A/N: It is me, back with another chapter after what I know is a pretty long wait. Thanks for your patience, and I hope this very long chapter is a good enough reward.
Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited and left reviews. Your words and support mean a lot. It all motivates me to find an extra hour to write even when my life is chaotic.
As always, thank you to my beta RudeHellion for taking the time and effort to go through a 12k word chapter while also having her own life and writing projects. Much love. Very appreciation.
I hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think in the reviews and/or come talk to me on tumblr at blog/theladygia!
Entwined
Ch. 8
Harry started into wakefulness at the sound of a thunk against the door. If anyone could have seen him, they would have chuckled at the cartoonish way he sat straight up, hair askew and bleary eyes wide and sweeping the room in search of the noise that woke him.
It took a moment for the sound of Connor's high-pitched voice to register. "Come and get breakfast! Now, Bear!" Harry sank back down into his familiar carolina-blue bedding with a contented sigh and ignored the increasingly shrill demands of his brother outside his door. He stretched out in his bed like a contented cat, trying to work out the heaviness in his limbs that made him want to turn over and drift back off. Harry's eyes were just beginning to slide shut again when the familiar caress of the Potter Family Magic slid over his skin as Connor impatiently pushed open Harry's door and stomped inside, his magic eagerly rushing into the room in an overexcited greeting. Harry smiled to himself, hiding the expression in his pillow. His brother's enthusiasm made something warm glow in the pit of his stomach. Connor had been just as excited to see him yesterday when he got off the train at King's Cross for the winter hol's.
"Harry, c'mon! It's breakfast time, and Mum said I can't start without you, so let's go." Connor demanded cheerfully, throwing himself down on the bed next to Harry.
Harry groaned, halfheartedly pushing Connor away. He knew he was going to get up, but Connor needed to work for-hmm. Well, no he probably didn't, but Harry also didn't want to start every morning of the break waking on Connor's timeline. Not when he could finally sleep in and enjoy his lovely, spacious, unshared room.
Oh, it is good to be home.
Harry wriggled in place, ignoring the flailing limbs of his sibling. True, he appreciated the silky feel of the white and silver sheets in the Slytherin dorms and had developed a fondness for the emerald duvets and the forest green throws that laid folded up alongside the couches in the common room. The cool tones were refreshing after the years surrounded by the crimson and plum shades that decorated most of the Potter household. Sharing the dormitory space with five other boys, however? Hard pass. Harry had missed the privacy of his room at home sorely over the last few months. It was good to be back.
There was something about the comfort of his own room that had the tension he'd carried draining from Harry's shoulders the instant he had walked through the doorway last night.
It had been odd, though, returning from Hogwarts for the first time.
Just over four months had passed since he had left the warm routines of home for the chilly castle awaiting him in the Scottish Highlands, but Harry already felt unaccustomed to being back with his family after the time away. Hogwarts was just so different!
His family was so openly affectionate. Not as much in public as they were in Potter Manor or the Black Manse, but still more than any type of affection Harry had experienced since the last time he'd stood on platform 9 and ¾. The weight of his dad's arm around his shoulders, the scent of his mum's jasmine perfume enveloping him as she pulled him into her arms when he walked over to them, the warmth of Connor's hand in his as his parents got ready to apparate them home: all of it was startlingly casual.
The family of four had stood around on the platform for at least ten minutes after he exited the train, pleased and content to be together once more. Harry had forgotten what it felt like to linger in a moment instead of continually turning his mind towards the next task he had to get done. It had been… nice. Peaceful. Harry had been able to just be Harry for a moment, surrounded by the people who loved him best.
Eventually, his parents said they had dinner waiting at home, so Harry had turned in a circle as he searched for his friend's family, the Frasers. Harry had said the majority of his goodbyes in their compartment, but Luc had told him he wanted to introduce his parents to Harry's.
Even that wasn't rushed. Harry had forgotten how slowly his dad walked when they were out in public. He noticed that Luc felt it too, how relaxed their families held themselves even as they met new acquaintances. The small talk was weightless, unimportant and clear-cut. It was in opposition to everything their conversations had entailed during the past four months as two of the newest Slytherins.
The fall term had passed in what felt like both a full year and an abbreviated month. Juggling seven classes and learning the ever-changing routes of how to get around a magical castle, on top of the sometimes subtle and other times overt jockeying for political position in the dungeons had made the weeks pass rapidly.
The days, however, seemed to stretch as if they were longer than twenty-four hours. If Harry wasn't spending hours in class scribbling notes and trying to reign in his magic enough to accomplish the daily tasks his professors had assigned them, then he was meditating on his bed behind closed curtains so he could settle his core's constant agitation. The afternoons were filled with study sessions in the library or exploring the lower flowers of the castle with his friends from other houses. In the past month or two Harry had even taken to combining the groups, interspersing his childhood friends with his fellow snakes as a sort of bridge between who he was and who he now had to be.
Meals and evenings were dedicated to the Snake Pit.
Weekends were for professor office hours, exploring the grounds (when the weather permitted), homework editing and tutoring with the upper years, socializing and Lucas' introductory culture sessions.
All together, the days were long and full, challenging but rewarding.
Now, being out of that rigidly structured environment, Harry could relax. He was home, cloaked in the comforting embrace of the Potter Family Magic that thrummed in the walls and encircled him as he crossed the entryway. It burrowed deep into his muscles as it rejoiced in his return, warming his whole body from the inside out. (Harry couldn't help but wonder, later that night when he went to bed for the first time in four months without the Slytherin magic looming overhead, if this was how Tom had felt the first time he stepped into the castle when he was eleven. He hoped so.)
Here, in his bedroom or at the dinner table or in the library, he didn't need to keep his best face forward at all times, never knowing who was watching and waiting for him to slip. He had no cares towards how he dressed and which classmates he had agreed to meet with and were they meeting in a neutral spot? He didn't have to play politics or be a guide or impress his mentor. He just had to be, well, himself.
It was great.
It was perfect.
It was overwhelming and comforting and off-putting, all at once.
Harry felt raw, exposed. Pushing different pieces of himself to the surface for the past four months had been an adjustment, even though Pads had prepared him. Harry's Black-raised godfather had given him the advice and lessons Harry had needed to thrive over the last few months, instruction that had begun a year ago when Harry had first admitted to potentially being a good fit for Slytherin. Harry was now so used to controlling the emotions he shared that being able to drop the masks and just be was making him feel almost uncomfortably vulnerable.
Snakes shed their skin; Slytherins, like the creatures they revered, did the same, choosing which scales were best suited to every environment. When Harry met up with Neville and Dean to study different cutting samples during Professor Sprout's office hours, he smiled wider. He kept his posture refined but let his arms swing and his hands move as if he could barely contain his enthusiasm. Harry radiated energy and wielded observational humor like a weapon, tapping into the boisterous Gryffindor cheer that fueled those excited debates and striped his scales in red and gold.
When having a game of wizard's chess with Blaise, Harry was calm. His face was controlled, displaying a permanent expression of dry amusement and aloof interest regardless of the position of his housemate's pieces. He had to be clever, his wit sharp and cutting, but blunted. He had to be both focused and engaging as Theo and Cassian hovered nearby, welcoming but not overtly friendly as they included Lucas and Persy: this was the downside of being a Primary Heir surrounded by other Primaries who put too much stock into pedigree rather than possibility. He'd learned how to forge his honesty and kindness into a tool as he'd consolingly explained the other boy's attitudes to Lucas on the way to Transfiguration the morning after.
He'd told his visibly-upset friend about how his Godfather had said circumspection was the best approach to true friendships in Slytherin whereas forthrightness could guide in Gryffindor and Hufflepuff.
"We're too young and powerless to cement our friendships, our alliances this early," Harry had told him quietly as they made their way through the still unfamiliar corridors. It was a terrible answer to Lucas' upset question of, "Why won't the other guys use my first name or do more than nod at me when I say good morning?" but it was the best Harry could do in the middle of the hallway while trying not to get lost.
"The house expects everyone to play the game until they've formed a strong enough support base to call their own shots," Harry said, thoughtlessly, as if he were reminding Connor of something he was supposed to know.
Lucas, red-faced and radiating frustration, had interrupted Harry's awful first attempt at an explanation with a whispered shout of, "But why? We're eleven! We should be able to have friends. Why does it have to be like this, and why is being my friend, noticeably my friend, something you have to gain influence to do?"
Harry had stopped, shame filling him as he realized of course, this makes no sense to him. It barely makes sense to me and I had a year's worth of lessons explaining it. So Harry had taken a look around and, seeing no Slytherins nearby, dragged Lucas into an empty classroom. They didn't have much time before they needed to make it to McGonagall's lesson, but some things couldn't wait. Once he'd gotten them both inside, Harry had barely hesitated a second before pulling Lucas in for a hug.
The young Scot had spluttered a little in surprise, but he relaxed into the embrace a moment later. Harry felt the tension in Lucas' shoulders release as his friend let out a breath in a sigh. He gave it a few seconds and then pulled back, letting Lucas collect himself.
Then, softly and with none of the poise or immovable composure his godfather had coached him on, Harry said, "I know this is hard. It's confusing and illogical and overwhelming on top of everything else that's new right now." Here Lucas had nodded in agreement.
"This kind of subterfuge seems ridiculous," Harry continued, a sardonic twist to his lips that revealed his inherent agreement. "Like children playing at adulthood, but it's tradition here. The wizarding world is intense about their traditions, and they don't do a good job of helping you learn about them before you step into this world. Our culture is different, and this school?" Harry paused, making sure to maintain eye contact with his frustrated friend, "It's one of the foundations of wizarding culture in the UK. People take the sorting so seriously because the four houses are drastically different, and being sorted into any of them is an experience. If you'd gone into Gryffindor things may be easier to start, but you'd be challenged in other ways. Instead, you chose Slytherin."
Harry paused as he saw a hint of challenge bubbling in Lucas's eyes, but he pushed on before the boy could say anything. Regardless of whether or not his friend agreed that he had chosen the house of green and silver, Lucas was here and it was here Harry knew he belonged.
"Whether you told the hat you wanted our house, whether it was the way you grew up shaping you for it or whether it was your goals making our house the best option for you, you were the deciding factor on why you became a Slytherin." Harry reaffirmed, watching as what he was saying sank in for his friend.
"And all of this," Harry said, gesturing to the perfectly-knotted tie Harry had done up for Lucas earlier that morning and then to Harry's own half-tamed hair and styled robes, "the appearances and the insane social hierarchy, is how Slytherin evaluates us, how we gain respect. We follow these traditions and learn from them and we gain connections, loyalty and respect from our peers, our teachers in return. It's difficult, elitist and," he smirked lightly and rolled his eyes as he admitted, "My godfather may have even described it as emotionally-stunted," which brought a real smile to Lucas's face. "But the idea behind it all is that we learn how to fend for ourselves and evaluate the people around us here under supervision instead of after we graduate when any mistake in who we trust or how we behave will have much more extreme consequences."
Harry went to tug on his collar but remembered he was supposed to keep it arranged as is at the last moment. He narrowed his eyes at his palm, sending a betrayed look in response to the automatic motion which had the fortunate side effect of making Lucas snort under his breath. Harry shot him a grin in reply.
"Look," Harry sighed. "Even though I've prepared somewhat for this, it's all new to me too. And regardless of whatever nasty, snippy comments come your way when people see us partnering in class or talking in the common room, I want you to know that you're my friend, not my ally or my follower," Harry scrunched his nose up at the idea of that, which made Lucas settle even more. "My friend. Even though I can't stand up in the common room and shout out that I like you more than any of our dormmates yet, it's true. It's probably going to be obvious since I refuse to avoid you like they are right now, but whatever," Harry said, realizing the truth of it as he said it. "They probably won't shun me as long as I interact with everyone else as I have been and keep talking politics with the other Heirs, ugh," He muttered, more to himself than Lucas at that point.
He had already had too many conversations about who would make the best Ravenclaw ally, and they had been here for five days. Luc's nose wrinkled just like Harry's had as the other boy remembered listening in on a few of those discussions.
"We have to get to class," Harry sighed, re-shouldering his book bag. "We're already cutting it pretty close even if Professor Mcgonagall will be lenient since it's the first week-, but I promise we can talk about this more later." Harry said earnestly. "I'll explain as much as I can and start filling you in on some things you probably don't know about our world that the other guys will be talking about, if you want. It just can't be right now, and it can't be in our dorm room in front of guys like Lestrange or Malfoy. They'll be . . . snobby about it, to say the least. When it comes to Slytherin, it's really best to be subtle "
For a second, Lucas looked like he was preparing himself to argue or demand that no, it had to be right now, but he closed his eyes and sighed a little before nodding. "Alright, I can wait."
The utter relief that had sprouted in Harry's chest had his magic singing under his skin. It wanted to reach out and wrap around Lucas, who was gathering his bag so they could leave and hustle to the Transfiguration classroom. Harry had wrested it back down, reminding his core that if Harry wasn't allowed to be that demonstrative while at school then neither was his magic.
Right before he pulled the door open, Lucas had turned back and locked eyes with Harry, losing the timidity and confusion that had lingered on his face since the sorting. "I won't wait longer than the weekend though. New or not, I won't hold my breath forever, no matter how nice you seem right now, Harry." Then, after getting a nod in return, Lucas had grabbed the handle and held the door open.
They hadn't spoken more on the subject while they booked it to class, but Harry had thought about that final moment later that night. In Lucas's intense, demanding stare, Harry had caught a glimpse of the steely resolve that dwelled inside his friend, and he felt certain that he'd just seen a large part of what made the boy a fit for Slytherin.
It had been the first truly difficult conversation Harry had been a part of during term, but it was by no means the last. That first weekend had seen the pair of them holed up in an abandoned classroom for almost every hour they weren't attending meals. After they'd finished the homework the professors had set for the weekend, Harry had started by explaining the levels of status in the wizarding world, since Lucas had been hearing about Heirs and Houses pretty much since the moment the hat had shouted Slytherin.
When Luc had only seemed more confused-Harry had floundered on how to explain so much of what he just knew, but he was determined to get better at it!-,Harry had lent him books that explained the structure of the wizarding government in more detail than Harry's meager summary of the Wizengamot and the titled families. He'd drawn up a list of their yearmates for Lucas to hopefully memorize throughout the term that marked who was an Heir and what type of Heir they were as well as which classmates weren't heirs but were younger siblings or cousins to the main Family lines. It wasn't imperative he know all the Families or the nuances when there were a million other things for them both to learn in their classes, but it would help him understand some of what the other Slytherins were talking about during meals or when he introduced himself to other students outside of class.
All throughout their conversation, Harry made a list of what further explanations would benefit Lucas. That first weekend was about the barest basics of what made the wizarding world different from the non-magical world, just enough so that the first-generation wizard could have a general idea of some of the things their dormmates were talking about.
Over the course of the term when they'd meet up on a free Sunday afternoon or a Wednesday with a light load of homework, Lucas often pushed back on the things Harry told him. Harry had expected it, with what his mother had shared about her own difficulties adjusting to the frequently backwards-seeming ways of the wizarding world. It was a good reminder of how intricate their culture was as well as how misguided certain practices were.
Britain had never been great at changing, sticking to the same traditions even when they grew outdated or needed to be adapted to match the evolution of knowledge. First-generation wix like Lucas and the other muggleborns were a fantastic resource for that kind of reflection, if their world would just utilize them. Families like the Malfoys wanted to be rid of them all together, which was so shortsighted, while families like the Fawcetts wanted to adopt muggle traditions in place of wizarding ones, which was illogical. Even at eleven, Harry thought both methods were stupid. He knew that his parents had stopped interacting with Headmaster Dumbledore beyond the necessary Wizengamot meetings or social gatherings for similar reasons, as the man had made his stance on adopting muggle traditions in place of their own clear over the last few decades.
The more he helped Lucas understand wizarding customs and Slytherin politicking, the more Harry realized how much he agreed on the necessity of bringing new-bloods into the fold. Luc looked at everything from a different angle than Harry had ever thought about it, and Harry had sent many a letter to his parents asking questions filled with whys and wouldn't it be better ifs.
Harry had never had to find the right words to describe what he'd grown up surrounded by, until Lucas needed a crash course. Sure, he knew his responsibilities as Heir and what it would mean when he took over the Lordship, and he knew why his parents had to act differently in public and in private. Harry knew why they celebrated Samhain and Yule rather than Halloween and Christmas, and he knew why names mattered so much the instant you crossed over Charing Cross Road, but he hadn't realized how complex and grounded in magical tradition his whole life had been until he had to explain the stark otherness of it all to Lucas.
His friend had wavered between wonderment and amusement at the many traditions of their world, the more Harry explained that some things like holidays were grounded in quantifiable magical exchanges while other traditions like using parchment and quills were arbitrary. Luc had been adamant on using the pens he'd snuck into his truck to complete his assignments after that. Harry had laughingly agreed, pulling out his own preferred pen and admitting that his mum had always preferred writing with a biro to a quill and had made sure to give Harry a supply to use at Hogwarts when he was by himself.
It had been daunting, that first weekend, as Harry realized how different this all must be to his friend. Hogwarts was a really rough transition for Harry, and he'd never known a world without the oddities and possibilities of magic. On the other hand, Lucas had been able to go to primary school, whereas Harry and Connor had individual or paired tutors for both non-magical and magical subjects. Harry was still getting used to how many other kids were around, all the time, and how much more difficult it was than he'd thought it would be to be away from his family. He missed his one-on-one lessons with his dad, and the way his dad's magic would cover him like a blanket when they read together on the couch. He missed his mum's cooking and the way he could go to her with any question and never feel like a nuisance. He missed his brother. Connor was his best friend, even when he was an annoying little berk, and Harry wanted to share all of his excitement and frustration with him. Except he couldn't, because letters weren't enough for this.
That whole first week, Harry had kept wishing he was sharing a room with his brother instead of five boys he'd either never met or only seen at formal events. The dorm was uptight, and it was wearing on him. He could see it was uncomfortable for Luc too, which only reinforced Harry's determination to be friends with him.
Harry felt drawn to the dark-haired muggleborn. Luc had been one of the first people he met on the train ride, and that meant something. All of the adults had told Harry stories of meeting their best friends and their nemeses on their first train ride, but it was Uncle Moony, the most sensitive of any of the adults in Harry's life to the flow of magic and the call and interaction of different auras, who offered him new insight before his own journey.
"Have you ever wondered, Harry, about our magic's ability to interact intuitively? When we aren't questioning why our magic does something, should we be?" Remus had asked, letting the questions linger in the air. He gave Harry time to think on it, but continued before Harry could respond. Harry hadn't complained. He'd just allowed Remus' voice to wash over him. Uncle Moony had that comfortable, informative lilt to his voice that Harry thought would have made him a great teacher if he weren't so happy working with magical confections.
"It's when our magic acts so subtly we don't realize it has emerged from our core that we must remember magic is everywhere, is omniscient even when those who wield it are not," Remus had said. "It's no coincidence that your parents met on the train, that Sirius and I met on the train, that James, Sirius and Snape met on the train." Harry's eyes had widened as he realized what Uncle Moony was getting at, and it all made so much sense.
Remus had confirmed Harry's thoughts when he added, "Gut instinct is magic moving so slowly you don't notice it. Magic wants to inspire passion. Magic wants to create sparks. It's why wands rejoice when they meet their witch or wizard, why bonds sing and squirm in search of their soulmates. Think about how much our magic guides us," He'd implored, gesturing his hand at the way Harry was tapping his fingers against his knee. He'd been using that little tick for months to keep time with his core.
"You already have to wrestle with your magic," Remus reminded him, "and we've all had to keep a hold of our emotions to prevent a magical outburst before. So really, what eleven-year old is able to resist the draw of their magic as it guides them to people who their core can sense will become important to their life?" Harry had sat there stunned. "I thought the train ride was supposed to be the easy part of going to Hogwarts," Harry had whispered, a tad sullen. Remus chuckled and pulled a bar of chocolate out from his robe pocket.
Harry's lips had turned upwards against his will when his uncle broke off a piece and passed it his way. The slight smile turned into a thankful grin when Harry took a bite and tasted his favorite chocolate-marshmallow combination. "I didn't tell you this so you'd be worried about the journey, Pronglet. I'm sorry if that's what you got from it." Uncle Moony had sighed goodnaturedly, as if he were rolling his eyes at himself rather than Harry. "You don't have to force anything, and you don't have to be someone you're not. I sure wasn't, when I met Sirius and your dad. All I meant to suggest was that if someone comes to your compartment, you pay attention. Sirius didn't betray your confidence, but I get the sense you might be headed in a different direction than we were. Whatever you have to consider as you choose your friends," Dang, Uncle Moony really was too smart for someone who came off so meek. "Remember that your magic knows more than you think. Most of the visitors you get will come for a reason, even if they don't realize it. Now, want to help me jinx the unopened bar of chocolate I have in my other pocket to turn your dad and godfather's hair neon green when they inevitably swipe it from my robes?" Remus had waggled his eyebrows in passable imitation of Pads and Harry had laughed and agreed. The resulting prank war had been totally worth it.
When Lucas had knocked on the compartment door on the train to Hogwarts, Harry paid attention. Lucas Fraser had bright, mischievous blue eyes, a kind smile that had turned sheepish when he first told Harry, "I'm new to all this magic, but it seems so incredible!" and a hunger for this new world that thrummed through his eager posture as he leaned forward to examine the titles of Harry's books and made his magic sing in the air around them. They had talked for hours as the train rolled closer and closer towards Hogwarts. Harry had encouraged Lucas to ask questions and had shared that his mother had been new to their world too, when she got her letter.
Lucas had admitted later that Harry's openness on the train was what convinced Luc to hear him out and wait during that harried conversation before Transfiguration when he was so upset over how the first few days in Slytherin had gone for him.
None of it was simple. Harry had needed to figure out how to explain the mixed views on muggleborns without scaring an eleven year old who was new to their world. Slytherin House was conservative and even Harry, with all of the lessons he had been given, found it difficult to navigate at times. Luc, open, warm, and eager to prove himself, was floundering. There was just so much he didn't know about the world he had stumbled into. Harry had spent days wracking his brain for methods to introduce Luc to some of these things without overwhelming him. He decided to start with house elves. One weekend, when they had finished their homework early, Harry had talked Luc into joining him on a trip to the kitchens to beg food from a house-elf. Harry had brought along his invisibility cloak and, after their snack, the two boys had gone exploring.
They had tried to keep their giggles to a minimum when they had bumped into Draco while sneaking along a fourth floor corridor that afternoon. Malfoy had gleefully snubbed Lucas' introduction during the opening feast and it was deeply satisfying to try out one of the prank spells Harry had learned from his Godfather on the git. The blond-haired boy's yelp of surprise when steam shot out of his ears had left both boys grinning madly beneath the shelter of the invisibility cloak. They could hear what sounded like the warning horn on a train echoing behind them as Malfoy tried to complain or call out to a professor but couldn't do anything other than make various bell and whistle sounds.
Riding high on the success of their little victory over Malfoy, the boys found an abandoned classroom and spread out the veritable feast the elves had given them. Harry had watched with glee as his new friend's eyes widened in surprised pleasure when he tried some of the mooncalf cheese Harry had requested from the kitchens. It was one of Harry's favorites, and the house elves had given them toasty slices of fresh-baked bread to spread it on.
New foods and tough conversations went hand in hand over the course of the term. Luc would take small bites, savoring the new flavors and listening while Harry dove into the more difficult topics. It had been a learning experience for both of them. Many of the questions Luc had asked had been ones Harry had never thought about before and the search for answers had been enlightening for both of them.
In turn, Harry had approached Persephone Tonks with a request for help explaining some of the wizarding basics to Lucas. Harry had known Persephone pretty much his whole life. They didn't see each other all the time, but Pads made sure to introduce his favorite cousin's children to Harry and Connor when they were younger. Nymphadora and Persephone Tonks, or Dora and Persy as they preferred among friends, were fun and gifted and, most importantly, neutral Blacks.
As a half-blood who had the reciprocal experience to Harry's, Persy could help Harry offer the right information to Lucas with an understanding, empathetic perspective on his newness to their culture. Harry was a primary Heir with a muggleborn mother. Persy was a second-generation witch with a muggleborn father, an untitled last name and a new establishment. They had both been educated as fully as possible in wizarding ways, but they respected the non-magical world and how difficult it could be for first-generation kids at Hogwarts. Especially in Slytherin, which was the least patient with its first years. Together they used what free time they could all scrape together to teach Lucas about the wizarding world. Traditional greetings, holidays, the basics of magical creatures and plants, wizarding areas and landmarks, and, a necessity for Slytherin, a primer in Wizarding Britain's politics. Blaise Zabini had even begun to join them for these random sessions towards the end of term.
Harry had felt his magic surging in triumph the first time Blaise had offered to play a game of chess with Lucas in the common room after he and Harry had finished a match at the beginning of October. He and Persy had discreetly fistbumbed when Theo Nott had willingly paired with Luc during Defense Against the Dark Arts a few weeks after that. November had really shown results, as more and more of their traditionalist classmates started making overtures towards including Lucas in conversation.
Before Mabon, the only members of their Slytherin year group who would choose to partner with Luc were Harry, Persy and Monica, and all three of them rotated to make sure they were still interacting with their other classmates and keeping up with their other friends, cousins, etc. in other houses. After the autumn equinox when students from across all houses and years had seen Lucas walking into and out of the forest with the rest of those who attended the public bonfire, Blaise, Roslin Shacklebolt, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis had all slowly integrated Luc into their circle of interaction in class and at mealtimes, as had those from other houses who had noticed his presence. Harry had also seen Cassian Lestrange and Theo take notice of the fire-leaf ivy, autumn crocus, myrtle and the plaited grass that crawled up the posts connected to Luc's headboard.
The gradual admittance of Luc as a member of their cohort rather than a nonentity to avoid had been, not exactly a coup, but a nonetheless significant shift that felt like a reward for the trio's efforts over those first two months. Blaise had been a really informative addition to their sessions after Samhain, and, for his own sake, Harry was pleased at the quiet friendship that had grown among them since the Italian wizard had joined them.
Conversely, Harry tried not to judge Cassian and Theo or any of the others too harshly for their indifference and distancing from Luc. Both had been childhood friends with Malfoy, who, along with Parkinson and Moon, had made his disapproval of Luc clear from their first night in the dorms. Cassian, like Persy, was also Malfoy's cousin, but their mothers got on better with each other than they did with Mrs. Tonks.
Not to mention, Harry knew that Cassian and Theo's families raised them differently than Harry's had raised him and Connor, and while cultivating first-generation wix was important, it didn't always succeed. Sometimes people just thought the wizarding world was eccentric and quaint in its traditions, amusing but out of touch with the reality of the world today. They never asked 'why' wixen did things a certain way, just assumed it was ridiculous and outdated and needed to be dragged into the modern era. Harry had gleaned from an overheard conversation a few years ago that his mother had been one of those wix her first few years at school, so he tried not to judge even if his dormmates did.
Harry had been to the non-magical world plenty. His mum made sure they visited their grandparents and went to the movie theatre and shopped at Harrods, so Harry could sort of see where those opinions came from. The wizarding world didn't have awe-inspiring skyscrapers and aeroplanes and televisions (although that would be a work in progress if that technomancy study was successful), but they did have magic. Magic was such an obvious difference that Harry thought it reasonably followed that their world had other important differences to the non-magical one.
Harry didn't think it was crazy to want newbloods to understand the whys of magic and wizarding culture. It was the same kind of logic as his mum saying it would be ridiculous not to understand electricity or the world wars or any of the other things about non-magical society that Harry had learned.
Some wizarding families simply told their children not to get involved. They said it was best to let newbloods either seek the knowledge out on their own or return to the non-magical world if they preferred it so much. Harry had heard it said often enough at various garden parties and holiday events, but his parents had encouraged him to help anyone who wanted to learn, and Lucas had been full of questions and I want to understand's.
Of course, Harry, Persy and now Blaise were learning alongside Lucas as much as they were teaching him. Now that they'd reached the end of first term, most of the disparity in everyone's comfort levels with magic had evened out. Even pureblooded families who considered themselves highly superior didn't teach their children much further into the Hogwarts curriculum than what students would see on their first set of exams.
Not to mention, for all that any of their families could coach them on how to navigate Hogwarts and Slytherin politics, it was all just speculation and advice. Being in the castle and actually participating themselves was new and fresh to them all. Everyone had made mistakes. Everyone. Harry was still beating himself up over the way he fumbled his request to Hestia Carrow for help with Potions and the time he had lost himself in a book about beginning elemental charmwork when he was supposed to be meeting Leonora Shafiqat at a nighttime star-gazing social with the Ravenclaws.
The biggest change that Harry had learned alongside his friends and allies alike was the importance that Slytherin placed on mealtimes.
Meals were never meaningless. Attendance was mandatory on various levels. Gathering under one banner in the great hall served as a show of visible house unity. It was the perfect setting to hold etiquette lessons for the first-generation younger years and etiquette checks for the wizard-raised.
Additionally, meals were the perfect backdrop to work out the negotiation tasks that Professor Vector set up for certain students every month. Harry had noticed that all of the first years had received assigned achievement goals each month, but that plenty of upper years didn't have a list of tasks to accomplish via trading favors or exchanging information. He, Cassian and Theo had all agreed to seek out possibilities and listen to any whispers on why their year group was different and share their findings.
Meals served all of these purposes and more for the house of green and silver, and it all happened at the furthest table to the right each and every day under the other three houses' noses. The Great Hall was public, neutral territory and Slytherin was all about training its snakes on how to both play into and subvert appearances simultaneously. Everyone expected the snakes to look posh and put together, to be plotting but be too secretive to do so in public. Slytherin taught there was no better environment to make a deal than one with a hundred people around who had no idea what was happening.
In turn, that meant being prepared for each and every meal. He couldn't remember the last time he'd walked into the great hall without a semi-tamed head of hair, a polite expression settled on his face and a game plan. Including seven a.m. breakfasts.
It made waking up so late this first morning back home with his family a startling juxtaposition from his routine during the term.
Harry had almost tripped down the stairs in Connor's haste to get them both to the kitchen after he'd finally succumbed to his brother's prodding and pulling. The sun was high in the sky already, and Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes when he saw it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in so late.
When the pair stumbled into the kitchen, Mum was humming while she poured the batter for pancakes, stirred a saucepan of treacle syrup (Harry grinned and wiped the remaining remnants of sleep from his eyes when he saw her making his favorite breakfast) and tended to the bacon.
However, when his dad came down the stairs, Harry's magic went on alert. His father squeezed Connor's shoulder as he walked past and went to ruffle Harry's bedhead, but Harry had jolted straight up in his seat. His hands were frantic as he tried to flatten his hair and smooth his pajamas. His fingers searched out any drool or stray eyelashes, and his back snapped into proper posture so fast that a crack echoed out in the room. Harry's magic felt sharp and reactive, snarling and frustrated at being caught off guard.
It took seeing his dad's wide eyes for Harry to realize how over the top his reaction had been. Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he realized today was the first morning since his second week at school that he hadn't meditated and calmed his magic before seeing another witch or wizard. He willed his cheeks to stay pale, but he could feel the warmth of his embarrassed flush spreading across his face. It was just his dad, for Merlin's sake! He shouldn't be reacting like this, even instinctually. Especially instinctually!
Harry's good mood soured. He couldn't conceal the redness in his cheeks, but he refused to cry no matter how frustrated he felt. He pinched his thigh lightly, hoping the flash of pain would stave off the tears he could feel building.
"What was that?" Connor's confusion broke into Harry's thoughts. His brother's face was scrunched up and his hand had paused in its reach for the pitcher of juice Mum had put out for them before they trooped downstairs.
"Har," his dad was hesitant, and Harry could hear his bracing inhale in the quiet of the room. His mum had stopped humming and a quick glance over at the stove showed that she'd pulled out her wand and set the utensils to tend the food so she could focus her-shoot shoot shoot-worried eyes on what was happening around the table.
"Are you okay?" His dad paused when Harry's mouth opened and closed without answering. "Do you want me to pull my magic in?"
At this Harry swallowed and shook his head. "I-Sorry." Harry sighed and forced himself to slump slightly in his seat. "It's been a while since I've been around matured magic and not made sure I was fully awake and at my best. I had to train my magic to recognize any authority figures' magic at school, so I just kind of automatically started trying to spruce myself up."
His dad grimaced in sympathy and leaned down to press a kiss into Harry's sleep-rumpled hair, making sure to be slow and obvious in his approach. "I remember what that was like, even if Gryffindor was less observant of that expectation. My parents, unlike the rest of my dormmates', allowed me to be lax at home, so it was more of an adjustment for me that first term and then the first few weeks back after the summer hols each year."
"Doesn't help that a little crup came in and dragged me down here straight out of a dead sleep, leaving me no time to meditate the way I normally do." Harry grumbled pointedly at his completely unrepentant little brother.
Connor kicked out at him under the table and grunted when he hit one of the legs of Harry's chair instead. Harry snorted quietly.
"So you have to be 'presentable' before you go to breakfast every morning?" Connor asked, clearly perturbed at the idea.
James and Harry both nodded, but it was his dad who told him, "Each house has a different standard of presentation, but yes it's expected that all students, especially wizard-raised students, be alert and put together by the time they leave their common rooms. You know how you're expected to behave at the seasonal gatherings. These standards of behavior for the houses are another version of that standard. Your uncle and I trained Harry and gave him some practice at getting ready to the Hogwarts standard in the morning, and we already have it planned to work the same kind of practice into your lessons starting in March."
"It's pretty intense," Harry admitted. "Slytherin is the most demanding at mealtimes, but we have some opportunities to be a bit more lax with each other elsewhere." His mum hummed in agreement, probably thinking about some of the things Severus had mentioned while they were at school.
At Connor's pinched look, Harry made sure to explain, "Professor Vector was very upfront about how meals work in Slytherin. On a personal level, we aren't allowed to miss a meal unless we have Madam Pomfrey's permission. She was borderline severe in telling us that," Harry shivered at the memory of her fierce expression, "and the prefects made sure to reinforce that rule. Meals are also important in that we are able to interact with other kids in our houses who are outside of our year group. There are other traditions to Slytherin meals, but I won't bore you with the details. They won't matter unless you sort Slytherin too," he told his brother with a grin.
"Don't bet on it," Connor huffed. "Not sure I'd go there anyway, but definitely not if it means sitting so straight first thing in the morning."
"Fair enough," Harry told him, shrugging and pouring himself a glass of juice. "It's not for everyone." He laughed to himself as he remembered how ruffled Tony Goldstein had been that first week at the Ravenclaw table. "And there are definitely times where I want to roll over and fall back asleep but can't, so I get it." He shot his brother a smile, and Connor sent one back as he pulled a piece of bacon onto his plate.
"I've heard from others that each House has a different setting that is valued as highly as Slytherin does meals, so you'll still have to pull yourself together no matter what house you choose, Bug." Connor's disgusted groan set their mum and dad chuckling as well.
James ruffled his youngest's hair as he tucked into the pancakes Lily had brought to the table.
"And what are you lads planning to get up to today, hmm?" He asked. James watched as Connor opened his half-full mouth to inform Harry about the seeker's match he'd been talking about having with his brother for the past two weeks. He had purse his lips to hold in the amused smile that threatened to overwhelm his face as Harry chewed thoughtfully and swallowed before easily agreeing to his brother's plans. James could feel Lily's half-surprised entertainment at how hard Harry was clearly trying not to correct Connor's table manners, and he tried to control his pride.
Sirius and Severus had both told him about how Harry would likely have changed even after only a single term. Both of them thought Lily would have more measured reactions to the differences in their son, so they didn't worry so much about reassuring her that Harry was still Harry. He had bristled slightly at their assumption he wouldn't accept his son when he returned, but James had never forgotten his initial reaction to Harry's mark. The moment when Harry's face had dropped from joyful to nervous all because James had worried what a connection to the possible Lord Voldemort would mean would stay with him forever. It remained the perfect reminder of the cost of doubting his children, of worrying about the wider wizarding world before his family. He had promised himself never again, and he meant it. So he could appreciate Pads and Severus' intentions even if he didn't need the reminder. Still, it was nice to have a little more insight into what his son's Hogwarts experience had been like so far in comparison to his own.
That being said, they couldn't prepare him for everything, like Harry's magic jumping in frightened agitation when James entered outside of Harry's line of sight. James could admit to himself that it had stung a bit, but he knew that Harry's magic in its unbonded state didn't necessarily reflect his son's feelings. He wanted, more than anything, to bundle Harry up and into their practice parlor to get him used to James' magic again. James was so tempted to bribe his son with Moony's Yuletime peppermint chocolate bark so he could hear all about Harry's friends and classes and adventures so far as his magic drifted in the air around them. Letters about Harry's term just didn't do it all justice, but it'd be selfish to take up Harry's first morning back in Potter Manor for himself.
No, instead he would call Harry into his study later, after the boys had finished flying. As much as James wanted to take to the skies with them, he knew Connor had been missing his brother something fierce and wanted this time alone with Harry. Not to mention that James had plenty of paperwork to prepare for the January Wizengamot session that he wanted out of the way so he could focus on Yule and Harry being home.
He also needed to put the finishing touches on both boys' gifts as well as collect and review Harry's House Training assignments that he had hopefully finished up this past month.
Sirius and Severus would be stopping by in the next day or two. Harry had been corresponding with the pair of them just as much, if not more, than with him and Lily. James could admit, in the privacy of his own mind, that it stung a little. Lily was the one who was the most frustrated about getting some updates via their friends rather than from Harry's letters, though. James knew that as Lords and a Slytherin alum in Severus, their correspondence with Harry was important to his success at school. Harry's communication with the family was still open and fun and teasing, even informative at times, but his conversations with his godfather and uncle had more details about alliances and power shifts and all the other things Slytherin made eleven year olds worry about even beyond what Families asked of their Heirs.
Still, just because James and Lily didn't have to worry about politics to that level during their school years doesn't mean they didn't have insight to offer their son! I'm a Lord too! And I was an Heir in school. I know there is strategy behind most every decision anyone from a titled family makes as well as all the Slytherins and most of the Ravenclaws. I could help!
James kept his face serene as he brooded, careful not to alarm his children. Harry was growing up so fast. He just wanted to be useful, to not miss out on these moments that would disappear all too soon. Lily looked over at him as he sullenly stabbed at his pancakes while Connor was still regaling Harry of the different two-player games they could play in the air now that Harry was finally home. He felt a little nudge on his end of the bond as a tendril of her smokey magic stroked inquisitively against his own. James looked up, pasting a smile on his face, but his wife knew him better than that. With a slight raise of her eyebrows Lily made it clear she didn't believe his half-hearted smile for an instant. James just sighed softly and inclined his head towards his study, indicating he'd fill her in later. He felt her foot lightly rub against his calf before pulling away and knew his smile had shifted from fake to real as he tuned back into the conversation happening around him.
"So, besides spending too much time on a broom, what else do you want to do while you're home Har-Bear? Don't go crazy with any requests, but I know all of us, not just Connor, are excited to spend some extra time with you. Oh, and I have those rune notebooks you asked me about in one of your letters." Lily's eyes narrowed playfully as she peered at her son. "As long as you promise me they'll be used educationally-in addition to not in place of your actual coursework-instead of for mischief, I'll let you take the first one back with you."
Harry's pleased smile lit up the room, and James felt his frustration fade slightly. There was nothing withheld or muted about his son's excitement here, even if he couldn't show such honest emotion when eating breakfast at school. They could do that, offer Harry that safety, even if they couldn't be his main advisors, James reminded himself.
"Thanks, Mum! Do you mind if I start looking at it while I'm here and can ask you a few questions?" She nodded while Connor sulked at the idea of Harry wasting time on studying when they could be playing together. "I have been having this itch that something is missing in my charmwork and I feel like even just familiarizing myself with actual runic characters would help, even if i'm not memorizing them or drawing them or anything like that yet."
"Oh, well done, Harry. Have you mentioned that feeling to Professor Flitwick?" Lily asked, pride and excitement warring in her voice. She didn't even give Harry a chance to answer before she continued on, eyes sparkling and the ends of her hair flicking and curling. "I brought a similar question to him at the beginning of my third year. We had just started Ancient Runes and I could tell something had clicked. I started learning more about my magic from your dad only a month or two later, and it really all started to come together once I thought about how wand movements and the structure of-well,"
Lily cut herself off as all three of her boys grinned at her rambling. She waved a hand at them in response as if to shoo their smiles away. "You'll figure it out, either from my notes or on your own. We can talk about it later if you want. So, did you talk to him?"
"No," Harry said, "I wanted to try and figure it out for myself first, which is the main reason I asked for your notes. I don't have any firm ideas as to what's missing, or I didn't." He sent her a cheeky grin in thanks.
"Main reason? What else do you have planned for your mum's rune journal?" James interjected once Harry took a breath.
"Oh, I thought it would be easier to introduce runic languages to Lucas through notes written by another first-generation wix rather than try and explain them or give him one of the runic syllabaries to look through." Harry told them, making James cock his head to the side and think about whether that would make character-based magical languages easier to understand and having a hard time seeing his son's reasoning.
"How would that help?" he asked.
Harry finished his last bite of pancakes and crossed his fork and knife over his empty plate, forcing Lily to try and hide a smile. James could tell Harry caught it anyway as a light flush ran up his neck and he refused to look over at his mum.
"It's less about the actual study of the subject and more about giving him the chance to read Mum's thoughts as she processed what runes were when she was first learning about them, if that makes sense?" Harry offered. He tilted his head to one side, and his eyebrows scrunched up as he struggled to put his thoughts into words. "Mum has a perspective that the rest of us can't offer Luc. Runes are more natural to us. We see them everywhere and use them in casual ways that already feel normal to us, but Luc thinks of runes more as hieroglyphics. Something puzzling and outdated, rather than a usable language or outlet of expression the way you taught us to think about them, Dad."
James' magic warmed and he had to keep a tight grasp on the tendrils that wanted to reach out and dance in the air. If there were ever a day he needed a reminder that he had taught Harry valuable lessons, given him the knowledge he needed to succeed in this world-even a Slytherin version of it-today was that day. Blessed be my considerate firstborn.
"I'm not sure if it will actually help him to see how Mum grew to understand that aspect of runes, but it's worth a try, right?" Harry finished. Lily nodded, flicking her wand to send their empty plates to stack in the sink and begin rinsing themselves.
"Just don't expect him to read what I wrote and automatically understand, okay? It's not a bad idea for him to have a concrete example of another first-generation wix adapting to wizarding norms, but it won't help him make the jump himself, Har," she reminded him gently.
The excitement on his face lessened, but Harry nodded his agreement, brow furrowing in thought. Before he could get too down about it, Connor asked if Harry was finally ready to grab his broom and head outside. Three peals of laughter filled the kitchen. Harry's grin returned, sharp and competitive as he narrowed his eyes at his brother and said, "Not sure why you're in such a hurry to spend the next few hours losing to me, Bug, but yeah, let's go."
Harry was up and walking swiftly toward the broom shed out back before Connor fully realized what Harry had said. James chuckled again and counted down in his head. Three . . . Two . . . One . . . Connor's chair scooted back, squealing against the floor with a noise that made Lily wince as he jumped out of his seat. "OH YOU BETTER RUN, BEAR! You're just scared you've gotten rusty without being able to practice at school!" He shouted, racing after his brother. "You've probably been too busy smoothing your hair down to remember how to catch a snitch," James heard him taunt as the door swung shut behind him. Lily muffled a laugh in her hand and they exchanged a warm look.
"Oi!" Harry yelled back, his voice echoing clearly through the open window as he mounted his broom and shot off towards the warded area the boys usually flew in, "I'll show you exactly how to catch a snitch when I beat your annoying little butt! Don't forget, you were the one that wanted to do this."
James got up to help his wife finish cleaning up their breakfast, pressing a kiss into her fiery hair as he edged around her on the way to the sink with three empty orange juice glasses clutched in his hands. He could feel more than see the small smile that broke out as her side of the bond echoed with fondness.
"You know, we can do the dishes with magic," she said, gesturing to the dishes that had dried and stacked themselves off to the side of the sink below the cupboard they usually occupied.
James turned to roll his eyes at her, making sure she could see. "I'm aware," he said drily. "I just need something to do with my hands so I don't fold to temptation and go out there to join them."
"Or is it so that you don't let your frustration at seeing your son fear your magic loose on our recently-redone kitchen?" Lily asked, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist.
He sighed and leaned back into her embrace, letting her take a little more of his weight even as he continued to wash the glasses and silverware in the warm, soapy water. "A bit of both, I guess." He could feel Lily turn her head and rest her cheek against his back as he admitted, "It hurt. I don't blame him. Hell, I understand it, but still. He's mine. Of my flesh, of my blood, and it only took four months for him to forget the feel of my magic."
"Jamie, c'mon now. Don't be so hard on yourself or on Harry." Her voice rumbled, still a little rough in the early morning before she'd had a second cup of tea. "He probably had to work twice, three times as hard as the other boys to condition his magic to recognize and warn him about adults coming around him." James winced in sympathy for his son.
"It's less about you than about how there's only so much Harry can control with his magic like this," Lily continued. "You remember how often our cores went against our instincts when I was the one fighting the bond,"
James didn't want to admit it, but he knew she was right about all of it. The painful memories of his core full to bursting with displaced magic, shooting clods of dirt towards his dormmates when they surprised him ran through his mind. Despite the fact they were his best friends and his magic knew them, he'd simply reacted and then apologized as they tried to pretend it didn't bother them. Gods, he hated thinking about the years Lily wanted nothing to do with him. Even the years in which she tolerated him and let him teach her about the ways of the wizarding world were difficult to dwell on, full of insecurity and fear and sorrow for the way his core had throbbed, acting out against Sirius and Remus more than anyone. They hadn't had it easy either, but they never complained. James didn't deserve them.
"I love you," he told her softly.
"I know you do," she whispered, apologies thrumming through their bond like a river even as they stood in the silence of their connection for another moment.
James didn't realize his hands were trembling until a fork clinked against the lip of one of the glasses. He sighed and put the fork down, gesturing with a finger towards the soap so the rest of the dishes would finish themselves. He turned in his wife's arms and laid his head atop hers, pulling her in tighter to his chest.
"It felt like it used to when you would rebuff me when I walked into a room," he said. Lily didn't offer him another apology or console him that Harry's instinctive reaction wasn't the same or that she would never rebuff him anymore. She knew he knew that. It didn't need to be said, and it wouldn't change how it had felt to see his son startle in his chair, feel Harry's magic lash and buck at the brush of his own. She just squeezed him tighter.
"It'll get better."
"I know. . . . It still sucks for now, though."
Her startled laugh at his summation of the situation was a tad wet, but it brought them out of their melancholy. The both jumped a little as they heard far-off joyful crowing faintly through the open window.
"I'm glad they can have this, even with all the changes and even though Connor likely won't follow him to Slytherin," Lily said. James nodded. "They're so good for each other. Sirius says they remind him of his pre-Hogwarts childhood with Regulus, but happier, thank Merlin."
They stood in silence for a moment, savoring each other's warmth, before Lilly added, "Light-years better than Petunia and I once I'd gotten my letter, that's for sure." She kept her tone casual, but James pressed a kiss against the crown of her head. It always surprised him how little bitterness Lily carried toward her horrid shrew of a sister. James couldn't imagine feeling the same in her place.
"We gave them that, you know," she said, satisfaction sliding down their connection and wrapping around James as snugly as her arms. "Whenever I feel like I'm useless to Harry while he's at school or when I remember how we started," she breathed in deeply and let the air out slowly through her nose, releasing the remembered pain, "how I pushed you away and went on to isolate myself from my sister, my parents-whenever I lean towards bitterness or regret, I look at those boys out there." James stroked a hand up and down her back and followed her gaze, watching the outlines of their sons whirl through the air in search of the practice snitch.
"I've made a lot of mistakes, said and done things I can't fully take back," Lily said, "but I made them. We made them. And we gave them a home where they could love magic and wizardry and muggles and each other exactly as they are, regardless of ability or affinity. We did that. We're doing that, even when it feels like Sirius or Sev are helping him more at school, we're the ones who have made their home a place of freedom and acceptance."
They both stood there, wrapped up in each other and taking in the sight of their boys soaring in the distance.
"You're right." Lily added, tilting her head back to look up at him., "It kinda sucks right now, but this feeling is temporary. The love we have for each other is permanent, including the love your independent eldest son has for you, James."
In the distance, they saw one of the brooms pull up out of a sharp dive and heard Harry whoop in victory as he caught the snitch.
"Everything will work itself out," he murmured. Lily hummed her agreement at his side.
"Harry, lunch is on the table and the afternoon post is here!"
"Be down in a minute, Mum!"
Harry finished the sentence on what made the jab a more efficient wand motion in Transfiguration in comparison to the flick more often seen in charmwork before he laid his quill aside and cast a drying charm on the still-wet ink. His dad had taught him that spell the week before he had left for Hogwarts.
He'd only been home a week, but Harry wanted to get his holiday assignments out of the way as much as possible before the upcoming Yule celebrations. They only had twelve days left until the celebratory period began, and Harry had gifts to buy and altar preparations to finish, as well as social letters he needed to draft for Vector's year challenge. Harry had already knocked out his essays for Potions, Charms, Astronomy and Herbology. All he had left to complete was McGonagall's Transfiguration assignment and the spell diagrams for Defense.
When Harry walked into the kitchen his mum was the only one in the room, settled down at the table with the weekly rune puzzle, a sandwich cut in half, apple slices and a small salad with mixed veggies. He saw the platters she'd set out on the counter and made himself a plate, pouring too much strawberry vinaigrette on his salad, just the way he liked, and joined her at the table. A few letters were splayed out next to his normal spot. The post owls must have been in a hurry.
He glanced at the envelopes and saw he had letters from both Persy and Luc today as well as a note from Marrion and what looked like an event notification from one of his Ravenclaw classmates. Hmm, he thought, looking over the invitation to the winter tea that the Patil Family was putting on for their Heiresses' birthdays, I'm surprised I made the guest list. Hopefully it's not during one of our commitments. I bet Su Li will be invited to this, and I've been meaning to have a real conversation with her beyond introductions. I should write and test out if Neville got an invite as well.
He pulled a spare piece of parchment and a quill out of his robe pocket, which prompted his mother to mutter, "Could've been a 'Claw too, no doubt." Harry huffed a laugh and started making notes on the likely guest list and what he could write to Neville before he opened Luc's letter. Harry was excited to see his friend had written as he'd been hoping Luc would answer the letter he sent yesterday checking in on how things were being back at home. Once he had finished his notes, he started in on Luc's much-improved scrawl.
Harry,
Thank you again for the book on Yuletide traditions you (and your parents) lent for my family to read throughout the past month. Mum and Dad, not to mention Arran and Finley, are not completely sold on straying from our typical Christmas preparations, but they have compromised on celebrating both Christmas and Yule. (I'll admit I'm excited for another set of presents midway through the Yule celebration. Do you celebrate Christmas with your mother's extended family at all?)
My parents are trying so hard to be supportive, and they've asked more questions than I have answers to. I was wondering-well, you mentioned this before but I was hoping you still meant it-would it be alright if my mum wrote to yours, or perhaps we could meet up before the full holiday season begins? I really don't want to be the only one in our dormitory to not celebrate Yule, but I don't want to make my family uncomfortable, and I don't know enough to set everything up myself. I just think they might be more receptive after talking to other adults rather than only hearing about it all from their eleven-year-old, recently-discovered wizard?
Also, I totally get what you were saying about how different it feels to be home. I know you're still able to use your wand with your family, but I miss magic. It's so weird being away from the castle and the hum of its walls. I've been keeping up with the exercises you taught me, but I've found it much more difficult to reach into my core here at home. My magic's been acting up a little with the distance from a constant outside source of magic, I think. When I notice it-I am finally getting better at recognizing where in my body it is at any given time! That's one good thing about being away from the castle-my magic feels concentrated, condensed? I'm not sure if that's the right word for it, but it presses up at my fingertips or in my throat like it wants to escape. You said magic is feeling, is like intuition. I think mine doesn't like being isolated or unused after four months at school.
So can you ask your parents if your family will meet mine in Diagon to shop for Yule presents and maybe have a meal? Please, for my sake? Picture me with my hands clasped and eyes pleading at you, "Harry, you're my only hope." (Have you seen Star Wars? Tell me you've seen Star Wars. If you haven't, we will be having words.)
Oh! Before I forget, have you been able to speak with Mr. Black? I'm still practicing my penmanship-is it quillmanship in the wizarding world? That's bizarre.- but I think I may be ready to send my letters. Can you look over a draft when we're back at school? Have you sent any of yours off yet?
Mum says I have to come help string popcorn for our Christmas tree, so I'll end the letter here.
Hope to hear from and see you soon, but if not then blessed Solstice and happy Yule!
Luc
Even with other letters to read and the necessary response to Padma's invitation, Luc's request needed to take priority. Harry would have to move fast if they wanted to actually plan a day for their families to do more than exchange greetings. He wasn't worried about his mother's agreement to Luc's hopes. Mum would be thrilled to write to another mother about their boys, and Harry was certain he could convince his dad to make a trip to Diagon despite the crowds. I'll have to meditate for a while tomorrow morning though. My magic is still a bit agitated after exams, and he won't allow us to go if I can't keep it under control.
Harry had realized about a week into the term that residing in the dungeons that were coated in Slytherin Family Magic was affecting him. At first, Harry had attributed the increased franticness of his magic to the omnipresent press of power that encircled the castle. Harry had always been a bit more sensitive to magic in his training, and he'd spent the past year reaching out and feeling for unknown magic just so he could practice sitting calmly in its presence.
He knew how to convince his core that the foreign magic wasn't hostile, but he hadn't prepared himself to convince his core that his counterpart's magic wasn't actually surrounding them. His soulmate wasn't there, keeping him warm in the common room or tucked into his bed in the dormitory, but Harry's core didn't know that, couldn't distinguish the very similar magics. So, his magic constantly rose to the surface, bubbling on his skin and coiling out in search of a connection with its match.
It had taken a while, two and a half months to be exact, but Harry had finally found a method of calming his core that had allowed him to loosen how tightly he kept his magic wound. His performance in classes had improved dramatically, enough for multiple professors to comment on his refinement.
Now, being away from it for a week, Harry once again had needed to adjust how he calmed his magic. It was easier being away from the teasing embrace of Slytherin's magic. His magic didn't have to strain like it did at school as it reached out for the echo of Tom, but even with the comfort of the Potter Family Magic in the walls, Harry's core mourned at the perceived lack of its partner.
Tom's magic was a siren song that haunted Harry regardless of where he went. Whether he was in Hogwarts, Potter Manor or Diagon Alley, Harry's magic would always be reaching for Tom's. That was just the way of things with this half-opened bond. Still, his dad had been even more protective than usual since Harry had returned home, which he didn't mind, really, but found a bit odd.
He'd need an ally.
"So, Mum . . . remember when you asked what else I wanted to do while I was home on break?"