "Yeah. It was bad. That's why I said I want to do what I want to do here and make sure it doesn't happen that way again."
"That is a lie!" Fudge shouted. "You-Know-Who is dead!" He flinched when older Harry glared at him.
"That isn't a lie," he said coolly. He clenched his right hand tight, bringing scars into prominence. "I don't tell lies, Minister. Something one of your little friends taught me."
"Those scars," Pomfrey gasped, looking at them. "They looked carved."
"They were in a way, blood quill," older Harry said, returning to his food.
"Those are incredibly illegal for most things, especially something like that," Amelia said darkly. She gave Fudge a look who sputtered.
"I don't know who would use those!" he blustered.
"Is there a Delores Umbridge here?" older Harry asked. His countenance darkened when Amelia and Saltina nodded with Fudge doing so reluctantly. "I better not see her or else I'm killing her when I do. She did this to me. And would do it to Harry next year. Because she also wanted for people not to believe me about Riddle coming back."
"She would never," Fudge said weakly. He colored at older Harry's deep snort. "Where is your proof?!" He flushed deeper when older Harry revealed the scars on his hand once more, coupled with a two-finger salute. "About You-Know-Who!"
"Get him to lift his sleeve," Harry said, hiking a thumb at Karkaroff. "Oh, was that supposed to be a secret? That you used to be part of a terrorist organization dedicated to Voldemort?" he asked innocently when Karkaroff turned red from fear and fury.
"I will not! I have my rights!" Karkaroff shouted.
"You do, and you're currently in Britain during an active investigation so either lift your sleeve willingly or I will contact the embassy and get them to force you to," Amelia said, not quite drawing her wand but holding it ready.
Cornered, Karkaroff unwillingly lifted his sleeve. "See, nothing!" he crowed, showing his unmarked forearm.
"The other one," older Harry said, slightly amused.
Even more slowly, the man did so and looked back defiantly as people gasped at the hazy tattoo on his arm. Though slightly faded, it was a very recognizable skull and snake motif that was equal parts distorted and clear.
"If Riddle was completely dead, they wouldn't have that," older Harry said as he continued to eat. "So there's proof."
"That was my past and I have atoned for it," Karkaroff snarled.
Older Harry laughed coldly. "No you didn't. You gave up information about your buddies to avoid harsher punishment. That's not the same as atonement. Though honestly, I don't blame you for being scared. When they caught up to you, boy, you had a really bad death."
"Are you threatening me?!" Karkaroff shouted.
"No, if I was threatening you, I'd say something like if you piss me off more, I'm going to kill you badly," older Harry sneered back, stopping the older man cold. "But I didn't say that, aside from just now. What I said was that you had a really bad death. Because of the people you gave up information on to save your own skin. So I don't blame you for being cowardly."
"Death is death," Maxime said, speaking for the first time. She looked at Harry curiously.
"Sure," older Harry agreed. "Even the Headmaster would say that. But there are good ways to meet your end, and bad ways to force you to die and there are some really bad ones." He gave a suddenly very nervous Karkaroff an almost pitying look. "And yours was really bad."
"Is this how you think you can convince us?" Fudge asked, looking down at older Harry. "Throw us some dire predictions like some two-bit so-called Seer? Make allusions and say things ominously? I might believe that you think you are from the future, but you have provided no concrete proof save that we had an escaped criminal perpetuating more crimes. Once does not mean anything!"
He pointed at older Harry. "Nothing you say would convince me of this farce."
Older Harry met his gaze for a long moment before shrugging. "Okay," he said cheerily and went back to eating with gusto. The others, including younger Harry, stared at him as he ate.
"You're not even going to try?" Fudge asked, wrongfooted.
"You said nothing I could say would convince you," older Harry said with a shrug. "So why waste your time and more importantly, my time? I can still do what I want without you, I don't exactly need to convince you.
"You sure you don't want one?" he asked his younger version. "These are really good. There's bacon, ham, egg, tuna mayo, cucumber, and jam."
"I'm fine," younger Harry said. He stared at his older counterpart and was even more confused when older Harry winked at him.
Fudge got up and started to leave before stopping. After a moment he walked back and stood in front of older Harry. "What do you have to say?"
"About what?" older Harry chewed.
"To convince me," Fudge said through gritted teeth.
"You just said I couldn't," older Harry demurred.
"Try," Fudge growled.
Older Harry continued to chew for a long moment. "You have a really nice home, by the way." He picked up another sandwich, ignoring Fudge's confusion. "It's really nice, I mean it. Out in the countryside, nice and secluded. Lovely little creek running through the property."
"That is my private family home," Fudge said, eyes wide.
"You have that nice statue out front," older Harry continued. "Carved from marble, and not just from magic but with chisel and magic, from a sculptor from Greece. It's your Great-Grandfather, Corellius, right? You were named after him. You actually knew him too, in person. Really looked up to him."
Fudge stared down at older Harry, unspeaking while the others looked on with baited breath.
"He sounded like a good bloke," older Harry continued. "His personal motto is etched into the base. 'What is life without family?' Sounded like a great guy. Really didn't care about having squibs in the family or anything like that. Said the family blood is the same, with or without magic."
He drained his glass again, clearing his throat. "Really standup guy. And you did listen to him, after a time. You have a nephew, I assume still a nephew in this plane. You were close with him because you loved your brother and when he passed, you swore to watch over him."
Fudge ignored the looks from the others, his eyes boring into older Harry's form.
"That is, until your opponents tried to use him against you a while back," older Harry continued. "You couldn't bear to see anything bad happen to him so you had him secreted away with a good family somewhere, to protect him, not you. You wanted him to have a good and safe life. And I believe you really mean that."
Their eyes met as older Harry continued to speak. "It worked, for a while. Until one of your opponents joined the newly formed Death Eaters. They remembered him and found him and captured you and your wife and took you there. They bound him to the statue and started to torture him. Trying to make you break, make you give up the Ministry and support them and Voldemort."
He put his sandwich down and wiped his hands clean. "Of course, he had his memory modified a bit when he was put into hiding, your nephew. You two communicated every so often secretly, you still loved him after all, but it was more a distant friend of a friend relationship. But that didn't stop the Death Eaters. They tortured him for days, forcing you and your wife to watch. At first, he kept asking 'why are you doing this to me?' to the Eaters. Then when they broke through the charms, it became 'why aren't you helping me?' to you." His voice fell into a whisper. "His last word before he died was just, 'why'."
The room was completely silent. Everyone watched on with horror in their eyes, guts clenching, hearts pounding.
"Your poor kind-hearted wife was already half-dead from the stress and fear," he continued. "They told her she would be next. You couldn't let them do that to her and you managed to kill her before they could start, one last act of mercy. Which of course, pissed the Eaters off and they were especially cruel to you." He looked up at Fudge. "You lasted a few days and we finally managed to get there before you died. We killed them and tried to save you but you couldn't be, didn't want to be. But you didn't break, you didn't give them anything."
He sighed wearily, looking older than his 17, or even 25 years. "You died well in the end, but it wasn't a good death either."
Fudge's face was pale and he watched in utter silence as older Harry started to eat and drink again, mechanically instead of enthusiastically as he did moments ago. "Only family know of that place and the statue," he said woodenly. "Only family know of him."
"You confessed to a lot before you died," older Harry said simply. "A last attempt to…atone."
Fudge looked out of the window sightlessly, staring into nothing and everything. He held up a hand when Amelia looked like she was about to speak, cutting her off. Finally he turned back to older Harry. "I don't want to believe you," he said at last.
"Don't blame you," older Harry replied evenly.
"I can't take the risk not to," Fudge said. He looked at Harry with a flat expression. "You swear, what you told me was the truth?"
"I solemnly swear," older Harry said. "Every terrible word of it."
Fudge closed his eyes and then opened them, nodding. "What are you going to do?"
"A few things," older Harry said immediately. "Give me one year. One year to try and fix things my way. You help me, I tell you everything I can remember about stuff that happened around this time. I'll even let Director Croaker poke at me a little to satisfy some of her questions."
He looked apologetically at a surprised Saltina. "Sorry, was that a secret?"
"Not an official one," she said, looking strangely amused. "And I would be grateful for the opportunity to learn more about your presence here."
"And if the year elapses and things are not handled?" Fudge asked.
"Then we try to work together to ensure things get handled," Harry said.
"Fine, I accept," Fudge said.
"First, did you do a mind dive on the Crouches?" Harry asked, looking at Amelia.
"I did," Saltina said, ignoring the looks from Amelia and Fudge.
"And what did you see?" older Harry asked.
"A wizard known as Peter Pettigrew holding a frankly hideous and terrifying looking baby identifying itself as Voldemort," she said, eliciting more gasps and cries of astonishment. "They free Bartemius Junior, put Senior under the Imperius, and assault Moody and allow Junior to impersonate him."
"You saw that and you claim there was no proof?!" McGonagall cried, glaring at Fudge.
"Do you know how many people claim to be others?!" Fudge said indignantly. "How many claim to be powerful and Dark Magicals?"
"He's not wrong, people do that," Amelia said sourly, giving Fudge an even more sour look.
"Any idea where they went?" older Harry asked hungrily.
"Not at the moment," Amelia said regretfully. "I started an investigation however."
"Damn," older Harry huffed. "But that leads me to my next point. You see Pettigrew now. Which you knew of last year but chose to ignore it," he said, looking at Fudge who flushed and glowered back while Dumbledore sighed. "Since he's alive, and not just someone claiming to be him because who would, that means Sirius Black couldn't have killed him, now could he?"
"It doesn't seem like it," Fudge hissed.
"Call off the hunt. Get him his trial. And when he is found innocent, he needs to be allowed all his rights and responsibilities back," older Harry said. "Including, being Harry's godfather." He snapped his fingers and made a gesture over one shoulder. After he did, both Karkaroff and Maxime looked deeply confused, staring at him oddly. He turned to stare at Dumbledore. "He is not going back to the Dursleys. Ever." As Dumbledore opened his mouth he interrupted. "Fuck the wards and blood protections. Petunia never loved me, him, us, and Sirius would, and will, do a much better job at protecting him and I swear that if you try to send him back, I'll go to Number 4 Privet Drive and burn it to the ground before I let him go back to it."
Blue eyes met green and the two stared at each other for a long moment.
"Blood protections?" younger Harry asked, looking between the two.
"The reason we went back to that hellhole every year. When mother…our mother died for us, the protections had to be renewed by staying with a blood relative," older Harry said angrily.
"You see their importance, now more than ever," Dumbledore said. "With the irrefutable proof you bring."
"Well, if it's blood relative, you and me, we have to count, right?" younger Harry said.
"Hey, you're right!" Older Harry smiled and high-fived Harry after prompting him to hold up his hand. "We share the same blood but it's different enough. It'll work that way."
Dumbledore looked at the Harrys before nodding. "When Sirius is absolved of everything and can have a stable home, we will ensure its safety together and you will go there instead," he conceded.
Older Harry smiled and snapped his fingers again.
"What was that?" Maxime asked, staring at him.
"Privacy charm, you didn't need to hear that part," older Harry said simply. "Which now brings us to the last thing. I'm competing in the Tournament. And I'm going to do it legitimately. I always thought I could make a good show of it if I was the same age and skill set as the others."
"You had to compete in it?" younger Harry asked.
Older Harry nodded. "And it sucked. Barely got through it and there was a lot of luck and a lot of behind the scenes stuff."
"Giving Hogwarts two chances to win?" Karkaroff blustered.
"No, I'm not exactly a Hogwarts student, am I?" older Harry said scornfully. "I'm more of an alumnus but that's beside the point. Make up something, even call me the Goblet's Champion of Fire, hey wait that actually sounds cool, but yeah let's do that or whatever. Point is, I'm doing it, not this Harry."
He turned to look at everyone else in the room and his countenance became stone-carved. His eyes hardened and his magic pulsated off of him. "Let's make something extremely clear. Nothing is to happen to Harry. I'm here to make things right and that includes giving him the life he deserves. Anybody wants to try me, even as a joke, and I will ruin you completely and utterly. I do not care who you are or what you meant to do."
"We understand," Dumbledore said calmly though his eyes were fixed on older Harry.
"Good." He sat back down and began to eat once more with genuine enthusiasm, ignoring the others. Karkaroff was the first to leave, muttering in a different language angrily with Maxime following close behind. Fudge nodded at Amelia and after giving Harry one last complicated look, left too.
"I will make a guest room for you here at the castle," Dumbledore said. "For all intents and purposes, you are a Champion of Hogwarts and will be given room and board here."
"Thank you," older Harry said.
"What shall we call you?" Saltina asked, tilting her head a little. "Older Harry and Younger Harry is rather cumbersome."
"Oh huh, didn't think about that until now." Older Harry looked down at his younger counterpart. "Well, I'm older than you but this is your home plane, so you should keep being Harry. What to call me though."
"How about James?" McGonagall asked gently.
Older Harry turned thoughtful before shaking his head. "No, Dad is James, or was. Doesn't feel right." He let out a breath. "Something grand, something majestic. Oh I know, Hadrian. That sounds good, right?"
"No it doesn't," younger Harry blurted out.
Older Harry laughed loudly and a few others joined in at the sound and energy of it. "Yeah you're right, just having a laugh." He chewed thoughtfully. "Evan. How about Evan?"
"I like that," Harry said softly, understanding.
Evan smiled back. "I'll be Evan then. Evan James Potter."
"You can still keep Harry in there," Harry said with a small smile.
"Thanks," Evan said gratefully.
"I'll go to the Ministry and make some papers for you then as Evan," Amelia said. "And call off the hunt on Sirius. I'll get his trial paperwork started." As she was starting to leave, she stopped and looked at Evan. "When you said it was good to see me again, that means you stopped seeing me in your plane?"
Evan nodded sadly. "Sure does."
Amelia looked at him for a moment longer before she nodded and left. The other professors and adults left too, all looking at Evan before they did. Eventually it was just Harry, Evan, and Fawkes alone in the office.
"You weren't kidding," Harry said.
"And I didn't even share everything I remembered," Evan said.
"Will you tell me everything?"
Evan hesitated. "As much as I can. You seriously don't want to know what I do. Especially if it won't happen here."
Harry nodded. "So…what are we, technically?"
"I'd say cousins but we both have some problems with that word I think," Evan said wryly.
"A bit," Harry said in the same tone with the same expression. "I always wanted a big brother," he said shyly.
Evan looked at him with a sad expression before it warmed. "Me too. But a little brother is just as good."
Harry felt much better and a lot happier at that moment, as did Evan.
Evan looked at the empty platter on the table with another sigh. "I could go for some more." He brightened when a new platter appeared with even more sandwiches on top. "Dobby, I love you. I hear-by proclaim you as the Saint of Sandwiches and Socks and I'm going to get you so many socks." He dug into the pile without reservation.
"You sure you don't want any?" Evan asked Harry after giving a ham sandwich to Fawkes who ate it happily.
"You know what, sure," Harry smiled and reached out and took a bacon one.