The people of Hamilton, Scotland, had long ignored the ruins of the castle on the outskirts of town. No one could quite remember what it had been, only that the ruins had been there as long as anyone could remember. As such, no one noticed or cared when four figures appeared suddenly from the mist on the chilly December morning and headed straight for the pile of rubble. And certainly, no one saw the tallest figure, with grey hair and crooked glasses, pull out a piece of paper and hand it to the others to see.
Just as it had happened so many years ago with Grimmauld Place, as soon as Harry read the address on the piece of paper, he looked up and beheld Dagonmire Manor. It almost glimmered in the mist, ethereal and shining. It was not a typical ancient castle. The clean lines of the giant windows glinted in the faint sunlight. Arches melted into with boxy columns in a most spectacular manner. Polished bronze mixed with bright white stucco to create a feast for the eyes.
"I thought you said it was built hundreds of years ago. It looks so much more…modern than any castle I've ever seen," Ginny remarked, shielding her eyes against the reflected sunshine.
"It was. Come on in, I'll explain once we're warm." As James approached the giant front door, it swung open of its own accord and revealed two petite house elves.
"Hello, Master James," said one in a tinkling voice.
"Welcome back, Master James," said the other, in a lower, warmer voice.
"Everyone, meet Fancy and Spicy. They've been here since I was a kid, and you've never met better house elves. Fancy, Spicy, you know my wife, Lily. This is our son, Harry, and Ginny, his fiancée. They're all family, so I'd appreciate it if you treated them as such."
Fancy jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Fancy is always happy to have new family! Fancy and Spicy's been alone for so many years. Come in, come in." The little elves ushered them in and took their coats.
Harry smiled at the elves, and shot James a look. "They're been here alone for all that time? Isn't that a little…cruel?"
James threw his hands up in innocence. "I asked them if they wanted to come with us to Godric's Hollow when my parents died. They wanted to stay here. It's their home as much as it is ours. I checked in on them quite a lot before we went into hiding."
Ginny nodded, taking in her surroundings. "Makes sense to me, just be ready for a lecture from Hermione."
James smiled, and turned to the elves. "Might we have some tea in the sitting room, please, Spicy?"
Spicy nodded, and said, "It is already there, Master James. Spicy brewed Master James' favorite Moroccan orange tea."
"Oh Merlin, thank you so much Spicy. And thank you both for taking care of the house for all of these years. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."
They both bowed to him. "Thank you, Master James," said Fancy, tears welling in her eyes. "Master has grown up so much. Fancy remembers when you was just a little bitty thing."
Spicy rolled her eyes and grabbed Fancy's arm and they disapparated away.
"Follow me," James said, leading them into the room to the right of the entranceway. It was a large room, bright and airy, with tall ceilings. Deep orange-hued Spanish tiles led to the colorfully tiled fireplace, popping and crackling with delight, inviting them to take a seat with enthusiasm. James served them the warm, spicy tea, which shook off any remaining chill.
"The house used to be one of those ancient stone monstrosities, so the story goes. My dad completely rebuilt this place in the '20s, once Sleekeazy took off. He was really into this Muggle style called Art Deco, and flew out an American architect, his name was Frank Lloyd Wright, to completely redesign it. He got in so much trouble with the Ministry, because the architect was a muggle. But Dad thought it was worth it. He adored this house."
"I have to agree with him. It's even more spectacular than I remembered," said Lily.
"Now, I should tell you something important about Fancy and Spicy before I do anything else," he said as he poured. "Fancy and Spicy are not your typical house elves. My parents freed them before I was born, and they stay here because they enjoy being here. You ask them to do something politely, and if they decline, don't give them any flack for it. They're members of the family who just so happen to be house elves, alright?" He fixed them all with a stern look.
"Really? Could I do that with Kreacher? I don't like bossing him around, do you think he'd like being free?" Harry asked him genuinely.
"Maybe," James replied as he handed his son a cup. "You'd have to talk to him. He's pretty set in his ways, though. He might not be open to such an unconventional relationship."
"If they're free, why do they call you Master?" Ginny asked suspiciously.
"If you think you can get them to stop doing that, you'r welcome to try. Some habits just can't be broken, I guess," James replied dryly as he finally took a seat next to the fire.
"Well," said Ginny, taking a hearty gulp of the delicious tea, "I must amend my previous statement. You're in for even worse than a lecture from Hermione."
"And what would that be?" asked Lily.
"An in depth conversation about house elves' rights," Ginny answered, with a shiver.
James led them on a tour of the house, which included 10 bedrooms and 8 bathrooms, an overflowing library, his father's study, a chef's kitchen, a ballroom, and a cozy family living room. Outside, he led them through his mum's garden, the greenhouse, and finally out to the back of the property, where the crown jewel of the property resided. Harry let out a low whistle.
"And here I was, thinking I'd get soft over the hols," said Ginny, grinning wildly.
The overgrown rolling hills flattened out to form a manicured quidditch pitch, with tall gleaming bronze hoops on either side. There was a good sized broom shed on the opposite side of the pitch from them, and a couple of benches for onlookers.
"Is it…?" Ginny whispered, taking a step closer.
"Yep," said James, hands in his pockets. "It's regulation. Mum and Dad put it in when I got on the team second year. They were so proud." He bit his lip and went to inspect the hoop closest to them. Harry and Ginny were busy poking around the shed, so Lily followed him.
"How are you holding up?" Lily caught his hand in hers when she reached him.
He shot her a grimace. "I was fine until we got here. I spent more time on the pitch than in the house anytime I came home from school." He blew out a long breath. "I should have spent more time with them."
Lily leaned against him, and sang into his shoulder. "Don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?"
He smiled down at her. "Don't sing Joni Mitchell at me while I'm trying not to cry."
She giggled, and reached her arms around his middle. "Look at our boy, then. I know it's hard, but you did a good thing, bringing him here." Harry and Ginny were over their heads now, having found two brooms that weren't in bad shape. They tossed a quaffle back and forth, and laughed, teasing each other.
James leaned his head on hers. "I know. I think it's going to be good for me, too. Put some good memories back into the old place."
"That's right," she said, snuggling into his shoulder. A little shiver came over her.
"You're cold," he whispered to her. "We should go in."
"I'm fine," Lily whispered back. "Let the kids play a while longer."
James kissed the part of her hair, and they both clapped and whooped as Ginny scored a goal.
They returned to Grimmauld Place that first day, but returned to stay a week later. They had barely settled in when Weasleys began to arrive in pairs, until the house was positively bursting. For the two weeks surrounding the holiday, Dagonmire Manor was filled with love and joy in a way it hadn't been for years. As the days passed, everyone settled in and enjoyed themselves immensely. Hermione had to be dragged from the library, and Harry wouldn't rest until he'd spoken to every painting of every Potter ancestor. Even Molly had to admit that it was nice to have everything taken care of by someone else, for once.
Once everyone was there, Ginny had to admit it was nice to have her whole family around. Percy even brought his girlfriend, Audrey, and they became instant friends. For Harry, it was reminiscent of those wonderful Christmases spent at Hogwarts, where the holidays became a little bubble that time and worry couldn't penetrate. Fleur announced that she was pregnant at dinner the first night, and George finally admitted to dating Angelina Johnson after a little prodding from James. The drinks flowed like water, and Spicy's cooking was the best any of them had ever had. They were happy days, followed by happier nights.
For the first time that he could remember, Harry woke up early on Christmas morning. The sun was just peeking over the hill outside his window when he kissed Ginny on the cheek and crept down the hall to his parent's room. He tapped on the door gently, and let himself in. Lily blinked at him in the early morning light, smiling when she realized it was her son. James snored on, oblivious to the world. Harry waved to her with a sleeping smile, and Lily gestured for him to come to her.
"Here," she hissed. She handed him a small wrapped box that was on her bedside table. Harry leant and kissed her gently on the cheek.
"Thanks, Mum." He lingered for a second, chewing his lip.
"Everything alright, sweetie?"
"Nah, it's too weird," Harry said, turning to walk away. Lily sat up slowly.
"I'm sure it's not. What is it, Harry?"
He hesitated for a minute before turning back to face her. "I just…when I was little, Dudley would always run into Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's bedroom on Christmas morning to wake them up early. I tried to join him, early on, but they always tossed me out. He got to stay with them in their bed until they decided to get up. It's stupid, I'm too old -"
"Harry," Lily interrupted him gently. "Come here, baby." Harry hesitated, and climbed in next to her. He'd probably get teased mercilessly if anyone ever found out, but while he was snuggling with his mum, he didn't particularly care.
Hours later, bellies full of Spicy's delectable breakfast, they sat around the tree, trading presents. They had started off trying to be organized, but it quickly became chaotic as everyone got tired of waiting to open their presents. When it died down, Harry considered his stack with a wide grin. He'd gotten the customary sweater from Mrs. Weasley, a lovely leather wand holster from Hermione, piles of sweets and knick knacks (because, as George had put it so eloquently, "What the fuck do you get the bloke who saved the world for Christmas?"), and a forest green sweatshirt from Ginny. "Because if I see you in that raggedy black one again, I'm going to scream," she'd said with a sweet smile when he opened it. He watched her face light as she opened the long, skinny box Lily handed her.
"It was my mother's," she explained, as Ginny pulled out the delicate chain, with pearl-sized emeralds every few links. "And it was her mother's before her. It's been passed down through all the ginger women in my family. I was going to give to my daughter, but…well, you might as well be my daughter. If only you two would set a date, already!" Harry chuckled, and Ginny held the box to him.
"Harry, help me put it on? It's beautiful, Mrs. Potter. Thank you so much." She held her hair up so he could do the clasp, and Molly and Hermione came over to ooh and ah over the necklace.
"Gorgeous," Harry whispered, watching her. She side eyed him with a mischievous smile.
"I'm not talking to you, Mr. Potter. You haven't given me a Christmas gift yet."
Harry rolled his eyes. "You don't really think I forgot, do you? Even I'm not that dumb." He pulled the little box out from behind the tree, where he'd stashed it earlier that day.
Ginny scooted over on the floor to sit beside him. "More jewelry? You should know better, Harry, I only wear the stuff on special occasions."
He smirked, and handed her the little box. "I think you'll have good reason to wear this fairly often."
She glared back suspiciously, and tore off the paper. Opening the little wooden box revealed two plain, gleaming silver bands, with ancient runes inscribed all the way around on the outside. Ginny removed the smaller band, and it seemed to pulse with energy.
"What are these, Harry?" Ginny held it up to the light, and Hermione leaned over to read the inscription.
"Love is not blind, but allows you to see more than others," Hermione translated slowly. "That's not just a quote, though, it's got magic attached to it."
"Dad gave them to me. They're wedding bands," Harry said with a small smile.
"They were my parent's," James explained. "They got pretty famous for a while, with Sleekeazy, and then they fought with Dumbledore against Grindlewald. They were actually captured by Grindlewald, and were held at Nurmengard for months," he paused for the gasps that followed. "They needed new wedding rings because theirs were taken while they were there, so my dad made these. Forged them himself, and came up with the spell on them. It…well, actually, why don't you see for yourself? Put them on," he gestured to Harry and Ginny.
They traded a look and shrugged. Ginny put on the ring she was holding, while Harry took the one still in the box. The rings shrunk and expanded to fit them perfectly, as all magical rings did. Nothing happened.
"Okay, now turn the ring to the left," James said, a smile blooming on his face.
They both did, and everyone watching gasped in delight.
"I don't think anything happened," said Harry.
"He doesn't think anything happened," said George dismissively. "You're only bloody invisible, mate!"
Harry and Ginny looked at each other.
"What are you talking about?" said Ginny, "I can still see him."
"Exactly!" James exclaimed. "The wearers can see each other, but no one else can. And to turn it off, you just twist the ring to the right. You can use them on your own, too, and as long as you're wearing the ring, you'll still be able to see each other. My dad said that it was as much for his peace of mind as it was for safety."
"That's wicked, Dad! Thank you so much." Harry waved his hand in Ron's face, who had no idea that his best friend was anywhere near him.
"Yes, thank you so much, Mr. Potter! These are going to completely change our lives." Ginny sat staring at the ring on her finger in disbelief, and turned it to the right. Taking it off, indeed, Harry disappeared, and she could see him once more when she put it back on.
Harry took his off and put it back in the box. "Are you sure you don't want them, Mum and Dad?"
"Nah," Lily waved him off. "No more hiding remember, kid?"
"Besides, if you have the rings, there's no more reason to put off the wedding." James smirked at them as everyone laughed at their blushing faces.
Where their Christmas dinner had been cozy and intimate, the feast that awaited them all on New Year's Eve was one to put all other feasts to shame. It was, after all, the beginning of a new millennium, and the elves had outdone themselves accordingly. They'd rung in the new year at midnight with plenty of boozy kisses and hugs, and only a few stragglers were left. Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, George, and Arthur sat in the family room, nursing their drinks around the fire.
Harry pouted at Ginny, who was sleeping with her head was in his lap. "I don't want to go back to Grimmauld Place tomorrow."
"Mate," Ron hiccuped, "If I had a house like this, you'd never catch me outside again. 'Cept on the Quidditch pitch, I guess."
"Nah, tha's a lie. You'd have to put up with that all the time," Harry shot back, pointing to Hermione. She was once again cornering Fancy, questioning the poor elf.
"Oh, bloody - Oi! Mione, let the poor thing go, she's had a long night." Hermione, flushed red from the alcohol in her system, stumbled over and plopped herself on Ron's knee.
"Oh shuddup," she slurred at him. "Don tell me whatta do."
"Oh, yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it?" Ron picked her up, making her squeak. "I think it's time we call it a night, guys. Ms. Lightweight here is ready to go to bed."
As he carried her up the stairs, the onlookers cackled while Hermione yelled at Ron, "No! No! I'm not a Miss anymore, I'm married! Tha's Mrs. Lightweight to you!"
"Hey, Harry," George said, once Ron and Hermione were gone. "I've been thinking, and one thing doesn't make sense about this whole thing with your parents." He put up a single finger, belched, and continued. "I thought you only survived Voldy's curse as a kid because your mum died for you. Guess ole Dumbledore got that one wrong, eh?"
George laughed as the rest of the room sat in stumped silence.
"I wish I had an answer for that one, George," Harry replied with a sigh. George patted him on the shoulder consolingly, and went upstairs to bed. Harry was surprised when Arthur took the empty seat next to him.
"I've actually been thinking about that myself," the older man told him quietly. "You know, we tried to formally adopt you a few times. Of course, now with you and Ginny, I'm glad it didn't work out, but at the time, it just broke Molly's heart. We couldn't stand seeing you with those monsters. But Dumbledore kept saying it had to be that way, that their blood would protect you better than our magic."
Harry gaped at him. "I never knew that. You really wanted me to be part of your family?"
"Don't be silly," Arthur scoffed at him, "You've been part of the family since the boys brought you back in the car after your first year. What we wanted was to get you away from your Aunt and Uncle." He shook his head. "One of the only things I regret in my entire life was not fighting harder for you. If I'd known then just how much we'd all owe you one day…nothing could have stopped me. Not even Dumbledore."
"What do you think then?" Harry asked the older man.
"About what?" Arthur swirled his firewhiskey, considering the tornado it created.
"About how I should have died, the first time around. How did I survive if Mum didn't die willingly?"
Arthur sat for a moment, then finished his drink in one gulp. He got up to leave. Harry thought he wasn't going to get an answer. Suddenly, Arthur turned back.
"You know, she did make a sacrifice for you, Harry. She may not have died, but she did sacrifice her life." Arthur shrugged. "That's the best I can come up with. Or maybe it was just fate. Or maybe that fella the Muggles talk about all the time, what's his name? Made the animals and the trees, took a nap on Sunday?"
Harry chuckled. "God. His name's God."
Arthur shrugged. "Maybe he did it. No use worrying about it now that's it's all said and done. You've just got to be grateful and move forward, I say."
Harry nodded, and turned back to the fireplace.
"And Harry?" Arthur called from the hallway. "No funny business with my daughter tonight!"
Trying not to wake Ginny up, Harry laughed and called back, "Of course not, sir!"
He stayed up for a while, considering what Arthur had said, before he roused Ginny and dragged up upstairs to the master suite.
On January 1st, 2000, they awoke with head-splitting hangovers, and got ready to head back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry dawdled in the doorway, saying his goodbyes to Fancy and Spicy. He took in the entranceway, with its floor to ceiling mirrors, sparkling chandelier, and show-stopping curved staircase leading to the upper levels. His heart pounded. It felt rather rude to leave the house and the elves all alone again. This house was meant to be inhabited, to be lived in. He could picture himself chasing little red and black-haired children down the stairs, teaching them to fly in the regulation pitch round the back, hiding away from the unfriendly world in this little piece of heaven. Filling out paperwork in his grandfather's study, full of his strange schematics and untested potion recipes, while Ginny hummed in the family room across the hall. Years and years and years of happy Dagonmire Christmases.
A soft tug on his jacket sleeve roused him from his daydream. "Come on, love, we've got to get going."
"Hold on, Gin," he said softly. "Just take one last look. Does this place remind you of anything?"
She giggled softly. "Well, I suppose I'll never get the image of your Dad and George sliding down that banister on Christmas morning out of my head, no matter how hard I try."
Harry moved behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I was thinking more like…it reminded me of how I feel when I'm with you."
"And how's that, Mr. Potter?" She leaned back against him, swaying slightly.
Harry rested his head on her shoulder, and closed his eyes, trying to take a mental snapshot of the moment. "Like I'm home."