The events of the past two days had started to catch up to Harry, and he had not slept well. Getting back to the castle late had helped not at all, of course. Despite that, he had still gotten up at his usual hour, joined a few minutes later by Neville and Ron, both of whom had gotten to bed at a reasonable time.
The three gryffindors were among the first to sit down in the great hall for breakfast that Saturday morning. There was little discussion among the group - they had gotten a brief summary of the order meeting from Harry before they came down, though each knew that there was much he left unsaid.
Neither of them asked about the Potters. That, too, could wait.
Their focus now was on the Daily Prophet, and how it would spin the events at the Ministry. Would the headline decry the loss of so many fine, upstanding citizens? Would it lament the boy-who-lived and his turn to darkness? Or would it be an honest accounting of the fight with a very-much-alive Voldemort and his terrorists?
Harry had not heard back from Madam Bones when he wrote to her about his meeting with Barnabas Cuffe, nor had he expected a response. The DMLE Director rarely cared about what was said in the paper, but at Harry's urging she had hoped to play up the ICW declaration and the terrorist angle. Twenty three terrorists walked into the ministry to cause mayhem, and eleven were carried out in shackles. The other twelve were carried out in bags.
And as for Voldemort? Harry knew how badly Madam Bones wanted to hang the Minister out to dry, but she would be hesitant to use the attack to remove him directly. In his letter, Harry had agreed with her - especially seeing as how most of the wizengamot would probably want him out anyway. Better, he thought, to give the facts of the matter and let them make their own decision.
He did not tell her that she would be a top candidate for Minister, especially if she was seen as the steady hand holding things together after the chaos of the battle. They had not discussed her ambitions much, not in the few meetings he had had with her. What he did know, and what was obvious from her demeanor every time she mentioned Minister Fudge, was that she believed that she would do a much better job than he had. He also could tell that she did not want to be Minister.
To his mind, that made her the ideal candidate.
An elbow from Neville shook Harry out of his musings. With a nod, Neville pointed out Hannah Abbott, who was taking her seat at the Hufflepuff table. Rare indeed was the morning that she went to breakfast without her best friend, and Harry's eyes went to the main entrance. There, he saw Susan Bones standing there, leaning against the door frame, looking right at him.
Ron saw the look, and followed his gaze - and then chuckled. "Time to face the music, mate," he said, quietly. Neville tried hard not to react as well, and was mostly successful.
Harry rolled his eyes at his friends, before taking a piece of toast. Rising, he made a show of straightening his clothing. "Wish me luck, lads." he said, before walking toward the Bones heiress.
The two watched him go. Neville shook his head, smiling at the sight. "He crosses wands with death eaters, and doesn't blink. You put him in front of the Dark Lord, and he's all business. A true Gryffindor." He nodded toward Harry and Susan, who were speaking quietly. "But when his favorite Hufflepuff is involved? That's when he gets nervous."
oOoOoOoOo
Harry said little as he followed Susan down the stairs toward the dungeons. He knew where she was going - there were several empty classrooms near the Hufflepuff common room, and one had been converted into a combination lounge and study area by some group of NEWT students years ago. This early on a weekend, no one would be there.
When the new term started, and the six began having their own training sessions, Harry had pulled back slightly from the main DA classes. By this point, he had several upper year students (beyond his team) who could reliably instruct the others, either on particular spells or in general. He and Hermione were clearly stepping back, allowing others to take the lead.
Susan was not one of those students - she hadn't joined up to become a teacher. She had joined up because of her parents. She had joined up because of Cedric. She had joined up because of the kissed death eater they carried out of the school last year, trailing behind a chuckling Minister Fudge.
Mostly, she had joined because of the night she found Aunt Amelia working on a bottle of scotch after a meeting with Lord Malfoy. A meeting during which Lord Malfoy had asked if there were any marriage contracts involving her niece.
Susan Bones joined the DA to learn how to fight, and she wanted to learn from the best. Right now, Potter was it. So why the hell was he stepping away from the DA? When she saw Harry and Neville leave together one Sunday afternoon, she decided to find out.
Harry smiled to himself, as he thought back to the first time he had had a meeting like this with Susan Bones.
"One more round," Neville said, still catching his breath. He was not leaning on the wooden staff - yet - but it was clear that he was nearing his limit.
Harry's muscles ached as well, even as he gave his own staff a spin. "You sure, Nev?"
A nod. "They're not going to take breaks, why should I?"
Harry frowned at that. "Death eaters sleep too, Neville. It doesn't help anyone if we overdo it."
Neville gave his own staff a flourish, shifting it from hand to hand. "I mean, if you're too tired…"
"Oh, I didn't say that, did I?" Harry was grinning, and Neville seemed to relax a bit at that. Which, of course, was when he struck.
They fought for a few minutes, during which Harry remained the aggressor. Neville found himself backed up against the edge of the platform, forced to dodge left or right and circle back around. The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of the wooden staves was the only sound.
Eventually, Harry stepped inside Neville's guard. "Dead." said Harry, forcing Neville to look down and see the wooden knife at his throat. After a moment, they broke apart, each again trying to catch their breath.
"That's a dirty trick," said Neville, without anger.
"Since when do the death eaters play fair?" was Harry's response.
Neville didn't reply, but instead tossed his staff to Harry, who caught it effortlessly. With a grin, he went off to the showers the Room had helpfully provided, while Harry returned the staves to the rack along the wall.
"Did you enjoy the show?" he asked the empty room. The quiet gasp that answered him brought a smirk. "Come on, now, if I thought you worked for the toad you'd already be waking up in a classroom somewhere, wondering where your memories went." He idly played with one of the throwing knives as he spoke. "Might as well show yourself."
A quick Finite would end whatever disillusionment their visitor was using, but Harry had found himself curious who had followed them. Was it a slytherin? A younger student hoping to learn more about the boy who lived? He had not expected to see the girl who revealed herself, a sheepish expression on her face at having been caught out.
"Hello, Susan."
oOoOoOoOo
When they entered the study room, Susan quickly locked the door. Before Harry could add privacy charms, the red-haired witch had him in a hug. He could do little more than hug her back - relieved that she was not angry with him, but concerned that she had worried.
After a few minutes, she pulled back, almost dragging Harry to a nearby couch. Once he was seated, she took a seat on the other end, putting her feet up on his lap. Without prompting, Harry told her about the events at the Ministry.
Susan barely reacted to the news that Harry and the others had killed death eaters. She shared her aunt's view on the matter - while she hated the loss of life, she hated allowing the death eaters to escape even more. That had actually been one of Susan's arguments, when she convinced Aunt Amelia to support Harry's efforts - and, by extension, Harry himself. Death eaters who escaped were responsible for a known number of additional deaths and injuries - stopping them prevented those deaths. It was a strict cost-benefit analysis, straight out of one of Harry's muggle books.
As it turned out, Aunt Amelia had not required much convincing, to Susan's surprise.
The longer Harry spoke, however, the more convinced Susan became that he was leaving something out. Something big. They had gotten to know each other well enough over these past few months, much to both of their surprises, and she could tell that he was hesitant to complete the tale. Moreover, he could tell that she knew - her eyebrows furrowed in exactly the same way that her aunt's did when she was judging evidence.
After a quiet few minutes, he sighed. "When we were in the Death Chamber, we also caught a witch and a wizard who weren't death eaters. Your aunt confirmed their identities as James and Lily Potter."
Susan's hand went to her mouth, stifling her gasp. "Your parents?" She said quietly.
Harry nodded. "They survived and went into hiding." His eyes met hers, and she saw how upset he was, how raw his emotions were when his parents came up. He continued, his voice barely a whisper. "They had to train the boy-who-lived, you see."
"The boy who…. Oh, for fuck's sake, they didn't." Susan was startled when Harry laughed at her reaction. Off her annoyed look, he gave her a smile.
"I'm sorry, it's not funny, really," he said. "But that's exactly what your aunt said when Dumbledore told her about my secret twin brother, James Junior."
"James Junior?" she asked, incredulously. "You're a twin?"
Another nod. "They hid behind a charm that blocks all magic, in or out. And, apparently, they plan to announce him as the chosen one soon."
She was shaking her head in disbelief, stunned at the unmitigated gall of the plan. "Whose idea was that?"
"Professor Dumbledore."
Susan stood up at that, and began pacing. It was fortunate that they were in what amounted to a classroom, for had they been in the Room of Requirement, she likely would have started blasting training dummies. There was nothing, however, that prevented the stream of profanity that came out of her mouth.
Presently, she calmed down, a look of intense concentration coming over her features. Harry had teased her at one point, calling that look her 'Auror mode', for he had seen the same look on the face of Amelia Bones. Susan's aunt was a loving parental figure, a consummate politician (despite her distaste for politics), and an exceptional administrator - as the Director of the largest department of the Ministry would have to be. Above all of those roles, however, Amelia Bones considered herself an investigator - and she had been one of the best in her day, which was part of why she was Director in the first place.
Susan had learned quite a bit from her aunt. Putting the pieces of a puzzle together quicker than anyone else? That ran in the family.
Her words cut right to the heart of the matter. "He's going to take up the Lordship. He's going to be your Head of House."
Harry held up his hand, displaying the golden Lord's ring for House Potter. "He can try."
Susan's eyes grew wide. "You still have it? How?" She knew he had taken up his Lordship, but thought that the ring would revert to James Potter, now that he had been revealed as alive.
"Magic declared me the Lord Potter, and I sealed it with the oath," replied Harry. "James Potter, meanwhile, is legally dead. He's in no position to take up anything." His voice grew cold and hard, as the anger started to return at the thought of his parents. "There's also the small matter that they abandoned a member of their house without cause."
She heard the pain in his voice, and moved to sit next to him. He leaned against her as she put an arm around him. "Did they know about the Dursleys?" she asked, quietly.
He shook his head. "They had no idea where I had been staying." He closed his eyes, sighing heavily. "Even if they had bothered to find out, would they have done anything? I very much doubt it. It would have ruined Dumbledore's great plan."
"Fucking animals," she muttered, causing Harry to laugh.
They sat there for a few minutes, simply comforting each other. Despite their circumstances, and their agreement, she wanted to be there for him - and knew that he needed her there.
Her own parents had died at Voldemort's wand, which is why she had been raised by Aunt Amelia. There had been many days over the years when Susan found herself wishing that she could speak to them, just once, that she could spend a day with them and tell them how much she missed them. Today, however, after hearing about Harry's 'reunion', she found herself thankful that her parents had been confirmed dead, and their bodies found and later buried in the Bones crypt.
She shuddered. "How dare they," she whispered.
Harry responded with a deep sigh of his own, his arm pulling her closer. "I knew you'd understand."
oOoOoOoOo
The Room of Requirement had provided several low couches and a table, on which Harry Potter was now propping his boots. Susan, still nervous about having been discovered, had taken a bit of convincing before she took the seat across from the gryffindor.
"Dobby?"
Susan heard the pop of a house elf, and saw what had to be Dobby laying out a tray of biscuits and tea. The elf was wearing dark green pants and a small grey T-shirt. As the elf turned and looked at her before popping away, Susan saw that the shirt said "ARMY" in black letters. It was the strangest outfit she had ever seen an elf wear.
"Anything for you, Neville?" Harry asked, raising his voice.
"No thanks," was the reply from the showers, as Neville Longbottom entered the room, toweling his hair off. He stopped a few paces away when he saw Susan. "Harry?"
Harry took a biscuit, smiling at her. "The Heiress Bones decided to see what we were up to, Heir Longbottom." He did nothing to keep the amusement out of his voice, which annoyed her.
"This isn't funny, Harry," she began. "I thought you were leaving us to fend for ourselves."
She saw Harry and Neville share a look. "No, Susan, we wouldn't do that to you." Harry paused, considering how to respond. "I never planned to teach every class, you knew that."
"I know, but when you asked Cho and Hannah and the twins to start teaching, I thought you'd be helping us." Susan's frustration was obvious. "I wanted to know what was so important that you had to stop showing up."
"And what did you find out?" asked Neville, quietly.
"That you and Harry are exercising on your own, and that you're both hiding something from the group." Her brown eyes met Harry's green ones, and he could see the drive behind them. There was intensity there, more than even he had expected. "And that you're planning something to do with the death eaters."
The boys shared another glance. Harry then took a sip of his tea, before quietly answering her unspoken question. "I'm just a fifth year, Susan, what business do I have fighting a war?"
Susan shook her head. "Why bother with the DA, then? You said we needed to be prepared for anything. You said that we had to protect ourselves, that we had enemies inside and outside of the castle." She leaned forward, piercing him with her gaze. Despite her passion for the topic, her voice remained low and even - but both gryffindors could hear the steel her calm demeanor concealed. "Who else would you be preparing for?"
Harry matched her move, leaning forward in his seat. "An underage wizard seeking out a fight with adults, many of them titled lords, would quickly fall afoul of the DMLE, Miss Bones." He took another sip of his tea. "As I'm sure you heard from Director Bones, even the slightest step out of bounds will bring the Ministry down on my head. I cannot risk that."
Susan had to concede the point. But something he said gave her pause. She met his green eyes once more, and gave him a grin.
oOoOoOoOo
When Susan and Harry entered the corridor, they heard footsteps coming from their left. Angry, hurried footsteps. Harry was pleased to see Susan's wand already in her hand, ready to back him up.
"Potter!" Draco Malfoy looked as if he had been searching for him, and the Daily Prophet clutched in his hand explained why. The slytherin stopped about ten paces away - about the right distance for a duel. Curiously, he did not have his wand out.
"Heir Malfoy," Harry said, inclining his head slightly in a mockery of Pureblood traditions. It would not do to step out of bounds when a blood feud is in play, after all. "I see you heard the news."
"What did you do to my father?" Draco spat. Harry felt Susan tense, and fought to keep his voice calm. He would only have one shot at this.
"As I recall, Neville Longbottom relieved him of his hostage before I stunned his arse and handed him over to the DMLE," Harry said, evenly.
Draco sneered. "You know he'll be released before the week is out, right? Surely you're not that stupid."
Harry gave him a smile of his own - a smile that told Draco that Harry knew something he didn't. "You might be right," Harry replied. "And if they were held by the Ministry, I'd agree."
Draco frowned at that. "What are you talking about?"
"Well, it seems the ICW isn't very happy with your Dark Lord, Heir Malfoy. As we speak, your father and ten of his pals are enjoying the hospitality of the ICW's new prison in the mountains of Northern Hungary." Harry allowed himself a bit of a sneer, just to rattle the slytherin. "I'll bet that by the end of the day they'll be filled with so much veritaserum that their bollocks will float out their ears."
"Oh, I'll bet the Dark Lord won't like that," said Susan. Draco paled, not sure how to respond.
Harry grinned. "No, I don't imagine he will."
"He'll kill you all, along with the blood traitors and the mudbloods!" Now Harry knew he had gotten into Draco's head, if all he had was the same tired old lines.
"Doubt it." Harry replied.
Draco pulled his wand out of his robes, only to have it fly into Susan's waiting hand. Her wordless expelliarmus had caught the slytherin entirely by surprise. So stunned was he at the loss of his wand, that he did not keep his eyes on Harry. It took the metallic noise from Harry's right hand to get his attention, and even then he failed to react to the piece of dark metal he saw there.
Unfortunately for Draco, that dark metal was a telescoping steel baton. With a CRACK, Harry brought the weapon to Draco's knee, sending him sprawling to the floor. Before he could even react, Harry had him pinned down, one of his heavy combat boots on Draco's chest. Try as he might, Draco could not get free.
Without speaking, Harry lifted the sleeves of Draco's robes, checking the boy's arms. Bare skin showed that, for the moment, Draco Malfoy remained unmarked.
"Get off of me, Potter!" Hissed Draco.
Harry ignored him. "Here's what's going to happen. You're only going to hear this once, so listen well, Heir Malfoy." He leaned down, bringing his face closer to Draco's. His voice was calm and even, but that much more menacing for all that. "If you show up to school with the Dark Mark next term, you will die. If you take the Mark, and I find you over the summer holiday, you will die. If I find that you've gone on any raids or revels, as your master calls them, then marked or unmarked, you will die."
"You think Dumbledore will do anything to me? You think he can?"
The amusement on Harry's face chilled Draco to the core. "Honestly, no I don't."
"Then what do you think will happen to me?" Draco, despite the boot on his chest, tried his best to sneer.
Harry shrugged. "I think that I'll find you on the train and check your arms. If you've got the Dark Mark, then I'll kill you."
Draco paled again, but spoke without thinking. "You wouldn't dare," he spat.
Putting more weight on Draco's chest, Harry glared at him. "Ask your Aunt Bella exactly what I would dare, Draco Malfoy. And then speak to your mother." He stepped back, allowing Draco to scramble back along the stone floor. "I think you both have a lot to think about."
Draco just stared at him, before getting to his feet and fleeing down the corridor.
Susan walked over to his side, idly twirling Draco's hawthorn wand in her hand. "I'm still wondering why you warned him?"
Harry leaned against the wall, collapsing his baton and putting it away. "His mother was a Black, once upon a time. Sirius wanted me to give her and Draco a chance to escape."
"Why, though?" she asked, frowning.
"With Lucius gone, Draco becomes head of the house - meaning that if he flees, Voldemort loses his galleons. It hurts the enemy, and costs me nothing." He shrugged. "Besides, Sirius always liked Draco's mother, when they were kids. He wanted to give her one last chance." Harry sighed. "Unfortunately, Draco comes with the package."
"I see," she said, and he knew that she did. Then she chuckled. "Perhaps you can get rid of him later."
Harry laughed at that. Offering her his elbow, the pair began walking toward the kitchens. Susan had not eaten, after all, and they had had a busy morning. That neither of them had to ask where the other was going just spoke to how well they got along by this point.
"Maybe I'll take out an ad in the Prophet," Harry mused. "One Ferrett, pale oily fur. Loves hair products, spends its time putting its feet in its mouth. Mostly harmless. Free to a good home. Owl Lord Black for details."
Susan's laugh was infectious, and soon both of them were giving the joke much more of a reaction than it deserved. Harry glanced to the side, and saw her smile back at him. Maybe I'll be alright after all, he thought.
She did have one question, however. "Auntie never mentioned anything about any new Hungarian prison, Harry."
Harry chuckled. "I hear the mountains are beautiful, this time of year." They arrived at the entrance to the kitchens, and he paused before tickling the pear that would open the doorway. "They also have the benefit of being about as far away from The Hague as you can get."
Susan nodded. "A trap, then?"
Harry shrugged. "Let's call it misinformation." Opening the door, he gestured toward the kitchens with a flourish. "After you, Miss Bones."
oOoOoOoOo
Harry escorted Susan Bones out of the Room of Requirement, before returning for his bag. Neville, having already packed his things, was waiting.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked. Harry sighed, grabbing the last biscuit while he considered his response.
"Yeah, Neville, I think I am."
"I mean," Neville continued, "We agreed to keep our team a secret from everyone. Even cute Hufflepuffs."
Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not like that."
"Harry, do you know how many times Susan Bones gets asked to Hogsmeade?"
"I can't say that I do, Nev."
Neville shook his head. "Well, it's quite a lot, I assure you. And she always says no." He gestured toward the door. "Until today, when she asks you to go, and you - the Warrior Monk of Hogwarts, give her an immediate yes!"
Harry sputtered into his tea. "The what now?"
Neville chuckled. "Cho may have spread the rumor last term, after you turned her down. Something about not wanting to put her at risk when the fighting starts, I think?"
"I never said that," muttered Harry. "I said it was too soon for her, after the third task."
"Well, that's not how she told the tale, Lord Potter if you please," answered Neville, clearly enjoying himself.
"Besides," Harry continued. "This isn't a date."
"Oh, it's not?"
"No, of course not, Susan just wants me to have lunch with her aunt."
"Yes, I caught that bit. Her aunt, the Honourable Madam Amelia Bones, the Regent Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and member of the ICW's task force on International Terrorism. Not to mention a long-time ally of your house." Neville raised his hand, as if offering a toast. "You sure know how to pick'em, mate."
Harry waved his hand at Neville, in clear dismissal, and earned a laugh for his trouble. Picking up their bags, the boys made their way to Gryffindor Tower. As they walked, Harry thought about Neville's comments - and about their talk with Susan.
That night, Harry entered the dorm to find Ron and Neville looking at him expectantly. He paused in the doorway.
"Gentlemen?" he asked, hesitantly.
Ron's face broke out in a grin. "I hear you have a date with Susan Bones?"
"Oh, for - Neville!" Ron and Neville laughed at Harry's reaction, clearly enjoying a light moment. Those had been few and far between, lately.
"It's alright, Harry, I understand. I do. We're just having you on." Neville wasn't going to apologize, but he didn't want to anger Harry, either.
"I know, I know, it's just… I mean, I don't want to make her a target, you know? I don't want to get her hurt." Harry looked at his friends, now his brothers-in-arms. "After this is done, I'll have all the time in the world for dating. Until then, I need to focus."
If anyone would understand, it would be these two. Judging by their reactions, Harry knew that he was right.
oOoOoOoOo
Senior Accounts Manager Twinblade looked up from his parchmentwork when he heard the knock at his door. He had no appointments today, nor were any expected before next week. It was his honour to serve one family and one family only - a proud family, and a wealthy one, but still just one family.
When that family had but one member, and that member was attending Hogwarts, it became a trivial exercise to plan one's schedule.
"Come!" The old goblin stood, wondering who wanted to conduct business with the House of Potter. The oaken door swung open, admitting a tall, hooded wizard and a very annoyed Griphook.
/"This one claims to be of your house, father,"/ said Griphook, in the Goblin tongue. Twinblade could hear the anger in his son's voice, and wondered at it.
/"Indeed,"/ replied Twinblade. /"Does this wizard have a name?"/
Griphook glanced at the wizard, who had been following the exchange but clearly didn't understand the language. Of course, human names were not translated into the Goblin tongue, so Griphook improvised.
/"Father, he claims to be the previous Lord, father of the current Lord."/ Griphook was clearly uneasy with the situation.
Twinblade's eyebrow raised in surprise. It was a bold claim, all the better for proof though it may be. Such things were easily proven, however. But not yet, he thought.
"I am told that you claim to be James Potter, wizard." Twinblade said, pitching his voice to convey just the right amount of annoyance. "Remove your hood and show yourself."
James Potter lowered the hook of his cloak, a polite smile on his face. "It is good to see you again, Twinblade."
Twinblade looked at him closely, his eyes narrowing, as if appraising an antique. Presently, he sat down at his desk, almost glaring at James.
"I will concede," began the Account Manager, "that you could be James Potter, son of Charlus. But that man died long ago. Yet, here he claims to stand before me." He sneered at James, exposing his sharp teeth. "Why should I believe you?"
James remembered well the day his father had reminded him about the Goblins - and that one should never relax in the presence of a smiling Goblin. "Albus Dumbledore secreted us away from harm, Twinblade. We have lived in secret all this time."
"And by we, you mean… who, exactly?"
James seemed to catch himself before responding. It was the briefest moment, easily dismissed - but for the fact that Twinblade was discounting nothing, at this point. Every word, every movement, all of it was information he needed. More importantly, it was information his client needed.
"My entire family went into hiding, Twinblade." said James.
Griphook, from his place near the door, spoke up. "Manager Twinblade, I had the honour of escorting one Harry Potter to his trust vault before his first year at Hogwarts. Am I to believe that that one was an impostor?"
James' eyes grew wide, as he realized his slip. "My apologies, Twinblade. Harry, of course, remained in the wizarding world."
"Yes, yes he did." replied the old Goblin. "And you, your wife Lily, and your other son James Junior, all were declared dead by the Ministry. Our own tests of your magic confirmed it." He leaned forward, filling his voice with all the contempt he could. "As far as Gringotts is concerned, I am speaking to a dead man."
James' face clouded in anger. "I am the Lord Potter, by right of blood and law. I would take up the ring, and restore myself as Head of House."
Twinblade stood, staring at the man. Then he snapped his fingers, summoning two guards. "As I said, sir, you are a dead man. Dead men cannot take up the Lordship, certainly not of any house to whom I owe my service."
"I will take the inheritance test!" James shouted, angrily, as the guards reached him. They made no move to threaten him, and waited quietly at the gesture from Twinblade.
Again, the Account Manager sneered at his former client. "Dead men inherit nothing, sir. Go to your Ministry, plead your case to them. If they see fit to recognize you as a living wizard, then perhaps we will have business." With a nod, he sent the guards out. James, wisely, did not choose to object, but the anger on his face was plain.
After the door closed, Griphook looked to his father. Twinblade met his son's eyes, and grinned. Then he handed his son a galleon. /"It would seem that Lord Potter was correct, after all."/
The two spoke for a few more minutes, as father and son, before Griphook went to return to his duties. Twinblade, meanwhile, began writing a letter to his client.
A/N: Life, as happens on occasion, has been a dumpster fire. Hopefully we'll get back into the swing of more regular updates before too much longer.
As anyone who saw the tags update a few weeks ago might guess, Susan Bones will play an interesting role moving forward. I don't like Harry/Susan stories where she exists as a way to get Amelia involved and fixing whatever needs fixing, but in this case, with this Susan, that's how it started off - for her. Harry's motivations, as we'll see throughout, are more complex. Both Susan and her Aunt will have an enormous amount of influence on Harry's strategy, and already have in the case of Amelia.
James has spent close to fifteen years with one son - the fact that he doesn't include Harry in his thoughts when speaking of his entire family is telling. Even if it's just a slip of the tongue, it's pretty damning. Twinblade, who knows exactly how likely he'd be to abandon his own son, is quite right to be horrified. That Harry called it should surprise no one. Twinblade, for his part, remembered the young auror who held the Lordship for so brief a time - and had hoped that James was not the man Harry expected him to be. Griphook never knew James, but knows Harry - and trusted his instincts when betting with his father.
Next: The Term ends, and Summer begins.
Feedback, as always, is welcome.
