Winter 1991

Ronald Weasley

Ron wasn't a great teacher. Despite how hard he tried to convey Sal's lessons and words he could remember, nothing seemed to work just right. What had taken Sal seconds to explain took him minutes. Minutes which were filled with Daphne's glares and Astoria's whining about wanting to do something actually interesting.

It took most of the afternoon before Tracey and Daphne could both cast the disarming charm reliably, and even then both made mistakes on every third or fourth attempt. Yet, Ron reasoned that their progress was a lot better than he could have hoped for considering they had only him to lean on for advice and he felt a small amount of pride in seeing his friends succeed.

As the sky darkened in the early winter evening, their cheeks were bitten red by the cold air, and they finally decided to call an end to things. Ron found himself looking forward to dinner, Tracey telling him that the Greengrass house elves were even better cooks than the ones at Hogwarts. Ron had lost weight since the start of the year, had too many nights of feeling sick and stressed, and was sure he had gained a few inches of height. He could eat more, he thought, to put on some more weight lest he end up looking too skinny. After all, he swallowed, he had been rather gaunt looking in his vision of Charlie's death and it was just another way he might avoid the moment. Of course, the Hogwarts food was good, but nearly as good as his mother's which meant even when he was feeling well he didn't eat nearly as much as he did at home.

His stomach rumbled as the four of them headed back towards the manor. Ron hoped for shepherd's pie.

- SS -

Winter 1991

Percy Weasley

Percy descended the staircase from his dormitory into the Gryffindor common room. The room had transformed over the last few days with large spiralling lengths of green and gold tinsel hanging across the length of the ceiling. The room seemed to glow even more than it usually did as the warm light of the torches and fires reflected from the metallic bulbs that dotted two large evergreen trees that stood in opposite corners. Percy's shoes clicked lightly against the stone floors.

The room was quiet, unusually so for the time of day. A majority of Hogwarts students had left the castle to make their way home, and Gryffindor was no different. Percy's gaze swept over the room examining the remaining faces until his eyes rested on Harry Potter. The boy-who-lived sat alone on one of the worn crimson sofas, a book resting in his hands but his eyes didn't move over the pages. Instead, Harry seemed to be staring at the ceiling, his brows furrowed.

"Good morning, Harry," Percy said, keeping his tone crisp and formal.

Harry's head snapped upwards. "Morning," the boy mumbled back.

"Are you alright? You look… distracted."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I'm alright. Percy, can I ask you something?"

Percy straightened course, who else would you ask?"Yes, what is it?"

Harry gave a small worried glance around the room as though making sure they wouldn't be overheard. "Do you know of any magical artefact… something rare? Something important enough that it would be really valuable if stolen?"

Percy blinked at the question. He knew of about a thousand things that were worth a lot of money, he could write an entire book just about artefacts that had significant worth and history. A small frown grew on his does Harry need that?

He couldn't help but wonder if the boy-who-lived still needed help, despite what Dumbledore had told Percy and Ron. After all, what if there was something truly evil about his muggle family? They certainly sounded evil, and well, Percy imagined that a powerful artefact would be a fine way of getting around the statute of secrecy. A nervous tightness flooded his chest.

"Magical artefacts are, by nature, often imbued with power that makes them desirable and valuable. But why are you asking about something like this? Has something happened?" Percy asked.

Harry hesitated, his hands tightening slightly on the edge of the book. "Not exactly, I'm just trying to figure something out."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "Harry, if this has anything to do with danger to yourself or others, you need to be honest with me."

"It's nothing like that," Harry said quickly. He straightened slightly, meeting Percy's gaze head-on. "I just need to know. What would someone want so badly they'd risk everything for it?"

"A lot of things, it depends on what the wizard or witch wanted…" Percy replied. "I mean, the founders all left artefacts behind, some of which haven't been seen in decades. Not to mention the huge amount of dark things. But, you shouldn't get involved with them, Harry. Most wizards who lust after them end up either becoming dark or falling for some curse. It's Goblin's business really, it's why they employ so many curse breakers at Gringotts."

"Right," Harry nodded.

A moment of silence hung between them. Percy couldn't help but worry about Harry being alone for the holidays and whether or not that had an effect on his interest in magical artefacts. Grim thoughts filled his mind of Harry stewing on his aunt and uncle and deciding to kill them over the summer break. Percy nearly shivered, he wouldn't have blamed Harry if he had done that. Not after all he had heard from Harry and Ron. Still, Percy worried for him. He wished someone more had stayed over the break, perhaps Neville or Hermione. Somebody who could steer Harry elsewhere.

"Harry," Percy said lightly. "I have a meeting now with Professor Dumbledore, would you care to join me? I know it's not that fun, but I know Dumbledore likes you."

Harry's eyes widened. "He does? Really?"

"Well, even Professor Dumbledore fought in the war. I think a lot of people, even old powerful wizards, probably owe you a great deal. Sometimes, Harry, I wonder if you know just how famous you actually are. You should read your own books sometime."

"My own books? They've written books about me?"

"Yeah, my sister, Ginny used to read them. But, I don't think they're very… realistic. They're fiction more than anything." Percy tilted his head slightly. "Maybe you should look into them, especially about whether or not you've received money for them."

Harry just shrugged. "I don't really need money, I have more than I could ever spend… I think."

Percy nodded. "It's just a suggestion. Anyways, would you like to come with me? To meet the headmaster?"

Harry nodded and stood to his feet, leaving the textbook he had been reading on the sofa.

Percy led Harry through the empty corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. The absence of so many of the students made the castle seem even larger than it usually did. Even the smallest corridors echoed and felt cavernous as they passed through them.

When they reached the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office, it shifted its eyes towards them and slid aside with a rough scraping sound without either of them having to mutter a password. Percy smiled. He wondered how much magic was infused in the stone and whether or not he could make something similar if he was given enough time. Maybe, he thought, after he retired from the ministry, he would spend his older years trying to master some of the same magic the founders used to make Hogwarts.

Percy gestured for Harry to step into the staircase first, and the two ascended carefully in silence.

They entered the circular office and Percy took a deep breath of the warm air. He couldn't help but feel like he stood in a place of greatness, where countless Hogwarts headmasters had ruled over the school with both knowledge and power. It was, in some ways, like a throne. A throne that Percy didn't want, but one he appreciated.

"Ah, Percy, Harry, come in," Dumbledore greeted warmly. The headmaster sat at his desk, his long silver beard dragging across its surface, which was dotted with tiny specs of red as if it had been decorated for Christmas. The headmaster's usual half-moon glasses were replaced by large spectacles that resembled wrapped candies.

Sitting across from him in one of the two chairs, Harry met his Great Aunt Muriel's eyes. She seemed, somehow, younger than when they had last met. Her skin was not so wrinkled and her horribly styled hair was dyed a shade darker than it should have been. Percy's throat felt dry as he imagined her asking the question he knew was coming.

"Ah, good, you've come," Aunt Muriel said in a sharp, commanding tone. "I was beginning to think you'd dawdled. Who is this then?"

Percy stepped forward. "This is Harry Potter, and Harry this is my Great Auntie Muriel."

Aunt Muriel's stern expression softened as her eyes landed on Harry. For a moment, she seemed to study him, her sharp gaze sweeping over his face. Then, much to Percy's surprise, a smile broke across her lips.

"The famous Harry Potter," she said lightly, "The boy who lived. It is an honour to meet you, young man, although you may wish to clear up that scruffy hair of yours. Not very befitting of the saviour of the wizarding world."

Percy's face paled, feeling suddenly embarrassed by Muriel's focus on hairstyles. Percy wondered if all wizards of her age cared about how well-kept someone's hair was or if she was just particularly special.

"It's, um, nice to meet you," Harry said awkwardly.

Aunt Muriel waved a hand dismissively, though her smile remained. "No need for that, boy. You've done more than enough to earn your place in any room, though I'd have thought someone would have taught you better posture by now. Stand up straight!"

Percy cringed as Harry shifted his weight to straighten his back.

"Better," she said approvingly, before turning her attention to Dumbledore. "I've always said young people these days need a firm hand. Letting them slouch about as though they've no sense of pride—it's no wonder the world's gone the way it has."

The headmaster just nodded politely. "I'm sure that's not why Mr Potter has come here today, Muriel."

"No," she sniffed, "I suppose not. Come to stand about while I talk to Percy, I imagine. Well, sit down Harry, while I speak to my great-nephew. No need to stand about."

Harry moved to take the other seat as Muriel's eyes shifted to Percy.

"Your answer?" she asked.

Percy swallowed dryly and his heart thumped heavy in his chest.

Weeks ago he had stood in the astronomy tower with Penelope and gone over his future. The both of them discussed what they wanted out of life, and Percy couldn't imagine having made this decision without Penny's help. After all, she had encouraged him to do what was best for him no matter what anyone else thought. And, how could he not listen? The moonlight had reflected off her hair in such an amazing way, like a cascading waterfall. He swallowed.

"Yes," he choked out. "I'd like to help with the Prewett businesses."

A smile spread across Aunt Muriel's face that reminded Percy of a lioness if she was about to pounce across the desk and tear out Dumbledore's throat.

"It's good to see one of my nephews has some sense," she nodded and stood to her feet. "That's all I came here to hear boy, I'll be in touch more often and frequently as you finish up your schooling. Please remember to make choices which benefit the Prewett name moving forward, I will expect it of you."

She moved across the room to stand next to Percy. He felt as if he had been knocked over by a Thestral, his entire life changing before his eyes. It was one thing to decide on a course of action and an entirely different thing to actually take it. His breathing was short and hard.

Aunt Muriel leaned towards him. "Be friends with Harry," she said lightly, "The boy-who-lived is a powerful political tool."

She stepped back and gave him one last smile before she marched herself over to Floo. Percy stood in shock at his own actions as she took a pinch of powder and disappeared in green wisps.

"Muriel is a woman who gets what she wants," Dumbledore said, smiling. "Please, Percy, take a seat."

Percy stepped over to the chair that his aunt had been using and sunk into I make the right choice?He bit his lips.

"Now that we are all done and over with that meeting," Dumbledore said, "I think it's time for an early Christmas present. Don't you all agree?"

Harry shared a confused look with Percy.

The headmaster reached behind his desk and retrieved a small package before he passed it over the table to Harry.

"Your father left this in my possession," Dumbledore said softly. "I think it's only right that I return it to whom it truly belongs."

James Potter?

Harry looked down at the parcel and then up at the headmaster. "Really? My Father's?"

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm afraid so, I often think about what might have happened had he never lent it to me. Perhaps…" Dumbledore looked away for a moment. "Nonetheless, Harry, it is yours now."

Percy watched as Harry tore open the paper and revealed the fabric inside, fabric that seemed to be woven from the stars itself. It looked to Percy almost like someone had made clothing out of the same spell that was used to bind the sky of the great hall, the small stars twinkling on the fabric's surface.

"What is it?" Harry asked as he ran his fingers across the material.

Dumbledore just smiled. "Perhaps, you should try it on."

Harry stood from his chair and flung the fabric over his shoulders, where once his body was there was now nothing but open air.

Percy stared at him almost ? One of those! Aren't they incredibly expensive!?

"An invisibility cloak…" Percy choked.

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, the finest one ever made. A Potter heirloom, I am told."

"An heirloom?" Percy's eyebrows almost came together.

An invisibility cloak as an heirloom didn't make any sense. He knew that they only lasted a couple of decades at most, how could one have lasted long enough to be an heirloom? Percy frowned, if the headmaster wasn't lying, which Percy knew he probably wasn't, then Harry had been given something incredibly special.

"I've never had anything before… that belonged to my parents…" Harry said softly.

Percy could have sworn he saw a tinge of sadness in the headmaster's eyes. He felt his own chest hurt a little on Harry's behalf. Still, he couldn't help but think about his own future, it weighed heavy on his shoulders.

"Your parents were good people," Dumbledore said in return.