FOR THE FIRST SEVERAL DAYS, Charlus couldn't bring himself to stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. He would drift in and out throughout the day and night, only to wake up in a panic each time. Despite the message he was relaying, no one seemed to answer with urgency. Charlus could understand if they didn't understand sign language, but he had said it verbally as well, to the point where his throat felt raw.

He was going to go after Harry.

Voldemort was going to go after his nephew indefinitely. It had been up in the air between Neville Longbottom and Harry because they were born only a day apart and they were the sons of couples that had defied Lord Voldemort three times. However, during his torturous session, it was Bellatrix that loved feeding Charlus bits of information, knowing that he wouldn't be able to relay the message because she had every intention of killing him that night.

Every time she lifted the Cruciatus Curse, Bellatrix would take to grabbing him by the face, to force him to read her lips. She wanted him to know the pain that his family was going to endure and the cruel fate they were going to meet. Her eyes danced with laughter, her lips curled into a grin as she enjoyed every second of him begging for mercy.

But it wasn't mercy for himself, Charlus didn't beg for his life to be spared. Instead, he tried to find any bit of humanity that was left in the woman, asking her to spare the life of a child. Harry was only a year old, a happy toddler who loved to light up the room with his antics. And although James and Lily were young parents, they didn't hold an ounce of regret welcoming Harry into their lives. They loved him dearly, everyone who came in contact with the little one couldn't help themselves.

Charlus had fallen under the effects the first time he had held his nephew. Harry was just a wee thing at the time, tiny fingers and tiny toes to match. He had his mother's eyes as everyone pointed out after a few months, but he definitely took after the Potter genetics, one could tell by the tuft of black hair already managing a mess on the top of his head. In those moments, he could only manage a bittersweet smile, knowing how much his mother and father would have loved to be there to greet their first grandson.

However, Harry quickly changed the mood, babbling something as he looked back and forth between his father and his uncle. Confusion washed over Harry's little face because while James and Charlus weren't identical, they came fairly close, leaving Harry puzzled by what was going on. The only difference he could easily distinguish was the glasses his father wore, while his uncle wore none. Of course, leave it to James at the time to mess with his son as he removed his glasses just to have a bit of fun.

It was only then that Harry whipped his head back and forth as fast as possible, looking between the brothers. He must have whipped himself into further confusion, enough that he started crying, leaving Lily to tap James on the back of the head before taking Harry into her arms.

With the memory in mind, Charlus woke with a dry laugh, feeling the scratchiness of his throat immediately. He definitely needed a glass of water, but more importantly, he needed to talk to someone. Not the Healers of St Mungo's, but he needed to talk to Sirius or Dumbledore, someone who would understand what he was trying to say and actually do something about it.

Thankfully, his laughter had attracted listening ears.

He felt the warmth of a hand against his skin, bringing Charlus to open up his eyes. It was the Healer that had attempted to introduce herself several times before whenever he was awake. He believed her name to be Maeve, but he wasn't entirely sure as her fingerspelling was a bit off.

She stood over him, a faint smile on her face overwhelmed by a look of concern. More than likely, she was probably waiting on him going into a panic mode again. But that had gotten Charlus nowhere, it only managed to make him exhausted and shortly after he would just fall asleep. So rather than throwing everything on her at once, he started with a simple request.

"Water."

Maeve watched as Charlus brought his index finger and thumb together before bringing it slowly up to the side of his face. He looked as though he was grazing his cheek in a downward motion a couple of times and she knew it had to be a sign. Unfortunately, she wasn't sure what he was trying to request at the time. She knew she should have focused more on basic signs rather than just fingerspelling and she was currently internally kicking herself at the time.

However, Charlus seemed to read her confusion as he opened one eye to look directly at her. "Water," he managed to say, " water, please."

Wasting no time, Maeve had her wand in hand, gathering a nice cup of cold water for Charlus and handing it over to him carefully. She could see that he was still quite weak, leaving her to stand up and bring the cup to his lips. As soon as the water hit his tongue, a feverish rush seemed to wash over him as he wanted to just gulp it down. He managed to lift both hands, pushing the bottom of the cup so he could intake as much as possible.

"Easy there," she thought to herself, "you haven't had to use your swallowing reflex in a while, you don't want to-"

Before she could finish, Charlus started coughing, spilling a good majority of the water down his front. With a frown, she removed the cup and used her wand to dry him off before sitting down next to him again.

Charlus placed his head back on his series of pillows before opening his eyes once again. "Thank you," he said quietly, " I feel like I haven't had anything to sip on in years."

She remained quiet for a minute or so, tapping her foot against the floor as she tried to think of how she was going to tell him that it had been indeed a few years since he had taken a sip of anything on his own. Maeve was just thankful that he was awake and currently not panicking or yelling out something like all the other times. He was calm and seemed a bit more at ease. She looked at her hands, trying to figure out what she was going to say to him.

"You can talk to me," he told her, " I can read your lips for the most part."

Relief washed over as she nodded her head to let him know that she heard him. "Mr Potter," she said slowly, only to be stopped right away.

"Don't talk extra slow and don't over-enunciate your words, that actually makes it harder to read. Just talk as you normally would."

A faint blush warmed her cheeks, she had waited so long to talk to Charlus and already she was making a fool out of herself. It also didn't help that she felt slightly uneasy under his stare as she had to keep facing him and talking directly to him so that he could read her lips.

"Mr Potter," she began again, " my name is Maeve Elpis, I'm your Healer here at St Mungo's. Are you currently in any pain?"

He shook his head.

"Do you remember anything-"

"Excuse me...Maeve?" he said her name in a questioning tone that she confirmed with a nod. "With all due respect, there is little time to discuss all of this. We can talk about me later. If I didn't make myself clear before, my family is in danger. Voldemort has plans to go after my nephew as we speak."

She flinched at the name, but more at the idea of the truth needing to surface sooner rather than later.

"Mr Potter, forgive me for a moment, but can you tell me what year it is?"

The way he looked at her, it was clear that he believed she had lost her mind at the moment. His brows furrowed together in confusion, his lips parted, probably questioning if he had read her words correctly.

"It's...it's 1981," he said, "why?"

Maeve came to the conclusion that there was really no easy way of relaying the information to Charlus. Either she was going to tell him or a member of the Ministry would have to do it.

"I'm so sorry, Mr Potter," she said with a shake of her head, unable to meet his eyes, " but it's not 1981. The year is 1987."

Six years. Is that what she was trying to tell him? That six years had passed since Bellatrix Lestrange and the other Death Eaters had invaded his home? No, it couldn't be, Charlus refused to believe such a thing. Because if it were true, it meant that he was too late. Despite not being at his full strength, Charlus was ready to argue that Maeve was wrong or tell her off if she was attempting at a joke. But before he could say anything, she handed him a copy of the Daily Prophet.

It didn't take him very long to have his eyes focus on the date, even though he wished he had closed his eyes beforehand.

6 October 1987

Already he could feel tears welling in his eyes, he didn't want to believe that six years had gone by with him doing absolutely nothing.

"Please," he said in a low whisper, " please tell me that you're lying. Tell me it's all a joke or something. I won't be angry if this is all a joke, just tell me if it is."

When he looked up at the Healer, there wasn't a hint of a smile on Maeve's face, in fact, she looked close to crying as well. He let out a series of curses under his breath, trying so very hard not to cry. But then again, if five years had truly passed, there wasn't time to cry. So much time had gone by without him being in the loop, he needed to know what was going on.

"Have you told my family that I'm awake now then?" he asked her. "Are they coming here?"

Maeve had yet to respond to anything he said, leaving Charlus to lose his patience rather quickly. He needed answers and she wasn't providing them fast enough to his liking.

"Will you answer me?!" she flinched at his loud tone. " Where is my brother? Is he coming here? Is here alright? Is Lily okay? What about Harry? Sirius?! COME ON, TELL ME!"

It was never in Charlus' nature to yell, in fact, he had always been regarded as the softer of the Potter twins. But the longer it took Maeve to respond, he could feel his frustrations building. He didn't like the frown on her face because frowns usually meant that bad news was going to follow. There had been enough bad news delivered to know six years had passed, he didn't want any more bad news, but he had a feeling it was coming.

Anger protected him from feelings that stabbed his heart but it wasn't enough to mask the fear he was suddenly feeling. The tears that had threatened to fall earlier were already streaming down his face.

"Ever since it happened, Mr Potter," Maeve finally spoke, " I tried to come up with so many ways of how I was going to tell you. Each way I put it, never seemed appropriate or right. I prayed for someone to tell me how to say it, but no one answered. I'm so sorry, but your brother James is dead, along with his wife Lily. They died back in 1981, just a couple of weeks after you arrived here. They were attacked by You-Know-"

"NO! NO! NO!"

Charlus' hands clapped over his face, he didn't catch everything Maeve said, but he caught on to enough. Knowing that James was dead, along with Lily, he didn't need to know how they died, it was bad enough just knowing that they were gone and he had no way of saying goodbye to them. He screamed into his hands, never wanting to believe that his first best friend, his twin, his partner in crime, his wombmate, James Potter was gone.

And Lily, sweet Lily, who had been his friend since their time in Hogwarts, she had always been there for him in times of need. She was gone too.

He couldn't stand the idea of it, he couldn't accept it as it being his new reality. To him, it was only yesterday that he was writing a letter to James, telling him that they would be reunited soon. There would be a wedding reception for him and Sirius, and everyone was meant to be there after the war after they won it all.

That's how it was supposed to be.

Maeve couldn't bring herself to say anything else as she sat there and watched Charlus break down. He cried out his brother's name, just as he did when he had first woken up. His arms wrapped around his upper body, hugging himself as he rocked slowly. There was no way he could fight back his tears, they poured onto his shirt and blankets, as he continued to sob.

Several Healers heard the commotion come from his room and entered to see what was going on. However, Maeve told them to give Charlus his privacy, he needed it now more than ever during the grieving process. 

She hated herself for giving him the terrible news, more than likely, he needed to hear it come from a loved one. He needed someone he knew to be there at his side, not some total stranger that didn't know anything he had been through. She didn't know the weight of guilt he was suddenly carrying on his shoulders, knowing that he was too late to protect his family. She didn't know what it felt like to lose a sibling, let alone a twin.

He had worked himself into hysterics and there was nothing Maeve could say that would offer him any comfort or so she believed. She thought it would be best to give him some time alone, as it was all a lot to take in. Pushing herself up, Maeve swallowed the lump in her throat and went to make her way to the door.

"Wait, wait, wait," he cried after her, " please, wait!"

Every time he uttered the word "please" she could hear the desperation drip off his tongue and it broke her heart each time as well. She turned to face him, seeing how red his face had become in such a short period of time.

"Harry," he said, " what about Harry? You said James and Lily...you said they...what about Harry?"

How the hell could she have forgotten the one bit of good news that had risen from such a tragedy? Once again, she wanted to kick herself for being so slow. Making her way back to his bedside, she forced a little smile to her lips as she grabbed one of his hands in hers.

"He lived," she told him, " he survived that night. It was a miracle, everyone said it. He's the one who defeated You-Know-Who."

"But...but he was just a baby?" Charlus replied, his eyes wide in wonder at the thought of his nephew being able to defeat possibly the most powerful dark wizard of their time. "How?"

"I don't know for certain, Mr Potter," Maeve said, " but I do know that he survived. They say all that all the evidence that was left was the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead after it happened."

Charlus fell back on his bed, looking completely exhausted but in awe at the same time. His mind was swimming as his eyes scanned the ceiling above him. It sounded like complete and utter madness, a one-year-old had defeated Lord Voldemort. Something trained Aurors and skilled witches and wizards had failed to do on numerous accounts.

But at the same time, Charlus was willing to believe just about anything as long as it was good news. Harry was alive and that was all that mattered unfortunately since James and Lily had not survived.

"That means he's seven years old now," he said, mostly to himself, "Merlin's beard, this is all just..."

He turned his gaze to Maeve, ready to apologise for taking out all his emotions on her. Of course, he was more than upset with everything he learned in such a short span of time, but it certainly wasn't her fault. In fact, she was offering him more than most would, staying with him and telling him the truth rather than leaving him in the dark. But another thought crossed his mind as Charlus thought about his loved ones suffering so much.

"So Harry's with Sirius now, right?" Charlus asked. " Will they be coming here soon? Has someone told them?"

Suddenly, all colour drained from Maeve's face and her little smile faded. Almost instantly, Charlus sobered up to her reaction, the tears on his face drying as soon as he made eye contact with her.

"Sirius," he repeated, " where's Sirius, don't tell me he-"

"No, he's not dead," Maeve quickly cut him off, " but Harry isn't with him. To be honest, I don't know where Harry ended up, no one does. But he couldn't have gone with Sirius."

"Why not?" There was a cautious tone to his voice. " We were made Harry's godfathers. Should anything have happened to my brother and Lily, Harry would come to us."

"I-I-I don't know anything about that, Mr Potter, the only thing I do know is, it's probably a good thing that Harry didn't go with Sirius. Last time I checked, children don't fair well in Azkaban."

A/N: Oh, Charlus, I hate to do this to you! Anyways, just an FYI, a lot of you asked me about the story that inspired this one, which was called Potterphilia. I decided to republish it as a prequel to this story so you guys can see how Sirius and Charlus fell in love. :)