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1_who_lived (1_who_lived) wrote in timerift_log,

Living in Cardiff had been interesting. That was how Harry was thinking about it, anyway. Day-to-day life was almost normal. He reported into his office at the local Ministry building, went over reports, talked to Ron, and tried to figure out what the Ministry was thinking about all of this. The Unspeakables aware pretty unbearable. They only shared what they needed to share, so it was incredibly frustrating.

By the time Harry had gotten home, he had collapsed into bed and hadn't even noticed his new roommate. It wasn't really his place to check in on those things- there were officials who registered the newcomers and assigned them. Of course, the bastards would mess with him like this. Just like they did with his 'son'. But it wasn't until he stepped into the kitchen, groggy and ready for his tea. His hair was a mess, and he was surprised to hear the kettle going off before he'd started it. Ron wasn't usually up this early.

But this wasn't Ron. No. The man who stood there was someone Harry immediately recognized from the photographs in his room back home in London. Photographs he cherished dearly- the rare keepsakes of his parents.

"....Dad?" It came out without him thinking twice, the shock on his face was probably pretty readable. Harry stood there, staring at the man, and realizing that this was, indeed, James Potter.