The night before his 15th birthday, Harry was woken up in the middle of the night by one of those deserted corridors nightmares once again, and punched his pillow in frustration. In theory, there should be nothing about it that bothered him so much – it was just a corridor – but the emotions connected to those dreams just wouldn't leave him alone, and it seemed to be getting worse.
Resigned, he decided to ask Alduin about magical ways to fight nightmares at breakfast.
When he did – not the most politely, perhaps, because he was still angry with Alduin – Alduin immediately straightened and grew serious. "What kind of nightmares, Harry?"
Harry, embarrassed, tried to wave it off, but Alduin was insistent, and so Harry finally muttered a description.
To Harry's surprise, Alduin's alarm seemed to grow at it, instead of abating, and he asked Harry for a pensieve memory of that dream.
Well, it was pretty much burned to his mind by now, and it wasn't like there was anything personal about it, so Harry gave it over without any protest.
When Alduin emerged, his face was grim. "What you keep seeing is the corridor that leads to the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry," he said. "I assume you had never been there, slipping away from a Diagon Alley outing or something?"
"No," Harry said, irritated. Why the hell would he do such a thing? If he wanted to sneak away, he would certainly not go to the bloody Ministry.
Alduin only nodded. "I will have to think about this," he said, "but I suspect it is no ordinary nightmare."
Of course, Harry thought bitterly. How could he ever have anything ordinary in his life. Even his nightmares had to be especially ominous.
They returned to the breakfast parlour in a glum mood, to find the post had arrived. Alduin found a thick letter for himself, and after perusing it for a while, is mood seemed to lighten and he said: "Well, Harry, your friend Miss Granger is certainly a most impressive young woman."
Harry blinked at him from his eggs and contemplation of special nightmares. "What? Why?" Irrationally, his first thought was that Alduin wanted to have an affair with Hermione, too, but he forcibly pushed it back. He might be frustrated with his cousin at the moment, but that didn't mean he still couldn't tell which ideas were completely absurd. In the absence of that, however, he was at a loss.
"When you led her to me a few days ago, she explained her issues with the Institute I run, and at my invitation, offered to send me detailed notes on its last year of activity," Alduin explained, waving the letter in his hand. "They have now arrived, and they are...extremely detailed."
Harry grimaced, trying not to show the relief he felt in spite of all his rational mind was telling him. "Hermione can be like that, a little."
"No, no, it was a compliment," Alduin assured him. "I honestly wish I had actual time to devote to it at the moment. As it is, I will have to forwards her notes to the institute director and to Anil Patil, but like I said...most impressed. If we all survive the war, I would be very glad to meet with her for a more profound discussion."
Harry really wished his cousin would not say such things so casually.
The bit about surviving, that was. Even his irrational mind knew Alduin too well to believe that a profound discussion would ever be anything else than just that.
After breakfast, Harry cheered up a bit when Sirius came over. As Harry's godfather, he was invited to the formal party as well, but he staunchly refused to come and, in fact, asked Harry several times if he was alright with having such parties in the first place.
He repeated the question even now, muttering: "I could always kidnap you, you know, just say the word."
Harry shook his head. "I really don't mind it. I see a bunch of people I'm not friends enough with to ask to the private party, so..."
"Yes, but most of those people are jerks," Sirius pointed out.
Harry couldn't help but laugh, thinking of Zacharias and Pansy. "Some of them are," he conceded, "but not all. The Bulstrodes will be here and the Shacklebolts, and lots of the younger kids – they're cute!" He insisted at Sirius' expression, "and- the Weasleys! Surely you can appreciate that, at least!"
"Yeah, but I can just go see them at the Burrow," Sirius replied with a shrug. "much less uncomfortable. But I see there's no convincing you, so come on, let's have a birthday one-on-one Quidditch at least."
That, Harry could enthusiastically agree to.
"You know," Sirius said as they walked outside to the lawn Harry usually used for this purpose, "your cousin is making my life very complicated! How am I supposed to come up with gifts for you when he already buys you everything he can? I'm stuck with the things I know he'd see as inappropriate, because there at least I know you won't get it double."
Harry suddenly grew rather nervous about his gift. "You didn't get me, like, a stripper or something, did you?" He asked with dread.
Sirius laughed. "No, though thanks for the great tip for your seventeenth. Nah, I got you a car."
Harry stared at him in mute astonishment. "What."
Sirius shrugged. "Consider it a back payment for all of the birthdays I'd missed. It's not like I know what to do with all the money I have."
"Sirius, I can't drive," Harry said blankly, still too shocked for anything else.
His godfather waved his hand. "You'll learn. I got the idea from my flying motorbike – first I thought of getting you one, but I talked it over with Remus and he said you might not appreciate it, but that you had lots of friends and maybe something bigger would be better. And I knew Arthur Weasley had experience with things like that, so I asked him for help and we put it together. He'll bring it to the party."
"Where am I even going to put it?" Harry wondered numbly.
Sirius snorted. "Not like there's not plenty of space around this house."
That was certainly true enough.
Harry still couldn't get his head around it, though.
It brought him back to his Muggle childhood more than anything had in years.
Most of his world now seemed to be completely separated form that, but a car – well. A car was something the Dursleys would comprehend, and a small part of him couldn't help being viciously pleased at the idea of them bursting with jealousy because Harry got a car for his fifteenth birthday.
The idea of the look on Dudley's face!
Maybe Harry should send them a photo – if he could find a non-wizarding camera somewhere.
He could ask Alduin...and he should also, now that he thought about it, really tell him about the incoming car. He was not at all certain Mr. Weasley would let him know in advance, and with the wards on the house, it would probably end terribly. However irritated he might be with Alduin, he had no interest in ruining his own birthday party.
Still, first things first. "Thanks, Sirius," Harry said with emphasis. "I'm sure it's gonna be incredible."
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Alexandra came from Spain to preside over Harry's birthday party, as, as she declared, her 'last party before my confinement'. She was quite far along by now, only two months left to go until Rowan was due to be born, and meant to use that as a convenient excuse for the foreseeable future. Harry's little cousins were not to be present – Alexandra would claim that they came down with an illness. That was a loss Harry felt dearly, but on balance, he supposed it was better to have them when he had more time to devote only to them, rather than at a formal party.
On the bright side, at least Melania wasn't present either. When he had asked Alduin if she'd be there, his cousin had given him a blank look. "Why would she be?"
"Because she is your girlfriend."
"Yes, and this is a formal Ancient family party. What would she be doing there?"
"Well, if she was your wife she'd be."
Alduin shrugged. "Of course, because she would be a member of the house of Travers."
"I'm so glad the presence of your actual wife doesn't limit you in any way," Harry couldn't help but bite out.
"No, it doesn't," Alduin told him firmly. "If Melania was from an Ancient family, of course she would be there. When my grandparents had lovers from Ancient families, naturally they came to the parties."
Harry simply stalked off.
He suspected it was the result of this conversation that, once she arrived, Alexandra came to speak to him. "Harry," she said, "Alduin told me you have trouble accepting his relationship."
"I do," Harry confirmed.
"Well, I simply wanted to tell you in person that I honestly do not care, and more, I am glad he has some support. I am not in love with my husband, and I love him enough to wish him all possible comfort in these difficult times."
"And what about you?"
"I never cared for comfort of this sort, Harry. While sex can be a pleasant distraction," Harry grimaced, as he always did, about hearing such things concerning people he was related to, "I always received emotional support from my friends, not from my partners – unless I am sleeping with my friends. And Patritia is still there for me, and I see her frequently, so I do not lack in this regard. Thank you for your concern, though."
Harry could only shake his head. He just didn't get it – how could Alexandra not feel betrayed?
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"So how did you do on your OWLs?" Harry asked Kiara as soon as he saw her at the party, knowing that the results had been supposed to come in just the previous day.
She gave him a relieved smile. "All right," she said. "I mean, it's nto a miracle or anything, but I did get a couple of Os, even, and I only failed potions, which is no surprise."
Harry grimaced in sympathy. If it wasn't for Miss Brigit's help, he was pretty sure he'd be on the verge of failing it, too. "And what about Maurice?" He asked. "His NEWTs came in too, didn't they?"
"Yes, and he somehow scraped three, to my shock. Though I admit he's been a little better about acting like an actual adult ever since he's been one."
"What are his plans now? I mean, he isn't dating anyone, is he?" From what Harry knew, for most Ancient family people, the plan right after Hogwarts seemed to be to find someone to marry.
"Nah, and he doesn't want to get married yet." Kiara looked around and lowered her voice. "He says that he'll see if he survives the war. He wants to fight on Dumbledore's side, and he's been arguing with mum about it – she says that if he insists on fighting, couldn't he join the Aurors or something? But of course Maurice doesn't want to work under uncle." She sighed. "It's also irritating because if he's actively fighting, they'll want to keep me safe at home, to be sure that at least one of us survives it all, and I want to help, too."
Again with the casual mentions of death. Harry wondered if it was different for all the people who grew up with the knowledge of a war in recent memory, a war where they'd lost close relatives, and who'd been raised knowing it would come again. Maybe for them, it just was a fact of life.
Harry didn't think he could ever accept that.
"I'm sure there'll be plenty of other things to do to help outside of direct fights," he muttered.
"Yeah," Kiara said, her voice full of disgust, "politics." Then she shook her head. "This is too grim. Come on, let's go find some others."
Whom they found first, once they headed towards where most Hogwarts-age people congregated, were the Weasley siblings, talking to Harriet Bulstrode – it seemed Ginny was properly introducing her to the older of her brothers.
"...now Bill is working at the London Gringotts, which is hardly as interesting," she was saying when they reached them.
Bill laughed at her. "I find it plenty interesting," he said with a grin, and Ginny groaned.
"We don't want to hear about your pretty colleague," she said with emphasis.
"Speak for yourself!" Harriet interjected, laughing, though she was also blushing a little. "I like hearing about pretty colleagues."
"It turns out the Beauxbatons champion stayed in Britain after the Cup and found work in Gringotts," Ginny explained to Harry and Kiara, turning to them upon their arrival. "Bill finds that to be a nice perk of his job."
Harriet laughed again. "I bet," she said. "She's so damn pretty, I wonder if you get any work done at all."
"Thankfully she's not in the same department as me," Bill replied, and they all laughed together.
"What about the rest of you?" Harry then asked the Weasleys. "Percy, I haven't seen you for ages, how are you?"
"Not very well, I can tell you that much," Percy said primly. "The scandal around Mr. Crouch is simply outrageous, and now they are investigating me because I did not report any strange behaviour on his part – of my boss! I ask you! It is all very irregular-"
"Aaand that's enough from you, Perce," Fred interjected. "Harry doesn't want to be bored to death."
"Yes, he would much rather hear about our plans to start a joke shop once we graduate," George continued this line of thought.
Truthfully, that did sound more interesting. Harry fought with himself briefly, then said: "All right, but then I want Percy to finish his story!"
And then, he thought, he wanted to watch the spectacle of Mr. Weasley delivering the car. If his life got to suck in so many ways, he would at least enjoy the good moments.
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The party was no place to vent his frustrations about Alduin and Alexandra, but the next time Draco came over, he couldn't help but share his concerns. None of his other close friends were really raised in a traditionally Ancient household, he knew, and so Draco was his best bet at figuring this out.
When he asked his nagging question about betrayal, though, Draco only gave him a confused look. "If you'd said yes to my offer two weeks ago, would you have felt betrayed if I then kissed someone else than you?"
"What? No."
"See?"
"But we wouldn't be married!"
"What does that have to do with anything?"
Harry considered. "Well, okay, not that much maybe – it's not like it would be that much better before the wedding. But we wouldn't be in a committed relationship."
"Neither is your cousin and your wife."
"They're married!"
"Well, yes, but marriage can sometimes just be a political alliance, and it's the case of your cousins."
Harry shook his head. "They're not some medieval king and queen...I see them together, they joke, they spend time together, they play with my little cousins..."
"Of course they do. What, did you imagine pragmatic marriages were all about the two people hating each other?"
"Do your parents do this too, then?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Of course not. My parents are in a committed relationship."
"See?"
"I don't. I know some people can't imagine touching another person without being in love with them, but from what you said this is not your case, so..."
"I can't imagine marrying another person without being in love with them!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "We're going in circles. You think marriage should always be for love, fine. Marry for love. But don't bloody push it on other people! Seriously, are you always so bigoted?"
Harry stared at him. "Bigoted?"
"Yes! You have this one idea of marriage and what it should look like and everything else is wrong for everyone?"
Harry struggled with this accusation, trying to find a way around it. "I just...what's the point of marriage otherwise?"
"Political alliance and ensuring your house continues," Draco replied with a shrug.
Harry couldn't help feeling that was just wrong. "That kind of seems to...devalue marriage."
"What? Why?"
"I dunno, just...if some people do that, then it no longer means that when I marry someone I'm telling the world I love them, right?"
Draco shrugged. "Well, no. It never did. Love marriage is actually a pretty new idea, it used to be about alliances and raising a family together for much longer. So, you know, it'd be fairer if your cousin complained that all of the people marrying for love are sullying the image of his perfectly respectable political marriage."
Harry frowned at this. He supposed it made sense. "I guess I just always thought families should...you know, love each other," he muttered embarrassedly.
"They do," Draco pointed out. "Just not like that."
Harry shook his head, fed up with the conversation. He'd have to think about it some more, but for now, it was only frustrating him.
"Let's talk about something else," he said shortly.
Draco raised an eyebrow at him – Harry really wanted to know how he did that, it was damn cool. "Any ideas?"
Well. Harry did have one, but it was too awkward by half to bring it up now, after their almost-argument, so he didn't say anything. He couldn't stop his blush from spreading, though.
Draco's eyebrow climbed even higher. "Oh?" He said, and blast it, but that tone, too! How did he do that!
"Nothing," Harry murmured. Blushing even harder and hating it.
"It doesn't seem like nothing," Draco insisted, and studied Harry's face for a moment, before saying, tentatively: "Did you...want to talk about something more personal?"
Harry bit his lip. He still thought it was awkward, but now Draco had started the conversation and Harry was already embarrassed, so he supposed he could just get it over with one go, and so he said: "About that offer of yours..."
Draco turned his whole body towards him immediately. "You changed your mind?" He said, not quite managing to keep his tone cool.
Harry swallowed. "I guess...I'd like to try."