AN: Uh. Work everywhere. Life tip: don't send your thesis to your advisor last minute, forcing them to be working on it in intensive mode. It'll make them hate your work. If I wake up one more morning with yet another new version of the thesis in my inbox, I'm gonna scream.

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Seamus' parents did not, in the end, agree to his birthday party taking place in the Manor – Harry overheard Alduin saying something about them not wanting to seem like his vassals, but it made no sense to him, so he assumed he heard wrong – but the Gryffindor first years met in Diagon Alley for an ice cream again, at least. There was also the Malfoy party and, in fact, a Travers party soon afterwards, celebrating Alduin's and Alexandra's first wedding anniversary.

And apart from that all, too, Harry way having a good time. Even his studying-obsessed cousin agreed to give him some time off after his exams and return from school, though he had warned him that he would certainly want to do some reviewing and going over the new books later in the summer. But for now, Harry's days were entirely free, and he spent them by flying and by visits from Neville, Ron and Draco – the last one, of course, always separately. Harry asked Draco to bring Theo on one of those visits, but Draco told him that Theo's father was unwilling to let him go, and asking Daphne seemed strange, so they kept to themselves.

Harry was also spending a lot of time with Wynn. Babies were more of a mystery to him than complicated potions, and he watched, fascinated, as Litty, the house-elf in charge of Wynn, changed his diapers, or as Alexandra bathed him. He still tended to get embarrassed when the baby was breastfed, but Alexandra laughed at him for it, saying it was the same as if he got embarrassed when he watched Alduin eat dinner. Harry didn't entirely agree, but whatever he thought about it, it was hard to pull his eyes away, because Wynn was so fascinating. During Easter break, he had been so very small and fragile and slept most of the time – and cried the rest. But now he was much more active, and Harry went to his nursery every day to spend some time with the child as it lay on a blanket on the floor, showing colourful toys at him and trying to make him grab for them, watching him smile and even laugh his little baby laugh, and thinking he had never seen anything so precious in his life.

There appeared to be a lot of science involved, though. Alexandra watched Wynn very carefully and seemed inordinately pleased when, one day as the baby was lying on his belly, he raised his head and looked around. "What's the matter?" Harry asked.

"This is one of the very important things babies have to manage, Harry," she replied. "It indicates he's developing well, physically at least."

Harry was bemused. It seemed like such a small thing!

He also spent a lot of time catching up with his friends who weren't at Hogwarts yet, naturally, or with those from different years and houses that he didn't get to see so often. The Shafiqs came for tea soon after Harry returned from school, so he had an opportunity to spend time with Abdulaziz, and he spoke to Horatio at garden parties. Gamila has grown up, too, but the biggest surprise was definitely Ginny Weasley. Harry hadn't seen her for a year, and when he did, he found her transformed. She was no longer shy and quiet, and instead, it appeared she could rival her twin brothers in liveliness, though she was, perhaps, less destructive.

She was going to Hogwarts this year, and when she came with her mother to visit Alexandra, she questioned Harry relentlessly about the school.

"But you must know everything from your brothers!" Harry defended himself.

"Pff. Percy doesn't have time for me, Fred and George only tease, and Ron is unable to tell me anything of interest. But I did hear you were allowed to play Quidditch in your first year already. How did you do that? I don't want to spend a year without a broom!"

"I didn't know you played," Harry said, surprised.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yeah, my brothers don't have much idea either. But I do. I love flying."

Harry considered. "Well...the way I did it was do some really outrageous flying during the first class, but it worked only because McGonnagal felt we needed a new Seeker. But the thing is, the team's in a pretty good shape now, and no one's graduated, so..."

Ginny sighed. "Typical."

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Alduin was only now beginning to fully appreciate the difficulty of his task in telling Harry the contents of the prophecy. Seeing him so full of joy and happiness during the summer, surrounded by his friends and without any worries, it seemed impossible.

In fact, he would have been tempted to just give it up as a bad job for this summer, and wait till he himself was feeling a little more steady – if such a time would ever come – but he had Alexandra on his heels, asking him at regular intervals when exactly was he planning to tell Harry.

Of course, that wasn't the only thing she kept asking him, if not with her words then with her eyes at least, and finally, he cracked under the pressure and decided that even admitting to Abdullah that he had a drinking problem would be less painful than enduring this constant fear of her going to him herself.

That, of course, had been when he was facing Alexandra. Now he was facing Abdullah in his own study, and was beginning to doubt his estimate. He dearly longed for a fortifying glass of whisky, but considering the point of the meeting, he didn't think that would create the best impression.

"Alexandra thinks I need to talk to you," he blurted.

"It's not the best testament to our friendship if you need your wife to order you to speak to me," Abdullah commented archly. "As I recall, you needed her to arrange it last time, too. Is this becoming a theme? Has something similarly alarming happened?"

"Not exactly. In fact, it's effectively still the same thing."

Abdullah grew more serious. "That's natural enough," he said. "You can't expect to just get over such news, and neither can she expect you to. I'm sorry I can't help you more."

Alduin shook his head. "She doesn't expect me to be fine, I think, but she does expect me to...avoid certain dangerous coping mechanisms."

Abdullah gave him a questioning look.

"I drink," Alduin said plainly, pushing all of his feelings about it behind his occlumency shields.

"Yes, I am aware," Abdullah said with a long suffering sigh. "And none of my speeches over the years-"

"No," Alduin interrupted him. "I mean that I drink more than I should."

"You mean-"

"Yes. I'm an alcoholic."

Abdullah only stared for a moment, speechless. "Why didn't you say anything?" He asked then, quietly.

"What was there to say?"

"Anything! I'm your friend, for God's sake – forgive me – and you should talk to me when you feel down, not turn to drink!"

"You have a family to spend time with. You hardly have time to babysit me," Alduin pointed out, ignoring his religious faux-pas. Under the circumstances, he thought it was perfectly forgiveable.

"I can't give you all my days and nights, no, but that doesn't mean I have no time for you!" He paused. "Is this because of the coma? Do you feel like you can't talk to me because of the nine years-"

"That's a problem you had, not me," Alduin reminded him gently. They had to get through that when he first woke up, find their way back to each other. "You spent nine years without me, not I without you."

"I know, but that's what I mean. Is this why you feel I would no longer make time for you? Because it's not true."

"No, that's not why." Alduin could see, however, that Abdullah did not believe him, and he saw a familiar look of guilt in his eyes that he remembered from those weeks after he woke up, too. "Stop it," he said. "I'm supposed to be the one who always feels guilty, out of the two of us."

"I don't want you to," Abdullah replied with a small smile, "so maybe that's why I'm taking it upon myself." He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's put my feeling that I'm being a terrible friend behind us and concentrate on the matter at hand. When did you start drinking?"

That was quite a loaded question, wasn't it? Alduin sighed. "That depends. After I got the news about the horcrux, is one answer. After I heard the prophecy, is another. I stopped for a while around the time Wynn was born, but the horcrux news made me relapse." He shrugged. "The first time I got really blindingly drunk since Harry came to live with me was in early December, but that was just a one off occurrence."

"And before Harry came to live with you?" Abdullah asked, clearly worried.

"Well, I spent many of the nights in the first month after I returned from hospital drunk," Alduin explained. It had been most of them, to be honest. "I guess I didn't drink quite as much, though, and I slowly stopped as I had more and more work to busy myself with. It affected my productivity. You know the hangover potions stop being effective after a time..."

"No," Abdullah said slowly, "I wouldn't. But my knowledge of Potions, meagre as it is, tells me that you have to drink quite a lot for them to stop." He gave Alduin a searching look. "Did you drink before the coma?"

"Well, yes. Since the day my parents died, till the day they took me," Alduin replied like it was obvious.

Abdullah looked desperate once again. "Why didn't you say anything back then?" He asked.

"At least you know it wasn't because of the coma," Alduin replied evasively.

"Yes, but why?"

Alduin sighed. "I don't rightly know myself. Maybe I was afraid I'd say too much, to you? Remember that I was suddenly he head of my house, at twenty. I felt there was a lot I had to live up to. Perhaps it's also that you've always had your life together more than I did, even before this."

"Don't say you were jealous of me, because I won't believe you."

"Not jealous, not really...but still. Things like the whole affair with Mercurius didn't happen to you. Maybe I thought you wouldn't understand."

"Did you just compare your family's death to a schoolboy crush someone had on you?"

Alduin frowned. "It was more than that," he said, "but never mind." He paused, hesitated. "I don't know, really," he said then, "I'm just trying to guess what I was thinking back them."

Great, he though to himself. Now I'm lying in the middle of what is supposed to be a frank, therapeutic conversation. But what could he say? In truth, he didn't need to guess – he still felt the same as before the coma, in this respect. He detested talking about this to Abdullah. Intellectually, he knew it was because he detested feeling vulnerable to anyone, and especially to his ever-perfect best friend, and he also knew it was not a constructive approach. But knowing that didn't make it any easier to admit, and he didn't feel obliged to. He had already admitted enough for one day. For one life, really, if he had any say in it.

Abdullah shook his head. "We got sidetracked again," he said, "or I did, I suppose. So, yes, the first step: pour out all the alcohol you have in your house."

Alduin stared at him. "And what, I'm going to offer my guests lemonade?"

"Yes," Abdullah replied, like it was no big deal.

"No," Alduin corrected him. "The main motivation I have to get this under control is the good of my house. I won't stop drinking only to have the reputation ruined."

Abdullah frowned. "Fine. So keep the port and the Madeira, and pour out the rest."

"I need at least some whisky around to entertain people," Alduin objected.

"No. That's your poison of choice. Even I know that. As long as that remains in the house, you won't get better."

Alduin stared at him, unwilling to relent. Abdullah stared back. Alduin realized he had never quite appreciated how strong-willed his best friend was.

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After this, Alduin gave himself a few days to regain his equilibrium – such as it was, these days – before he had one glass of whisky to steady his nerves and took Harry aside one morning. He had not drunk anything for the last few nights, hard as it had been, but this, he thought, was surely a justifiable occasion.

They had no party or visit scheduled for that day, and he hoped it would provide Harry with a bit of time to come to terms with what he was about to tell him.

The weather wasn't exactly stellar at the moment, so they ensconced themselves in one of the drawing rooms, and Alduin began. "After what happened at Hogwarts before Christmas," he said, "I contacted some of the people I know at the Department of Mysteries, and, as your guardian, gained access to the prophecy about you."

Harry stared. "So it actually exists? Did you hear it? What does it say?"

Alduin sighed. "Yes, I heard it. It...announces the birth of someone with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. He is to be born at the end of July, to parents who have defied Riddle thrice already, and Riddle is meant to mark him as his equal."

"And...you think that means me?" Harry frowned. "I mean, yeah, I was born at the end of July, but I don't know anything about marking, and I certainly don't feel like I have a special kind of power. And did my parents really defy Riddle three times?"

"They did. And as for the marking..." Alduin pointed to his forehead.

"The scar?" Harry seemed surprised. "How does that make me an equal?"

"Well..." Alduin hesitated about how to explain it, firmly shutting the door on that scream that wanted to escape him. "There's the connection to him you have in it, that manifested as pain when you met Quirrell. It probably appeared accidentally, but, nevertheless, it's likely what the prophecy means."

Harry's frown deepened. "I don't want a connection to Riddle!"

You don't know the half of it, Alduin though and fought the desperate urge to laugh, sanity forsaken. "Yes, I can understand that," he said after a moment to calm himself, "but nevertheless, you do have it. As long as he's not back, it's mostly irrelevant, but if he does come, we will...start thinking about getting it out."

"Why not right away?"

Once again, it cost Alduin some effort not to give away his feelings as he replied: "It could be dangerous for you, and usually these sorts of spells are the more dangerous the younger you are."

"Oh. Okay then...but what about that power?"

"It's open to interpretation, but I can tell you it's certainly not something as straightforward as being able to cast stronger spells. It's said to be a power the Dark Lord doesn't know. Nevertheless...well, let me tell you the rest of it first."

"That wasn't all?"

"No. It says, and I quote, 'either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives'."

Harry crunched that in his head for a moment. "So...I have the power to kill him, but if I don't, he'll kill me?"

"Yes."

Harry considered it. "Well...it's kinda good news, isn't it? I mean, we already knew he still wanted me dead, he proved that at Quidditch last year. This means I have a chance."

That was certainly one way of looking at it. Alduin had to admire Harry's positive outlook. "Yes," he agreed, waiting for more of a reaction, when it didn't seem to be coming, he cautiously added: "Like I said, it's probably not going to be about flashy magic in the end, but nevertheless, I'd like to start teaching you some bits about Defence and strategy you're unlikely to cover at school. If Riddle comes back, he might send Death Eaters after you, and you'll need to be able to survive that as well, before you can even use your mysterious power."

Harry raised his eyebrows at him. "Didn't you say I shouldn't be too prejudiced against them, that they had very little choice and all that?"

Alduin gave a deep sigh. "That holds true now, when Riddle's gone. But the moment he comes back...once they joined hi for whatever reasons, he has very effective means of punishing them, and only very few are as brave as Professor Snape, to turn against him. We will have to tread very carefully then."

Harry nodded, and seemed ready to leave when he hesitated. "This is the prophecy my parents died for?" He asked.

"Yes," Alduin confirmed heavily.

This was the first moment in the entire conversation when Harry appeared truly upset. "Why did anyone make it at all?" He asked angrily.

"Harry, Seers don't choose to make prophecies. It just comes over them, and they predict."

"Oh. Still, it seems like such a stupid reason...you said it was overheard?"

"Yes, but it occurs to me that I didn't discuss this part with Dumbledore when I talked it him about it. I will have to get back to him, because we need details. I know the Death Eater in question was discovered and kicked out of the place at some point. So did he hear all of it? Does Riddle know the entirety? I'll have to check."

Harry nodded, and seemed to hesitate again.

"What is it?" Alduin asked.

"Juts...can I go upstairs now? I'd like to...think about it."

"Of course, Harry. Take as much time as you need."

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AN: I think that if Harry learned about the prophecy when younger, it would have been easier for him to digest (also it not being in extremely traumatic circumstances helps, obviously), since he wouldn't be quite able to grasp all the implications...

Also, can anyone tell me what that thing where babies raise their heads when lying on their bellies is called? We have a term for that in Czech, but I have no idea what to call it in English.