Author's Note: Content Warning for Child Abuse, Homophobic Language and Ginny Weasley bashing. This chapter is all from Harry's Point of View.

Chapter Four

The Burrow

Immediately following the events of the prologue

Harry

Harry looked after where his sons had fled and knew without a doubt that they were both headed straight to Hermione's house. He didn't need to worry about them; he knew they'd be safe there. He closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to find some kind of equilibrium in the chaos that continued to swirl throughout the Burrow's garden.

He joined Bill and the others who were offering Percy their support. He tried to ignore that his wife was noticeably not being supportive, standing with her mother, Ron and Lavender. They were all wearing expressions that reminded him of the way that Lucius Malfoy had looked at Hermione when they were kids. It was an uncomfortable comparison.

"And we were dating before the war, but then with everything going on, we split up and both got married. I certainly don't regret the girls, but I missed him, and it turns out he missed me as well." Percy shrugged, but smiled again when Bill offered his wishes for Percy's happiness.

"They're good kids," Harry added when there was a lull in the conversation. Percy looked at him in surprise. "Marcy and Damian Flint. They are really good kids. Marcy and Lucy are in class with me together. They've managed to keep things quite secret at school."

Percy nodded. "They get along great at home. In fact, they've insisted on bunking together despite the fact that Flint Manor has more than enough bedrooms for them to be separate. Lucy and Damian are not as close, but we're working on it. I've explained that I haven't always gotten on great with all my siblings." Percy let out a rare grin.

George guffawed at that and slapped his brother on the back. "Bloody hilarious, brother mine."

Harry laughed as well and offered his congratulations for what they were worth. It was hard to imagine the hulking man that was Marcus Flint and Percy together, but if his brother in law was happy (and Godric knew Percy and Penelope hadn't been) then that was good enough for Harry.

...

Sitting at the breakfast table in his cottage in Hogsmeade, Harry stared in shock at the Daily Prophet.

The Death Eater's Son and the Son of the Boy-Who-Lived:

Their Romance Scandal!

Lavender Weasley Tells All

How could Lavender do this? She'd always been selfish and self-absorbed, but to out her own nephew to the entire Wizarding community. . . He couldn't even form words.

When Ginny joined him in the kitchen after setting up Lily with cartoons and cereal in the next room, Harry was still staring at the headline. His coffee had long gone cold. He wondered how Albus must be feeling right now. Hermione lived in a Muggle neighbourhood, but they certainly still took the Prophet.

"What are you looking at?" Ginny asked him.

"The Prophet outed Albus. I can't believe Lavender would do this."

"Oh, I told her that she could," Ginny said, making her own coffee, completely unaware of the look of horror that Harry knew must be on his face. "They really need some money. Ron's salary really isn't covering all those school supplies. The Prophet paid really well for the scoop, but she had to go on the record."

Harry felt sick. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But what about our son?" He managed to force the words out.

"What about him?" Ginny looked at him in surprise. "Hopefully all the publicity makes him decide not to be a poof, and if not at least James appears to not be defective."

The word echoed in his mind. It continued to echo until it was in his Uncle Vernon's voice. It wasn't about Albus then; it was about Harry himself as a boy.

Defective. Burden. Useless. Freak.

Harry wanted to scream at her. He wanted to yell and break things. He wanted to curse her and send her to the Burrow. Instead, he dropped the paper in the bin and said, "I'm going out."

"Where are you going?" Ginny yelled after him. "We haven't even had breakfast."

Harry didn't answer her. He'd already walked out the door.

...

Today was one of those days where he wished that they still lived at Grimmauld instead of in Hogsmeade. He had to deal with the stares of the morning drinkers at the Three Broomsticks. Nevertheless, he was grateful Rosmerta let him use the pub's upstairs floo without making any comments.

He popped out in the floo in Grimmauld Place. The house was dusty and the floo left him much dirtier than he intended. Maybe the place did need a new house elf. He sighed. It couldn't be more than a thirty minute walk from here to Hermione's house (Harry didn't like thinking about her husbands unless he was faced with them), but he wasn't ready to go there yet.

He walked through the place where he'd once lived and felt like he was surrounded by ghosts. He strolled around the house a bit, remembering how happy they'd been when they lived here. Had there been warning signs about Ginny as a mother then? He didn't recall any, but they'd been babies. Babies didn't have opinions of their own.

Not for the first time, Harry wished Sirius was still around. He knew that Sirius would never have approved of Ginny's wish for him to cut Hermione out of their lives. Harry stopped and examined the wall. The Black family tapestry included Hermione now and her children with Draco: Lyra, Scorpius, and the littlest who was apparently called Cassiopeia. Harry wondered idly if the twins were on a tapestry wherever Nott had grown up. There was no one to burn Draco off the tree for marrying a Muggleborn, so there he remained.

Harry felt so conflicted, as though he was at war with himself. He'd find a coffee shop and think for a while. There was no reason to rush. Hermione had the boys with her and the one thing Harry knew was that he could rely on her to keep them safe.

...

Harry came through in the floo parlour at the Granger-Malfoy-Nott townhouse. Despite his stop for coffee, he didn't know what to say to his sons anymore than when he had left the house in Hogsmeade that morning.

"Harry," Hermione greeted him. "Hey. Are you here to get the boys?"

"Yeah," Harry said, instead of what he wanted to say, which was "ˆsorry. Ginny is a nightmare. I made the wrong choice. I'm so sorry. Please tell me what I should do. I'm at a loss here."

"I'll go get them. James is with the girls in the kitchen and Scorp and Albus are upstairs. Just give me a minute."

"Hermione, did you know?"

"About Scorpius and Albus? Yeah, we knew. Theo and Draco were dating on and off at their age, so they've been giving them advice, primarily around being discreet so no one beats them up."

Harry covered his mouth; he wanted to weep. He loved his son. He didn't always understand him, but Albus had been dealing with this for who knows how long and Hermione's husbands had been his only support. Harry felt like a failure. He wanted to be a better father and he knew that Hermione could tell him how to do that, but he was so afraid of what she would say, so instead he asked, "did you know about James and the girls?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "We didn't, but he was the only Gryffindor other than Nev that Lyra didn't insult in her letters home so there were some suspicions."

Harry nodded, but all of the other things he wanted to say simply wouldn't come out of his mouth. It was embarrassing.

James, always the obedient one, went straight through the floo to Grimmauld.

When Harry asked Albus to do the same, his younger son shook his head angrily.

"Is mum more upset that I was hurt by a family member or about the fact that Scorpius is my boyfriend?"

Harry wanted to weep. He wanted to clutch Albus to him and hug him so tightly that he never doubted again that he was loved by his family. "Fine," Harry bit out. "You can stay here until the winter holidays are up. The boys aren't sharing a room?" He glared at Malfoy and Nott, trying to hold onto all his anger, but it was harder than it should have been.

Malfoy just raised one eyebrow and Nott snorted. "Obviously, Albus has his own bedroom here, Potter. We have enough space for all the children."

Harry wanted to say so much more: thank you, that he was upset, that Ginny was to blame. But Hermione wasn't his friend anymore, so he kept his mouth shut, and for the first time in a long time it hurt that he couldn't confide in her.

Harry floo'd to Grimmauld Place, but as soon as they arrived he gestured to James to head outside with a tease. "Let's go for a walk."

"I don't really want to go home, Dad," James admitted as they walked through the Muggle streets together. "I definitely don't want to see Aunt Lavender."

"Yeah, me neither." Harry sighed. "What do you say to spending a few days at Grimmauld Place? It needs some work and I need a distraction."

James looked at him in surprise. "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Good." Harry nodded, too many things left unsaid on his tongue. He wished he knew how to be a better father. It hurt to think that Draco sodding Malfoy probably would have a better idea of what to say in this instance than he did.