Chapter 22: Sibling Rivalry

The Wet, cold weather of November faded into the snowier, Scottish kind of December around the castle, while Harry's mood changed for the worse. The homework had gotten considerably larger as Christmas approached, which made as little sense to Harry as it did to the other Slytherins, and he and Draco were forced to spend long hours in the Slytherin common room or Riddle room, finishing half-thought out Potions essays and Charms practice. Harry was told by a grumpy Ron that things were worse in the Gryffindor common room, and that people kept flying their broomsticks near, and throwing snowballs at the window that looked over the grounds, while people were playing exploding snap in all directions.

Not only this, but Quidditch Practice was becoming more and more common, which puzzled Harry, until he was told by Jake Wallace that it was good to capitalise off of the other teams' inactivity in this short downtime between the first Quidditch matches and returning to Hogwarts in order to better prepare for the upcoming match against Ravenclaw. This was not a terrible strategy on paper, though, as pointed out by Will Rocker, it was somewhat punctured in usefulness by the ever-rising amount of snow that was quickly approaching being a metre thick.

What with that and normal lessons, Harry barely noticed the days until the Christmas holidays counting down steadily. It was only brought to his attention by a jubilant Draco Malfoy announcing it in the Riddle Room after a particularly snowy night, startling Hermione and making her drop her books on the floor. As she picked them up, swearing quietly, Draco bounced about the room, apparently oblivious to this vague annoyance. When it came down to writing whether or not he would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, he considered putting his name down on the 'Staying' list, before being reminded that he had to spend Christmas with Lily, James and Liam Potter. His heart sank.

"Well, it's not that bad." Draco muttered to him after a painful double period of Potions with Lily snatching glances at him talking to Ron every now and then. "At least you'll get presents and all that. I have to spend Christmas on my own in Riddle Manor with V- You-Know-Who and Dobby, and I don't even get to celebrate or anything." Dobby was the Malfoy's house elf, a kind spirit, who, if you spent long times with in the same room, got really annoying.

Harry supposed he was right, but he was nevertheless apprehensive of meeting his brother in the flesh, rather than talking about him with Hermione, Draco, or even Ron. He found himself wishing, the night before, that the Transfiguration essay on the theory of removing claws and other sharp objects would have lasted as long as it could, giving him an excuse to remain up, and put off the day when the paths of himself and Liam Potter would cross. Unfortunately, the essay was a rather short one, as McGonagall seemed to have finally given in to the complaints about the huge amount of homework right before Christmas, and by five past ten, Harry had no further excuse to stay down in the Slytherin common room, and was forced to concede defeat, heading up to bed.

It took Harry a moment the following morning to remember why he felt terrible. He stared out of the window, which was more like a hole in the top wall that let light through, and suddenly remembered his last Potions lesson. He swore silently. He'd completely forgotten that today was the day when he would have to leave the castle and go to Godric's hollow. He groaned and rolled out of bed, making a dull thud, and noticed that his was the only four poster with the curtains drawn back. He got up, and put on his robes.

Since they left in the afternoon, the morning of the sixth of December was like a cheery, wintry sort of weekend, with people having fun and wishing each other early 'Merry Christmas's, as though they were trying to pass the time. Harry found that he had never wanted to pass the time less. While he was trying not to look at Lily at any cost, his eyes rested, and came to a halt, at Draco, who looked sulky and bored. He sighed, and turned to Ron, who was just passing the Slytherin table.

"Do you have any plans for the holiday?" He asked, in a falsely cheery tone. Ron shrugged.

"Head home to the Burrow," the use of words puzzled Harry, "and just try to pass through Christmas as fast as I possibly can." He would do the same, he considered saying. Instead, he replied, "Not looking forward to it, then?"

Ron shook his head vigorously. "And get bombarded by Ginny asking about if it's true that I really met you, and what you're like, and all those things? I'd rather stay here, but Mum threatened a howler."

Harry thought that that sounded like some pretty rubbish parenting.

…

"All aboard!" yelled Hagrid, slightly louder than was required, pointing to the Hogwarts Express, which appeared to have been cleaned as much as was possible. Every inch, from what Harry could see, was sparkling. If his bad mood permitted, he would have been impressed. Instead, when no one was looking, he showed it his middle finger.

"Harry," Hermione mumbled. "Let's go find a compartment."

"Right," he responded absently.

The bushy-haired girl frowned. "You'll be fine. I doubt they'll suspect anything."

"I sure hope so."

They found a compartment fairly close to the front of the train, and sat in silence for a while. Hanging out with Draco would have been ridiculously obvious, and, while they could sit with Ron, Harry frankly didn't have the energy to deal with him.

"So… looking forward to Christmas?" he asked, awkwardly.

Hermione thought about the question for a good minute, during which Harry noticed a few mountains off in the distance.

"Yeah, I suppose. I'll get to meet my actual parents, and… see you?" she finished, questioningly.

"Um… yeah." It suddenly occurred to Harry that he had not yet opened up about Voldemort to Hermione, and it would be a problem if she learnt about her parents. Perhaps it would simply be a question of arranging a meeting with them, but how to tell his father…

"Hey… I'll be back in a moment… loo…"

And he left a slightly confused Hermione sitting in the compartment, eying Ebony suspiciously. He could only hope that she wouldn't notice the absence of Hedwig. The first opportunity he got, he turned into an empty compartment, he pulled out some spare parchment and a quill and began to write.

'Dear Dad,

I don't have much time, since I'm on the Hogwarts express and am using the cover of going to the loo to write this, but I need you to remember this: Hermione doesn't know about you being my father. She needs to meet up with her parents, but it can't involve you.

Hope I don't need to explain myself further,

Harry'

He hastily finished writing, stuffed the letter into an envelope, and watched as Hedwig flew away. He walked back into the prior compartment, and noticed that Hermione was now happily stroking Ebony, and glanced up as he walked in.

"Great, Harry. Exploding Snap?"

…

He dragged one foot in front of the other, wearily. Did he really need to go to his 'family' over Christmas? Surely he would be able to… No. He couldn't think of any way to end that sentence in his mind. He definitely did need to see them. He had a whole cover story that he needed to keep to. He had already kept up the act of hating Draco for a term, he was too deep in to walk out now.

He groaned, as he noticed Lily walking towards him, out of a door further forward in the train, and waving at him. He waved back, forcing his face into what he hoped would come out as a nervous smile.

"Right, I'll apparate us home, shall I?" she asked, and, without waiting for another word, Harry felt the familiar tugging sensation somewhere around his pelvis, and he knew that they had disappeared from Platform 9¾.

…

They made a loud, cracking banging noise as they appeared into what Harry assumed to be Godric's Hollow. He heard a quickly hastened swear in a man's voice, and glanced up to see someone who appeared to be a much older version of Harry, except that his nose was a slightly different shape, his eyes were hazel, and he stood about a foot and a half above Harry.

James Potter.

Harry had just come to the realisation that he was staring at his biological father, when Lily reprimanded him.

"Language like that, James!"

"Okay, okay! Chill!" he exclaimed, sitting back down on his desk beside some rolls of parchment, a lamp, and several quills.

"Listen, I've got to get a whole bunch of stuff sorted out for the Order," 'of the Fried Chicken', Harry added inwardly, "And I don't need you lecturing me right now! Oh." he had just glanced behind Lily, and had noticed Harry for the first time.

"Ha- Harry." he said quietly.

Harry groaned.

…

He was sitting in the study on his own, and wondering vaguely what Draco was up to. James seemed to have gotten over the initial shock of seeing him, which- Harry thought fairly, was sensible. If he had had a son whom he had not laid eyes upon in eleven years, he would probably have had the same reaction.

Fair or not, it had certainly been wearisome talking to him at any point that day when he hadn't been working. He had constantly been asking questions about his childhood and time at Hogwarts thus far, which were easy enough: he had learnt his cover well, and he barely had to lie at all about Hogwarts, except not bringing up the Riddle Room, or Hermione in any detail beyond being a friend.

Unfortunately for his social battery, James asked these questions persistently, and Harry had to keep reminding himself that he was not a Legilimens, so he did not have to be straining the mental shields so hard.

Eventually though, James had been pulled back into his work by a small, brown owl with a few feathers missing, and Lily had gone out. He couldn't quite remember why.

Regardless, this gave him the perfect excuse to think over his thoughts, which was helpful, as he had a lot to think about these days. Hagrid's dragon-to-be, the whole Hermione business, heck, he was even still pondering the Riddle Room every now and again.

Despite everything, he was happy. He had made it home alright, and all questions had been deflected easily. He was convinced that Voldemort would have received the letter by now, and he was even starting to drift off.

Yeah, it had been a good day.

"Hello?"

He glanced up.

Oh.