It was a dream, Albus decided, a weird, freaky dream brought on by pre-birthday panic. He'd wake up at his flat and Jamie would drag him to the party and life would be normal again.
What wasn't happening was a man who looked a Hell of a lot like his father appearing with a bloody house elf out of nowhere. A man who had the eyes and the scar and the face but looked the same age as Jamie and it was absolutely the weirdest dream he'd ever had, thank you very much. He'd like to wake up now, because this was absurd. Maybe even a Weasley party would be better than this...
"I think maybe you should talk first," he said, his wand moving from Teddy to this Imposter Harry. "Whatever you're trying to accomplish it won't work, we already don't buy it."
They were definitely late now. Father would have already sent his patronus, and the fact that it hadn't arrived yet meant they were blocking it somehow. But there were protocols in place. Late and non-responsive to messages? Expect a dozen Aurors banging down your door. Well, maybe not a dozen, but still. Al had learned not to sleep in once he'd found his own flat. It was only a matter of time before their real father found them.