Like Juggling Snowballs through Hell

"Do I have to?"

Tonks lifted her head from her steaming mug of coffee. "Seriously? You're a thoroughly-devirginized, married, battle-tested Lord of five Houses, and yet you can still whinge like a fifteen-year-old boy."

"I am one."

"Pardon me, Master Harry," squeaked a high-pitched voice as Millie carried a tray of baked beans and toast to the table. "But Master is being sixteen now."

"Right, that's right." Harry shared a grin with his wife. "Merlin's favorite g-string, what did we do last night?"

"It's not every day you turn sixteen. I wanted to give you a party to remember."

"If only we could remember. What did you call those again? Jello shots?"

She looked particularly pleased with herself. "Yeah. And didn't I tell you to stay away from the orange ones? I figured what worked for one Black would work for another, but had it not been for Ginny's timely intervention, I might have lost you to Neville forever."

"No worries there," Harry reassured her. "But too bad no one thought to warn your mother."

Tonks grimaced, coughing. "Yes, the less I think about that, the better. But in the end Dad smoothed everything over, Neville has a new MILF in Narcissa, and we celebrated your birthday properly."

"I'll say. Especially after you invited half your former classmates," Charlie Weasley said, sauntering into the kitchen, shirtless, followed by Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson. "Been too long since I've been awakened by a slurring honey badger at one A.M. calling me 'Chuck' and asking me to come out to 'play-ay.'"

"No one ever thinks to take my wand away," Tonks said with a shrug. "I can't help it if I'm a drunk Patronuser."

"Master Harry?" Tillie appeared behind a tousle-haired Seamus Finnegan, who turned bright red when he saw Alicia. "What is sir wanting to do with his monkey?"

"My monkey?" Harry repeated blankly.

"We have a monkey?" Tonks was inordinately excited. "Wicked."

"Where did a monkey come from?"

Tillie shook her head. "Tillie is not knowing. Tillie only knows there is one. Stealing Tillie's cigarettes, it is."

"Well, just put it … Hell, I don't know. Give it to Clyde. He's been writing horrible emo poetry ever since the Draco incident, he needs a distraction. Does anyone know where we got a bloody monkey?" All he received were blank stares. "Chalk that one up to the missing night, then."

"And if that's settled," Tonks said, consulting her watch. "You have to go."

"But it's so boring," Harry complained. With a roll of her eyes, Tonks took on a look of concentration, and a moment later Harry brightened. "Really? There?"

"Only if you go. Remus is waiting."

Harry wasted no more time, spinning on his heel and heading out. The last voice he heard from the kitchen was his wife.

"Okay, can anyone tell me how I have a mermaid tattooed on my arse?"

"… And that concludes your financial state as of today," Griphook finished, rolling up a scroll of parchment.

"Yes, yes, I'm filthy rich," Harry muttered, bored beyond belief. These frequent meetings to keep him advised of changes to his fortune and his investments were the worst part of being a powerfully wealthy Lord-Baron. Hermione had originally promised to act as his financial liaison with the goblins. That promise lasted until she encountered the numerous libraries at Gryffindor Sound; had it not been for Ginny, she probably wouldn't emerge for anything but meals. He had kept himself entertained during this one by mental conversations with Tonks, but she was working and threatened to renege on her earlier promise if he didn't stop giving her mental images best suited for Playwizard magazine.

Remus frowned at him. "Any changes you'd like to make, Prongslet? Invest in a new company, perhaps?"

"No, all I want to do is – wait." A stray memory tugged at him, a vow he'd made returning to the forefront of his mind. He had been so busy with smiting and marrying and dragon-riding and just plain sex that he had forgotten all about it. "No. What I would like to do is make some changes to a company I already have. Griphook, do you remember when I asked Kahkblok to secure a seat for me on the board of Grunnings?"

"Indeed."

"Has he done so?"

The goblin flipped through a large ledger. "No, but as majority shareholder you retain the right to call a board meeting at any time."

"Let's do that, then."

Remus looked wary. "What are you planning, Harry?"

"Nothing at all, Remus." Harry put on his calmest, most innocent face, but nothing could tame the wicked gleam in his green eyes. "Just a little visit with my family."

One week later …

"I will NOT!"

Harry reflected that if Uncle Vernon tore any more hair out of his mustache, he was going to bear a remarkable similarity to a certain German fascist dictator. "You really don't have a choice."

"I ruddy well have a CHOICE!" Uncle Vernon roared, his face turning the same purple shade that Harry had seen on Tonks the first time they met. "You listen to me, boy. We took you in, we fed you, we clothed you, and I won't –"

Without moving a muscle Harry had his three relatives silenced and glued to the sofa. "Let me just clear up a few things, Vernon. Oh, by the way, I can do magic out of school now, and I don't even need a wand. That's just one of a few changes that have taken place in my life since we last saw each other. I'll sum them up for you. I've been emancipated, married a hot piece of ass –"

"That would be me," Tonks volunteered from her perch against the windowsill. Dudley took one look and immediately set to drooling as if she were a very shapely steak and kidney pie, while Aunt Petunia spotted the lime green hair and winced.

"– came into a rather large fortune on top of my already enormous wealth – I'm extremely rich, have I ever mentioned that? – was named both a Lord and a Baron as well as Head of five ancient and powerful Houses, gained control of the wizarding legislative body, and discovered I own a house that puts Windsor Castle to shame. And no more fucking glasses! Have I missed anything?"

"Your dragon," supplied Ron, draping his long limbs across a flowery armchair.

Harry snapped his fingers. "I knew I forgot something. That's right, I own a motherfucking dragon. So, what this all means is that one, I'm never coming back here. Two, I can do what I want. And three, I wasn't lying when I said the board of directors at Grunnings requires you to immediately step down as vice-president and assume your new position as Head Coffee-Pourer for all meetings. Amazing what a majority ownership and a lot of gold will accomplish."

Vernon swelled, unable to articulate his anger, and for a moment Harry feared they would have another Aunt Marge incident.

Harry held up his hand. "I'll let you speak, but one word out of place, Vernon …" He left the threat hanging, knowing no matter what he said, his uncle would probably rage anyway.

He was right. "We've put up with a lot since you went to that freak school, but even I never imagined you would show such ingratitude –"

That was enough. "Ingratitude?" Harry repeated in a dangerously calm voice that made both Ron and Tonks perk up and pay attention. "What am I supposed to be grateful for? A dusty cupboard under the staircase? Only spiders for friends? Clothes big enough to fit a small whale? Getting blamed for every single thing that has ever gone wrong in your lives? Daily beatings from my cousin? Lies and insults about my dead parents? You can go fuck yourself with a sideways cactus and a sandpaper condom."

He paused, attempting to gain some control over his rapidly inflating temper. Ron gave him a thumbs-up, while Tonks made no attempt to hide her laughter. All three of his relatives were simply stunned, figuratively speaking.

He waved his hand, releasing them, but he doubted they noticed. "Go pack your shit. You're coming to live with me. Not that I care about you or ever want to see you again, but your presence is beneficial to my safety and the safety of all living in my house. It won't hurt to add one more ward. Now get going."

It took some prodding and judicious wand waving, but in the end all three Dursleys were installed in the basement wing of Gryffindor Sound, alongside the house-elf quarters. When Harry informed Petunia that this was because she would be working with the creatures, she fainted. Dudley, still sulking because his Playstation didn't work, at first seemed rather content to hover around the gargantuan kitchen. Then he met Clyde, who showed the first signs of life in days.

Harry left them to get acquainted, reminding his wife of a certain as yet unfulfilled promise. They were on their way to their bedroom when they passed the War Room, all of their housemates hunched together.

"What's going on?"

Dean waved them over. "Come look, mate. Colin has his pictures developed from your birthday party. You won't believe this!"

Harry and Tonks slipped past the others until they could look over the shoulder of the excitable budding photographer. The next few minutes were filled with gasps, groans, laughter, coughs, gulps, blushing, and taunts.

"How did that fit in there?"

"I don't remember this."

"Why are you yellow?"

"I knew there was a reason my foot hurt."

"Wow, Terry …"

"Never mix that with firewhiskey."

"There's the monkey!"

"Is that Hannah's tooth?"

"So that's how the fire started."

The final picture left utter silence. All eyes were on a Metamorphmagus in the middle of the room.

"Well," Tonks finally said. "That explains a lot."