Lars was a bit busy sketching one of the manor's owls, Emperor, when one of the manor's house-elves appeared beside him. It certainly did result him in making an unwanted line across the page of the paper he was using. He almost snapped at the house-elf for interrupting him. Didn't it know how hard it was for him to concentrate that long? And now he would need to redo the sketch.
"What do you want?" he asked the house-elf irately.
"Master Sirius is wanting Master Lawrence in study," the house-elf answered.
"What for?"
"Master not saying."
"Fine, I'll be down in a bit." The house-elf immediately disappeared afterwards.
Lars stood up from his chair and proceeded to let Emperor out of the window. The poor thing had been cooped up in his room for too long. He had taken a liking on sketching these days. It wasn't so much of a bore as doing his homework. Of course, he'd do that later on. He would still have enough time for doing his schoolwork. He just preferred doing sketches at the moment.
Putting on his shoes, he exited his room and went downstairs. As he got near Sirius' study, he heard another person's voice from the other side. Without knocking, he opened the door. Sirius immediately gave him a disapproving look but he'd gotten preoccupied by his brother's presence.
"What are you doing here?" he had blurted out when he saw Midas and Harry.
Lars looked expectantly at his brother, looking for a sign of apology or just a small conscientious look. Disappointingly, Harry just gave him a blank look. It was hurtfully unemotional. Midas smiled at him though so he found it in himself to smile a bit.
"Good afternoon Lars," greeted Midas, waving a greeting at him before leaning to the right to whisper to Harry. Lars was about to take a seat beside Sirius when Harry stood up and walk right past him. He then glanced at Sirius who told him to wait outside for a moment whilst he and Mr. McGregor talk.
Harry and him stayed by the stairs, seating at separate levels, with him being on the lower one. There really was nothing but silence between them. Lars rather hoped that they could hear what Midas and Sirius were speaking about but no sound came from Sirius' study. They had probably put up some privacy charm to prevent them from eavesdropping.
As time progressed, Lars began feeling rather unnerved by the silence. He considered going to his room but he didn't want to leave his brother, and Sirius would likely call for him again. Sighing, he resolved opening up a conversation.
"So, what are they talking about?" he asked, looking up at Harry. His brother looked down to face him, regarding him with a somewhat sharp look before snapping the book shut and then placing it aside. Harry stood up and sat on the same level as he. As Harry sat down, it registered to Lars that his brother's eyes looked somewhat yellowish green instead of its normal darkly glistening shade of emerald green. Ah well, Lars disregarded the observation as effects of the light.
"They….are talking about a trip."
"A trip?" he questioned, probably sounding a bit dumb since Harry sneered slightly.
"Yes Lawrence a trip," said Harry, sounding rather irked at the repetition. Then again, Harry had always been irascible as hell, getting irked at the simplest of things.
"Where to?"
"France." Lars was about to ask another question when Harry raised a hand to silence him. "Before I tell you the details, I want to apologise first."
Lars blinked a bit. "Apologise?" he asked, incredulously.
"Yes, Lawrence, apologise," said Harry pointedly before taking a deep sigh. "Look, I'm always vehement of my ideas. I stand firm on my decisions and my belief. But," Harry paused to shrug, "it doesn't make my hateful sounding and harshly accusatory words to you warranted or justified."
Lars blinked again. "That's your apology?" he said without actually meaning to. Well said but still bollocks, he thought amusedly. It was rather surprising actually since he didn't expect his brother to apologise. He was hoping but not quite expecting. He thought his brother would never have it in him to lower his pride and practically apologise for his beliefs.
"No Lawrence I just wanted to say that," Harry said with a deadpan expression, words laced with evident sarcasm and annoyance.
"And don't get me wrong" added Harry, "I'm apologising for my words not for what I believe in." Lars mentally huffed. The lowered pride just went flying out of the window.
Without really much of a second thought, Lars shrugged and said "Apology accepted, brother." whilst grinning at the said brother who still looked as stiff and unemotional as a bloody monolith. "I'm so-"
"Don't apologise." Harry had cut him off rather sharply. "Just don't." Acquiescing to his brother, he just nodded and didn't continue his part of the apology. He was intrigued by his brother's avoidance of hearing an apology from him. Harry would likely not tell him why.
"Ok, so the trip you were speaking about?" he asked before they lapsed into another bout of silence.
"Yes, Midas is asking Sirius's permission for you to go to France." said Harry before asking him if he had been there before. Well he had been there before, once. There was some seminar for the Aurors in a castle that Lars had no idea what the name was. But, to summarise his experience in that particular event, he was as bored as hell that he could've set the whole castle on fire. And he almost did set ablaze one of the castle halls.
"Once," he told his brother. "But I don't really know the exact name of the place."
"Paris is where we're going," Harry mentioned before going into detail that they would be going to the Louvre museum on their birthday.
Lars frowned a bit. "We're going to see paintings?" he questioned, not all that fond at the thought of spending time looking at paintings. He liked drawing but he didn't like staring at paintings and drawings for long periods of time and then wondering about what on Earth the artist was feeling whilst he worked.
"Not just simple paintings, Lawrence," said his brother, sounding passionate, "works of art that made history." It was definitely passion that he heard in his brother's voice, nearly the same passion whenever Potions came up as the topic of their conversation.
"Ok granted," conceded Lars. "So, can I bring other people?"
"If you like, yes." Lars smiled. The painting-staring thing aside, he thought the trip would be brilliant. It would be his first birthday out of town too. Normally, he would celebrate in the manor. Being out of town would definitely be change.
"Hang on," a thought suddenly came into his mind, "is the fat dullard going to come along?" Lars still hadn't forgiven the fact that Dudley bossed him around last summer and didn't even have the decency to apologise. How Harry and Ethan tolerated the fat arsed muggleborn cousin of theirs was beyond him.
Harry shrugged. "If he wants to he may." Lars frowned. It wasn't exactly a negative answer. He thought that the trip would be unbearable should Dudley along. He really didn't like that fat git, not at all. He didn't give a damn that the muggleborn was their cousin. He didn't understand it as well that his twin brother seemed to prefer that their cousin was close by.
"No fighting Lawrence," said Harry out of the blue. "I don't want you and him getting into some fight should he come along." Lars rolled his eyes. Like Harry, he wasn't one to start fights.
"Yeah, why not?" he said half-heartedly.
"Your word, Lawrence."
"My word that?" he responded rather intransigently before sighing resignedly at his brother's snake-like look darted at him that had always, even if he wouldn't admit it, terrified him.
"Oh bloody hell fine," he said dramatically, "I'm not going to get into any fight with that fat dullard. But if he starts anything, I'll retaliate. Also if he's going to come along, I want him to apologise for bossing me around last year."
"I'll give the message, Lawrence," promised Harry, or at least it sounded like it. "Rest assured he will not start a fight of any kind."
"How many can I bring?" he inquired.
"As much as you'd like to, I think," answered Harry.
"You're not thinking of bringing all your little friends, are you?" asked Harry, eyes narrowed. Harry was clearly averse to the idea of having too many people on their birthday. Lars knew for a fact that his older twin had a strong dislike of being around other or many people, or just people for that matter within a huge amount of time.
"Nope," he replied, assuring Harry. Bringing too much people would be overstepping the boundaries. "Just the usual crowd. You're taking Theo and Draco, I take it."
Harry nodded. "If their parents allow it, yes," said his brother.
Lars thought for a moment. It was most definite that Mr. Malfoy will allow Draco to come along, what with Harry being there and all. But with Theo, he was not so sure. Nott Sr. was evil, plainly, purely, unadulterated evil.
"What about Greengrass?" he asked. She was Harry's friend as well and that it would be less awkward if there would also be another girl besides Hermione. Harry's eyes furrowed so he elaborated. "She's your friend, right? You should invite her."
Harry's mouth opened then closed. Lars counted that Harry did it around two times. "I do not know if she'd want to," his brother finally responded. Rather lamely, in Lars' opinion. The reason wasn't something he thought Harry would give.
"Did you ask her?"
"No."
Lars opened his mouth before snapping it shut again. "Well," he said after opening it again, "how are you-"
"Yes Lawrence," interrupted Harry whilst taking out a book once more, "I'm perfectly aware that I won't know the answer unless I ask her." Lars rolled his eyes at his brother. Daphne Greengrass was definitely a topic that would slightly unsettle his brother. And it was a topic that Lars would definitely bring up in the future.
"How is it you hate people interrupting you yet you do the same?" he asked, mildly annoyed. "Really brother mine, haven't you heard the golden rule?"
"The golden rule is that there are no golden rules," retorted Harry, in the usual arrogant smart arse way of his. Lars just huffed and scowled. How typical of Harry, always having an answer for everything, not ever wanting anyone but him to have the last word.
"Maxims for Revolutionists, Lawrence," said Harry, confusing him even further. Maxims for Revolutionists? Lars thought, getting a ridiculous idea that Harry was planning a revolution in the Wizarding world that would, consequently, get rid of the ones in the government. It was actually a pretty sound idea. Harry was brilliant, and many in the ministry –including the minister himself, were a bunch of nitwits. His brother might even make him deputy.
For a few seconds, they stared at each other, with Lars still imagining that Harry would overthrow the Ministry and the Wizengamot and then take over Wizarding Britain, and probably the whole world afterwards.
"Maxims for revolutionists?" he asked. "What are you, a bleeding freedom fighter?"
In response, Harry blinked before narrowing those green eyes of his, and then tonelessly just said "never mind," before going back to the book that has no title on the cover.
Lars opened his mouth to ask what Harry meant but then the door of Sirius' study opened and out came in strides was Midas.
As Midas was about to reach Harry, the man suddenly halted and turned like a soldier, and spoke coldly. "I do hope you make good of what we've talked about Mr. Black." Lars could see the sudden change in the Scotsman's air. Evidently there was some topic of conversation that Midas did not appreciate at all. Lars turned his eyes from Midas to Sirius who was just there, standing by the door of the study looking serious, no pun intended.
"Let's go, sonny," said Midas and Harry immediately followed after bidding him and Sirius goodbye. If the situation wasn't heavy, he'd have sniggered at his brother being referred to as 'sonny'. It was definitely something he didn't know.
"Uhm, so am I allowed to go?" he asked Sirius once Harry and Midas left, surprisingly through the front door and not the fireplace.
"Yes," responded Sirius curtly as they both entered the study.
"What'd you two talk about?" he asked conversationally. "Mr. McGregor seemed cross about something, don't you think?" And that in itself was weird. Midas McGregor was an apparently cheerful man and was anything but cold during the times they had seen each other. He always smiled and was very friendly.
"It's not for you to know Lawrence." Lars' eyes furrowed. Never ever had Sirius talked to him with a tone that clearly implied 'sod the hell off'.
"You informed Harry that you've been invited to Longbottom Manor on the 30th, I gather?"
"Oh. I-" he paused, chuckling nervously. "I forgot to tell Harry about that." And he really did. He was too caught up with processing in his mind that Harry apologised and planned to celebrate their birthday abroad.
"Clearly," muttered Sirius, looking rather absentminded whilst searching through some papers scattered about the wooden table.
Lars frowned, there clearly was something wrong and it was about what Sirius and Midas talked about earlier. "Uhm, uncle Sirius, is something wrong?"
"None," answered uncle Sirius crisply. "Your trip to Longbottom manor has been cancelled. The celebration will be in tie with yours and Harry's. On the 29th, you all will be staying with Harry and Midas in wherever they are staying."
"Aren't you going with us?" he asked with a frown. "And what about uncle Remus?"
"I have a lot of work to do with the other Aurors," Sirius stated flatly, no hint of saying 'sorry I can't come to your birthday' or anything of the sort. "I am needed in the office. And Remus, I've not the faintest where he is at the moment so most likely not. Your godfather hasn't sent a word for over 2 weeks." Lars suddenly grew worried. Normally, Remus would at least send a message once or twice during the week or weeks he'd be out dealing with his furry little problem.
"You can leave," said Sirius dismissively. Like a soldier ordered to sod off, Lars stood up and marched out of his uncle's study and then ran off to his room to talk to someone.
"Gryffindor and Slytherin, lines that both I'm in." There really was no one to talk to outside the halls of Sirius' manor except Ethan or Harry whom he had identical mirrors. His boundaries still stood. He was not allowed to send missives to people, and he was absolutely NOT allowed to get out of the manor, not even to play Quiditch or just fly his broomstick, if he wasn't with an adult wizard. He wasn't a complete dunce, contrary to popular belief, he knew something was up. He just couldn't be arsed to prod about it. He could already get into trouble without looking for it. And he frankly had had enough for the year.
"Ethan," he called to the mirror. "Hey little bruv, you there?" Lars counted. He waited a whole five minutes before Ethan's face replaced the posh chandelier that was being shown at the mirror.
"Oh hello other older bro!" greeted Ethan enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear, as usual. "Wazzup?"
"The ceiling?" he answered with a bored tone. "That fat dullard, is he going to come along?"
"Big D?" questioned Ethan. "Yeah, o'course he is."
Lars blinked before narrowing his eyes at Ethan. "You call him...'Big D'," he drawled incredulously. "You actually call that fat dullard with sweaty dew flaps 'Big D'." Lars was aware that Ethan and their fat arse of a cousin got along well, but not that well so as for Ethan to talk like they were tight.
"Dude, don't drawl," said Ethan with a serious look on his face. "Really don't. You sound like Harry when you do."
"Whatever," he said with a roll of his eyes. "How the bloody hell do you get along with that guy?"
"He's not that bad dude, really." Naturally, Lars had to huff at that.
"Let me be the judge of that," he said to Ethan with a sneer. "Anyway, to another topic that is more pleasant than the current-" Lars was immediately cut off by Ethan who said 'No' repeatedly in a dramatic way.
"You just not simply get to talk like Harry!" said Ethan quite dramatically that Lars again rolled his eyes. "It's creepy. One Harry brother really is enough." Lars didn't take it as a compliment to be compared to his twin when talking. He spoke and acted way too nicely compared to his twin brother. Harry wouldn't know how to use euphemism even if his life depended on it.
"Whatever, alright?" scoffed Lars.
"Peace bro," said Ethan, grinning whilst showing him a peace sign. "Just give it a chance, he's not that bad."
Lars sighed, deeply. "Again, Ethan, let me be the judge of that." He said no more on the topic about Dudley. Whilst Harry was blunt and straightforward to the point of indifference to everyone, including him and Ethan, Lars was not so keen on saying harsh words to people who were close to him.
"Alright, alright chill."
"Chill?"
"Yeah, Lion-o, relax." He didn't know what a 'Lion-o' was but he'd gotten the Gryffindor lion reference.
"Hey, what's the Maxim for Revolutionists?" he questioned out of interest, suddenly remembering Harry's mention of it earlier. "Harry's not planning some sort of coup, is he?"
Ethan waved a dismissive hand. "Just a book by G.B.S.," the boy said. "Harry likes reading it."
Lars sighed. "So I gather," he drawled drily. "Who's G.B.S?"
"George Bernard Shaw," Ethan answered. "He's one of Harry's favourite authors. –say, are you gonna go with us or not because Big D is there?"
Lars huffed. "You and Harry will be there," he pointed out, "of course I'll go even if the fat dullard's there."
"Okaaay," Ethan said with a sing-song voice before saying that he might get to meet Philip
"He's Midas' best friend," added Ethan, "odd dude but likeable enough."
Lars and Ethan talked a bit more about the trip and all and the people they would bring. Luke, Merlin bless that brilliant chap, would be present, as usual. There would also be some wizard kid name Mark who was Harry's neighbour in Privet Drive.
As agreed, Lars was to stay with Harry starting on the 29th. Midas hired a neat looking place somewhere in London. Harry called it a hotel and corrected him that Midas wasn't the one who hired it. It turned out that he wasn't the only one who would be staying with Harry on that day in the hired place. Theo and Draco were already there, as were Greengrass, Luke, the fat dullard and the Mark kid. To his surprise, though, Midas had already taken the liberty of fetching Ron, Hermione, and Neville so, in a sense, they were already complete.
Lars liked the Mark boy. He was cheerful, very friendly, and agreeable. It was a wonder Harry tolerated the boy at all. He didn't figure Harry would be the type to hang around boisterous people, except him and Theo, and occasionally Draco.
On that same night, he'd met his cousin alone by the hallway. He was dutifully ignoring his cousin the whole day since the fat oaf didn't even look like he had an intention to apologise. Though surprisingly enough, the fat oaf was the one who approached him.
"Lawrence….cousin…" Dudley began stammering after that. "Uhm…well…uh…"
Lars crossed his arms and looked sharply at his cousin. "What?"
"I apologise for what I did and said last summer," said Dursley hurriedly. "It was rude of me and highly uncalled for." Lars managed to grin wryly at his cousin's apology. The wording seemed Harry-ish.
"Harry didn't write that for you to say, did he?" Dursley managed to get the jest by smirking and answering negatively.
"I'm really sorry," Dursley said again, extending a hand. "Dudley Evans Dursley."
Lars nodded and shook his cousin's hand. "Lawrence Charlus Potter." The pair of them was quite amicable afterwards. Dudley also apologised to Theo. Theo looked like he wanted not to accept the apology but acquiesced anyway and was reasonably friendly with Dudley. Though, Lars wouldn't be surprised if Theo was only acting as such because of Dudley's position as their cousin. They had all been fooled by Theo harbouring distrust on Draco during the last school year.
They stayed in the hired place for less than twenty-four hours. Within those hours, they just played around, or well most of them. Whilst most of them played, Harry, Hermione, and Greengrass just sat around in a corner reading books. Though, it was mostly Harry and Daphne who were quite near each other. Occasionally, Theo and he would exchange knowing looks after glancing at Greengrass and Harry. Lars mentally smirked. Harry so fancied Daphne. Someone would have to be blind not to see it. It was practically written on Harry's face.
"You know they're looking at us," Daphne said to Harry conversationally whilst they were leaning at each other's back, eyes on their respective books.
Harry heaved a sigh. "And?" he questioned, uninterested at his brother and Theo's pitiful attempt at subtle observation. Daphne laughed and playfully budged away from him, making him fall on his back.
"Very mature, Ms. Greengrass," Harry said drily, opting to lean on the wall instead. "They're looking at us and what do you suppose, I do? Poke their eyes out, perhaps?" Daphne laughed and lightly pushed him. Scowling good naturedly, he also pushed her and then all the pushing turned into a pillow fight between all of them in the room.
"Attack!" Luke yelled when Midas suddenly entered the room and stared for a minute at the chaos that ensued. Naturally, everyone was still hesitant since Midas was the adult in the room and there was still a line somewhere. Realising that no one would actually throw a pillow or anything in particular at Midas, Harry took it upon his self to do so. He grabbed a pillow from Daphne and threw it across the room, hitting Midas right on the face.
"Don't be a spoilsport dad," The words came out of his mouth without really much of a thought.
Midas smirked, picking up the pillow from the ground and closing the door. "You're one to talk, sonny boy," said Midas before throwing the pillow at Ethan who then threw it Luke and so on and so forth. Least to say, the little pillow war with Midas in the room lasted for around ten minutes before someone unceremoniously opened the door.
And that someone, as it turned out, was an annoyed looking Philip.
"Will you people quiet down?" said Philip tersely. No one in the room, not even Midas, had made a response when Philip exited the room as unceremoniously as he entered. Harry rolled his eyes. And people thought he was the epitome of killjoy.
"That's all for tonight, laddies and lassies," Midas declared cheerfully. "We don't want that grumpy old bugger go on a mental rage."
"Who the bloody hell was he?" Harry huffed at Weasley's question.
"As always, Weasley, your tactlessness is appreciated." Midas sent him a glare as soon as he gave out the comment. He just shrugged noncommittally. Weasley really should learn how to hold his tongue for it will get him into trouble. One might not be certain who they were referring to.
"You'd do well to hold your tongue in certain situations, Ronald," Midas said with a kind tone to the red-head who thankfully had enough decency to look ashamed. "There are situations wherein insolent tones, meant or not meant to, are not tolerated by certain people."
"You'd be spending an eternity in uncle Phil's bad book too had he heard you," Ethan added, quite correctly so. Philip hated and rarely tolerated people who were rude. The man was sort of like Hannibal Lecter in that respect, bar the serial killing and cannibalistic attitude. However, a stupid part on the man's personality was the said man's tendency to just absorb any rudeness or disrespect towards him when his elders were the one doing the disrespectful act. It was a big contradiction for Harry. He personally wouldn't care if the person was older or younger than him. If they were acting like arses to him, to hell with age barrier.
"Quite right." Midas looked at the clock and Harry did so as well. It was around half past twelve in the morning. It was way, way past their bedtime but Midas didn't seem to be bothered by that fact, in fact the man even smiled, a smile directed behind them and to Neville.
"I believe it's already the 30th." said Midas, before taking out his wand. "On count of 3, children, I want you all to sing for Neville, okay?" And so they did before Midas even started counting. Theo started the singing, of course, whilst they all just followed. When the song ended, Midas flicked his wand and part confetti's popped out in the whole room.
"T-thanks." The scion of the House of Longbottom said shyly and awkwardly with a smile.
"No problem!" a grinning Midas answered. "It's your birthday for the whole day, you get to pick where we go when we reach Paris."
Harry just stayed silent whilst Neville spoke with Midas. He didn't know why Neville was with them. He had no bad blood with the Longbottom scion but he just found it weird that Neville was celebrating his birthday with them instead of his grandmother, and also the fact that his grandmother actually allowed it. But then, he remembered that Neville had always been invited during Lars' birthday party in Potter Mansion and also the other way about.
"You could at least endeavour to look cheerful, Harry," said a voice from behind him, a voice belonging to none other than Luke.
"Would you look cheerful if I tie you up and leave you to die by being cut in half by a chainsaw?" he asked drily, to which Luke chuckled and replied "No, but then that's not what's happening to you."
"Might as well be," he grumbled, throwing his arms up in the air afterwards. "I don't know why we can't just head to the museum."
"Or," he dragged out the 'r', "they can stay here and I'll go to the museum by myself." As soon as he finished that statement, he felt a light slap on the back of his head, and when he turned around, it was Midas who backslapped him, as usual.
"Stop sulking Harry," Midas reprimanded him, adopting an austere tone. "Everyone agreed to this –well," Midas peered down at him, "almost everyone." Harry crossed his arms and glared on the floor. He absolutely hated being there.
"Harry." Midas softly sighed, kneeling down to look at him eye-to-eye. "This is Neville's birthday, tomorrow will be yours and Lars's. Don't spoil this for everyone, alright?"
Harry sighed likewise. "Let me just stay with Philip then." He employed his most humble tone but he still doubted that Midas would allow him. And he was right to doubt too.
"No," said Midas with a decidedly decisive tone. "Philip is leaving sometime during the day –and no, you're not going with him." Well, Harry had no choice but to sulk more at that, and he did so for the rest of the time they were in the place, only giving out polite and rented smiles now and then.
"Just what on Earth do you not like about the place?" his friends questioned in a chorus.
"It was absolutely wicked!" Theo exclaimed at the top of his lungs, irritating Harry's ears. "Truly the happiest place on earth."
"And let's not forget," Lars joined in, standing on top of a box like a stage, "It's the most magical place on Earth." Harry shook his head, a mixture of annoyance and amusement inside him. Let it be known that he was so not having anyone who grew up in the Wizarding world go to 'The Happiest Place on Earth', otherwise known as Disneyland.