If I Could Turn Back Time

Avocados. Thaor had been farming avocados. If he hadn't been doing the work himself, he would never have believed it. How far have you fallen Thaor asked himself as he walked the all too familiar path to Michael's house. One would think after 3 long years something would change in a village like Hogsmeade, but it appeared to be the same as before. The only difference between the last time he had seen the village and now, was the lack of fire and destruction. Everyone seemed to have rebuilt their shops and homes. He was glad.

Thaor slowed his pace as he approached Michael's house, he hadn't let Michael know he was coming, nor really talked to any of his old friends since he left the country. He did feel guilty for this, but he was unsure how to confront his part in the events that unfolded and altered his dear friends lives so much. After spending 3 years alone, he decided to reach out.

Part of the decision stemming from the notion that he was going crazy alone, the other part because he was sure if he had to harvest another avocado he'd go full on crazy and go on a killing spree.

When he reached the walkway to Michael's house, he came to a stop, and just watched the house for a while. He had some very good memories here, but also very, very bad ones. It seems as though, life went on without him. His friends all had lives to live, and he couldn't blame them for not looking for them. He had made his own bed so to say.

After what seemed like an eternity, Thaor decided tonight was not the night. It appeared as though everyone was asleep, or no one was home. With one last look over his shoulder, Thaor turned on the spot, and headed to the front of Honeydukes.

Michael was a free man tonight--well, relatively, anyway. The boys were spending the night with "Auntie Kate and Uncle Robert" and the rest of the Lupins, although he did wonder about the sanity of anyone who seriously wanted to have ten children under age seven under the same roof. How anyone managed it, was beyond Michael, but they did seem to do it. Then again, the entire idea of being a single parent to identical twin boys was not something Michael had ever dreamed about for himself--not once.

Without the boys, Michael had made his way to Honeydukes and had had a word with Jonathan Belby about making a very adult dark chocolate bourbon pecan fudge, and they'd decided to discuss the matter over a friendly pint just because they could. Michael had enjoyed the conversation and the laughter with some of his neighbors at the Three Broomsticks. He had paid for a second round, and now he was heading home with a box of fudge that Jonathan's wife, Claire, had given him to try. It was a new recipe, and since Michael could never get enough fudge, she had pressed his fudge tasting skills into service. The fudge was still warm and smelled amazing. Claire had tucked in bits of candied orange peel and salted hazelnut. Now his thoughts were to go home, light a fire in the fireplace and sit back in the blissful quiet with a good book. He stepped out of the candy shop and headed towards home when he came face to face with about the last person he expected to find in Hogsmeade tonight.

"Thaor?" he asked. "This is a surprise. What brings you back here?"

One of the last he'd seen Thaor had not been the best of circumstances, and times had changed a tad. Michael was married and divorced, a parent, and he was working in the Ministry in the Department of Mysteries helping to train new intelligence agents--among other tasks--specifically, extraction of agents who got in over their heads and recovery of stolen Ministry artifacts. Espionage at his age--what a laugh. And that had probably seemed to some, he was sure, like hiring the fox to guard the henhouse, but in this case the proverbial henhouse did not seem like it was suffering from it. Leave it to Robert to come up with some cockamamy idea that made some sort of twisted sense. Odd as that all was, finding Thaor in Hogsmeade again at this time of night seemed odder still.

Thaor had been staring off in the direction of Hogwarts when he nearly ran straight into Michael. He could tell he had surprised his old friend. It had been nearly 3 years since they've seen each other, or even spoken for that matter. While Thaor would love to pretend that life was well, he had to admit he had been lonely, and missing the company of his dear friends.

Well there I was, harvesting my latest crop of avocados, and suddenly I thought; you know who would appreciate some fresh avocados? Michael would. So I packed some up, and came to see you. Thaor said with a smile. That's not really how it went, but Michael didn't need to know all of that, not right now anyway. The last three years had been miserable for him, he had effectively self excommunicated himself from the group, needing time to both cope with what he had done, and to gain the strength and will power to confront those evils with his friends.

I had thought perhaps you'd moved or something when it seemed no one was home. Was about to head back home.

"Avocados?" Michael asked. "Somehow I don't see you farming avocados. Maybe I shouldn't ask, though. No, I still live in the same old place. I just had the evening off. Kate and Robert have the boys, so I was having a pint with Marcus Belby's father, Jonathan--he owns Honeydukes now. He's a good chap. His wife, Claire, is a chocolatier, and she does a good deal of the candy making there now. Belby's toying with some special order adult-recipe fudge concoctions, but the firewhiskey fudge catches fire still, unfortunately.

"Nonetheless, I don't believe you came here to bring me any avocados. Shame, though. I have a couple of salads I like to put them in. So, why don't you come back to the house with me, and I'll have Snidely bring up a bottle of something from the cellar for us to warm up with? He should be about finished sweeping up the broken glass down there anyway. Earlier today, one of the kids knocked over one of the bottles from my collection of brandy and broke it, so Snidely was cleaning up the mess when I left. I have to give him something to do when I leave right now because he and the mailbox were getting a little serious and it seems they've had a bit of a breakup. And if I don't keep him busy, he's going to go back to trying to teach the footstools to pee on the mailbox just to get even with her." He motioned to Thaor to come with him back to the house.

Thaor turned and followed Michael back towards his house. I've really been farming avocados. The trees are beautiful. Thaor said, reflecting on the peacefulness of his farm. Boys? When did you have kids Michael? He really had been gone a long time. He had missed so much. While he put his own life on hold, it's only fair that his friends moved on and kept living their lives.

Thaor pulled several avocados from his knapsack, and handed them to Michael. While I didn't come solely to give you some avocados, I did bring some. he said with a wry laugh.

[b]They've had a breakup have they? What happened?[b] Thaor said, he was always interested with Michaels 'pets'. Inanimate objects living lives, they always seemed to keep Michael on his toes.

"Nice," Michael said, admiring the quality of the avocados Thaor gave him. "Maybe that is one of your callings, after all. They're just exactly how I like them. Thank you." When they got to the cottage, Michael opened the door, seeing Snidely racing to make off with a plastic jar of muggle paintballs. "Snidely, you bring those back! You are not going to paint her, or I'll paint you--pink, this time!" The hat rack paused only long enough to blow raspberries at Michael before he dashed out the back door. "Of all the cheek," Michael scowled. He turned and saw Snidely rounding the house and heading full on towards the mailbox, aiming a fistful of paintballs at her. Michael fired wandless magic at the hat rack, covering Snidely with rainbow colored splatters instead. Michael frowned.

"Well," he told Thaor. "That isn't what I intended to do, but he'll be right put off by that for awhile anyway. He's been bitter since he got this bizarre idea that the mailbox was carrying on with the neighbors' garden rake. Anyway, I used the paintballs in a muggle museum heist in Paris a couple of months ago, and I've been intending to get rid of that jar of leftovers. I just haven't done it, but, that's starting to look like a promising way to prank Robert next time. He's well overdue for it. At any rate, make yourself at home. I'll get us something to drink." He left for a moment to put the avocados in the kitchen and came back with a bottle of firewhiskey and a couple of glasses. He motioned to a picture on the coffee table of two identical blonde haired toddlers with sapphire blue eyes. Both boys had their father's mischievous smile. "My boys--Scott and Ladd. They'll be three on Christmas, thanks to the marriage law, and they're actually good boys, no thanks to me, I'm sure.

"The marriage law paired me with a woman named Maddie, and they threatened both of us with Azkaban unless we married and produced offspring. Frankly, I was willing to go, but she wasn't the type to have survived it. She was a gentle soul who deserved a lot better than what I could have ever given her but she went along with it because she said she didn't want to be responsible for me going to prison. Awkward as hell, it was. The last thing either of us wanted was to be forced into a relationship with someone we didn't know for the sole purpose of pregnancy. We still felt like prisoners more than either of us expected we would. Well, once she was pregnant, Maddie and I started to prepare a nursery, but she disappeared at the end of November that year. I did my best to find her, but it's like she just vanished off the planet. The next thing I knew, it was February and some old woman from an orphanage in Wales showed up one day when I was in the Three Broomsticks and she hands me the boys' birth certificates and the boys and buggars right off. Took her all of about fifteen seconds to make me an instant father of two newborns. Haven't seen or heard a syllable from Maddie since she left."

He poured two glasses of whiskey and handed one to Thaor.

"Thank God for Khaat and Brian, really. They stepped in and have been wonderful godparents. The job takes me away now sometimes for a few days at a time, and there's always someone at Khaat's estate to give me a hand with the boys. They call Kate and Robert Gran and Papa, which actually bothers me more than it does them. And they're close to the same age as Khaat's youngest kids, so it seems to work out. The only thing that seems to not work so well is the fact that Snidely has already showed both Scott and Ladd how to pickpocket. For just being three, they seem to have some knack to it. Imagine that," Michael's tone had a bit of sarcasm to it. "You're safe though, unless you have peppermints in your pocket. That's the only thing they want."

Thaor watched with amusement as Michael took care of Snidely. He was secretly hoping the hat rack would make it to the mailbox before Michael was able to stop him, and a frown took over his face as he saw Snidely covered in paint.

I'm sorry to hear about Maddie, it's a shame. Thaor said with an even larger frown. She sounded like a genuinely good person, and he wondered if he could assist in finding her. But before breaching that topic, he knew he had other things he needed to discuss with his old friend.

Your kids, pickpockets?!? Thaor said with a laugh. I refuse to believe it! he added sarcastically. He wasn't surprised in the least that Michaels offspring would be picking pockets at an early age. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?

Thaor took a seat as Michael went to the other room to grab firewhiskey, and took a glass from him when he returned.

He downed the contents of his glass before speaking. I suppose we both know I wasn't just bored and wanted to bring you avocados. I went away mostly because I was ashamed of the pain I've caused. I don't know that that bridge can ever be mended. he said, pausing to allow the burning sensation from the firewhiskey to subside. I stayed away, punishing myself in solitude mainly because I'm scared. We both know I have demons, that I've done things in my past that I'm not proud of, we could get past most of them, but to nearly kill the lot of you. I don't know who I've become. I stayed away with no contact because while I'm controlling those demons, we both know they're in there, and can rear their heads at any moment.

But, in the three years I've been gone, I've realized that living like that isn't living, and it isn't doing Jr any justice for his sacrifice. I have to try and make amends, and truly live life. Do some good in the world that I've caused darkness in.

"You need to let that go," Michael said, sitting back and sipping on his drink. "Truthfully, we were more frosted that you tried to off yourself at the battle of Hogwarts. I mean, after all, you were under your own curse at the time, and, don't forget that you managed, in your own way to muscle over it by removing Robert's curse from him when you did. All of that business has been water under the bridge for a long time. Thaor, we did find that it took quite a bit, even after you got rid of the curse, for Robert to get over some of the aftereffects. I think it is worth a thought that anything that happened since you were effected might well still have had some tainting to it.

"You know we've all done things that we aren't proud of, and I'm not saying that to minimize it. I don't know what all your demons are because I hardly know my own. What I do know is that when I throw myself behind something decent to believe in, I'm a better man for it. My work is probably more meaningful to me than its ever been because of that, and the boys are helpful, as much as I'm not the parenting type. I can only speak for myself, but to me, it sounds like your idea of coming back to make amends and take another direction is certainly better than isolating yourself. Too much time to oneself has powerful potential to make your demons bigger than you want them to be.

"So what are your thoughts about what you might like to do? I'm sure you've given it some sort of thought, right?"

I know I've been forgiven, as best as you all can forgive me. But I am struggling with forgiving myself. For so long I've lived life looking out for me, and not caring about the collateral damage. I didn't care who I hurt, or what I did, so long as I ended up ahead. Thaor said, refilling his glass. He hadn't drank in nearly his whole three years of exile, and the firewhiskey was already starting to give him a good buzz. Against his better judgement, he took another healthy drink from his glass.

I kidnapped Khaat, set sparks ablaze, I destroyed much of Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley, and Hogwarts, I've killed countless people. My soul has been torn so many times, and is so black, I don't think even fiendfyre could shed light on it. he said, pausing to finish his glass.

As I was sitting on the farm, I grew restless, tormented by these memories, I thought about removing them, but decided I don't deserve that luxury. Then there I was, this morning, bored and practicing some useless spells, when I decided to see if I had enough happiness left to muster up a patronus, when I saw this. Thaor said, taking his wand from his pocket.

Expecto Patronum he said as he focused on the memory of his son, teaching at Hogwarts, he was a good man, and that gave Thaor all the happiness he could use in one lifetime, his son truly enjoyed life, no matter what his father had done.

A fully formed silver eagle materialized from the tip of Thaor's wand, it flew about the room before disappearing almost as fast as it had appeared.

It was that patronus that made me realize I had to come back, I had to put good into this world. It was today that I realized that my patronus changed, not because I was madly in love with someone, but because of the love that I have for that family. I find it peculiar that it's taken the form of Khaat's patronus, and not Roberts. I have a hard time understanding that, but I believe it's because I feel, deep down, that I've done the most damage to her. he said, finishing off the contents of his glass.

Talking about his emotions, feelings, and shortcomings didn't come naturally to him, nor was he comfortable doing it, ever. The liquid courage in the form of firewhiskey was helping that.

He stood and took a second to keep his balance, and went to refill his glass.

He listened to Thaor run down a verbal accounting of his own rap sheet, drinking firewhiskey all the while. Clearly Thaor had been brooding on this for a good long while, and, most likely, without any sort of reprieve. The firewhiskey now provided some ability for self medicating. Michael had no intention of asking him to stop drinking. There were certainly worse things than a passed-out Thaor, if it came to that. Michael poured himself a second drink and settled into just listen. He was a bit surprised to see Thaor's patronus now was a perfect match to Khaat's.

"Interesting," Michael mused. "Well, I commend you on your choice. Personally, I see her as having more of an affectionate, sensitive side, as opposed to, say, her father. At least you didn't choose someone known for acting like a git as often as he acts humane." Michael was well aware of Robert's inclination to be cold and logical, as opposed to Khaat's much larger heart and compassion. It wasn't that Robert wasn't sensitive. It was that he knew how to wield his personality as a weapon. The Lupins had not been financially or socially affluent when Robert and Remus had grown up, and what little they had had been stolen from them by Fenrir Greyback. Robert had developed all sorts of ways of protecting himself, and controlling his emotions had been important to the elder Lupin brother. It now left him often looking to other as if Robert were a git, and Robert liked them thinking that for the most part because it protected him and the ones he loved. Nevermind that it wasn't really true.

What was true, to that end, was that Robert was strategic. He did very little without as much logical thought as he could muster, and that severing of emotion had been hard for most others to swallow, including the woman whose patronus she now shared with Thaor. It was far easier to get attached to Khaat and the things she stood for, as opposed to her father, without question. And, in Michael's own personal opinion, she was the far more attractive of the two.

"Thaor," Michael said, taking a sip of his second firewhiskey before he spoke further, "we know what you did, and we knew that long before you went off to raise weird fruits and we accepted you regardless. But before you draw and quarter yourself, perhaps you should consider talking to Robert. I think its safe to say we both know he isn't going to give you a shower of emotional accolades, but, if you're looking for someone to be relatively objective, he might be as much a voice of that as you'll get. Beside whatever I can offer you, that is. We've both attached ourselves to that family, so perhaps you ought to let them know you're back--in the morning that is." Or afternoon--whenever Thaor's inevitable hangover would wear off.