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home


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December 1939

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Christmas is something out of a dream. It is nothing like the Christmases he and Tom used to pass at Wool's, but it is also different from the Christmases they'd spent at Hogwarts. All of the Weasleys are cheerful, joyful. The holiday feast is as plentiful as any Hogwarts dinner, but the atmosphere is warmer, kinder.

Hogwarts is home, more of a home than Wool's or any other orphanage had ever been, but it is not the same as a house. Harry feels safe in this house, as safe as he does at Hogwarts, but he also feels welcome here. Hogwarts does not have Atticus' strange tales from St. Mungo's about the patients' ongoing disagreements about mayonnaise, or Nathaniel's embarrassment over the six pairs of Holyhead Harpies socks he'd gotten from Genie for Christmas, or Septimus's justified hogging of the gravy boat (he'd made it for his parents at the ripe age of seven).

It is the little details that make a house a true home, and make a group of people into a true family. There is nothing more magical than the fact that there are so many people in this place who love each other. Over Christmas dinner, Harry and Tom get to know Septimus' other brothers:

Jonathan works as an assistant in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry. He loves to talk about anything; Harry can suggest any topic at all and be treated to a rant about it. Tom finds this annoying, but Harry likes to listen, to let words and concepts wash over him. Harry asks about wizarding traditions, about dueling, about how magical homes are built. Jonathan also loves to talk about his family, and the politics of the world around them. Politics is a topic that Tom finds interesting enough to sit through, Harry notes with amusement.

Matthias is an artist who paints commissions for magical portraits. He shows them some of his various paints and explains the magical properties of the different colours. The process of making a magical portrait is a mix of painting and potions making, which comes as a surprise to Harry. He'd assumed that the process would be just like Muggle painting, only with magical paints. For Christmas, Matthias paints a lovely sketch of Tom's stone snake next to Harry's stone lion and gifts it to them.

Radford has three daughters and a wife named Astrid. The girls, triplets, are a few years older than Nathaniel, and they have brought a large container full of baked goods to share at Christmas dinner with the family. The girls are very nice, but Radford is not always so nice. He pesters his brothers with questions about their careers and makes jokes about how Nathaniel finally has a girlfriend. Harry decides he doesn't like Radford very much.

Cordarius works as an archivist in Greece. He is also an expert on ancient manuscripts, and is very interested in the history of the magical world. Mostly he seems content to sit and watch his family laugh and bicker with each other, but he is close with Nathaniel; the two of them talk together about books they've read and the books they'll read next. Tom jots down a list of several titles for later research.

Overall, it is an enjoyable holiday. Harry forgets about his troubles during all of the merriment. Or at least he is able to shelve them temporarily. Most of Septimus' brothers leave as soon as they'd come, returning to their busy lives. It feels over far too soon; Harry wonders if Septimus is always missing his brothers and the vibrancy they bring into a room.

"I like it when they're here," Septimus says with a shrug. "But it's nice when they're gone, too. The house is a little quieter and I can do stuff without people breathing down my neck."

"Solitude is nice," Tom says, which is one of few times he's agreed with Septimus since they'd come here.

"The house is hectic when we're all here at once. Like a hurricane swept through, mum says." Septimus stretches his legs out in front of him. "Nate told me we're to let you borrow our owl, by the way. You know you could have asked me any time, I swear I would have let you."

Harry flushes. "It's not like that," he protests. "It's only that Atticus made me promise to mail him if anything happens during the school year."

"Oh." Septimus frowns. "How did that go, by the way? None of you really said."

"Patient confidentiality," Tom replies in a cool tone.

Septimus eyes Tom with doubtfulness, which Harry supposes is valid. Septimus must know that Harry tells Tom everything, confidentiality or not.

"Did he mention, you know—" Septimus pushes at the fringe of hair over his own forehead.

"No," Tom says, once again answering for Harry, but this time he's frowning.

"Ah." Septimus is frowning, too. "He must not have thought anything of it. When I asked him about the topic before, I never mentioned your names. I only said that it came up at school."

Tom looks conflicted; Harry thinks he knows why. On one hand, Tom wants privacy. He wants for them to be self-sufficient, for their special connection to be theirs and theirs alone. On the other hand, Tom would never allow for Harry to be placed in harm's way because of a stone left unturned.

"He gave me a full-check up," Harry reminds them both. "There are spells that check for magical damage, and Atticus told me he went through them all. I'm sure if there was an issue, he would have mentioned it, so there must not be anything to worry about."

"Then you best write to him if anything does come up," Septimus says warningly.

Harry shrugs, trying to make the motion casual. "I already promised him I would."

"Everything is handled," Tom interjects, nonchalant attitude back in place. His eyes flicker over to Harry, and the message is clear:

If something comes up, Tom's sharp gaze says, then you will come to me first.


A letter from the Greengrass sisters arrives at the Weasley home a few days before the new year. Adelaide offers them belated holiday wishes and has enclosed Tom's birthday present.

Our parents were invited to a private gala this Yule, she writes. Annalise and I were not permitted to attend, so I can only imagine what went on.

According to Sebastian, there were many notable figures in attendance. Of course, everything Sebastian says must be taken lightly, but Professor Dumbledore was most definitely there. Minister Spencer-Moon has promoted him to Chief Warlock, if you can believe it! I wonder how he will have the time to teach in addition to this new position.

All of this is a popular topic of conversation, undoubtedly, and much credit has been given to our Professor's article on the uses of dragon's blood. They are calling it the discovery of the century. I can't say I've given much thought to the study of Alchemy, but perhaps now I will...

Other Pureblood families in attendance included the Blacks, the Boneses, the Lestranges, the Parkinsons, and the Potters. Mother boasts that if we were to host such a gathering, the guest list would be more impressive. I am not sure where her delusions come from; we may be an old, wealthy, Pureblood family, but we are hardly influential.

There is more to say, but I will wait for the term to resume before I bore you to tears with the details. I will add that the Ministry has been flapping its wings like a headless chicken over the Muggle war, amongst other things. Father finds it amusing.

Annalise also sends her love to you all. We shall see you again in the new year.

Best regards,

Adelaide Greengrass

Her casual mention of the Potters is jarring, but then again, they had all sworn to keep the secret of Harry's heritage to their little group only. It is sensible for Adelaide to bury that particular family name into a list of others.

Tom reads the letter twice over before handing it back to Harry. "Whatever she has to add must be too confidential to put into a letter."

"I suppose we'll find out later, then." Harry folds the letter up and tucks it away with everything else he keeps—an endless amount of letters, notes, and cards given to them by their friends. He's got quite the collection going now that they've gone through over an entire year's worth of holidays and birthdays.

Adelaide's letter is more informative than sentimental, but Harry finds himself rereading it over the next few days. What's awful is that he finds himself rereading it specifically whenever Tom isn't around. Harry feels guilty for thinking about the Potters, but he can't help it—he wants to know more about them. What they look like, where they work, if he's been named after anyone the way Tom has.

It is only when Harry gets a spare moment alone with Septimus that he finds the courage to ask one of his many burning questions. "Have you ever seen or met the Potters before?"

Septimus doesn't answer straight away. He takes a second to turn around, to look Harry in the eye. "No, I haven't. My parents are too old to have gone to Hogwarts with them. The Potters tend to keep to themselves. They're not the flashy sort." There is a longer pause. Just before Harry is about to change the subject, Septimus asks, "Why do you ask?"

"I was only curious," Harry says, the words slipping out quickly—too quickly.

"Nothing wrong with that," Septimus agrees. He nods once, then glances at the open door. "Did you want to look into it some? I'm sure the girls wouldn't mind helping. Or if you don't want to bother them, I can do it on my own."

"No, no," Harry says, "you don't have to, really." Septimus looks so serious about all this, which is the last thing Harry wants. "It's alright! It isn't important—I was just curious, like I said."

"Sure. Not a problem." Septimus smiles. "Why don't we see if anyone's up for a game of chess?"

Harry allows the knot inside his chest to unravel. "Sounds like fun," he says, but he wants to know that Septimus won't bring this up again. What Harry really ought to do is ask Septimus not to do that, but Harry hates keeping secrets from Tom. If he tells Septimus not to bring it up again, then he's acknowledging that he doesn't want Tom to know, and that is an acknowledgment Harry is not willing to make, even for his own peace of mind.

So he will leave it be, and the conversation will hopefully become a distant memory.


All too soon, it is time for them to return to Hogwarts. Much to his dismay, Harry realizes that he hasn't given much thought at all towards dealing with the Slytherins. The excitement of the holidays had successfully distracted him from planning, and now that they are returning to Hogwarts, Tom will expect full rein in dealing with the problem.

It isn't that Harry doesn't trust Tom to handle the situation. It's more… he's worried what the consequences may be. If Tom fails a second time, they may not be lucky enough to escape. But Tom's pride is a restless thing, the rush of winning duels in the corridor is not enough to satisfy him. He will not rest until the Slytherins suffer for what they've done, for what they've threatened to do.

During the ride back to Hogwarts, Adelaide and Annalise talk about the private gala hosted by the Rosiers.

"Sebastian hints at grander wheels turning," Adelaide says crossly. "He won't say what, but I'm certain if I push him enough, he won't be able to help himself. As if he's important enough to be of value to anyone." She scoffs. "Perhaps because he stands to inherit, but that won't happen for years to come." Her lips thin out. "Or never, if I have my way."

Harry's never heard Adelaide speak in such ominous tones before. "Was there anyone else we know at the gala?"

"No one our age." Adelaide exchanges a glance with her sister. "Besides, that's hardly the most important part—"

"Is it Dumbledore?" Tom interrupts, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees. "You said there was more to the gala that you couldn't speak about."

"Yes, but not about him." Adelaide glares at Tom, likely because he had cut her off mid-sentence. "There's a group of wizards who are Sebastian's age that seem likely to cause trouble. I can't say exactly what they have planned, but it can't be good. A few of them have gotten in trouble for Muggle-baiting in the past."

"Muggle-baiting?" Harry asks.

"Pranks and the like," Septimus says. "Mostly harmless, but sometimes it can go too far. Either way, it's against the law for Muggles to know about magic."

"Difficult for them to know what isn't supposed to exist." Adelaide shifts back in her seat and folds her arms across her chest. "Muggles will not be reporting what they've seen to the Aurors, they'll be reporting to their police. So most of the time nothing gets done, and even when someone is caught, it's hardly a slap on the wrist. People like Sebastian think the law is a joke."

"So they break the law," Tom muses, "and pick on harmless Muggles. You think they'll get themselves arrested, is that it?"

"I hope so," Adelaide huffs. "But I'm not certain."

"Sebastian won't say," Annalise says worriedly. "If our brother ends up in St. Mungo's because he's crossed the wrong person, I won't be surprised."

"Many of these older families have entire libraries dedicated to Dark magic," Adelaide adds.

"And Sebastian thinks he's a dueling prodigy."

The girls exchange a second glance. This time, their shared gaze is full of exasperation.

"What does this have to do with us, then?" Tom asks. "If something awful does happen to him, then that's all the better for you. Unless you plan to hasten his demise?"

"Whatever it is that he's gotten himself and his friends into, he thinks there's something valuable to be gained from it," says Adelaide. "This is the most motivated I've ever seen him. We should find out what it is. Even though they're idiots, it could be useful information for blackmail."

The casual tone throws Harry for a moment. Harry's never heard anyone other than Tom talk about these things before. "Blackmail is also breaking the law," Harry points out.

"Yes, well, they're rotten people," Adelaide says. "It's not the worst thing that could happen to them."

"Imagine," Annalise says in a low voice, "if we could blackmail one of them into making the Slytherins leave us alone! Wouldn't that be the best plan?"

"It sounds like there are many things that could go wrong," Septimus says. "Just because getting help from an older student worked the first time, doesn't mean it'll work again."

"It's only an idea," Adelaide says, but she sounds irritated. "Besides, aren't you tired of dueling like animals in the corridors? One of these days you'll be caught, and then what? It's poor taste and against the school rules. Everyone will think you're mannerless Mudbloods who don't know how to hold a proper duel."

Septimus clears his throat. "They do now. We went over the steps over the holidays. Jon went over it with us."

"Then we'll have to review it together," Adelaide says impatiently, waving it off. "I doubt your brother knows everything there is to know about traditional duels. Have you ever been to a dueling competition, Weasley?"

"No, but Jon's had a lot of jobs, and one of them was organizing a dueling competition."

Adelaide does not scowl, but her lips do twist in a way that leads Harry to believe she's reluctantly impressed. "Well, we'll be going over it again. You have to learn things the traditional way, not only the way they do them in the dueling circuit. It's very important to know the difference."

"I'm interested in hearing the differences between the two," Tom agrees, and that seems to put an end to the conversation.

The subject changes to talk of Christmas presents. Annalise spends the rest of the train ride talking about the romance novel Harry had picked out for her.

"My parents would never buy this for me," she says mournfully. "After I finish reading it, I may have to give it to you for safekeeping. I don't know if I could keep it hidden in the house all summer and I don't want to lose it."

"I'm glad you like it," Harry says. Truthfully, he is very relieved. After asking the bookstore owner a few awkward questions, he'd been given a few options to choose from. Looking the summaries over had not helped much, so Harry had simply chosen the one with the nicest cover and hoped for the best.

Tom is staring out the window, likely bored by the conversation topic. As the compartment falls silent, Harry shuffles closer and nudges Tom with his arm.

"Hmm?" Tom's eyes focus on Harry's face, the distant look in them fading as he gives Harry his full attention.

"Will we make a plan for this term?" Harry asks, just to see what Tom will say. He is aware that the others are watching them, listening to them. They will hold Tom accountable for whatever he says now.

"Of course we will," Tom says. His expression is impassive, his lips pursed in a neutral line as he thinks over his answer. "I have a few ideas, but we'll need to reassess once the term begins properly."

"I think blackmail will work the best," Annalise insists. "That's what they tried to do to you, Tom."

"We'll see," Tom says, but Harry thinks that Tom may be considering it. It would be the Slytherin thing to do; Tom would love to triumph over the Slytherins by succeeding where they had failed. To Harry, blackmail feels like another escalation that has the potential to go horrifically wrong.

Their train compartment is not the place to talk about this, though. Harry is wary of listening ears and lurkers in the hallway. He is also wary of what he says to Tom in front of their friends. Being Tom's friends is as good as being in Slytherin, Harry thinks dryly to himself. Tom may be reckless enough to fit in with Gryffindor house, but his methods will always be cunning, ambitious. To understand Tom is to understand those traits intimately.

So instead of speaking, Harry merely nods and tries to convey his sincerity with his smile. They will discuss this together at a later time; Harry has faith. He wants to have faith that their troubles will soon be far behind them, that Tom will share his plans and relieve the burden of stress and worry that Harry has carried for the past few months.

Tom nods back, also smiling, and Harry feels reassured. Tom's nod is an acknowledgment of Harry's concerns and a promise to hear them out. Perhaps they will resolve their problems with blackmail, or a duel, or something else entirely. What matters most to Harry is that they do so together. Hogwarts is wonderful, but it would not be nearly as wonderful without Tom by his side.

After they arrive at Hogwarts, have supper, and are tucked into their warm beds, the golden high from their time at the Weasleys has slipped away, much like a pleasant dream does after waking up. Harry stuffs an arm under his pillow to get comfortable and thinks about what it means to have a home.

The orphanage is not home. A few weeks ago, Harry might have called Hogwarts home, but now that he's been to the Weasleys, he thinks that's not quite true. Hogwarts is a sanctuary, but it is not a home. There are adventures to have and spells to learn, but at the end of the day, it is not this four-poster bed that Harry truly longs for.

When the day is over, when everyone else is asleep, what Harry wants the most is to talk with Tom. So maybe home will be wherever they choose to go together once they are finished studying at Hogwarts. Or maybe home is not always a place. Maybe it is a person.

Septimus may be content to see his brothers come and go over the course of the year, but Harry couldn't stand to be parted from Tom for that long. It may be a far cry from how Harry felt when Tom had first manipulated Mrs. Cole into making them roommates, but it is true nonetheless. Harry likes his friends, the people who come and go from his life over the course of the day, but he likes Tom the best, and he thinks that Tom likes him the best, too.

With one final yawn, Harry stretches his legs and wiggles his toes underneath his pile of blankets. In the morning, he might try to broach the topic of the Slytherins with Tom before the rest of their roommates wake. For now, he will sleep and hope for a pleasant dream that will carry him through the night.


A/N:

been a long time since the last update. this story is still hanging around! i feel i've been struggling with this particular arc for years sdklgjsklgjs. i do hope i will find the strength to wrap it up soon so we can continue with more interesting things.

thank you all for reading and continuing to support this story, it means a great deal to me.