Happy Saturday lovelies!
Look at me updating after a handful of days! This chapter is near and dear to my heart, and it is very long, and entirely about the future/present. A few things are revealed, and I hint at some of my plans for the remainder of Part I. Which is only about 40 more chapters, which is a little mad all things considered! Also FTT's fourth anniversary just passed, so happy anniversary to me lol.
Please, please leave a review and let me know what you think x
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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, only the story line and any OC's belong to me.
Saturday, February 13th, 1999
Lupin Den
There was an itch on the left side of his nose. Harry Potter put his hands on his hips, pushing back his jacket in the process.
"Where is everyone?" Harry wondered aloud, turning in a slow circle as he looked around the living room, scrutinising his surroundings and trying to discern where Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Teddy were.
Maybe they are at Potter Manor, Harry thought, hands dropping to his sides. The itch was back so he reached up and scratched it distractedly.
A harsh crack came from outside, and Harry's spine stiffened. He withdrew his wand from his back pocket, and faced the front door. He crouched down, crept to his left, and held his breath; his lungs threatening to burst.
The doorknob twisted, and the worn wooded door swung inwards. A Stupefy was bunched up on Harry's tongue until Sirius strolled into the house with levity to his step. Sirius's wand was outstretched in front of him, his body relaxed, yet there was a tautness to the way he held himself; a predator in search of its prey.
"Sirius?"
"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. The man tucked his wand in his back jeans pocket. His raven hair was glistening and pulled back into a high, short ponytail. There was a brightness to Sirius, a glow that gave Harry pause.
"What's going on?" Harry stashed his own wand in his inside jacket pocket, and gestured around the empty space. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable question.
"Oh, Remus told me last night that they were heading to Andromeda's for lunch today," Sirius said thoughtfully, rubbing the back of his hand across his chin stubble. "I got alerted that the wards had been tripped so I came as fast I could; I should have recognised your magical signature." Sirius's nose scrunched up in thought as he gathered Harry into a warm, stifling embrace.
Harry smiled into Sirius's shoulder, glasses askew.
Sirius tightened his grip on Harry, exhaling deeply. "Why are you here anyway, Harry? Is McGonagall aware that you snuck off the premises?"
Harry shrugged, burrowing further into his Godfather, "what Minnie doesn't know won't hurt her."
A low chuckle built in Sirius's chest and echoed through Harry, "I'd wager that she'll be stationed in the Gryffindor Common room awaiting your return."
"Guess I'll have to crash in the Slytherin dorms with Daphne."
"Is that so?" Sirius grinned toothily, pulling back to look Harry in the face, his hands resting on Harry's shoulders. "How is that going?"
"She hasn't hexed me this week, so I'd say well," Harry joked.
Sirius's smile flickered for a brief moment before it bloomed across his features once more. "Good, lad. The two of you make quite the pair from what I've seen." There was a faint twinkle in Sirius's eye as he spoke.
Harry's canines were proudly on display as he smiled, looking quite like a child with a lolly as big as their face. He shifted the subject effortlessly. "What time are Remus and the others getting back? We should eat supper together, I'll even cook."
A guffaw rattled Sirius's shoulders, "well isn't that an offer. I'll have to floo call them at Dromeda's, not to mention I would have to—" Sirius's mirth died on his lips, eyes round as dinner plates he gripped Harry's shoulders tightly and said, "I can't believe I forgot to tell you!"
"Tell me what?"
The corners of Sirius's eyes crinkled with joy. "I found Riley."
They were on the cusp of winter and spring, and the frigid wind slicing through their clothes only to part their skin and slither inside them was unforgivingly bitter.
Harry pulled his puffy, burgundy, bomber jacket tighter around himself, teeth chattering as he followed Sirius across the grass toward a quaint cottage. The grass squelched underfoot, the earth damp and pliant due to the downpour the night before.
Sirius was muttering under his breath. Harry caught slivers here and there: ruddy Potters, cottage. Try as he might, Harry couldn't piece it all together, there were chunks of crucial information he was clearly missing.
A sharp spike of nerves had plunged into his heart, spreading. Riley had been a foreign concept until now: a memory, a wisp of something that Sirius would mention erratically ever since his memories had returned.
I hope she likes me, Harry thought. It was strange; the way he desperately craved the approval of the witch he was about to meet.
Harry made note of the fauna surrounding the house: much of it had yet to bloom, but there were some brave buds that embraced the colder weather that were brazenly in full bloom. Some of them Harry knew the names of, most of them he did not.
Harry and Sirius ascended the short staircase. Sirius stomped his feet on the welcome mat—it matched the navy blue door—and hastily twisted the doorknob and entered the cottage.
Harry's feet were numb, but he urged them forth and he gingerly stepped over the threshold into the house. He carefully shut the door behind him.
Sirius had shrugged off his black motorcycle jacket—dropping it into a pile beside the door—and was in the middle of kicking off his boots when a pale witch flew into him.
Harry flinched harshly at the witch's sudden presence. He hadn't even seen her coming as she hadn't made a sound; he glanced down and found her feet bare.
Riley's oversized, sunflower yellow knitted jumper was a pleasant sight, it left one of her shoulders exposed, and deeply contrasted with her velour, track bottoms that were cinched at the ankles.
"Hullo, love," Sirius said affectionately, one hand held out to the side still clasping his black boot, the other was rubbing lazily up and down the witch's back. He curled around the witch, and rested his chin on top of her head.
"Was everything alright at the den?" Riley asked, she extracted herself and gazed warmly up at Sirius.
The soft gasp that fell from Harry's lips drew her attention. Harry tried not to stare at the puckered scar across her face, or her pale, milky eye; her long hair partially covered it regardless. He instead focused on her hazel one, it was open wide, and a single tear brimmed along its rim before skittering down her cheek.
"Harry," Riley said. Harry stiffened. There was a familiarity to her voice that was slightly unsettling. She abandoned Sirius and crept over to him, mouth parted, hands outstretched.
Sirius observed reticently, lowering his arms, his boot still firmly in his grasp.
Riley stopped a few inches away, her head tilted to the side curiously, eyes flitting about as she drank him in. She moved with the grace and delicate nature of someone approaching a bird, eager to reach it before it flew away.
Harry's arms fell limply at his sides, and he remained as still as stone. Riley's fingers found his cheeks; she was impossibly warm.
"Your ears don't stick out as much as James's," Riley smiled airily. Harry blinked at the woman blankly. That was not what he was expecting.
"Pardon?" Harry sputtered.
"His voice was deeper," Riley said, thumbs moving in comforting circles across his skin. Harry's brow furrowed at that, he knew his voice wasn't gravelly and sultry, but it was deep enough.
"What a peculiar thing to say," Harry said, nose scrunched up.
Riley's expression brightened, "you talk exactly like Lily! James's accent was always a bit more polished, what with his Pureblood upbringing and all."
Harry shrugged, "I was raised by my Aunt Petunia—Mum's sister."
Riley pursed her lips at that, icicles dropping from every syllable. "I've been informed. Sirius filled me on your…" She trailed off with a faraway look in her eye. "Dreadful people," Riley muttered. She patted his cheek gently.
"I'll floo Remus and tell him to meet us here for supper," Sirius said from behind them. Riley peeked at him over her shoulder. Harry saw deep lines appear on her forehead.
"We might not have enough food to feed everyone," Riley pointed out. She thrust her tongue into her cheek for a moment, then clicked her teeth together and said, "I was going to go to the shops tomorrow morning."
"I'm sure we do. Harry and I can whip up something, I'm sure of it," Sirius said confidently. Crossing over to the door, and bent at the middle he neatly arranged his boots there. He caught Riley's eyes lingering on his jacket, and he scooped it up, straightened out to his full height, and sheepishly hung it up on one of the coat hooks adjacent to the door.
Riley nodded. "Okay. I'll help as well. Harry and I can start by washing whatever vegetables we have whilst you floo the Lupins."
"Brilliant," Sirius said, dropping a kiss to Riley's temple before he headed to the living room.
Riley dropped her hands from Harry, peering at him once more before she padded over to the kitchen, squatting down in front of a set of shelves at the end of the kitchen counter.
It was bigger inside than it appeared from the outside: a well-organised, vibrant kitchen was opposite the door, white cabinets with blue floral decals painted on the corners, colourful pots and pans were in the dish rack beside the double sink. The pale stone countertops glittered, and dark, spidery lines threaded through them. There was a casement window in front of the sink with short, baby blue curtains that had been tied back, and an array of small potted plants lined the windowsill.
Harry's removed his trainers absently, placing them beside Sirius's boots. His feet carried him over to the kitchen table; he wordlessly pulled out one of the chairs and plopped himself into it. Harry folded his hands in his lap, and continued his examination of the cottage.
To his right, as you moved further into the house, you found yourself in an intimate, yet sizeable living room with plush blue sofas, a dark stained coffee table, and a white marble fireplace. The floors were light hardwoods. Abstract artwork littered the walls.
On the far side of the house was an open archway with that led to a corridor that disappeared around the bend, and Harry could see the edge of a door on the furthest wall inside the corridor.
"C'mon, Little Fawn. Time to start cooking," Riley said, clapping her hands together as she saddled up next to him, startling him and catching him off guard. Sudden movements still set him on edge; lingering effects of the war. Harry sank his teeth into his lip and his knuckles turned white as he attempted to placate his racing, aggravated heart.
Harry nodded minutely. He wanted her to like him, but he also didn't know what to say to her. She was nothing like what he'd envisioned.
Harry rose, tucking his chair back into the table as he followed her over to the counter where an assortment of herbs, carrots, beets, brussel sprouts and potatoes awaited them. Harry tried, he truly did, to keep his face neutral upon spotting the sprouts, but he detested them.
"They're quite lovely, once you roast them and season them properly," Riley commented offhandedly. She opened a drawer just enough to pluck out a peeler. Riley gathered a few potatoes in the crook of her arm—cradling them to her—and headed towards the sink.
The window was open just enough to let in air, but not to allow passage to the bracing cold. Riley's pale white hair gently swayed with the wind. He was on her right side. Harry busied himself by finding another peeler in the drawer, a cutting board and a sharp knife, and set about peeling a small pile of carrots, and then cutting the tops off of them.
Harry took special care whilst dealing with the long but girthy carrots, and he quickly fell into a rhythm. Humming trickled over to him, and he glanced at Riley in his peripherals. A jovial expression tugged at her face, and her humming grew bolder as she worked.
Sirius appeared on Harry's other side shortly thereafter, informing them that Remus and Tonks would be by sometime in the next half hour (Teddy was to spend the night with his grandmother). The wizard immediately dove into his host duties and removed a large slab of pork from the icebox under the counter on Riley's far side.
They mainly worked in comfortable silence, moving around each other with ease as they cut, peeled, seasoned and cooked. Throughout their meal prep, Sirius snuck by Riley and pressed a kiss to her temple, tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, and playfully poked her in the side.
Sirius had just popped the roast in the oven when the tell tale crack of apparition sounded from the front yard. Followed shortly by a large yelp.
The trio shared a look, and hurried out of the house only to find Remus hovering over his wife, heavily concerned as he examined her hunched figure.
"Love, what's wrong?" Remus asked, voice shaking, hands trembled as he held Tonks's face. She winced as she straightened out, her movements measured and cautious as she held an arm to her abdomen.
"I have no idea," Tonks rasped, face contorting in pain. A hiss squeezed past her clenched teeth, and then her expression smoothed out. A deep frown. "Odd, the pain is gone. There was this weird resistance as we apparated in, like something was grabbing me and trying to rip me away from Remus."
"Ah fuck," Riley said, a hand covering her mouth as she approached the couple. She appraised Tonks. The petite witch affectionately placed her hands on Tonks's upper arms, "I'm really sorry. I should have warned you two. The blood wards completely slipped my mind."
"Blood wards?" Remus asked blankly. "Riles, what on earth are you talking about?" The werewolf righted his navy jumper, folded his arms over his chest and looked expectantly at the witch.
"Did Hermione and Draco ever ask for your blood and not tell you what is was for?" Riley inquired, still peering up at Tonks. She asked the woman if she was feeling better, and Tonks nodded slowly.
Riley's question only made Remus's brow crease with perplexion, eyes glossy, and shifted from foot-to-foot. Beside Harry, Sirius boisterously proclaimed, "so that's what those phials were for!" The pitch rang in Harry's ears, across from him, Remus scrunched up his nose, and raised a hand to his ear.
Harry faced his Godfather, and observed the enthusiasm peter out on his face. Sirius's index finger ghosted under Harry's chin, eyes narrowed as they roved over Harry.
"What?"
"Did you feel any sort of pain when you came through the wards?"
Vaguely Harry overheard Remus pressing Riley for more details about the blood wards, and if Tonks would suffer negative effects. Tonks's assurances that she would be fine were hushed and her tone was not as sprightly as it usually was.
"No," Harry replied. Now that I think about it, I did feel a wispy tingle across my skin as we apparated into the yard, but it was hardly noticeable, Harry thought.
"Is Tonks going to be okay?" Remus questioned, his voice jumping a few octaves. Riley swore Tonks would be peachy in no time, as the effects of the wards would wear off shortly.
"Did they let her in because she was with me?" Remus asked.
"Yes. Only way for someone to get in is with one of us," Riley affirmed.
"Then why did Harry have no problems?" Sirius called over to them.
Riley's words in response were so soft, that Harry doubted she'd spoken at all until Sirius's head sharply whipped in her direction.
"I beg your pardon?" Sirius's words were pinched.
Riley removed herself from Tonks, hands on her hips as she toed the ground and regarded Sirius. Her painted—neon yellow—toenails as bright as the sun against the grass. "They got some of James's blood as well, and the spell includes all descendants—the two of us were here when they performed the ceremony."
Sirius's hand dropped from Harry, and he took two giant steps and stood a hair's breadth away from his witch, hands on his knees as he crouched down so they made eye contact, and tightly asked, "what do you mean you were here when they performed the ceremony?"
Riley shrugged, biting her lip, her gaze dropping to her feet.
"Why is the first time I am hearing about this, Riles?" Sirius asked, a bit kinder.
"Hermione and Draco were very cryptic about the whole thing, and James and I didn't ask too many questions."
"So they asked you two out here, asked you to do blood magic, and you never thought to ask questions?"
"When we asked why, they both went purple in the face as they tried to explain, and James hurriedly cut them off. They said they couldn't explain, but that it was absolutely necessary." Riley tapped her fingers across her thigh.
Sirius sighed, unfolding himself and tugging his witch into a tight embrace. "It must have been the ruddy Unbreakable Vow that stopped them from saying anything."
"Unbreakable Vow?" Harry asked hollowly, eyes wide. No one had informed him about an Unbreakable Vow.
All four adults solemnly considered him. It was Remus who broke the silence, "it seems we have much to discuss."
A few hours later, they had consumed their delectable meal: roasted vegetables and a juicy roast pork—Harry begrudgingly admitted that he had enjoyed the brussel sprouts when Riley asked—and they were all now several glasses deep into their alcoholic beverage of choice. Harry languidly sipped his butterbeer, the condensation on the bottle gathering on his hand.
They'd tersely discussed the Unbreakable Vow over the duration of the meal, but Tonks cracked a lame joke and the tension had melted from the group. Subsequently, Harry had sailed the conversation into the sea of memories as he innocently asked about some of their teenage exploits.
After the meal, Harry offered to help wash up, when Kreacher appeared with adamant protestations and banished them all from the kitchen.
Presently, Riley and Tonks were cuddled on the couch together, sharing a grey, knitted blanket. Sirius was on the floor in front of the couch, head resting against Riley's leg, and Remus was sat beside Harry on the loveseat adjacent to them.
"Fucking Smith!" Sirius exclaimed.
"Dray hated him," Remus chuckled, nursing his Firewhisky.
Sirius rudely snorted, raising his own stout glass of Firewhisky mockingly in Remus's direction. "As if you didn't growl when his name was mentioned on more than one occassion." Tonks raised her eyebrows in amusement at the revelation.
"He was a bit of a prick," Riley said pensively, finishing the last of her butterbeer. She pulled her wand from behind her ear, and non-verbally sent the bottle over to the kitchen where it landed with a dull thud on the counter, and she summoned another one.
"Agreed," Remus said, lips curled into a smile.
"Whatever happened to him?" Sirius asked.
"Got picked up by an American Quidditch team last I heard," Remus supplied. "Not long after we graduated."
Intermittently Tonks would let out a string of giggles, and burrow her face into Riley's shoulder in an attempt to stifle them. This time, she decided to tack on, "how precious, my Moony was jealous when the big bad boy talked to his Foxy lady."
Harry almost choked on his butterbeer. "Foxy lady?" Harry asked weakly, swiping away the drop of butterbeer hanging off of his bottom lip that had escaped his mouth.
"She hated the nickname at first, but I think it grew on her," Sirius said dreamily.
Riley rolled her eyes, prodding the back of Sirius's head, "that's what you like to tell yourself. She told you to fuck yourself when you suggested she dress up as a fox for Halloween that one year."
The mood in the room plummeted instantly. Riley stiffened as she realised what'd she'd said. "Sorry," She whispered.
"It won't ever be the same will it?" Remus asked, his voice smoke and pale.
"No," Sirius answered, but with a feeble smile he added, "but we did have a few good ones, didn't we?"
"Fifth year was probably the best, but Sixth and Seventh year weren't too shabby," Remus commented, taking a large swig of his Firewhisky.
"Seventh year started out shite, but ended marvellously," Sirius said, swirling his amber drink around in his crystal glass. Riley raked a hand through his tresses, pausing to rub his scalp every now and then.
"Draco even convinced you to wear fishnets," Remus smirked, elbow resting on the loveseat's arm, hand now thrust into his hair.
"Draco did?" Harry asked in a tiny voice.
"Persuasive arsehole," Sirius said, shaking his head as a jocund spirit possessed him, and radiated out of every pore as he drifted away and waded down a nostalgic river. Harry had a hard time wrapping his head around his Godfather's reaction, and the undeniable affection he held for the wizard.
Remus began to regale the night in question, and Harry's eyes fluttered shut, trying best as he could to picture it.
"Look at you lot, a sight you are," Lily tsked. She sniffled loudly as she unstoppered a tiny phial of pepper-up potion. Remus's head lolled to look at the witch. There was a keen determination bewitching the redhead.
Lily vanished the phial with a flourish of her wand, which she then stashed in her large, tan trouser pockets.
"What are you wearing?" James asked curiously, pushing his glasses further up on the bridge of his nose as he took in her outfit.
A long-sleeved white button down with a crisply pressed collar that was buttoned all the way to the top, loose trousers that covered her feet, a long dark tie with fine, white dots that stuck out the bottom of a cinched, black waistcoat; Lily Evans was certainly a sight to behold.
"I'm dressed up as Annie Hall," Lily said curtly. She gestured animatedly towards him, "you're one to talk! Look at your outfit!"
"I'm sorry, Annie who?" James asked, ignoring her dig at his attire.
"Annie Hall. She's a character in a film that came out—you know what, nevermind, it isn't important." Lily strode round the couch, towering over where the six Marauders laid in various positions on the floor.
The wix are bold, gay and daring in their outfits. Hair wild, untameable. Lily's eyes lingered on Sirius's fishnet stockings, garters, leather corset and feather boa, and travelled over to heels and glittery number clinging to James's body. She shook her head violently, re-routing herself and focusing on the task at hand.
"Film?" Peter asked apathetically, peering at her through his half-hooded eyes. Lily didn't acknowledge his comment: she steamrolled ahead as she had a plan for their evening, and she wasn't going to be deterred by their listlessness.
"You lot are moping around like a rout of snails, I can taste your foul mood from my room!" Lily declared, hands thrust out to the sides. She grit her teeth, and firmly stated, "and I won't be having it. Now you are all going to get up and we are going to the Halloween Ball."
Absently, to no one in particular, Sirius waved a hand and said, "Dr. Frank-N-Furter at your service."
Lily stared at Sirius as she clapped her hands together. "I am not joking, we are going."
"Lilypad," Draco groaned, lifting his head from Remus's lap. "None of us are in the mood to prance around the Great Hall right now."
"Which is precisely why we are going to. As a matter of fact, I expect to see plenty of prancing."
"After this morning—" Hermione tried.
"No. We are not going to dwell on that tragedy. We are still alive, and that's why we are going to make something of today. I refuse to let you lot stew here, and wallow in your misery."
They sluggishly trekked through the Castle to the Great Hall. All taking deep breaths before they entered the mix of wix in fancy dress robes and outfits. They halted on the fringe of the assembly, their moods still dull around the edges. Lively music pumped through the space as a string quartet played their hearts out.
A loud gasp drew the attention of the majority. Who then followed Minerva McGonagall's gaze. Minerva nearly fainted when she took in Sirius's ensemble. She clutched at her chest, and immediately found a chair to quell her shock. Dumbledore looked rather amused at the display.
The delight that erupted from their fellow students was deafening. The Marauders basked in their jubilation, and were soon swept up into the middle of the room. The music grew to have a more jubilant quality, and the mirth leaping around was infectious. They couldn't help but join in, and a weight was hurled off of their chests, and the septet danced until their feet were sore.
Their friends carried them around the room, ebullient laughter bouncing out of them. Alice, Lily and Hermione twirled in circles. Frank and Draco lifted James up onto their shoulders, and he kicked his feet out dramatically as he waved his hands around with a fluidity that would make water envious.
Remus caught sight of Sirius frozen amongst the merriment, and the world slowed as two brothers drank each other in. Sirius's painted face was contorted in agony, and he faintly tried to smile. Regulus made a gesture that made no sense to Remus, but Sirius clearly understood.
The pain trickled out of Sirius, his shoulders slumping in relief, and with tears brimming in his eyes he nodded at Regulus. Regulus's face was stony, unreadable, but Remus blinked and he was smiling. He blinked once more and Regulus turned away and disappeared into the throng of students.
Mary skipped over to Sirius, took him by the hands, and spun him around. Genuine joy broke out onto his features, and he threw his head back in a bark of a laugh. The auburn haired girl was wearing a golden gown with long, lace sleeves, a tight bodice, and the sparkly skirt floated around her as she danced, made of layers and layers of tulle.
The uncertainty of their future's had cruelly knocked the wind out of them that morning, but that night their spirits were invigorated, and they recalled that with the bad, there is also good. With that held fast to their chests, they enjoyed their night with abandon; not a care in the world.
Remus's story wrapped up, his voice a bit hoarse. He wet his palate, and shifted in place. Harry's eyes snapped open.
"Draco may have convinced you to wear fishnets, but do you remember that he dressed up as Magenta, the maid?" Riley tittered, face alight as she reminisced.
"Please tell me you have pictures from that night! I NEED to see this for my own eyes!" Tonks jovially bellowed.
"We do, somewhere," Riley said, smiling. Tonks grinned conspiratorially.
With great purpose, Tonks untangled herself from her shared blanket, sprang off the couch and skipped over to the kitchen in search of more Elf wine. She almost knocked over three things on the way there, but she cried out in triumph as she discovered an unopened bottle.
Kreacher sneered at her as she passed by him. He was busily using magic to control the cloth wiping down the kitchen counters; his pointy fingers waving through the air.
Tonks returned to her prior seating arrangement, and toothily grinned as she uncorked the bottle. She lobbed the cork at Remus—who easily caught it. She winked at her husband and took a hefty swig of the rich liquid.
Fish are more likely to fly than me believing that Draco did that, Harry thought.
Harry tried, he did, but imagining Draco as anything other than the prick he'd grown up with was an onerous task. The mere concept of Draco being his Uncle was inconceivable.
Riley must have seen something on Harry's face that concerned her, as she asked, "Harry are you alright?"
Remus cleared his throat, "Draco and Harry weren't…well, they didn't have the best relationship growing up."
"But…" Riley's brow puckered, and she halted her ministrations in Sirius's locks, and instead gripped her butterbeer bottle tighter, a finger tracing errant patterns along the length of it.
"Draco Malfoy and Harry were enemies in school is the kindest way to put it," Sirius exhaled laboriously through his nostrils, downing the rest of his drink. "Draco Malfoy was raised by his Father, Lucius Malfoy, who, well, you know Lucius. Dreadfully nice bloke."
Due to the unusual circumstances they had all been thrust into, Sirius and Remus were forced to interact with the wizard on a regular basis, and for what it was worth the man appeared to be changing for the better. He was still judgemental and rarely deigned to exchange niceties, but he was better.
Riley's face crinkled. "No, the word nice doesn't come to mind when I think of that man. A few other choice ones, but definitely not nice."
"Draco was a bit spoiled as a child," Remus tacked on.
And a Death Eater…and a prat, Harry added silently. He chose to swallow his thoughts as he came to the conclusion that saying that aloud would not garner a favourable reaction.
Draco's previous transgressions flitted through Harry's mind: Draco heading the creation of a cruel chant that was lobbed at Ron during Quidditch games, Draco's 'Potter Stinks' badges, the Inquisitorial Squad, and fixing the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement to name a few.
Imagining the Draco they held in such high esteem was…hard for Harry as he was nothing like his Draco.
"They left me with the Durselys," Harry said. The words left his mouth before he had a chance to ruminate over them; their origin was a mystery, but once they settled over his companions, he realised that perhaps the thought had been festering at the back of his mind for a while.
"Unfortunately," Sirius allowed, dropping his crystal glass on the coffee table forcefully.
"That is unfair, Pads. That was out of their control," Remus said reticently, pulling one of the loveseat's cushions into his lap as if seeking comfort.
Harry leaned back in his seat, sinking into the plush seat. His butterbeer was warm, but he tipped it to his lips and gulped half of it back. It fizzled and crackled on its way down, yet it was buttery and smooth.
"Apparently a lot was out of their control. There was a lot of shite that they just let happen," Sirius said bitterly, eyes now closed, and he pressed the heel of his palms against them. He clicked his teeth together, and with a heavy sigh immediately amended his statement. "I know they couldn't, and I know that it could have fucked with everything. I understand that. It doesn't make it any easier to digest."
Heavy darkness hung over the room. Remus sliced through it with a serene voice, fingers splayed across the white pillow as he spoke, "you remember that Hermione and Draco were almost murderous towards the Dursleys at Prongs and Lilypad's wedding?"
"Draco said something to Vernon during the reception that made him turn frightfully pale, and he huffily dragged Petunia away from Lily without a word and the pair left," Riley said thoughtfully. "Hermione glared at the man ferociously whenever he was in her line of sight. She made a passing comment to me—shortly before they left—and said she was contemplating making his shoes two sizes too small and adding a permanent sticking charm so they would get stuck on his thick feet."
Harry's eyebrows shot upwards, and unable to think of anything else to do with himself, he went to take another sip of his drink, but his teeth knocked the lip of the bottle. With a grimace, he recoiled. He advanced once more, and was successful this go around.
"They knew, but that doesn't mean they liked it." Remus said, eyes locked on Sirius, some of his sandy hair falling in his eyes. "I was positive Draco was going to resort to physical violence at one point. Pretty sure he refrained for Lily's sake."
Harry finished his butterbeer. He held the bottle close, giving his hand purpose. His free hand laid facedown on his thigh, and absentmindedly picked at his jeans.
Without warning, Sirius rose from his seat. Stamping his feet and rubbing a hand on his left thigh. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's almost curfew so Harry should probably head back to Hogwarts."
Part of Harry wanted to stay longer, but the sun had long since retreated, only for the blanket of night to cover the land. A bigger part was grateful, as he was a little overwhelmed, and faintly he recalled that he had promised to study with Daphne tonight. She was going to hex him for standing her up.
"Who are you and what have you done with Sirius Black?" Riley teased. She placed her butterbeer on a side table, and after some adjustment she unwound herself from the blanket and stood up.
Tonks folded the blanket around herself, hissing about the cold as she necked the rest of the Elf wine. She sulked as she held the bottle upside down in front of her eyes. A teeny splash of dark liquid soared onto the blanket and stained it. Tonks's mouth fell open, and soft curses left her mouth as she vanished the bottle and scourigified the blanket.
Tonks caught Harry staring and raised her index finger to her mouth. "Shhhh," Tonks hissed. Harry smothered the chuckle that threatened to spill out of him, and nodded conspiratorially. Tonks beamed at him.
"I knew I liked you for a reason," Tonks announced. Confusion tugged at everyone else aside from Harry, and he snorted in amusement.
"Okay. On that note, I'm going to walk, Harry out," Sirius said. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and strode towards the door. Riley trailed after him.
Harry stood up, bottle still in hand, limbs stiff from inactivity. He headed towards the kitchen to dispose of his bottle, when a snap tickled his ears and it dissipated from existence. His fingers grasped at air.
Kreacher stepped in front of him, an impassive expression neatly fitted into place. "Master Potter must get back to Hogwarts." There was surprisingly no malice in his voice, and without another word, he vanished with a pop.
"Are we certain Kreacher is feeling alright?" Harry asked.
"For whatever reason, he's been in what could misconstrued as a cheery mood as of late," Sirius answered with a shrug. "I think Mipsy's influence might have something to do with it."
The Potter Elf had been visiting at Kreacher at least once a week recently. Originally, he had hurled silverware at her, but now they were perfectly cordial.
"Kreacher had a bad Mistress. Mipsy knows. Walburga was a horrid lady, she offered up Mjpsy's pup to the evil man. So Mipsy will keep Kreacher company, make sure he treats her pup right." The House Elf had informed Sirius as she dusted off the lamp on his bedside table.
Harry walked over to the door, and was ambushed by a hug. Riley clung to him with reckless abandon. Harry woodenly hugged her back, his body surprised stiff.
There were only a selection of people that were physically affectionate towards him, and whilst he was unopposed to it, he was unused to such actions from someone he hardly knew.
"Sorry. I know we just met. I—I've really looking forward to meeting you." Riley peered up at him with her big eyes. "You're even better than I imagined."
Harry's cheek flushed, he'd never been good at receiving compliments. "It was brilliant meeting you too." He defrosted and his arms wrapped around her more firmly. She radiated happiness.
Harry bid everyone farewell: Tonks sloppily kissed his cheeks three times each before she ruffled his hair, Remus's embrace was brief, but warm and comforting, and Riley squeezed his hand once more before he headed out into the night with Sirius.
The temperature had dropped drastically, and Harry's jacket was no match for the wind. Sirius was uncharacteristically quiet. They slowed to a halt, and Sirius pulled Harry in for an embrace full of meaning. Though Harry couldn't decipher what he was being told.
"They might not have changed anything, but if I know them as well as I think I do…it killed them." Sirius spoke directly into Harry's ear, so there was no threat of the wind stealing away with his words.
"Even Draco?" Harry asked sarcastically. He couldn't help it.
"Harry, he isn't the same person he used to be."
"So you keep telling me," Harry responded. Draco Potter was beginning to form into a more tangible concept; a shadowy, ghost of one.
"We'll talk more about it soon, Harry," Sirius promised. His hands rubbed across Harry's back in a comforting gesture. "For now, you best be off before Minnie decides to spell away my hair or something as equally heinous."
Harry's laugh in reply was easy, effortless. Something Riley said earlier played on his mind. "Did his ears really stick out more than mine? You know I've never even worried about my ears before."
Sirius laughed heartily, "a bit, but Riles was just teasing. If it makes you feel better you both walk the exact same."
"So when Snape said that my Father strutted around the Castle—"
"I wouldn't exactly call it a strut," Sirius chortled. He released Harry, patting his shoulder. A more grave touch cast across him, "I know Remus and I say this a lot…but you would have made them both so proud, Harry."
Harry winked, stuffed full of good food and levity, he smiled, "I know."
Sirius shook his head, a grin playing at his lips, and he took a step back, hands folded across his chest. "I'll see you soon, Harry."
"Before you know it," Harry shot back. He raised his hand in a brief wave, and with a gust of frigid wind encompassing him, he turned on his heel, and disapparated.
The scene sharply faded and shifted to the familiar buildings and streets of Hogsmeade village.
With practiced ease, Harry slung his Invisibility Cloak around himself and made the trek back to the Castle. Thankfully the gates were not closed, although Filch had set up a station just inside, but the man was nodding off, his dusty hair covering his face as he snoozed. Soft snores whistled out of him. Mrs Norris was dutifully keeping watch by his feet.
Harry made it to the Entrance Hall uninterrupted. Lit torches lined the space, the doors to the Great Hall were shut. All was quiet.
Harry bent down to unlace his trainers, and remove them from his feet. The cold tile unlovingly nipped at his soles through his bright orange socks. With his shoes in hand, he crept up the Grand Staircase, footfalls muted as he set off towards the Gryffindor Tower.
Harry almost had a run in with a perfect or two around sharp corners—narrowly avoiding them before he crashed into them (he hadn't seen them coming since he'd left the Marauders Map with Ron earlier as he'd wanted to sneak out to see Padma). Many a corridor, and several moving staircases later, Harry finally reached his destination.
Sat primly in the middle of the landing in front of the slumbering Fat Lady's portrait was Daphne Greengrass. She'd arranged the skirts of her sheer black nightgown over her knees, and its long, flowy sleeves were bunched up around her elbows as she French braided her hair.
Harry observed as she reached the end of her locks, and deftly secured it with a bright pink scrunchie (Ginny had cavarliely bestowed it upon her a week ago at Breakfast without an explanation before she planted herself in Theo's lap.)
A hint of her curves was evident through the material as it glided over her curves, but she would insist that it was modest sleepwear and decent enough to traipse about the Castle at night.
Daphne folded her hands in her lap and wriggled her bare toes against the stone. Her posture was impeccable.
As to not startle her, Harry gently slipped the Cloak from his person, and cautiously finished making his way up the stairs, hopping over the missing one as he went. She must have sensed him, but she stubbornly stared straight ahead of her. Harry silently sat cross-legged in front of her. His shoes resting on the ground beside him.
Neither of them moved. Daphne didn't say a word, nor did she show any recognition of any kind. She fixed him with a cool stare.
"Sorry. I got caught up and lost track of time," Harry tried. Daphne quirked a brow, signalling for him to continue. Harry rubbed at his neck. "Sirius found Riley. He wanted to take me to go meet her."
"Was she nice?" Daphne asked, a tundra emitting off of her. She flicked her honey blonde braid over her shoulder, her dark blue eyes half-lidded.
"She was delightful, but not what I expected…" Harry said. He scratched the back of his head. The boy didn't know where to begin in describing his Godfather's fiancée.
"They tell you anything more about Draco and Hermione?" Daphne asked carefully, her voice not betraying how eager she was to hear about her old friend.
Harry grunted in affirmation. Daphne scoffed, shifting so that she was kneeling in front of him. Harry opened his arms, and she climbed into his lap. She toyed with the hairs at his nape. He slid his hand up and down her back in a gentle caress.
"I honestly don't know what you saw in him," Harry said. Daphne flicked his nose. Harry flinched. "What the fuck, Daph. I was just telling the truth."
"Draco might have been a twat sometimes, but he was loyal, and even if he was sharp-tongued, there was a kindness to him. He showed it more with his actions than his words." Daphne huffed, face twisted in irritation.
"Just sometimes?" Harry asked, nudging her jaw with his nose.
"Fuck off. Is that all you got from what I just said?" Daphne shot back.
"No. To you, Draco wasn't that bad. I also gathered that."
"He had a good heart, under it all. Plus the war really changed him, he was nowhere near as big a twat as he used to be after the Dark Lord's defeat."
"Voldemort," Harry corrected, more out of habit than anything else. Daphne shuddered at the mention of his name. Her tongue swiped across her bottom lip, and she looped her arms around Harry's neck. Daphne propped her chin up on Harry's shoulder.
"You never answered my question," Daphne breathed, breath tickling his neck. "Did they tell you about Draco?"
"Don't care about Hermione now?"
"Not particularly at the moment, she's your bossy friend."
"They told me me a few stories. They talk about Draco as if he is a completely different person…"
"What if he is?"
"What about you? What happens when they get back, and he's nothing like you remember?" Harry was truly curious. Everyone kept telling him to give Draco a chance, but he wondered what Draco's old friends would think of him now.
"Then I'll just have to figure him all over again." Daphne's voice was bursting with conviction as she spoke. Harry twirled his fingers in the end of her braid, the silky strands readily curling around his appendages. "I do enjoy a challenge."
"You are quite the witch," Harry laughed breathily.
"So I've been told."
"He might shite rainbows and be all nice and bubbly, what then?" Harry dared her.
Daphne ground her teeth, she was highly unimpressed by the question. "I would detest every second, but I would at least try."
Harry didn't argue with her, instead he asked, "do you think they'll come back soon?"
"No idea," Daphne replied honestly with a tepid shrug. Harry tangled his fingers in the silky fabric around her lower back. "What I do know is that we should move from our current position before we're caught."
Daphne crawled out of Harry's lap, and nimbly stood. She swirled on her heel, skirts swinging about her before bouncing against her ankles and settling in place. She held out a hand, he firmly took it with a faint smile, and she tugged him up.
Harry gathered his things, and presented himself before the Fat Lady—she'd awoken at some point during their conversation, and had eavesdropped with a piqued expression warping her oil paint. Aware that the attention was on her, she avoided eye contact and pretended as if she had been peeking at something across the way.
She primped her extravagant, layered hair, and cleared her throat. "You are out after curfew, Mister Potter."
"What else is new?" Harry smirked.
"Password?" Her shrill voice asked.
"Abraxan wings," Harry said.
"Really?"
"Having a bit of a magical creature's theme this week," Harry informed her. The witch tucked herself into his side as the portrait swung open. The Fat Lady protested vociferously and echoed after them as she realised that Daphne was joining him. The pair flew through the deadly silent Common Room and headed for the boy's dormitories.
The other boy's curtains were drawn, and the room was a graveyard, no motion or whisper of life aside from the sporadic snore that came from Neville's bed.
Daphne strolled into the space as if she owned it, chin high, hands clasped in front of her midsection. She made herself comfortable in Harry's four poster bed as he deposited his things in his trunk and readied himself for bed.
The witch was fast asleep under his covers with most of his pillows save one surrounding her when he returned from the bathroom. Harry climbed in beside her, careful not to jostle her as he sank into his bed. He dropped his glasses onto his bedside table, and with a low whisper he wandlessly placed locking and silencing charms on his dark curtains.
Harry laid flat on his back, one hand thrust over his head, the other thrumming across his abdomen. It had been an enlightening yet oppressive day with the deluge of information and stories that had been shared with him.
Tuckered out, it didn't take long for sleep to claim him, but before it trapped him in its web, Harry couldn't help but picture Draco's face. Hair as pale as snow, grey eyes, and a deep sneer marring his features.
Harry wouldn't be able to move past their shared history overnight, but he was trying to see Draco as they did. He was. At least, that's what he told himself.
This may sound odd, but I have had a few reviews where people tell me they download my story to read it offline etc. I do NOT want anyone downloading my story and sharing it with anyone. At all. If you wish to download a personal copy as I cannot stop you from doing that, then I am fine with that, but please, PLEASE, do not share it around or post it anywhere etc. Again, don't mind you having one for yourself, but other than that, I do NOT approve.