A/N: I had planned to get this out earlier - I wrote it when I was on holiday over the summer and only really needed to edit it and write it up on my computer - but then I started back at sixth form and life got a bit crazy. There's one last sort of bonus chapter to come, which shows when James first realised he likes boys, and the whole thing is part of my much larger overall head canon, which I'm slowly going over in my story We Were Born To Die (which I also haven't updated in forever...).
The Burrow was rammed. It often was over Christmas and other family-gathering-worthy events. Molly Weasley, now speaking eagerly of great-grandchildren and giving Teddy and Victoire pointed looks, insisted on her family visiting the Burrow at frequent intervals, and while the younger cousins often wanted to spend their holidays hanging out with their friends, their parents remembered too much of the uncertainty of war to miss the opportunity.
Harry always found it amusing that, despite Mr and Mrs Weasley living alone for most of the year, the Burrow was larger now than it had been when their children lived at home. When the couple didn't have family round they mostly used the extra rooms for storage – Molly's hoard of baby clothes and pictures, Arthur's Muggle machines and books. During the holidays it always jam-packed with children and adults talking and laughing.
Now it was Christmas Eve and everyone had gathered. The adults were four to a room – Harry and Ginny were sharing with Ron and Hermione, George and Angelina with Percy and Audrey (to neither brothers' amusement), and Bill and Fleur with Charlie and Teddy. Molly and Arthur had kept their own room after a rather long argument which had ended with Hermione and Ginny threatening to lock Molly and Arthur in if they didn't agree to it.
The children, including Victoire (who had wanted to share with Teddy since they were now engaged, but had been turned down on the basis that Uncle Charlie would have nowhere to sleep and Bill didn't want to think about what his daughter got up to at night, thank you very much), had been separated by age and gender. Victoire was with her sister Dominque and their cousin Molly, who had been called Mini Molly ever since Freddie was old enough to give out nicknames. Lucy, Rose, Lily, and Roxanne had another room, and seemed to spend more of their nights giggling together than sleeping. All five boys were in one room, despite Albus and Fred's strenuous protests that they shouldn't have to share with Louis and Hugo. James hadn't seemed to care much where he slept.
Molly and Ginny had chased most of the cousins out of the house early in the morning and they were now in the garden, building snowmen, running in circles, and, in the case of Dom, Freddie, Lucy, and Lily, having a rather aggressive snowball fight. Only Teddy was left inside, drinking eggnog with Arthur and the Uncles, and Albus and James in the boys' messy, make-shift bedroom.
"So you are seeing him," Albus was saying, as Lily shrieked from the garden and Ginny, with a whispered swear word, dropped bowl of potatoes in the kitchen.
The younger Potter brother was lying across his cousin Freddie's bed, a potions textbook and a half-written letter to his friend Scorpius abandoned in front of him, his green eyes fixed unwaveringly on his brother. James wasn't staring back. His own book, a dusty Muggle tome he'd found God knows where, had been tossed aside in favour of the Muggle phone he took everywhere – he'd even found a way to make it work at Hogwarts, something Al refused to admit that he found impressive.
"Will you give it a rest?" he said, not even looking up.
"He's a teacher, James," Al said, as though Jay wasn't aware of this particular issue with his latest romance. "That breaks all sorts of rules and codes of ethics."
"He's only a substitute," James muttered. "And he's younger than Teddy." Albus snorted. He was of the opinion that James's childhood crush on their godbrother made him a bit blind where the older boy was concerned. "Come on, Al, you've had crushes on much older people – and, I might add, Sam's not evil. He's no Delphini."
Albus wished fervently that he'd never told his brother about his ill-fated passion for the woman who'd claimed to be Voldemort's daughter – both Harry and James suspected that she and her mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, had been delusional and Voldemort had had no part in Delphini's existence. Even worse, James was right: Sam Clearwater was a Muggle-born (though his aunt had been a witch), a former Hufflepuff, and a kind, cheerful young man who treated his students probably more leniently than they deserved and wanted the same thing as James: a brief but loving relationship that they could both look back on fondly when they had, as they inevitably would, separated.
"He's still your teacher," Albus said.
"I'm never going to use the NEWT," James said dismissively. "I know all the defensive magic I need to, and anyway, Dad's enough of an incentive to mean I was never going to get that grade honestly anyway. At least Sam tries to be fair."
Albus frowned. Truthfully, he didn't have a problem with James dating Sam – they were happy together and Sam was an alright bloke who'd never once judged Albus based on his house – but this was James's third boyfriend, a very good-looking guy several years older than him, while Al had so far failed to get one measly date with a girl. The only women he'd kissed were his mother, his grandmother, his aunts, and, on one memorable but not particularly enjoyable occasion, his great-aunt Petunia. So he was feeling a bit petty, especially since he knew that James had done just about everything there was to do with a boy by the time he was Albus's age.
"I'm telling Dad," he declared.
"Don't you fucking dare," James said, starting up – but Albus was already dashing out of the door.
Harry, Teddy, Arthur, and the Weasley brothers looked round as Albus appeared in the doorway, his black hair sticking up and his glasses askew, panting. He clutched the doorframe as though expecting a tidal wave to sweep him away at any moment.
"Dad," he managed, between breaths. "Dad, tell James he's not allowed to date his teacher."
"You little shit, Al," James growled behind him, and they both vanished as the older boy pounced. There was a series of loud of thuds and a lot of cursing.
Harry, who had been having a nice, relaxing evening, blinked. "What?"
Ron guffawed. "I didn't know James had older women after him already. Who's this sexy young lady then, eh?"
Teddy, also laughing, shrugged. "When I was there the only young teacher was the Defence teacher, Mrs Adams, and I don't think she's quite James type, although I know all the boys in my year had a crush on her. I think she's missed the past month because she's having a baby."
"James's?" George asked without missing a beat and everyone except Harry, who was still shocked, laughed, though Teddy was shaking his head as he did so.
"It can't be this Mrs Adams," Harry said, mostly to himself.
"Can't believe your son would shack up with a teacher?" George asked, mock-sympathetically.
"I can't," Percy said sniffily. "Nor can I imagine any decent teacher agreeing to such a thing. That would be a shocking state of affairs."
"No, I can imagine James sleeping with his teacher," Harry said. "I just can't imagine him going for a female teacher. James has made it very clear that he's gay and not at all interested in girls."
There was a brief moment of silence, aside from the continued thumps and swearwords from outside. Percy choked on his eggnog, although whether that was due to the suggestion that his sixteen-year-old nephew would have sex with his teacher or because said nephew liked boys was unclear. Teddy had switched from shaking his head to nodding.
"So James has been hooking up with a male teacher?" Arthur clarified.
Harry gave a helpless shrug. He put down his eggnog he'd been holding frozen in front of him, then stood and walked over to the door. On the landing outside James and Al were still scuffling. They stopped and looked up when Harry opened the door.
"What's this about you dating your teacher, James?" he asked wearily. He could feel the concentrated attention from brothers- and father-in-law and Teddy behind him.
"He's a substitute," James said. "It doesn't count."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. Why had Molly thought it a good idea to keep the Firewhiskey for after dinner?
"Which teacher even is it? I hardly think Neville's your type."
James wrinkled his nose. "Ew, Dad, no, he's old. He's your age, isn't he? He's the substitute Defence teacher. Sam Clearwater."
"Penelope's nephew?" Percy asked. "He's a handsome, promising young man, if I recall correctly."
George leant forwards, his eyebrows raised. "Something to tell us, brother dearest?"
Charlie laughed while Percy spluttered indignantly. "Wow, James. Hooking some older hottie? You're doing good, kid."
"Certainly better than your father at that age," Ron put in.
"I always knew you'd be a heartbreaker," Bill agreed with a wink.
Harry sighed. Really, he didn't know why he bothered. At least James looked equally bemused, blinking up at his uncles while his brother squirmed helplessly underneath him.
"I'm going to assume he's not forcing you or coercing you in any way," he said, "and that you're being… safe. Just… don't get caught, please. Oh," he added, as an afterthought, "and probably don't tell your mother."
James paled rapidly, and, given his mother's temper, appropriately. Teddy and the uncles exchanged commiserating looks.
"Or your Grandma," George suggested.
Al snorted. James looked down at him, half-threatening and half-alarmed.
"Don't worry," Albus reassured him. "I'm not that cruel. Although I might be if you don't get off me."
James rolled his eyes and stood up, hauling his brother with him. Albus yanked away as soon as he was upright and made an elaborate show of dusting himself up, giving an entirely disinterested James a dark look before settling himself in his standard bored-Slytherin pose leaning against the doorframe.
"So tell me," George said, ignoring Harry's obvious discomfort. "How did you manage it, James? I tried my hand with several older witches when I was a lad and never got anywhere. What's your secret?"
"Yeah," Ron agreed. "I'd like tips too. Mind you, it's a bit late for me, but maybe when Hugo's a bit older…"
"I'd say it was a Potter thing," George went on, "but your dad…"
Harry groaned. He stumped back across the room and sank into his armchair, his head in his hands. Why was he the one being picked on when it was his son who was shacking up with his teacher? More importantly, why was he not surprised? By any of this?
Bill laughed. "I think we could all do with some pointers."
George gave him an incredulous look. "You? You and Teddy are the only ones who don't. He's not a Veela, is he, your professor, James?"
James rolled his eyes. He was starting to regret following Al downstairs.
Teddy laughed good-naturedly. "I feel a bit weird getting seduction tips from my little godbrother."
"Course you would," Al snorted, quietly enough that only James, who tensed, could hear him.
James was not entirely sure why Albus had a grudge against Teddy. As far as he could tell, the wizard had done nothing worse than not notice or return James's stupid childhood crush on him, be, perhaps, a little distant from his much younger godsiblings, and pass off some of most juvenile and harmless pranks as James's work – which Al himself had done countless times. James suspected that his brother was still a bit bitter from what he'd seen as his family's rejection after he'd been sorted in Slytherin and had chosen Teddy as a convenient figure of resentment. As for why he'd chosen Teddy, James thought that he himself had probably been top of Al's list and had somehow redeemed himself, so Teddy had been the next closest thing.
"But to have a teacher wanting you as a sixth year!" Ron said. "Merlin's pants, or possibly lack thereof. I'd have pissed myself with excitement."
"I have no doubt," Charlie said, patting his brother on the shoulder.
"Boys," Arthur intervened as Ron opened his mouth to respond. "It's Christmas."
"Mind you," George said slowly, settling back against the sofa, "I think McGonagall had a bit of thing for me, sixth year…"
"She did not!" Percy exclaimed.
"And why not, Percy dear?" George asked.
Harry, deciding that if you couldn't beat them you might as well join them, snorted. "Mate, McGonagall's more likely to have had a thing for me. You used. To drive her batty."
"Driving witches batty is all the rage, Harry, as you should know," George said. "How else can you get them interested?"
"McGonagall always struck me as a bit of a cougar…" Ron said thoughtfully.
Percy scoffed loudly. James and Albus glanced at each other and, in silent (wide-eyed and horrified) agreement, retreated quietly but quickly down to the kitchen.
"Oh, boys!" Grandma Molly said as they entered. "I didn't know you were inside. You're just in time." There was a thump from upstairs and she scowled at the ceiling. "Whatever are my sons doing up there?"
"Discussing James's sex life," Albus said. "Mmm, something smells good, Grandma."
"Thank you, dear," Molly said fondly. "What did you say about James?"
Albus shot the Gryffindor a look, silently asking him, how do you want to play this. James released a heavy breath and flicked eyes upwards, briefly. Al nodded.
"Actually I think they've moved on," James said, wandering across the kitchen to snag a mince pie, his posture relaxed. "I think they're talking about their own sex lives now."
"Should we be worried?" Ginny asked, sounding amused.
Hermione and Audrey had wandered into the kitchen carrying large platters heaped high with dishes and cutlery. Angelina and Fleur, who'd been cutting and stirring and seasoning, had also looked up, wearing identical expressions of tolerant amusement.
"Nah," Albus said. "It's all about how they couldn't get girls at our age."
"Uncle George reckons McGonagall had a thing for him," James said, his voice muffled by the mince pie.
Angelina threw back her head and laughed. "In his dreams."
"That seemed to be the general consensus," James agreed.
"Why were they talking about," Molly pursed her lips, trying to find a better word, "romance in the first place? Do you have a girlfriend, James? Oh, I knew it! Who is it? Abby?"
"Grandma," Al said. "James would as soon date Lily as Abby."
"He's not wrong," James said, "though I seem to remember you thinking that, Al." Al wrinkled his nose at the reminder. "I don't have a girlfriend, Grandma. I don't want a girlfriend."
He glanced at Albus, who nodded, and then at his mother, who smiled understandingly at him. If he was ever going to tell his family, and Jay had had his doubts about whether he would, now was as good a time as any. His uncles and grandfather knew, and they were never going to keep it to themselves – other people, it had been proven, were really bad at keeping his secret (James glanced again at Al and thought of his father), and honestly, James wasn't sure he wanted them to be. He didn't really think anyone in his family would outright reject him; mostly, he didn't want to have to deal with the inevitable media storm if a newspaper like The Daily Prophet got hold of the idea.
He sighed. "I don't want a girlfriend, Grandma," he said. "I'm gay."
Molly paused, a knife suspended in front of her. Ginny gave him a blinding smile and, behind the aunts' backs, James could see Al mock applauding him. He really wished he could give him the finger without anyone noticing.
"Well, a boyfriend then," the Weasley matriarch said, recovering magnificently. "You should get a boyfriend, James, it would do you good. You need someone in your life."
James stared. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it definitely wasn't for his grandmother to continue like nothing had happened. Albus threw up his hands in frustration.
"He's had, like, two already!" he complained.
"James!" Molly cried. "Who? Why didn't you bring them over? Two?"
A distracted flick of her wand sent a cloud of peeled potatoes flying at the window and Hermione, with an exasperated 'Molly!', had to turn away from the excitement to rescue them.
"We would have like to know," Ginny agreed, her eyes glinting as she serenely added cream to a sauce bubbling in front of her.
James groaned and dropped his head in his hands. Albus patted him on the back and tried not to laugh too loudly.
"Per'aps you could talk to my Louis," Aunt Fleur said, playing up her French accent as she always did in her mother-in-law's presence. "'E eez showing a leetle too much interest in zome of Bill's trainees. They are all much too old for him of course, and Bill and I would be so grateful eef you would 'ave a leetle word with him."
"I'm not sure James is the right person for that conversation," Al muttered darkly.
James sighed and flicked potato-y water at him when the women weren't looking. "Yes, Aunt Fleur. I'll talk to him. Not sure I'll do much good, though."
"Louis?" Molly asked. "He's far too young to date. He's only thirteen!"
"Zat is what Bill said," Fleur said calmly. Louis does not seen to wish to listen."
James rolled his eyes, scooped another mince pie, and trudged towards the kitchen door. Before he could leave the room, Ginny put her hand on his arm, stopping him briefly.
"I'm proud of you," she said quietly.
Albus followed James out, giving his older brother a dirty look until he killed his slight smile. Neither boy had really spoken to their cousins for years, despite spending every Christmas and much of their other holidays with them. Albus had a sneaking suspicion that James hadn't spoken to any of them at all since he'd started Hogwarts.
"Louis!" James called. He didn't seem to feel the cold but Al was shivering already, not having bothered to grab his cloak.
Louis had obviously been much more sensible. Not only was he wearing his dark Hogwarts cloak, but he'd also thought to put on his Gryffindor scarf and hat, pulled down so low that only a few strands of his mother's pale blonde hair escaped. James had said, one night when they'd been talking about houses for no real reason, that Louis should have been in Ravenclaw just for the colour scheme. Albus had said that anyone who expected Louis to sit and read quietly for hours together was living in a dream world. Right now, he was chasing his cousin Roxanne with a large lump of snow which might once have been meant to be a snowman's head. He dropped it when he heard James and came slowly over.
"Your mum wants to me to 'have a little chat' with you," James said.
"What? Why?" Louis asked.
Although Bill and Fleur's children were bilingual, none of them spoke English with a French accent – or French with an English accent. Actually, Fleur herself barely had an accent after living in Britain for more than twenty years. She just liked teasing her mother-in-law.
"She says you've been eyeing up unsuitable older men," James said. "She seems to think I am the right person to talk you out of this."
Louis blushed. One of the girls, probably Lucy, tittered softly. Dom and Victoire exchanged glances, their eyebrows raised, probably asking each other Did you know about this?
"Why? Because you've got a steady girlfriend?" Louis asked, managing to sound defiant rather than just embarrassed.
"No, probably because I'm gay," James said.
Louis gaped.
"Although why Aunt Fleur thinks he's going to be dissuading you from older men I don't know," Al broke in. "Considering that all the uncles can talk about right now is his illicit affair with our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."
"He's only filling in, how many times do I have to tell you?" James complained. "He's not that much older than me, anyway."
"Six years," Albus pointed out.
"Teddy's dad was thirteen years older than his mum and I don't hear you complaining about that," James said.
"Tonks wasn't sixteen," Albus said.
James opened his mouth to keep bickering, but Louis, who had recovered from his shock, beat him to it.
"I knew you weren't 'just friends' with Professor Clearwater!" he exclaimed. "I knew it! Pay up, Rosie!"
Rose Granger-Weasley trudged over, shooting James a sour look.
"Well, I didn't think our cousin would be dumb enough to sleep with a teacher," she muttered. "You just couldn't keep it in your pants, could you?"
"I think people are too interested in my sex life," James grumbled.
"Well, it's more exciting than any of ours," Lily said brightly, wandering over. "A teacher, James, how naughty of you."
He groaned and turned back to Louis. "Just… don't sleep with an older man until you're at least sixteen and preferably of age or there might be legal trouble."
He clapped his cousin on the shoulder and retreated gratefully inside, avoiding the kitchen and the living room to find the relative quiet of the bedroom. At least they'd taken his sexuality well, even if they all seemed far too interested in who he was sleeping with. Relatives, James decided as he slipped in his air pods and turned his music on, were far more trouble than they were worth.
