Eighteen: been looking for the answers, ever since we were seventeen

I'm still glad Salllzy doesn't mind reading my pieces, because oh dear this chapter needed some love and help. Also, on her advice I'm turning the story into a series, which means we're nearing the end of the first one. I have already written loads for part two, so no worries. This does mean that the main title might change. I don't know how to do this on FF . net, so let me know if you mind reading it here as one big story.

So if you're in the mood; search for these songs, and start playing them while you read. The marks will be placed after the subtitles.
A. First aid kit with My silver lining
B. Celtic woman with Carol of the Bells (I needed to get in the mood for Christmas)
C. André Rieu (Johann Strauss Orchestra) with Bolero, M. 81 - from "10"

Previously: We go back to the past where Harry deals with his first year after the war. He writes with his friends, and worries about the ones who he barely sees. He receives a howler, and Kreacher is protective over his 'Dark Master'.

In the now, Daryl and Harry get close during a conversation, in which Harry trusts some information upon the hunter, so that the man might understand the bond between Ron and himself a bit more. Merle gets to ask his fifth question, and life is just that: life.

Past time Into Harry's life (music: A.)

Dear Hermione,

How are you doing? I've heard a few things through Ron and Ginny, but I've missed your letters.

Let me know if you need anything. I'm here if you need me.

If you want, you're welcome at Grimmauld for Christmas. I haven't got much planned yet, but there will be enough food if Kreacher gets his way. He won't even allow me to cook. He also doesn't swear at people anymore; owls and other things are still a problem.

Love,

Harry

Hello Harry,

Thank you for inquiring after me, but I've been really busy, and I can't let anything lead me away from my studies after the extensive break we had while on the run. I do not regret that, but I need to keep focused on what I want.

I appreciate your offer for staying at Grimmauld Place, but I think that I feel better by staying at Hogwarts for Christmas. This is my last year, and I have to revise the last few years, including the added stress from last year: I want to finish strong. You know I want that job for the Wizengamot after my graduation.

I'm still not happy that you and Ron decided not to go for your N.E.W.T.s, but so be it. At the end that is your own decision. I do believe my arguments still fall on deaf ears.

I wish you well.

Love,

Hermione

Dear Draco,

Trust me. I've been trying. I just lie awake every night. I will fill you in when we meet in person; some things just can't be said over a letter. Don't worry, your father already threatened me with Narcissa. Don't know who's scarier; old Voldy or your mother. I haven't decided yet.

Ron was grateful, but he's still in-house. I barely see him on Sundays, because I don't have the time to visit the Burrow, so we sometimes catch up after dinner. Maybe I'll go tonight. Maybe I won't. I can't wait for you to be done with this year. I miss you. Although Healer training might just be as rigorous as Ron's training is now. Who knows. At least you already know how to lead an estate. I somehow don't envy your youth right now.

I might drop by Hogsmeade if you want. I can rent a business room, and you can bring some like-minded people over. Take Ginny and Luna as well. Are they treating you well? No troubles? Severus has told me a few things, but not enough. I haven't exploded a cauldron yet, but who knows? I'll keep you posted. You have the first right to my memories if I do.

Love,

Harry

Dear Hermione,

As I have said before, you don't need to worry. I am doing independent study with some awesome tutors. I will get my N.E.W.T.s, one way or another.

Thank you for your reply. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything. Good luck with studying - knowing how prepared you are - that won't be a problem. Hogwarts is indeed quite beautiful during Christmas, so enjoy that.

Love,

Harry

Potter,

Stop putting that bloody hexing woman on me. I'm fine. I am eating, as opposed to someone else I know of. Wankers, both of you.

Ron has an inkling of an idea who is sending him the food. Use that supposed Slytherin side of you before he starts rejecting it. We both know he sends more than half of his wage to his parents. Ask my father for help if necessary; he's good at disguising things.

Love,

Draco Malfoy

Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy

Ps. Mother. The answer is mother, Potter. Never piss off a Black.

Pps. Now that I think about … damnit Potter-Black. Well, my dearest cousin; make sure the Black-madness doesn't get you one day.

After defeating Voldemort it seemed that everyone wanted a piece of Harry. Almost literally. At first, Ron and Arthur held everyone at bay in person, and Lucius did the same on the public side. With Andromeda and Narcissa at his side, Harry prepared for what was about to come.

He knew he had been avoiding people. Actively. He just couldn't be bothered.

Ginny had been the one who had sent the first letter, trying to talk about their situation. He appreciated her. Harry had been afraid that she was still lingering on their relationship, but the youngest Weasley knew what she wanted, and how she wanted it. He should have known better. In her second letter she had explained to Harry that while she loved him, it had been more of a sister-brother vibe, and she wanted a partner who would treat her better, and not be busy all the time. She had also said that she did not blame him, or ever would, nor would speak about it to the public. They were still family after all.

It had shocked him, but he had been glad to have those matters settled.

He had replied in kind, and so their letters were just fun and games. Their correspondence was friendly, mostly Ginny ranting towards paper, and Harry answering that or giving some 'brotherly' advice. Taunting each other through Draco mostly, and just talking about their days in general. Nothing more. After a few letters, she had spoken out that she didn't want to push, but that she would always be a friend if he wanted to talk.

Tonight, however, he was re-reading her latest piece of prose, and it felt off. It did not feel like she had written this herself, although it looked like her handwriting. Gone was the banter, her quidditch ramblings, her latest date with Ernest, her hexing Draco in his name, lunches with Luna or any mentions of the spells and hexes they had been sharing through the secret paper.

It also had not been a Hogwarts owl who had delivered the letter, but a different owl. The whole thing just felt wrong, and two of his Lordship rings had buzzed with the magic attached to the letter.

Maybe it had been a joke, to see if he would respond to her, or someone had pretended to be Ginny, to get through his mail wards, because that piece had been truly some lame and fake romantic drivel if he had ever read it. As he had better things to do, he had dropped the letter in his special desk drawer for these occasions and had drafted a new letter towards the fiery redhead, ignoring her latest message. They would see each other during the Christmas break at the Burrow, and he would question her himself if needed. To be honest, he forgot about it after a while.

He wrote a response to Severus who had inquired about his attendance, drafted a questionnaire that needed to go to Lucius, and ordered Ron a few meals for his next few shifts at the Auror restaurant. This time he sent Kreacher with it. Harry knew Ron would forget to eat otherwise or not have enough money left for it. All the Weasley brothers helped pay the costs at home, since Arthur had been forced to stay home to care for Molly. She hadn't been the same after the war.

He replied to Arthur with an answer to his Christmas invitation, and sent Bill a few things to look at. After he put his fountain pen down, and sent most of the letters off per owl, he wrote a few personal letters towards people who had wished him well, and called on Kreacher for dinner. Dinner for one sounded really good right now.

Past time Christmas, the Burrow(music: B.)

Christmas time at the Burrow was always as chaotic, warm, and disorganised as ever, but it felt like family. There was still the underlying loss of Fred, but with George firmly planted between Bill and Charlie, it seemed that the lost twin managed to stay upright at least. But Harry could be completely wrong on that level. People had assumed that about him as well. Maybe he needed to contact George again. Offer him a few kind words. Maybe go out for drinks together; kindred souls and all that.

He had hugged everyone when he had shown up, dressed by Kreacher so that he wouldn't embarrass the Noble House of Black, but Harry had sneaked a Christmas sweater in without the Elf knowing, because a full robe was way too much at the Weasleys. He had lost his cloak, and robe when he had entered, but had kept his red golden tie for this festive day under the bright green, Nordic-like sweater with twinkling lights.

He did feel more comfortable now that he could dress, even though Narcissa and Draco had been the ones who had selected his complete wardrobe. He guessed that that would never be his strong suit.

As oblivious as Harry could be sometimes, he did notice that Ginny was behaving a bit weird, as opposite to her letters towards him. She seemed to be glued to his side, and was asking him loads of things, while he tried to strike up a conversation with Bill about some legislation that Gringotts was fighting for. When he tried to help Mrs Weasley with some food, Ginny seemed to follow him, and would ask him weird questions. Somehow he did not get the chance to talk to her alone, to ask if she was alright, because every time he did someone would interrupt.

The smell of cinnamon wafted along, while Harry drank from his hot cocoa, and ate some small bites from his plate. Molly had been forced to smile all evening. She seemed to be angry at anyone and no one. Fred's loss had cut deep, but 'loosing' Ronald as well, had been too much. He understood her, and decided to be the first one to leave after dinner.

The food was as delicious as ever, but Harry had gotten spoiled with Kreacher's dishes, so it wasn't as abnormal as it had been before. Not that most knew anyway.

"So Harry," started Arthur, as he helped Molly clean the table with some magic, as she prepared their dessert. Treacle tart especially for Harry, as she had winked when announcing the many tarts, and treats. "Any idea what you want to do next?"

"I'm really in over my head, Arthur. Although Lord Malfoy helps out a lot, it's in my hands to keep and manage all the estates that mostly have been left dormant. There is so much to do, and not enough time. I'm the last heir to three families, if you don't count the Slytherin line." Harry answered in all honesty. He was amongst family, and he wasn't afraid that they would treat him differently. "Adding my N.E.W.T.-training is at this point more than enough."

"I understand. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. You know you are always welcome on Sundays?" the man said jovially, with his usual warm smile.

"I know, Mr Weasley." And Harry knew and appreciated that.

"You are allowed to call us 'mum' and 'dad', you know," said Molly as she came back with a plate of treats for everybody.

As she levitated the plates towards everyone, she smiled sadly as she almost handed George a second plate, but seemed to realise what she did a few moments later. Most people just tried to ignore it, and the plate was shifted towards Ron very easily without the parents noticing.

"I know, Mrs Weasley, I do." It was a sore point. As much as he loved them, and they were family; calling Mrs. Weasley 'mom' was just not done. He had parents; they just weren't there anymore.

Absent-mindedly he rubbed the stone on his left middle finger, which was coated in so many wards and charms to not be seen by others, just as his two other Lordship rings. Somehow it sang to him, to watch out.

"Have you gotten many offers for courting yet?" Charlie asked with that trademark mischievous smile all Weasleys had.

"Unfortunately, yes. More than one. Lady Malfoy –" he didn't dare to call them by their first names right now, after Molly's side remark – "has answered most of them. Some were ludicrous at best. One was for a girl who was only thirteen years old, and the oldest was seventy years herself." Harry laughed, as he saw Ron's face darken. "The worst part is that she offered me her extensive knowledge as a wife as a wedding gift."

Charlie laughed out loud, while Fleur looked like she had eaten a full lemon.

"What is preposterou'." She said, while disapproving of the action. Bill just nodded his head that he agreed with his wife, but couldn't suppress a smile on his face.

"It was to be expected, but I can understand that you're not thinking about marriage or having more than one wife right now." He laughed. "It would be in your right, to be honest."

Harry's face reflected exactly what he felt. More than one person to deal with. He didn't even know if he wanted a wife or a husband. Luckily, the Weasleys were a family that loved banter, and now that the ice had broken, they all started.

Absent-mindedly, as Harry tried to take a bite from his treacle tart, he felt the tingle in his Black ring; the one that had the most protection on it to protect the Lord. The Potter ring was a protector, sensing danger and deceit whilst the Peverell ring glowed the more people were dying, or using heaps of magic.

It could be as uncomplicated as a health potion, or likely a nutrition potion, but after listening to Lucius how a blood-line could be kidnapped for heirs, he realised why many wizards and witches would choose one person to stay with for the rest of their lives. Magic would let you know if you weren't compatible, and with too many switching partners your magic could do strange things.

Harry felt guilty about it, but he banished the cake silently without anyone noticing, after he took a sample to send to Severus before he went to the bathroom, and asked Kreacher to exchange his drinks and food. He knew the elf had made tea for them when Ron and he would return to Grimmauld's place, so he had something prepared.

He tried not to let it ruin his evening, and he decided to act like a Slytherin, instead of a Gryffindor, and wait for the results.

In the end; it must have been the weirdest Christmas he ever had as Molly couldn't stop with questions about potential courtships, or ask him if he planned on a summer wedding or that he preferred an Autumn one. If he intended to take one wife and get at least three children, or spread his opportunities by wedding more than one wife. The reclusive wizard tried to spin the conversation in another direction, or just simply refuse to answer when it became too much, but it was weird. She wasn't a member of his house, and as much as he loved her: this was information that she did not need. Narcissa and Andy, as respective ladies of House Black, were the ones who should be dealing with this, and they didn't even do that.

As he did not sleep over at the Burrow, since it was maxed out by occupants, he floo'd in and out with Ron for two days. Their old room – Ron's room - was used by Charlie, since Bill and Fleur used his old room with Victoire.

It was unfortunate, but Harry had Kreacher replace all his food with a replica the moment his food hit his plate. Harry suspected the elf of spying on the Matriarch beforehand so he would not make the same things for tea later in those evenings, because the elf had made everything the same, and it wasn't distinguishable from the other plates on the table.

Let's just say, it was good to see everybody, but Harry was glad that it was over after a few days. He only had to endure everyone for Yule, before he could hide away again until the next holiday.

Past time Yule, Grimmauld's place

Harry had refused most visitors in the past months before Christmas, and so to get rid of everyone he had followed Andy's advice to hold an informal Yule dinner with a tea party later on for some extra guests. It wasn't because he wanted it, but it was a necessary evil as the woman had said.

Since he had been spending a lot of time over at the Weasleys, Harry had invited them all for dinner, in the large dining hall that Harry never used for himself. Ron and he still ate in the kitchens, to Kreacher's big dismay. The elf had been ecstatic that he now wanted to use it. For tea later that evening, he had invited some of his friends, people like Severus, the Malfoys, Andromeda, Teddy, and Filius and Minerva.

The hall had been cleaned by Kreacher and Harry, and it had been restored to its former grandeur, aided by the memories Andromeda and Narcissa had shown him. The wallpaper was a lovely cream colour, with light flowers in the design. The furniture had been restored by a specialist, and had been upholstered as well with a complimentary indigo floral fabric. The Black sisters had gone crazy, after Harry had given them the green light. The green table runners complimented that, and Harry had indulged Kreacher in letting him use the antique Yule decorations.

With the black candles in the brass candle brackets along the walls, and golden candle holders, it was a true feast; even for the eye. It looked like a room of grandeur, but with the little touches Harry had added, it also felt like a cosy, homely atmosphere.

As he came out of the kitchen that afternoon, driven out by Kreacher himself who had been muttering about Masters and not doing house elf work, he found Arthur in deep conversation with Charlie, as Fleur was sitting with little Victoire on her lap while Ginny was busy with the table décor. Somehow his décor which he had selected with care, had been thrown out, and Ginny was trying to match different vases with all sorts of random candlelight holders in ways that did not look very pretty. Harry wondered what was going on, and why she had decided to change his perfect table decor. He knew Kreacher would take care of it, so he let it be.

He did not want to antagonise Ginny even more as she had been in quite the mood over Christmas, and the fresh flowers she had brought along, looked beautiful across the house, so Harry decided against speaking out. He would be able to change it out before tea, so he could have her let that little gesture for dinner.

It did seem a bit weird, especially for a family that did not pay any attention towards any of those traditions, but it might be because Ernest was coming over for Ginny. He had sent the invitation to them. Who knew what was going on? Maybe she wanted to impress him, and who was he to let up such an opportunity for his sister?

When Ernest did not show up at the arranged time, and Ginny told him with a cold voice that she did not like him, because he wasn't as courageous as Harry had been, something nagged at Harry. It took a while, but then he remembered the letter that she seemingly had sent him, in which she had declared her full love for him, and that she couldn't wait for them to get married. Something in his head clicked, and he felt the adrenaline race through his body, the ice in his veins anticipating a fight.

When Ron joined them as he had been at work that day, and Harry softly questioned him about the events, Ron's eyes turned to steel. He stood up like he was hit by lightning, and pulled Bill to the side after the moment he walked out of the floo from Gringotts.

During dinner, which was unusually quiet for a dinner with the Weasley's like everybody felt like something was very wrong, Molly grated her voice and took the opportunity to speak. Harry had to bite his tongue to suppress a comment. This was not the time to be "all pureblood" as Ginny used to call it.

"My dearest Harry, I am happy that you joined our family dinner today. I am proud to say that you will be officially our son in the future." She smiled brightly, but there was a silence around the table, as Harry seemed to digest her words. She was in his house crying out loud; it was his job to speak first. He thought she had just wanted to say something.

Molly never really knew her place in these situations.

"Excuse me, Mrs Weasley?" Harry looked over at Arthur, who seemed to be shocked as well, and he felt Ron's hand on his thigh to make sure he wouldn't blow the house up with his magic. Not that the Black magic would let that happen, but you could never know with Harry. He always had been a powerful wizard, and he had gotten really powerful, even more after becoming the Master of Death, as Death had called it. "Did I miss anything?"

"Yes silly, our marriage contract was signed yesterday!" Ginny said with a bland smile. She was supposed to look like a serene Lady of the house, in her frilly dress, being in love with Harry. The fact that she never bothered to wear a dress if it wasn't necessary should have told him everything he needed. Yet all it did was give Harry a creepy feeling. Something was going on, and he wasn't in on it. He felt really clueless, and he hated that feeling immensely.

When it clicked, before the implications of her words got through to him, a part of the green-eyed wizard couldn't stop to think: 'that did explain the flowers'. Harry wasn't the only one who looked like there was something weird going on, even Arthur looked uneasy.

"That is very strange," Harry started with a voice that he barely recognized as his own, and he felt Death's magic engulf him like a warning of some sort. About what, he did not know. "Because I haven't signed off on any marriage contract, and I am the Lord of my own house. I do feel like something important like that would be discussed with me in person. Or rather; I would have been the one to initiate it."

"This one has been made by your guardian a few years back, mum just didn't want to sign it until I had reached my majority. I'm really happy that she did now." Ginny sounded really happy, but it was completely off. It should have been Arthur who should have signed off on it, as old-fashioned as it was.

Then, a realisation struck him as lightning.

She sounded like she was under Imperius or a compulsion curse. How he hadn't heard it before, he did not know, but he knew he had to tread carefully. One wrong move, and her mind could turn against her. She had been exposed to it before with the diary, and he wondered how vulnerable she must have been.

He touched Ron's hand now, and let those thoughts run through their familiar bond, as he heard Ron gasp. The Auror-in-training had a keen eye, and saw the same. He felt the anger rise on his right, as the rest of his guests stayed gobsmacked silent.

Yes, he was unfortunately right. He hated to be right.

Fuck his Potter luck.

It felt like the ground fell from under his feet, as he looked at the contract that was now passed towards him. His Lordship rings were protesting heavily with heady magic, and he decided to drop the charms on all of them to make them visible. A part that he had inherited from the Black side of the family, enhanced by the blood adoption, was his temper. Only rivalled by his mother or Bellatrix. He dropped a part of his glamour, which made him look less ghastly, and he turned towards Mr and Mrs Weasley.

There was no way in hell that he would accept that piece of parchment, and shoved Ron's hand down as he tried to pick it up in his stead.

"Don't." His voice was low and demanding.

Harry knew he had given Ron a command, and he hoped that his brother could forgive him, but even touching the damned paper, would accept it in the face of mother Magic.

"As the current reigning Lord of houses Potter, Black, Peverell, and Slytherin, I request to invite my chosen aid for this conversation before I choose my action. Would you accept, Lord Weasley?" Harry looked at Arthur, who seemed to blanche at the request. They all knew who he meant, but Arthur also wasn't in the position to deny him.

Yet he didn't say anything, but Bill did.

"As Heir to the house of Weasley, I accept your chosen aid. No more than two people, and they must be contacted within the hour." The anger towards the situation was there, and he saw that various wands had been drawn.

"So mote it be."

Present time Luna Park

Shane, John, Mack and Ezra were looking over the intricate drawings that had been made for the gates, with a disguised master Vilnuk who was pointing at something in the distance. They were afraid that there might be a breach somewhere and they were trying to figure it out between the four of them. Merle was on a hunt with Mitchell for food, while patrolling around the premises, and would join them later on.

Most of the gates were steel-wired gates that had been reinforced with wood and steel, somehow in an elegant manner. Just right before and after the fences, Neville had planted different kinds of bushes. Thick ones that were hard to get through, and would keep walkers out somehow. It was inventive.

John and Mack had done the wiring with the heavy wooden plates just after everything had happened, and the dwarfish man had been responsible for the steel. It was a good construction that protected them well, but Ezra and Shane were opting to work in another barrier with barbed wire to create a defence lane. Not only for them, but also for the animals that lived on the property. It would create an extra lane for protection, and if the need would arise, they could patrol from there and survey the walls themselves.

Not that Shane felt unsafe: he just wanted to be a thousand percent sure. At least these people did think about this.

"Damned things seem to be migrating to this side of the country." Mack leaned against the table, with a cup of coffee in his hands, overlooking the plans.

"No shit, the cities have been eaten clean, they have to be somewhere," Shane answered Mack who shrugged.

"I sometimes wonder how people are still surviving out there." John was smoking a herbal cigarette that Neville made for them. Same taste, just a bit different, and less addictive than the real stuff.

"Want one?" John had that whole cowboy look going for him, with the ripped-and-mended jeans, a flannel shirt, and a farmer's hat on his head.

"Well, don't mind if I do!" Shane accepted one eagerly, as did Ezra.

"Don't tell Mila," he muttered, and the men laughed. They bantered a bit and looked over the plans again.

The men all seemed alert, but relaxed. They trusted each other to have their backs. For Shane, it felt like he had his brotherhood back. This is how it had felt all those years at the station. Brotherly friendship.

"I'm surprised Neville made these, didn't know we had the resources for that," Shane questioned after a while, as Ezra was folding up a local map.

"He has loads of herbs. That used to be his work, he's a herbalist. So, with the leftovers and some extra stuff he cultivates with me, he makes them. I might have asked him. I couldn't just quit within a month, so yeah." John smiled.

Mack laughed. "John is probably even more addicted to ciggies than he is to his wife."

"Oi, asshole. You're supposed to choose my side."

"Nah, man. I don't." The brothers shoved each other with big smiles on their faces.

The men were looking over the ground plan again, as they smoked and drank coffee from their canteens, while they talked over which area was the weakest or should be fortified first.

"Well, did y'all leave somethin' for Merle?" The oldest Dixon could just be as sneaky as his youngest brother, so Shane tried not to act surprised as the man stood next to him with Mitchell in tow. He failed as he noticed Merle's half-smile turned into a big one. The man sometimes looked like a psychopath.

He was handed a mug of coffee instantly from Ezra, with a cloud of smoke from John that was lit with WWW-lighter, which everybody seemed to have. Mitchell got a cup of coffee as well, but without the smoke. Mila had been adamant about that, and Shane had seen the same murderous face on Juliana when they had tried to give it sneakily to the boy.

Never piss off a Southern woman.