Summary: Harry had completed the single biggest task of his life: proposing to his muggleborn girlfriend, Hermione Granger. Originally, he'd thought that her acceptance would be the largest concern when considering matrimonial bliss. He soon realized her magic hating parents would be the real problem. Throw in a pair of fathers with a marauder's spirit and Harry was two sheets short of a horse race. Well, you know what they say about family and the holidays… Yeah. (There is not statute of secrecy in this story, at least not anymore).
This story is apart of the "Marauder's Advent" hosted by Frumpologist over on A03, but I wanted to have it here as well! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
Character Given to Write About: Harry Potter
Prompt:An Awkward Family Dinner
In the immortal words of Joshua Weissman, "So let's do this. Shall we?"
Being a tragic hero as a baby had not been the cure to Harry's fun loving personality; he still was very much an awkward fellow who was too prone to righteous mischief as was good for him. His two fathers, Sirius and Remus, had both insured and tempered that behavior in equal measure. So, when Muggleborn know it all princess, Hermione slapped him, Ronald Weasley and Draco Malfoy all within the same breath, Harry was both intrigued and considerably annoyed and determined to annoy her to absolutely no end if he could manage it And, he did.
However, with the second slap that Hermione had reserved solely for him, Harry was tenfold more intrigued than any other distempered emotion. Only Hermione Granger could blame him for saving the school from a maniacal, rogue death eater because his ill timed heroics just so happened to interrupt her oratorial debut in Arthimancy. Women.
Regardless, it was that third year slap that made him fall in love. Apparently he was just like his biological parent, James, when in pursuit of the swotty Lily Evans. According to his fathers', love at first slap or at first public beratement was the Potter way. Harry accepted his clear enjoyment of all things humiliatory and accepted that his forefathers too must have been a bit subby in the bedroom.
It was a wonderful, blissful life underneath the ultimate madame herself, Hermione Granger. Every look of annoyance like gold, every haughty sniff a revel and each too long look under her eyelashes a delicious torture. But now, that was all behind him. Harry Potter had finally acquired the love and dominance of the one he held most dear.
Everything was a song now. Or it should have been. Harry, as was his downfall, did not notice very much outside his own affairs or the affairs of those at dire risk. So, when he learned that Hermione's parents may not be as happy about the proposal as he was, Harry cursed.
Absolutely nothing ever worked out as it should. Love the girl. Get slapped. Saved the wizarding world. Get Rita Skeeter. Attempted a potion with Snape. Accidentally led love interest to set said professor's robes on fire. That sort of thing.
And now, he was informed that her parents were not only dentists but Secretary of State for National Heritage and the Secretary's husband respectively. And while the House of Commons was not directly rebuking witchcraft, it certainly wasn't singing its praises. With this being an election year, Secretary Granger admitting she had anything to do with witchcraft was political implosion.
They'd known Hermione was a witch and had only agreed to let her go to Hogwarts when Headmaster Dumbledore had agreed to change Hermione's last name and cast a mild confundus charm on anyone attempting to speak of the Secretary's daughter in the muggle world. The Grangers hadn't known what a big ask and insurmountable task that was.
Now, Harry had the Tri-wizardian level task of not only hiding all hints of magic from his life but also convincing his fathers to do the same for the sake of one dinner party where he could finally ask for Hermione's hand.
Simple.
There was loud shrieking coming from the attic. Harry cursed as he remembered what bloody day it was. A full moon the day after Christmas? Fucking perfect.
"Young Halfblood master is home early," Kreachered screeched with disdain. Harry was in no mood.
"Hello Kreacher. Why is Remus in the attic?. I specifically asked you not to put him there anymore."
Kreacher sneered as politely as he could, "Take it up with Master Sirius. Too many Messrs in the house for me to keep up with."
"What a cockspur," Harry thought.
"Harry, the light of my soul. How are you?" Sirius strode into the room with a long velvet robe draping the floor with only boxers to cover his modesty and firewhiskey to cover his words.
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, "For the love of- Sirius. Did you not even bother to read my owl?"
"I attempted. It was boring half way through. Come here to Daddy."
"Sirius"
"Come. to. Daddy." Harry shuffled over and allowed himself to be petted. It was the only way.
Another shriek from up above and the sound of delicates being slammed hard. A shriek. Walburga had been disturbed. "Why is Walburga's portrait upstairs? And why is Remus trapped in the attic again? I thought the experiments were downstaris."
"Moony's been a bit peckish today. Too close to the full moon and the dancers need to rehearse in the basement. Christmas show's coming up."
"Besides, Walburga enjoys the excitement," Sirius stage whispered.
"This is a bloody disaster." Harry whispered as he plopped into a dusty chair. Why did his fathers never bother to clean when he was away?
Sirius's silly expression only slightly dimmed as he sat next to his child. "Harry, what's happened?"
Harry scowled, before smiling brilliantly. He flexed his fingers before shaking them out in preparation, "I've asked Hermione to marry me and she's accepted."
Sirius smiled.
"Partially," Harry said. Sirius's smile widened and Harry knew the trouble would never cease.
Cutting the teasing off at legs before it started sprinting at full tilt, Harry added, "And, she refuses to fully accept until her parents agree."
The words were left unsaid, but were heard quite loudly. SIrius's mercurial nature flipped his teasing mood to a taciturn one. "And, you believe they won't accept you."
Harry rubbed the back of his neck and looked down despite that Remus had forbade him from being ashamed of himself. "Her mum's a big political figure keen on reelection. Supporting the wizarding agenda could crash her career."
At this, his refined father began prowling up and down the room like a caged predator. With his other father still crashing about above them, Harry felt like a lamb waiting to be devoured. All in all, a rather unpleasant sensation. Realizing laying inside a lion's mouth wasn't a whole lot different than inspecting the inside of it when things came down to it, Harry took the plunge.
"They're coming round for Christmas dinner, you remember. Thought that'd be as good a time as any to ask them. So, I was hoping we could pretend to be muggles just for a few hours."
The scowl his father sent his way could've tanned leather. "No. Absolutely not. I won't pretend to be someone I'm not for some prejudiced politicians. I've had enough of that in my own day. Besides, you know Remus is headlining later that night and we've lost our "Clara"."
"Sirius, please. It's one dinner and I'll help with the show; I'll even play Clara if I have too."
The pacing stopped and Sirius stared directly at him. "Starting a family based on deception is wrong. I know you know that." Harry, made of sterner stuff, stared right back.
"It's for Hermione." And that, was all that had to be said. A firm nod confirmed the deal.
"We'll do it my way then. I'll make the necessary preparations."
A cold sweat seeped under Harry's collar. "What does that mean, Sirius?" But the older man had shifted into his dog form to lick at Harry's palm before trotting away with a mild jaunt. Wiping his now wet hand, Harry began calling after Pads.
"WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?"
No response was given. Harry wasn't altogether surprised. Absolutely nothing ever went his way.
The most intriguing and yet most bizarre thing Harry had learned in the past 27.24 hours was that Kreacher was the youngest child of Coddle and Pokie and had 7 siblings who all happened to be very fussy and motherly lady elves. Harry had no idea the laws of physics allowed a living being's ears to be wrapped about one's head in punishment. But he'd learned it was possible when Kreacher addressed him as the "halfblood master' in front of his no nonsense mother and sisters. The whole situation explained a great deal about Kreacher and Harry really wanted to forget the whole affair and send them all back from whatever homes they'd come from.
That was until he'd seen what the ten of them had managed to accomplish. They'd somehow managed to move the front facade of Grimmauld to an empty lot in Chelsea while keeping the rest of the house in its normal location and thus still unplottable. The simple explanation Coddle gave him of the whole affair only made Harry's head hurt. The elves had also changed every speck of magic into innocuous, muggle looking items. How they knew what Muggle decor ought to look like was beyond him. They hadn't done a perfect job, but he assumed it was good enough for one family dinner.
Now, he was running through the house as Remus's shrieks had become more strained. His two dads had been using their combined intelligence along with a reluctant Severus Snape to create a modified wolfsbane potion. When they completed their research, this new potion that they were calling "Wolf's Anathema" would dampen the werewolf course considerably. Depending on the person's biology, it would either make all traces of the curse null or it would make the curse's effects so low that the afflicted would crave raw meat and be a bit aggressive or ornery on a daily basis. Sirius said at worst the person would act a bit like old Filch or Snape, which did not endear Severus at all to his father. Not that anything really had.
The potion trials were in their final stages with Remus taking daily doses under Sirius's and Snape's watchful eye to monitor behavioral changes, dosing amounts and appetite fluctuations. It was tiring and dangerous work. His feet had found him chasing his father's voice before he even realized he was moving. Harry had burst into the room and only mildly heard calls of alarm from Snape before Remus had scratched across Harry's sternum leaving five distinct trail marks across his skin.
"I find myself unsurprised by your stupidity." Snape's voice slithered to him from across the room.
Strong arms pulled Harry back from an anguished Remus, who'd come back to lucidity after injuring his child. He heard Sirius's trembling voice starting to whisper incantations. Suddenly, Snape's voice called for Sirius's wand and hindering any healing spells that Sirius might have uttered.
"Stop at once, Black. While it may be poor timing on the boy's part, this is perfect for our research. We needed to test the potency of Remus's transmission rates regardless. Potter's just volunteered as our first human trial." Harry, still dazed, looked over at his positively gleeful former instructor.
Twin cries of alarm and fury rose up from his fathers, but Snape held up a hand to them both and looked directly at Harry. "What are you trying to discover? He can't infect me without the full moon."
"Our potion blurs the lines between beast and man permanently; allowing the person to live a more stable life. In a way, they'll always be contagious, but with the drug it won't much matter; f they aren't able to pass it on. Besides, even if we healed you, it wouldn't stop the infection if you were going to get one."
Sighing and accepting that nothing would ever go well, Harry acquiesced, "So leave the wound open so you can study how it heals? I'm not keen on a scar."
"I know a few advanced if a bit gray spells that'll clear that right up." Sirius offered, apparently suddenly keen on the idea.
Gritting his teeth, "Sure."
And so, that was how a werewolf, an animagus, a Snape (which came with its own warning), a teenaged witch, a dentist, a political leader and a disfigured and increasingly annoyed world savior came together for Christmas dinner.
With ten psychotic elves attending to them.
And, a gay wizard club catering to all magical creatures having an exhibition happening in the basement.
It went about as well as one would imagine.
The first course was a lovely soup ladled into steaming porcelain bowls. It was a thick, rich parsnip and apple soup with blue cheese crouton crumbles peppering the top. Secretary Granger exclaimed it was delightful and politely inquired after the family's personal chef. Sirius, already on his second goblet of elf wine winked at the woman and lewdly responded that he'd be more than happy to show her how to cut parsnips if it'd be at all helpful. Mr. Granger, oddly, was not amused.
Remus, with a strained smile, attempted to move the conversation on to safer subjects. "Mr. Granger, I heard from Harry that you have a successful dentistry practice in Hampstead. That must be a very rewarding career."
Blushing lightly, Mr. Granger smiled brightly, "Please do call me, Richard. And, it's very rewarding. I tell Helen all the time that I've been in more mouths than the Queen has gold. Nearly 20 years, you know."
Harry, knowing SiIrius as he did, immediately kicked his father under the table. Clearly, Remus, who knew him even better, kicked Sirius at the exact same moment. A rather canine like yelp came from the man's mouth as he glared at his husband and son. Secretary Granger, now fully besotted with the unbelievable rake, voiced her alarm.
"My dear Lord Black, are you quite all right?" To his credit, the slow, sensual smile that parted his lips was only half as potent as it had the potential to be, before indicating that he was perfectly fine. Hermione, also knowing Sirius, looked at Harry in alarm. Harry merely shrugged. If Hermione was to be part of this family, she might as well get the trial by fire out of the way now. It'd certainly hurt less in the long run.
The roaring fireplace that was all together too perfect to be natural caused a soft sheen of sweat to dapple at Sirius's temples giving him an even more debonair appearance, while making every other male in the room simply look unattractively sweaty. Sirius delicately patted at his fevered lip in torturously long movements that Secretary Granger tracked with hawklike precision.
"Madame Secretary, let us dispense with titles. None of that "Lord Black" business. Mr. Black is perfectly suitable. Besides, we're almost family."
"Sirius!" Harry and Hermione exclaimed at the same time. This was not how Harry had planned to introduce the topic.
"What did you mean by that?" Mr. Granger asked with a knitted brow.
"Yes, what did you mean by that Black?" Snape asked while sneering into his crystal goblet clearly having been drinking too much elf wine. Remus just shook his head and slurped quietly on his soup.
"Turn of phrase. It's the holidays. Isn't the entire human race one large family? No matter the race or creed?"
"What a lovely sentiment, Sirius," Hermione interrupted quickly.
Secretary Granger hissed, "It's Mr. Black , Hermione."
"Oh, bloody hell," Harry said.
Sirius gave him a look that almost had him squirming in his seat.
"I apologize on behalf of my child." They said at the same time. Before Sirius raised a tailored eyebrow and Helen looked away, making Mr. Granger's face flush so bright, he resembled a Christmas decoration, and Remus looking murderous simultaneously.
"You know, Helen. You're a lovely woman."
"Why Mr. Bl-"
"See here you, scoun-"
" For our second course, we have roast pheasant legs in an orange peel reduction. With microgreens." A small child interrupted in order to announce the next chapter in the meal.
Harry assumed said child was Coddle, as the elves had all disguised themselves as small children with large ears in order to interact with the Grangers much to Harry's annoyance.
"You know, I'm curious about the children in your employ. A bit dodgy, if you don't mind my saying so. We are all family after all. " And, now the knives were out.
"Coddle's not a child. He's 200 years old," Harry burst out without meaning to. Hermione looked on the verge of conniption.
Secretary Granger looked alarmed at Harry's obviously deteriorating mental state and Sirius looked unsurprisingly joyus.
"It's rather warm in here," said Remus, "I can say we've beat the cold out of the place. I'll kill the fire."
"Let me do it master," Coddle cried in horror.
"Master?" exclaimed the Secretary.
A gleefully evil chuckle broke up the momentum. "Coddle, perhaps more wine for myself and Miss Granger." simpered Snape. Simpered!
All five other table members said, "I'll take another as well," at the same time. A tense laugh filled the room.
Coddle looked delighted as his wife and Kreacher swarmed out to start refilling goblets. They all still appeared as small children, but luckily the Grangers merely looked affronted rather than appalled. It was the little things that made life worth living, Harry noted.
The entire party took delicately large sips from the goblets and Harry only realized then that elf wine had been served to everyone including the muggles. Harry attempted to slip into Hermione's mind to give her a heads up, but apparently only managed to look ridiculous if Hermione's angry face was any indication.
The pheasant was lovely and even Mr. Granger was finally smiling. Hermione's mum and Sirius had went back to their respective corners- thank Merlin- and Remus was doing a lovely job of providing light dinner conversation. Harry felt that finally it was time to reveal the true meaning of this dinner.
He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his seat, "Secretary Granger and Mr. Granger, I'd like to thank you all for coming to our home this evening. I've enjoyed getting to know you all better and I hope you've enjoyed your time as well." Harry was not very good at public speaking and spoke to the grandfather clock behind the Grangers's heads as opposed to looking anyone in the eye. From the corner of his vision, he saw violent headshaking from both his parents, but ignored them in favor of the spindles on the clock.
"I knew I loved your daughter from the moment she hit me on the quidditch pitch. Not only do I love her, but I've grown in awe of her intellect, grace, loyalty and determination. I've asked her to be my wife and with your approval, I believe she'll accept."
A small, genuine smile appeared on Secretary Granger's face, "That was truly lovely, Harry. Hermione's already told us. And, while I do believe marriage at 18 is absurd, we enjoyed hearing your kind words."
Harry sat back in stunned silence. Mindlessly, he began scratching at his wounds that had been burning all evening. Hermione made a tiny whimper as she stared at him with tears in her eyes. "But, I-"
Mr. Granger, not content to let his wife have the last word, said, "My little girl is going to make something of herself. She had her fun playing with sticks and magic, but we've indulged her long enough. Had a devil of a time enrolling her into Oxford with only some make believe boarding school on her record, but Helen pulled a few strings. She doesn't have time to be caught up with some gallivanting Lord's bastard son. A lord I've never heard of by the way. I checked and no one's heard of a Lord Sirius Black. Whole evening is rather suspicious if I must say so."
"Daddy!"
"Richard!"
Looking wounded by the lack of support, Mr. Granger said, "Well, Mr. Lupin clearly isn't the mother."
Remus spoke through clenched teeth and Harry could almost feel his father's lupine nature roaring because Harry felt a bit wolfish himself, "Perhaps, this conversation should be continued at another time."
The silence in the room was a snapped wire hitting the ground and making sparks on the ground. It escaped Harry's mind that if anyone was a living live wire, it was Sirius Black.
A snap of his long, elegant fingers and the poultry course in front of them vanished into the thin air, before a roasted, honey glazed ham appeared in the center of the beautifully decorated table. The Grangers's startled sounds broke the remaining silence. Sirius sniffed softly and examined his perfectly manicured nails, "I am nothing if not a proper host and I would not dream of hoisting you lot out of my home even if the mood did strike me. Dinner is served." The words were said in hushed, measured tones and Remus spit out a harsh rebuke before being silenced by Sirius's steel born eyes.
"I knew there was something bizarre happening here; you're all wizards! Harry isn't a muggle born like you! Helen, we are leaving this instant! And, Hermione, we're going to be having a long chat, young lady!"
Feeling the negatively charged air in the room strong enough to turn mistletoe into hemlock, The Grangers attempted to rise from their seats, only to discover they were stuck to their chairs. Sirius grinned but it was wonky and off putting. "I insist you stay."
"Let them go this instant," Hermione shrieked as she madly swung her wand about trying to figure out how to free her scared parents.
Seeming to consider it, Sirius shook his head lightly. "I don't think I will. They've insulted me and more importantly, they've insulted Harry and Lily and Prongs. My son is not a bastard, but the child of two of my closest friends who died valiantly as soldiers in a stupid, prejudiced war. And, I've allowed two prejudiced politicians in my home spouting the same nonsense. The charade is over." And with a wave of his hand, the true wizarding home was revealed.
Harry found himself wanting to shed his very skin and tear something apart. Looking over at Remus, he decided the feeling was relative. The Grangers' fear changed to fury and Hermione appeared enraged in a way that Harry found quite sexy if he were honest, but attempted to put it out of mind. A stiff member at the dinner could make the situation marginally worse than it already was.
"And at this point, I'm not sure I want your daughter marrying my son. Making him put on this charade and for what?" Remus added in for the good of the group.
Kreacher, having realized the jig was up, shuffled into the room in his normal form, and croaked, "Would the master prefer cranberry sauce with the ham or another orange sauce?" Hermione's parents had apparently never seen house elves before, and began yelling at a new pitch. Frustrated, his girlfriend began yelling at her parents that she'd described house elves in detail to them years ago and could they please not be so damned rude?
Snape, having been largely quiet the entire meal, spoke yet again, "I wonder how being the first candidate to openly support the billion or so wizards about the world would help your campaign? If I remember correctly, being the candidate on the correct side of history, certainly helped Atlee back in the 50's."
For the second time that evening, the room was entirely quiet. Snape continued, "Despite never wanting to agree with anything Black has ever said, you all have been quite rude this evening. Hermione Granger disavowing her wizarding power would be the greatest waste of natural reserves in a century. And if you believe that he'll let her go once he's set his sights on her, you don't know a damned thing about Harry Potter. After all, he's been silently suffering from deep werewolf wounds whilst trying to impress you. The knob."
Apparently only hearing half of what was said, Mr. Granger responded, "Werewolves? Who said anything about werewolves?"
Secretary Granger laid a hand on her sputtering husband's wrist, "Hush Richard; I want to hear more about my campaign from Professor Snape was it?"
Curling his lip at the woman, Snape drawled, "Madame, my usual services hardly come free let alone my astute political advice."
Smiling like a cat, Mrs. Granger whispered something to Snape that made the man smile in return. Harry didn't need Remus's hearing to know it wasn't something he wanted to know about.
Harry found himself being frantically smothered by Hermione as she demanded to see his injuries. He heard a snicker coming from the other side of the table and saw both his fathers looking incredibly amused and slightly put out respectively.
Perhaps, sometimes things did work out for Harry Potter.
Suddenly, Ronald Weasley dressed like the Sugar Plum Fairy burst through the basement door flooding the previously silence spelled room with the cacophony of trumpets, human feet, centaur hooves, goblin shrieks, and electric beats and yelled, "The crowds getting restless! We need to start the play before the centaurs riot. They already boo'd Luna and the Tantrums off the stage!"
"C'mon Moony and Harry time to get changed. Places everyone!"
"What's going on now?" Mr. Granger yelled in exasperation.
Now it was Harry's turn to grin evilly, "Say Richard, can I call you Richard? My dads run a gay wizard club called "The Dog Star" in the basement. We're putting on our annual Christmas play and we could use another Nutcracker. What do you say?"
Secretary Granger answered for him, "He'd be glad to especially if there'll be pictures to leak to the papers. My new political strategist says we need all the press we can get."
At this Hermione piped up, "On one condition Mum. Only if you'll give Harry and me your blessing."
Mrs. Granger smiled tightly, but nodded. Harry and Hermione kissed and finally the aching on his skin didn't hurt so badly.
"Marvelous," Snape sneered, "Now that I've secured Potter's love life and the Secretary's reelection campaign is in hand, can you all vacate the room so I can examine Potter for my potion? Or must I do that too?"
"Surely that can wait until after the play, Fairy Godmother Severus?" Sirius grinned. Snape sneered but swept downstairs without comment.
Everyone filed downstairs leaving Sirius, Remus and Harry upstairs to get changed.
"That was an unmitigated disaster." Harry laughed as he rewrapped his wounds and allowed Kreacher to change him into his character.
"Was it?" grinned Sirius, "I thought it went rather well all things considered."
"Must say Pads," Remus began as he quickly changed with Coddle's help, "That table display was even better than we practiced."
"Dear Gods, you planned this." Harry whispered. His two fathers grinned.
"Anything for Hermione," they both intoned.
And that was how a werewolf, an animagus, a Snape (Potions genius cum Political Advisor), a teenaged witch, a dentist, a political leader and a Harry dressed as a Clara came to be in a wizarding production of the "Nutcracker" in a gay club. In the basement of Grimmauld Place.
The End.
Inspired by "The Birdcage" if you didn't notice already. And before you ask, I don't hate the Grangers nor is this a bashing story...I actually quite like them as an idea, but messed with them for my purposes. Just a very silly little thing to get us all through the holidays!
This bad boy is unbeta'd and uncensored so I apologize belatedly for that! Funny story, I had a whole 8 page story written for this advent and realized two days ago it wasn't going to work for my prompt (pro tip- always re-read your prompt before writing a story months after agreeing to be in fest and don't just start writing on memory of said prompt because it won't remotely resemble the ACTUAL prompt you were given), so I cranked out this baby in 24 hours...so...yeah. You get what I'm trying to say. Cheers, everybody!