July thirty-first dawned a warm and pleasant day – the sun was shining in the summer heat, small insects flitted through the air, darting from flower to flower, and there was a comfortable breeze to keep it all from becoming stifling.

He watched as the branches of the nearby trees gently swayed, and if he strained his neck just enough, he could see the Whomping Willow enjoying itself on the far side of the gardens. It looked to be a gorgeous day, and it wasn't even lunch – and he was watching it all from the window in Arcturus's – Sirius's – study, separated from the outside world by a thin pane of glass.

The month had been fun – with the Basilisk sold, he'd only had to briefly travel back to Hogwarts to let the teams down into the Chamber twice; the Goblins were quick and efficient, so much so, that he'd already taken possession of the materials he'd demanded – the skull, jaw, fangs, and teeth were already with the Dwarves, having intricate runes carved into them, and reinforced, to make it ready for mounting.

The rest of the month had passed in a blur – he had spent time with his family, enjoying the simple pleasure of their company, and found himself decompressing. The lingering stress of the last school year washed from his shoulders, and he found himself happier than he had been all school year.

He'd exchanged letters with his friends – Neville had told him all about his new plants, and some little discoveries he'd made exploring his home; including some everlasting candles – a rare and ancient find.

Tracey had re-visited the dragon at the zoo, and even gone on a short holiday to Versailles, in France, to visit École Royale De Sorcellerie; a school that rivalled Beauxbatons in reputation – the blessing of Unicorn on its grounds had been beautiful to see.

Daphne had written to him, detailing her many exasperations of her younger sister. The two Greengrass sisters had spent the month with their family, much like he had, enjoying the company of various cousins and other relations; apparently, Daphne didn't know what was worse: Astoria, or the twin terrors of Ciara and Jasmine Greengrass, their third cousins.

Astoria, had, of course, gotten on with her cousins like a house on fire – she had sent him a letter detailing the many adventures they had gone on, including the whole nest of dragons that they had slain, all with a trusty Hippogriff steed taken from the toy-herd he'd given her in the Christmas of his first year.

Tucked away, hidden under lock-and-key in the top drawer of his bedside table, was Hermione's letter which he kept in another locked, wooden box. The box, an object that he'd found upon his first visit to Rosestone, had belonged to his grandmother – Dorea. It was made of sycamore, the gran of the wood ripped away from the bottom, up and over the front in a way that looked like sea-spray splashing over rocks. At either end of the sycamore panel, invisibly joined, were stained and varnished dark oak panels that contrasted beautifully with the bone-like colour of the sycamore.

He'd taken to keeping little things in it over the years, small trinkets and mementos he'd collected here and there, either from Arpton, or anywhere else. Recently, he'd started stashing the letters from Hermione in it, away from prying eyes – her most recent missive taking a place of pride at the very top.

She'd been up to all sorts in the last month; visiting relatives – her grandmother sounded fun – visiting the coast, and even venturing up to Nottingham itself to spend a day at Sherwood Forest and visiting the Old Oak. It also wasn't a surprise that she'd also finished her homework for the summer already, either.

She had written of other things, of course – talking about their favourite colours; hers was magenta, which had come as a surprise, though he wasn't sure why. He'd told her that his was periwinkle, for the flowers that grew in the gardens of Rosestone – there was something about them that relaxed him.

There were other things they'd discussed about – what they wanted to do when they grew up. He had, of course, mentioned that his duties as the future Lord of House Potter would be a full-time job, though, if he'd been able to choose anything, he would've liked to own his own little shop. Something quiet and out of the way, where the hustle and bustle of the day could be forgotten. She hadn't surprised him at all when she'd mentioned working at the Ministry in some capacity, as long as she could make a difference.

He'd pictured it a few times since – Minister Hermione Granger. The title made him smile; already he could imagine all of the differences she would make. The Wizengamot wouldn't stand a chance before her determination and fierceness – he couldn't wait to see Lord Dondarrion's reaction to her appointment.

In their correspondence, he'd asked her questions as well, of course – what had her life been like before Hogwarts? What was her favourite music? Did she have a favourite place to visit – any hobbies outside of what he knew from their time at Hogwarts. He'd devoured the answers she had given him, and he'd read her letters no less than once a day.

He breathed out through his nose quietly and flexed his fingers at the small of his back. While it might have been his thirteenth birthday, it felt much like any other day. He'd woken up at his usual time, gotten dressed, eaten with Sirius, Amelia, Susan, and Remus, and spent some time with both Clara and Hedwig before preparing for the upcoming meeting.

Clara had even gone so far as to wake him up; something she blessedly hadn't done since the end of term. She had hopped on his bed and pecked at his shoulder until, in an attempt to retreat from the bothersome bird, he'd completely rolled out of the bed and ended up in a heap on the floor, tangled in his sheets.

Hedwig, by comparison, had been positively Saint-like. She remained in his room for most of the day, occasionally leaving her perch to hunt, or to deliver whatever mail he needed seeing to. Some nights, like Clara, she would burrow her way into the crook of his neck, and her quiet breathing would lull him to sleep.

That had been something that had improved astronomically with his return to Blackwall. While he still had the occasional nightmare, he no longer woke in a cold sweat – the sounds of the Manor at night didn't drive him to dive for his wand, nor did the sound of the wind on the windows. His conversations continued each evening with Sirius and Remus, of course, but he found the distance between himself and Hogwarts… soothing.

In those late-night conversations, the three of them had broached a number of topics from anything as simple and mundane as his favourite foods at Hogwarts, to the uncomfortable topics of the children that had snubbed him over his two years.

Personally, he was of the opinion to forgive and forget – he'd much rather just get on with his life, but he knew appearances and standards had to be maintained. He was the sole heir to the most powerful family in Britain; if the future Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot thought they could bully him without impunity, how much longer would it be until his House fell into ruin?

So, reluctantly, he'd given up the names of those he thought had wronged him the most – and not just himself; he'd given the names of those that had cornered his friends as well. There were many students attending Hogwarts that were related to the older families in one way or another, though only a handful were from the direct lines.

Mostly, the heirs had left him and his friends alone, content to turn a blind eye, though there were a few exceptions. It still elicited a small, satisfied smile remembering how Cormac McLaggen's nose had shattered beneath his fist, and how his bastard brother, Richard, had turned as pale as a ghost – they were a family that Harry wouldn't mind ruining.

But, as Arcturus – and now Sirius – often said, he had to learn to pick his fights. House McLaggen may have been an upstanding family once, a long time ago. Now, they were barely able to afford their own lifestyles, and each new generation was apparently more arrogant than the last – for what, Harry had no idea, but just the thought of that arrogant arse was enough to make his lip curl in disgust. The unfortunate truth of the matter was, they were simply too insignificant to bother with, politically.

The greatest slight against his House, had been Susan not coming to his aid throughout the year – House Bones and House Potter had a formal alliance, something that had been arranged through Arcturus and Sirius when the latter had become betrothed. That she had remained silent and aloof of it all was the only thing that had saved House Bones for formal reparations – not that he wanted to do something like that in the first place.

In the past month, he and Susan had spent much of their free time together, getting to know one another and finding a level of comfort between themselves. Susan was friendly, and far more open with him that he had initially expected her to be – he knew that she felt terrible over the events of the year and was striving to make up for it, but, at the end of the day, it felt good to have someone his age that wasn't in his immediate group of friends.

Would they spend time together at Hogwarts? He didn't know – she had her circle of close friends, and he had his. He would absolutely include her in anything they were doing if she asked to be, and he got the feeling that she would do the same, but there was no need to force anything.

His relationship with Susan was much like how his relationship was with Astoria, though not anywhere near the same extent. After all, he and Susan had essentially only started to get to know each other for a month, while he had known Astoria from around the time she could walk; in time, perhaps, he would be as close to Susan as Astoria, but it would take time – time he was very much looking forward to spending getting to know her. The bigger his little family got, the better.

There had been other things Sirius and Remus had spoken to him about, when they weren't psychoanalysing his life, as nice as it was. Sometimes, they talked business, or about the current political climate surrounding the Wizengamot.

One of those talks had actually been what had led to today's meeting – a meeting, he hoped, that would take a large chunk of his responsibilities out of his hands in the day-to-day handling of his House.

Specifically, his finances.

House Potter, as he knew, had vast sums of wealth that they had accumulated over almost two-thousand years, either through conquest, taxes, or various business ventures in both the Muggle and Magical worlds. Gringotts was all-well-and-good as a bank, but they did little other than to keep that money in basic circulation and provide him with statements. He needed something more than that, and he had just the person in mind.

The door opening behind him caused him to look over his shoulder – there, quickly slipping into the room, which was rightfully his, was Sirius, bedecked in his finest doublet with the silver serpent of House Black on his breast, and his hair neatly tied back. "He's just come through the Wards – are you ready?"

"Do you think he'll go for it?" He asked, sliding into Sirius's chair, while the man himself hurried around the desk to stand at his right shoulder. "I feel like he'll think it's charity or something."

"Not if you explain yourself well, and, for the record, I still think it's a brilliant idea." Sirius murmured lowly.

Harry made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat and adjusted his own doublet around his throat, loosening the collar just a little to stop it from becoming stifling. He breathed in deeply as he dropped his hands to the arms of the large chair and watched the door, breathing in deeply as he did.

"Here he is." Sirius whispered, just before the door opened once again, only this time it was Milpy, the Head Elf, who trotted through, her little head of hair bobbing adorably as she walked. She held the door open for a familiar man, in an equally familiar grey suit. Harry got to his feet quickly and held his hand out, Sirius following suit a moment later as custom dictated, regardless of how uncomfortable it made Harry feel.

"Wesley – I'm glad you made it." He smiled as the accountant shook his hand firmly, his blue eyes curious, but friendly. "I'm sure you've got more than one question."

"Just one or two, I suppose. Harry, Sirius. And please, call me Wes."

"Wes." Sirius nodded with his usual, disarming smile. "Please, take a seat."

Harry let Wesley sit first, before slowly lowering himself into his own seat. "So, I'll just get to it, I suppose, and we can all get on with our days – no doubt you'd like to get back to Hope, and I apparently have a birthday to attend."

"It's a hard life." Wesley grinned, winking at him. "Happy birthday, by the way – from both Hope and I."

"Thank you." He smiled. "Now, I'd like to discuss the bit of business we did at the start of the month in regard to the sale of the Basilisk, Ruhxu. If I'm being honest, I've never cared about money, nor do I think I ever will – my job, when I come of age, will be to increase the wealth, standing, and position of my House. You spotted something that I would have overlooked, and for that, I'm thankful."

"It was no bother – happy to help."

"In any event, I've given it some thought, and I have a business proposition for you. As you're no doubt aware, Gringotts does the bare-minimum; they're a bank, and while my House has used them for a number of generations as our primary go-to for all our financial dealings, I think it best if I break away from that tradition."

"Do you want my recommendations?" Wesley blinking, looking between the two of them. "I could get a list to you by Monday, depending on what you're looking for."

Harry smiled. "I won't need one – I've already made my decision. I'd like for your firm to handle my finances."

Wesley sat there silently blinking at him for a moment or two, before finally shaking himself and blinking rapidly as his eyes darted between the two of them. "I'm sorry, come again?"

"I want to put your firm on retainer. You would essentially be doing House Potter's bookkeeping, long term financial planning, consulting, and management."

"You're serious." Wesley breathed, slumping back in his chair, and wiping a weary hand down his face.

"No, that would be me." Sirius snorted, and Harry found himself rolling his eyes in time with Wesley across from him.

"Why me?" Was the eventual question the accountant asked; his voice soft. "There are bigger firms, more reputable firms out there."

He leaned forward in his chair and placed his arms on the desk between the two of them. "None of them helped me and asked for nothing in return – I'm used to people wanting my money, Wesley, or wanting something from me. You simply asked me to keep you in mind for future business – well, this is my future business."

"You've been a terrible influence on him." Wesley glared, looking at Sirius, who Harry could hear quietly chuckling under his breath.

"I know – utterly ruined him." Sirius returned, proudly; his amusement clear in his voice, and this time, Harry turned and grinned up at him. "This was his idea, actually – Remus and I only got him to think of it from every angle."

"I've thought it through carefully, and I really do think you're the best choice – I'd accept nothing less than a yes." Harry grinned cheekily, bouncing in his chair a little as his feet idly kicked.

"Technically," Wes said slowly, sitting up and pinching the bridge of his nose. "my firm could do that, but it would require a massive amount of capital to hire staff, move premises, contracting out experts – given the amount of work I can imagine comes with your, well, you, I imagine it's all going to cost quite a lot. I don't have that kind of money."

"I can provide it." Harry offered, shrugging a shoulder. "Whatever you need to help get you going, name it – House Potter will provide. It's the least we can do."

"I-" Wesley began, only for his jaw to snap shut a moment later. "You'd invest?"

"Of course – I'm asking a lot of you and your firm, trust me, I know. It's the least I can do."

"Uh, okay." Wesley swallowed, loosening his tie slightly. "So, I'll need a week to come up with a preliminary plan and timeline, estimate costs, that kind of thing."

"Sounds good to me."

"You're serious."

"I believe we've already had this conversation." Sirius snorted, and Harry fought the urge to throw his elbow backwards.

"I don't know what to say." Wesley muttered, ignoring Sirius.

"Say that you accept the position." Harry said, chuckling. "It'd make this whole thing go a lot easier, honestly."

Wesley ran his hand down his face and chuckled before leaning forward in his own seat, his elbows on his knees. "Okay – I'll agree to it, on one condition."

"Name it."

"You handle your money responsibly – I don't want to see you squander and waste it all."

"He's disgustingly frugal." Sirius snorted from behind him, and Harry glared at the man for a brief moment, before turning to focus his gaze on the man across the desk from him.

"I promise." Harry nodded, glancing between the two men. "I know it's usually customary to have a drink after this sort of thing, but I think Amelia might kick my arse."

Wesley laughed, as did Sirius. "That's perfectly fine, Harry – besides, if it's all the same to you, I think it best if I get going; I'd expect a detention with Hope when you head back to school for how many weekends I'm going to have to work for the next month or so."

"Here's my condition then: don't over-work yourself. I don't care how long it takes you to get everything set up, I'll still pay it, even if it doubles, or even triples the cost."

"You're a remarkable young man, Harry." Wesley said, getting to his feet. He held his hand out before him, and Harry quickly grasped it and gave it a shake. "I'm looking forward to this opportunity, despite all the work coming my way." Wesley added with a wink.

He watched as Wesley and Sirius shook hands quickly, and a moment later, Milpy trotted through the door to escort Wesley beyond the Wards that surrounded the property. Harry watched the two of them leave with a small smile; his shoulders felt lighter than they had for a number of weeks, and the tension bled off of him so quickly, for a moment, he thought his knees were going to buckle.

"I told you he'd go for it." Sirius grinned, clapping him proudly on the shoulder. "I think you've got yourself a good man, there – I remember him from Hogwarts. It's a shame he didn't meet us before, well, you know…"

"I'd appreciate not talking about that piece of shit today." Harry grunted, a dark mood quickly washing over him.

"Right, sorry." Sirius grimaced with a wince as he sank into the chair that Wesley had just vacated. Harry dropped, rather gracelessly, into the chair he'd just conducted his first official meeting in and blew out an exhausted breath of air.

"Is it wrong for me to just want to sleep the rest of the day away?" He asked after a moment, burying his face in his hands as he yawned. "I didn't think I'd be so tired."

"Same thing happened with me; you know – I think it's the stress of the whole thing. Besides, I imagine everyone would be pretty put-out if you didn't attend your own birthday. Dobby especially."

Harry chuckled, imagining the little House Elf frantically popping around the house, making the final adjustments to whatever it was he was helping Susan with. With Susan having been told to organise his birthday, Harry had been excluded from learning a damned thing, and the second he'd returned home with Dobby… Well, the little traitor had leapt at the opportunity to help with the preparations.

Dobby had… filled a hole – one that he didn't know had existed. Oh, he could have wrung his neck when his Bludger had destroyed his ribcage, but there was something about him; perhaps it was his frantic energy, or the large, emerald orbs that glowed up at him, or even just knowing that Dobby was always there, ready to look after him without a second's thought, but Harry had come to love Dobby in the short time they'd had together.

When they had found him between those two buildings in Diagon, with his magic almost completely spent, and so pitifully underweight, Harry's heart had been viciously torn in two. Dobby had been so exhausted from the bonding, that they'd had to carry him back to Blackwall after he'd passed out from exhaustion.

For two days, Dobby had to be nursed back to health, despite the healthier sheen to his skin, and despite not looking quite so malnourished. Harry's magic could only do so much after all, and his body had needed time to heal itself and repair what damage he had suffered. The other Elves had joined in, of course – even Kreacher – to help Dobby get back on his feet.

Susan and Amelia had instantly become besotted, fussing over the little creature day and night. He and Sirius hadn't been much better; Harry had brought both Hedwig and Clara into the lounge, where they had set up a little cot for Dobby to recover in, and they'd slept down there both nights. Clara hadn't even so much as made a squawk of protest throughout the whole thing.

When Dobby had woken up, it had been a little celebration for their family. There had never been any danger of Dobby not recovering, but still, they had worried. He had swept Dobby up in a crushing hug, and the Elf had giggled merrily into his shoulder as his little feet kicked as they spun around.

The two of them had become practically inseparable, until Susan had offered for Dobby to help with his party. For the last few days, Dobby had been a whirlwind around the Manor, darting from room to room, and cupboard to cupboard seeing to this or that. It was incredibly amusing to watch, and he was glad that Susan had thought to include him.

"He's been good to me." Harry nodded. "The least I can do is turn up – I can't say anything about staying awake, though."

"You'd better – that poor thing has been fussing about the house for days. Sometimes, I can't tell if they're really preparing your party, or if they're all up to shenanigans." Sirius chuckled, trailing a finger back and forth over the short hair on his chin; his eyes twinkling.

"Why do I feel like you're hoping for shenanigans?" He asked, a bemused smile threatening to undo all of the good, responsible work his exasperated stare was doing.

Sirius shrugged. "It's been a good while since we had a prank-war."

"You lost the last one."

"There's no such thing as losing a prank-war."

"I turned you blue for a week."

"My point stands."

Harry sighed and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Speaking of pranks – how are the Weasley twins? Amelia said they were round 'til late last night."

"Oh, they're fine – just had a catch up, and I passed on a spot of advice or two." Sirius grinned, folding his arms proudly as he leaned back in the chair. "I like to think I see a little of myself in them. Roguish, charming, funny…"

Harry snorted.

"Hey, I'm funny!" Sirius pouted.

"Your idea of humour is dropping that Sirius joke every chance you get."

"It's called consistency – I'll have you know it's a perfectly desirable trait." Sirius huffed, shifting in his chair as his nose lifted with feigned arrogance. "I'll have you know I've even heard people call it an attractive quality of mine."

"What people?"

"Oh, this and that."

"Amelia doesn't count. She'd put up with just about anything from you, I think." Harry scoffed, smirking at his godfather's put-out expression. "She's been good for you, I think. Despite, well, everything, you're the happiest I've seen you in a long time."

Sirius regarded him with a curious eye but nodded with a small uptick of the corners of his mouth as his eyes momentarily lost focus. "Aye, luckier than most." He breathed before his grey eyes met Harry's own once again. "After the whole thing after my trial, it just feels like, I don't know, wasted time – I hope you never go through the same."

"I'll try not to."

"Good – I expect you to be besotted with a pretty witch – or wizard – by the time you graduate. I'll need pictures of the two of you in your graduation robes." Sirius grinned, his eyes twinkling, even as they creased in the corners.

Harry cringed, even as he felt his cheeks warm under Sirius's gaze. "That's putting an awfully short amount of time on it."

"Got to keep up your Potter traditions – Charlus met Dorea at Hogwarts, and James met Lily." Sirius shrugged, though his smirk remained. "Say, what about, I don't know, Daphne? She terrifies even me, but you're getting to that age now."

Harry's nose crinkled, even as he felt the slight, icy sensation of pure fear dance along his spine at the thought of it. "She's like a sister – a mean one. It'd just be, I don't know, weird. It'd be like kissing Neville. Besides, she couldn't take my name, and I couldn't take hers."

"She could give up her inheritance and pass it on to Astoria." Sirius pointed out.

Harry rolled his eyes. "She'd never do that to Astoria. Besides, it'd be weird."

"Okay, what about Miss Davis?"

"I'd be eaten by that dragon she always talks about."

"Miss Granger?"

"I-" Harry began, only for his mouth to snap shut and his face exploded in heat – he wanted to sink into his chair as the fluttery feeling in his stomach returned.

"Oh, now this is interesting – what's the matter, Pup, Kneazle got your tongue?"

"Shut up." Harry huffed, sinking lower in the chair as he covered his face with a hand – Merlin, even his ears and neck were burning hot. "She's nice."

"Nice?" Sirius guffawed, and behind his hand, Harry could hear him slap his thigh as he laughed. Gods, Harry just wanted the chair to swallow him whole. "Is that why the two of you have been writing to one another so much?"

Harry nodded silently, his eyes clamped shut, even as he chewed on his lips. He never got this embarrassed – growing up with Sirius and Remus had pretty much seen to that. "It's been… nice." He muttered.

Sirius snorted. There was the scraping of his chair on the wooden floorboards, a handful of steps, and then his hand slowly being coaxed away from his face. He blinked at Sirius, who was kneeling before him, his hands wrapped around Harry's own, smaller ones. His eyes darted between his hands and Sirius's grey eyes nervously.

"Come on, what brought this on, hm?" Sirius asked, gently. There was still the amusement in his eyes, but his face was earnest.

Harry shrugged. "She kissed me on the cheek."

"She did, did she?"

He nodded and shifted in his seat awkwardly before clearing his throat, his eyes darting to the side. "It was – nice."

Sirius pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "I'll wager it was. Merlin, I've waited years to tease you about girls."

"Don't you dare." Harry said, a little louder than he'd meant to as his eyes grew wide and he sat up in his seat.

"Dare what?"

"Mention this – to anyone."

"Marauder's honour." Sirius winked. "Just remember, if you ever need any tips, just-"

"Go to Amelia."

"-come to me. Hey!" Sirius scowled, poking him in the side enough to make him laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Remus told me about your fifth year." Harry shrugged, innocently.

"Traitor." Sirius muttered with a pout, briefly glancing over his shoulder at the door. "He was supposed to keep that a secret. He broke the first rule."

"Is that the one about mischief, being a snitch, or being a cock-block, because the first rule is confusing." Harry frowned as Sirius turned to look at him, bemused.

"Depending on which fifth year story he told you, he broke all three."

"Oh, he told me them all." Harry grinned.

"Bastard." Sirius cursed, getting to his feet. "I suppose I deserve it after teasing you about the girls." He sighed waving a hand in his direction.

"He told me to point it out if you ever did it." Harry shrugged with a grin as he hopped out of the chair, his previous lethargy forgotten. "I always wondered what he meant by that."

"Merlin, how old were you?"

"Uh – seven? I think it was the week after you had to explain what a cock-block was. By the way, how do you fit three-" Harry was cut off by Sirius's hand clamping over his mouth – there was a brief, startled moment as his entire body tensed, but as he relaxed, his eyes narrowed as he glared up at the older man in front of him. The older man, who, coincidentally, had turned the same shade of crimson that he was sure he'd been only minutes before.

"I think you need to go and make sure everything is ready outside for your guests – and let Moony know I want a word." Sirius huffed, keeping a hand over Harry's mouth as he frog-matched him to the door. With a roll of his eyes, Harry stepped out into the hallway, and let Sirius push him gently enough to get him walking with a laugh.

It wouldn't be long until his friends and their families arrived for the day – the plan was to have everyone stay for the night, and he couldn't wait to properly show Tracey and Hermione around the house. He wandered through the house to the back door and quickly stepped into the cool breeze and closed his eyes as he breathed deeply.

With the worry of his meeting with Wesley gone, he felt lighter than he had in days. He had been so nervous – after all, why wouldn't he be? It was the first meeting he'd undertaken that would seriously affect his House for years to come. While he didn't know Wesley as well as his fiancé, he knew him to be a good man, and he obviously knew his business. He couldn't have asked for more.

He opened his eyes and began walking across the gravel, the crunching sounds the only accompaniment to his destination. Just as he was about to enter the stable, a brief flash of orange light caught his eye, and he looked to it with a grin – there, flapping lazily, was Clara.

She squawked her greetings as she flew in lazy circles above him, her long tailfeathers trailing after her. The familiar bark of Hedwig joined her a moment later as the owl landed on his left shoulder and nipped his ear playfully. He smiled and scratched her belly with his fingertips, chuckling as she closed her eyes happily. "Come on then." He said, looking to Clara in the sky.

He stepped into the stable and made his way over to Arlan's stall – the slate stallion's head already resting over the door, and his dark eyes watching him curiously. Arlan had spent time with both of his Familiars plenty of times and had even played with Clara once or twice – the memories of them racing across the fields were some of his favourite.

Hedwig hopped from his shoulder onto the wooden door next to Arlan's nose and barked quietly as she rubbed her face up against the larger creature. Clara landed at Harry's side a moment later and gently nipped his fingers. He rolled his eyes, even as he absently ran his fingers over the soft crown of feathers atop her head.

He spent time with the three of them, fussing over each of his companions as the day ticked by. He played a strange game of fetch with Clara; he'd name an item from somewhere in the stables, and she'd go off and get it – she couldn't use her Phoenix Fire, because that was cheating. Hedwig was content to be petted and fussed over, and Arlan had listened to his soft murmurings, even as he braided a few strands of his mane.

"Harry!" He heard, and he barely had time to brace himself before a little black-haired missile collided with his stomach, a pair of little arms wrapping around his middle and squeezing so tightly that he thought his head might pop off. "Happy birthday, Harry!" Astoria cried, giving him an extra squeeze, even as Piper darted about their feet happily.

Clara, who had never met the fox, hopped closer, cautiously, out of the corner of his eye, her dark, beady eyes peering at the black and orange fox curiously, her head tilting this way and that. As Astoria released him, he watched as Piper sniffed at Clara, his whiskers twitching before he gave little snuff-sound and began waving his bushy tail back and forth.

He turned his attention back to the girl that still had her arms around him and was beaming up at him. "Hello." He grinned, giving Astoria a little squeeze. "Did you just get here?"

She nodded so quickly; her dark hair bounced in its up-do. "Yeah, Dobby brought us, and Daddy brought your presents, but I'm not allowed to tell you what they are, but," She began quickly, almost bouncing on the spot with excitement. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "mine's the best."

"I'm sure it is." He laughed. "But you know you didn't have to get me anything."

"Of course we do – it's your birthday! Everyone knows you get presents on your birthday, silly." She huffed, flicking him gently on the chin as he released her.

"Where's your sister – don't tell me you left her behind."

Astoria snorted and rolled her eyes. "Daphne would never run anywhere. It's unbecoming." She said primly, affecting a scarily good impression of her older sister. As she knelt to fuss Clara, who was hopping and playing with Piper – the youngest Greengrass's affinity for his mischievous Phoenix something that put more than a little bit of fear into him – Harry finally took in Astoria's appearance.

She was dressed in a dark satin dress, though he spied the boots and trousers that peeked out from just below the hem. He chuckled and picked her up from behind, making her squeal happily and kick her legs – he was suddenly glad that Felix had taught him how to channel his magic through his body; he'd lost the ability to easily pick Astoria up years ago.

"Harry!" She squealed as he spun her around, her giggles bouncing off of the walls of the stables. Hedwig barked from her position next to Arlan's head, and both Piper and Clara danced around his feet. "Put me down, Harry!" She laughed.

He lowered her to the floor a moment later, the two of them laughing – Astoria's face was flushed, and a few strands of her hair had escaped in the excitement. "I thought I'd find the two of you in here." Daphne sighed as she appeared in the doorway, a bemused smile on her face.

"Daphne!" Harry grinned, wrapping an arm around Astoria's shoulders, and pulling her into his side. "I was just showing Astoria what she can expect at Hogwarts."

The elder Greengrass made a noise in the back of her throat as she approached. She wore a steel-coloured dress, though, unlike Astoria's thick tresses, hers was loose and cascaded down to her waist in elegant waves. "I'm sure – I do hope you know the price of doing such a thing to me." She hummed, pursing her lips slightly and arching an eyebrow carefully.

"Wouldn't dream of it." He grinned, releasing the younger of the girls as Daphne stepped up to him. She wrapped her arms around him and gave a quick hug before leaning back.

"Happy birthday, Harry." She smiled, her nose crinkling. "Mother and father are talking to Sirius and Remus at the moment – that Elf of yours is something."

He chuckled and glanced at all of the creatures around him. "I think I have a habit of attracting excitable personalities." He muttered, looking pointedly at Clara, who had the gall to blink up at him innocently. Behind him, Arlan snorted, and Hedwig barked quietly. "Come on, we should probably head back to the house before anyone else gets here. Come on, you two, off you go." He said, looking between his two Familiars.

Clara took off with a soft chirp, and disappeared through the stable doors, with Hedwig hurrying after her, though the two birds went in opposite directions – Clara went toward the trees, while Hedwig banked toward the house.

He glanced back at the silent horse, who was watching him quietly and gave his nose a gentle rub. "I'll see you later." He muttered, before following the two Greengrass girls out of the building – the older far more poised than the younger, who was running back and forth merrily with her fox.

Daphne's arctic eyes watched him as he joined her, and he looked pointedly at her mouth – he knew when she was trying not to laugh. "Something funny, Daphne?"

"Oh, not at all – I just enjoy seeing you brow-beaten by your girls." She replied airily. "Hard to think you could take on a thousand-year-old Basilisk but be pushed around by a Phoenix and a Snowy Owl."

"We both know Clara is far more intimidating than any Basilisk could ever be." He muttered, grinning at Astoria who paused in her little chase of Piper and beamed at him.

"I'm proud of you, you know." Daphne said after a moment, as Astoria and Piper darted ahead of the two of them. "I couldn't have done what you did."

He shrugged. "I barely did anything – it was mostly Clara during the fight. You, Tracey, and Hermione did most of the leg-work in finding the Chamber; I'm just the idiot that went in."

"You need to stop that." Daphne huffed, frowning at him. "You did a remarkable thing, and you saved the school; own it."

"I sold the Basilisk, by the way." He said, changing the direction of the conversation – it wasn't even a subtle attempt, and the quiet huff from Daphne let him know exactly what she thought of it. "Sold it at the start of the month."

"I'd heard." She hummed.

"The skull's with the Dwarves at the moment; seemed the right thing to do – to… I don't know, honour her, in a way?"

"The snake that killed a student, petrified others – including a teacher – and tried to kill you?"

"She'd been driven to madness. I could feel it, you know – as she died." He murmured as they stopped just outside the door; Astoria and Piper already having darted ahead of them and inside. "It was quick, and I didn't really realise until I went to let the Goblins in there to render the carcass. She was… grateful."

"Yes, well, I'm grateful that you survived." Daphne huffed, hooking her arm through his own as she lifted her chin ever so slightly. "I'd have kicked your arse if you'd have died down there – now, enough of all of this, you have a party. Come on."

He rolled his eyes and allowed Daphne to drag him into the house – they entered through the kitchen, and he inhaled deeply as the various smells of Woopy's cooking. The soft pops of the Elf darting about the kitchen were like a staccato drumbeat as he muttered to himself and snapped his fingers at this and that.

They left the kitchen, even as his stomach audibly rumbled, and made their way to the lounge. Daphne pushed him through first, rolling her eyes as he hesitated. The fact that all of his friends and their families would be at the house, meant that today was the largest birthday he'd ever had – he was used to small things, a quiet meal with his family and the Elves.

He opened the door and blinked at the sight of the room and everyone in it. Streamers hung from the walls, and a large banner saying Happy Birthday Harry! hung from the far wall. Balloons littered the floor, while snacks and refreshments filled the centre table.

There were more people than he'd expected; his family, and the Elves – even Woopy had quickly popped into the room, still whisking a bowl, to cheer for him – even his friends were there, with their families. Hope and Wesley waved at him, from where they stood next to Moony, a drink in hand and wide smiles on their faces. Even Professor McGonagall was smiling at him from a chair near Sirius.

He blinked. "I – you're all here!"

"Of course we are – you're the one who's late." Neville grinned as he raced over to give him a tight hug. Harry was sure his ribs were creaking. "Happy birthday, little brother." Neville whispered in his ear.

"Hey, I want another one!" Astoria cried, worming her way between the two of them until she had her arms wrapped around Harry once again. The two of them laughed, and Neville backed away with his hands up in surrender. He gave Astoria a squeeze and rocked the two of them side to side.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Tracey laughed, gently tugging on one of the strands of hair that had come loose since his meeting with Wesley. She gave him a quick hug, complete with a squeeze that threatened to break his shoulders.

He was glad that Astoria chose that moment to extricate herself from him, for a moment after she did, a brown-haired missile barrelled into him, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor if not for Tracey steadying him with her hands as she laughed. "Happy birthday!" Hermione cried into his chest, though it was muffled by both his doublet and her hair. She squeezed his poor, battered ribs before she quickly let go, a pink tint to her cheeks.

"Hello." He chuckled, before looking at everyone else in the room. "Hello everyone else. I hope there's no more hugs because I don't think I could manage any more." He grimaced, wincing as the room chuckled collectively.

Sirius stepped forward and gently led him to one of the nearby sofas; it was dark, somewhere between dark grey and black, and trimmed with silver thread around each cushion. One by one, he watched as wrapped gifts were placed by Dobby, his bright green eyes practically glowing as he danced from foot to foot.

The first he picked up, or rather, was shoved into his hands, was a small parcel, wrapped in silver, shimmering wrapping paper. The dangling tag had Augusta Longbottom's sweeping script going from left to right, wishing him a happy birthday.

He opened it carefully, including the box that the paper covered, and grinned at the trio of pump-action bottles that were as large as his fist. He looked up at the stern-looking woman, glad to see just the faintest hint of a smile on her face. "Thanks, Augusta – I was nearly out."

"Every wizard should smell acceptable, young man. And I happen to know they're your favourite." She said with a wink, sipping from the small wineglass in her hand. He placed the box of aftershave down, the clear glass bottles clinking together, even as the amber liquid caught the sun through the window.

Dobby handed him the next gift, this one clearly marked to have been from Hermione's parents. Once the wrapping paper was removed, he was delighted to see a toiletries bag, complete with accompanying hair and body products.

"Thank you." He smiled at them, holding it close as he placed it to the side.

"Not a problem – it's not much, but it never hurts to have some extra shower gel." John nodded at him, wrapping an arm around his wife's shoulders. "Jean picked out the fragrances."

"Happy birthday, Harry." Jean smiled.

The next was a large envelope, and he watched as Tracey's parents stood a little taller out of the corner of his eye. Inside was a simple card, which he read first, and laughed at the picture on the front; a picture of Merlin riding a broom so fast, his robes went up over his head and revealed his underwear. Inside the card, however, was the gift – a seasonal pass to watch the Holyhead Harpies.

"Thank you!" He beamed at the two of them, his fingers tracing over the thin, egg-shell coloured card.

"Thought you might want to see some of the pro's in action – Gwenog keeps improving each season." Evelyn smirked, winking at him.

"Mum!" Tracey sighed, exasperatedly, bumping her with her shoulder. Everyone laughed, and Harry accepted the next gift with a small, thankful nod to Dobby.

This one was a book, and he had no need to ask who had gotten it for him, from Neville's smug grin in the corner. Herbology For Squibs was stamped proudly on the brown leather front cover, and again on the spine. Small, thin vines of gold stretched like long, twisting fingers to the bottom of the cover to the top, wrapping around the title.

"Happy birthday, Harry." Neville laughed, clutching his stomach. There was a quiet murmur of confusion around the room until Harry rolled his eyes and showed them all the book – Sirius's barking laugh was the loudest among the ensuing laughter.

"You realise, that this means war, right?" He asked, mockingly glaring at the boy across from him. "Thanks, Neville."

The next present was from Lispy, who clutched it to her chest when Dobby went to take hold of it. With a huff, Lispy tipped her nose in the air imperiously, brushed past the confused House Elf and planted the gift directly in Harry's lap herself. He laughed as she did so and hugged her into his side as she hopped up onto the sofa beside him, her little feet kicking absently.

It turned out to be a knitted blanket; one of the sigil and colours of his House, with the wolf in the middle, only it wasn't alone. There was also a number of little figures walking beside it; clearly House Elves, the wolf had green eyes and a pair of recognisable scars.

"So I always be with you, Master Harry." Lispy murmured into his side as he hugged her tightly. "Even when you gets too big to stay here." She added with a whisper.

"I love it, Lispy." He said, kissing the top of her head. Lispy remained where she was while the other Elves, minus Dobby, edged forward – Milpy was holding a large box in her hands. He took the gift slowly and pulled them all in for a hug, even Kreacher, when he saw that it was a large, deluxe box of Sugar Quills. "You all spoil me rotten." He said, his arms wrapped around them. Even Woopy was there, still awkwardly stirring something in a bowl.

"Master Potter be liking sweet things." Kreacher grumbled, averting his eyes, and wringing his hands. "Kreacher be the one that suggested it."

"Well, I love it – thank you."

"Oo, do mine! Do mine!" Astoria cried, hopping up and down excitedly in her place by her parents. "It's the little one, just there!"

Harry picked up the gift that Astoria was pointing at – it was small and felt sturdy in his hand. When the paper was removed, revealing a smooth, black picture frame, he gasped at what he saw. There, in the familiar interior of Ollivanders was Astoria, bonding with her wand. The picture was animated, and he could see the joy on her face as her magic swirled around her excitedly.

"This is amazing!" He grinned, looking over to the younger girl, who proudly flicked a wand into her hand and held it up for him to see.

"Thunderbird Tail Feather, and twelve-and-a-half inches of Fir." She grinned at him. "You were at school, so I thought…" She trailed off, before darting across the room and tackling him. He laughed as he fell back and wrapped his arms around her as she giggled.

"Astoria!" Thalia sighed, though when Harry peeked around the dark head of hair that had been obstructing his vision, he could see the amused grin on both her parents faces. By his feet, Piper pounced on the pile of wrapping paper and tore at it with his teeth. As Astoria released him, he shifted over in the seat, nudging Lispy along as he did, to make room. The youngest Greengrass happily slid in beside him, the skirt of her dress piling up around her and making her look like she was sat atop a cloud.

The next gift was a simple, hexagonal box that was expertly wrapped in wrapping paper that shifted colour every few seconds, and for a moment, he was completely mesmerised by it – it went from silver, to a deep blue, to the most vivid green. It was gorgeous. He let Astoria help him unwrap the gift and grinned at the sight of a deluxe box of Honeyduke's Finest Confectionary. He looked up at both Wesley and Hope on the far side of the room. "Thanks!"

"Just remember to pace yourself – I'd catch Hell from Poppy if you rot your teeth at school." Hope winked, leaning into Wes, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders lazily. "Happy birthday, Harry."

Dobby's gift came next – a pair of hand-knitted socks, one in each of the colours of his House, with the prowling wolf on them. Within moments, he had his boots off, and his new socks on – the cotton was soft against his skin, and they were warm. He smiled at Dobby and pulled the Elf into a tight hug, the quiet sniffles only just audible. "Thanks Dobby, I love them."

"Dobby always be making sure Master Harry Potter Sir has socks. Socks be Dobby's favourite."

Castor and Thalia stepped up to him then, and Harry watched with curious eyes as Castor puffed his chest out a little – something he saw Daphne roll her eyes at out of the corner of his eye. "You've been good for Daphne, and a menace when it comes to Astoria." He winced as Thalia slapped him gently in the stomach, and Harry had to cover his mouth with his hand to stop himself from laughing as Castor visibly deflated.

"What my dear husband means to say," Thalia said with a put-upon sigh, despite the rumbling chuckles around the room. "Is that we both wish you a happy birthday. However, we couldn't quite fit your gift into the room."

"I-" Harry blinked, leaning back. "Beg pardon?"

"Your Stallion, Arlan – he's one of ours. We'd like to offer you a Mare for him."

He felt his jaw drop, and he blinked dumbly, while Astoria squealed happily at his side, clapping her hands as she bounced up and down in the cushion. "Oh, Mya would be perfect for him!" She cried.

"Mya would bully him out of his own stall." Daphne scoffed.

"She's strong-willed." Astoria retorted primly.

"I don't know what to say." Harry exhaled. "I – thank you."

The two stepped back to their place quietly, only to be replaced by Daphne, who passed the gift first to Dobby, and then Dobby passed it to him. "I thought you might appreciate this more than most." Daphne said as he opened the paper. It was another book, and, like Neville's, it made him roll his eyes and glare at his friend, who smirked at him.

He turned the book so the entire room could see it. It was a beautiful crimson leather, with silver detailing. On the front and the spine was the title: One-hundred-and-one ways to survive your heroic urges, by a wizard called Jonothor Darry.

"Thanks, Daph." He snorted, as everyone chuckled. "It'll become my new holy book."

"See that it does, Potter." She nodded, leaning forward to give him a quick hug. "I can't go teasing you about how pretty you are if you get yourself killed."

"Yeah, yeah." He muttered, tugging on one of her loose strands of hair. "I'll get you back for this."

Daphne snorted as she straightened and rolled her eyes. "I've nothing to fear from a Gryffindor."

"Hey!" Neville huffed, folding his arms. "We could be offended at that!"

"Oh please, you're the most Gryffindor Gryffindor's at the school." Susan snickered, covering her mouth with her hand. "Everyone knows it."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Sirius huffed with a pout.

"There, there, dear." Amelia soothed him, patting him gently on the cheek. "You just don't know any better, is all. We don't hold it against you."

Remus's gift followed – another book, only this one was something priceless and precious. The moment he saw the gold filigree on the black leather cover, Harry's eyes widened and darted between his two guardians.

"There's no way!" He breathed, his fingers tracing the lettering.

"What is it?" Augusta asked with a frown, setting her glass down on the table at her side.

Harry turned it over in his hands and showed it to the room at large.

"Sirius Orion Black!" Amelia shouted, swatting her husband on the shoulder.

"Oh, Merlin, no!" Wesley moaned, tilting his head back and staring at the ceiling, while Hope laughed, clutching her stomach.

On the front cover, in bold, golden letters, were the words, Marauder's Compendium – Harry knew the book, of course. He'd seen it multiple times over the years, sitting on one of the shelves behind Remus's desk, getting thicker year by year as it was added to.

It was the manifesto of the Marauders; all of their greatest pranks, from the initial idea, to the inevitable execution, all detailed in one, glorious book.

"I didn't do anything!" Sirius cried, holding his hands up in surrender. "Remus gave him the bloody book!"

"I know a Sirius Black idea when I see one." McGonagall huffed, straightening her skirt.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, peering at the book from her place next to her parents. "The Marauder's were your dad's friend group, right? They did pranks?"

"Hey!" Sirius huffed. "That's like saying magic sparkles!"

"They were pranksters, Miss Granger. Some grew up, while others," McGonagall paused as her eyes travelled up and down Sirius. "plateaued."

The room laughed, and Harry couldn't help but revel in the crimson flush that overcame Sirius – even Lispy was giggling into her hands as she leaned into his side. "Alright, alright, enough of that." Sirius muttered with a pout, though the corner of his lips twitched. "I'd best see some use out of that this year, Harry." He added with a pointed look in his direction.

"Rule number one." Harry nodded with a grin.

Susan stepped forward with a box – it was wrapped in golden paper and had a black bow on the top. He eyed it with no small amount of amusement and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Oh, shut up." She huffed, though she smiled, nonetheless.

He accepted it carefully, and gently unwrapped the present – though he handed the bow to Astoria, who promptly leaned over him to plant the bow on Lispy's head. The gift, as it turned out, was a brilliant mahogany box, with a hinged lid on the top. When he lifted the lid, soft, soothing music began to play. The soft tune instantly relaxed him, and he could feel a light wash of magic pass over him.

"It's charmed to relax you. I thought you might like it when you're doing your homework." Susan offered, biting her bottom lip.

"I love it – thank you." He grinned, closing the lid carefully and passing it to Lispy who placed it next to her on the sofa. "I think I'll have to set it up in the Common Room whenever I'm writing essays." He added with a smile, and he caught Hermione's little excited smile out of the corner of his eye.

Minerva was next, passing a small book-shaped parcel to Dobby, who diligently passed it on to Harry. The wrapping paper was tartan, of course, but inside was a first edition copy of A Wizard's First Duel, by Rupert Grafton. Harry blinked as his mouth opened but no sound came out. He looked at McGonagall and tried to form the words, but, again, nothing came out.

"I think he's actually been rendered mute." Remus snickered, causing Harry's mouth to snap shut with an audible click.

"That'll be the day." Sirius chortled, winking at him, despite the glare he directed between the two men. He opened the book up and glanced at the first page, his fingers tracing over the smooth pages. There, in swooping script was a message, to him! He looked up at McGonagall again, his eyes wide.

"We attended Hogwarts together – he owed me a favour. Happy birthday, Harry."

He passed it carefully to Lispy, who placed it atop the book from Remus, gently shooing Piper away when he wandered too closely and sniffed at the pile curiously. Dobby appeared before him after that, carrying a simple, square box wrapped in Slytherin Green wrapping paper in his hands.

"Oo, that's mine!" Tracey cried, bouncing on the spot excitedly and clapping her hands. He opened it slowly, his eyes cautiously darting between the box in his lap, and the dark-haired girl across the room that he knew liked dangerous creatures – she could be just as bad as Hagrid at times.

He peered over the lip of the box and was surprised to see a pewter Basilisk staring back at him, its mouth wide with a small blade through the roof of its mouth. He picked it up carefully, his fingers trailing over the finely engraved detail. It was an almost exact copy of Ruhxu.

"I offered a memory of it to the man at the shop." Tracey said as he looked to her. "I wanted it to be just right."

"It's brilliant, thank you."

"Oh, I know." She grinned, tucking her arms behind her back as the room chuckled their amusement. Hermione's was next, judging by how she was nervously chewing on her bottom lip and having to almost hold herself physically in place next to her parents. Dobby handed it to him after Harry placed the statue back into the box and Lispy took it from him.

The wrapping paper was perfectly wrapped, of course, and the tape she'd used to hold it all together was neat, and all looked to be the same length. He opened it slowly and grinned at his friend at what he found inside.

It was a sturdy looking oak box – not too tall that it was cumbersome, but squat enough that it could comfortably be tucked under an arm. In gold lettering on the top of the hinged lid were the words, Fleetwood's Broom Servicing Kit. He peered inside, noting a large jar of the finest polish money could buy, a pair of gleaming silver clippers, a tiny brass compass for long journeys, and a handbook for maintaining a broom for beginners. "Hermione, this is brilliant."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." He grinned, gently closing the lid. "Where did you find it? I've been looking for one for ages."

"Oh, they just started doing mail-orders – I saw an advert in the Daily Prophet and thought you might like it."

"You'd best learn how to look after your broom if we're to win the Cup this year, Mister Potter." McGonagall said archly. "Can't have you on a broom that isn't properly maintained. It could be a repeat of your first year."

"Oh, God, don't remind me!" Hermione moaned, burying her face into her mother's side.

"Of course not, Professor." He muttered, clearing his throat awkwardly as Sirius and Amelia stepped forward.

"Alright, so one is from the two of us, and the other is from House Black, officially." Sirius said, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Let's get the stuffy one out of the way first, shall we?"

Sirius handed him a small box-shaped gift about half the length of his arm and passed it to him with an excited grin. "Why am I suddenly nervous?" Harry asked, warily.

"I'm honestly hurt and affronted you'd feel that way." Sirius huffed, while Amelia nudged him with her hip. "Open it up – and none of that slow, neat stuff; really go at it!"

Harry laughed and shredded the paper while Piper placed his head in Astoria's lap next to him, his eyes following the pieces of paper as they trailed to the floor. Beneath the wrapping paper with the darting, Golden Snitches, was a fine, velvet box with the stamp of House Black on the top of the lid in brilliant silver.

He opened it on silent hinges and gasped at what lay inside. It was a wand holster, made of the finest dragon-hide he'd ever seen, and trimmed with fine, milky-white Mithril detailing that shimmered and almost glowed in the warm light of the room. Astoria gasped at his side and leaned in closer to see, her dark hair tickling his nose.

"Try it on!" Astoria gasped, quickly shoving the box into his chest and bouncing in the cushion. He pulled the sleeve of his doublet up and unclasped the leather holster he'd always used since he'd bought his wand. It slid out of the old holster easily and fit perfectly into his new one. Within moments, it was wrapped around his forearm snugly, and he barely felt it at all.

"It feels perfect." He muttered, flexing his arm this way and that before he flicked his wand in and out of his hand. "Thank you."

"And now," Amelia said, taking a large, thin parcel from one of the Elves that popped into the roof carrying it. "This is from the two of us."

Harry had to get off the sofa to unwrap it – it was half as tall as he was, and wide enough for him to stretch both of his arms out to touch the sides. He tore the paper off carefully and gasped at the familiar sight before him. There, nestled between the two great forks of the Dau Godwm, was Arpton Keep.

It was a beautiful, animated watercolour. Small birds flew from one side to another, and golden rays of sunshine lit the pale stone. The water was clear, and the banners of his House flapped in the breeze as they hung proudly from the ramparts. His friends rushed around him, gasping at the sight on the canvas.

"Where is that? It looks gorgeous!" Tracey murmured, and Harry shared a look with both Daphne and Neville, before glancing at Sirius and Amelia who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"It's my home – Arpton Keep." He breathed with a rush of air – Merlin, that had felt good. He felt his magic swirl around him for a moment before settling, like a layer of dust on the surface of his skin. It tingled and threatened to send shivers down his spin.

"That's yours?" Tracey gasped, and looked between himself and the painting with wide eyes.

"It's beautiful." Hermione whispered, her eyes darting back and forth in wonder, trying to take it all in. "What's that patch of forest there called?" She asked, pointing to the treeline just visible in the distance.

"That's Potter's Wood, it stretched all the way up to Potterton." He flushed as they both looked at him. "Hey, I didn't name them!"

"Where is it?" Hermione asked, edging a little closer to him – with a deep breath, Harry realised how close their knees were.

"It's uh-"

"Hidden by magic." Sirius said, startling Harry so much he almost fell back. "That's all he can tell you, I'm afraid – it's for the protection of those that live there."

"Come on you, stop being nosy." Jean grinned as she helped Hermione to her feet.

"But Mum! It's fascinating!" Hermione pouted with an apologetic look to Harry – Tracey, likewise, was shuffled off by her parents. He gave Sirius a thankful nod and felt his shoulders sag.

"The last thing we have for you," Sirius began, kneeling down beside him in front of the painting. "is from someone that couldn't be here." He said, pulling out a small, thin, nondescript box that was covered in a soft felt and had golden hinges.

"Who?" Harry asked with a frown, his fingers trailing over the warm surface. There was magic within the box, and it felt… familiar.

"Arcturus."

Harry's head snapped up at the softly spoken word, but it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear – all knew of Arcturus's death; he knew Hermione had written to her parents over the whole thing, as they'd passed on their sympathies through their daughter at the time. To have a reminder of the man sitting in the palm of his hand – it suddenly felt a lot heavier than it had a moment before.

He opened the lid slowly, the wood creaking painfully in the heavy silence of the room. There, sat on a bed of onyx velvet, was a pure silver pendant. It was a wolf, no longer than the knuckle of his thumb to the tip of the nail, and a serpent was wound around it, with its tiny head resting on the wolf's snout.

His fingers brushed it, and he took a shuddering breath at just how warm it was. It thrummed with the feeling of Arcturus's magic, and Harry almost sobbed at the familiar feeling; he had never expected to feel its like again.

"Here." Sirius said, his fingers gently picking the gift out of the box and draping it around his neck. "This is the only place it belongs. Now, he's always with you."

"I don't-" Harry tried, furiously trying to blink away the tear that threatened to leak out of his eye. "How-"

"Arcturus had it made for you in October – he thought you might appreciate feeling us with you. We were all supposed to imprint a bit of our magic on it, but, well, it didn't seem right, somehow, after everything." Sirius said, gently helping him to his feet.

"I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." Amelia said, smoothing his hair and cupping his cheek with her hand.

"Well, that certainly beat mine." Astoria huffed as he felt her arms wrap around his middle. Harry let out a surprised laugh and hugged the girl to him even tighter, not caring about the groaning of his ribs as she squeezed back.

It was like a dam had burst, and suddenly everyone in the room was laughing, clutching onto the nearest person in the hope that they wouldn't topple over or fall out of their seats. Harry watched as more than one person wiped away a tear or two. He touched the pendant and smiled to himself as the familiar magic wrapped around his own.

"Come on," Sirius said as the room quieted down. "why don't you give your guests a tour."

Harry nodded slowly as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He glanced at his friends and gestured for them to follow him, each of them gently nudged forward by their respective guardians, though Astoria remained steadfastly at his side.

He stepped into the hallway and smiled as Hermione appeared first, her eyes flitting all around her as she took in the wide corridor with the various portraits staring down at them. No doubt it all looked very different from the brief time she'd seen it all before at the wedding.

Neville and Susan were next, murmuring quietly to one another – when Harry glanced at his friend curiously, all he got in return was a cheeky grin that made him roll his eyes.

Tracey and Daphne were the last to leave the room, both patting down their skirts. Where Daphne wore a dress, Tracey wore a loose, black dress over a white, short-sleeved t-shirt. Of all the girls, it was only Hermione that wasn't in a dress – instead, she wore a checked shirt that was tucked into a pair of high-waisted jeans and a pair of comfortable-looking trainers.

"So, where does the tour start?" Neville asked, making Harry scoff, even as his hand gently clasped the pendant that hung from around his neck. "Do we have to pay?"

"You're supposed to be nice to me today." Harry huffed, looking to both Tracey and Hermione. "Where do you want to start?"

"Oh, can we see Arlan again? Please, Harry? Pretty please?" Astoria begged with wide eyes. "He'll be lonely."

"Arlan?" Hermione blinked, tilting her head slightly.

"Harry's horse – he's the best. Not as good as Mya though, but still really fun."

"You have a horse?" Tracey asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

"Aye – Sirius got him for me a few years ago. I guess we start there?" He sighed, already resigned to the fact Arlan was likely to act more like a peacock than a horse for the rest of the day. "Oh, come on then."

He led the small group through the house, while Susan, Daphne, and Neville each pointed out little things to both Hermione and Tracey as they made their way through. Occasionally, they'd pause for Hermione to inspect a portrait, or peer at a vase that she found particularly interesting.

He took them out through the kitchen, waving at a busy Woopy, and before long, they were crossing the gravel to the stable. He heard Arlan before he saw him; his horse was moving around his stall, probably chewing on some dry hay – after a moment, the slate-coloured head popped out of the stall and turned to look at them, even as his ears twitched every few seconds.

"He's beautiful!" Tracey gushed, rushing over to him, and running her hand gently down his face.

"Mya's prettier." Astoria huffed, though she quickly skipped over to the horse and scratched him under the chin.

Susan, Daphne, and Neville were content to quietly chat to one another – after all, they'd all met Arlan plenty of times, though Susan's experience was limited to the last month. Hermione remained steadfastly at his side, seemingly torn between greeting the horse and admiring from a distance.

"He won't bite, you know." He said quietly, nudging Hermione with his shoulder. "He only eats mean people. Or the occasional Phoenix."

"You're terrible." She answered with a small smile, glancing at him out the corner of her eye. "Clara is lovely."

"You don't have her waking you up in a morning." He grunted. "She's not afraid to pick me out of the bed – literally."

"She has character."

"Character, my arse." He muttered with a huff, ignoring the gentle backhand Hermione gave his stomach.

"Language, Harry. Birthday or not."

"Yes Professor Granger." He snickered, nudging her shoulder again. "Go on, say hello." He said, smiling. "I'll be right here."

He watched Hermione as she edged forward, closer, and closer to his steed. Tracey and Astoria spotted her, the two of them shifted to the side, while Arlan became as still as a statue, and watched her with his large, dark eyes.

Hermione raised a shaky hand and gently placed it between Arlan's eyes, as her own widened, and her mouth formed an O. Neville, Daphne, and Susan all appeared at his sides silently, all of their eyes trained on the girls and the horse.

"You know Astoria's going to ask you to let her ride him."

"I know." He chuckled, glancing at Daphne. "What about you?"

"I think you know me better than that." She retorted primly, clasping her hands before her with a huff. "I'm not dressed appropriately."

"Coward." Neville snickered, wincing as Daphne poked him in the side. "Alright, alright, Merlin!"

"It's weird, you know – seeing you all out of school." Susan hummed. Harry looked at her, arching a brow curiously. "You're all rather intimidating at Hogwarts, you know."

"Blame Daphne; she's terrifying." Neville muttered, grasping his side, and hissing as Daphne poked him again. "Bloody stop that!"

"Stop talking shit, Longbottom!"

"Language!" Hermione called from where she was fussing over Arlan. Harry laughed, despite Daphne's glare in his direction, and Astoria and Tracey's giggling.

"Thank you, by the way." Harry said, nudging Susan with his elbow.

"What for?"

"Arranging everything, inviting people, letting Dobby help."

"It was a pleasure." She smiled. "Besides, they're your friends." She added with a shrug.

"Dobby?" He called, and the little House Elf appeared before him with a small pop; his large eyes looking up at his excitedly. "Can you get me Arlan's saddle?"

"Yes Master Harry Potter, sir." Dobby nodded excitedly before disappearing.

"Merlin, you're not going to actually let her ride him, are you?" Daphne groaned, tipping her head back in exasperation. "She's going to be impossible!"

"Oh, let her have her fun." Neville grinned, passing Harry the bridle from the rack, the two metal rings clinking together.

Harry chuckled to himself as he made his way over to the stall, with the girls quickly moving out of the way, though Astoria started bouncing on the spot excitedly and clapping her hands – it was moments like this that he was really glad that Piper wasn't around; even though Piper was so much smaller than his horse, he wouldn't want him to be spooked.

Dobby appeared at his side, causing Hermione to squeak loudly and jump back – he tried to keep the amusement off of his face, but if the glare he received was anything to go by, he'd failed miserably.

He unlocked the door to the stall, and gently, but firmly, cupped Arlan's jaw – the two of them had long since passed the need for anything more than a guiding hand when it came to saddling Arlan up. The clopping of Arlan's hooves on the flagstones rang out throughout the stable, and he chuckled as Astoria ran her hand along Arlan's flank as they passed.

"Behave." Harry muttered, waving a finger between his horse's eyes. "You'll get to show off in a minute."

Arlan huffed and blew air in his face, which made Astoria, Hermione, and Tracey giggle. He rolled his eyes and quickly grabbed the light grey blanket from the rack and threw it over Arlan's back, making sure it was even and in the right spot. Once that was on, and he was sure there were no hairs from his mane beneath the fabric, he had Dobby pass him the saddle, which, again, he made sure nothing was caught beneath, and that everything was as comfortable as possible.

He secured the saddle with quick, practiced flicks of his fingers. The last thing to be secured was the bridle, which Arlan pushed his head into without complaint, wrapping his leathery lips around the bit, while Harry checked that none of the straps would choke him. With the bridle secure, and none of his mane caught beneath the straps, Arlan was ready to ride.

Picking up the reins, Harry led Arlan to a mounting box, which Astoria quickly scrambled onto. Arlan was a large horse; so tall in fact, that Harry couldn't actually see over his back if he was standing beside him – he'd likely need a mounting box for years more.

He held Arlan steady as Astoria mounted the saddle, her dress pooling up around her and revealing the breeches and boots she wore beneath it. Tracey and Neville snickered quietly to themselves while Daphne huffed audibly.

"Alright, you be careful, and you stay where we can see you – and on the grass." He said, firmly. Astoria nodded quickly, and Harry handed her the reins and stepped clear. "Go on then." He waved.

Astoria wasted no time, and barely a heartbeat later, Arlan was trotting out of the building with his head held proudly in the air. The six of them that weren't on the back of a horse followed slowly; even Dobby followed them across the gravel – no doubt he was ready to rush to help if it was needed.

"Hello." Hermione said, kneeling down next to Dobby. "We haven't met – I'm Hermione Granger." She smiled, holding her hand out to Dobby.

Dobby looked between Hermione, her hand, and Harry, who gave him a little nod. "She won't bite." He grinned.

Harry watched Dobby tentatively take Hermione's hand as his hand slowly crept to worry the thin flesh of one of his ears. "I be Dobby, Miss, Her-my-oh-nee?"

"Hermione." She repeated with a nod. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Dobby; properly, that is."

"Miss Hermione." Dobby repeated with more confidence. "It be pleasure to meet the Miss Hermione Granger – must bes great witch to know Master Harry Potter, sir; great witch indeed."

Harry chuckled as he watched Hermione blush prettily, while Tracey quickly moved to introduce herself as well. While his friends took turns meeting his Elf, and his newest companion, Harry continued watching as Astoria race back and forth on the open field before him.

Hermione appeared at his side out of the corner of his eye and nudged him with her shoulder. "When did that happen?"

"When did what happen? Oh, you mean Dobby?"

"He's the one that cursed The Bludger, right?"

He nodded with a grimace as he folded his arms across his chest. "Yeah. He used to belong to the Malfoy's – I tricked Lucius into freeing him; it's why he likes socks so much." He grinned, proudly. "I found him at the start of the month, his magic fading away, and he looked like skin and bone."

"His magic was fading?" Hermione gasped, a hand darting to her mouth as her wide eyes darted to the Elf that was currently in the process of being tickled by both Susan and Tracey. "The poor thing!"

"House Elves have an awful time of it." He shrugged. "For whatever reason, they need a bond to survive. Hogwarts has a small army of Elves bonded to it, you know."

"What if they're mistreated?" Hermione huffed, scowling. "Who steps in then?"

"It's not something you can really police – there's no way to know what happens in someone's home every second of every day. Sirius is supposed to propose some rights to help protect them more next month; hopefully, it does something."

"Is there anything I can do?" She asked, looking to Dobby with a worried frown as she nibbled her lip.

"Not much either of us can do." He shrugged with a sigh. "Sirius likes to keep reminding me we're just kids. He's not wrong, you know." He added with a scoff.

Hermione pursed her lips and let out a long sigh. "I hate not being a grown up. I feel useless."

The two were quiet for a moment, and Harry continued to glance at Hermione out of the corner of his eye. "I don't think you are." He said, "Useless, I mean." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'd be dead if not for you – I've even stopped counting now."

"Oh, shut up." Hermione mumbled, blushing. "I don't do much."

"You do more than most would or could." He replied with a small smile. "Did you know you were the first person, outside of Neville and Daphne, obviously, that thought about my parents?"

"Surely-"

"On the boat, in first year." Harry continued, nudging her with his elbow and leaning toward her slightly, ignoring how his elbow felt like it was tingling. "Don't think I'll ever forget that, by the way. Then you sat with me after the Troll, set Snape on fire-"

"Professor." She whispered with wide eyes.

"-solved the riddle, stuck by me after Draco, and worked out Ruhxu was a Basilisk. All the while staying the smartest witch in the school – you, Hermione, are anything but useless."

Harry's eyes were forced from Hermione as Arlan and Astoria trotted up to them, and he couldn't help but laugh at just how windswept Astoria looked; her hair stuck up at all angles, pulled loose from the up-do in all of her fun. "That was so much fun!" Astoria cried happily, panting.

"He always enjoys running." Harry grinned, taking the reins from Astoria as he helped her down, though truthfully, it felt more like she fell out of the saddle and into his arms. "Gods, Astoria, warn me next time."

"That's no fun." She huffed before throwing her arms around him again. "Thank you Harry!"

Harry chuckled as he gave Astoria a squeeze, before his eyes found Hermione again, who was smiling softly at him. It made his stomach do that strange thing again. "You're up next, Granger."

"What – no, I can't – I don't-" She stuttered as the colour drained from her face.

He grinned, holding out his hand to her. "Trust me."