It had been a week since that odd House Elf – Dobby – had warned him against returning to Hogwarts. He still remembered standing there in the entrance to Blackwall in shock as Dobby warned of terrible things, while not really saying much of anything.
Dobby had looked pained throughout it all – though how much of that was from Lispy's occasional whacks with her saucepan, and how much was the bond he shared with his family was anyone's guess.
Despite his warning, Dobby had essentially told them nothing. When asked what the threat to his person was, he would clam up and try to hit himself with any nearby object – it had startled him at first, though he'd quickly seen to the end of that, ordering the Black Elves to restrain the Elf.
It had taken time, but the little Elf had eventually been calmed, but yet no further information came forward. They had been forced to make a note of the warning, but without more to go on, they had decided to allow events to play out – what else could they do, after all?
The Elf had left, though not without delivering his warning once more, with a quiet pop, and the Black Elves had thrown themselves at fixing the house. In no time at all, Blackwall was back to its previous appearance, just in time for Arcturus's return.
That evening had been a tense affair, the warning still fresh in everyone's mind – Remus had arrived half-way through the fuss with Dobby, and they'd told Arcturus the second he'd returned to Blackwall. To say that the adults in Harry's life were vexed would have been a gross understatement – in fact, it had reminded him of when he'd regaled them the tale of Quirrell at the end of the year.
Sirius had wanted to pull him from Hogwarts immediately, and it had been one of the few times he had argued with his Godfather. Immediately, all he could think about was the time he would lose with his friends and the lost connection to his parents. Their argument had been loud, and more than a few ancient looking pieces of pottery had exploded when his magic had slipped from his control – such was his panic and his anger at the very thought of leaving the school.
While he enjoyed the professors and the content of the lessons, it was his friends that he most cared for there. He couldn't imagine not sitting in the Great Hall each morning and not eating breakfast with Neville and Hermione – or pulling faces at Daphne and Tracey when he caught their eye. The thought of not sitting in his little corner in the Common Room, with a thick book on the table before him while Neville and Hermione read their own in companionable silence – or even not seeing Hagrid's face light up when Clara arrived at Care of Familiars.
For saying that he'd only attended Hogwarts for a year, it had very quickly become a place very dear to his heart, and he couldn't wait to spend the next six years of his life there and learn all he could. Where else would he get the same education? America? Only four schools jumped out at him – Ilvermorny, Salem, Sunset Rock, and Fort Griffin – all were so far away, he'd lose touch with all of his friends. Europe? There were so many notable schools on the continent, each of them with such varied names and reputations – he couldn't imagine himself attending Instytut Iloxiths in Poland, or Instituto Fortaleza in Spain.
No – he would be dragged kicking and screaming from Hogwarts.
Sirius had pouted and scowled all through that evening, glaring at the meal before him as if it had personally offended his ancestors. Arcturus had been far more understanding, though his rage had been just as fierce.
As far as Harry was concerned, he was a child of House Black – and he knew Arcturus considered him a grandchild in his own right. None threatened a member of Arcturus's family. Instead of making inane demands, however, the head of the family had simply sat in his usual seat and quietly stewed over the warning, no doubt going over every variable he could think of.
Remus had played the Devil's Advocate, pointing out the advantages and disadvantages of both sides of the argument – though for the most part, he had simply tried to calm Sirius down. They had all discussed the warning well into the night, and over the following days, they all calmed somewhat.
Arcturus announcing that Harry would remain at the school had given him such joy, that he had been up and launching himself at Arcturus before he could stop himself. The usually stoic and aloof Patriarch had, in a moment of amusement, allowed his mask to temporarily be set aside as he knelt and returned Harry's hug just as fiercely.
He had, of course, made Harry promise to be careful and to take his armour with him – just in case. It was, after all, Arcturus who had insisted that they all wore armour in public since the closing of the War – it made sense he would ask Harry to take it with him come September.
In total, it had been a week since their return to Blackwall, and Harry had spent the time triple-checking his summer assignments, celebrating his exam results, riding Arlan and practicing what he'd learned at Arpton – he'd even showed off for Arcturus once or twice, and nothing could stop the swell of his chest at the proud smile on the man's face.
His assignments had gone well, and Harry found himself changing the occasional paragraph based on little bits of information he'd learned while at Arpton. The biggest example for this had been the Charms essay Professor Flitwick had assigned them – Charms and an exploration of everyday uses. He had learned so much from just watching the people of Arpton going about their business – like how the Blacksmith, Aron Cattell, used charmed hammers on some of his pieces, depending on if he needed an extra pair of hands – or even how the carts would unload themselves. He'd also made sure to word it in such a way that it couldn't be linked to Arpton, of course.
He'd had Remus check his changes over, of course, and after a further few alterations – mostly drawing examples to a modern home and even making a passing reference to Elf magic, he'd deemed it acceptable.
After that, he'd had his exam results delivered. He'd been proud to see so many O's on the parchment – though he hadn't been able to hide his annoyance at seeing the three A's in Potions, Astronomy and History of Magic. Sirius, ever the proud parent, had forgotten his annoyance for the time being, and had loudly celebrated Harry's achievement – often remarking his intelligence was definitely down to Lily, rather than James.
Arlan was more than happy to race about the estate in exchange for a bag of oats – Harry realised that the animals in his life, more often than not, required bribes to do thing that other animals just did. Clara, in exchange for delivering a letter, required Auroch meat and a new perch. Hedwig had a weakness for bacon – the crispier the better, and Arlan was a sucker for hulled oats. Though, if Harry were honest with himself, he couldn't help but think the Stallion had been spoiled rotten by Arpton's Stablemaster.
During all of this, of course, he'd spent time with Hedwig and Clara – the two birds, for once, sharing his attention calmly. Though, as he'd eyed Clara on her perch, he couldn't help but think it was the thought of her new perch that was keeping her well behaved.
He'd flown with the two of them, using his Nimbus to join them in their playful flight – something he couldn't help but wonder if Clara had missed during their tenure at the castle. He'd resolved to make a point of spending time at the Quidditch Pitch with the Phoenix during the next year. When Harry had approached the Snowy Owl with a stack of letters, the bird had hopped up and down excitedly and held her foot out. With a laugh, he had told her who to deliver the letters to, and she had been off not a moment later.
It had taken a little over a day for her to return with replies, and Harry had revelled in each and every one.
Tracey's letter had been the first he had opened – she'd spent the last three weeks visiting Muggle and Magical Zoos around Britain, marvelling at all of the animals. She'd then gone on to say how it hurt to see them all locked up, even if it was for the visitors' safety, as well as the animals. Her favourite creature, by far, had been the Dragon housed in the Welsh National Zoo a few miles outside of Cardiff. Apparently, it was two-hundred-and-sixty-three years old and was huge – it only being manageable for the zoo because of a shredded wing-membrane. Harry felt terrible for the Dragon at that. How must it feel, to be born to fly, only to know you'd never be able to soar again?
Daphne's letter had followed Tracey's. Apparently, she had been driven beyond madness by her younger sister, Astoria, and her excitement for the Black wedding on the thirteenth. The thought of Astoria bouncing off the walls in excitement was more than enough to get him chuckling. He simply couldn't wait for the girl to join them at Hogwarts next year. According to Daphne's letter, Astoria had caused even more mayhem by imprinting on a young fox but the letter neglected to explain any further.
Neville, as always, had spent the time in his Greenhouses, managing his collection. He had even added a number of new specimens to his collection, including a Venomous Tentacular which attempted to kill anything around it. There were days when he seriously questioned Neville's mental faculties – who'd want a plant that could kill you because you like the fact it smells like lemon? Neville had also written to tell him how excited he was that he'd found some of the original foundations of Long Valley Keep, but he didn't say what he'd found.
Hermione's letter had been the last one, telling him of the last week of her trip to Barcelona and how she'd visited the Magical District there and been utterly enthralled at the products available. She had gone on to mention once again how thankful she was at being able to attend Sirius's wedding, and had made sure to check he had done all of his homework. She'd gloated briefly that she'd scored straight O's except for Potions – he'd rolled his eyes at that.
The week after their return to Blackwall had passed quickly and led Harry to his current quandary – trying to weasel his way out of meeting with House Weasley. As it was, both Sirius and he were walking up a lane toward a large Estate House near Farway – it was hidden the trees in a small woodland, invisible to the naked eye unless one knew where to look.
On either side of the lane, tall English Oaks lined the path, their thick, arching canopies providing the blissful shade he yearned for in his leather gambeson. The metal gorget around his neck felt hot to the touch, even though they'd only been in the sun for a matter of minutes – even the sword on his hip was hot.
"Relax – you're making me nervous." Sirius chuckled, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Sorry." Harry mumbled as his foot caught a large stone and kicked it a few metres ahead by accident making him wince.
"You remind me of myself when Arcturus brought my father and I along to a business meeting when I was young." Sirius smiled, breathing deeply. "I think I'd have just met your father by then."
"Did he ever do anything like this?" Harry asked, resting his left hand on the pommel of the blade as they walked. As they stepped into a small section of the path that lacked any shade, he was suddenly thankful he hadn't been stupid enough to wear his cloak in the middle of August.
Harry felt the familiar tingle across his skin as they passed the Wards and he couldn't suppress the light shiver that ran up his spine. Wards always felt different, no matter where one went. At Blackwall, the Wards were fierce and imposing. Long Valley Keep, they were cold enough to make your teeth chatter, and the Greengrass family had Wards that felt like the build-up to a storm. Merlin, even Hogwarts had its own particular feel – ancient and reliable – they instantly made one feel safe, which was the complete opposite of Rosestone, which felt dangerous. Always there, prowling in the back of your mind, waiting and watching.
The Weasley Wards, in comparison, to all others he'd experienced over the years, felt like it was some odd sort of patchwork barrier. He closed his eyes briefly and allowed his magic to skim the Wards – a gentle caress, really – and marvelled at just how shoddy it felt. The Wards of The Den, the name of the ancestral seat of House Weasley, seemed completely at odds with itself and felt unbelievably weak.
"Once or twice, I'm sure – not so much in his later years." Sirius shrugged when Harry turned to look at him. "The war was escalating – less opportunities to sit down and lay out business plans."
"I'll bet." Harry snorted, eying Sirius's smirk.
The two continued up the path, and the house became more and more noticeable. Upon closer inspection, many of the threadbare curtains on the large, dirty windows were drawn shut and looked positively ancient. The outer walls were covered in thick ivy, and the once white paint was stained with greens and browns.
This was the Weasley home? He knew they were barely holding onto their title, but to actually see it was something else entirely. How long had they been in such a poor way?
The gravel beneath their boots crunched and shifted as they made their way to the front door, which opened to reveal Thomas Weasley – his thinning red hair wild and the slight swell of his belly pushing the robes at his stomach out just slightly. Harry had seen the man at the July session of the Wizengamot and had thought him a little disappointing, and, upon experiencing the man up close, nearly had him wrinkling his nose.
He was older than he'd thought – perhaps of an age similar to Arcturus. His features showed some of the handsome man he had
"Heir Black, Lord Potter – welcome to The Den!" Thomas greeted them, bowing a little at the waist with a jovial smile. Harry and Sirius bowed in response, as was custom. "Come inside and we'll see to Guest Right and get down to business, shall we?"
Harry glanced at Sirius out of the corner of his eye and relaxed slightly as he saw the reassuring nod. The two of them followed Thomas Weasley through the door, though Harry lagged a step behind Sirius as his eyes scanned the entrance foyer.
The foyer was dark, and many pieces of furniture were covered with white sheets. Portraits of dozens of red-haired Weasley ancestors looked down upon him as they whispered amongst themselves curiously. The small clatter of a tray drew his gaze to Lord Weasley, who was busy placing a few chunks of bread and a pot of honey on it. The man turned with a small smile and offered them both a small smile.
Sirius took the first chunk, dipping it generously in the golden honey before tossing it into his mouth. Harry followed, an absent part of his mind noting that they'd been offered a seeded bread. He dipped the chunk into the honey and found his mouth already watering at the sight of the sweet nectar.
The bread was fresh, still fresh from the oven, and the honey gave him that joy that could only be found in sweet foods. He chewed slowly, savouring the flavour as he watched Thomas partake. Guest Right was a sacred rite, of course, and had to be done properly – it was the next part he wasn't particularly looking forward to.
Still chewing, Thomas spun on his heel and hurried back to the small table where he deposited the tray gently while sweeping up a large goblet. With a grimace, Harry watched as Thomas took a quick pull and swallowed quickly before offering it to Sirius. Who, like the Weasley Lord, swallowed a mouthful of the liquid before passing it on to Harry.
Harry tried to keep his face impassive as the wine touched his tongue, but he couldn't help his facial muscles scrunching up on reflex – how anyone enjoyed wine, even the sweet, obviously homemade, applejack he'd just swallowed, was utterly beyond him.
Both Lord Weasley and Sirius chuckled at his reaction as he handed the goblet back to their host. Harry had been through the exchanging of Guest Right a number of times over the years – most notably the first times he'd visited Neville and Daphne in their own homes.
With the goblet placed back on the small table, Harry and Sirius followed the Lord through his unusually quiet house and into one of the rooms off to the side of the foyer, to a small family room with a trio of comfortable looking chairs around a small table.
Thomas sat first, letting out a small sigh as he gestured for the two of them to take their own seats with a polite smile. "Now, My Lords, I confess I was rather surprised when I received a request for a meeting with not just House Black, but House Potter also." Thomas began, looking between the two of them.
"We understand that House Weasley generates most of its income from farming and foodstuffs, correct?" Sirius began, reaching into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a folded piece of parchment.
"That is correct, aye." Thomas answered slowly. "Though the harvests for the last few generations have been abysmal."
"We're aware, Lord Weasley. I assume you're aware of the large debts owed to both of our Houses?"
Harry watched as Thomas blinked before sitting up a little straighter in his chair, his throat bobbing ever so slightly as he attempted to formulate words. "I was, though I'd hoped-"
"You hoped what, exactly? Surely you didn't think we would ignore the sums of money owed our Houses?" Sirius interrupted as he crossed his legs casually. Harry, despite his silence, found himself fidgeting in his seat slightly as his fingers lightly drew light patterns on the arm of his chair.
"No, of course not My Lord – I would never!" Lord Weasley said quickly as he leaned forward, his face flushing. "But I am in an unfortunate position, my Lords – I cannot give you what I do not have. House Weasley is falling each year, and I don't know if I can stop it."
"Have you gone to the Goblins?" Sirius asked, while Harry darted his eyes back and forth between the two men at the table.
"Many times, but if I were to begin liquidising assets, House Weasley would have nothing – lands, titles, standing, finances – it would all be gone." Thomas sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily.
The three were quiet for a time, Harry and Sirius watching Thomas worry at his forehead as he muttered under his breath. Harry took the time to glance around the room, noting the faded materials and the threadbare carpet beneath his boots. Even the chair he was sat in squeaked with every movement he made.
"My Lord," Harry began after a moment, his eyes continuing to dart around the room. "Where is your family? I'd have expected your Heir to be with us."
Thomas snorted and leaned back in his chair as he slowly rubbed a finger in the corner of his eye. "I have no wife and children, Lord Potter. My younger brother, Arthur, is my heir. My family were killed along with my other brother, Jack, in the last war."
"I'm sorry, I-" Harry began as his eyes widened, realising his blunder.
Thomas waved him off with a quiet chuckle. "No harm done, Lord Potter – you couldn't have known, we didn't, and don't, make a ceremony of it, and it was a long time ago."
"Still, I must apologise, Lord Weasley." Harry replied placing his hand over his heart.
Thomas inclined his head with a slight smile.
"As much as I dislike having to move the conversation back to our original point of discussion, but House Black and House Potter must leave this meeting with some form of repayment for the debts owed." Sirius sighed, placing the parchment on the table, and unfolding it.
Harry knew what the parchment said – he'd read it over three times just that morning at breakfast. It was an old contract drawn up between the three families dated over a century ago. House Weasley had taken out a loan from the two families for half a million Galleons each, and each time the debt had been due, an arrangement had been agreed upon to extend the date – that final date had come, and it couldn't be extended any further. The Goblins had seen to that.
Thomas sighed once again as his eyes darted back and forth across the page. Sirius had told Harry earlier that very day just how poor House Weasley was, and a small part of him felt genuine pity for the House – after all, he went to school with four of the Weasleys and shared a Common Room with them.
Ron had been, well, Ron – and despite the decent conversation's he'd had with the boy during the Christmas break, he'd had less and less opportunity to speak to him since the whole incident with the mirror at the start of the year.
The twins were always a delight – they reminded him of Sirius and Remus, though increased ten-fold. The Marauders had often been subtle in their pranks and school adventures – the twins had no such tendencies and revelled in the chaos wherever they went. It was little wonder that the two of them were both Beaters for the House Team.
Percy was the one of the four he'd had the least interaction with. Despite being a newly minted Prefect during Harry's first year, the boy had been aloof and distant from the rest of Gryffindor – perhaps it was the seriousness with which he held himself. He was sure the boy was friendly upon getting to know him, but Harry wouldn't hold his breath.
"This will ruin my House, you realise?" Thomas muttered, looking up at the two of them.
"What if it didn't?" Harry asked after a moment, frowning a little as an idea formed in his mind.
"Excuse me?"
"House Potter won't feel the loss of the money owed – at least not unless something disastrous were to happen." Harry began, shifting slightly at the sight of both adults staring at him. "Lord Black, as my Godfather, can arrange on House Potter's behalf for a new contract to be drafted with Gringotts, in which you pay the debt owed back in small amounts over a set period of time – a debt that can be lessened by the acquisition of some land."
Lord Weasley frowned, glancing between the two of them. "And which piece of land would you want in this proposal?"
"What about the land that has the Lovegoods on it?" Sirius interjected with pursed lips. "House Lovegood is a Potter Vassal and their lands are in Wales – it would make sense to acquire their land."
Harry nodded and turned to look at the Lord before them. Thomas's face was scrunched up in thought as he rubbed at the stubble on his jaw – the light scratching sound the only noise in the room. "Depending on the amount you would wish for, this could work. This still leaves me with the debt to House Black, however."
"What if House Potter and House Black took Wards from your own House? They could work for our Houses to pay off a chunk of this debt while you continue paying off your share?" Harry suggested, looking between the two adults. "Fred and George Weasley would be my suggestion."
He watched as Sirius rubbed at his jaw and nodded slowly. Thomas, however, was shaking his head slowly. "While I appreciate your offer, Lord Potter – I cannot have a member of my family serving beneath a child in the way you propose, no offence meant Lord Potter."
"None taken, Lord Weasley." Harry replied before Sirius could.
"House Black would take them both. For the coming years, they would remain at home – House Black would see to their schooling and any costs of living, of course. When they graduate, they would work for House Black until their portion of the debt has been paid. Would you find this acceptable?" Sirius suggested after a long moment, shifting in his seat.
The Lord Weasley was quiet for a time as he looked between the two of them, and Harry felt his gaze keenly. For saying that he had held a disappointing first impression outside of the Wizengamot, he began to realise the full weight of the man before him.
No longer was Thomas Weasley the slightly overweight, balding man in old, threadbare robes – instead, he was the Lord of an Ancient and Most Noble House, even if it was falling into ruin. Harry shifted a little uncomfortably.
"This is acceptable. I assume I should expect your lawyers within the next few days?" Thomas asked, raising a single brow as his eyes darted back and forth. Both Sirius and he nodded.
As Thomas began to rise, Harry held out his hand as he leaned forward. "My Lord, if you don't mind me asking – is there anything House Potter can do to help?" He asked, glancing briefly at Sirius. He'd expected to see some sort of confusion on his Godfather's face, but the blatant amusement almost made him grin.
"To what end?" Lord Weasley warily asked after a pause.
"Nothing underhanded – nothing that would even cause your House to owe mine. I know the Weasley's at Hogwarts, my Lord, and they are all fine young wizards you would be proud of." Thomas smiled at that. "I simply wish to improve their lives, if I can."
"It's a commendable wish, Lord Potter."
"What about the rumours of your lands being cursed?" Sirius asked with a shrug. "We could hire a team of Curse Breakers to sweep your lands and remove whatever they find. I also hear Arthur's home is in need of some work."
"Aye, Arthur's home is… unique in its design." Thomas chuckled before he sighed, looking at the two of them. "I'm not so proud as my ancestors, my Lords – if you offer your help, I won't turn it down."
"Excellent – you should no doubt expect the first team within the week, in that case." Sirius grinned, holding his hand out to the Lord Weasley, who shook it heartily. After a second, they released one another, and Harry offered his own hand. This close to the man across the table from him, and Harry could see the unshed tears in the man's eyes, and Harry felt something swell in his chest as he stood a little taller.
"Thank you, Lord Potter." Thomas murmured happily, his smiling face looking down at him.
Sometimes, Harry thought, the world would be such a better place if only people took the time out of their lives to help those they could. What a world that would be.
Harry stood in the entrance foyer of Blackwall alongside Sirius and Arcturus – Remus was outside at the back of the manor, ready to direct the guests to their seats, and Amelia was upstairs with Susan, the two of them wouldn't be venturing outside of their room until Sirius was chained to the altar – he'd assumed that one had been a joke, but, as he looked at the man next to him, trembling with nervous energy, he began debating his initial assumption.
The last few days at Blackwall had been hectic and had passed in a bit of a blur. As a child, he was forbidden from helping with the decorations – Lispy had threatened him with her pan if he even thought about helping the Elves, and Harry simply didn't know the spells to assist any of the adults.
Instead, he'd watched from afar with Hedwig and Clara, as the dozens of artisans that Arcturus had hired swept through the grounds. Six florists alone had turned up, each one casting spell after spell on red roses, tulips, carnations, orchids, and peonies to create large, beautiful archways for the guests and the newlywed couple to walk through.
Many of them were in the gardens, along with the large, open tent that Arcturus had erected all on his own – Harry had thought at least three or four wizards would have been needed at least.
He'd watched as the Elves prepared dish after dish, popping around the kitchen and the tent as they arranged the feast and set the places at each of the hundred tables that had been arranged. As a wedding between Noble Houses, there was a certain level of extravagance that was expected, as well as a certain length of the guest list.
Harry, whether it was his own lack of understanding or his relative immaturity among his elders, couldn't help but think that a large wedding, with guests you barely knew, was utterly pointless. Why should he care if some high-ranking member of the Ministry he'd never met congratulated him? As far as he was concerned, a wedding was simply between those involved and those they cared about.
Perhaps that had been why his father had kept his family from his mother? Maybe his father had just wished to live in obscurity. It was a strange thought – he couldn't imagine his life without knowing all those at Arpton he had come to care for, or for the lands of his that families lived on. It seemed that, with every answerable question about his family and its history, there were a dozen more that simply couldn't be answered.
He glanced to his left and cocked a brow at Sirius with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Nervous?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sirius replied, not bothering to look at him. Harry snorted and rolled his eyes as he pursed his lips a little.
"Oh, I'm sure." He chuckled, hearing the tell-tale crack of the first guests arriving just beyond the front door. Just as the door began to creak open, he felt the back-handed gentle slap to his shoulder and barely managed to contain the snicker.
He caught sight of the first guests and knew them simply from the sigils on their doublets and dresses – it was House Newt, House Black's principal Bannermen in England, so it was expected that they would be the first to arrive.
Lord Jacob Newt was a tall, broad shouldered man with sandy hair that was cropped close to his scalp. His robes were of fine quality with the deep maroon associated with House Newt. His wife, Lady Melissa Newt was clad in a fine dress with a square neckline and her auburn hair in an elaborate up-do.
The two of them greeted Arcturus first, as was custom, then Sirius, and finally himself. He'd had some passing interaction with them both over the years, but nothing substantial. After all, they were Vassals to House Black, not to House Potter – though technically, because Arcturus and Sirius had sworn to him, they were Vassals to him also. Not that he ever made a point of mentioning it – he was barely comfortable having Vassals of his own.
As time went on, more and more guests began to arrive – House Malfoy were invited due to the marriage of Narcissa and Lucius, and despite both of their stations being lower than his own, politically, martially, and financially, they both still found a way to somehow peer down their noses at him. Draco was a little better, openly curling his top lip as he went about introductions.
He'd had little to do with Draco Malfoy over their first year at school, though from what he'd observed of the boy, Harry found him to be dull, arrogant and rude – though he did show signs of having a keen mind when he wanted to apply himself. Daphne had told them all that Malfoy paraded around the Slytherin Common Room as if he owned the place.
House Longbottom was the first to arrive out of his friends, and Harry could see Neville physically forcing himself to contain his excitement as he trembled almost as much as Sirius did – the similarities making him grin openly. When his best friend came to stand before him, however, he was surprised at the difference in him after only a month of not seeing him.
Neville was taller and a little broader now, and his cheeks looked less chubby. He was beginning to look like the man Harry remembered from the mirror – even his clothes were beginning to resemble it. Instead of the usual doublet, Neville wore a long-sleeved brown tunic that was cinched at the waist by a wide leather belt that had an intricate carving of the bear of House Longbottom with little tufts of fur sticking up along the bottom and top of it.
"Do you like it?" Neville grinned, glancing down at his stomach. "Found it in one of the vaults under the old tower – you know, the one that leans a little?"
Harry nodded and allowed his eyes to glance at the twin sapphires that acted as the eyes for the roaring beast. "I know the one – it suits you, Longbottom."
"Aye, I think so too – Gran said I looked a fool playing dress-up, but I like it. Might take it with me back to Hogwarts."
Harry snorted, picturing Neville walking around the school with the belt as part of his uniform. "You'd strike fear into the hearts of the first years – no doubt about that."
It was at that moment that Augusta Longbottom appeared at Neville's shoulder and directed her stern gaze upon him – Neville, for what it was worth, simply grinned at the woman and shrugged his shoulders as she began to lead him away, throwing a subtle, rude gesture towards him when Harry's chuckles reached his ears.
Harry had barely been able to suppress his revulsion when he watched the ancient Lord Dondarrion enter the building, and his shoulders had immediately tensed, and his fists clenched. The man had shuffled along the line, offering a short thanks for the invitation and exchanging the expected pleasantries.
He'd felt sick to his stomach when he'd clasped hands with the liver-spotted man, whose politics and views on the world were almost as old as he was – once the man had shuffled off, he'd wiped his hand furiously against the leg of his trousers.
The Weasley's arrival had been a surprise, to be sure. Thomas had strode through the door looking a decade younger – his eyes bright and his smile wide as he eagerly shook hands with them all, lingering with Sirius and Harry particularly before he introduced his two companions. His brother and heir, Arthur Weasley, and his wife Molly Weasley neé Prewitt.
Arthur Weasley looked similar to his older brother, other than the full head of hair. He appeared jovial and seemed to always have a small smile on his face – he greeted Sirius as an old friend, which he was shocked to see Sirius respond in kind. He was dressed similar to Thomas, in that they both wore an odd combination of traditional wizard robes and Muggle suits – he was sure they would have looked quite good, if not for the odd colour combinations. Navy robes and emerald waistcoats had no business being worn together.
If Arthur was a soft-spoken man, his wife Molly was boisterous in comparison. Her voice was somewhere between motherly and shrill in her excitement, and she beamed at all three of them – him in particular when it was his turn to exchange pleasantries.
For a moment he was absolutely stunned when, instead of simply offering her hand like the other ladies had, she swept him into a tight hug before pulling back and fussing with the few strands of hair that had come loose from the knot at the back of his head.
"Oh Harry, dear – look how you've grown up!" Molly began, patting his cheeks affectionately.
He blinked and looked to Sirius, who looked positively thrilled – the bastard.
"I'm sorry, have we met before?" He managed after a moment as his brain attempted to catch up to the rest of the world.
"Oh, you wouldn't remember me, I'm sure! Why, you were such a small thing – you and Ron got on like a Pixies in a China Shop when Lily introduced you to us all."
Harry blinked again as he lightly shook his head. "You knew my mother?"
"Of course, dear! We were all in the-"
"Molly, we'd best go get our seats." Arthur said, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Harry frowned a little, feeling a bit annoyed at having been so close to a little more information on the woman that had been Lily Potter.
Molly glanced up at Arthur, a wide smile on her face as she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before turning to look at Harry. "You simply must visit The Burrow, Harry – it would do Ron some good to see a friend."
Instead of simply correcting her, as he was not friends with Ronald Weasley – they were acquaintances at best, really – he simply smiled and bowed his head a little. It was a trick Sirius had taught him a few years ago: Agree without agreeing.
The next dozen families passed without any incident – though he had been introduced to a number of daughters. Some had been older than him by a decade, while others looked to have only just learned how to walk. He understood that many houses would leap at the opportunity to tie their house to his own, but he had no interest in marrying for political reasons.
When he married, it would be like Sirius – marrying for love above all else. He knew Sirius had been thrown in at the deep end by Arcturus arranging the betrothal, but Sirius had genuinely cared for the woman before the whole thing. That he had tried to distance himself from her over the years after the disaster of his parent's death was an unfortunate result of Sirius's own stubbornness.
For they loved one another – it was clear as day to any that truly knew them. Merlin, he was old enough – and having been raised by the two remaining Marauders – to understand the glances that the two gave one another in the Atrium of the Ministry of all places in the July Wizengamot.
So, as per the first rule of being a Marauder – Never cock-block a fellow Marauder – he had found a good excuse to leave the two adults to it. The fact the adults hadn't reappeared until the evening meal, both sporting distant grins and tousled hair spoke wonders for their relationship. He truly wished them all the happiness in the world.
The arrival of House Greengrass, was, of course, the arrival of chaos. Castor was the first through the door – tall, proud and dressed impeccably in a fine, dark doublet with the Stallion of House Greengrass emblazoned across his chest. Next to him was the beautiful Thalia, looking utterly bewitching in her dark emerald dress.
Following quickly behind the pair was Daphne, with all the poise and elegance of a Lady, and his personal favourite – little Astoria. He grinned as she spotted him, and subtly attempted to brace himself as he watched Astoria grin cheekily before she sprinted at him.
She collided with his chest with all the force of a dragon, briefly knocking the wind from his lungs as she wrapped her arms around his waist. Her hair was piled atop her head with small emeralds woven through her dark tresses, and he leaned back to look down upon her.
Her cheek was squashed adorably against his chest and after a moment she leaned back and grinned cheekily up at him – not that any grin of Astoria's wasn't cheeky in the first place.
"Harry!" She squeaked, before crushing him in another hug. He chuckled and winced a little at the force she was putting on his ribs but placed a gentle kiss to the top of her head all the same.
"'Storia," He grinned. "Excited to see me?"
She rolled her eyes as she pulled back and straightened her dress – something told him that she'd had to be forced into it. "Of course – you're my favourite! Why'd you have to go to school – it's been boring without you."
"I'm sorry – we'll go on an adventure as soon as I can, alright?"
"Promise?" She asked quietly, her blue eyes wide as they blinked up at him. Damn her – she knew exactly how to get him – not that he had any intention of not spending time with his favourite Greengrass.
"I solemnly swear." He winked, hearing the quiet snort from Sirius at his side. "Now, have you been behaving?"
"Yep!" She replied quickly – a little too quickly if he were honest with himself.
"Don't let her fool you, she'd been driving us all insane." Daphne muttered, just loud enough to be heard as the rest of the family approached.
"Castor – good to see you." Arcturus smiled, shaking the man's hand firmly. The two were old friends and business associates – House Black and House Greengrass had a number of trade agreements between the two of them, and all seemed to be ticking along wonderfully.
"Arcturus – always a pleasure." Castor replied, his short beard not quite long enough to hide the lopsided smile, and for a moment, Harry realised exactly where Daphne got hers from. "I believe congratulations are in order, Sirius – I hear there's a wedding."
"There is? First I've heard of it." Sirius replied before offering his hand to the man as the two of them chuckled.
When it came to Harry, Castor's eyes briefly hardened. "Ah, Harry – the corruptor of my daughter."
"I assure you, my Lord – Daphne was more than corrupted by the time I met her." Harry grinned nervously, and the snicker he heard from Sirius almost tempted him to swing a boot in his direction.
"The other one." Castor huffed, eyeing little Astoria, who was still wrapped around Harry's arm and looked rather sheepish in that moment. Harry barely repressed a groan as he glanced down at her.
"Merlin, what did she do? If she broke something, I'll be more than happy to replace it, my Lord."
"She found herself a Familiar." Castor sighed, cocking a brow at his daughter, who giggled a little as her dress shifted around her feet. Harry frowned and looked closer – something was moving under her dress. "I see she even managed to hide it when we Apparated." He paused and looked at Arcturus, who appeared more bemused than anything. "You have my apologies, Lord Black."
"No apologies needed, Castor – we all know of Astoria's adventurous side, after all."
Daphne snorted.
"What did you bond to, Astoria?" Harry asked with a small amount of dread pooling in the bottom of his stomach.
"His name is Piper, and he's really well behaved – I trained him myself!" Astoria began, her eyes wide and darting among all of the adults.
"Well, isn't that a ringing endorsement." Daphne muttered, and Gods, he tried not to snicker – but he just couldn't help himself.
"He can fetch things, and he can sit – playing dead is his favourite! I feed him, and I'm going to teach him to do tricks too!" Astoria continued in her ramble, as if she hadn't heard her sister, as she began to fiddle with her fingers. "Piper, come out." She said after a moment, looking down at her dress.
There was a quiet rustle of fabric before a small head wormed its way under the hem of her skirt as a small black nose timidly appeared, followed by the most gorgeous molten orange eyes Harry had ever seen. It was a little baby fox. Its colouration was breath-taking. Its fur was pure black, but for the streaks of orange fur that ran down its body.
Astoria bent down to pluck the kit up from the floor, its mouth drooping open as its tongue hung lazily out the side of its mouth as it gazed up at its witch. "This is Piper – I found him on the grounds at home."
"And your father told you to leave it well enough alone." Thalia added, though her voice was full of amusement, while Castor simply rubbed at his temples. "So, naturally, you bonded with it." She added, winking down at her youngest daughter.
"Please don't send him home, Lord Black – he'll behave, I promise!" Astoria pleaded as Piper reached up with a paw to swat at a strand of hair that framed Astoria's face. Harry noticed for the first time that his tail was completely black, with a white tip.
"It's fine with me, Astoria – but you need to make sure he behaves, you hear? No biting the other guests – either of you." Arcturus chuckled, cocking a brow at the small girl, who blushed for a brief moment. Harry found himself chuckling a little, remembering Astoria when she was younger – he had no idea that toddlers went through a biting phase.
Astoria gave a small cheer before placing Piper back on his feet as she skipped further into the house, the rest of her family scrambling to catch up – though Daphne lingered a moment and levelled her gaze at him. "This is your fault, Potter." She muttered, narrowing her eyes at him.
Harry, because he considered himself of the sensible sort, simply swallowed and took a minute step backwards. The last time Daphne had pinned him with that look, he'd found himself limping for a week. With a huff, Daphne swept past him as Arcturus and Sirius simply looked on amused.
"Not a word." Harry muttered, glaring at the two men, who were admittedly making a valiant effort to stifle their amusement.
The next family to arrive were the Davis's – Tracey's family. They arrived with a small crack, and the ordinary looking family was clearly in awe as they stepped into the foyer. He knew, of course, that Tracey's family weren't related to any of the old families.
Tracey's parents were exactly as he remembered them – both dark of hair and brown-eyed with fair complexions. Her father, a Muggle-Born, was dressed in a fine-fitting suit that appeared well tailored, while her mother, a Half-Blood herself, was dressed in an elegant dark dress that left her shoulders bare and hugged her figure well. On reflex, he elbowed Sirius in the side, making sure he was paying attention.
"Remember who's getting married, Padfoot." He muttered out of the corner of his mouth, not needing to look to know the man would be rolling his eyes.
When it came to his own formal introductions, he grinned at Tracey and let her know the others, except Hermione, had already arrived and that she'd be sat with them. Tracey had let out the briefest of squeals and wrapped him in a quick hug, momentarily stunning him.
Awkwardly, he patted her back, before her parents led her further into the house. He found himself once more going through the motions of greeting the guests that arrived – mostly Lords, Ladies and their heirs, and before long, the faces began to blur into one another.
When the ball of flame appeared in the foyer, Harry couldn't help but grin at the stunned expressions on the elder Granger's faces – Hermione, who he knew had experienced the method of travel before, looked less stunned.
Clara, as he had expected, preened under the attention Hermione briefly gave her as thanks before disappearing in another ball of flame, which thankfully did nothing to damage the wooden floor.
"That was-" John began, breathless as he looked around wide-eyed.
"It was." Jean murmured, though it was still loud enough for Harry to hear.
Jean, Harry noticed, was clad in a long, flowing black dress with a square neck and was held up by two thin straps over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, though the sides were braided at the back of her head while the rest fell in elegant ringlets between her shoulder blades.
Her husband, John, had his wild, dark hair tamed – somehow – and was dressed in a nice, light grey suit with a white shirt and black tie. The slight stubble on his face gave him a rugged appearance that worked well for him, and his hazel eyes were wide as they swept the foyer before landing on the three of them. He cleared his throat and approached Arcturus first, his hand outstretched and a friendly smile on his face.
Hermione had told Harry plenty about her parents over their time at Hogwarts, and he feared what John and Sirius would get up to if left unattended for an extended period of time. Her father was a jokester, and though he could be stern and professional, he preferred to have a smile on his face and a joke on his tongue. It was what had apparently endeared him to her mother so much – Harry found it remarkably sweet, and to a degree, could relate with his own parents.
"Lord Black, we're so thankful you extended an invitation towards my family – we don't get much opportunity to share Hermione's world." John said, clasping Arcturus's hand and giving it a firm shake.
Arcturus simply bowed his head a little. "The House of Black welcomes you to our home, and we're pleased that you could make it."
When Jean approached Arcturus, Harry watched as she dipped in a little curtsey, and had to stifle a quiet chuckle at how nervous the two adult Granger's appeared to be. He couldn't blame them – they were in a foreign environment and were trying to adapt as best they could.
Not a moment later, John was standing before him with a wide grin on his face. Harry was suddenly nervous as to what he'd spoken to Sirius about – he knew mischief when he saw it – he'd been raised a Marauder, after all, even if he rarely let that side of him out to play.
"Harry – a real pleasure to see you again!" John beamed, holding his hand out. Harry took it, and for a brief moment was surprised at the grip of the man before him. After a moment, John lowered his head and whispered in Harry's ear. "I'm so thankful you became friends with my little girl, Harry – it's all we ever wanted for her."
"The honour is all mine, John – it's truly a pleasure to know her." He replied honestly. It was true – Hermione challenged him academically and pushed him to be better than he was. She was a loyal friend, and in the short time he'd known her, he had come to regard her in the same way as Neville and Daphne.
John stood back to his full height and clapped Harry on the shoulder just before Jean came to stand before him. "It's so good to finally meet you, Harry – I know we didn't get long to say hello at Kings Cross."
"Jean – a pleasure to see you again. All the Ladies here tonight will surely be jealous of you." Harry replied, channelling his inner Sirius as he bowed and kissed the back of her hand as was expected of him.
He found himself grinning as he stood once again, as he watched Jean nudge John in the side with her free elbow. "He never disappoints, John – you should take some lessons."
"Should I be worried you'd steal my wife out from under my nose, Harry?" John winked down at him.
"Oh, I would never dream of it, John – I'm not nearly brave enough." Harry replied cheekily as the adults laughed.
"Hello Harry." Hermione greeted him as she came to stand before him – he briefly registered Arcturus and Sirius bowing and saying a few quiet words before they disappeared.
Harry blinked for a moment, almost not recognising the girl before him. Her hair was braided into a crown around the back of her head, while her hair fell in waves down her back. Her shoulders were bare, except for the two thin straps of silk that held up the body of the Gryffindor Red dress – it even had small golden lions woven into it.
"Hermione – you look wonderful." He replied, smiling widely as he bent and kissed the back of her hand. "The sun in Spain obviously agrees with you." He added, noting the bronze tan.
As he looked back up at Hermione, her cheeks were a little pink as she fiddled with her fingers absently. "Thank you." She murmured quietly, her chocolate eyes taking his outfit in. "You look quite nice yourself."
"Thank you." He replied, briefly glancing down at the dark doublet he wore, and the wolf emblazoned on his chest. It reached to his mid-thigh and split up the side, allowing him ease of movement while a long leather belt cinched it at the waist, the wolf of his house dotted evenly along its length.
Harry turned and looked at his friend's parents with a smile. "As you were the last to arrive, shall I escort you to the ceremony?" He asked, offering his arm to Hermione, smiling as she took it after only a moment's hesitation.
He led them through the Manor, pointing out the occasional portrait that they passed. The doors to the rest of the house were mostly closed, more so that none got distracted and lingered in one place or another and were late for the ceremony than for privacy's sake.
They stepped out of the house through a large pair of glass doors, which split and folded in on themselves to make the doorway larger than it otherwise would be, and after a moment, they were stepping through the gardens.
They rounded a corner at the far side, and the large tent quickly came into view. It was situated on the edge of the large fields that made up the rest of the estate – fields that he regularly ran Arlan through, and if he squinted and looked off to the left, he would see the small, subtle entrance to Moony's bunker, hidden away among a small copse of birch trees.
The canvas tent hung lazily in the air. There were no sides to it – simply a large piece of white canvas with many fine curtains hanging lazily to ward off the gentle breeze as the celebrations continued into the night. Already, music played lazily as the guests mingled amongst one another in their seats.
At the front of the tent was the officiant – a priest of Tora, the Goddess of Life – who was a rotund man, with jowls that shook with each movement he made, and large white mutton-chop facial hair that stuck out at odd angles. His thin hair was swept over the top of his head in some semblance of hiding his baldness, and his stomach hid his feet from his own gaze – not even the loose robe of his order being able to hide the swell.
Harry had met him briefly upon his arrival and found the man to be pompous and full of self-importance – what that importance was, he had no idea – he was a wedding priest, nothing more, as far as Harry knew. He stood there, with a serene, distant expression on his face as he clutched a copy of The Testaments Of The Divine in his large hands.
Sirius stood a step lower, and was conversing quietly with Remus, who was dressed in a fine doublet with the sigil of House Black on his chest – Arcturus was no doubt somewhere in the crowd, hosting the guests as best he could until it was time to begin.
"There's so many people." He heard Jean murmur just behind him. He turned and smiled at Hermione's parents.
"House Black is one of the most powerful Houses in our society – the wedding of its heir is an important event." Harry said before stopping at a table toward the front of the assembly – the closer one sat to the exchanging of vows, the higher one was regarded and the more luck it was thought to bring.
Already sat at the table were the families of Longbottom, Davis and Greengrass. Harry, unfortunately, wouldn't be sitting with them until after the feast, as he was expected to sit at the High Table, along with the other members of House Black and House Bones – though he'd be sure to make his way over as soon as he could.
He pulled out Hermione's chair for her and gently pushed it forward as John did the same for Jean. As he looked up, he spotted Astoria whispering to Piper, who was sitting calmly by the base of her chair, while Daphne whispered to Tracey. Neville was excitedly talking to Castor and Thalia, both of the elder Greengrass's grinning as they listened to him. It took the rest of the table very little time to notice the arrival of the Grangers, and within seconds, all were exchanging pleasantries, and as Harry turned to head toward Sirius and Remus, he just caught the start of Tracey gushing over Hermione's dress.
"Still nervous?" He asked as he stepped up beside Remus as he grinned at Sirius.
"I've no idea what you're talking about." Sirius grunted, absently pulling on his doublet to straighten out the non-existent creases. Harry shared a look with Remus as they both chuckled.
They stood chatting idly for a time, waiting for the sun to fall beyond the horizon, as was tradition – the new couple would greet the following dawn as one. As the last of the light in the room Harry flicked his wrist and felt the wand leap into his hand from beneath his sleeve.
He'd practiced the spell a number of times, but never with so many people watching him. It had been his honour to have Sirius ask him to be the one to light the torches and begin the ceremony. Harry had also revelled in the feeling of Sirius teaching him a spell – even if it didn't have that many practical applications.
He stepped forward and levelled his wand at the first torch and concentrated – as the first sprang to life, he took another step forward and began to spin slowly, a beautiful orange flame bursting into existence as he completed his full turn.
As the last torch lit, the sounds at the tables suddenly silenced, and all looked upon him as he stowed his wand away and got into position between Sirius and Remus, his hands clasped comfortably before him.
The music changed into a soft, melodic melody, and for a moment, Harry thought he could hear words through the instruments. He felt lighter, more at peace – he closed his eyes and breathed out softly as a small smile spread across his lips.
The soft gasp of Sirius next to him had him opening his eyes as he gazed upon the far side of the tent. There, standing with her arm entwined with Arcturus, was Amelia Bones. Her blonde hair was in an elaborate up-do, with ringlets framing her face.
Her dress was as white as bone and had truly little detailing on it – something he knew was Amelia's choice. In the time he had gotten to know her, he had found her to be a rather straightforward woman, and to that end, he couldn't imagine her in any other dress. It was sleeveless, and had a low neckline, but a section of embroidered lace kept it modest and conservative. He imagined the low neckline was for Sirius's benefit more than anyone.
Ahead of them, in a lovely dress of shimmering silver, was Susan. All along the pathway, Susan scattered petals of peonies evenly – her smile was wide, and she almost seemed giddy with excitement.
Eventually, Arcturus and Amelia came to a stop just before the steps they were standing on with the priest. Susan had taken up position opposite him, acting as a witness on behalf of her Aunt. He smiled slightly at her and offered her a small nod.
"Who comes before the Gods on this night?" The priest began, his voice loud enough to be heard all the way to Derbyshire in the silence.
"Amelia Bones, of House Bones." Amelia answered, drawing her shoulders back a little, and Harry grinned a little.
"And who brings her into the view of the Gods?"
"I, Arcturus, of House Black, in the place of Nathaniel Bones – her brother, who's life was ended far too soon."
At this, Sirius stepped forward and offered Amelia his hand as he led her up the stairs to stand before one another. They both stood with their hands gently holding onto one another as the priest began tying silk ribbons around their wrists.
"In the name of Koris, Goddess of Luck, I bless thee with good fortune in your years together." The priest began, and Harry could see the slight tears welling up in Amelia's eyes as she pursed her lips and tried to remain composed. "In the name of Enera, Goddess of the Spirit, I bind you both to one another. Your hardships will be each other's – your boons, one another's joys."
"In the name of Tora, Goddess of life, I bless you with many years together – may they bring you both the joy you seek. In the name of Beddoss, God of Nature, I bless you both with fertility so your children may bring you joy."
Sirius must have wiggled his eyebrows, or something, because at that moment Amelia giggled – something he'd never have expected to hear from the woman.
"In the name of Tidall, God of Chaos, I curse those who would wish to break this union of souls. In the name of Temra, Goddess of Balance, I declare you both as two parts of one whole – forever joined and destined to find one another."
Harry smiled and felt his own eyes growing moist. Beside him, he heard Remus quietly clear his throat.
"And finally, in the name of Emis, God of death, may you both find one another in the next life."
As he finished, the priest drew a number of runes in the air with his wand, their fiery shapes lingering in the air. "If you would say the words, my Lord, my Lady."
As one, both Amelia and Sirius began to say the words, "You. Me. We. Us. Friend. Guide. Lover. I am yours and you are mine – from this day, until the end of our days."
As their vows came to a close, the two of them gently leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to their lips as cheers and applause echoed throughout the tent, wolf-whistles followed soon after when Amelia threw her arms around Sirius's neck and deepened their kiss.
Both broke apart and were clearly grinning at one another as they walked down the short steps as the music began to play once more. Harry slowly followed the pair, his hands now clasped behind his back and a grin on his face as he listened to Sirius and Remus joking back and forth as they walked to the left of the tent where the head table and dancing area was located.
On his way, he passed the table with all his friends on it and grinned at the number of wet eyes. Besides Neville and Astoria, there wasn't a single dry pair among them – he was tempted to say something to Daphne as he passed, but the look she gave him made him think otherwise. Best not to have a funeral on the day of a wedding – bad luck and all that.
Harry grinned as he saw Andromeda and Ted already placed at the table, with Nymphadora sat beside them – for once, actually resembling her parents. All of House Black were to be seated at the table – with the exception of Narcissa, who was seated with her husband Lucius and their son Draco towards the back.
Andromeda looked stunning, with her thick brunette hair tied back loosely with the majority falling down her back while the rest flowed down her front. Her dress was a deep ebony colour of crushed velvet that hugged her figure with a sweetheart neckline and had a number of white buttons running up the front of it.
Ted, to her left, was dressed in a fine Muggle suit that was equally as dark – only, he also wore a black shirt and a silver tie. Even from where Harry was, he could see the suit fit him well and complemented his athletic physique. As usual, he was clean-shaven and had a toothy smile on his face as he watched their party arrive. His brown hair was cropped short, with just enough on top to style fashionably in a small quiff.
Nymphadora sat on the right hand-side of Andromeda, in a lovely slate, sleeveless dress that was held up by two intricate, wide straps that reached up from her back and over her shoulders to the top of her dress at the front. He knew the split up the side of her dress had been a point of contention with her mother.
She had graduated the summer just before he had started, and so he'd missed an opportunity to hound his favourite cousin at school – he still owed her for turning all of his clothes polka dot for a week just before he'd left for Hogwarts.
He followed Sirius and Amelia behind the table, grinning at Nymphadora as he passed – he even went so far to mouth her full name, fighting the urge to cackle as she glared at him with narrowed eyes.
"Friends, family – honoured guests!" Sirius called out as he raised his goblet to those assembled before them at their tables. "We thank you for sharing our moment of joy – House Black and House Bones appreciate your kind words, and so to this, we toast to you all!"
Harry raised his goblet as Sirius took a sip from his own, before passing it on to Amelia, as was the custom – the first thing shared as man and wife. For the rest of the night, they would share everything either consumed, and so they would continue to do so for the rest of the week.
In a rare display of wealth, Arcturus had hired a number of human servants through a high-end catering business from Pipet Square, just off of Diagon Alley, to bring out the plates of food – all were exceptionally well paid and would no doubt be leaving with a generous bonus from the House of Black.
Harry took his seat and quickly tucked himself in as the food began to make its way onto the tables, courtesy of the men and women working the night away. The first dish that arrived before him was a simple dish of salmon steak and potatoes with a delightful, creamy dill sauce. Harry simply had a single bite of it before directing it be sent to the table with his friends.
It was an old custom that had survived the centuries. During a celebration of feast, the host, or their family, would take a single mouthful of the food before passing it on to another table – depending on what you sent them, you could show either your favour, or disfavour throughout the meal. More than one wizard and witch throughout history had used it as an opportunity to snub a rival.
Harry knew that, sitting at the High Table with the bride and groom, recognised as a member of the Black family as well as the future Lord Potter, he couldn't afford to show disfavour to anyone – and he certainly wouldn't wish to spoil Sirius and Amelia's night. He smiled as he saw the other plates from the head table make their way out into the crowd, each one earning a nod of thanks, or a raised goblet.
It seemed, as he glanced at the table full of his friends, that each of the members of the table were sharing the dish between themselves, adding a small helping to their already existing dishes piled high with food.
Neville had a plate stacked so high with food, he genuinely wondered if he'd need to be rolled off of the grounds. Daphne had little on her plate, content to nibble small forkfuls and remain dignified – no doubt conscious of the upcoming dancing. Tracey was somewhere in the middle. Her plate was no larger than Daphne's, but she was at least eating the way he'd come to expect from their time at Hogwarts. Hermione had yet to touch her food – her wide eyes darting around and trying to take in all they could.
The next dish arrived before him – a stack of kebabs of skewered chicken and sweet-smelling peppers, whose juices ran down the length of the stick tantalisingly. They'd become a guilty pleasure at Hogwarts when they were served, and so he didn't hesitate in carefully lifting one onto his plate before directing it be sent to House Lovegood, one of his own Bannermen from Wales.
The feast continued happily enough, with the occasional toast and cheers, and it wasn't long until everyone began to become merry on the food and drink. To his left, Sirius and Amelia continued to lean into one another, whispering sweet nothings and sharing their food and drink. Before long, people were up and meandering about, catching up with friends and allies – what better place for politicking, than at a wedding?
The music, which had been playing quietly in the background of the feast, began the introduction to a new song, though this was slightly louder. Sirius stood suddenly and offered a hand to his new wife, and Harry couldn't help but grin. The two quickly moved around the table to stand in the centre of the area that had been sectioned off as the dance floor as cheers and claps rang out.
Quietly, with his eyes trained on Sirius and Amelia, Harry watched with a small smile as the two began the slow steps of their first dance. Amelia had her arms draped around Sirius's neck, while his own hands were placed on her waist as they held one another close and swayed to the music. There would be much more formal dances afterwards, as the first dance was reserved solely for the bride and groom.
Harry, along with the majority of the occupants of the tent, clapped excitedly as the song wound down. He stood, along with many of the others dotted throughout the tables, and lightly tugged on his doublet to straighten out the creases – he'd eaten lightly, and the small amount of wine he'd drank, as was tradition at a wedding, had relaxed him considerably.
He made his way around the table before coming to a stop before his friends – already Neville was asking Tracey if she'd like to dance, while an older boy – perhaps having just finished Hogwarts, or one of the many other schools in Britain, asked Daphne to dance. Harry came to a stop behind Hermione, who was still sitting, looking sadly at her friends being asked for a dance – evidently, she hadn't seen him approach.
"Hermione," He began, trying not to smirk as he watched her visibly jump in her seat. "Would you do me the honour of this dance?" He asked, bowing a little and offering his hand, palm up to her.
"Go on, dear." He heard Jean whisper to her daughter with a little giggle. Not a moment later, he felt Hermione's soft hand in his own and he stood back to his full height – for the first time, he realised he was half a head taller than her.
He offered the crook of his elbow to her and led her to the dancefloor where various couples were already beginning to get into position. He saw Andromeda and Ted, Sirius and Amelia, Neville and Tracey, Daphne and the older boy – a member of House Clubwood, Remus and –
Nymphadora?
Harry came to a stop in a small, open area among the bodies of the awaiting dancers as he turned to face Hermione. Her cheeks were tinged pink and she was worrying at her bottom lip nervously.
"Have you danced before?" Harry asked with a smile, watching as her eyes briefly darted up to his own before briefly flickering somewhere over his shoulder.
"No – not much cause for formal dancing in the Muggle world, I suppose." She replied quietly, glancing around as the partners stepped up to one another.
"Don't worry about it – just follow me, okay? Now, take my hand, and put your other one on my shoulder." Harry said gently, raising his right hand to shoulder height and just off to the side a little – just like Andromeda taught him. He placed his left hand on Hermione's waist and chuckled a little as she flinched and gasped. "Relax – it's just the two of us."
"But-" She began hesitantly, her eyes darting around at the throng of people either watching or preparing to dance.
"Ignore them – just focus on me."
The music began softly, the slow, melodic tones of the Cellos and Violins opening the song. Harry stepped backward, gently leading Hermione. He smiled at her and made a point of keeping hold of her gaze – the less she focused on her own feet, the more she would relax and all him to guide her.
After a minute, he felt her posture relax a little and so they began to move a little quicker – Hermione laughing merrily as they spun about the dancefloor in time with the music. As a child, he had hated having to learn to dance with Andromeda – he had wanted to spend his time with Neville, or reading in the library, or even flying a broom. Now though, he was glad he was able to spend the time with his bushy-haired friend, who's hair, he noted, wasn't all that bushy anymore.
It was thick, and still wild – but it was beginning to tame itself a little into wavy ringlets, though he still noted that it reached the middle of her back. For a brief moment, he tried to imagine himself with hair much like Sirius's – black, but curly. He barely suppressed the shudder that ran through his body. Hermione looked lovely with it and doubted very much that he would manage the look.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked with a grin as they spun once more.
"Just thinking." He replied with a chuckle.
"What about?"
"What I would look like with curly hair."
Hermione's face scrunched up a little – no doubt picturing the image in her head. She shook her head as Harry grinned. "Never change your hair Harry – I can't imagine you'd look half as pretty."
Harry snorted at the familiar teasing. "You've been spending too much time with Daphne."
"We're of a like-mind." Hermione replied with a sniff, though he did notice the subtle twitching at the corners of her mouth.
"I'm sure. And what, pray tell, would you be of a like-mind about?"
"It's worth putting up with you, and your pretty hair, to spend time with Clara." Hermione grinned at him cheekily.
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. "I knew it – you're all just using me to spend time with the goose."
Hermione gently swatted at his shoulder. "You be nice to her – she's a majestic creature that's been saddled with a troublesome wizard."
"Troublesome? Coming from the witch that set a professor on fire?" Harry asked, arching an eyebrow as a smirk spread across his lips. "Hermione Granger, allow me to introduce you to the pot and kettle."
She stuck her tongue out at him for a moment, in a rare display of childishness – who was this, and what had they done to Hermione? He laughed merrily as she gently tugged at a loose strand of his hair. "I did that to save you from falling."
"And I thank you for it every day, my Lady." Harry grinned, inclining his head ever so slightly. For the first time, the pair of them came to a slow halt at the side of the dance floor, and Harry noticed just how few people were left dancing – had they danced multiple songs away?
He cleared his throat as he blinked, bringing both himself and Hermione back to the world around them, it seemed. He grinned as he offered her the crook of his arm as he led her back to the table. Hermione, it seemed, was worn out if the heavy breathing were any indication and the red flush on her cheeks.
"Thank you for a wonderful time, Hermione – perhaps we can dance again later?" He asked as they arrived at the table. Neville and Tracey were already sitting there, though the adults – the Greengrass's and the Granger's, were on the dance floor.
"I'd like that, Harry." Hermione replied, her lips pursed a little, though the rosy tint was still on her cheeks. He grasped her hand light, bowed a little at the waist and brushed his lips against her knuckles.
"I look forward to it then." Harry grinned as he stood back up. "Now, I believe someone has been waiting for me to ask them since they got here." He chuckled, looking at Astoria who was bouncing in her seat excitedly.
He held out a hand to her, and before he could blink, she was out of her chair and dragging him to the dance floor once again. Harry laughed merrily as her Piper chased after them, though he remained at the edge and seemed content to watch.
The two began spinning and laughing. Harry asked how she had been since he had left for Hogwarts, though he knew most of it already – Astoria always made sure to include a letter for Harry in any letters she exchanged with Daphne. He kept them all in a small wooden box inside his trunk.
She told him of all the adventures she had gotten up to over the summer – of how she'd found Piper alone and hungry on the edge of the estate, hidden under a bush. Apparently, she'd been chasing down no less than three Griffin's, each the size of Blackwall before she'd found him.
"Huge, they were!" She grinned up at him.
"I'm glad you were there to prevent them coming after me – how ever will I thank you, hm?" Harry smiled as he spun them once more.
"It was the least I could do after you sent me the Hippogriffs! I feed and water all of them – Stavros is the greediest, but Artemis is the boss of him. She makes sure to keep him in line."
"Are you going to try and sneak them all into Hogwarts when you come next year?" He chuckled, imagining her dorm room covered in the many, many plush toys he'd gifted her over the years.
"Do you think I could?" She gasped, her eyes widening in excitement. "Oh, I might even be able to get Daphne to sneak some in too!"
"Merlin, what have I done?"
"The Gods' work, that's what." Astoria nodded resolutely, as that familiar glint appeared in her eye. Harry tried not to cringe – nothing good ever came from that glint.
The song ended, and Harry had to lead a protesting Astoria from the dance floor, her loyal familiar yipping at their feet – though, once they arrived back at the table, it wasn't to Astoria that the kit ran to. Instead, it hopped into Hermione's lap and rolled onto its back, its paws swiping at the loose strands of hair as she leaned over, fussing it, and scratching its belly.
"Is that… a bowtie?" Harry asked after a moment, noticing the accessory for the first time. He glanced at Astoria who had quickly made her way to Hermione's side as they both cooed over the creature.
"Of course – it's a wedding. I wasn't going to let him come looking like a barbarian." Astoria scoffed as she looked at him for a moment.
"Oh, he's simply precious." Hermione cooed, giggling as the fox tilted its head just enough to have its tongue hang out the side of its mouth.
"Potter – you owe me a dance." Daphne commanded as she stood, gripping his arm, and pulling him away from the table in one smooth motion. He stumbled back a few steps before he managed to twist and right himself.
"Easy now Daphne – there're witnesses about." Harry muttered, his eyes sweeping the many guests around them.
Daphne scoffed as she placed her hand on his left shoulder and gripped his right. "If I have to suffer another heir or second son who thinks they can sweet talk me, I'm going to go on a rampage."
"So, now I'm being used as a shield? Hardly seems fair."
"You catch on quickly, Harry." She replied slowly, patting his cheek gently as he frowned. "All that Gryffindor intellect is out in full-force tonight."
"Don't forget whose grades are higher. Morgana come again you may wish to be, but you'll have to beat that Gryffindor intellect first." He snickered, watching as she rolled her blue eyes. "Any in particular you're using me to shield yourself from?"
She was quiet for a moment as her eyes glanced over his shoulder. "Malfoy's attempted to charm me twice this evening already."
"Malfoy? I thought he mostly kept to himself and his shadows?"
Daphne shrugged her shoulders slightly as she pursed her lips. "Something has obviously changed – he waltzed around the Slytherin Common Room as if he owned it at the end of the year. Made a comment or two towards Tracey on the last day."
"He what?" Harry growled. He was about to turn around when Daphne gripped his shoulder forcefully.
"Tracey is a big girl, and everyone in Slytherin knows she's under my protection – and by extension, yours." Daphne replied with a pointed look. "We can handle ourselves."
"You shouldn't have to." He muttered, briefly scowling at the blonde heir to House Malfoy.
"Aye, we shouldn't – but this is the life we have. We'll deal with it in our own way – the Slytherin way."
"You can be scary sometimes, you know."
"Good to know I haven't lost my touch." She smirked, her eyes sparkling with humour. A light tap on his shoulder caused them both to stop moving.
"Lord Potter, may I steal a dance with the lovely Heir Greengrass?" Neville grinned cheekily, bowing low with a flourish.
"Merlin preserve me." He heard Daphne groan, though there was no bite to it. He chuckled and stepped back and gave a wink to his two friends before he left them to enjoy their dance.
He was halfway to the table when Andromeda appeared before him, gently steering him back to the dance floor. "If you think you're not having a dance with your favourite aunt, you're a sorely mistaken young man."
"You're my only aunt." Harry scoffed.
"And by definition, your favourite." She replied evenly. They danced easily with one another, Harry earning a pair of wiggled eyebrows from Remus as they passed – the old Marauder dancing with Lady Fern, a Vassal house of House Black.
As they moved, Harry noted the eyes that were trailing after him and his aunt. For as long as he could remember, the looks had followed her – though, apparently, it bothered him more than it bothered her. He could understand it, objectively. Andromeda was one third of the infamous Black Trio – Bellatrix and Narcissa being the others.
All three were said to have been beauties at school. Bellatrix had been the oldest and had died in Azkaban when he was but a child, and Narcissa, the youngest, seemed older than her years – though still a beauty. Andromeda, the middle-child, by comparison was other-worldly. Her heart-shaped face retained its youthfulness, and her figure drew many a wizard – and witches – eye.
"How's Narcissa?" Harry asked. He'd had few interactions with the woman over the years, but each one had left a sour taste in his mouth. There was a reason that Harry only considered Andromeda family out of the two of them.
"Same old, same old, I'm afraid." Andromeda sighed as she stepped in time with the music. "Still bitter over Lucius, I think."
It had been a shocking bit of news at the time, according to Arcturus – positively scandalous. It was well known that House Malfoy was Noble, and not Ancient and Most Noble – for a daughter of House Black, even one not from the main line, to be betrothed and married into a lesser house had been a shock, to be sure. Cygnus had leapt to the side of the Dark Lord during the war and bartered Narcissa off to Lucius in a bid to strengthen his own position.
When Andromeda had run off with Ted, a Muggle-born wizard she had met in her final two years of Hogwarts, the media couldn't have cared less. Cygnus, however, had been apoplectic, and had cast Andromeda from the family – despite the fact that he lacked the ability to do so, both magically and legally, as both Arcturus and Sirius lived.
Andromeda had always been kind to him, and in a lot of ways, she had been something like a mother figure when he had been small – though she hadn't quite managed to fill that void, nor would she ever try. Sirius had often teased him, with how Andromeda doted on him – Ted had always claimed he was like a second child to them, a younger brother for Nymphadora.
He loved his cousin immensely – she was clumsy, more than a little brash, loyal, and dedicated. He had been terribly sorry to see her graduate the summer before his first year, but now, she was well on her way to becoming an Auror – Amelia had even taken her under her wing.
He caught sight of the Metamorphmagus out of the corner of his eye, dancing with some Lord or another. It seemed Andromeda had also seen as she made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat as they spun.
"She'll be fine." Harry murmured, squeezing his aunt's hand a little.
"I know – but she's still my little girl, even if she doesn't look like it most of the time."
Harry scoffed, remembering the last time he'd seen Dora – her hair had been bright pink, and she'd resembled neither of her parents all that much. He knew she had a hard time – everyone always wanted her to look like someone else, or to change a part of her physically. As a result, she often shifted her body to reflect her mood, or what she fancied looking like on any given day.
Personally, Harry preferred her actual appearance – the one that was almost a spitting image of his aunt, though he wouldn't deny seeing Dora with a pig snout wasn't hilarious.
"Even you," Andromeda added after a moment, lightly pinching his cheek. "You're growing up far too quickly – you need to stay my little boy for a while longer."
"You're just upset I can't sit on Ted's shoulders anymore." Harry scoffed. "I lost count of how many photos you took of us doing that."
"Not nearly enough." Andromeda huffed as she tugged at a strand of his hair. "I do miss your short hair – sticking up in every direction. It was adorable."
"And that is why I don't have short hair anymore. I'm to be a Lord of a House – can't be looking adorable. My Bannermen will laugh me out of my castle." Harry snickered as Andromeda chuckled.
"Harry Potter – the Adorable Lord of Rosestone Castle." His aunt teased with a wink.
He grimaced after a moment. "That's going to stick for a while, isn't it?"
"Possibly." She replied with a shrug.
"You've been giving Daphne lessons, haven't you? There's no way that's all her."
Andromeda laughed quietly as they passed the Abbott's. "Dear boy, that girl needs no lessons from the likes of me – she's a force all unto herself." She paused before leaning forward a little. "I hear she graced you with a hug this year."
He groaned, rolling his eyes. "Don't you even start – I see how you get with Dora."
She had the audacity to pout – no wonder she and Sirius got on so well. "Would you deny your favourite aunt the opportunity to play matchmaker for her only nephew?"
"Yes." He replied immediately, smiling lopsidedly.
"You've spent far too much time with Sirius."
"I think we can both agree on that." Harry chuckled as she lightly swatted his shoulder. Slowly, the song died down, and Harry bowed and offered her his arm, only for another wizard – one much older than himself, to ask Andromeda for a dance.
Andromeda agreed, and found herself swept further onto the dance floor before she could blink, while Harry simply remained where he was, chuckling. He watched for a moment or two as the dance began, before heading to the table with his friends – all of them talking animatedly with one another, though Astoria seemed to have curled up and drifted off to sleep against her mother's side, Piper cuddled to her chest.
He sat down next to Hermione and quickly poured himself a small goblet of sweet mead from one of the jugs in the middle of the table. At Hermione's questioning look, he shrugged.
"It's mine anyway – straight from the cellars of Rosestone." He grinned. "And we're celebrating! Not every day Sirius will get married – despite his deepest wishes, perhaps." He added, chancing a look over his shoulder at the high table, where Sirius and Amelia were sat whispering things to one another.
"But you're so young!" Jean protested.
"Oh, it's watered down for the children – you could drink it by the jug and likely not get drunk before the sun comes up."
"By the jug, you say?" John asked, reaching a hand towards the closest. Jean slapped his hand and gave him a very Hermione-like look as he retracted it with a huff. He noticed Hermione looking a little proud of her mother and chuckled to himself.
"Tell you what, I'll make sure a cask is delivered to you over the next few days, John." Harry grinned, raising his goblet a little.
"A cask?" John blinked; his eyes wide.
"Aye – there are hundreds beneath Rosestone. Wine's, ales, mead's, cider's, and beers. I've been giving them to various places on my lands over the years – the wine, mostly. Can't begin to imagine how my ancestors could stand the stuff."
"Wines?" Jean asked slowly, and the huff from Hermione almost set him into a fit of giggles.
"Aye – there are some casks a few hundred years old. I can send one of those to you as well, if you'd like?" Harry offered, sipping at his drink a little. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Astoria kick her leg slightly in her sleep.
"Trying to buy our affection with alcohol? I'm almost proud." John grinned, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders and placing a loving kiss upon her temple.
"So, what did you think of your first wizarding wedding?" Harry asked, looking between the three Granger's. They paused for a moment as a young boy, only a year or so younger than himself asked Tracey for a dance, and they watched them leave.
"It was absolutely fascinating – I had no idea wizards and witches had their own religion!" Hermione gushed. "And their vows – they were lovely!"
He chuckled, placing his goblet on the table before him. "Aye – we've our own pantheon of Gods, though their origin has been lost over time."
"Do you follow them? I don't think I've ever heard you mention their names."
"No – though there are those that do. I know the stories and such, they make up a lot of our children's stories, you see. But no, I'm not a follower." Harry replied, watching as the three digested the information.
"I take it that it's not that prevalent anymore then?" Jean asked, leaning into her husband – he didn't blame their tiredness. The hour was late, and the sun would be rising shortly, no doubt.
"It's more widespread than you would think, I suppose – we just don't make a big deal about it the way your cultures do. Meaning no disrespect, of course!" Harry added, his eyes wide – though the chuckling of John and Jean alleviated a lot of his worries.
"None taken, Harry." John grinned. "So, do many – what do they call Hermione's kind again?"
"Muggle-born."
"Right – do many Muggle-born convert to this religion then?"
"No, honestly. Muggle-born make up a fairly small amount of our population as a whole – many don't make much effort, beyond the superficial, to integrate with us. Most live in the Muggle world, but work in the magical." Harry sighed with a sad shrug. "It's a shame, but I can understand it."
"What do you mean?" Jean asked, tilting her head a little. He noticed Hermione sitting a little closer to him – no doubt she was also just as curious.
"Muggle-born are raised in your world for the first decade of their lives, and so have that foundation. Then, at age eleven, they're introduced to a foreign culture they're told they're now a part of. I imagine it's quite scary for most." He replied with a sad smile. "It's no surprise they'd like to surround themselves with something they know."
"That makes sense." Hermione murmured with a slow nod. "So that means someone like me – it's rare for us to be at an event like this?"
Harry nodded, "Especially for an Ancient and Most Noble House."
"That's… sad." Hermione replied, quietly as she looked around. "It's so beautiful."
"It is." He replied, sweeping his gaze around the tent. "I'm glad you could all make it, though – I hope Clara wasn't too put out?"
"Oh, she was a dear! Hermione mentioned you had a Phoenix, but to actually see one." John grinned, his eyes briefly losing their focus as he remembered the bird.
Harry chuckled and picked up his goblet for another mouthful of the drink. There was a quiet chime that echoed around the tent – the signal for the last dances before the sunrise.
He stood and held his hand out to Hermione. "I believe we have another dance?"
"I believe we do, Lord Potter." Hermione grinned at him – though there was definitely an excitement in her that hadn't been there before. He rolled his eyes at his title, though.
They meandered their way through the tables, though this time it seemed Hermione insisted on holding his hand rather than his arm. He would admit it was easier to navigate the tables.
They took up their positions once again, and soon they were off, laughing and joking with one another as they stepped and spun among the other couples. Though, as this was a more formal dance, there was a brief shriek from Hermione when it was time for him to briefly lift her from the floor.
He laughed as she swatted at his shoulder as she glared at him, but there was no heat to it. "You could have warned me!"
"I did – I distinctly remember saying, 'I'm going to lift you now'." He replied cheekily, ignoring her flick between his eyes. "It's your own fault for saying, 'What?'"
"It is not!"
"Is too."
"Is not."
"Are we really doing this?" Harry chuckled, spinning the two of them clockwise as they passed both Amelia and Sirius, who were lost in their own little world.
"It is a perfectly reasonable way for an argument to be won." Hermione sniffed, tilting her chin in the air a little.
Harry scoffed and decided not to answer – he'd had too many arguments with Sirius that had devolved into that familiar back and forth.
The music died down and they came to a stop, watching as the crowd parted for the newly wed couple as they made their way to the outside of the tent, just as the first rays of the sunrise crested the horizon.
The entire party, merry off of food, drink and celebration clapped uproariously as the new couple welcomed the first day of their union.
Somewhere amongst the noise, he felt Hermione lean into his ear as she said, "I'm really glad you invited me, Harry – it's been wonderful."
He glanced at her, his grin wide as he replied, "Me too, Hermione. Me too!"
