It was easy for Harry to fall into a comfortable routine. Every few days, he would make his excuses and take a casual stroll towards the park out front. The temptation was to meet up with Enola more regularly, but the last thing he wanted to do was raise suspicion unnecessarily. With that in mind, they also changed up which days they saw one another, so that their movements didn't suggest a noticeable pattern. The level of subterfuge going into the interactions only made it more exciting.

But, once they were alone, Harry didn't focus on the planning that had gone into it, or the people he was potentially letting down. Enola would always be waiting for him, a blanket set out with an array of snacks and drinks. Once they grew more comfortable with one another (at least as much as Harry was willing to do), they abandoned the bench to sit on the grass amidst the picnic amenities, their legs occasionally grazing together that made Harry jolt up every time. And, if it happened to rain, the Tardis' wards protected them against the harsh weather.

At one stage, when the clouds had turned grey, Enola had suggested that they retreat into the ship and enjoy the warmth it provided. Harry had quickly come up with an excuse, a clear sign that he wasn't yet fully under Enola's spell. It was already a massive risk to be seeing her; willingly entering the Tardis would have been an act of foolishness of the highest order. He might have wanted to believe the genuine nature of her behaviour, but that didn't stop the nagging voice in his head (which sounded strangely like a mix between Matthew and Hermione) from keeping him on a safer path.

The only major concern was that, the more he spoke to Enola, the easier it was to fall for her all over again. Harry had assumed that his past feelings for her would have disappeared, turned sour by the anger he'd been consumed by. Instead, they'd evidently remained nothing more than dormant, waiting for a new dose of teenage hormones. And whenever the sun happened to catch her hair and make it golden, or accentuate the soft freckles around her nose, he did well not to swoon there and then.

"A basilisk?"

Harry had been staring, which had grown to be his favourite pastime whenever he sat beside Enola. Her question was enough to break him out of the reverie, though it came too late. She'd seemingly picked up on his quiet stupor and was smiling to herself. Harry reckoned that it wasn't the smartest policy to make it so obvious that he liked her, as if that would give her an element of power over him. But it was one thing to come to that conclusion and another matter entirely to change things.

"You managed to kill a basilisk?" Enola added, coming to the realisation that he needed an extra helping hand.

"Well…Hermione held the sword," Harry replied sheepishly, never one to show off, even when it might have scored him points with a pretty girl.

Enola huffed in laughter. "You know, I wouldn't dare believe some of the stories you told me if I hadn't seen your life in action."

"Trust me, the feeling's mutual. Sometimes, I'll think back on the things I've done and just…shake my head at how absurd they are. Stolen artefacts, ancient beasts, an escaped prisoner who turned out to be my godfather, a deadly tournament, losing my best friend, getting kidnapped, that same best friend coming back to life." He risked a glance at his companion. "Meeting you."

She smirked. "Oh, so I'm absurd, am I?"

His cheeks quickly coloured. "No! That's…not what I meant! You're twisting my words."

Enola reached out to place a comforting hand on his arm, and the spark of electricity that resulted was enough to stop Harry from rambling any further. When they'd first started their secret hang-outs, there'd been a concerted effort from both of them to maintain a certain level of distance. For Harry, that had all been about keeping himself as safe as possible, knowing that physical touch was the easiest way she could curse him. In Enola's case, she'd initially respected those boundaries, as if that would convince Harry of her sincerity.

But, as their meetings became more frequent and open, the touches were growing more regular. It felt like a perfectly natural progression of whatever they were doing, and Harry's ability to nip it in the bud was steadily getting weaker. She'd done nothing to make him suspicious of her intentions, so wasn't he allowed to enjoy the contact? As a teenage boy - nearly a man - it would have taken an almighty strength of will to push her away. It was one he'd often possessed in difficult situations, but he was found wanting whenever Enola was involved.

"You're not absurd," Harry corrected, regaining some of his senses. "You…confuse me just as much as all those other events in my life."

"Is that better?" she wondered, wrinkling her nose.

"It means I'm yet to make up my mind about you."

"I'll take that as a win. There was a time not too long ago when your feelings for me were set in stone. In that you couldn't stand the sight of me. If you're now confused, then that means I'm making progress. And I'm willing to keep plugging away."

"Why? Why go to all this effort?"

"Because, believe it or not, I like you, Harry. If I'm confusing, then you're complex, and that feels like a perfect combination. You're the one person who's treated me like any other person. Matthew, Dumbledore…all the people on your side…they view me in the context of the past. Voldemort only saw me as a tool that could be used to his advantage. You, Harry Potter, went to the effort of getting to know me. I don't want to throw that away, frankly. I don't want to lose the one person I could rely on."

"So it's not just about clearing your name?"

"I'm not innocent, if that's what you're asking. I did help Voldemort get into Hogwarts, even if I thought it would work out in your favour. And I did stand by as mine and Matthew's families began to tear each other apart. But I was just a kid. Matthew wasn't able to stop it, so why should I be scarred by different standards? I want a chance to prove myself. I thought I'd done that with the horcrux, but I suppose there's been a few backwards steps since then."

"That's an understatement if there ever was one."

"I just don't seem to get marks for trying. At least not with anyone but you. Matthew's opinion of me must have coloured their view."

"Can you blame them?"

"Not especially. But it's not as if Matthew's perspective is the definite article. He's dictated by biases just like any other person."

"Why don't you tell me about him? What he was like when you knew him. I've always wondered. As you can imagine, he's annoyingly tight-lipped about his childhood, even after all this time."

"Is it common practice to talk so much about other people whilst on a date?"

Harry had just been about to reach for a pastry when his hand stopped. "Is this a date?"

Enola froze just as quickly. "...should we just put that down to a poor choice of words?"

"I think that'd be best. Before my heart gives out."

"Does dating me scare you that much?"

"Absolutely."

"Is that a good or bad sign?"

"Probably a bit of both."

Despite the risk of awkwardness that had grown around them, Harry still found himself smiling at Enola. It was slightly tense or likely a touch terrifying from her perspective, but it was a genuine expression all the same. Because the notion of dating Enola - and her seemingly wanting that too - sent those infuriating butterflies fluttering through his chest that signalled just how eager he was for that to happen. And how scared he was of what would happen if they did make that decision.

"I wish I could say that Matthew hasn't changed from the boy I knew," Enola said, steering them to more comfortable territory. "In many respects, he hasn't. He's still brilliant, quick witted, endlessly curious and more than a match for me. But he's no longer as trusting as he once was. He's colder. Harsher. Perhaps that's just an element of him growing up."

"It took three years before he trusted me enough to talk about his background," Harry admitted. "And I still get the occasional detail I've never heard before."

"The Karstarks and Mormonts weren't necessarily rivals in our community, but they weren't exactly close friends either. I imagine that, when Matthew and I bonded, there were thoughts that both families could finally find peace. Looking back, I realise that my parents' insistence on our friendship wasn't quite as wholesome as I believed. Because the closer I grew to Matthew…"

"...the closer they were to getting access to a Tardis."

"It wasn't as if Matthew ever told me about how such a ship worked or how it could be constructed. We were children. We were just swept away in the magic of it all, enjoying having this endless chamber at our disposal for whatever adventures we could imagine. But, with the naivety of a young girl, I must have blurted out enough details for my parents to figure out what was needed. There was no going back after that. The Mormonts saw it as a slight on their honour. The Karstarks defended their right to pursue any sort of magical development."

"And then the fighting started."

"And I didn't see Matthew again, until a recognisable young man was staring at me with hatred in his eyes in what you deem the present day. It's only because of all that time I spent in Matthew's Tardis that I was able to pilot my own."

"Did you…ever tell your parents that you were leaving?"

"They would have stopped me. Once Matthew wasn't useful in their opinion, they didn't understand my need for that friendship."

"You left them behind to find him?"

"To make amends, like I keep saying. If the Karstarks and Mormonts couldn't come together in the past, then maybe the two of us could change the narrative. You can see, then, why I'm not giving up. I put a lot on the line in the hope of making that happen. One day, I'll change Matthew's mind. I'll win him over. I have to."

"I just don't get why you stayed with Voldemort, if Matthew was your target."

"Haven't I already explained that to you? I was in a new world with no bearing on society. I knew that, under Voldemort's banner, I was surrounded by dark magic. I had to survive long enough to see him again. Then you arrived on the scene. I learnt of the war and Voldemort's plans…and I realised that doing my part to stop him was my best shot at winning back Matthew's affection. As if the Tardis had brought me there for that very reason, landing the opportunity right in my lap."

"Affection?" Harry echoed carefully.

She rolled her eyes. "Is that really what you're focusing on?"

"It seems like an important point from where I'm sitting."

"I don't plan on stealing Matthew from Hermione, if that's what you're thinking."

"Good. If just because I'd have to back Hermione in a fight."

Enola arched an eyebrow. "Are you doubting my skills?"

"Simply acknowledging Hermione's skills. Especially when Matthew's on the line."

"Then it's a good job that my attention has been directed elsewhere."

Harry swelled with pride. "You're not just saying that?"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't mean it."

He could feel himself sinking deeper into her company, the two of them being pulled together by some unseen force. Having already kissed Enola, Harry was eager to experience it all over again. But he was wise enough to shake himself out of the stupor, standing up before he did something he regretted. If Enola was disappointed by his decision, then she didn't show it. She simply matched his movements, doing little to pressure Harry into anything.

"I should probably be heading back," he said in a rush. "I don't want Sirius and Remus asking questions. I think they're already cottoning on to the fact that something is going on but, so far, they're giving me the space to work it out on my own. I doubt that'll last, though."

"It's your birthday soon, isn't it?" Enola blurted out, taking him by surprise.

"Uh…yeah…they're planning some sort of party that I'm not allowed to know the details about. I wish I could invite you but…"

"...but I'd ruin the atmosphere, I know. But maybe you'll be able to slip away? If just for a short while. I'll be waiting here, as always. I'm hoping that my present can be the pick of the bunch."

xxxxxxxxxx

"So…I've heard there's a bit of romance going on between the two of you…"

Harry looked up from his dinner plate in alarm following Sirius' teasing question. He was only slightly relieved to discover that it wasn't directed at him, but at their guests for the evening. As previously planned, Draco had agreed to once again visit Grimmauld Place, a state of affairs that neither of them would have believed possible just a few years previous. Only this time, he'd brought Daphne along for the ride, seeing as she'd been acting as his host for the summer.

Following Sirius' change in conversation, Harry had initially feared that he and Remus had found out about Enola's repeated visits and he'd braced himself for whatever punishment was heading his way. Instead, it was the two guests who were facing the brunt force of Sirius' curiosity, and the Slytherin couple squirmed uncomfortably in their seats. Harry might have revelled in their unease, if he hadn't known that some form of retribution would be waiting in his future, seeing as he was the one who'd let slip about the blossoming relationship.

Remus put down his cutlery. "Have a bit of tact, Sirius!"

"I'm making conversation!" the other man argued defiantly. "And I've never been able to resist a dash of gossip." He waved a fork at their visitors. "You'll understand that I don't get a lot of juicy tidbits around here. Remus and Harry are always at Hogwarts, and I'm left waiting for the tiny morsels of information they give me. So when Harry mentioned before you got here that you were an item, I couldn't resist."

Harry was sinking deeper into his chair, hoping that the plate would obscure his face from view. If the pair hadn't realised he was at fault, then they knew where the blame lay now. The evening had been going so well too. The discussions had been easy and free-flowing, ranging from chats about school topics to the state of wizarding society. They'd made it to dessert without any major faux pas, but Harry should have known that things were never going to be that easy.

Especially if Sirius Black had anything to do with it.

"We're…we're not together," Draco scrambled to say, after shooting a glare at Harry.

Remus held up a hand. "There's no need to even talk about this. It's none of our business. And Sirius is just being his usual irritating self, looking to wind you up."

"Well, he is a Slytherin," Sirius quipped. "It's only natural that I'd want to hunt a snake or two."

"We're only not together because Draco hasn't plucked up the courage to ask me yet," Daphne said.

All attention was quickly placed on the blonde-haired girl, who'd folded her arms and sat back in her chair in defiance. Sirius' eyes flashed with delight, whilst Harry did well not to snigger into his cheesecake. Draco, on the other hand, looked absolutely mortified by the development, his expression a mix of pure frustration and deep embarrassment. Harry had to commend Daphne, with the young woman rising in his estimations - if she wanted something, she was going to work to get it, and he could only respect that attitude.

He never would have expected to be so willingly complimenting a Slytherin student for being so…Slytherin.

"I mean, I provided a proverbial shoulder for him to cry on," Daphne pressed on. "After everything he's been through, I could understand that he wouldn't want to rush into anything. But then I invited him to my home and I'm still waiting for some progress."

"You…you never said anything," Draco sputtered.

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm not begging. If you can't see what's right in front of you, then that's not my problem."

"But I can! I can see what's right in front of me. I just…didn't want to assume."

"It sounds to me as if you could do with an injection of bravery," Sirius commented. "It's a good job you're surrounded by Gryffindors, then."

"I don't really feel that lucky right now, to be honest."

"Does this mean that you want to be together?" Daphne asked the boy closest to her.

"Of course I do!"

"...good. Then we're in agreement."

Draco's eyes were wide as he processed what was going on. "...good."

Harry could only sit and watch, trying to figure out whether he'd paid for such glorious entertainment. He knew that Matthew was going to be insanely jealous when he heard about the meal's fortunes. Now that Daphne and Draco had come to an abrupt conclusion, there was an awkward air that filled the room, with no one knowing what to say next. If anything, Draco looked as if he wanted to get out of there, but that was probably because he wanted to explore what his new relationship had to offer.

"Good," Sirius repeated, clapping his hands together.

"I didn't expect you to have such a vested interest in teenage angst," Remus remarked.

"I normally wouldn't. But, as the head of the Black family, I've got certain responsibilities. Namely, ensuring that families under my banner continue to prosper. With the Malfoys destroying themselves from within - no offence, Draco - our friend here is the last viable suitor in my opinion. That means he needs a good match. And I can think of no one better than Miss Greengrass, who's already proved just what sort of fire she has inside her."

"Maybe we should hold off before we bring up marriage. Otherwise I think they might explode."

"Or maybe we could turn the tables, somewhat," Draco suggested. "After all, your biggest responsibility is to ensure that Harry has a suitable match."

Harry blanched. He should have known that the Slytherin would get his revenge. He'd just hoped that it would come at a later date, when Sirius and Remus weren't involved. That being said, his godfather seemed to be struggling just as much, having not expected his teasing to be thrown right back at him. The only person who looked to be enjoying the meal, besides Draco and Daphne, was Lupin, who leaned back in his chair to savour the chaos unfolding.

Sirius composed himself. "You're quite right."

Harry practically snapped his neck to glare at the older man. "He is?"

"Of course. We've got to start planning for the future."

"There's a major roadblock in that regard, if you haven't already noticed."

"Yes, but if we start imagining what the future will look like, then we'll fight even harder to ensure it happens. A part of that revolves around ensuring the Potter name continues for another generation."

"He's always been close to Granger," Draco pointed out, delighting in the torture.

"But Matthew beat him to the punch," Daphne added, a sly smirk on her face. "So we're all out of options. Unless you want to duel Draco for my honour, Harry."

She winked at him and Harry was sure that she was just doing it to further mess with him, as well as getting a rise out of her newly-official boyfriend. He wouldn't have minded the chance to fight Draco, if just to see him end up on his backside once again. But then his palms were growing alarmingly sweaty, which meant it might have been difficult to clutch his wand. And it wasn't as if he wanted to be with Daphne, despite her razor sharp wit and devastatingly good looks.

There was someone else who fit the bill.

It was the main cause for Harry's fitful behaviour, in truth. He didn't know much about wizarding society, particularly when it came to the richer families. With the Potter name carrying such weight, marriage was going to be a hot topic. It would be front page news, something he shouldn't have been unaccustomed to. But when he thought about Enola and how she would be his pick for a partner, he was left wondering whether that was even possible. It wasn't just about the mistrust still surrounding her. As a stranger, would she simply be viewed as unsuitable to be his wife?

And, regardless, he shouldn't have been thinking about marriage!

He hadn't even made it to his 17th birthday yet!

"Perhaps that will be his birthday present," Sirius mused, as if he were reading his mind. "A pretty suitor might fall into his arms. Or she might even jump out of the cake!"

With Enola having promised an exciting present, Harry wasn't certain that that was out of the realms of possibility.

xxxxxxxxxx

There had been a time, not too long ago, when Harry didn't celebrate his birthday. The Dursleys either didn't remember or didn't care enough about him to make any acknowledgement of each milestone that passed by. As a child, he'd come to the conclusion that the extent of his celebrations would revolve around quietly patting himself on the back for making it another year, and then pretending that it was just another day.

As Harry stood in the living room of Grimmauld Place, the difference couldn't have been more noticeable.

There were, of course, the people he'd come to rely on. Sirius and Remus had no excuse for not turning up to his party. Matthew and Hermione had been telling them about their trip to France, including how Matthew had caused a small avalanche after falling down the ski slope. The Grangers had gifted him an array of French chocolates, though they advised him to eat them in moderation, to protect their roles as dentists. And Hagrid had banged his head on the doorframe at least three times already.

Then there were the new additions to his life, the ones he really couldn't have seen coming. Despite their romantic embarrassment, Draco and Daphne had returned. Who, Harry noted, were constantly holding one another's hand. Ginny and Neville had arrived too, with the celebrations marking the latter's birthday (the day previous) at the same time. He'd gone from having no one, to a room full of people, all of whom wanted to be with him.

"We may have made a trip to Beauxbatons," Hermione was saying as they dragged Harry towards the corner of the room. "Not that my parents strictly know about that. They didn't want us to be working on holiday."

Harry brought his eyebrows together. "Working?"

"Diplomatic relations," Matthew explained, waggling his eyebrows. "Dumbledore once brought up how the other big magical schools across the world could support us if things get really bad. Since we were in France, we thought we'd drop by for a visit."

"Did Dumbledore put you up to this?"

"Do you really think I'd have followed his orders? The best thing about the meeting was that he wasn't involved. A subtle way of sticking it to him."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "As well as getting a taste of what wizarding culture is like over there. You should have seen it, Harry. That school is gorgeous. To say it was ornate doesn't do it justice."

Harry's stomach tightened as he listened to their story. The three of them had always done everything together, so to hear that they'd gone off on their own left him with a sinking feeling. Was it a sign of things to come? What hurt most of all was that it was the first time that he'd even been told about the excursion, as if they'd purposefully kept him out of the loop. He'd always heard about friends drifting apart, but he'd never imagined that it would happen to them.

"You're right," he murmured dejectedly. "I would have liked to have seen it. But I obviously didn't get an invite."

"We wanted to!" Hermione quickly interjected, lifting up his lowered chin. "But Sirius wanted you to have a normal break. He asked us not to bring it up."

"He said that?"

Harry glanced across the room to find his godfather. Sirius was currently dealing with an emotional Hagrid, who was wailing about how much Harry had grown up in the years they'd known one another and how he couldn't believe that the little baby he'd dropped off at Privet Drive was now a young man. He might have had sympathy for Sirius in having to deal with the half giant's tears, but there was a bitter frustration that took over. He'd accepted that Sirius wanted the summer to be perfect, but he hadn't expected that to extend to his friends too.

"And we agreed," Matthew replied. "In the end, at least. You've got a lot on your plate, so we thought we'd take on some of the responsibility for a change. It's a team effort. You can't be everywhere all at once."

"Which is why it's beneficial your group seems to be expanding," Hermione said. "More hands on deck for whatever life throws at us."

"And would you have really wanted to be with us? In a country famous for love and romance? We would have been unbearable."

Harry grimaced. "Maybe it was a blessing."

"But speaking about love and romance…"

His eyes narrowed. "What did you do?"

"I'm completely innocent." Matthew couldn't have looked more guilty if he'd tried. "Beauxbatons didn't roll out the gold carpet for us, but word still spread that we were there. And one student in particular really took a keen interest."

Hermione gave him a shove. "What Matthew's getting at is that Margot says hi."

Harry's mouth went dry. "Margot?"

The first girl he'd truly ever had any romantic interest. The French visitor had captured his heart during their Fourth Year and, whilst things hadn't ended as well as he'd hoped, she'd still been his first kiss. That meant something. He'd been able to move on since then, thanks in huge part to all the distractions that seemed to be put in his path, but that didn't mean that he didn't sometimes wonder what had happened to her.

It appeared that Margot had the same thoughts.

Matthew was grinning wolfishly. "You look like a fish out of water."

"It's sweet," Hermione argued.

"He'd just better learn how to talk again before he sees her."

That brought Harry back to the present. "What do you mean? Why would I be seeing her again?"

"Sirius might have jurisdiction over you right now but, once you're at Hogwarts, you're our responsibility. He won't stop us going on a few trips, especially if he doesn't know about them."

"Madame Maxime was very pleasant to us," Hermione explained. "But she was still hesitant to lend her support when it was just the two of us. After all, we're just teenagers. And, though we might not bring it up very often, you are famous, Harry. Your presence holds sway. When we proposed that you come with us for a second meeting, she couldn't have been more delighted."

"Because we're not letting you miss out again."

"And…Margot will be there…" Harry whispered.

Matthew waved a hand in front of his dazed face. "We're discussing vital, international politics and you're most scared about a girl?"

"Says you. You'd take on a hundred Death Eaters before getting on the wrong side of Hermione."

"Because I'm smart. Which I suppose means that you're smart too. I never doubted you, Harry."

"Did you write those touching words in my birthday card as well?"

"...I was supposed to get you a card?"

xxxxxxxxxx

Whilst Harry had plenty of people to occupy his time with, he couldn't ignore the temptation to look out for Enola. It was a difficult line to toe, given the fact that he couldn't afford to let anyone know that he'd been seeing her so regularly. He would occasionally look through the window, spying the park, hoping to see the young woman waiting for him. And if anyone asked what he was doing, he'd simply say that he was using his reflection to sort out his hair.

Not that he'd ever bothered to keep it under control.

It was just after Harry had blown out the candles on his extravagant cake (which Ginny explained had been baked by her mum) that he spotted Enola. She was sitting on the bench, looking away from the house. Every so often, she would crane her neck, presumably hoping to catch sight of him. He itched to leave and, with the cake being dished out, it gave him the perfect opportunity to slip away amidst the chaos.

Enola's smile was bright when he eventually crossed the road, his movements hurried as he raced against the ticking clock hanging over him. Even though he was worried about the consequences, with so many things that could go wrong, Harry matched her grin warmly. If they were caught, then surely everything would be fine. It was his birthday. No one could be angry at him. By the time the morning arrived, that was an entirely different matter.

"You came," she said in greeting.

"As if I'd leave you hanging," he replied, more confidently than he was feeling. "Though I don't have long. They'll probably already be looking for me."

"Is it wrong that the secrecy makes it more exciting?"

"Maybe. Although the sweat patches under my arms tell another story."

He wanted to hit himself. Why did he think that bringing up just how sweaty he was was the ideal way to win Enola's affections? That raised the question as to whether he wanted to win them in the first place, or whether he'd already earned them. From the way she was smirking, rather than frowning in disgust at his lack of filter, suggested that he'd been more successful than he had any right to be.

"Don't worry. This won't take long. I just wanted to give you your present, remember?"

"How could I forget? Do I get any hints?"

"None. Because I'm going to get straight to the point." She seemed to take a long breath, steadying herself. "It's…me."

Plucking up a surge of confidence, Enola roughly grabbed the front of his shirt, bunching it up so that she could drag Harry towards her. Before he could fully process what was going on, her lips were on him. It wasn't the first kiss they'd shared, but it was certainly the most passionate. And the memory of their first embrace had been soured by what had come after. As Harry melted into her touch, he couldn't find any desire to worry about the future.

It was perhaps the first time in his life that he'd been able to truthfully say that.