[A/N: Well, here we are folks. I hope you won't mind me taking a moment to indulge myself with one last author's note. I can't really believe I finally finished this story, which I've written over the span of about ten years. (EDIT: I'm a dumbass who didn't realize until hours later that I posted this a year and literally ONE DAY after I originally published the first chapter. Sometimes, I astound myself.) I know it shows from chapter to chapter, so I apologize for the lack of consistency. I know there are mistakes, I've tried to fix as many plot holes as I can, but sometimes I found it hard to change words I wrote when I was a kid. Not much of a defense, but it's the truth. I hope you'll forgive my sentimentality.
I've been debating splitting this chapter in two, since it's so long, but in the end, I think it's just time for me to end it. I wrote the latter half almost a month ago now, and I've been building up to it ever since, so I'm really excited to share it. I hope you'll like it as much as I do. In fact, I hope you enjoyed the entire thing as much as I did, because it's been a really fun journey to figure out who I am as a writer at this point in time. And I hope you know that I really appreciate anyone who reads this, and enjoys it, even in silence. So, without further ado, I give you this extra long final chapter of the Staircase Time Froze.]
The morning of May 3rd, 2000, dawned bright and full of promise. James and Lily woke up early, and ambled downstairs to have breakfast. They sat in silence, Lily with her coffee, James with his tea, as they shared the Daily Prophet. Harry joined them a half hour later, just as Kreacher was setting breakfast on the table.
"Ah!" James exclaimed, causing Harry to flinch. "There he is, the man of the hour! Did you sleep well?"
Harry stared back at his father blankly. "Not really, no. Couldn't sleep until I'd thrown up a couple times, and then I had nightmares. This was such a stupid idea, why did we pick today of all days?"
"It's not stupid, darling. You said it yourself, it's symbolic. Your 'rebirth,' and all that. The stupid part of it was letting Ron plan your bachelor party," Lily said, folding the paper and setting it next to her. "Look at this. When's the last time you saw your picture in the Prophet?" She slid it over to him.
Sure enough, his own face grinned back at him, with a wide, genuine smile. Ginny stood next to him, sweaty and exhausted, but madly grinning as well, in her Holyhead Harpies robes. It had been taken after her first match with the Harpies. It was one of his favorites, and when Luna had asked him for a picture of the two of them, both he and Ginny agreed it was the one. The headline above read A Wedding Fit for Magical Royalty. Harry chuckled, and gratefully accepted the cup of coffee Lily poured him.
"Nah, Ron did a good job. I was the stupid one. I knew it was going to be memorials and speeches all day yesterday. I knew I was going to drink too much last night, and I knew no one was going to stop me. Ginny deserves better," Kreacher laid out a full English breakfast in front of him, and Harry's stomach squelched. He swallowed hard, and shakily reached for a plain piece of toast instead.
"Well, lucky for you, she doesn't want any better. Take this, and stop being so hard on yourself." Lily slid a vial to him from across the table. Harry abandoned his toast and reached greedily for the hangover potion. Almost immediately, his head stopped pounding, his stomach stabilized, and he felt ready to take on the day.
Finally tucking into his plate, Harry said between chews, "You really could have joined us last night, Dad. You would've enjoyed it."
"No," scoffed James. "Nobody wants their dad at their bachelor party. What did Ron have planned anyway?"
Harry shrugged. "He got a bunch of our mates together from the DA, plus a couple aurors, and he rented out the Three Broomsticks. We drank, and we talked, we played some card games. Somehow, we ended up breaking into Hogwarts and having a bit of a fly around the quidditch pitch. Stupid gits, the whole lot of us. It's a lot smaller than I remember it being." Harry sat back in his chair. "I think Seamus fell and lost a tooth."
Lily bit back a laugh as James threw his head back and had a full belly guffaw. Meanwhile, very disheveled Ginny came in, and plopped down next to Harry.
"What're you doing here?" James demanded jovially. "I thought you were supposed to spend tonight at Dagonmire."
"She was," Harry said, getting up to fetch Ginny a hangover potion from the kitchen cabinet. "The girls had the same idea of going for a fly at Hogwarts, one thing led to another…" Harry blushed and handed her the small vial. "It's just a silly superstition, anyway."
Lily and James both giggled. "I guess tradition is nothing to the Boy Who Lived," Lily said, eyes twinkling.
"Oh shove off," muttered Harry, without any real weight behind it. The four ate in silence for a while. Finally Ginny stood up, looking a whole lot brighter than when she sat down.
"I'd better go, Mum must be off her rocker at this point," she sighed. "Of course, she'll be glad to have a reason to yell 'Ginevra Molly Weasley!' one last time. Guess you could say that it's my wedding present to her." Harry chuckled, and she dipped down to give him a kiss before apparating away.
"Well, not getting cold feet, are you?" Lily asked as James collected their plates.
"Nah," said Harry confidently. "I'm absolutely sure I want to get married to Ginny. I just want to get through today, and get on with it, already."
A couple hours later, Harry stepped out of the fireplace at Dagonmire, brushing soot from his t-shirt. James was just a moment behind him. Harry had been able to keep his cool this morning, as he finished sewing up a few loose ends before the wedding. Trust Havenhurst, the Head Auror, to keep him swimming in paperwork right up til he left for his honeymoon.
Now that he was finally at Dagonmire, where the wedding was begin held, Harry felt like his stomach was a classroom full of loose pixies. Of course, this time, there was no Lockheart to hold accountable. He let out a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, as he and his father ascended the staircase.
"Doing alright, Harry?" James asked him warily.
"Oh yeah, just a bit nervous," he replied with a forced smile. James put a steadying hand on his son's shoulder once they reached the landing.
"I'd tell you I gets better, but the truth is that this day is not going to be any easier until it's over. Then it's just you and her for two weeks in Madrid. You can relax then." James winked at him, and opened the door to his room.
"Gee thanks, Dad," Harry muttered under his breath, and followed him in.
Since Ginny and her bridesmaids were getting ready in the master suite, the men were congregated in James' childhood bedroom. The walls were plastered with Quidditch posters for Puddlemere United. The room was spacious, even with a full sized bed in the middle. Currently, the bed was occupied by Ron, who was lying on his back in his dress robes, groaning, with one hand shielding his eyes. George was standing over him, tittering.
"Oi, George, what've you done to my best man?" Harry called jovially as they entered.
"I have nothing to do with this, oh Groom-Who-Lived. Or maybe, the Chosen Groom? Anyway, Ronniekins is just hungover. He'll be fine as long as he manages not to upchuck on Ginny's dress." Harry looked at Ron pityingly. Like the true best mate he was, Ron had matched him drink for drink last night. Not that either of them were lightweights, but if Ron felt anything like Harry had earlier that day, he didn't envy his best friend at the moment.
"And I'm guessing he didn't take a hangover potion?"
"Nah," George grinned conspiratorially. "Apparently, he got a little fresh with Hermione when he came home last night, so she dumped their whole stock before he woke up as payback. I thank Merlin every day it's him married to her and not me. She may be good looking, but she can be an absolute terror when she's angry!"
Ron swung his arm in George's direction limply. "That's my wife you're talking about, you git!" The threat didn't quite land, seeing as he was still flat on his back, with his other hand sheltering his eyes.
"Lucky for you, Ron," James said, sauntering over to a cabinet in the corner of the room, "My mum had similar ideas when she caught Sirius and I drinking one too many times. Here, catch." He gently tossed a small vial onto the bed. Ron made no motion to catch, but once the vial hit is leg, he grabbed it and took it like a shot. By the time he stuck the stopper back in the bottle, Ron was sighing in relief.
"Wish I'd had a secret stash of hangover potions in school. Course, n-neither of us was particularly good at potions," George said, with a tone of mixed hesitancy and bravado that had become his calling card in the last couple of years.
James slugged an arm around the younger man's neck, ignoring his stumble. "Wish I could say I did it, but I was crap at potions too. Lily whipped me up a batch summer before seventh year. She's a lifesaver."
"Is Neville here yet?" Harry kept his tone light as he pulled his black dress robes from armoire. With a nonverbal spell and a shake, they were wrinkle-free, and he began to get changed.
"Yeah," Ron said, leaning on the bed with his legs crossed. "He's out back in the garden, of course. I can't decide if he just wanted to sneak in a song with Hannah, or if he actually wanted to see the plants.
Harry snorted as he buttoned his shirt. "Probably a bit of both, knowing Neville."
In the master suite, things were not quite as relaxed. Ginny found herself really wishing that she'd picked Luna instead of Hermione as her Maid of Honor. She'd been looking forward to the older girl's penchant for organization coming in handy on the big day, but it was beginning to border on obsession.
"Hurry it up, will you? Her hair was supposed to be done four minutes ago!" Hermione snapped at Pavarti, who was patiently curling Ginny's hair around her steaming wand.
"Cut it out, Hermione! If I burn her, it's all your fault." Pavarti shot back tensely.
Ginny, careful not to move her head, met her old friend's eyes in the mirror. "Hermione, it's going to take the time it takes. We asked Pavarti to do my hair because she knows what she's doing. This is the last thing before I put the dress on, and then I'll be ready to go. Please, I'm begging you, just put down the clipboard, have a glass of champagne, and calm down!"
Hermione looked down at her closest female friend, and sighed. Ginny, even with half-curled hair and a ratty dressing gown on, was the picture-perfect radiant bride. She'd told Hermione a hundred times, that whatever happened today, happened, but Hermione refused to be so cavalier about one of the most important days in her best friends' lives. "I'm just worried about the time. We've got hundreds of people waiting for you out there, and no one else seems to be worried about staying on schedule -"
"That's because we're not!" Fleur called dryly from the bed, raising her champagne flute to her lips and finishing it with a pointed look. Hermione frowned at the beautiful woman, looking especially stunning in the floaty gold taffeta dress Ginny had picked out for her bridesmaids. The other bridesmaids, Luna Lovegood and Angelina Johnson, looked amazing in the dresses as well. Hermione felt like a deep fried chicken wing in hers. Luna sat next to Fleur, happily French braiding Angelia's hair.
"Well-well someone's got to be!" Hermione huffed, feeling the familiar pressure behind her eyes.
"Hermione," Ginny said, exasperated, and trying very hard not to be mean. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. But you know Harry and I don't care about some barmy schedule. As long as we get married, we're really not bothered about how today goes. And I adore you, but if you rile me up on my wedding day, you're have hell to pay when we get back. Now sit down and have a fucking drink, or I'm never talking to you again."
Hermione sighed, and took a seat next to Luna.
"There!" Luna said, tying off Angelina's braid with a shimmery ribbon. "Take a look."
Angelina leaned over Ginny in the mirror and inspected Luna's handiwork. "Not bad," she remarked. "It's a shame George'll mess it up later. Thanks, Luna, I never could have pulled off something this good."
Luna beamed at her. "No problem! I like braiding other people's hair. It's so much more fun than braiding mine alone."
Fleur handed Hermione a full champagne flute and tipped her head at Ginny. "I wish I 'ad been that relaxed about my wedding."
Hermione sent her a small smile, and took a sip. "I suppose getting married in a war zone would make anyone anxious."
Fleur raised an eyebrow at the younger woman. "No more than getting married seex months after getting together."
"Yeah," Hermione flushed, "I suppose it was breaking off a bit more than we could chew. If we'd waited this long, I might be a little more relaxed as well."
"And tell me, do you remember your wedding day?"
Hermione wracked her brain for a moment. "I guess…not really. I remember that it was a chilly day, and Ron looked really good. My dress was itchy. I remember the honeymoon," she said with a distant smile.
"Mm-hmm." Fleur refilled their glasses with a small stream of champagne from the tip of her wand. "The being married is more important that the day. Eet is the same with childbirth. You will see."
"I know…but if she's not out in time, the band will start to play before she walks down the aisle. What if Harry thinks she's not coming? I don't want to ruin this day for him!"
"Non," Fleur waved this away dismissively. "Harry ees a smart man. You are worrying for nothing. Besides, the hair ees important for the pictures. She'd never forgive you if you messed up her wedding pictures."
Hermione looked at Ginny, calmly laughing with Pavarti, resembling a Grecian goddess with her hair tumbling down in waves, and shivered. She'd read enough mythology to know that Greek goddesses weren't to be messed with, either.
Just then, there was a knock at the door. Hermione pounced, happy to have something to do.
"She's almost ready, just a couple more minutes, please!" Hermione called through the door in her Prefect voice.
"It's just me!" called the voice on the other side. Hermione hurriedly opened the door, and let in Molly Weasley, holding a tray of sandwiches.
"Thank you, darling. Eat up, ladies. Dinner isn't for a while, and you never quite eat enough at a wedding." She brought one over on a napkin to Ginny. "Especially you, my dear. The bride and groom practically starve at a wedding."
"Thanks, Mum." Ginny smiled up at her mother, and took a small bite, trying to avoid smudging her make up.
Standing behind her in the mirror, Ginny saw Molly's eyes well up once again. "Mum," she tried not to whine, "Please stop. You know once you cry, I start crying, and I don't want to cry before the pictures!"
"Ginny, dear, asking me not to cry today is like asking your father not to mess with muggle things," Molly said thickly. "My only little girl is getting married! And our dear Harry will finally be a family member. I just looked in on him, he looks so handsome, Ginny."
Ginny smiled to herself. "Well, that's to be expected, he's a handsome man."
"And you're a beautiful young lady. I don't know if I've told you that enough." Molly concentrated on straightening the collar of Ginny's robe before meeting her eyes in the mirror.
"I know, Mum. It is nice to hear it, though." A single tear skittered down her face before she had a chance to stop it. "Oh, damn it, Mum, you're making me cry. Could you…could you run and get my shoes? I think I might have left them at Grimmauld Place." Molly nodded quickly, and left.
"You can borrow mine if you want, Ginny, I hate heels anyway," said Angelina, excitedly kicking off her golden pumps.
Ginny dabbed her eyes delicately and smiled. "No thanks, Ang, I just needed to get her out of here before I started sobbing." She stuck a heeled foot out from behind the vanity as proof. Angelina tried to hide the disappointment on her face as she collected her heels from the floor.
Almost as soon as Mrs. Weasley had left, there was another knock at the door. This time, Luna jumped up and opened it.
"Oh hello Harry, would you like to come in?"
"NO!" Hermione shouted, "He's not supposed to see her before the wedding, remember?"
Ginny heard Harry chuckle from the other side of the door. "Might be a little bit late for that, Hermione. No, could you give her something from me, though? Just a little present."
"Harry James Potter, we said no presents!" Ginny called to him from the vanity, startling Pavarti, and earning Ginny a very nasty look from her erstwhile hairdresser.
"Well, it's a good thing it's not really a present then!" Harry called back to her. She could see the edge of his dress robes peeking out from the other side of the door, and a shiver of excitement went up her spine. They were really doing this, really getting married. "It's from my Mum. There's a muggle saying that every bride should have something old, something new
-"
"Something borrowed, something blue! I can't believe I forgot, I could kick myself." Hermione interrupted.
"Why's that? Is it to ward off Iktopomps? They hate anything blue," Luna asked Harry.
"Er…I don't know really. It might be. Don't worry Hermione, Mum says if she's still planning on wearing the necklace, everything else is in the present." Ginny tried to hide her smile as she listened. Out of everyone in their circle, Harry was always the kindest to Luna, and it was one of the features of his personality that she liked the best.
"Please tell her 'thank you' from me, Harry, that was very sweet of her!" Ginny said towards the door.
Luna brought back the little box Harry handed her back to Ginny, who removed the cardboard top with shaky hands. On a bed of fluff lay a little note. Ginny opened it first, trying not to look at what was underneath it.
Dear Ginny,
My mum always told me to treasure seeing a blue jay. They represent truth, faithfulness, and solidarity, as they mate for life. I could not imagine a better mate for Harry, now that I know the two of you. Giving him away to you today doesn't feel like giving him away at all, because as long as we've known him, he's always been yours. Please remember that you're both young. Be good to each other. I know you will, because I know you, but I feel like I'm supposed to be giving you advice. Remember the blue jay, then: try to always tell the truth, have faith in each other, and stick together, no matter what life throws at you. Just take care of my boy. I know, he thinks he can take care of himself, but you know that's not true. And don't be afraid to knock some sense into him every now and then, he needs it. Oh, and I want my new comb back after all of this. It is supposed to be 'borrowed', after all.
Lots of love,
Lily.
Ginny chuckled, and finally checked to see what was under the note. It was an old fashioned hair comb, the kind meant to stay in your hair. It was wooden, and at the very top was a carving of a blue jay, painted blue, with a white belly and a little black dot for an eye. Ginny looked at it for a minute, before handing it back to Pavarti.
"Can you figure out a nice spot for this, Pavarti?"
"Ooh, beautiful. Actually, I think this will work perfectly."
Pavarti worked for a minute in silence, before speaking up again. "How is it, having his parents around all of a sudden? Must be very weird."
"Yeah," Ginny sighed, "It's weird, but good. They've been with us…Merlin, almost a year, now. They're great people, I get on with them well. But it's different for him, obviously. I'm happy for him. It's kind of like - like he's getting to have this childhood he missed out on. I mean, not really, but they're certainly trying to make up for lost time."
Pavarti's hands slowed. "Oh yeah, I guess he didn't really have much of a childhood, huh? I never really thought about that before. Turn around."
Ginny obliged. "I can tell it's making a big difference in his recovery. I think he might have been trying to forget about the war for a while, pretend like nothing ever happened. But now that they're here, he kind of has to be reminded that everything really did happen, every time he sees them. He's been facing more of it head on. Harry was faking at being happy before, but I think he really is, now."
Pavarti smiled at her. "That's good, Ginny. I'm glad. Okay, take a look."
Ginny turned back to the mirror and smiled widely. Her hair fell in gentle waves, swept off to one side by the comb, swooping out dramatically on the other side. Pavarti reached around and touched up her brick-colored lipstick.
"I think I'm ready to put on the dress now."
Harry's heart beat out of his chest as he stood on the platform set up on one end the quidditch pitch. Hundreds of people shifted in their seats and talked to each other while they watched him sweat, waiting for Ginny to appear. He'd long ago accepted that this couldn't be a private ceremony, with just family and friends, unless they wanted to elope. No, Harry Potter's Wedding had be the society event of the year, unless he wanted to offend everyone who worked at the Ministry. Truth be told, he was fine with offending every single one of them, down to the interns, but Kingsley had told him privately that once Havenhurst was gone, he was backing Harry take over as Head Auror. It wouldn't be for years, surely, but being head of the department was the only way to enact the big changes he'd been planning since he joined. The aurors weren't as corrupt as other departments, but there were some people he'd feel good about firing, and some policies that Harry considered inhumane. Being Head Auror would be a big step in the direction of restructuring the Ministry. Thus, staying in their collective good graces was the way to go.
He shook the annoying thoughts from his mind. No politics today, he reminded himself. He focused instead on trying to find friendly faces in the crowd. Luckily, his parents were right up front, with Sarah and Patricia Albright, and Andromeda and Teddy. Lily even had Teddy in her lap, and even from up on the platform, Harry could see the mix of happiness and grief that passed over her face as she looked down at the little boy. Unbidden, his mind flashed back to her grief in the basement, when she had discovered the dead cat in the place of her son. Harry hurriedly blinked it away and turned his attention across the aisle.
Mrs Weasley sat in the front row with a disgruntled look on her face, but smiled when she noticed Harry looking at her, and blew him a kiss. Much to the chagrin of the stuffy officiant behind him, he caught it, and pressed it to his heart. Harry waved to Charlie and Percy who were the only Weasleys currently beside her. Charlie had brought a friend from Romania, and Percy sat next to his girlfriend, Audrey. The DA was scattered between sides of the aisle, and Harry waved to a few of them. Even Cho was there, and she gave him a warm smile when he looked her way. He looked a bit further back, and couldn't ignore Hagrid in the back row, no doubt not wanting to obstruct anyone's view. A couple seats away from him, a couple was taking their seats, somewhat hesitantly. Could it be…?
Yes, it was. Harry hesitantly waved, and Dudley waved back. He hadn't expected his cousin to actually show up, it was more of a courtesy invite than anything else. He laughed to himself, wondering what on earth had possessed Dudley to show up to his wedding, and more importantly, what story he had told his date to make sense of all the oddly dressed people. He's have to make sure someone was in charge of obliviating the poor girl before she left.
He was politely nodding to an older man he vaguely recognized from the Hall of Records when the music finally started up. He smoothed his shaky, sweaty hands on his robes, desperately wanting it all to be over already.
Meanwhile, just over the hill, Hermione was arranging the procession.
"Alright, we've got George and Angelina coming in first, then Neville and Luna. Neville, 'line up' means line up, not stand wherever you please!" Her husband scrubbed his face in aggravation.
"Hermione, nobody else will say it, but you're acting mental, luv. Would you please-"
"Ronald Bilius Weasley, if you tell me to calm down, I swear I'll divorce you on the spot," she shot back, tone calm, but eyes wild.
Ron just sighed. "Can't say I didn't try, folks."
Hermione ignored him and got back to the task at hand. "After Neville and Luna, we've got Mr. Potter and Fleur, followed by me and Ron. Then Bill and Victoire are on flower girl duty, and finally, Arthur and Ginny. Chop chop, people! Let's go!" She walked down the line of couples, doing last minute fixes.
"Hermione? We've got an issue back here," Ron called out as she was fixing Neville's collar. She hurried down to him, but saw nothing amiss. Ron pulled her in to her spot next to him, and dipped down to steal a kiss.
"That's better. My partner went rogue, but I found her." Hermione blushed, glaring at him.
"Just because you're not taking your job seriously, Ronald-"
"Job? My job is taking down death eaters, this is my best friend's wedding! Whatever you think-"
Arthur just shook his head, watching Ron and Hermione fall into an easy bickering. Since they'd married, the venom had gone out of most of their fights, as if now, they merely did it out of habit. He turned to Ginny, to share a knowing look with her, but she was focusing on a spot in space.
"Ginny?" Arthur said lightly. She came back to reality, and gave him a forced smile.
"Is it time yet?" Her voice was higher than normal.
"Just about," Arthur answered warmly. They stood for a moment in comfortable silence.
"Are you…uh, are you nervous?" Arthur suggested.
"I'm fine, why do you ask?" She didn't look him in the eye, vigorously tapping a spot on her nose that she desperately wanted to itch.
Arthur smiled down at his only daughter, the young woman he knew better than any other. "Eh, I guess it's just what one's supposed to ask a bride at her wedding. You look very pretty, by the way. So much like your mum on our wedding day. Of course, she made her dress."
Ginny allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. "So I've heard a million times. And she baked the cake, and you built the arch." She straightened her back, hoping to crack a few bones for some small relief. "I guess I am a little nervous. I just want this to be over so I can go back to my normal life. I never wanted anything this big."
"It will be, soon, peanut." Ginny blushed at the use of her childhood nickname as her dad patted her hand. "Just try to enjoy some of it."
She was considering his words when the music started playing. It seemed like it took forever for the other couples to walk down the aisle. When Bill led little Victoire away, she forced herself to breathe, to remember how to walk. Ginny was more grateful than ever to have her dad by her side, keeping her steady, as she came up and over the hill towards the quidditch pitch. She breathing hitched when she caught sight of the huge group assembled, which felt like way more people than she had agreed to. She hung on to her father's arm with her free hand as well, trying to just focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
By the time she reached the congregation, she could finally make out Harry's face watching her every move. As soon as she met his eyes, she almost wished she hadn't. She'd made it so far without crying, but Harry was already far gone. His cheeks were wet, and she had to laugh at the childlike joy on his face as he saw her. In that moment, she just wanted to grab him and disapparate away as fast as they could. He didn't have on the mask he so often did in public. He wasn't the Boy Who Lived in that moment, he was her private Harry, and that boy wasn't a gift she wanted to share with anyone else. He was vulnerable, needed to be protected from the vultures seated all around her. She smiled back shyly, forcing herself to stay by her father's side, slowly trudging down the aisle.
Finally, they reached the base of the platform, and her father turned to her. He delicately kissed her forehead through her veil, and she hugged him as tight as she could. He gave her a hand to support herself as she went up the steps, then suddenly was gone. Ginny glanced at the crowd, and regretted it immediately. She just had to walk over to Harry, and this whole circus would be that much closer to being finished.
Finally, the distance between them closed, and she breathed properly for the first time that day.
The tinkling of silverware on china was beginning to grate Harry's nerves to a fine dust. He and Ginny still hadn't started on their food, but were instead making the rounds, greeting everyone. The ballroom of Dagonmire Manor was full to bursting with little round tables, and they were barely halfway done.
The reception turned out to be just as bad as the ceremony. Knowing how the couple valued their privacy, none of the speeches were very personal, although Ron and Hermione promised more in-depth toasts after their honeymoon. The first dance had been lovely, although they'd been forced to dance with almost everyone in attendance afterwards. The dancing wasn't even that enjoyable, since the wedding planner had insisted that a string quartet would be the best way to go. Harry politely extricated his new wife from what looked like an excruciating conversation with a dull colleague of Percy's. Grabbing her hand, he gently pulled her to the edge of the room, into the hallway.
"Harry, what're you doing? We're supposed to be in there -"
Harry did what he's been wanting to do ever since he first saw her in that gorgeous dress: he pulled her close and kissed her hard, one hand in her soft hair. She responded immediately, pulling him closer and slipping her hands around his middle underneath his dress robes. He eventually pulled away regretfully.
"I'm so sorry, Gin. We really should have eloped, this is horrid."
She laughed, finally feeling relaxed. "It really is, isn't it?"
Harry looked back towards the ballroom hesitantly. "Think they'd notice if we just…didn't come back?"
"I have a feeling they might," Ginny smirked, tugging him closer by his lapels. She kissed him again, this time softer and slower. When she finally pulled away, he left his forehead resting on hers. The quiet was comforting, the only thing audible their panted breaths.
"Alright, let's do it," Ginny whispered.
"Right here? What if someone walks by?"
"No, stupid! Let's leave. I hate this, you hate this, there's no point in being here anymore. We've done the ceremony, and all the boring speeches, and every other idiotic thing you're supposed to do at your wedding. Let's just go." Her eyes sparkled, and a smile was spreading on his face.
"God, I love you, Ginny." Not for the first or last time in their lives, Harry grabbed her hand and together, they ran.
They flopped on the bed in their rented cottage several hours later. Since they left so much earlier than expected, they'd abandoned the portkey in favor of flying. Harry was sure he'd never have a better memory than seeing Ginny, white dress whipping behind her, whooping exuberantly as they traded stunts back and forth over the Spanish coastline. He pondered that she had somehow become even more beautiful than she had been earlier. Her cheeks were pink from the wind, her hair was thoroughly mussed, and she was smiling that genuine Ginny smile she reserved just for him.
"You know," Harry said breathlessly, "I'm going to be in so much trouble, and I don't even care."
"Oh, just you? I suppose you think Mum's going to let me off the hook for leaving my own wedding early?"
Harry laughed lazily. "I suppose not just me. They can hardly blame us, though. Everyone else got to have nice, intimate weddings, while ours was practically a United Nations meeting. I wish we could have written our own vows."
"We still could," Ginny sat up straight.
"What do you mean?"
"It's still our wedding day. What do you wish you'd vowed to me today?"
Harry sat up as well, and took her hands in his. "I vow…that I'll always love you, Ginny. You're the love of my life, and my partner in crime. Sometimes literally," he said, as they both laughed. "I, uh…there was a long time when I never thought I'd make it to twenty, and I don't know that I would have without you. You may not have been on the hunt with us, but I did it all for you. I was thinking of you every moment, and it was worth it. Every single bit of it. You're worth it, Ginny. I don't tell you that enough. You've made my life worth living, and I'll never forget that."
Giny smiled timidly, finally allowing tears to fall. "I wish you had said that, too. Thank you, Harry."
"What about you, what did you want to say?"
"I…I didn't really want to say anything. I wanted to get here as fast as we could and avoid it altogether."
"But what if it had been our perfect little wedding? What would you have said then?" Harry played with the rings on her finger, thinking that it was a sight he'd never tire of seeing.
"I might have said a lot of things. Um…anyone who knows me, knows that I've loved you my whole life. I think I always knew that you'd love me back eventually, too. It felt sometimes like fate did awful things just to bring us together. Almost like I got the diary just because it would lead me to you, or Umbridge came just so the DA would form. Or Katie Bell got hurt just so we could play quidditch together. That's not…I know that's ridiculous, but I'm trying to say that I don't think anything could have stopped us being together. Voldemort himself was no match for our love. Merlin, that's corny. Fuck, I wish I'd had time to write this out and get it just right! Yours was so good."
Harry cradled her face in his hands, and brought his mouth to hers. "No, Gin. It's perfect. You're perfect."
Just as things were getting more heated, an owl swooped through the window and dropped a letter.
"What in the-? How did they find us already?" Harry, now shirtless, groaned as he got up to fetch the letter.
Ginny wiped her mouth and adjusted the skinny strap of her dress. "Well, they did know we'd end up here eventually."
"Oh come on! It's a fucking howler. Looks like Hermione's handwriting. She can really be mental sometimes."
"Shut up! Are you serious?" She rushed to his side to see for herself. "Damn. I know she means well, but honestly, that's a bit much."
Harry sighed, and his mouth curled as his had an idea. "I think it's about time we finally got something to eat, don't you, Mrs. Potter?"
Ginny laughed, and clung to his hand. "I'm ready if you are."
ONE YEAR LATER
Harry carried the heavy mahogany rocking chair up the stairs to the nursery. Looking around the light-filled room, the day he had come here with Ginny and found his father's letter seemed like a lifetime ago. For months now, they had been working together to fix the Godric's Hollow house. It barely resembled the abandoned ruins it had been for so many years. The deep blue wallpaper, twinkling with enchanted stars in a cloudy sky, was now home to one of Luna's most masterful murals, which held pride of place over the crib. It depicted those four best of friends, the infamous Marauders, smiling mischievously at the viewer, with Mischief Managed written above their heads in flowing script. It had been decided that, despite his actions later in life, Peter should be included. There were important lessons to be learned from his story, it was decided. Harry stopped and smiled back at them for a moment, before placing the rocking chair next to the crib.
"It really is lovely in here," a soft voice came from behind him. Harry turned to find his mother in the doorway, holding a small framed picture, looking wistfully at the mural. Harry blushed and his gaze turned to his shoes.
"Thanks mum," even almost two years later, the word still felt a little strange on his tongue, but in an exciting way. "You know, we can cover that up if it makes you too sad." He was surprised when his mother swept him up in a gentle hug.
"Oh my darling, never. It's absolutely perfect. The whole house is perfect. I can never thank you enough." Harry let out a single laugh.
"You didn't feel that way when we were hanging wallpaper."
"Oh God, don't remind me. But look how good it looks! I told James, there are some things magic can't do as well as human hands, and hanging wallpaper is one of them. You don't get perfectly flat walls with wand waving. That only comes from-"
"Good clean, elbow grease, I know mum." Harry laughed as he finished her thought. They had all been so annoyed that day, but in the end, Lily had been proved right. "He's going to love it."
"Oh, I really hope so. I brought the finishing touch." She delicately hung the framed photo she had been holding on the wall opposite the window. The morning sun illuminated the smiling faces of Remus and Tonks, nervous and excited on the day of their wedding. In the golden afternoon light, they almost glowed.
The pounding of feet on the staircase alerted them to Ginny's presence.
"Is it ready?" Ginny called as she reached the landing.
"Yeah, what do you think?"
"It's beautiful, Mrs. Potter. When we need a nursery," she replied hesitantly, "I know just who to call for help. That'll probably be a couple of years from now, though," she added hastily.
"Call me for anything at all, Ginny." Lily clasped the younger girl's hand in hers. "And please, for the love of Pete, call me Lily."
"I'll try…Lily. It's time to go. Are you ready?" Ginny blushed as she replied.
Lily took in the room one last time, and nodded.
The Ministry of Magic had become a much warmer place in the years since the war, but at its heart, it was still an administrative office building. Harry shivered, sitting in the waiting room of the Hall of Records. This was such a happy occasion, and the Ministry still felt a far too austere place to celebrate it. He and Ginny held hands in silence, both feeling the party celebrating their first anniversary at the Burrow later today couldn't come soon enough.
They both stood abruptly as the office door swung open. Lily and James spilled out, both sporting large smiles.
"Is it all done?" Harry asked eagerly, clapping his father on the shoulder.
"Yep, your mother and I are officially alive again. And you, my dear boy, are no longer an only child."
Holding a squirming toddler in her arms, Andromeda Tonks emerged from the office behind them. She handed Teddy off to Lily, dabbing her eyes with a hanky.
"Here you are, dear. Oh, I just know Remus and Nymphadora would be so happy right now. He talked often of how he considered you and Sirius to be his brothers, James. And Merlin knows, I'm getting too old to be raising such an energetic little one. But I will miss that little face."
"Mrs. Tonks, you know you can visit him absolutely any time at all. Every child deserves to be spoiled rotten by their grandmother," Lily replied, bouncing the little boy as his hair turned red to match hers.
"That's absolutely right. We'd never keep him away from you. You're as much a part of our family now as he is," James clasped her hand in his in reassurance. "After all, it takes a village to raise a child, eh?"
"Bless you both," she replied, blowing her nose. "Oh, I'd best let you get him home for a nap before the party. He'll be a terror otherwise." She gave them each a hug, and Teddy a kiss on the forehead, and headed for the elevator.
"Hello, little brother," said Harry, handing Teddy a finger to squeeze. "We'll see you at the party later, then?"
James nodded. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. But you two have got to promise that there won't be a repeat of your little disappearing act. It was cute the first time, but you don't want to get a reputation for doing an Irish exit too often."
"I'm not making any promises I'm not sure I can keep," Ginny replied, smirking at her father-in-law. Come on, Harry, we'd better get going."
"Where are you going?" Lily asked, surprised.
"We've got to finish packing before the interview," Harry replied.
"That's right! I almost forgot you're moving." James shook his head, smiling. "Potters living at Dagonmire again. I never thought I'd see the day."
"Well, we won't be if someone doesn't get a move on on packing up his study," Ginny said, glaring at her husband. "Come on, Mr. Potter, let's get a move on."
As Ginny dragged him away, Harry called back to his parents, "Don't forget, we're happy to babysit anytime!"
"You'll regret saying that!" Lily replied, laughing at the elevator doors shut on her son and his wife. James was looking at little Teddy, who'd fallen asleep in Lily's arms.
"Merlin, he looks so much like Remus when he sleeps. I'm almost afraid he'll wake up and start badgering me on my potion's essay," he finished with a weak laugh.
"He really does," Lily said, her voice a whisper. "Come on, I think we could all do with a little lay down before the party."
"You just about ready, Harry?" Ginny asked, shaking Harry out of his thoughts.
"Hm?"
"I said, are you ready? Luna and Rolf just got here, it's time."
Harry took one last look at himself in the mirror. He had opted for his more distinguished-looking set of dress robes, to give himself the air of an older man. Closing his eyes, he slipped into the savior persona, today taking himself back to the final battle, and seeing Remus and Nymphadora laying together, almost peacefully. His stomach twisted, and when he opened his eyes again, they were hard and determined, once more the eyes of the Chosen One.
He blinked a few times, and let it all fall away. This was, after all, a happy occasion, and Luna wasn't going to take advantage of him if he didn't have his walls up. He tried out a shy smile in the mirror instead, and turned to face Ginny, who stood behind him in the doorway. She nodded approvingly, and he followed her out into the hall, taking one last glance around their old room.
He welcomed Luna and Rolf with warm hugs in the family room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, where Patricia and Sarah Albright were already perched nervously on one of the cushy couches.
They all sat down, and Luna asked, "You don't mind if I have my quill take notes? It's just self-writing, not a quick quotes, obviously." Harry nodded, and she set the quill on a piece of parchment, where it stood to attention, waiting for them to speak.
"So, Harry, why don't we start with you explaining in your own words," Luna said quietly. Harry watched the quill for a moment, making sure it wrote what she said verbatim, before answering.
"Well," he took a calming breath. "This is an exciting day. Today, I officially sign over this house, which was passed on to me by my godfather, Sirius Black, to Miss Patricia Albright, and her mother, Dr. Sarah Albright. When you hear how they plan to use it, I think you'll agree that it'll be much more useful than it is as a private inhabitance. Especially given the actions of the previous inhabitants, I think this is a great step forward in building the type of Wizarding Society I'd like to see. I'll let Miss Albright explain."
Patricia almost spilled her cup of tea when Harry gestured to her. "Sorry!" She said, hastily returning it to the coffee table. "I'm a bit nervous, I'm usually on the other end of the quill." She grinned sheepishly at her boss.
Luna smiled back at her calmly. "That's okay, Patty. Just pretend it isn't there. Tell me like you told me the other day at lunch. You know I won't make you sound bad in the article, I just need a couple quotes."
The other woman smiled gratefully. "Well, for the first time in decades, the Black Family house will no longer be a private residence. It is slated to be reopened this summer as the Albright House for Outcast Witches and Wizards. If you feel that you have been removed from society for reasons outside of your control, you are welcome to stay for as long as you like at the Albright House. We will provide three meals a day, group counseling sessions, and assistance in finding jobs with open minded companies, such as the Daily Prophet." Luna blushed, and nodded.
"Wonderful. Let me ask you, what kinds of witches and wizards are you thinking of when you say outcast? Will there be any exclusions?"
"We really do mean anyone and everyone who considers themselves to be outcast. We will accept everyone from werewolves and giants on down to a kid who's run away from home after an argument with their parents. This is a safe space to recover and heal old wounds. We accept all genders, sexualities, and degrees of humanity. The only trait that we won't accept is intolerance." Patricia's steely determination radiated from her every pore.
"That's going in in the article for sure," said Luna, making sure that the quill put a star next to the quote before continuing on. "And how is this public service going to be funded?"
"We've received several grants from the Ministry, as well as generous donations from private donors, like Mr. Potter. If you'd like to donate to this worthy cause, please owl Miss Patricia Albright, Albright House, Number 12, Grimmauld Place," Dr. Albright's eyes shone as she watched her daughter speak.
"Dr. Albright," said Luna, "With your private practice being so busy, how big of a presence do you think you'll be able to be at the Albright House?"
Dr. Albright wiped her damp eye. "Thank you, Luna. I'll be there every day to run the group counseling session, but all other aspects are being run by my daughter. She is more than capable." Harry thought to himself that it was unfortunate that the readers wouldn't be able to hear the pride in her mother's voice. Any doubters had Dr. Albright to answer to.
"Any other staff?" Luna inquired, after referring to her notes.
"We're still hiring, but we already have our first employee," said Patricia, smiling broadly. "A newly free elf, Kreacher, will be our head chef."
"And what about you, Harry, will you have any further involvement once the deed changes hands?"
"Well, I'll be fighting the good fight on the outside. I've got more grants in the works in order to secure the future of the House. I'll be helping out with the job searches. I know a great many people in high places, and even more good people looking for good, hard workers. And of course, hopefully I'll be allowed to pop round for tea every now and then to chat with the residents."
They all laughed, and Patricia said, "Any time, Harry!"
"Lovely," Luna smiled at him. "One last question, Patty. How do you think this will impact your work as a reporter for this publication?"
Patricia's eyes narrowed. "Is this for the article, or is Luna asking me?"
The other woman shrugged, girnning. "A little bit of both."
"I certainly won't have as much time as I do now to spend on the paper," she smiled, "but I have a feeling I'll come up with quite a few good human interest stories."
"Cheers to that," Luna said, lifting her tea cup.
Luna put away the quill and the notes it had made, and Harry pulled out the ancient deed. Rolf snapped pictures as Harry performed the spell to change his name to Patricia's. Rolf then arranged them in front of the ancient fireplace, with Harry and Patricia shaking hands over the deed.
"Once I get these developed, I'll send them to you all for approval," Rolf said, shaking hands with all three of them. "If I do say so, I think that last one's front page worthy."
Harry shook his head, grinning. "I'd rather never be on the front page of the Daily Prophet again as long as I live, but for this? I'd be on the front page for the rest of my life if it supported the Albright House."
Luna smiled a crooked grin. "Can I quote you on that?"
Harry laughed, and said, "You know what? Yes, you can. Now come on, you lot. This is probably the last dinner of Kreacher's that I'll get to eat for a while, and he's gone all out, bless him." He gripped Rolf's shoulder, a little harder than necessary. "You sit next to me, Rolf. I've got to get to know Luna's new boyfriend."
Rolf laughed, and agreed. Everyone else headed to the kitchen, and Harry held him back.
"Don't think I haven't heard about you, Scamander. From what Ginny told me, you treated Luna pretty rough for a while there." Rolf was caught off guard. This wasn't the determined, hardened savior he'd met previously. This was Harry, the angry young man.
Rolf looked as his shoes, and nodded. "I'll be the first to admit it. I was a jealous idiot, and I took it out on her. She didn't deserve that. I had a lot of my own shit to work out. I'm done acting like that, really."
Harry fixed him with a hard glare. "You better be. She may not be by blood, but Luna's my sister, and I'm done watching people treat her like garbage. You'll never meet another person like Luna, and you'd better treasure her. Got it?"
"Oh, believe me, I do," Rolf reassured him quickly.
"Good," Harry grinned and clapped the other man on the shoulder. "Because you'd better believe that if I kicked Voldemort's arse, I can certainly kick yours. Come on, the girls'll be waiting on us."
The party that night was one for the books. The Weasleys really went all out, and Harry couldn't remember a time when he was last surrounded by so many of the people he loved. The little house teemed with family, friends, DA members, professors, survivors, fellow aurors, and professional quidditch players until it eventually exploded out onto the lawn. All eyes were on the new family unit, but Lily and James had eyes only for Teddy. They sat with him on a blanket on the lawn, laughing until their throats were sore as Harry's classmates told them stories from school. Harry sat next to them, feeling as though his heart would surely burst at any moment. For so many years, he had never thought anything like this was even possible. Looking from his parents, doting on the little orphan boy with black hair, to his wife, leaning against him nursing a bottle of butterbeer, he reckoned his heart was close to bursting.
Mrs. Weasley eventually gave in, and let Ron and George built a bonfire in the garden. When it was blazing wildly, Ron raised his bottle, and called for silence.
"Hi everyone, thanks again for coming. I think we all remember what a royal cock-up Harry and Ginny's wedding was, so in honor of their managing not to get divorced for one whole year, we're having a bit of a redo tonight. As best man, I wanted to start off by saying that my original speech sucked arse, and I'll admit that even without a couple drinks in me."
"Here, here!" Harry called from his spot on the ground, and there were several cackles around the fire.
"Oi! I'm trying to say nice stuff about you, mate." Harry flipped Ron off with a large grin. Ron just shook his head and laughed it off. "Right…I don't think anyone would like the idea of their best mate shagging their sister, but I have to admit that I'm glad you two are together. Ginny was my best mate before I went to Hogwarts, and I'll be the first to tell you that she's a top rate girl. So what I'm saying is, I planned this from the beginning," he grinned widely at his own joke.
There were muffled laughs while he took a pause. "Harry, I haven't said it enough, but I'm so proud to have you as my best mate. I've been a jealous, stupid git over the years, and you've always stuck by me. I think a lot of people thought I hung around you because you're famous and rich and whatever, but I've hung around all these years because you're a great bloke, and you care about your friends. And besides, your instincts are a lot better than mine," he said jokingly, pulling his wife to his side. "If it was up to me, I'd be the idiot that missed out on having Hermione in my life, and I'd probably be dead in a ditch somewhere instead of standing here today." The crowd laughed as she protested.
"You're not the only one," Harry called from his spot on the ground, laughing. "Thanks mate. But just so you know, I only hang around you because you're famous."
Ron laughed, and jokingly replied, "Oh fuck off, you git."
"And what about me?" Ginny said in mock annoyance. "It was my wedding too, you know!"
"Ginny," Ron said, turning to her. "You're good too, I guess." He pretended to sit down. Harry laughed, and Ginny shoved him.
"Nah, I'm kidding, I've got nice things to say about you, too. I'll be the first one to say that I've never felt like I was a very good brother to you. I was supposed to keep an eye on you at school, and I messed that up from the very beginning." Ginny protested, but he held up a hand to stop her.
"But the funny thing about you, is that you've never really needed that much looking after. I always knew you'd be fine. I worry about you because I care about you, but I've never doubted that you could take care of yourself, even when we were kids. That's why I'm so glad you're with Harry, because Merlin knows what trouble he'd get into without someone competent keeping an eye on him. I couldn't ask for anything better than having two of the people I care about the most take care of each other. I don't know if that makes sense. Point is, I love you, Ginny, and I'm so proud of you. I always have been, and I always will be." Ron wiped a tear from his cheek gruffly as Ginny got up and gave him a hug, eyes close to overflowing herself.
Hermione stood from her spot on the ground as Ron finally sat down again, to applause from the assembled party guests. Unlike Ron, she had several notecards that she had seemingly pulled from thin air. "Well, I suppose that means it's my turn. I'll go for Ginny first, since I was, after all, her Maid of Honor."
She cleared her throat and began to read from her cards. "Ginny. I can't tell you what a privilege and an honor it was to be chosen as your Maid of Honor. I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, and we don't even have much in common, but I don't think I would know what to do without you in my life. I've never been good at being friends with other girls, but being friends with you was always simple. You're smart, you're funny, and you always say what you mean. You always know where you stand with Ginny, for better or for worse." There were some laughs and murmurs of agreement from the onlookers.
"Anyway…This feels like an appropriate time to say that I'm sorry for the times you felt we excluded you. No, the times that we DID exclude you. I hope you know that, going forward, you are a member of the team, and honestly, you always have been. The so-called 'Golden Trio' is really a quartet, and I think I can speak for the boys when I say that we're all better people for having you on our team. Thank you."
Ginny was now openly crying as she got up again to envelope the older girl in a long hug. "Thank you, Hermione. For everything."
When she finally sat again, Hermione wiped her own teary eyes, and shuffled her cards. "Ah, ok. And now, Harry." She breathed out slowly, trying to calm her emotions.
"What can I say about Harry? It sounds sad to say it out loud, but I think Harry was my first friend, period. He set the bar pretty damn high for all the rest. Like Ron said, Harry cares so deeply for those he counts as friends, and it's impossible not to feel the same way in return. I can't imagine life without Harry either, although I imagine I'd have a few less scars," she mused, chuckling.
"What I am sure of, is that I wouldn't have had nearly as much fun, or as many adventures, or companionship as good as I've had over the past nine years. While the lows have been quite low, the highs have been higher, and I think that's really all anyone can ask from life. And it's all because this little kid with the scar took a chance on the annoying, weird girl. Or more accurately, because he saved the life of the annoying girl when she was trapped in a bathroom with a mountain troll." She paused for laughs, shaking her head, and finally putting down her cards. "I may be an only child, but I'll never stop being grateful that I have you for a brother."
It was Harry's turn to give her a tearful hug, though he tried to hide his tears behind laughter.
"Thanks, Hermione. But I have to say, as far as friendships go, I think I got the better end of the bargain," he whispered, squeezing her hard.
The party had wound down hours ago, but a simmering campfire still burned in the garden. Just a few stragglers were left, including Harry and James. Lily had gone home hours ago to get Teddy to bed, but insisted that James stay and enjoy himself. Ginny had fallen asleep with her head in Harry's lap not long ago.
Harry watched his father watch the flames lazily, speculating once more that he really didn't see the similarity, beyond the glasses and dark hair. James' cheek bones were more pronounced, his nose slimmer, and his smile more crooked. To Harry's chagrin, his ears didn't stick out quite as much as Harry's own.
"What are you staring at, Potter? Got on a crush on me or something?" James smirked at him and took another pull from his Butterbeer.
Harry laughed quietly, trying not to rouse Ginny. "You're drunk, old man."
"Oh, my boy, I'd be much funnier if I were drunk. I'm practically sober as a judge. It takes more than a little Butterbeer to take me down." They both laughed quietly and fell back into a comfortable silence.
"Dad? Do you remember what you said to me about my story?" Harry avoided his gaze, and ripped a blade of grass from the damp ground.
"Harry, that bubble had a memory reset spell cast by Albus Dumbledore himself. Do you think I remember what I had for breakfast this morning?"
"Oh, I guess when you put it that way…well, after I told you my whole story the first time, you said that everyone should know it. The real story. That I should take control of my own narrative."
"Did I say that? That's pretty fucking good advice. Are you sure it wasn't your mum?"
Harry chuckled. "No, it was definitely you. Um…" He hesitated, then ever-so-gently reached into his back pocket and pulled out a minuscule stack of papers. With a deft flick of his wand, the stack grew larger in his hand. It was a sizable handwritten manuscript, held together by three brass rings. He handed to it his father. "I took your advice."
James was speechless. He flipped through the pages in disbelief.
"When did you even have time?"
"I just worked on it at night, once Ginny was asleep, and sometimes at work when I was supposed to be doing paperwork. It's not that much though, this is only about my first year at school. I decided I only want to cover my school years, since that's what everyone always got wrong in the press. Since Luna's taken over the Prophet, there haven't been as many problems," he explained, thinking fondly of his friend.
"That's still a lot of work, Harry. You want to write this much, six more times?" Harry shrugged.
"I want people to know the truth. I'm tired of keeping things secret, and people being misinformed. If I'm going to be the Boy Who Lived, I may as well do so on my own terms." James nodded.
"What are you gonna call it?"
"I was thinking something like, 'Harry Potter: The Truth of my First Year at Hogwarts'. I don't know, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud. I don't want it to be a stuffy autobiography, I want them to really feel what it was like to be me. I want them to understand."
"Well Harry, I'm sure whatever you write is going to sell like hotcakes, but I have to tell you that that title stinks like a hog on a summer day." Harry laughed genuinely, and Ginny stirred, but only turned and fell back asleep.
Relieved, Harry replied, "Alright, Dad, think you can do any better? Remember, whatever you choose will be the way people think of me forever. So, you know, no pressure." James sat in silence for a moment.
"Have you considered something a little broader, like maybe, 'Harry Potter, the Boy Who REALLY Lived'?"
"Ok, that's absolutely as bad as mine was. And anyway, this is only about my first year, remember? I'm splitting them up, because only Hermione would read one book that detailed seven years of my life."
"Ok, genius, then let's go at it this way: what's one thing that you think defined your first year?"
"Well… I learned about magic, that I was a wizard…met my best friends…finally found a place to call home." James waved a hand at him.
"Boring! Didn't you do anything exciting?"
"Well, I suppose I did fight Voldemort for the first time, and saved the Philosopher's Stone. That good enough for you?"
"Yeah, that's good! 'The First Time Harry Potter Fought Voldemort' sounds like a book I'd bloody well want to read."
"Eh, I guess so, it sounds like a cash grab to me." James looked puzzled.
"A what?"
"Like I just want to make money, without providing any substance. Besides, I want all the books to all have similar titles, and I didn't fight Voldemort every year."
"I see…what about something that evokes fighting Voldemort, but doesn't directly mention him. Maybe something about the Philosopher's Stone." Harry hummed in agreement, and they both sat in silence for a few minutes.
"How about 'My First Year and the Philosopher's Stone'?" Harry proposed.
"It's close, but I think your name should be in the title. I know you don't want to seem greedy, but your name will sell books, you can't ignore that. How about 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone'." Harry let the words settle into his skin. They felt right.
"I think that's it, Dad," he finally responded quietly. "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," he murmured, trying them out on his tongue. The words slipped out easily, and disappeared into the darkness of night as if they'd always belonged there.
James reached over and clasped his son's shoulder, meeting his eyes in the dim light of the fire. "I'm so proud of you, Harry." He handed the manuscript back to his son. Harry wiped a tear from his eye gruffly and pushed it back towards his father.
"No, keep it. I'd really like you to help me with it. You know, get your opinions on whether or not it's making sense. Sometimes I think I'm too close to the story, so I forget bits that I assume everyone knows. If-if you want to, that is."
"Harry, there's nothing I'd love more." James put his arm around his son, and they sat talking and looking at the stars until the fire burned out.
THE END
[A/N: Thanks for coming on this journey. I'd love to hear what you thought about it. Stay safe, everyone. Happy summer.]