Spoil of War
Rating: PG-13 for the moment, but rating is subject to change
Author's Note: This is, as I'm sure you all have figured out by now, a Harry Potter/Twilight crossover fic. It's AU for HP after Harry's fifth year, and will be an AU taking place during New Moon in the Twilight series. Bella never came to Forks, so don't expect her to make an appearance, but everyone else is as is. This will be a slash fic with an Edward/Harry pairing. Let me know what you all think, and I'll try to keep it coming as quickly as I can!
***
Prologue
Harry Potter was not normal. Even before he knew what exactly it was that made him different, there was always something that set him apart from others. When he was little, it was because he was an orphan. His cousin, Dudley, was always quick to point out to the kids at school that Harry was only living with the Dursleys because his parents went and got themselves killed. Freaks.
Later it was his magic. Once Harry found out he was a wizard, magic became a sort of answer to all his questions: this was how his parents had lived and died, this was why strange things kept happening around him. It wasn't his fault the glass partition on the Boa Constrictor cage vanished at the zoo on Dudley's birthday and his cousin got trapped inside. It was the magic! But then it turned out that Harry wasn't even a normal wizard. Famous Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. The only person in history to have survived the killing curse, and destined to kill or be killed by the darkest wizard the world had ever known.
For the most part, Harry thought he was used to it. Being different from everyone else became Harry's definition of normal. Of course, just as soon as he came to terms with who he was, things had to get crazy again. Now it turns out Harry can't even be a normal human. But we'll get to that later.
One
Harry would never admit it out loud – especially not to Hermione – but he was almost glad not to be going back to Hogwarts for his sixth year of school. After the battle at the Department of Mysteries, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, was forced to admit to the public that Lord Voldemort had returned from the dead. Understandably there was much hysteria from the wizarding population, but it came as complete surprise to Harry and his friends that the panic escalated to the point where parents were refusing to send their children away from home. Fudge used the opportunity provided to temporarily close Hogwarts, once believed to be one of the safest places in the world, and instead began petitioning Dumbledore to spend his time developing plans for the upcoming war.
When letters informing students' families of the decision were sent round, Harry thought Hermione was going to have a panic attack. She, Harry and Ron were gathered together in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. It was dark and gloomy, which was fairly typical for the sprawling monstrosity that had once belonged to Harry's late godfather.
"I don't think it's fair!"Hermione stared into her glass of pumpkin juice as if it had the answer to all her problems. "What are we going to do if we can't go back to school this fall? There's so much more we have to learn, and it's not going to help us any against You-Know-Who if we can't even get our spells right."
Harry shrugged. His head hurt. They had dragged him out of his bed that morning and were trying to get him to talk. Ron and Hermione were obviously worried about him, and he supposed that made sense. Sirius had been dead for almost two months, and Harry still blamed himself for his godfather's presence that night at the Department of Mysteries. If only he had remembered the two way mirror Sirius had given him, if he had just stuck with the Occlumency lessons instead of storming out on Snape, if he had been just that much faster... There were too many ifs. He was going to have to stop thinking about it or it would drive him mad. These days, though, he was finding himself more angry than anything else.
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Hermione," Harry replied, telling his friend what she wanted to hear. "I'm sure we'll be back at Hogwarts before you know it. They won't keep the school closed for long."
"Besides, we've still got Moony and McGonagall and the rest of the grown-ups. And since it looks like we're going to be stuck here for a while, they'll probably have us working on something." Ron grabbed a handful of biscuits from a plate in the center of the table, then began shoveling them into his mouth. "It's not like they'll just leave us moping about."
Hermione made a face at him. "I suppose you're right. At the very least we could start going through some of the books in the library here while we're waiting. We can keep on top of theory anyway. We may as well even get started, it'll give us something to think about besides Siri–"Hermione cut off mid-sentence and darted an apologetic glance at Harry.
"It's okay," he said. "You're right, it'll help. And if it'll get me any closer to being able to wipe the floor with Lestrange, I'm all for it." Harry shoved back on his chair and got to his feet. Hermione and Ron followed, Ron muttering under his breath about studying on summer hols and the unfairness of it all.
The library at Grimmauld Place was every bit as oppressive as the rest of the house. It had been gone through the summer before, and anything looking even remotely Dark in appearance had been removed and destroyed so the Order could have full access to the room. Tall bookcases in dark wood lined the walls, crammed full of musty leather volumes, more books stacked in messy piles on the scattered wooden tables, some in towering stacks on the floor. There were a few stiff-looking wingback chairs upholstered in stained green velvet that were placed before the empty fireplace, but otherwise seating was limited to hard wooden chairs at the study tables.
Seated in a sprawl in one of the wingbacks, a book hanging limply from his fingers, was Remus Lupin. His head was lolled to the side, breathing deep and even. He was asleep. Remus had been having a particularly difficult time since Sirius's death. The man had been his best friend since childhood, and only recently returned from a stint in Azkaban. Harry hurt badly enough because of the loss of his godfather, and he'd only really known the man for a few years. He couldn't even imagine what Remus must be dealing with.
"Maybe we should come back later," Harry turned back to his friends, motioning for them to be quiet and make their way back out the door so as not to wake the sleeping man. A shuffling noise from behind Harry made him look back. Too late.
"Harry?" The voice was sleep slurred and gravelly.
Harry gave Remus a wan looking smile, then nodded to his friends. "You two go ahead back upstairs. I'll catch up later."
"Alright, mate. Find us when you're done." Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder, and the two left.
Harry went back over to Remus and dropped heavily into the chair next to him. Since Harry had been brought to Grimmauld Place at the beginning of July, he had found himself spending much of his time with his former professor. Remus was quiet and calm, and didn't make him talk when he didn't feel like it. They understood each other, and to Harry it was a welcome respite. "Hey, Moony. Didn't mean to wake you. Hermione wanted to have a look at the books here, maybe start going over some spell theory since it looks like we're not going to be back at school next term."
"S'okay," Remus ran a hand over his face. "I didn't mean to fall asleep." He looked at Harry sharply. "What do you mean you're not going to school this term? What's happened?"
"Dumbledore didn't tell you? Apparently Hogwarts has been closed. They say it's not safe–the letters to parents came round this afternoon. I'm surprised you haven't heard anything."
Remus laughed humorlessly. "I'm afraid they're not telling me much of anything these days. Don't think I can handle it I suppose."
"Tell me about it. Nobody ever tells me anything. Maybe if they did some things would have turned out differently." Harry pulled his wand from out of his trouser pocket and began turning it absentmindedly between his fingers. He found himself falling into the habit often lately, his mind going over spells as he tried to come up with alternate outcomes to the events at the Department.
Remus placed his hand over Harry's, stopping the nervous movement. "I'm beginning to think you're right about that," he said softly. "There are things they should have told you about. Still are, probably. Dumbledore mentioned this morning that there's going to be an Order meeting later tonight. I think it's about time I had a talk with him"
"Is there something going on?" Harry asked, worried.
"I don't rightly know. It should be just the regular weekly planning session, but now that Hogwarts is closing...he may have something in mind." Remus studied Harry's face intently. "I'll see if I can find anything else out later and I'll try to let you know what's going to happen."
Harry smiled. "Thanks."
He nodded. "How're you holding up, Harry? Aside from the school bit."
"I'm okay." Harry paused, unsure of what to say. Yes, he was upset and angry. He wanted revenge and he wanted it to stop hurting so badly whenever he thought of Sirius, but wasn't Remus dealing with enough? On top of losing his friend, he still had to worry about the Order, and the safety of Harry and his friends. Now that Sirius was gone, Remus was the one in charge of maintaining Grimmauld Place and keeping everything in order for the crowds of witches and wizards that came tromping through the house at all hours. He probably never had any time to himself, and Harry didn't really think Remus was particularly comfortable talking to any of the other adults about his problems.
"It's hard, you know? I go over and over that night, trying to see what could have been done differently, but," Harry shook his head, "it's rather pointless. What about you? Sirius was your best mate. I can't wrap my head around what you must be going through."
Remus was quiet for a moment, thinking. He nodded slowly. "Yes, it's difficult. But Sirius... he could be so reckless at times. He had a tendency to run into things without thinking. It's what landed him in Azkaban before, and it was only a matter of time before it caught up with him again." Remus paused, considering his next words carefully. "I think he would have been content in knowing that he died protecting you."
Harry's hands tightened into fists. "I wish he hadn't. I wish he'd just stayed put."
Remus sighed, reached out and rested a hand on Harry's. "It wasn't in his nature to sit still. And it most certainly wasn't your fault he was there."
"It's never my fault is it?" Harry scoffed. "I make a mistake and people die. But it's not my fault because how could I possibly know any better?"
"I know it's hard to hear, and even harder to accept, but it isn't. We're adults, Harry. If we go running into things after you, we're responsible for the consequences." Remus stared at Harry for a few silent minutes, watching the young man glare down at his knees and think. Much as he loved Harry, he felt somewhat sorry for him at times. What must it be like to be under so much pressure all the time? To be completely aware that every move you made was watched, judged. To know that, yes, if you made a mistake, people blamed you regardless of the situation. The poor boy.
"Do you want to go on up to Ron and Hermione?" he asked, breaking the silence.
Harry sighed. "Suppose I should." He looked to Remus, tilted his head to the side slightly, still looking subdued. "You'll tell me if you find anything out?"
"I'll try."
And really, that was more of an answer than Harry usually got. He nodded stiffly and left the library.
He found Ron and Hermione after poking through a few of the rooms on the upper storey of the house. They were perched together atop one of the beds in Ron's room, stretched out comfortably along its length. Hermione was copying down information into a notebook, but looked up when Harry entered the room.
"Everything alright?" she asked, putting down her pen and brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"Yeah, it's fine." He plopped down beside the two, Ron huffing as the bounce Harry made almost caused him to fall off the side of the bed. Ron smacked his leg and Harry brushed him off. "There's an Order meeting later. Remus said it should be pretty standard, but that Dumbledore might have something up his sleeve."
Ron flipped over onto his back, propping his arms behind his head. "Wonder what it could be. Doubt we'll hear anything about it, whatever it is."
"They'll have to give us something to do, though," Hermione pointed out. "Maybe we can help."
"Maybe," Harry agreed. "Remus said he'd try to let me know what was going on. Even said he'd try to talk to Dumbledore about keeping me more in the loop."
Hermione smiled softly. "That's nice of him. You two have been getting along well lately."
"Yeah. He's good to talk to." Harry shook himself and turned to face Hermione. "What are you working on?"
Ron covered his face and groaned. "Don't get her started mate! Plotting out the whole rest of our lives – what to study and when, what the best books are. We'll never have a moments peace!"
Harry laughed, watching as Hermione got offended and started hitting Ron with one of the pillows scolding him all the while. Ron raised his arms to protect himself, but she had the advantage, and soon the two were in an all out pillow fight.
He grinned and picked up a pillow. It was as good a way as any to spend the rest of the afternoon.
***
When the three were called down to the kitchen for supper, Harry, Ron and Hermione were covered nearly head to toe in feathers and had to lean on one another for support, they were laughing so hard. They took their seats, and upon looking around, Harry was surprised to see that the entire main body of the Order was gathered around the long kitchen table. Dumbledore caught his eye and smiled, eyes twinkling. Merlin but Harry hated when he twinkled.
"I'm sure you're wondering what we're all doing here, Harry," he said, reaching for a loaded dish of potatoes and serving out a large helping before continuing. "There's to be a meeting as soon as everyone's had their fill. Would you and your friends mind terribly sitting in?"
Harry blinked at the man, surprised. They were really going to let them stay? He darted a look to Ron and Hermione on either side of him, noticing their equally shocked expressions. "O-of course, sir."
"Good, good. Now pass the peas, if you please dear boy."
Harry complied, and spent the remainder of the meal anxiously waiting for it to be over so the meeting could start.
Before too long, he got his wish, and soon enough the adults had settled into their seats so that they all faced Dumbledore, who had moved to the front of the room.
"You all know by now, I'm sure, that Hogwarts won't be reopening this fall," he began, clasping his hands before him. "It was a decision made primarily by the Ministry, and after a great deal of consideration I have agreed to."
Muttering broke out through the room. Harry was somewhat surprised that the headmaster had complied with Fudge's orders so easily. Dumbledore never gave in without a fight.
"Hogwarts has always been a safe place, and I have no doubt that it shall continue to be so in the future. However, with parents refusing to send their children to us, we find ourselves at a loss. We can hardly force their hands, and in the end, it was decided by myself and the other administrators that we would use this unfortunate event to out advantage.
"Fudge has been encouraging me to take up the fight, now that he has acknowledged that Voldemort has returned, and we have decided it is best to begin focusing on our own forces for the battles to come.
"Voldemort is going to attempt to recruit anyone and anything he can to help him in his fight. As of now it won't matter to him whether or not the blood of his soldiers is pure, so long as they serve him. Only after victory will he turn on them and destroy them all.
"It is for this reason that we will attempt to get to them first. We will need all the help we can get, and it is imperative that he begin to unite ourselves against this threat to our world." Dumbledore met the eyes of each person in the room in turn, his voice steely, arms held slightly out to his sides.
Harry felt a surge of adrenaline rush through him. This was really happening. Dumbledore was giving orders, and he was going to be a part of it all. No more being treated like a kid, he was going to be training for war. He would be responsible for helping to gather fighters for the upcoming battle. Was he ready for this?
"You all will be broken up into small groups or pairings, after which you will receive your assignments. You will then gather your belonging and report back here for travel instructions. Many will be leaving the country, and correspondence will be limited entirely to progress reports and emergency calls, so say your farewells now." Dumbledore consulted a rolled parchment that had been resting on the table, and began reading off names. Harry listened absently as names were called, noting that Ron would be working with his brother, Bill, and Hermione would be with Hagrid. I hope they have me with someone decent, he thought, it'd be just like Dumbledore to try and pair me with Snape.
It wasn't until the end of the list that his name was called, "Harry Potter, and Remus Lupin." Harry let out a breath of air, relieved. I can deal with that.
"Most assuredly you all will face difficulties in the time ahead," Dumbledore began again, "I advise you to remain compassionate and kind; many of the people you meet will not greet you warmly. Remember all you have been taught, rely on one another, and above all, remember what we are fighting for– I am sure you all will do splendidly." As he spoke, McGonagall walked around the room, passing out large rolls of parchment a member of each group.
Harry took the one offered to him, unrolled it, and quickly scanned the writing until he saw who exactly he would be attempting to recruit. Werewolves. Of course, that made sense considering that he was going to be working with Remus. There was plenty more information written on the scroll: what looked like sighting reports, local and not so local folklore, and quite a bit more. At least they had something to go on.
Dumbledore clapped his hands together, briskly. "We will now part ways, my friends. Please consult with your groups and your parchments. This assignment is officially underway. Best of luck to you all."
Many of the Order members began to depart. Harry saw Tonks off in a corner with the twins, Kingsley Shaklebot talking with an older witch Harry wasn't familiar with, and Mad-Eye Moody with a tetchy looking younger wizard. He made his way over to Remus, handed over the parchment, and sat beside him on one of the benches pulled up to the kitchen table. "Looks like werewolves for us," he said.
"Not very unexpected," Remus replied, unrolling the parchment and giving it a once over. "Don't really know if we'll make much progress but it's worth a try I suppose." He turned to face Harry. "Why don't you go say your good-byes to Ron and Hermione, and we'll get started on a plan when you're done."
"Would you mind?" Harry did want a chance to talk with his friends before they separated. He didn't know how long it would be before they'd see one another again.
"Of course not. I'll be here when you're done."
"Thanks, Remus." Harry made his way out of the kitchen towards the foyer. Hermione and Ron were huddled together by the stair case talking in furious whispers. They quieted as Harry approached.
"Looks like this is the last time we'll be seeing each other for a while," he said, ruffling his fingers through the messy hair at the back of his neck. It would be strange without Ron and Hermione. They had spent a good portion of their time together for the last five years, and to not know when he'd get to see them again was hard.
"Suppose so," Ron replied. Harry could tell that from the way he was practically vibrating where he stood that Ron was excited. "They've got me working with Bill. We're gonna be checking with his contacts in the North African magical community– curse breakers, yeah? Dumbledore wants us checking with the goblins too; see what they can tell us about their defense systems at Gringotts. Might be useful." He grinned brightly.
"Wow," Harry knew Bill had made a name for himself with his work in the Pyramids in Egypt. Ron would be able to learn a lot from his brother.
"And I'm to be with Hagrid," Hermione spoke up.
"Really?" Harry asked, somewhat confused. "I heard, when they called your name. Seemed a bit strange, I thought." He'd figured Hermione would be with one of the professors, working more on research than field-work.
"Hagrid's going to try the giants again. Grawp is coming along, and since he likes me, Dumbledore thought I'd be useful, I suppose." She looked pleased with the thought of Dumbledore considering her an asset. "What about you, Harry? You're with Lupin?"
Harry nodded. "Yeah. Werewolves."
"That's rather dangerous, though, isn't it?" Hermione was worried. It was rather sweet, but Harry was a little tired of everyone being scared he was going to break.
"They're hardly going to send me somewhere I could get killed or anything, Hermione. They sort of need me, remember?"
"She didn't mean it like that, mate," Ron interrupted before the two could get in a shouting match. "We know you can take care of yourself. We just want you to be careful. You remember what they're like, werewolves."
He did. Memories of running with Hermione from Remus-the-wolf, full moon shining down on the foggy grounds of Hogwarts; knowing Ron was out there, injured, with Snape lurking about, and Sirius...well. "Yeah, I remember. But it's not like I'm going to go running around on the full moon to get their attention. I'll stay safe."
Hagrid came ambling up behind the trio from the direction of the kitchen, halting their conversation. "Sorry to interrupt yeh, Harry, but it's about time Hermione and me were off. Got a lot o' distance to cover in the next couple o' days, an' we still have to get Grawpy from the forest." He brought his hand down on Ron's shoulder, causing the boy to stumble under the sudden weight. "Bill was lookin' for yeh, Ron. He's still in the kitchen with yer mum an' the rest. Better get goin'."
"Yeah, guess I should." He turned back to Harry. "Reckon this is good-bye for a while."
Harry smiled at his friend, sad. "Seems like. Be careful, yeah? Don't get yourself trapped in a tomb somewhere."
Ron laughed. "Nah, not me! You be careful too. Don't let Lupin eat you." He dodged the punch Harry aimed at his shoulder, instead ducking behind Hermione.
"Behave boys!" she scolded. "And where's my good-bye? Too busy trying to knock each other senseless to pay me any attention I see."
The boys grinned at one another, then both grabbed Hermione up in a hug. "We'll miss you, Hermione," Harry said softly, face pressed into her hair.
"Yeah, things won't be the same without you bossing us around." Ron added.
She laughed, squeezing them back. "You'll be fine. We'll be back together before you know it." She pulled away, smiled sadly one last time, and turned to leave, jogging a bit to match Hagrid's long stride.
"I'll walk you back in there, Ron," Harry said, watching Hermione leave. "Remus is waiting for me inside." Ron nodded back.
Upon entering the kitchen, the boys parted ways, wishing each other luck one more time. Harry found Remus still slouched out on the bench closest to the kitchen hearth, the roll of parchment unravelled before him. Harry sat beside him, letting out a deep sigh. "So," he said. "Werewolves. Shouldn't be too hard finding them; I suppose you have contacts with some of the packs around here."
"I do," Remus confirmed. "But it looks like we're going after a different angle." He handed Harry the scroll, tapping a section near the top. "Voldemort has already managed to gain control over most of Britain's packs. He's got Fenrir Greyback in his pocket."
"Greyback?" Harry asked. The name didn't sound familiar to him. "Why would he make any difference?"
"Greyback is responsible for most of the roaming packs. He's a horrible excuse for a man– likes to attack children." Remus looked down at his hands, studying some of the scarring along the backs. He said quietly, "He was the one that turned me. Most of the other wolves are too scared to go against him, especially with Voldemort backing him."
Harry didn't quite know how to respond. He knew Remus was a werewolf, obviously, but to hear the older man implying that he had been attacked and probably nearly killed, likely as a child himself, was hard to hear. "I'm sorry."
Remus shook himself, banishing the dark thoughts. "No mind," he brushed it off. "Anyhow. Since that side of it is impossible, it looks like we're to be chasing fairy-stories. There's rumors of wolf packs out in America. A bit strange, really."
"Why's that?" Harry asked. American magical traditions weren't really touched upon at Hogwarts, but he had always assumed it was much like Europe's.
"Ever since the witch hunts back in the sixteen hundreds, the American wizarding population has been particularly close-knit. A few children are sent out of country for school, Canada more often than not. But mostly they're taught by family members, focusing instead on Old World practices."
Harry looked confused. "Old World?" He wasn't sure what Remus meant.
"Their magic is structured differently than ours. They accomplish the same sort of things we can, just go about it differently. We're rooted firmly in a societal approach: magical communities like Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, boarding schools and the like. America tends to be less formal. Some is based around nature worship religions and hedge-witchery, focusing on aspects of magic like healing and finding one's place in the world; some is centered in Muggle acknowledged religions like Wicca or Voodoo, which can use spells in ritualistic format to achieve their goals. All are passed through families." Remus was in full on professor mode, but Harry found it all interesting regardless.
"You'd think that if anything they'd be more open and casual about it than we are," Harry commented. He remembered hearing stories from his Uncle Vernon about America. Grunning's Drills often sent its workers overseas for various reasons, and Vernon would always complain to Petunia and Dudley afterwards. America was too loud, too bright, too bloody rude. It amused Harry terribly to see his uncle so out of sorts, and he supposed that he was expecting to see many of the traits his uncle detested carry over to the American magical community.
"In a way they are," Remus continued, stretching his legs out before him. "They're not as organized about it all as we are here, but they are more interwoven in Muggle culture. The magic-based religions, like Wicca, are known and recognized by Muggles. They just don't realize that some of the practitioners really can do magic like they claim."
Harry thought back over the conversation, running bits through his mind once more. "You said we were going to be chasing fairy-stories. What does that have to do with anything?"
"Well, since most of the magical community is scattered about to remain secret, the magical creature community is even more so. It's fairly easy for witches and wizards to hide in plain sight by becoming a part of accepted supposedly magical groups; no one will ever really believe it. It's a little different when you've got goblins or werewolves wandering about. People would notice large groupings. So most creatures remain solitary." He sighed. "That or leave altogether."
"So packs are unusual," Harry murmured, sorting the information, "but apparently there's something that's got people here suspecting otherwise. What is it?"
It struck Harry as strange that the Order would have them following what could be a false lead. Why waste the resources? He wondered. Are they trying to get us out of the way? Or does the Order think that by sending me on wild goose chase I'll be safer?
"There are sections of the Ministry that monitor strange happenings globally. Even though the British Ministry doesn't often get involved with the situations that occur, they like to be informed. There were some unexplainable deaths on the American West Coast last year. They seemed to point to animal attacks. That along with large animal sightings lead to the werewolf theory." Remus unrolled more of the scroll. Towards the end was a small map of the United States. He pointed to the top left corner. "Here, in Washington state, is a large section of forest," he tapped a little dot a ways northwest of Seattle. "Outside of this town, Forks, is where most of the sightings have taken place."
He got to his feet stiffly, re-rolling the parchment. "And that's where we'll be heading. The instructions did mention that we'll be traveling there as Muggles, so we'll be flying. Head on up to your room and pack your trunk. I'll apparate us to the airport when you're done. Supposedly there will be tickets waiting for us there."
Harry nodded, then paused. Traveling the Muggle way, particularly across borders meant that they'd need a little more than just luggage.
"How is that going to work, Remus?" he asked. "We're going to need identification. Passports too. Not to mention money."
Remus smiled and held up a satchell Harry hadn't noticed before. "McGonagall brought this round while you were with Ron and Hermione. It's got all the papers we'll need, and they've set up a bank account for us. It's all set."
Oh. Well that made sense. Dumbledore wouldn't send anyone on a mission unless they were fully prepared. "Alright, then. I'll be back down in a bit, I suppose."
Harry trekked slowly through the lower floors of Grimmauld Place, taking in the cobwebs along the ceiling, the dark looking portraits and paintings lining the walls. He wouldn't miss the place, he could admit that much to himself honestly. It was hardly the sort of house one would want to call home, much as he had wished to be able to make a home with Sirius. That would have more that made up for the awfulness of the house. He ran his fingers along the banister as he climbed the stairs to the second floor. There's no way that'll happen anymore. No godfather means no family other than the Dursleys.
Harry turned into his makeshift room, lifted his trunk from the corner, then dumped it onto the massive four-poster in the center of the room. He gathered fallen clothes, books, and other knick-knacks scattered around the room, placing them haphazardly in to the trunk. His hands stilled when they reached his photo album, taking it out and flipping it open. On one side was a picture of Sirius and Remus, looking near to his age of sixteen. Their arms were thrown around one another's shoulders and were making goofy faces for the camera.
He flipped to the last page in the book, where there was a shot of himself with Hermione and Ron, taken at some point during the last year. The three were lounging on a blanket outside by the lake at Hogwarts. Ron and Harry were playing a game of exploding snap, while Hermione had her nose buried in a book.
They're my family, too, he thought suddenly, surprised at himself for having not admitted it before. Ron and Hermione and Remus. They're my family . And they're still here. Maybe it's about time I realized that. Harry placed the album back in the trunk, then shut the lid and snapped the latches closed. He looked around the room one last time, and let out a deep breath. I won't miss it here. I'm going to go to America and track werewolves with Remus. We'll get them to agree to help us , then we'll come back here. And then I'm going to end this.
Resolution firm in his mind, Harry grabbed his trunk and dragged it downstairs. He had a plane to catch.