"It's time to wake up!" the deep voice up the clock echoed through the silence, followed by the sounds of clanging bells at half past five.
With a yell, Harry tumbled from the sofa, and rushed to shut it off. He flopped onto the floor with a groan. He wasn't unused to jarring wakeup calls or the early hour, but he'd been sleeping much better than he ever had before.
Shadows towered around him in the dark room, inching forward from the towering trunks stacked all around him.
"Stay here," he hissed at the snakes as he got up. He tossed the heavy blanket over them and sneaked back up to the room he was supposed to be in.
The room was dark and cold, but the smell from whatever Alex had done had finally dissipated. It lingered, but it was bearable. And hopefully would be gone soon. Someone, the house elves most likely, had cleaned the bed off and replaced the shredded duvet. He barely spared the rest of the room a glance as he fell into the plush bed. Unable to keep his eyes open, he drifted back off.
A couple of hours later, he was the first one to the table. Mippy and Pokey had already set the table and were bustling around the kitchen. The morning paper was waiting for James, neatly folded on the table.
Once again, the tea was perfect. He added a dash of sugar and just a bit of cream, not enough to drown out the taste of the blend, which was far superior to anything he'd ever had, but just enough to make it smooth and slightly sweet.
James came stumbling into the kitchen a few moments later while Harry watched the elves cook. He was dressed impeccably in a black jacket that flared open around black trousers as he walked. A black leather belt wrapped around his waist. It was trimmed in silver, fastening diagonally across the front. Hints of red lining could be seen on the underside as he moved.
Unlike his clothes, his hair was even messier than Harry's own, and his eyes were bloodshot with deep purple circles beneath them.
He yawned heavily as he sat down at the table.
"Morning, Harry," he croaked. His voice was hoarse and scratchy.
"Morning," Harry greeted.
James didn't even glance at the paper as he set it aside. Instead, he poured a cup of tea and downed it in one gulp. Then he refilled the cup and added a splash of milk.
Harry wondered if he had ever heard of coffee before, because he didn't look as though the tea was doing him any good.
"How was your weekend?" James finally asked as he started on his third cup.
By then, their food was on the table. Mippy had added a rasher of bacon to his eggs and toast, which he was happy to have.
"It was fine," said Harry.
"And how was Alex?"
He was horrible, Harry wanted to say. He destroyed my room, he thought. Before he came down, Harry noticed the rug had been scorched and the sofa's stuffing pulled out. But Harry remembered what happened every time he tried to tell anyone about the things Dudley would do to him. "He was fine," Harry said instead.
James eyed him like he didn't quite believe it, but let the lie stand. It was a point in his favour.
They lapsed into silence as they ate. James watched him subtly. Or tried to. Harry kept track of every time his eyes focused on him. There were questions there, Harry was sure of it. And he got the distinct feeling that James didn't like silence.
Eventually, Harry asked a question, unable to take the constant looks.
"The tailor yesterday," Harry said. "He said he was fitting us for robes. I tried looking it up in the library, but I couldn't really find anything. What did he mean?"
Harry might have over explained, given more information than he wanted to, but the relief on James' face was worth it. He launched into an explanation of clothing in the wizarding world.
Wizards wore long robes, he learned. Traditional ones were closed at the front and went all the way down to the feet. From the way James described them, they sounded like a more elegant version of something Gandalf might wear. The modern style was basically trousers and a shirt with the robes being either completely open at the front or closed only to the waist in the way the ones Harry had been given were. The lengths of modern robes could vary from ending anywhere around the thighs down to touching the floor. Wizards and witches also wore cloaks over them, especially when out in public.
From there, Harry steered the conversation to Hogwarts. He listened as James described all the different branches of magic he would get to study when he started school. It all sounded absolutely fascinating.
It was an odd thing, to be included in a conversation, let alone be the sole focus of it. It was also nice, but Harry was still cautious with his questions. James was an unknown, and after Alex's abrupt change in the middle of the Quidditch match the other day, It made Harry even more wary of James.
But, he talked with James, even offering opinions here and they. By the time Alex joined them, they had found an easy rapport. Harry was actually laughing at some of the stories James was telling him.
Upon seeing Alex, James glanced down at his watch.
"I'm running late again!" he said and jumped up from the table. "I hate to ask, but please stay inside, Harry. I'll be back around five, and I'll give you a tour of the grounds then."
"I'd like that," Harry said honestly.
James grasped Alex on the shoulder and leaned down to whisper something in his ear. It made Alex frown and glare at Harry. Once he was done, James dashed out of the room. A moment later, Harry heard what he now recognized as the whoosh of the floo.
Alex glared at him as he sat down at the table.
"He'll see right through your little act," Alex spat.
Confused, Harry asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Everything you said yesterday, about how much you hate him. Now here you are cozying up to him."
"I never said I hated him," Harry pointed out.
"You implied it."
"You're delusional," Harry said and stood up from the table.
Alex growled at him.
Harry rolled his eyes. Dudley was much more threatening. "I don't have to put up with this," he said and left the room.
The storage room was exactly how he left it, down to the knocked over alarm clock on the table.
The snakes had wandered off, likely exploring more of the room. He settled in on the sofa and grabbed Potions Fundamentals, A Beginners Guide off the shelf where he'd stored it. It was the book he'd taken from the disused potions lab.
After talking to James, he was curious about the subjects he would be studying. The dry history books and confusing etiquette rules were getting a bit stale.
At precisely nine o'clock, Mippy popped into the room with a fresh pot of tea.
He sat the book aside, and asked if she could stay and help him clean out more of the room. It was cosy, but a little cramped. After a lifetime living in a cupboard, he craved space to move around.
"Of course, Little Master Harry. Mippy would be happy to help," he said in her squeaky voice.
"And could you maybe drop the little?"
"Mippy will, Master Harry."
With a snap of her fingers, the layers of dust vanished from the room. It was instantly brighter.
Together, the two of them moved more of the dilapidated furniture out of the way. It was infinitely easier with her help, as she could vanish the unsalvageable furniture or move things with a snap of her fingers.
Once all the bookshelves and overturned wardrobes were neatly lining the walls, they stacked the trunks up out of the way. It left plenty of space to move around, with more than enough space to reach everything. They even found an old rug, which Mippy rolled out beneath his little sitting area.
By lunch time, they were both satisfied with the arrangement. The elf popped away momentarily, before reappearing carrying his lunch. It was another soup.
He spent the rest of the afternoon poking through the trunks. He collected a few more trinkets and books to add to his growing collection on the shelves nearest the sofa.
When the clock informed him it was a quarter to five, he grabbed his teacup, and a couple of books, then relocated to the library. He could see Alex flying in the distance through the large windows.
When James poked his head in half an hour later, Harry was several chapters deep into History and Culture of the British Wix.
"My budding Ravenclaw," James said. "I thought I might find you here.
He sat down next to Harry and peered at the book. "I haven't looked at this since I was a kid," he said.
Harry glanced up from the book to look at James. "It's interesting," he said.
"That book. It's boring," James said.
"Well, it's teaching me a lot."
"Ah. Well." James faltered. "A lot of this is outdated. If you have questions, I can answer them for you."
"I don't know what to ask," Harry said. Not that he would ask even if he knew what to ask. And even then, he'd barely seen James enough to be able to. "I mean, I didn't even know about robes! How was I to know to ask about how clothes are different!"
It was a calculated risk, the outburst, and he watched James face carefully. He sat still, waiting for a reaction.
"I can see how that can be a problem," he said. His voice was full of mirth, but his eyes looked sad.
"Yeah."
James reached out and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. Instinct told him to shake it off, but he held it in.
"Why don't we spend, say, a couple hours a day, when I get home from work, just talking. We can get to know one another, and you can ask me about anything you don't understand," James offered.
All his life, it had been no questions, about anything, for any reason. Being encouraged to ask questions was a new and confusing thing.
Harry smiled slightly at him. "That sounds good," he said.
It seemed to make James happy. He let go of Harry and stood up. "Now, I believe we had plans."
Right, James wanted to take him on a tour of the gardens.
"It must have been awful to be cooped up inside all weekend," James said.
"I didn't mind," Harry said. And he hadn't. He'd rather enjoyed being inside all day. Outside had always meant weeding Aunt Petunia's garden, or tending to the flowerbeds under the hot sun with nothing but the water from the garden hose to chase the thirst away. Before, being inside meant endless chores and blistered hands. The entire weekend had been more than he'd ever dreamed of. At least, once he found a quiet spot where Alex couldn't find him.
"Well, you could use some sun. I don't think anyone in the family has been as pale as you since my great grandfather," James told him.
Linweald House was magnificent, but the garden was something else entirely. A sprawling lawn of lush green led from the edges of the house all the way to the trees that lined the edges of the property. Off to the left was a sparkling pond that faded into the tree line, and was filled with large plants Harry didn't recognize.
"It's something, isn't it?" James said from next to him as they walked down the wide marble steps of the terrace.
At the base of the steps were interlacing stone paths that moved across the lawn veering off in different directions. At the base of the terrace was a large flower garden, with one of the paths twisting and turning through it, before meeting up with the main path on the other side. Vibrant flowers and deep green foliage filled the area. Vines crept around on their own, reaching out towards Harry feet as they moved.
"We had to hire an entire team of herbologists to bring it back to life," James told him as they skirted around the edges of the plants. "When magical plants are left to grow wild, in fact become wild."
It was an interesting fact to know.
"Remus tends to it now. I've got no patience for it," James said.
"I'm not fond of gardening either," Harry commented.
James laughed.
James chattered away about the different plants, most of which Harry had never heard of. He tried his best to commit the names to memory, but there were just too many.
Beyond the garden was a disused iron and glass greenhouse with ivy growing up the sides. Dust and dirt layered the green-hued glass and the tips of the iron spikes at the roofline had rusted over.
"Our ancestors grew their potions ingredients here," James told him.
"Potions ingredients?" Harry asked.
"I'm not much of a fan, but our family has a long history as potioneers," James said.
Harry wanted to ask more questions about potions, but didn't. He also didn't ask to go into the greenhouse, which he desperately wanted to.
The path that had led to the garden suddenly shifted and vanished from sight as they moved past it. At Harry's gasp, James glanced at him.
"The paths move," James told him.
"Move?"
"It's an ancient defensive ward. Everything on the grounds can move. If you don't already know where you're going."
"Wicked!"
"It is. Someone can get lost for hours out here. From the house, they'll look as though they're wandering in circles, but to them, they'll be trying to reach the house or the greenhouse, and it'll keep moving."
"What happens if you step off the path?" Harry asked.
"You'd be trapped until someone came to get you."
"How does it work?" Harry asked.
"I have no idea," James said.
Harry laughed. He would definitely be trying to figure out how it worked. Images of a confused Alex spinning in circles in his bedroom flashed through Harry's head.
"But," James continued speaking, "as a Potter, and once you're added to the wards, it won't be an issue for you."
As they moved farther from the house, James got more excited. In the distance, near the trees, two odd looking white hoops standing across an empty space from one another rose high into the sky. They looked like overgrown bubble wands. Alex darted back and forth between them, looping through the hoops before racing back to the other end. He was astride the odd looking broom Harry had seen in his twin's bedroom.
"And this is our pride and joy," James bragged as they stopped at the edges of white grass.
White grass grew in an oval shape, ringing an open field of green. Beneath the hoop at either end, was a half circle of sand. In the center of the field ran a white line of grass, with a small circle in the center of it.
"It's the third largest private practice pitch in the British Isles. A little less than half the size of a full pitch, with one full size goal on each end."
He spoke with a reverence, and gazed not at Harry or Alex, but the pitch itself.
"Alex said you liked Quidditch," Harry said.
"Like it? Best days of my life have been spent on my broom. I dreamed of playing for the Magpies when I was a boy," James laughed. "The field was one of the first things I commissioned after we moved to Linweald."
James glanced up at the orange and purple sky and sighed. The sun had begun to sink behind the tree-line, which cast deep shadows across the edges of the pitch.
"I was hoping to get you up on a broom today," James said.
"I'd like to fly. It seems fun," Harry admitted. He wanted to hit himself for it, but James smiled widely at him. Never before had an adult looked at him in such a way."
"This weekend then. I can't wait to get you up on a broom again."
"Again?"
"When you were a baby, you had this toy broom. Alex was terrified of his, but you. You terrorised absolutely everyone with yours. Almost no one could get you off the thing without you having a full on tantrum."
Harry tried to imagine himself that young and happy, and got nothing.
He didn't ask about the bitterness that laced James' words beneath the bright smile as he told the story. He wondered if it was his mother that could get him off, but he didn't ask.
Conversation came easier after that, much to Alex's visible annoyance at dinner that night.
The next day followed a similar routine. He had breakfast with James, who told him a little more about what he did as an Auror. Once Alex came down, James rushed out the door. Once he heard the whoosh of the floo, Harry escaped down to the storage room that was feeling more and more like his own room. He stayed holed up there, reading about the world he'd been dropped into until Mippy brought lunch. After lunch, Alex always went flying for a few hours.
With Alex occupied, he began exploring the other storage rooms. He started with the one directly across from his, so he could keep an eye out for when Alex was done flying. After that, he went back into his hideaway with the treasures he'd found. He'd stay there until just before James returned, where he picked out books for the next day.
Once James returned, Harry joined him on the sofas in the first floor lounge, where the two of them talked. Mostly, James answered questions about the thing's he'd read that day. Alex joined them for a few minutes, before glaring at Harry and stomping back to his room.
Most of his questions that night were about potions. Since James mentioned that their family had a history with the craft, Harry had been more than interested. He'd even read a couple of the potions books that afternoon.
"Potions was one of Lily's favourite subjects," James said after telling Harry about a couple of the patents the Potters owned on potions. "First time I brought her home, her and dad spent hours talking about them. Mum laughed at me from behind her tea the entire time."
For some reason, it made Harry even more interested in potions.
Dinner that night was even less awkward, or would have been, if not for Alex.
"Dad's going to wise up to this little act sooner or later," Alex spat at him in a low voice as they walked down to the kitchen.
"It's not an act," Harry hissed.
"Sure," Alex drawled and shoved in front of him.
After dinner, Alex stomped back up to his room. James watched him go, but didn't say anything. Instead, he led Harry down to the potions lab.
"He hated me," Harry said mostly to himself.
"He'll come around," James told him. "He's just not used to having to share me or the house with another boy."
If Harry hadn't spent ten years living with Dudley, he might believe that, but he had. Of course, Alex hadn't physically hurt Harry yet, so that automatically made him less awful than Dudley. Harry could live with that, as Alex looked stronger than him.
They let the subject drop and turned back to potions. Apparently, the cavernous potions lab was original to the house, and other than cleaning out expired ingredients, James hadn't really touched the room.
"It's easier to just buy a potion at the apothecary than brew one. Some of them can be quite expensive though, so a lot of…less fortunate families will brew their own," James explained as he flopped down onto the ancient settee in the room.
"Merlin, this thing is uncomfortable" James griped. "If you'll be spending time down here, we'll have to get a new one."
"I rather like it," Harry said.
James made a face, then waved his wand at the settee. "Softening charm," James told him.
Harry turned away and took in the room. Floor to ceiling shelves line one wall, filled with empty tins and vials. On the wall next to the door were several dusty bookshelves where he'd knicked the book from. Beneath the windows opposite she shelving were granite countertops. Sitting on them were a number of things; knives, scales, little bowls, and rusty cauldrons. Across from the bookshelves stood a fireplace as large as the one in the kitchen. Inside of it was a large iron cauldron hanging from a hook.
In the center of the room, near the settee, were two pitted and stained wooden work benches with a stool at each one. They were empty except for a handful of black stones with strange symbols carved into them. Harry recognized them as runes, but not what kind they were or what they were for.
James moved around the sofa, muttering to himself and waving his wand, trying to make it more comfortable, as Harry poked around the room.
"After you get your wand, we can brew something simple together," James told him
Harry's entire face lit up. "Really?"
"Sure. I may not like potions much, but I am good at it," James said. Then he made an unhappy noise and cursed. "This thing is a lost cause!"
Harry laughed.
"I'm heading up to bed," James said a moment later. "Try not to stay down here too late."
"I won't."
James made to leave the room, then came back to the bookshelves. He stared at the titles for a moment, then waved his wand. A silvery cloud burst out from his wand and enveloped some of the books before sinking into them and vanishing.
"Just a precaution," James told him.
Harry made to grab one of the books. His hand kept slipping off of it. "What did you do?" Harry said, appalled.
"It's a simple ward to keep you out of the the more advanced books," James said.
Harry huffed.
At the look on his face, James said, "Potions are dangerous, and you're completely untrained. We'll see about removing some of the ward next summer."
Harry wasn't happy about it, but let it go. It was nice to have someone care about his safety, even if it was inconvenient. Aunt Petunia certainly hadn't cared about it when she had him begin cooking complicated meals at far too young an age.
It wasn't until he was getting ready for bed that he remembered his birthday was the next day.
Harry rushed downstairs the next morning, excited for his birthday. James had made no promises about anything. In fact, he hadn't even mentioned it. Even if he forgot, it would still be better than any birthday Harry had ever had before. There would be no endless chores, or too little food, or Dudley to terrorise him. No crude jokes about dead parents and how much he was unwanted. It was just Harry, the library, and the sanctuary of the abandoned storage room.
It was like the first morning all over again. The second he entered the kitchen, he came to a halt. The table was laden with a veritable feast. Every breakfast food imaginable was piled high on its surface. A sparkling white banner floated gently above the table. "Happy 11th Birthday Alex & Harry!" flashed in a rainbow of colours on it.
Sitting next to Alex's usual seat, was a strange man. He looked to be around James' age, and had light brown hair streaked with grey. There were deep scars slashed across his pale face, which were made even more prominent by his wide grin/ He had golden eyes with deep bags underneath them.
He was dressed in faded robes, the trim fraying around the edges. It was a stark contrast against James' pristine Auror robes, but still nicer than anything Harry had ever worn before he came to Linweald.
Both the man and James had party hats on their heads, which emitted colourful puffs of smoke from the tips.
"Harry!" the man breathed in a hoarse voice.
"Harry, this is your Uncle Remus," James said.
The other man, Remus, groaned, but didn't stop smiling at Harry.
"Hello," Harry said softly, a little overwhelmed.
If James had a brother, why couldn't he go to him instead of the Dursleys. It felt the same as having James show up, unannounced, back from the dead.
"You've grown so much since the last time I saw you," Remus said.
"Remus is my best friend," James explained.
And oh, that was somehow better and worse.
Before anything else could be said, Alex came flying into the room, a good hour before he normally would.
"Uncle Remus," he screamed and launched himself into the man's arms laughing. "I missed you so much!"
"You saw me barely more than a week ago," Remus told him.
"Moony?' Harry questioned.
"A nickname from our school days," James said.
They all sat down to eat, and Harry watched, enviously, and Alex, James, and Remus chattered away with one another. Several times, James or Remus would attempt to include him in the conversation, but Alex would jump in before Harry could get more than two words in. Not that he had much to add. They bounced from topic to topic with a rapid pace, talking about things Harry had never heard of.
He ate slowly, and just listened to them, contemplating how rude it would be to just vanish to the library in the middle of the meal.
As James got ready to leave, almost an hour later than usual, Alex turned to Remus and said, "Birthday flight? I've been waiting all year."
"For a little while," Remus said with a grimace.
"Well boys," James said, "enjoy your day with Remus. I'll be home early for your birthday dinner.' He turned to Alex, and said, "Don't wear our Moony out on the brooms."
"I would never!" Alex gasped in an exaggerated accent.
All three of them laughed.
Alex led Remus towards the back garden, vibrating with energy. Remus glanced back with a look that seemed to say, "I'm sorry," but didn't stop.
It surprisingly didn't bother Harry. At least not in a personal way. It was more the realisation that Alex had people other than James, while Harry barely even had that.
The library was quiet, and while Harry itched to spend the day exploring or holed up in his storage room, he made himself comfortable in what was becoming his usual spot. Alex deemed disinclined to put effort into locating Harry during the day, but he didn't want James to know about it. Sure, Mippy could tell at any time, but she seemed to like helping Harry with the room.
He was slowly figuring out James, and one afternoon with Alex told him all he needed to know. Remus was an unknown though.
He spent more time in the library than he had since that first day, before Alex found him. Mippy delivered lunch at the same time as she always did. It was a lighter lunch than that she had been bringing him. Harry had noticed that the meals served weren't as heavy and easier to keep down than the first dinner. Harry got the distinct feeling that she knew he wasn't used to eating.
After lunch, he picked up an introductory potions book, one James had recommended he read. He was fully engrossed in the text when Remus sat down next to him.
"You're much quieter now than when you were as a baby," Remus said.
Harry shrugged. Being quiet had thoroughly been beaten into him.
"It's different, isn't it?" Remus asked him softly.
"What?"
"Being here. James might not understand it, but I grew up partially in the muggle world," Remus explained. "It was an adjustment even for me."
"I don't understand anything," Harry admitted.
"It's hard, but you won't be the only one," Remus assured him.
"Alex said there will be muggleborns that don't know things either, but I'm not…"
"No, you aren't a muggleborn. But you were raised by muggles, in their world. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
Harry sighed. "I'm not ashamed. I'm lost."
Remus didn't get it. Harry had always been an outsider, something other, and he had never known why until now. Except now that he was in the world he always should have been in, the one he belonged in, he would still be something different. James' choices made sure of that.
Remus chuckled. "You're not lost. You're doing remarkably well, all things considered. And I understand more than you think I do."
Harry looked at him incredulously. "How.."
"Your face is very expressive right now," Remus told him.
Harry huffed. He'd spent years learning to school his expression. It was a necessity of survival, to not let the people around him know what he was thinking.
"So, you like reading?" Remus asked, abruptly changing the subject.
"I guess. It's been very informative."
"Informative?"
"Yes," Harry snapped. "I have a lot to learn."
Remus laughed. "A budding Ravenclaw then. Lily would have been thrilled."
"She would?"
"Of course. She nearly went to Ravenclaw. Has James not told you about her?"
"Not really. He's mentioned her a few times, but.." Harry trailed off.
"But?"
"He always looks like he's about to cry, so I haven't asked."
"Well, you can ask me. I promise I won't cry," Remus said.
"What was she like?"
"Beautiful. You have her eyes."
"I have her eyes?" Harry asked.
"You do. Though hers were never quite so bright."
Harry smiled. After seeing Alex and James, he had wondered where the bright emerald came from.
"Lets see, she was incredibly kind, and fierce. She had a temper that matched her fiery red hair."
When James came home a few hours later, he found them curled up on the window seat, laughing. Remus was telling him about James pining over Lily, even as she berated him, Remus, and a couple of their school friends for lacing all the cups in the Great Hall with a babbling brew.
"I thought she was going to curse me," James said, as he pulled over a chair and joined them. "And I loved her even more."
They all laughed.
Dinner that night was everything Harry had ever dreamed of. The four of them gathered around the table, which was full of every food Harry had mentioned in passing to Mippy, as well as what he assumed to be Alex's favourite foods. James and Remus shared stories of their school days, and of Lily as they ate. Not only did it make Harry feel warm and fuzzy, but Alex wasn't being rude or excluding him either.
Desert was a large chocolate cake with red icing for Alex, and a white cake with blue icing for him. They all got a piece of each cake after blowing out the candles, which ran across the top of the cakes when they tried to blow them out.
After that came presents. Harry hadn't been expecting anything, but James gave each of them a broom. The handle was a warm brown with a slight red hue, and had Nimbus 2000 stamped into it in gold lettering. The stiff bristles tapered into a point, and were wrapped in gold trim. Coming off the trim were small, matching foot rests.
Once Alex stopped screaming "Thank you," repetitively at the top of his lungs, Remus passed them his presents. He gave both of them books. Alex got a new release of his favourite comic series, and Harry got a Hogwarts prep book. He instantly loved it.
"Honestly, I didn't know what to get you," Remus told him.
"It's perfect," Harry said.
They relocated to the lounge while Harry put his broom and the new book into his room, since he couldn't immediately take them down to the storage room.
He made to join the rest of them in the lounge but he paused, hearing low voices through the door, which was slightly ajar.
"I hate him," Alex said.
"Alex," James reprimanded.
"He's weird, and doesn't know anything. He either vanished all day or reads all the time," Alex ranted. "He has no sense of fun at all!"
"Not everyone has the same definition of fun," Remus said.
Alex didn't listen, just continued ranting, his voice rising. "And he hates Dad! Which I don't understand, because he's been stealing you away since he got here," Alex whined.
"He's not stealing me away," James said.
"And then, not only did I have to share MY birthday with him, but he stole Uncle Moony from me today."
"Alex!" James snapped. Then in a gentler voice, he said, "I'm sorry you feel like I've let him steal me from you."
"Why do you think he hates James?" Remus asked.
"Because he said so."
"What exactly did he say?" James asked.
"I asked why he wouldn't call you dad, and he said that he didn't know you and you weren't his dad. He said his dad was dead, and why would he say that if he didn't hate you!"
There was silence for a full minute.
"He didn't mean it like that. All of this has been quite hard for him," James said. "Tomorrow, you and I will spend some time on the pitch, just the two of us."
"Promise?' Ales asked in a small voice.
"Promise."
Harry turned and went to the bed. There was yet another new blanket on there. Alex had been destroying them daily.
"It's always going to be just us," Harry said to Morgan after she joined him.
The snakes had found a series of cracks and holes through which they could move undetected throughout the house.
"Why should it be any other way?" she asked.
And why should it? He fell asleep curled around her with tears falling down his cheeks.
Thankfully, Remus left after a stilted breakfast. No one brought up Alex's outburst from the night before.
He escaped down to the basement the moment he could, and thankfully got away before Alex came down.
When Mippy came with his lunch, she also had several paper wrapped packages with her.
"Mippy has brought Master Harry's new robes," she said.
Harry smiled at her. The elf was smarter than she let on, bringing them down to him instead of taking them up to his room.
He tore into the packages. For the first time in his life, he had clothes that were not only entirely his, but brand new. Cloaks, Robes, trousers, and shirts in a myriad of rich colours and fabrics fell out of them. One package was nothing but undergarments and pyjamas. It was by no means a large amount of items, but to Harry, it was more clothing than he'd ever had before.
The thought of moving the clothes to what was technically his room was quickly dismissed when he pictured the ruined bedding and sofa.
Together, he and Mippy cleaned out the decrepit linens from the least beaten up wardrobe, the one with the cracked door and squeaky hinges. After moving it to the corner next to the sofa, they filled it with all his new things. Then, Harry hung the soft black cloak he found next to the new ones.
Unable to resist, Harry changed into one of the new outfits the moment she left. It was a deep blue with black trim and buttons that went from neck to ankle. It was the more traditional style, if he remembered correctly. Harry immediately loved it.
The rest of the afternoon was spent crawling through another of the storage rooms, the one between the potions lab and his hideout this time. It was the first room where he hadn't found anything interesting. Piles of lopsided and broken furniture and moth-eaten clothes were strewn about the room underneath a layer of dust.
"The colour looks good on you," James told him that night, right before he apologised that he would be spending the evening with Alex.
Despite promising to spend at least an hour with Harry answering questions, Harry didn't see James outside of dinner. Instead, he spent the evening holed up in the library.
The next day passed in almost the same fashion, at least until James returned home. Remus was with him when he came down to the library to check on Harry.
At dinner that night, James was a little more serious than Harry was used to seeing him.
"The party planner and staff will be here at nine in the morning to prepare for the gala," James told them
Alex groaned.
"Gala?" Harry asked.
"My annual Birthday Gala," Alex said.
"It's not a big event, just a few friends and allies, and maybe a handful of politicians," James assured him. "More of a fancy birthday party really."
It was more than a fancy birthday party. His formal dress robes were bright ruby red and silky to the touch. The high collar and stiff cuffs were trimmed in golden brocade. Golden buttons lined from front from collarbone to waist, where the robe flared out. It brushed the floor around his feet. The sleeves of the stark white undershirt peaked from beneath the robe and were fastened with golden cuff links in the shape of little cauldrons. The cuff links were given to him by James when he came up to help Harry dress. His trousers were a matching red and blended almost seamlessly into the lengths of the robe.
He stood between James and Alex, who wore robes of scarlet in a similar style to his, near the floo at promptly six in the evening the next night. Remus stood on the other side of Alex wearing mostly brown with white trim, though his were much less elaborate.
Across from them, directly next to the floo was Bucker, one of the house elves he had yet to meet.
Nerves ate at him as people began pouring into the room, one right after another. As each one stepped from the fireplace, Bucker was there to snap his fingers and vanish the ash from their robes. Some bowed to James, while others bowed their heads. All nodded at Harry with a "Nice to meet you, Heir Potter," or a "Welcome back, Heir Potter". All of them looked at him curiously, though no one commented beyond superficial greetings. In stark contrast, Alex was enthusiastically greeted by every last person. Alex bowed politely to each one of them.
By the fourth person, Harry had managed to figure out how he was meant to bow to them. By the twentieth, he had stopped stuttering through his "Well met," which was a traditional greeting for wizards.
An elderly man eyed him suspiciously. And a serious looking woman glared at James as she greeted them. She gave Harry a warm smile. There was a redheaded girl with her who glared at Alex in the same way the older woman glared at James.
There was an elderly woman wearing a frightening hat that eyed him closely, and the boy with her spoke with a stutter. A family with two daughters, one of which had a prominent nose and mismatched eyes, were immediately followed by a blond boy who glared at Harry and conspiratorially greeted Alex. A haughty boy with brown hair joined the other one a few moments later. The two of them waited just inside the drawing room, whispering to one another.
"Maybe now that he's to attend Hogwarts, Lord Potter will let the public see more of our illustrious Boy-Who-Lived," one man said. James grimaced.
"Can't keep him locked away now," another said.
The faces blurred together after that, and before he knew it, the last person had moved past them.
"Have fun boys, and try to behave," James said as he and Remus walked towards a group of younger men standing in a cluster near the bar.
Alex glanced between Harry and James then sighed. "Come on," he said.
The two boys near the door turned as they walked up to them.
"Harry, this is Ernie and Cormac," he said.
"Hi," Harry said.
"Harry, as in the squib brother your Dad's kept hidden for years?" the blond one, Cormac said.
"The one and only," Alex said cheerfully. Then in a quieter voice, he added, "Supposedly, Dad was wrong and brought him back like a week ago."
They all laughed.
"This is perfect! I saw Longbottom slinking outside," the other one, Ernie, said.
"Slinking? Longbottom nearly tumbled down the stairs!" Cormac said, making all three of them laugh.
"Oh goody," Alex said with a malicious edge to his voice.
Harry followed the trio as they made their way into the garden. All the while, thinking about the trouble Dudley would cause at Aunt Petunia's dinner parties. Trouble which was always blamed on Harry.
The entire area had been transformed. A large pavilion made of wooden posts and topped with white gauzy fabric and a floating wooden floor stood just in front of the greenhouse. Dotten between it and the terrace were dozens of small round tables with twinkling lights suspended around them. A couple of outdoor bars manned by house elves had large groups of people gathered around them. Trays of food and drinks floated around on their own, intermingling with the people.
Harry followed as they wound between the tables. Longbottom turned out to be the nervous boy that had been with the scary hat lady. He was at one of the tables talking quietly to the redheaded girl with a pile of food in front of them.
The girl grimaced as she saw them approaching, and the Longbottom looked as though he wanted to run away.
"So Nev, glad we found you," Alex drawled as he strutted up to the table.
"What do you want, Potter," the girl said.
"A-alex," Longbottom stuttered.
"I just wanted to introduce Nev here to my brother, seeing as they have so much in common."
Ernie and Cormac snickered.
"And what would that be?" the girl asked.
"Neville, meet Harry. He's a squib, like you," Alex said.
Harry froze. He wanted to run away, to disappear. He should have trusted his instincts and just left Alex to find trouble on his own. Now, he was being dragged into it. Being used to bully another boy.
"I'm not a squib!" Longbottom cried at the same time the girl shouted, "What is wrong with you!"
"Aw, don't be like that, Suzy."
"My name is SUSAN, as you well know."
"Yeah, yeah. What are you doing with him?" Alex asked her.
Susan glared at him. "Neville happens to be nice. Unlike you," she spat.
"I forgot, little Suzy likes squibs."
Cormac and Ernie laughed.
"I'm not a squib," Longbottom said forcefully. Or it would have been if his voice hadn't been shaking and his eyes filling with tears.
Harry contemplated running away.
"Really? Could have fooled me, what with Lady Augusta going on and on about you not showing magic for years," Cormac said.
All three of the boys laughed again.
"Come on Neville," Susan said. "I'm sure there are less repulsive people at this party."
As they stormed away, Alex shouted after them, "I just wanted to introduce you to my brother!"
"Babies, the both of them," Ernie said.
For a while, Harry continued to follow Alex around, unable to find an easy way to get away from him. Every group of adults they passed by fawned over their Boy-Who-Lived and Harry faded into the background.
When the malicious smiles came back, and they started in on the girl with the mis-matched eyes, Harry left. He'd rather be alone, lost amongst all these people than even be remotely involved with bullying.
He wandered through the party, snacking on various foods as he went. Most of the adults ignored him, which was perfectly fine, since he was so out of his depth. Eventually, he found himself alone at the edges of the pond. He sat on a stone bench with his back to the water, and watched the party.
"I'll just…" someone said from behind him.
Harry turned to see Longbottom looking around and moments from running away.
"Not Alex," Harry said.
"Oh," Neville said. He stood there fiddling with the sleeves of his robes.
"You can sit," Harry said, gesturing to the open space next to him.
"T-thank you," Longbottom said. "We didn't get introduced properly earlier. Heir Neville Longbottom." He held his hand out.
"Harry Potter," Harry said, shaking his hand.
"I'd gathered that," Neville said. "You and Alex are almost identical."
"Except for the eyes."
They both laughed.
"Everyone is curious about you," Neville said.
"Why is that?"
"You're a mystery. Lord Potter barely lets Alex out, but no one has seen you in ten years. Now you've just popped up at one of the largest Galas of the year with no warning."
"Ah. I was living with my aunt and uncle until a week ago," Harry told him.
Neville looked at him sceptically. "Lord Potter doesn't have any siblings," he said.
"My mother's family."
A beat passed, then Neville exclaimed, 'Lord Potter sent his heir to live with muggles?"
"Yeah?"
Neville looked as though he was going to fall over.
"Why?" He asked. Then blanched. "Sorry. That's rude, it's just…unheard of."
"James thought I was a squib,"
Neville looked at him with something akin to sympathy. "I know all about having people think you're a squib."
Harry interrupted him, "Alex called you a squib."
"Everyone thought I was. Even after I did some accidental magic, there were questions. I got my Hogwarts letter though," Neville said with a smile.
"I'm happy for you," Harry said.
"Thank you. But still, sending his heir as a baby to muggles because you might be a squib! It would be a scandal if anyone found out."
"Why?"
"It's just not a done thing. Really, we never know for sure until Hogwarts letters come. As a baby, it's impossible to tell."
"I figured that much out. I've been doing accidental magic for as long as I can remember."
Neville just stared at him. "So you're like, really new at being Wixen," he said.
"Something like that," Harry muttered.
"And you're the heir to one of our noble families. That's rough. And you said you only found out a week ago?"
"Yup. Didn't know a thing until James just showed up at the door. I was told he died. Didn't even know I had a brother."
"That's horrible!"
"Jame said I'll be fine because a lot of muggleborns don't know anything until they get their letters either, but.." He trailed off.
"The expectations for muggleborns and people like you and me are completely different though," Neville said, outraged.
It was a relief, to have the thoughts that had been going through his head since he read On Lineages validated. James had dismissed both attempts of Harry bringing it up. He wasn't worried about doing magic like James thought he was.
"I-if you want, I can help," Neville offered.
"That would be amazing," Harry said. "I have so many questions and James just doesn't get it! I've been reading all kinds of stuff, but I don't feel like I'm getting it."
"Well, you did really well in the receiving line," Neville assured him.
They went back to watching the party after that. Harry offered Neville food off the plate he'd brought with him.
"You're a lot different than your brother," Neville said after taking one of the little sandwiches.
"How so?"
"You're nice."
"He is pretty awful," Harry agreed.
They both laughed, then started talking. Well, Harry asked endless questions while Neville patiently answered them and explained what he could.
It was nice, until an explosion of confetti erupted in the center of the party. Screams and laughter echoed in the night. A moment later, Alex and his friends came running out of the crowd howling. James stormed up behind them, furious. Cormac and Ernie tried scattering, only to be met with their own furious parents. All three boys were dragged into the house.
"Watch, he'll be back in less than ten minutes like nothing ever happened.," Neville said.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Lord Potter always excuses what Alex does as mischief. Alex is awful, and Lord Potter just lets him get away with everything. Sometimes he even laughs about it." Neville looked stunned at his words, then stuttered out, "I-I didn't m-mean.."
"Alex is horrible," Harry agreed.
The party started again, and Neville pulled Harry back into the fold with Alex out of sight. They found themselves inside with more of the food, and Harry who was starving began to fill another plate.
"So the squibs found one another," Alex said snidely from behind them.
"What do you want now?" Harry asked.
"Oh nothing, just trying to alleviate the boredom.'
"Well, do it elsewhere."
Before they could devolve into an argument, Remus appeared next to them.
"James is ready for the two of you to join him for his speech," Remus said.
Neville left to find his grandmother as Remus led Harry and Alex to the terrace where James waited for them. Nearly all the party guests had gathered at the base of the steps.
Harry ignored the entire speech, just stood there with hundreds of people staring up at him. He was exhausted and ready for the night to end.
All through it, Alex kept pinching him in the side.
Once the fireworks went off, which were different from any fireworks Harry had ever seen before, the guests began to trickle out. People stopped by where James had them stand to say their goodbyes.
The only part Harry could remember was when Neville came trailing behind his grandmother.
"It was nice to meet you," Harry told him sincerely.
"You too. Can I write to you?" Neville asked.
"I'd love that. I've still got about a million questions."
Once Neville stepped through the floo behind his grandmother, Harry went back upstairs. It might have been rude, according to all the etiquette books he'd read, but Harry was too tired to care. He passed out on the bed without even taking his shoes off.