Harry III
Chloe Selpie stared down at him. She had the most piercing icy blue eyes Harry had ever seen. They seemed almost unnatural on her face. He wondered if she'd used some type of magic to enhance them. Or perhaps on her skin? The pristine snow white color of it certainly brought out the blue in her eyes. Her blood red lips only accentuated that as well. But something about it felt unnatural to him. Like the contrast was just too much to be normal.
Granted, that wasn't to say he didn't like looking at her. He rather liked looking at her. It just struck him as odd that her skin kept the same perfectly white tone from her forehead, down through her cheeks, neck, shoulders, the swell of her breasts and her navel. Right down to the top of her navy bikini bottom.
His own skin, when he looked at it, had different shades worked into it. The color was uniform only in the loosest sense of the word. The shades varied slightly, along with the random freckle, or the occasional red blemish or blue vein.
Chloe Selpie had none of that.
Part of him wanted to ask someone how she pulled it off. But who? Sirius would probably just find it funny and ask if the decorations needed to change. Ron was almost certainly as clueless about it as he was. Hermione would go on a rant about objectification, and while she wouldn't be wrong, wouldn't answer his actual question.
He could ask Daphne, he guessed. But that didn't seem like the conversation he should have with his new girlfriend. While he wouldn't mean anything by it except to satisfy his own curiosity, it still felt like an awful lot like he was saying something akin to, hey, why don't you look like this star actress?
Maybe he could get it out of Padma. He could try phrasing the conversation as if wondering if Chloe Selpie looked like a Volkar. Sure, the eye color was wrong, but what did that matter?
Chloe bit her lip. It was about the hundredth time Harry had seen her do so. It was the slightest of nibbles, little more than her top teeth digging into her bottom lip, done, he suspected, to look like she was trying to suppress a moan. It was funny, Harry thought, he knew it was fake but he still liked looking at it.
The cause of her discomfort was the tanned blonde Alana Moonbright nuzzling her neck. Alana was staring right back at him, while Chloe's eyes seemed less focused, like she was lost in a haze of pleasure. While Alana wanted it to be clear she was doing this for him, and only him.
Alana's hands started at Chloe's hips, conveniently inside the thin navy string of her bikini bottoms. Her hands then moved slowly, her nails just touching the other girl's skin, up her body and toward her breasts. All in about thirty seconds
The poster reset itself back to its original position. With Alana's coming up behind Chloe and starting to nuzzle against her once more.
Harry had been watching the loop for longer than he cared to admit. He remembered citing Alana Moonbright when Sirius asked the question of which of the starlets he preferred. And while the poster showed far more of Chloe Selpie's body, there was something incredibly alluring about Alana's expression in it. Something that made it difficult to take his eyes off of her face.
He managed though and instead stared up at the ceiling. It wasn't so much that he didn't like the poster. He actually rather did. But something about it still felt odd and exploitative. Even if he wanted to replace either of them in said poster.
Still, if he ever managed to have his new girlfriend visit Grimmauld Place, he figured he'd be wise to take down the poster before she saw it.
He sat up in bed and looked around the room. His thoughts filtered toward Daphne, and not for the first time. He hoped she wasn't mad at him. He'd just sort of disappeared from Hogwarts that night. Which felt rather rude of him.
He shifted back so he was leaning against the pillows and peered around his new bedroom. The bed itself was a dark wood frame with navy blankets and pillows. It contrasted a bit with the white walls of the room. Sirius hadn't done anything with the coloration there as he said Harry should be able to make that decision. And if Harry was honest, he didn't have much of an issue with the white walls.
The bed dominated a corner of the room. Two large windows looked out over London on the opposite wall from the door. All the typical accouterments were present, from bookcases to a desk and a wireless. All of it was very chic, very modern, and very black. Sirius had filled the bookcases with an assortment of magical and muggle texts, ranging the full gambit from novels to biographies to spellbooks. All of which were pristine new hardcovers. He wasn't sure how much Sirius had vetted the books, but the likes of The Aeneid, The Remains of the Day, The Personal Memoirs of U.S Grant, Emma, and many others led him to realize he'd covered a rather wide selection of topics, to say the least.
The desk was filled with every supply he could possibly need. And the chair there was rather comfortable. A small alcove in the corner contained a couch, a couple of chairs and a coffee table. The room itself was quite large, easily bigger than his and Dudley's bedrooms back at Privet drive combined.
There was a walk-in closet, which was fairly empty at this point, with only a couple of pieces of clothing hanging in it. A large dresser stood near the bed, coincidentally also mostly empty. There were a couple of end tables with various lamps on them.
The only decoration Sirius put on the walls was the poster of the starlets but he'd slipped other things in here and there. There was a photo of his parents tucked in a frame on the corner of the dresser. His desk features a photo of he, Ron, and Hermione hugging after she'd been thawed at the end of his second year after the fight in the Chamber of Secrets. He couldn't imagine how Sirius acquired it. He'd have guessed it was Colin Creevey as the photographer, but he'd been petrified with Hermione.
He'd focused on Quidditch in the little nook with the coffee table. A shot of him with the Gryffindor team in his third year after they'd won the Quidditch Cup rested on one of the end tables next to the couch. The other sported a shot of him looping around the Hungarian Horntail during the Triwizard Tournament.
He'd placed an oversized hardcover tome on the center of the coffee table. Harry hadn't had time to page through An Illustrated History of British Quidditch yet, but Ron had mentioned it was an excellent survey of the history of the game.
Really, in his two days in his brand new room, he hadn't had much time to do more than peer at the books, tell Hermione she was more than welcome to borrow Metaphysics and Magic, and be ushered away.
It amused him a bit that Sirius had managed to keep it a secret from Molly. Although, now that he thought about it, he doubted the Weasley's were living there with him while everyone was at school. He knew Sirius would have the occasional order member stopping in, but that he was otherwise essentially alone. The thought resolved Harry to try to write more, at least until he remembered that Umbridge was likely intercepting all of his mail.
He punched his bed in annoyance at that before rising from it. He spared Alana and Chloe one last glance before leaving his bedroom. His only incredibly minor complaint about the room would have been that it didn't have an ensuite bathroom. But that seemed like such a minor complaint, especially when the bathroom was literally across the hall, that he couldn't imagine ever voicing it.
Either way, Molly had dragged he and Ron toward the same bedroom they'd shared over the summer almost as soon as they'd arrived at Grimmauld place. Everyone seemed on edge. There were tears and confusion and chaos in everything. Everyone wanted to see Arthur but Molly insisted that it could wait until morning, that he was resting and fine, and that they shouldn't worry.
Sirius, for his part, was busy trying to hide his smile at the thought of having company for the holidays. It wasn't until Molly rather forcibly shoved them into the room that Sirius mentioned he had a surprise for Harry. He'd led them down the hallway toward another doorway and into his new bedroom.
Molly seemed peeved by it. She muttered something about there being no reason for the boys not to share, and that the poster was very inappropriate. To which Sirius had quipped that she hadn't even begun to see inappropriate, all while Harry blinked in surprise as Sirius showed him around. There was some posturing between the adults before Ron shrugged his shoulders and commented that he could use a reprieve from Harry's snoring anyway.
After Ron and Molly left, Harry had hugged Sirius. When they'd broken apart, he'd have bet that there were tears growing in his Godfather's eyes. The older man looked away from him and faked clearing his throat before asking if there was anything that needed to be changed. And promising to show Harry how to decorate more if he wanted to.
The lessons were yet to come, but only because the days had been filled with trips to the Hospital and other various chores when they weren't allowed to visit. Harry mostly avoided them by hiding in his room. Which Ron soon figured out. Hermione refused to not help out and chastised them for ignoring their chores. But Ginny and the Twins joined them almost immediately after. Eventually, Molly, who had better things to worry about that doxies in curtains, decided to just let them.
They still went to the hospital quite often. And Harry assumed that was their destination today. He showered, enjoying the fact that while the bathroom wasn't ensuite, it was far enough removed from the rest of the house to be essentially private. After he finished in the shower he took a minute for his teeth and to put forth a token effort on his hair. Once that was over he spent the time staring at himself in the mirror.
He still struggled with this every morning since the attack. Only on the first morning had he appeared particularly snake-like. But even with his general amusement of being at Grimmauld Place, his new room, and the joy on his Godfather's face every time he saw him, he still struggled with knowing that the entire situation was caused by him.
He wasn't sure how, exactly. And no one would talk to him about it. No one had even really asked for more details, outside of Dumbledore. The Weasley's seemed content with the knowledge that he'd had a prophetic dream that saved Arthur Weasley's life.
They'd all glossed over the fact that he'd been the snake. That he'd been the one who'd attacked the man. That at the strangest moments he could still taste the flesh in his mouth. He fought back the urge to vomit into the sink. This time he won out. He turned on the faucet and splashed some water on his face before drying off and moving back into his bedroom.
He'd just finished dressing when Sirius knocked on the doorframe.
"You're a far earlier riser than I was at your age," he said. His Godfather was fighting back a smile. Sirius knew he was supposed to be dour, and filled with concern over Mr. Weasley's condition. But he had a house full of guests he actually liked for Christmas for the first time in over a decade. Even if the circumstances weren't great he was going to make the most of the opportunity.
And he may have started the festivities a bit early, given he was holding a silver flask in his left hand.
"When I'm up, I'm up," Harry shrugged. "Never been good at getting back to sleep."
"Well that's fine, it's just the waking up at seven part that gets me," Sirius teased. Harry peered toward the clock, it was closer to nine.
"Are we going to the hospital?"
"Nah," Sirius said. "I think the Weasley's are. I was going to take you to Selfridges."
"Why?" Harry asked,
"Because you could fit ten of you in that jumper."
"It's not that bad," Harry said. Sirius peered at him, looking up and down with a frown before speaking.
"Fine. Nine."
"I'll fix it at Hogwarts."
"We'll buy you a wardrobe that's actually yours," Sirius said.
"You can't go out. Even into Muggle London. That's way too dangerous," Harry said.
"Remus Juice," Sirius answered, holding up the flask. "May have to duck into a bathroom to drink more of it on occasion but should have enough for the day."
"And they agreed to that?"
"Dumbledore knows I'm going crazy," Sirius said. "It took a bit of convincing. And Kingsley is going to shadow us once we get there. But yes, they agreed to that. Do you not want to go?"
"No. I….I don't know. I don't think you need to buy me anything," Harry said. He looked away from Sirius and tried to fight the rising heat in his cheeks.
"Harry," Sirius paused. He took a deep breath as if trying to steady himself before he continued. "It's my own failings that have led to all of this. And it needs to be fixed. You should have your own clothing. That was always just your clothing."
"I can't argue with that. But I feel like I should go to the hospital with them," Harry frowned as the sense of duty shot back to him.
"You've gone more than enough. Arthur is recovering. He should be home in a couple of days. Let's do something for you. Besides, I've heard you have a girlfriend now," Sirius teased.
"What does that matter?" Harry asked.
"Well, you should always look your best for her. Give her friends reasons to be jealous, not to think she's an idiot and all," Sirius said. Harry blushed as he said it. He'd never thought about that. He didn't know if people talked about his clothing behind his back. He'd never heard any of it.
Then again, he mostly wore his uniforms at school, and those were tailored to him. Other students wore more casual clothing around the castle but he rarely did. No one ever seemed to comment.
"Really?" Harry asked.
"Oh boy. This could be a long day," Sirius said as he gestured for Harry to leave the bedroom. "We can bring your friends if it would make you feel better."
Harry thought about that as he left the bedroom. He saw Sirius take a swig from the flask and by the time they reached the end of the hallway he was walking toward the door with his old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Remus Lupin.
He wondered if he should. Hermione would probably be some help. She may not have cared for fashion, but she'd have at least been honest with him if he looked foolish in something. Ron would have helped too. But Ron tended to get a bit iffy when money was being flaunted as such. He knew Ron didn't intend to get jealous, but that it happened. He'd be happy for him, but it would always take a bit longer than she'd hoped.
"No," Harry said. He took a deep breath and added. "I think we could use a day to ourselves."
"My thoughts exactly!" Sirius said. To his surprise they took Muggle public transit to the department store. Sirius seemed to get as much of a kick out of it as Arthur Weasley would have. But he was clearly more practiced. Harry wondered if he'd snuck out often before he'd moved away. Which sent another pang of guilt through his chest as he thought about how much fun the Weasley patriarch would have on the same trip.
Kingsley found them almost as soon as they entered the store. He exchanged a few quick words with Sirius before fading into the scenery. They paced the store for a few minutes, Harry found himself rather lost in it all. Until Sirius eventually asked if anything caught his eye.
He was rather ashamed to admit that nothing did. It all looked sort of the same to him. He couldn't tell what was fashionable and what was not. What he should be interested in and what he shouldn't. He walked over to a rack of shirts and peered through them, almost afraid to touch the fabric.
That fear only multiplied when he saw the price tag on one of them. The shirt alone was far more expensive than even what the Dursley's would buy for Dudley. He felt his hand reel back in shock as Sirius frowned at him.
"Cost doesn't matter," he said, seeing where Harry's eyes lingered.
"I don't know," he said. Sirius shook his head and reached into his pocket. He took out a small black card and handed it to Harry. He recognized a credit card well enough and knew the goblins went so far as issuing them to assist with purchases made in Muggle areas. He was fairly sure they charged asinine conversion rates, but most of the magical community that would use such a card didn't care.
"What's this?" he asked, staring down at the small black card. He knew they were color coded. After Pansy bragged rather openly about Draco's blue card a few of the Muggleborns in the common room later that evening hadn't understood, Harry among them. There'd been a teasing remark that the Weasley's couldn't even afford yellow, which was apparently the lowest tier. When they were back in the safety of Gryffindor tower some of the older students had explained it all to them. Black was far and away the highest. And so high it was rumored the goblins didn't even charge interest on it.
"Yours," Sirius said. "It's essentially a Muggle credit card. I think you're probably aware of those?"
"I know what it is, it's just, you know, why are you giving it to me?" he asked. He stared down more at it and noticed his name was clearly printed on it. The account number was printed cleanly underneath his name.
"Because it's yours," Sirius said, as if that was obvious. He ran a hand through his hair in a gesture that looked odd in his borrowed body but still had a sort of familiarity to it.
"Why didn't the Goblins give it to me when I visited my vault?"
"It's not for your vault," Sirius said.
"You don't have to do that," Harry said.
"I disagree. I have fifteen years where I should have been doing that. That card should have always been yours. There's no reason for you to spend your money. I'm supposed to be the one responsible for you. While my family was good for almost nothing, they did have a great deal of money. And I'll be damned if we don't spend it," Sirius said.
"I don't know," Harry frowned.
"And I don't know what I'm going to be. I blew the chance of really being a father figure by chasing after Pettigrew. I'd settle for the cool Uncle. But I don't know. I should have been better. And this is dumb in the grand scheme of it all. But I'm trying to be better."
He paused when he finished speaking. He looked away from Harry, peering toward a table with jeans stacked on it. He stepped over toward it as if to give himself some distance from Harry. All he could think to do was pocket the card and join him.
"And I suspect it would anger your mother something fierce to know we were spending it on Muggle clothing," Harry said.
"She would hate it," Sirius agreed.
"We can brag about it to her later," Harry said, referencing the obnoxious portrait at Grimmauld Place. Sirius smiled at him and made to speak but a perky young sales girl approached them.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Yes," Sirius said. "We ran into a bit of a problem this week that I'm sure you can assist with."
"Oh?"
"Harry spent a semester in America and the flight home lost his luggage," Sirius said. "Colonial airlines aren't good for anything."
"Oh no! That's terrible," the girl said, turning her attention toward Harry. "Did they say how long they thought it would be?"
"No," Sirius sighed in feigned annoyance. "They think it's on a plane to Japan of all places. But they have no idea."
"That's awful," she said.
"Yes. So we need a bit of everything. Like, everything. He's outgrown all the clothing he left back here," Sirius said. Harry only managed to nod. He was struck a bit by the fact that the very helpful sales clerk looked a little bit like Chole Selpie.
"Well, should we start with shirts?" the girl asked.
"Grand idea," Sirius said. "I'll leave you to it and go find some of the more basic sundries."
And then he left him alone with the girl. She asked questions that took him longer to answer than he thought was entirely appropriate. She seemed to size him up with her eyes rather quickly and then started grabbing things off the racks.
He wasn't sure how it happened, but he eventually found himself in a rather private fitting room trying on every shirt. Just as he finished, he found jeans, chinos and other pants thrown over the top of the door.
It felt like it took hours to try it all on. In the end he'd decided on about half of it and she'd happily checked him out at one of the counters. He nearly gagged when he saw the final total. But the card Sirius gave him went through without any sort of problem. And she smiled happily as she asked if there was anything else she could help with.
Sirius appeared moments later with even more goods. It took an age to gather up and bag everything but they managed. And then it was on to shoes. A pair of trainers, boots and dress shoes finished it off. Harry found himself rather exhausted by the end of it.
Sirius sent the bags back to Grimmauld Place as soon as they stepped foot back out into London. They walked around the city for a few minutes, Sirius smiling up at the pale blue sky of the afternoon. He was clearly enjoying being out on the town.
"Lunch?" he asked.
"I could eat," Harry said. "But I don't really know any good restaurants."
"Me either. That's half the fun of it. Let's just pick one that looks appealing and call it a day," Sirius answered. Harry nodded and they continued their walk around the city. It didn't take him long to realize that they weren't really looking for a restaurant all that hard.
In fact, they'd found an optometrist first. Sirius asked when he last had his eyes checked to which Harry didn't have a good answer. Somehow they'd managed an appointment, a new prescription and new glasses. They'd be mailed to him, and Sirius said he'd get them to Hogwarts and assured him they'd visit a magical version over the summer.
After, they continued their walk around London with the excuse of looking for a restaurant. They passed on quite a few before deciding to stop at one.
Sirius ducked off to the bathroom as soon as they sat to refresh his dose of Polyjuice potion. Harry peered at the menu and ordered a soda from the waiter. Sirius did the same as soon as he retook his seat.
They were quiet for the first few minutes, the awkwardness of the situation rising into the air. But eventually the waiter returned, ran over the lunch specials and asked if they had any questions. They didn't but it still spurred some talk of the menu and they ordered. It wasn't until the waiter left that Sirius asked.
"So tell me about this Daphne Greengrass," he said.
"How did you even find out about that?"
"I have good ears," Sirius shrugged.
"I didn't say anything though," he answered. Sirius only smiled.
"The Twins don't like her. Hermione seems to respect her, but begrudgingly, and Ron thinks she's great," Sirius answered.
"He does?" Harry asked.
"Yes."
"How can you know that?"
"He literally said to Fred: 'shut up, she's great,' when they were expressing their opinions about her," Sirius answered.
"When was this?" Harry said, feeling a sudden urge to hex Fred.
"Your first night back when you went to bed early," Sirius answered. "I didn't really mean to eavesdrop. I was in the other room but they got rather heated."
"It's fine," Harry said.
"So what's she like? I gather she's in Slytherin?"
"She is," Harry said. "She's nice."
"That's it?"
"It's all rather new."
"I got the feeling it's been brewing for a while," Sirius said.
"Well I thought she had a boyfriend until she snogged me under the mistletoe. Turns out she never did," Harry answered. Sirius raised his brows at him.
"How did you make that mistake?"
"She's super close with her cousin. I didn't realize they were related. Different last names," Harry answered. He looked away from his godfather.
"What's his name?"
"Dylan Harper."
"Harper? Father was a Death Eater?"
"I think so," Harry said.
"I wonder if she's Nathan Greengrass's daughter," Sirius said, clearly intent on changing the subject.
"Do you know him?"
"Not really. He was a Ravenclaw prefect in my first year. Actually might have been Head Boy, but I don't remember."
"I see," Harry said.
"From what I remember he was a nice bloke," Sirius shrugged.
"He's a healer apparently. Both her parents are," Harry said. He paused for a moment as he realized something. "I don't know her mother's name."
"That isn't first date conversation," Sirius teased.
"We haven't had a date yet, I don't think," Harry said.
"You don't think?"
"Well I don't know. It just sort of happened. And then I wound up here before we could really figure anything out," Harry argued.
"Do you know if she lives in London?"
"She does. I'm not sure where though," Harry said as he recalled their conversations. "Somewhere in Kensington I think."
"So wandering aimlessly through the streets isn't going to help our cause much," Sirius answered as their food arrived.
"I wish I'd have thought to grab Hedwig," Harry commented. Sirius shrugged his shoulders as if he was working on something when Harry added. "We're supposed to meet on Wednesdays."
"You set that up with her?"
"Oh, no. Our C group was hoping to play for a few hours at the Leaky Cauldron on Wednesdays. I should have told you," Harry said. "I think Ron and I were going to have to sneak out."
"Nah," Sirius said. "There shouldn't be a problem if you want to meet your friends at the Leaky Cauldron. It's not like it's uncommon for Hogwarts students on break to be in the Alley. Your father and I used to kill time there plenty. But your parents never had an issue with us flooing around. In fact I think they preferred it when we were out of their hair."
"Something Mrs. Weasley doesn't seem to prefer."
"No. But I'll talk to her. We'll get you and Ron to the Cauldron on Wednesday," Sirius said.
"Thanks," Harry said.
"But you haven't told me anything about this girl," Sirius teased. He plucked a chip from Harry's plate which made Harry half wonder if the Dursley's weren't a better option for the summer.
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "She's nice."
"So you've said. Got to be more to it than that. If you dated the first nice bird that came along you'd be dating Hermione."
"She's pretty," Harry said, wondering if he'd just shoved his foot in his mouth. He was talking about Daphne, of course, and not Hermione. But it wasn't to say Hermione wasn't attractive in her own way. Her way just didn't do anything for him. Sirius merely raised his brows at him. "She likes to sketch. She's fun to be around. Her cousin is pretty much her brother. She has a younger sister. She's smart and level-headed. I don't know what I'm supposed to say."
"Nothing," Sirius answered, his mouth curling into a smile as he spoke. "I was just curious to see what you would say. I can't imagine I'll get the privilege of meeting her anytime soon."
"I suppose I can't bring her over and technically Remus Lupin already met her," Harry said.
"Good point, I should grill Remus about her," Sirius said.
"I feel like there's something I'm missing. Should I be worried about her?" Harry asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious about his first girlfriend. There was a lingering thought in the back of his head that she couldn't actually be interested in him and that there had to be something malicious about it. But nothing about her ever felt anything other than wholesome.
"No. I'm just teasing," Sirius said.
"Oh. The Twins gave Harper some crap about his parents a while ago. He got pretty pale about it. I think he was about ready to snap," Harry said.
"Do you like it when people speak poorly of your parents?" Sirius asked.
"Well no, but they weren't Death Eaters," Harry answered.
"Is Harper?" Sirius asked.
"I have no idea. I'd doubt it. He seems like a pretty good bloke actually. Although we only really talk about Quidditch. He hates the Cannons and it gets on Ron's nerves. Which amuses me more than it should. Honestly, he seems like a regular guy," Harry shrugged. He tried to think back through the conversations he'd had with either of them. They never said anything he'd have thought offensive or wrong. But it wasn't like Harry was looking for it.
Sure, they were a little standoffish at first. But he had to admit, he probably would have acted more or less the same way they had if he'd joined a group with a bunch of Slytherin students.
By now they were just Dylan and Daphne though. Even when passing in the hallways there wasn't any use of the last name. He couldn't pinpoint when it happened. Although he wondered what she'd think of being called Daph. Given that Dylan didn't call her by a diminutive he figured she wasn't a fan of it. But that also seemed like a bit of a logical stretch from him.
"I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. I can't say I knew any of them though," Sirius said. "But you have a pretty good gut for these things from what I can tell. And you make good decisions."
"Yet I always feel like I'm guessing," Harry laughed.
"Don't we all?"
"So you don't know what happened to his father?" Harry asked.
"No. I think he died after the war though. I'm pretty sure I heard about it during my early days in Azkaban. I can look into it if you want more information. But I'm sure it's nothing of note," Sirius said.
"A little more knowledge never hurts," Harry shrugged. Sirius nodded at him. By that point they'd finished eating. The waiter returned and asked if they wanted anything for dessert. Sirius looked at him but all Harry managed to do was look down and away. Sirius told the waiter the bill would be fine.
They paid and made their way out of the building. Sirius seemed hesitant about ending the day. But Harry couldn't really think of anything else to have them do. So instead they made their way back to Grimmauld Place.
The Weasley clan wasn't present when they returned to the house. Sirius followed him back to his room where everything they'd ordered was neatly arranged in bags on the bed. They spent the next few minutes organizing it all in his dresser and closet.
As Sirius finished up in his closet, Harry tossed himself down onto the couch and peered around the room. It had only been his for a few days but it already felt like he belonged. He didn't bother trying to hide the smile as Sirius, looking like himself now, walked out of his closet.
"We screwed up," Sirius said.
"What?"
"No summer clothing. Only a couple of t-shirts. No shorts," Sirius answered.
"Guess we'll have to go again over summer break," Harry answered. Sirius smiled at him.
"Guess we will," he said. Moments later, the sounds of people returning filled the halls. It only took a couple of minutes for Ron, Hermione and Ginny to find him in the bedroom. Sirius left them alone.
They exchanged the usual pleasantries. Hermione focused more on how his day was than Ron. He saw his friend's jaw set tightly as Harry mentioned the shopping. But he didn't say anything negative about it.
Still Harry changed the topic, asking the usual questions about his father. The answers were more or less the same. He was fine. Recovering and awake. A few more days to make sure and he should be fine to come home. So far they'd avoided any awkward questions from the Ministry. But mostly the story was fairly simple.
He didn't remember why he was there. Just that he was leaving for the day and then he woke up in the hospital wing. Fudge, from what they could tell, wasn't a big fan of the implication. But Arthur's earnestness from his hospital bed was selling it rather well.
The conversation was fine, but it brought Harry back to the same haunting thoughts from earlier. There'd just been something so oddly real about the dream he'd had attacking Arthur. And he'd felt entirely in control while it was in progress. Deep down he knew he was responsible for the attack.
But how could he voice that? And how could he prevent that? What if it happened again? What if he hurt more people? The thoughts flooded through his head in a constant stream of fear until he utterly lost himself. It wasn't a great thought but it plagued him until he fell asleep that night.
The next day was a blur filled with more thoughts that he wished he could more readily push from his head. But at least it was Christmas Eve, so that more or less distracted him.
The thoughts were still with him come Christmas morning. It had only been slightly reduced. He tried to ignore it as he showered. And liked to imagine he didn't see himself as a snake as he looked in the mirror.
He spent far too long dressing. But the fact that he suddenly had a surplus of clothing made it a more complicated affair than he was used to. He was perhaps a little too formal with the black chinos and a light blue button up shirt with squiggly black designs on it. He opted for the black trainers and stepped into the hallway as Hermione was walking down toward his bedroom.
She paused and did a double take, her brows rising. Harry suddenly felt rather self-conscious.
"Do I look that bad?" he asked.
"No," she said, her cheeks flushing pink. "No. No. Uhm. No. Definitely not."
"That's not a great vote of confidence," Harry laughed.
"No you look good," Hermione said, her voice quiet. She bit her bottom lip in a way reminiscent of Chloe Selpie. "Mrs. Weasley wanted us all to go to the hospital today."
"Okay," Harry said. "Merry Christmas by the way." Hermione only nodded at him, still an odd shade of pink for her. He walked with her down toward the living room. Mrs. Weasley was waiting with them.
They made it to St. Mungo's rapidly and in minutes they were in Arthur's room. Christmas cheer abounded as Arthur lit up at seeing them. They were chatting happily about the last couple of days, minor little tid-bits of what everyone was up to. It reminded Harry of what it must have been like to have a family that came together every evening.
It was nice. Harry found he was enjoying himself. Even as the lime-robed healer entered. The man stifled a yawn behind a clipboard and peered at Arthur.
"Sorry to intrude," he said.
"Doctor Greengrass!" Arthur exclaimed through the din of his family talking in the small room. "I thought you had the day off!"
"I did," Doctor Greengrass said. "And then a witch in Twickenham tried to create gigantic magical candy canes that ended up exploding and sending peppermint shrapnel through a score of homes. I think the Ministry finally has it cleaned up but they wanted someone with my credentials to make sure the injured Muggles were alright."
"That's awful," Arthur said.
"For what it's worth, I think she had the best intentions," Doctor Greengrass answered. "But I figured since I was here I may as well run some quick diagnostics on another few patients and see if I can get some of them home for the holidays. Arm."
"I would appreciate that," Arthur said. He held up his arm and Doctor Greengrass drew some blood into a vial with his wand. "I don't think you've met my family. Well, plus two others. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. The hair gives them away."
"A pleasure," Doctor Greengrass said with a smile. His brows raised as he peered at Hermione, and then Harry. His gaze lingered on Harry for a moment. And he couldn't help but wonder if it was because he was Harry Potter, or because Harry Potter might be contemplating doing inappropriate things with his daughter. Harry peered back at him, wondering if he'd even been mentioned by Daphne or Dylan. Nathan Greengrass appeared to be in his forties. He wasn't very tall, but was handsome, even if he looked rather tired.
He only spared Harry the briefest of glances before he turned his attention back to the blood in the vial. A series of spells made it change colors and swirl some. The clipboard floated next to him and a quill jotted down some numbers.
"Harry is like family. He's done a lot for us. More than most will ever know," Arthur said. Harry got the impression he wanted to continue. Molly hit him on the shoulder as if he had no reason to bore the Healer with such tales.
But Arthur kept talking. He didn't get into any details. He didn't need to. Details didn't matter. Harry could hear the pride in Arthur's voice as the man talked about him. A pride that, at this moment, he did not deserve.
He wanted to scream at Arthur Weasley. To tell him that he was not worthy of his praise. To tell him that he was the reason they were spending Christmas in a hospital room. That he was the reason he was in trouble at his job. That all of this was his fault. He didn't deserve his praise.
It was harder and harder to breathe the more he thought. Harder and harder to do anything. He found himself wanting to do anything other than listen to them. And then when they wouldn't listen to his arguments, to prove it to them. In the most brutal ways he could.
He was the problem. How could they not see that? It was so obvious to him. One of the most blatant things he could think of. He was so clearly the problem.
And then a soft hand found his and he felt it tug him out of the room. Someone must have noticed his discomfort. And realized he didn't need to be there. He let himself be pulled. Blinking his eyes closed for a few moments every here and there. Not paying any attention to where he was going.
It didn't take long before he heard a door open. And he felt himself being pulled into a room. He expected to be scolded as dim lights turned on above him. He just knew he was about to be lectured on how he should be grateful, how he was ruining everything.
What he didn't expect was a hug.
It broke him.
His arms wrapped around her. A familiar scent of flowers and vanilla filled his nose as his head pressed into soft hair. Tears followed in moments as he held her. He must have looked like a fool. He needed to stop. He needed to be stronger. He needed to be anything other than what he was.
He tried to break away but she held him. So he did the only thing he could do. He gave in and let the emotions drain out of him.
He didn't know how long it lasted. He didn't want to know, really. But in the end, sometime later, he found himself on a small couch with his head in her lap. It was when he realized how much he liked the view that he realized he was feeling better.
"I'm sorry," he said. She only shrugged. Her hand was in his hair, undoubtedly making it even messier than it already was. But it felt great against his scalp and as far as he was concerned she could touch him all she liked.
"It's alright. You looked like you needed it," she smiled. It was weak. But a smile nonetheless.
"I didn't mean to disappear," he blurted out a moment later. "I hope you're not mad at me."
"No. We all heard about Ron's dad. I figured it was something like that. If you didn't show up on Wednesday I may have come and tried to scold you, though," she answered.
"I forgot my owl in our rush," Harry admitted. Daphne only nodded at him. She was quiet for a moment before asking.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I'm not sure I even can," he sighed.
"Oh. It's just…You didn't look good back there. And from what I could tell they were only praising you. It seemed odd. I get it if you can't say anything," Daphne said with a slight frown. Harry was quiet for a moment.
He shouldn't tell her. They hadn't been friends that long. He had no idea if he could trust her. But it didn't matter. He needed to say something.
"I had a dream the night we kissed," he said.
"Me too," she giggled. "Was yours as fun as mine?"
"I doubt it," Harry sighed, suddenly far more intrigued by her dreams than his own. But before she could comment he continued. "I saw Mister Weasley get attacked. Well, more than that, I was the snake that attacked him."
"Oh," Daphne said, clearly unsure of what to do with that. She bit her lip.
"You think I'm crazy," Harry said.
"No. Padma is crazy. You're mostly normal," Daphne said.
"I think Alisen is crazy. I don't think Padma is," Harry countered.
"A few months ago I would have agreed with you. Now, I'm not sure they're a different person."
"Fair enough."
"But, well, they don't really teach it at Hogwarts. Maybe they get into it in Divination, I don't know, I didn't take it. But prophetic dreams of weird natures aren't super uncommon," Daphne said.
"Really? No one mentioned that to me."
"Well it's not like something that happens to everyone. But magic can be weird and we don't understand all of it. Sometimes in some odd stray moment, power does strange things," Daphne said. "And I feel like if they talked about it students would just assume every dream was a prophecy or something and imagine the chaos that would come when you decided your dream threesome with the Patil twins was the future. I only know about it because my parents were talking about it once. My mother had one the night her sister….it's not important."
"I don't even know how to comment on that," Harry said, blinking at her. He could feel the blush rising in his cheeks.
"You don't have to," she smiled.
"It felt like I was there," Harry said.
"I'm sorry," Daphne answered. "That must have been awful. And you're blaming yourself for it. But it wasn't your fault."
"I know. That thought doesn't help."
"I'm sure you've heard it hundreds of times by now. But I don't know what else to say. It's not your fault, Harry. And if not for you and that dream, the situation might be far worse. You didn't cause it," Daphne said.
"I know," Harry lied. "Thank you for saying it."
"It's what I'm here for," she teased.
"What are you really here for?" he asked.
"My parents always have an excuse to be in the hospital on Christmas morning. We spend some time with the people who don't have anyone. Sometimes get them a few things from the shops or something. We don't do our family Christmas until the evening," Daphne said.
"That sounds nice," Harry said. Daphne shrugged her shoulders as if she either wasn't quite sure, or was embarrassed by it.
"I guess. Either way I saw you and was just going to say hi but you looked like you needed help," Daphne said.
"I could use a kiss from my girlfriend," Harry said. He blushed as he said it. It just sort of came out. He felt the urge to add. "Assuming you're still my girlfriend."
"Will depend on what Dylan got me for Christmas," she teased. But she leaned down and kissed him on the lips. It lasted for a few minutes before she leaned back.
"I didn't get you anything," he said as her lips left his.
"I'd feel bad but I didn't get you anything, either," she said.
"So I didn't scare you off?"
"It will take more than one crazy-person dream to do that. It's like baseball, you get three strikes."
"Baseball, really?"
"It's an interesting game," Daphne countered. Her tone didn't convince him that she believed that. Harry merely raised his brows as he peered up at her.
"Strike one," he countered.
"Nuh-uh," she countered. "And anyway, have you seen Ken Griffey Jr?"
"Who?"
"It might be best if you don't find out," she teased
"What was your dream anyway?" he asked, changing the subject.
"We snogged in a hot tub," Daphne admitted. She said it quickly, as if to prevent the blush that appeared on his cheeks from being noticeable. But it didn't have the success she'd hoped.
"I like yours more," Harry said.
"Me too. If I knew where we could find a hot tub we could re-enact it."
"I'd like that," he said.
"Me too."
"Where are we, anyway?" he asked. He peered around the room. Which was annoying as he had to shift his head off of her lap to do so. And her hand slipped from his hair. He shifted so he was sitting next to her, his leg pressing against hers.
The room they were in was tiny. It had the couch they were sitting on, a small table, with two small chairs, and a refrigerator. It was all rather basic.
"It's one of the private staff rooms. They have a handful of them where Healers can rest for a few minutes if they're on long shifts," Daphne said.
"Are we supposed to be in one?"
"No. But none of them were currently being used and I picked the smallest one. If we get kicked out, we get kicked out, but I figured someplace quiet was good," Daphne said.
"You're allowed to just wander?"
"I mean, I probably shouldn't. But it's not like almost the entire staff doesn't know who I am just from my parents," Daphne shrugged. "I've never been stopped before."
Harry only nodded at her. He couldn't think of anything to say to that. So instead he just enjoyed the fact that she was leaning against him. She took one of her hands in his and started to slide her fingers between his. He squeezed her hand in response and enjoyed the quiet.
She was right. It was calming and somehow made him feel better than anything else that day, even with it being Christmas. He sat with her for about twenty more minutes. They talked some, mostly about nothing. She complimented him on his clothing, at least saying she liked the way he looked that day. He wondered if that meant she didn't like how he looked other days, but didn't see the need to press.
He told her about the shopping trip and the few things he'd done to kill time. He hadn't quite mentioned the extent of the shopping though, figuring it was best not to say how badly he'd needed a real wardrobe.
After a few minutes they grew silent and he shifted to look at her. She looked back at him. They stared for a few moments before he kissed her. She deepened it, sliding around him and into his lap.
It was, he thought, the best feeling in the world. His arms wrapped around her and he kept kissing her. Something primal stirred in him. Something that told him to never let go of her, and to never let his lips leave hers. Whatever he'd have guessed about their first real snogging session, it would not have been that it occurred at a hospital.
But then footsteps clicked in the hallway. They both froze, her lips inches from his, as the steps grew closer. She didn't move to get off his lap, but her body tensed against his. And then the steps reached a crescendo before quieting down as they continued away from their door.
Daphne giggled, her forehead pressing to his, her smile curving upwards. Harry couldn't help but laugh as well. She shifted off of him, leaning her head onto his shoulder and peering toward the door. He saw the clock on the wall and frowned.
"I wonder if they're looking for me," Harry said.
"Oh! I've kidnapped Harry Potter," she teased.
"You joke, but Mrs. Weasley gets a bit nervous when I'm not around," Harry said.
"That sounds like it could be very annoying. What's it matter if you slip away for a few minutes?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "She just worries."
"My dad saw me grab you. I'm sure he told them where you are, it probably wasn't that hard to figure out," Daphne said.
"Probably," Harry answered. He didn't see much of a point in arguing with her if arguing was leading toward his departure. Part of him thought he'd be content to stay in this room for quite some time.
"But I think you do have a point. Astoria will kill me if I keep her from her presents for too long," she said.
"So we have to head back?"
"No. But we should. Just to be safe. I'd hate to get grounded before Wednesday," she answered.
"Me too," he said. He stood and offered his hand to her. She giggled but took it. They kissed once more before she led him to the door. He did not let his hand leave hers. They didn't hurry through the hospital as they made their way back toward Arthur Weasley's room. Given how little time it took to find the break room he suspected she was taking a rather circuitous route back. He saw no issue in letting her lead and enjoyed her soft, warm hand in his as they walked.
They made their way through the main lobby and down toward another wing of the hospital. As they moved down a few halls he debated asking her just where they were going as she seemed to know exactly what she was doing. But the words didn't come.
He'd figured out, both from looking at maps and from his own wanderings, that the hospital was essentially a circle. So, worst case, he figured, they'd get there eventually. Unless he was underestimating Daphne's intent. He pushed that thought from his head, not wanting to face it as a possibility, just as she spoke up.
"Oh! Hi Neville!" she said, sounding genuinely surprised. Harry turned his gaze toward where she was looking and saw Neville walking with who could only be his grandmother. Neville practically jumped out of his skin as he saw them. He shifted to hide behind his grandmother, who turned her gaze toward the two newcomers. Her eyes went wide after a moment.
"Uh, hi," Neville said quietly.
"Who are your friends, Neville?" his grandmother asked.
"That's, uh, Harry and Daphne," Neville said. "They're in my C group."
"Harry Potter?" she asked, peering at him. Harry blushed and looked away.
"And Daphne Greengrass," Daphne said with raised brows. It caused Neville's grandmother to step back slightly. Harry only smiled.
"Nice to meet you," he said. Neville's grandmother nodded, but was clearly too busy sizing up Daphne to care much about Harry.
"Neville speaks highly of both of you," she said. She nodded toward Harry. "In fact, he speaks more about you than almost anyone else."
Harry peered around the older woman and saw Neville was blushing a rather deep red. He was doing everything in his power to look at anything but Harry and Daphne. Part of Harry wished he could tell his friend how much he'd longed to be embarrassed by an adult in his life. Maybe Sirius would be up to the task in the coming months.
"Almost anyone?" Harry asked, raising his brows and feeling rather cocky for a moment.
"Yes. Only Padma Patil comes up more," she said. Daphne harrumphed in a way that made Harry wonder if he should be jealous. But he couldn't help but smile.
"Makes sense," Harry said.
"I was hoping to meet the young lady at some point. Perhaps I'll have errands in the Alley on Wednesday," she said.
"Please don't," Neville groaned.
"Tell me," his grandmother turned her gaze between Harry and Daphne. "Should he ask this Padma Patil to Hogsmeade?"
"In his shoes I would," Harry said, hoping it was as diplomatic of an answer as to not irritate his girlfriend. Daphne gave no indication his comment bothered her.
"She'd say yes," she added.
"Told you so," his grandmother said. Neville made to comment but the door to the ward they were standing outside of popped open and a mousy brunette with oddly glazed eyes wandered out of the ward.
She leaned against the wall as she offered an old, battered Conjurations and Catacombs guide to Neville. He took it and hugged it to him, muttering something that sounded like a thanks under his breath. His grandmother blushed and looked away as the woman gestured vaguely toward Harry and Daphne.
Neville again made introductions although the woman did not seem to be paying attention. Instead she took out a bit of foil and handed it to Neville. He thanked her again as a lime-robed Healer ran up to escort her back into the ward.
"Well," his grandmother said, a blush on her cheeks now. "We should be heading back home, Neville."
"Okay," Neville answered with a sad look back toward the ward. He looked back toward Harry and Daphne, doing his best to hide his embarrassment. "See you guys Wednesday? Around eleven?"
"We'll be there," Daphne answered for him. Harry only nodded, peering back into the ward. He knew Neville's parents had been tortured, and that he lived with his grandmother. But he'd never really pieced together what that meant. He felt an ache in his chest as he wondered how that would make him feel.
He was sure Neville got the same proud stories about his parents that he did. But that was all Harry knew of his own parents. Whereas Neville saw the shells that they must have been. It must have been hard to balance in his head.
Either way, Neville smiled as he followed his grandmother out of the hospital, hugging the old book to his chest as he did. When they were out of sight Daphne spoke.
"Did you know?"
"Sort of," Harry said. "I knew they were tortured by Death Eaters after the war. But I wasn't quite sure what that meant."
"I feel so bad," Daphne said.
"Me too," Harry answered. After that, there seemed to be nothing to say. It only took another minute or so to loop around the hospital and wind up back at the Weasley room. Which, Harry noticed, was rather crowded. An anxious looking Mrs. Weasley peered down the hallway and looked rather relieved when Harry appeared. She looked ready to scold him, but she didn't say anything.
Dylan leaned against the wall opposite of Mrs. Weasley, looking bored as he talked to Ron. Judging from Ron's animated hands, they were almost certainly talking about Quidditch. A blonde girl Harry didn't recognize leaned against the wall next to Dylan. She looked enough like the girl who was still gripping his hand for Harry to put two and two together and assume it was her sister, Astoria.
The twins were a bit further down the hallway, talking conspiratorially as they glared toward Dylan and Astoria. Hermione and Ginny were next to Mrs. Weasley. Ginny, he noticed, glared when Daphne appeared at his side.
Astoria was the first who really noticed them. She propelled herself off of the wall and was standing in front of her sister in moments.
"There you are! Introduce me," she said.
"Uh, Astoria, Harry, Harry, my obnoxious little witch of a sister," Daphne said. Harry got the sense that she meant for a different letter to start one of the words, but figured it best not to curse within possible earshot of her parents.
"Hey!" Astoria complained. Dylan chuckled.
"Hello, Astoria," Harry said as diplomatically as possible. The younger girl turned and looked at him. She let her gaze wander up and down before she spoke.
"Huh, you're right, he is hot," Astoria said. Dylan raised a hand to his face to cover his smile and coughed with what was presumably not an illness.
"Astoria!" Daphne scolded, she immediately flushed a deep crimson. It was, Harry thought, the first time he'd ever heard himself referred to as hot.
"What? Twirl him. I want to see the backside," Astoria said.
"No!" Daphne exclaimed.
"You're no fun," Astoria said. She then turned her gaze to Harry and her expression hardened. "If you hurt my sister I'm going to hex your prick off."
"Noted," Harry said. He couldn't help but smile at the girl.
"I think Astoria and I should go to the cafe," Dylan said.
"Mum said she'd be done in a minute," Astoria countered, nodding toward Mister Weasley's room. "And then we can go home and open presents."
Dylan shrugged his shoulders and gave Harry an apologetic look. Mrs. Weasley, for her part, saved Harry from any further assaults from a thirteen year old girl.
"Is this the Daphne Greengrass Ron mentioned?" she asked, walking up to them.
"Yes," Harry answered. "Daphne this is Mrs. Weasley."
"Nice to meet you," she said. Molly nodded.
"You as well. Both of your parents have been wonderful with Arthur. They are excellent healers," Molly answered.
"I'm sorry about what happened," Daphne said.
"That's nice of you to say," she said. At that moment the door to the room opened and a healer that could only have been Daphne and Astoria's mother. She had the same blonde hair, same general facial structure and same build, albeit clearly older.
In fact, Harry thought as he looked at her, he could even see a bit of her in Dylan. She must have looked much like her deceased sister, and probably had at least a head on her husband. The similarities of all their features seemed so prominent Harry wondered how he'd never noticed it before. But figured it may have just been his brain filling it in now that he had more information. She walked up to Mrs. Weasley and smiled.
"Doctor Greengrass was right. His bloodwork is completely back to normal. There's no reason for us to keep him here any longer unless you have concerns. I'll go submit the release paperwork now and then you can go. Just take it easy for a couple of days and come back if anything feels unusual. I've already told him all of that but you know how men can be," she explained. Mrs. Weasley smiled and exchanged a conspiratorial smile with the Healer.
"Thank you. For everything," she said.
"No problem," Healer Greengrass answered with a warm smile. She peered around and continued. "Let me get my brood out of the way and then everyone can be home for Christmas."
Daphne seemed to take that as her cue to leave. She slipped her hand from Harry's and took a step away, before seeming to think that was a bad idea, spinning around, and giving him one last kiss.
"Merry Christmas," she whispered against his lips.
"Merry Christmas," he responded before her mother led all of them away. Mrs. Weasley watched them go then raised her brows at Harry.
"She seems nice," she said.
"She is," Ron answered for him. Harry felt himself blush and look away. Mrs. Weasley, for her part, only grinned at him. She seemed oblivious to the fact that her daughter was glaring at her behind her back. Harry wondered if that was worth his notice. But in less than a half hour an orderly came around and helped them get Mr. Weasley back to Grimmauld place.
A cheerful Sirius greeted them. When he saw Mr. Weasley he disappeared for a few minutes, only to reappear with an armful of dusty bottles of wine. He insisted everyone have at least a glass. And, that rather quickly turned into two or three.
A few other members of the Order of the Phoenix filtered in throughout the evening as they kept a festive little party going. It wasn't until half of their number was passed out on the furniture that Mrs. Weasley insisted they head to bed. It wasn't until he was nearly back to his bedroom that Sirius cornered him.
"Harry!" he said. Harry turned and looked at his rather drunk Godfather. But honestly, the hallway seemed a little wobbly, so maybe he wasn't in a position to comment.
"I talked to people for you," he said.
"Thanks," Harry answered. Sirius seemed to forget his train of thought for a moment.
"You're welcome," he said. They stared at each other.
"About what?"
"Oh! Wednesday. You're good. Tonks will take you and Ron, and, well, anyone else that wants to go to the Alley to the Leaky Cauldron. She, Fletcher and Kingsley will stay there but be discreet," Sirius said.
"That's awesome," Harry smiled. He had no idea how his Godfather had managed it. But whatever he'd done had clearly worked.
"I know I am," Sirius said. Harry wasn't sure that was the appropriate response but shrugged his shoulders in as much of a complacent agreement as he could muster.
"Thank you," he said.
"No problemo. There was one more thing," he reached around toward his pockets, seemed to realize that whatever he was looking for wasn't there, found his wand, and summoned a small package. He handed it to Harry.
"What's this?" he asked.
"I wasn't going to give it to you until you went back to school. But it will make me feel better," Sirius said. Harry opened the box and peered inside at the small mirror.
"What's it for?" he asked. He could sense magic from it, but nothing about his reflection seemed abnormal.
"Contact me! Your father and I used to use similar ones in detention to chat. If you say my name three times mine will buzz and vice-versa. Keep it with you on Wednesday if there's any issue it can get me or the order there right away," Sirius said.
"Handy," Harry answered.
"I was trying to think of a way around the fact that you can't really use Hedwig to chat with me. If you need anything at school the magic should be strong enough to reach from Hogwarts assuming I enchanted it right. Contact me at any time. I tested short distances but could only do one side of the house to another," he answered.
"That's really cool," he said. He hugged his Godfather. The man froze for a moment at the contact but hugged him back before Harry ducked into his bedroom. He changed and got into bed.
He lay there for a few moments before a thought stuck him. He held up the mirror and whispered Sirius a few times. In a moment, a confused looking Sirius appeared in the mirror.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Well you said any time," Harry shrugged. Sirius laughed and shook his head.
"Go to bed Harry, Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," Harry responded with a smirk. "And thank you." He put the mirror down on the bedside table and tried to get the silly smile off his face as he rested back into the pillows.
It didn't work, really. But he didn't try that hard. He let sleep come as he wondered if perhaps this was what the holidays were supposed to feel like. If this was more what it meant to have a family. Or, really, multiple families.
He wondered what Daphne was doing, and hoped it involved dreams of hot tubs. But the fact that he'd see her on Wednesday made him feel all the better about it. It was the first real time he could remember looking forward to something that was part of the holiday, rather than simply his friends returning to school.
He felt happy, he realized as he drifted off to sleep. And hoped that his dreams wouldn't involve snakes. There were so many better things to think of, afterall. He sighed in contentment as he finally drifted off to sleep.
Author's Note: As always thanks for reading and reviewing. I do appreciate all of the support I receive. If you with to support me further I am available on PAT RE ON at TE7writes. The next ten chapters of this story are currently live there as well as the conclusion of my other WiP, Cleansing the Sins of the Past.
Up next here we shift back to the campaign for a look into the eyes of Arestes to cover their Christmas sessions before we get a Padma chapter! Thanks again for your continued support.