Chapter Sixteen: How Come You Don't Want Me

Harry's birthday came and went with little fanfare. With Hermione in New York for the latter half of the summer, he had a birthday lunch with only Neville and Luna, before his parents were scheduled to take him out for dinner on the town.

He'd balked at his absent referral to his mum and Sirius as his parents, but Hermione assured him that they were, in all intents and purposes, his parents when she called to wish him a happy birthday all the way from the Big Apple.

His parents.

Sirius hadn't lied when he said that he wanted them to focus on being a family, and Harry could feel it. It was in the daily family dinners, ease of conversation and willingness to participate. There was a subtle change to how it was before, though Harry studiously ignored the number of times his mum and Sirius reached out to touch each other; as if they each needed the assurance that the other was still there.

"Did you get your O.W.L. results?" Hermione asked him after they'd run through all the necessary formalities, her voice crackling through the phone connection.

"That isn't all I got," he informed her, knowing his crypticness would annoy her. Even halfway across the world, she didn't disappoint.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Harry Potter?"

He didn't want to risk her wrath, so he answered quickly. "McGonagall made me Quidditch captain."

"What!"

He was forced to pull the phone away from his ear. "Merlin, Granger, warn a bloke before you blow his ear drum."

"Sorry," she said softly. "I just - Harry."

He let out a laugh. "Well, okay, she made me co-captain."

"Co-captain," she echoed. "As in there are two of you."

"As in there are two of us," he repeated. "Both Potters, in fact."

It was her turn to laugh, maybe from disbelief. This was really funny. "Oh wow. That's definitely going to go down well, isn't it?"

"I suspect that James is throwing a fit right now," he said, sounding deathly amused.

If Hermione noticed that Harry didn't mention Jack, she didn't comment. "Well, it's about time he realised that Jack isn't the only one."

Harry couldn't stop his grin from spreading across his face. That was his initial plan, wasn't it? He went on to ask her about New York, and she gushed about the different sites she'd visited and the shops she'd supposedly emptied, even claiming that she managed to get him an even better birthday present than she'd initially planned.

"I'm going to give it to you myself, when I see you," she told him.

"Which will be when exactly?"

"Soon, I hope," she said, and he could hear the longing in her voice. Wherever she was; whoever she was with; she wasn't enjoying herself nearly as much as she was making it seem.

Merlin, he missed her something fierce, and he just didn't know what to say or do to make her feel better.

"So, those O.W.L.s you want to tell me about so badly?" he questioned, bringing them back to a safe topic of discussion. He didn't want her to hurt any more than she already was, even though she hadn't explicitly come out and said that she was.

"Ten," she told him. "You?"

He smiled knowingly. Of course she'd get a full house. "Uh, nine."

"That's brilliant, Harry."

"Says the girl who got ten O.W.L.s," he said, laughing lightly. "I bet they're all Outstandings as well."

She let out a sigh. "Actually, I got an Exceeds Expectations for DADA," she said, sounding disappointed.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he meant it. She prided herself on her excellence in the classroom, and he was sure that this one hurt. "I'm sure that, if we start your practical tutoring early next year, you'll definitely get your Outstanding for N.E.W.T.s."

"I assume you've started preparations then?"

"Sort of," he admitted. "I have to, if I'm going to give you a run for your money."

"If you say so."

He laughed. "Just you watch, Granger; just you watch."

She waited a beat. "Are we assuming that Devil incarnation herself, Umbridge, will be back as well?"

Harry groaned. "Merlin, I hope not," he said. "Sirius mentioned something about Minister Fudge calling her back to the Ministry, because there's been a lot of strife about the Voldemort rumours and suspicious disappearances, I guess. People are asking questions, and he's definitely feeling the pressure."

"I have half a mind to go to MACUSA, and ask them what they think about everything that may or may not be happening in Britain right now."

"I'm surprised you haven't just gone looking for it, just for interest's sake," he pointed out.

She sighed. "I don't know - I guess that I'm kind of enjoying acting the Muggle, you know? There's no school drama, and I don't have to worry about mini Death Eaters plotting my death."

There was something to be heard in her voice, but he didn't know if he could talk to her about it. They weren't together, as much as he wanted them to be.

"I get that," he said; "though, I call them Death Nibblers."

She let out a laugh that made his heart skip a beat. Even halfway across the world; the girl still brought him to his knees. He laughed with her, his attention flicking to where his mother appeared at the top of the stairs. She was wearing a long red dress, clearly ready for their evening out. "Hey, Granger."

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to have to run," he said, hating to say the words. He would like nothing more than being able to talk to her for the rest of his life. "I've still got to get ready for dinner."

"Oh okay," she said happily. "Enjoy your evening, Potter, and please say hi to your mum and Sirius for me."

"I will."

"Happy birthday, Harry."

He waited a beat, contemplating whether he could tell her that he missed her. In the end, he didn't. "Thank you, Granger."

They both waited another moment in abject silent, each of them listening to the other's breathing. Eventually, Hermione did hang up, and Harry was left feeling oddly hollow. It was the same feeling he'd had over Christmas Break when he'd learned that she was having such a miserable time in Austria. Sure, he complained about James, but at least he had his Mum. And Sirius.

His parents.

He couldn't imagine being with parents who didn't even see him. These were people who were supposed to love her, and they made her feel as if she were invisible. That wasn't okay, and he was at a loss as to how to help. Particularly when he was across an entire ocean. Eventually, he shook the thoughts from his mind. There was nothing he could do now.

So he would just enjoy his night.

And so he did.

Really, turning sixteen didn't bring about any obvious changes to Harry. Well, none that he could actually feel. It was just a day, which, more often than not, fell into the shadows of the major celebration that was usually the Boy-Who-Lived's birthday. Most years, Jack held a massive bash at Potter Manor, but it was different this year. It was radio silent from the Potters, as was expected when there was supposedly a nasty divorce going on.

Harry didn't know for a fact that it was nasty, but he assumed it was, if James had anything to do with it.

In the end, dinner was great. It might have been weird, just him, his Mum and Sirius, but it was one of his favourite birthdays to date. He loved the fact that they weren't afraid to be the couple that they now were in front of him. He could practically feel the love, and it made him miss Hermione that bit more. Despite that, though, he made a vow to enjoy his evening, and enjoy he did.

He was on such a high, really, that it took Lily and Sirius a few days to figure out how to approach Harry to tell him about the time before. In the end, Sirius decided that there was no easy to say what they needed to say. He had to know that there were circumstances beyond his or their control that had them end up where they currently were.

So it was a Tuesday in August that Harry Potter learnt something he would likely never forget.

"Sweetheart?"

Harry glanced about the living room. Nothing about it looked different, but there was definitely something in the air. "What's going on?" Harry asked. "Why are the two of you sitting in the dark like this?"

Lily took a deep, calming breath. "Come sit with us a while," she said. "There's something we'd like to tell you."

Almost immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. "What's this about?" he asked cautiously.

"Just come sit," Lily instructed, and Harry obeyed, sinking down into an armchair and turning nervous eyes on the pair of them. "You're not in trouble," Lily told him, noting the flash of fear in his eyes. "Nobody's hurt either. There hasn't been another attack."

Harry visibly relaxed. As long as nobody was hurt; how bad could this be? "Then what's up?"

Lily and Sirius exchanged a look, before Lily leaned forward. "We'd like to talk to you about what happened when you were younger," she said. "Particularly before that night in Godric's Hollow."

Harry blinked innocently. "Oh." He shifted in his seat, trying and failing to get comfortable. He couldn't help thinking, why now?

"There are things that we've never told you," Lily said. "By design, of course, and by instruction. But we believe that you're old enough to know the truth of why that night in Godric's Hollow actually happened." Lily glanced at Sirius, who nodded in encouragement. "Sixteen years ago, a prophecy was revealed to Albus Dumbledore," she began; "a prophecy that started everything."

Sirius started to fiddle with something on the coffee table, but Harry kept his eyes on his mother.

"The prophecy referred to a boy who was to be born at the end of July in 1980, who held the power to defeat Voldemort."

Despite himself, Harry's eyes bulged. "What?"

Lily looked at Sirius, giving him a sign with her eyes.

Sirius cleared his throat, and started to read aloud from a piece of parchment, even though he knew the words by heart. "The prophecy stated: The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

Harry frowned. That definitely didn't mean what he thought it did.

Lily continued, realising that she would have to explain it fully. "At the time, when Dumbledore presented it to us, we were able to deduce a few things. The subject of the prophecy was indeed male, born at the tail end of July of 1980 to parents who had defied Voldemort on three separate occasions and were still alive. He would have a power that Voldemort would not understand." She took a breath. "And, if there was more than one boy who fit this description, it would be Voldemort who chose who would ultimately be his foe."

Harry took a moment to register what that truly meant, and his eyes went wide. "You mean - ?"

Lily took in a deep breath and released it slowly. "There were three boys who fit the prophecy," she said. "You, Jack and Neville."

Harry's mouth opened, and then closed. Wait. What?

"As you can imagine, when we learned of the prophecy, we had decisions to make. Especially when we found out that Voldemort was aware of the prophecy as well." At this, Sirius and Lily exchanged a significant look. No. They would not tell Harry just who was responsible for that revelation. "We went into hiding, of course." She shook her head. "Well, you went into hiding."

Harry hadn't stopped frowning once.

"Your father took you, and then you, Jack, Marlene and James all went into hiding behind a Fidelius Charm."

Harry blinked in confusion. "But what about you?"

"I was here," she explained steadily, her voice unwavering. "You were safer with him, and he wanted you - "

Harry coughed, surprise and something else making him choke on air. "He wa - he wanted me?" he asked, his voice so small that Lily barely heard him.

"Of course, Harry," she said, slightly concerned by his reaction. "He wanted you with him," she said. "We worked something out, for your sake, and then you went into hiding, and I didn't see you for a few weeks." She swallowed her slight guilt.

She'd rather him believe that she'd willingly sent him away, rather than tell him that James didn't really give her much of a choice in the matter, being the primary parent and all. She hadn't even been allowed to visit. The boys' safety was the most important at the time, and she hadn't put up that much of a fight. It would have crushed her if her own selfishness led to her son being discovered.

Well, in the end, it didn't even matter.

Lily cleared her throat. She couldn't really figure out what her son was thinking, but she had no choice but to push through. She decided to tell him the truth, and they would just have to deal with what came afterwards.

"At the time, I was under the impression that Sirius was the Secret Keeper," she told Harry. "After everything that happened with, uh, Marlene; James and Sirius weren't exactly on speaking terms."

Sirius scoffed at that, but said nothing.

"Sirius is the only one I trusted, but - " she paused. "Well, James didn't trust him, so the Secret Keeper became Peter."

Harry knew that much. Peter Pettigrew - or Wormtail - was a rat on the run after he was discovered to be the Boy-Who-Lived's best friend's pet rat. Really, Harry didn't know why Peter hadn't taken human form and finished off his Master's job whenever he was left alone with Jack. It wasn't that he wished harm on his brother - well, the significant kind, at least - but it just didn't make sense to him, until Sirius spoke.

"Peter was a coward," Sirius said, and that was all Harry needed. Peter Pettigrew was a coward. "A filthy, back-stabbing, mother-fu - "

"Sirius," Lily said, and Harry couldn't stifle his giggle. He'd just been told a whole host of things, but it didn't seem that any of it was really hitting him. It was as if his mother was just telling him a story about a boy who wasn't him, until his mother spoke again. "So, well, Voldemort was actively searching for you."

Harry jerked back slightly. "For me?"

Lily nodded. "From what we learned after the fact; he reasoned that you would be the easiest and most dispensable, given that you are a Halfblood," she explained. "Both Neville and Jack are Purebloods. He believed that it would be a waste of untainted blood."

Harry just stared at her. It was one thing for him to be part of some archaic prophecy, but an entirely different thing to be the subject chosen by Voldemort himself. Harry liked to think that he remained under the radar when it came to Voldemort - his mother made sure of it - so it was unsettling to know that Voldemort had once come after him, intending to kill him, and not Jack.

"With Peter's help, Voldemort was able to find you," Lily said, her voice shaky. She didn't like to think about the night that she almost lost all that was dear to her. Sirius included. Because, really, if anything had happened to her son - besides the magical exhaustion he supposedly suffered - she never would have forgiven him.

To this day, she still harboured the feeling that he should have done more to be the Secret Keeper. Then none of this would have happened. Her son wouldn't have been found, and the attack wouldn't have resulted in Harry thinking that his father never wanted him.

"Voldemort himself?" Harry asked quietly.

Lily nodded. "I only know what I've been told, Harry, from Marlene, and even a bit from James." It still made her feel dirty, just saying his name. So many years later, and the events of that night - no, the entire few years - still burned her. "Voldemort turned up at Godric's Hollow on Hallowe'en night in 1981. My understanding is that he went alone, as only he could put an end to the prophecy as it was."

"By killing me?"

Lily could only nod. "He entered our - their - umm - " She stopped to take a breath, prompting Sirius into action. He reached for her hand, squeezed it in encouragement, and she was able to continue: "He entered the home, only one thing on his mind."

Killing me, Harry thought.

"He attacked James first because he was downstairs," Lily explained. "Marlene next. He didn't want any adult intervention, but he also didn't want to waste any pure blood if he didn't have to." She shuddered involuntarily at the very truth that, if she'd been there, she wouldn't have survived the night. "What happened after that; Voldemort only knows. Albus has a theory though; the one that the entire Wizarding World has believed, merely because of his say-so," she said, rolling her eyes the only way that Lily Evans could. "He took into consideration the angle of the cot you were both in; the way you were positioned; the fact that you were asleep, and decided that Jack must have survived somehow. Protecting you."

Harry blinked. Protecting him? It was too much to take in. His father wanted him, and his brother protected him. They were both such foreign concepts to Harry that all he could do was just sit and stare, trying to make sense of it all.

Lily huffed. "I suppose that was the moment that the Wizarding World made a decision," she said. "There had been a lot of talk when they found out that James Potter had fathered two sons from two different women but, after that night, they seemed to forget that Jack was not the only one. Albus was concerned that backlash from the attack had rendered you a squib, Harry. He believed that, perhaps, in order to protect you, Jack had essentially borrowed your magic, and you were unable to replenish it."

Harry had to admit that he was a little bit confused. They were clearly telling him all of this for a reason, and he didn't know what that was. He was also too afraid to ask.

"As you can imagine," Lily said; "there are parts of that theory that are plain stupid."

Harry glanced at Sirius, and they exchanged a significant look. Lily definitely wasn't happy with the role Albus Dumbledore played in relegating her son to the forgotten place in which he'd found himself for so many years.

"Obviously you're not a squib. You're one of the most powerful wizards your age." She huffed again, before she forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. "Which is why we've been conducting our own research."

Harry raised his eyebrows. Oh.

Sirius spoke up then. "There are still a lot of things that we don't know, and just can't understand. Remus has been travelling, meeting with scholars all around the world, and we still... well, we don't have much."

Oh, so that was where Remus Lupin was. Harry'd been almost too afraid to ask. Apparently, there were a lot of things he wasn't sure he wanted to know. "Are you referring to my strange link to Jack?" he asked.

"Or to Voldemort," Sirius offered, and that gave Harry pause. Sure, he'd toyed with the idea that his link was in fact connected to Voldemort, but that was impossible, right? He had nothing to do with Voldemort. He was linked to Jack, and only Jack.

But the nightmares.

The nightmares.

Were those Jack's? And, if they weren't, whose were they? Would he have to ask Jack if he got them too? Did Jack's scar - which was more like a burn - hurt him sometimes? Were these things that the adults discussed, as they tried to figure things out? All the questions were starting to give him a headache.

"We've been focused on figuring out this link, because the implications would be immense," Lily said, but Harry could hear something in her voice.

"Do you think that I could help?" he asked, and was met with silence. "No," he said, answering his own question. "You think that this link could hurt me, don't you?"

"We don't understand it, Harry," she said. "Until then, anything is expected to happen."

He shook his head. What were they trying to tell him, but also not at the same time? "Does Jack know any of this?" he asked.

"I don't believe that he does," Sirius said.

"For the same reasons that I wasn't told until now?" Harry asked. There was no obvious anger in his tone, but there was something there: hurt, confusion, frustration, maybe even some irritation and apprehension. Lily suspected that there would be more to deal with once he fully wrapped his head around what he was being told.

"We love you," Lily said. "We made a decision to wait to tell you, because we cared more for your happiness than your knowing the truth about the reasons for that night, more for your peace of mind. There has always been plans for when he did return, as Albus feared that he would; but they were dependent on a cooperating Ministry. Things are different now. When you are old enough - "

"I am - "

Lily raised her hand to quiet him. "When I believe you are old enough, I will ask you if you want to join the resistance - "

"I do - "

She shook her head. "Listen to me, Harry," she said carefully. "None of this is fun and games. This is dangerous. It is War. There are people out there who want to kill us. They want to kill you, and that isn't something to be taken lightly." She needed him to know. He had to know that, at the first sniff of extreme danger, she would probably whisk him away and hide him behind another Fidelius Charm. She would do it in a heartbeat. She would do anything to protect him.

She'd even given him up.

"I expect you to focus on your studies," Lily said. "Despite everything that's going on, your education is paramount. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded.

"Slowly, we'll involve you more," she continued. "There are still some things that you will not be told, but I expect you to respect the boundaries that I set. You may be sixteen now, but you're still my teenage son, and that means that nothing changes when it comes to my word."

He nodded again.

Lily sighed. "I just want you to be prepared, Harry," she said. "You said it yourself; something is coming, and I need you to stay safe, which means that you have to be prepared. I won't lose you, do you hear me?"

There was a certain desperation in her voice that made him uncomfortable. He still felt as if she was trying to tell him something without actually telling him; like she wanted him to figure it out for himself.

"Say something," Lily said.

Harry was silent for another few moments, before he finally spoke. "Okay," he agreed, almost automatically. Then: "James really wanted me?"

Out of everything that'd been said, it should have been a sign of some sort to Lily that that was the part on which the boy was stuck. For so long, he'd believed that his father had hated him from the very beginning; just for being born. But.

But.

"Harry?" Lily questioned, and she was met with silence. "Harry?"

"He actually wanted me?"

She nodded. It was important that he know that James hadn't always been the man that he now was. She'd fallen in love with a caring boy, who was still trying to figure himself out, she supposed. She was blinded by that love, and by a pregnancy that was equal parts exciting and terrifying. She liked to think that circumstances led him to Marlene, rather than something that she did, because the alternative was still heartbreaking, all these years later. In the beginning, it wasn't Harry he didn't want; it was her. But things were different now.

James made a choice back in 1980, and all of them were forced to deal with it. She sometimes wondered if he regretted it, and maybe that's why he was so angry all the time. Maybe he looked at Harry, and then looked at Jack, and wondered if he'd picked right.

Lily shuddered to think about what their lives would be like if James had decided to pick differently. She couldn't say whether she would have forgiven him, but their lives definitely would have been different.

But then again, even if he had chosen them; Albus' proclamations on that Hallowe'en night might have set them back on this path once more.

"It was your love?" Harry suddenly said, or asked.

"Hmm?"

"That kept you from telling me before today?"

All Lily could do was nod, because she didn't understand where this was going.

"Love," he repeated. "It's the one thing that Voldemort doesn't have. He believes that we're weak and foolish to feel it."

Lily and Sirius exchanged a look. Where had Harry learned that little piece of insight? In the Chamber? The graveyard?

"But he's wrong," Harry said quietly, somewhat profoundly. "Love is more powerful than anything he's ever known, and it will ultimately be his downfall."

His words were so much like Dumbledore's that, if asked, Lily wouldn't be able to say which wizard said them. She wondered if Dumbledore had ever actually spoken to Harry about his theories, but she reasoned that Dumbledore still believed that Jack was the one to save them all.

Lily Evans wasn't so sure.

And, if she was being honest with herself, she'd never been.

Come September first, Harry Potter was literally bouncing in the backseat of Sirius' car. It'd been a long summer of not seeing Hermione, and he honestly couldn't wait to set his eyes on her. He wasn't even ashamed of how much he'd missed her. Merlin, he missed her.

Sirius and Lily kept exchanging amused looks in the front seats. Sirius could remember when he was a sixteen-year-old boy who was hopelessly in love, so he shouldn't have found it funny, but he did. Had he also been that hopeless? It was equal parts cute and pathetic.

Also, it seemed that both adults were relieved that their talk after his birthday didn't seem to have affected him too much. Lily's intention was never to make James look better or worse in Harry's eyes; it was just to make him look human. He was a man who'd tried and failed. Sure, he'd betrayed Lily, but it wasn't until he had his back against a wall - choosing between the Boy-Who-Lived or both boys - that he started to become the man he was today. Maybe he'd sensed obligation, fame, opportunity, just something; because then he'd made a decision that was life-defining.

When Sirius finally parked in front of the Station, Harry practically sprinted out of the car, taking it for granted that his mother and Sirius would follow.

Which they did. Initially, Lily didn't want to accompany her boys to the Station, but she'd missed out on so much already. Sirius was also willing to use it as an opportunity to let the Wizarding World know that he was finally - he hoped, at least - and officially off the market. Which was why, when he held out his hand, Lily took it, and she did not let go.

Harry had eyes for only one person once he was inside. Even after the summer, it was as if he was still clued in to her in such a way that, even in the crowd, he found her easily. She was standing with a man in a suit. A driver, he guessed. He wasn't even surprised by that.

Hermione spotted him a beat later and, without giving it much more thought; she was running towards him. It'd been a long summer, which was why, when she reached him, she threw her arms around him and squeezed him tight enough to hurt.

Harry hugged her back just as fiercely, before they simultaneously released each other as if they were just remembering who, where and how they were.

"I missed you," she said, seemingly unafraid to voice that truth. Baby steps or something.

"I can see that," he said teasingly.

She smiled widely at him. "How can you tell?"

He eyed her, his eyebrows rising. "I'm assuming that your time with your parents wasn't all that great?"

She couldn't resist rolling her eyes. "What time with my parents?" she asked sarcastically. "They worked the entire time I was home, and then I literally spent the time in New York alone."

Harry bristled. He was sorely tempted to go straight to her parents and give them a piece of his mind. But, of course, they hadn't bothered to bring her to the Station themselves. "It's okay," he said instead. "I'm here now."

And he was.

Hermione took a small step away from him, as if she were just remembering why they'd spent the summer apart. Because they were. Apart. For reasons that she couldn't find all that important in this moment. She'd missed him so much, that it'd actually hurt.

"Come on," he said, glancing over her shoulder at the driver-man watching them. "Let's find Luna and Neville."

Really, it was much too easy to locate them, given the ghastly colours that Mr Lovegood was wearing. Madam Longbottom, Neville and both Lily and Sirius were standing with Luna and Mr Lovegood. They were an odd bunch, all different heights, clothing and hair colour; but Harry couldn't mistake the sudden rush of warmth he felt at the sight of them.

They felt like family.

He risked a look at Hermione. "I know sometimes you feel alone," he said softly; "but you're not. Not really." He reached for her hand, braving clasping her fingers. "We're all here for you. Please don't forget."

Hermione was too stunned and emotional to say anything, so she remained silent.

Harry released her hand, thinking he'd pushed too far. This was going to be the hardest part, he was sure. Because he was ready. He was ready for her, but he had the sneaking suspicion that she wasn't quite ready for him. They'd tried before - insecurities and external forces got in the way. He needed her to be sure this time around.

"Hey," Hermione heard Harry say to the amassed group, and then the two of them were pulled into numerous hugs. Hermione received an enthusiastic one from Sirius, and a much gentler one from Lily. She was also surprised by Neville's embrace, but he made nothing of it as the four students got reacquainted after a summer apart.

Hermione kept her eyes on Harry the entire time, watching him interact with his two best friends. He didn't seem guarded. He almost looked lighter, happier, and it gave her pause. What happened this summer? What did she miss? Her traitorous mind took her back to the story he told her about the Jennifer girl, and she frowned. No. Stop.

What was wrong with her?

"I think it's time you kids boarded," Sirius said, surprising them all. "What?" he asked innocently, seeing their shocked faces. "Sometimes I've been known to act like a mature adult. Deal with it."

They said quick goodbyes, during which Lily kissed them all atop their heads and told them all to write often. That was Lily Evans. Mum to all.

"Back of the train?" Neville asked, as they climbed onto the Express, Harry gesturing for Hermione and Luna to go in after Neville.

"Yes," the other three said, almost in unison, which made them share a laugh.

It was still rather early, so the compartments were rather empty. They didn't encounter anyone untowardly, which was a relief. Hermione would have to go to the Prefects' carriage at some point and come face to face with Ron for the first time since the train incident, but she wasn't worrying about that. For all he knew, she had nothing to do with his ending up upside down stuck to the side of the train for close to half an hour.

"This one looks promising," Neville declared, before entering an empty compartment near the end of the train.

"Reckon your boyfriend will find us in here?" Luna asked Harry, laughing at her own joke.

Neville picked up the thread, even as Hermione frowned. "Malfoy's nothing if not determined," he said, laughing as well; "he won't stop until he sets eyes on our handsome and badass friend here."

"Har har," Harry faked a laugh. "Very funny."

"You missed us," Neville said.

Harry couldn't help his grin, his eyes flicking Hermione's way on instinct. "I did. I really did."

Like the year before, Harry was relegated to spending the Sorting seated at the Gryffindor table next to Hermione Granger. Only, this year, he wasn't the least bit sour about it. For once, he had a friend at this table, though he still had 'enemies.' Jack hadn't said anything to him at all, Ginny was sitting further along the table and Ron had shot him a heated look. Okay, so he did still have enemies, but that paled in comparison to how it felt to have Hermione talking to him, even looking at him.

Harry didn't actually pay attention to the Sorting at all, until Hermione grabbed his forearm and gestured towards the front of the Great Hall.

"It's Olivia's turn," she said, and Harry followed her gaze.

And there, indeed, was Olivia Potter, seated on the stool, with McGonagall poised to set the Sorting Hat on her head. Harry thought that she looked too young to be up there. Sure, it'd been a while since he'd seen the half-sister he barely knew, but she just looked so small.

"Were we that small when we started?" he found himself asking.

"I reckon you were smaller," Hermione replied, her voice giving away her amusement before she turned serious. "But, yes, she does look tiny, doesn't she? They all do."

They waited a moment, before the Sorting Hat was declaring Olivia the third Potter in Gryffindor. There was collective cheering, in which Harry thoroughly participated. He toyed with the idea of saying something to her later, but he wasn't sure how it would go down. He didn't know her at all. In fact, he could probably count on one hand the number of times they'd actually spoken.

"Oh, that's wonderful," Hermione finally said.

"How well do you know her?" Harry found himself asking, feeling a little odd that Hermione probably knew his half-sister far more than he did.

"As well as I could know my ex-best friend's little sister," she said with a shrug. "Why?"

"I don't know her at all."

Her features softened. "Well, now's your chance, I guess. If she'll let you."

"You mean, if Jack will," he countered. "Do you think she's been poisoned against me as well?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice solemn as she thought about it. "I guess we'll just have to find out."

"We?"

She blinked, but she did not respond to his query, as the Hall erupted in applause for the next student who was Sorted. Harry didn't push it. He would have to figure out what to do about Olivia, and then about Jack. They were co-captains of the Quidditch team, which just made this entire year that bit more complicated. Now that the twins and their Chaser girls were gone; they'd need an entirely new team, which meant that he'd actually have to captain with Jack. What was Professor McGonagall trying to do to him?

When Dumbledore declared the Feast open; Harry was able to distract himself with food. Hermione prattled on about anything and everything aside from her holiday. She studiously did not mention her parents or New York to him, and Harry wasn't going to ask. She'd tell him when she was ready.

Patience. He had to have a lot of patience.

After dinner, Hermione headed to Gryffindor Tower to oversee the fifth-year prefects getting the First-Years situated, while Harry accompanied Luna and Neville to their respective Houses. Sure, it felt good to be back, but he did miss his mum. Not that he'd ever admit that.

The Common Room was buzzing when he finally made it to Gryffindor Tower. Students were excited to be back, but he was sure that their opinions about that would surely change when they had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day.

As tempted as he was to rush up to his dormitory and avoid the evening in its entirety, he couldn't. He was worried about his trunk, of course, but he doubted that Jack or Ron would try something this year. Jack was being unusually subdued, and Harry didn't even notice Ron.

Hermione. All he saw was Hermione Granger.

He found her sitting on the couch opposite the fireplace, talking to none other than Olivia Potter herself. He suspected that Hermione might have done it on purpose, just to make it easy for him. Despite that, he was still wary of interrupting them, though that had to be better than just standing awkwardly and staring at them.

"There he is," Hermione said when she spotted him making his way towards them.

"Hey," he said quietly, looking between the two girls. "Everything go okay?" he asked Hermione.

"About as expected," she said simply, which gave him the opportunity to let the situation get awkward, or do something about it.

Mustering all the courage he had, he looked at Olivia, who was already looking at him curiously. "It's cool that you got into Gryffindor," he managed to say.

"Is it?" she questioned, which threw him for a moment.

"I guess being a Potter in Gryffindor - " he stopped. "Actually, being a Potter anywhere has its drawbacks, but I promise it's not that bad. At least, not all the time."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, and she sounded so small. It was a little heartbreaking.

"Experience," he said with a shrug. Really, if he'd managed to survive all that Hogwarts had thrown at him so far; she was going to be perfectly fine. "Plus, you already have family and friends looking out for you."

She smiled up at him, which did wonders for his nerves. Maybe she didn't hate him after all.

Harry headed up a few minutes later, citing that he wanted to get all set for their first day before the dormitory filled up with rowdy boys. Hermione just watched him go, unsure how she felt about the situation they found themselves in. She let out a long sigh once he was out of sight, and the girl next to her nudged her with her elbow.

"Are you okay?"

Wasn't that the million dollar question?

Hermione didn't answer because she didn't know what to say. Was she okay? Did she even know how to be okay? What did that word even mean?

She was still thinking about it when she too called it a night. It wasn't that late, but it was later than she'd intended for her first night back. She bid Eloise and Fay goodnight, before she headed up to their dormitory.

On her way, she encountered one of the last people she wanted to see.

"Hermione?"

The brunette turned sharply in the corridor, not expecting to hear that voice so soon.

Ginny was looking at her somewhat expectantly. "I didn't see you on the train," she said nervously.

Hermione just stared at her. Truly, Hermione liked to think that she was over everything that had happened, but she really wasn't. Just looking at the redhead brought back all the bad memories of the previous school year. She couldn't forgive her. She wasn't even sure that she wanted to.

"That was by design," Hermione eventually said.

Ginny dropped her gaze. "I miss my friend."

Hermione puffed out a breath. "Well, you should have thought about that before you tried to steal my boyfriend."

"Hermione," she forced. "I want us to be friends again."

"That isn't how it works, Ginny," Hermione told her. "If you need a friend so badly, make other ones. Talk to other people. Date other people, because you won't get any joy from any of us here. I'm not interested. Neither is Jack, and you better stay away from Harry."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but Hermione didn't give her the chance.

"I have somewhere to be," she said, pushing past her and heading up to her room. It'd been an exhausting day, and all she wanted to do was prepare for the first day of school and then crawl into bed and get some sleep. This was one of the drawbacks of arriving on a Sunday - the students weren't afforded much time to acclimate to being back in the Castle.

Even so, Hermione Granger was roaring to go in the morning. She got ready in record time, and then headed downstairs. It wasn't a surprise to her when she found Harry waiting in the Common Room, his bag on the couch next to him.

"Good morning," she said, getting his attention.

The smile she received made her heart stutter. He stood up immediately but he didn't move towards her. He was waiting for her to lead them in this dance, and he vowed to be patient. Hermione appreciated him even more for it.

"I have your birthday present," she said, bouncing slightly. "Do you want it now?"

Harry nodded, despite the fact that he'd almost forgotten about it. "What is it?"

"I can't tell you that," she said while digging in the pocket of her robes for her wand. She raised it, and said, "Accio Harry's present." A moment later, a wrapped package came flying through the air towards them.

Harry's reflexes immediately caught it, and he couldn't help his smile. "Quite heavy, huh?"

"I wasn't sure what to get you at first, but then I decided to replace your Potter hooded sweater that I nicked," she told him. "I'm keeping it, by the way."

He raised his eyebrows. "So that's where it went."

"Open it."

Harry didn't have to be told twice, as he ripped at the wrapping paper to reveal a black hooded sweater, with the words: "Mosstrooper No. 1" embroided on its front in green lettering, with a large rendering of Harry's scar piercing the letters.

"I found this factory shop in the Soho district where they made these," she explained. "It's tailor-made, just for you."

Harry was stunned silent for a moment, before his face broke out in a face-splitting smile. "This is amazing, Granger," he said quietly. "Thank you! Seriously, thank you!" He wanted to hug her, maybe even kiss her, but he didn't make the move.

Thankfully, she did. She hugged him tight for a moment, clinging to him the way that only Hermione Granger could.

"Breakfast?" he suggested once they released each other, somewhat reluctantly.

Hermione didn't know if she should bring up the topic of their previous relationship. She knew that she had to at some point, but when would be the right time. Now definitely wasn't the right time. It was now just something that was hanging over them, just waiting for them to tackle it.

One day.

Soon, maybe.

Hermione waited while Harry raced up to his dormitory to put away his present, and then he led the way to the Great Hall, as they absently discussed the upcoming day. He mentioned to her that he was worried about how the Quidditch team was going to work this year. He'd have to work with Jack, as opposed to having to tolerate being in the same airspace as him.

In the end, Harry needn't have worried about having to approach Jack, because Jack surprised them all by moving to sit next to Harry once he and Hermione settled at the Gryffindor table. It was too early for Luna and Neville to be at breakfast, so they settled side by side and barely got to their food before Jack sat down to talk. It was clear that that was all he wanted. He didn't look at all comfortable, but it was clear to both Harry and Hermione that Jack was sitting where he was sitting for a reason. He didn't even reach for any food.

"Okay," Jack said, getting Harry's attention. "I don't like it any more than you do, but McGonagall made us both captains of the team, which means that we're going to have to make it work somehow."

Harry just nodded, because what was he supposed to say?

"Ideally, we'd need to have tryouts as soon as possible, given our dangerously empty team," he said. "Which is why I've scheduled tryouts for this weekend."

Harry nodded again. If he was irritated that Jack made the decision without him, he didn't show it. He'd spent a while trying to come to terms to what this new dynamic would entail, but it was still so new to him. Plus, Harry wasn't sure how to go about voicing his ideas now that Jack seemed to be taking control of things.

Jack took a moment to acknowledge Harry's silence, before his features turned into something that Harry didn't immediately recognise. Jack Potter looked... unsure? Was that it? "You are planning on being there, right?" he asked, his voice small.

"Are you about to challenge me if I say yes?"

Jack let out an unexpected laugh that made them both uncomfortable. Jack recovered first, clearing his throat. "Are you planning on being there?" he asked again.

"Would I stand a chance if I was?"

"You are our Keeper, Harry," he said. "Though Ron definitely wants in if you're not keen on the position."

His phrasing gave Harry pause. Perhaps the boy was thinking what Harry was thinking after all. "What are you really asking me, Jack?" Harry asked.

Jack looked around for a moment, before he shifted that bit closer. They should definitely be having this conversation in private, but he wasn't sure he trusted himself to be civil if there weren't people around. "McGonagall made you co-captain because she knew I would try to get you off the team."

"I suspected as much."

"But you are our best Keeper."

"And your best Seeker."

Jack laughed. He actually laughed, and those around them looked on in surprise. "Look, I want to win the House Cup again," he said. "It'd be amazing to win it every year we've been here."

"Which means that you have something in mind?"

He nodded. "And I believe you've thought of it as well."

Harry merely waited.

"Well, I was thinking that, umm," he hesitated. "Well, you see before she left, Angelina may have mentioned that you could have played Chaser."

"Did she?"

Jack actually rolled his eyes. "Based on the tryouts from last year, I think I have a pretty good idea of what to expect from you this weekend."

"You're not actually saying anything, Jack."

He sighed. "I want the best team, Harry."

"I do too."

"Which is why I think you should switch to Chaser this year."

Harry just watched him.

"If you're as good as I hope you are, it's the best decision we can make," he said. "Ron is a decent enough Keeper. I'm an all right Seeker on most days, and we can find kids with aggression problems easy, for our Beaters."

"What about the other Chasers?"

Jack was spurred on by the fact that Harry wasn't immediately against the idea. "Well."

"Well what?"

"I believe that Ginny intends to try out."

Harry shifted in his seat, his eyes flicking to a spot over Jack's shoulder. "Well, she can't."

Jack nodded once. "I know."

Harry was quiet for a long moment as he thought about it. This entire conversation was confusing, and surprising, but he was willing to see it through. As long as he got to play Quidditch, did it really bother him what position he played? And, really, it would be funny to see how James reacted to the fact that his other son was playing in his position.

James. Huh? Harry still wasn't sure what to make of all he'd been told about that time, which was why he was going to continue to ignore it.

"I'm in," Harry eventually said.

Jack looked pleasantly surprised. "You are?"

"I won't play on the same team as Ginny Weasley," he reiterated.

"I know."

"Then we're good."

Jack just nodded, before he stood up and moved to a position further along the table. They'd talk, sure, but they weren't going to eat with each other. Well, not on days that they weren't playing Quidditch matches.

Harry sat for a moment, trying to accept what had just happened. "That just happened, right?" he asked Hermione.

"If you're referring to the fact that you and Jack had a public conversation where the worst that happened is one of you rolled your eyes, then yes, that did just happen."

He risked a smile, though he was experienced enough not to dwell on it too much. It was doubtful that he and Jack would ever truly be brothers - too much had happened - but the least they could do was be civil. They did share a sister, who was now among them.

Harry was still in a bit of shock when McGonagall started to hand out their class schedules. Hermione retrieved Harry's for him, and did a quick check. Now that their O.W.L.s were over, they could trim down their course load. Hermione didn't actually ask Harry which subjects he was taking. Her original decision was to try to take as many as possible, but Professor McGonagall suggested that seven was more than enough. So seven it was: Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Potions.

According to Harry's schedule, he was taking everything she was, without the Arithmancy. Hermione noted that the six that he was taking were ones that were required to get a job in the Ministry. As an Auror, maybe.

Hermione could definitely see him as an Auror, but she suspected that he would likely steer clear of that profession, so long as James Potter worked in the Department.

"How's it looking?" Harry asked about the timetables, having finally recovered.

"Busy."

"That's the plan, isn't it?"

She shrugged. "I suppose I'll have to survive Arithmancy without you," she said. "Why'd you drop it?"

"Seven is a lot, Granger."

"No, I mean, why did you pick that one to drop?"

It was his turn to shrug. "It was either that or Ancient Runes, and AR is so much more interesting. I can do Maths with my mum at home, if needs be."

Hermione registered her slight jealousy at having the option of that at home, and then let it be. She was here now, with people who recognised her; noticed her; didn't overlook her; wanted her. These were the people who cared about her.

She could see it as plain as day whenever she looked at Harry Potter.

Now, she just had to make sure that she accepted it.