A/N: Once again it was difficult to cut down the word count on this chapter. It may just be inevitable that chapters will grow in length as the fic gets more complex and more side characters demand my attention in every scene. I'm trying my best to keep the pace moving along so the story doesn't drag while also fleshing out every character interaction that I can afford to!
As with his ditching of the Dueling Club, Harry worried about what repercussions might come from the wild night out he'd indulged in. Would his friends be cross with him for his mother being the one to bust them? Would they think he got special treatment for getting off with just a slap on the wrist? Would Dumbledore learn of his transgression and seek further punishment?
But nothing more came of it as the winter term drew to a close. Aside from a few nods and knowing winks from his fellow party-goers in the halls, nobody acknowledged what had happened that night. Lily did not bring the party to the Headmaster's attention, and true to her word, she let Harry off with a light detention before dropping the matter entirely.
Harry's primary concern was how Tracey would act towards him after their shared moment of intimacy. Would she act clingy and want to spend every waking moment with Harry in the days to come? But to his relief, Tracey treated him completely normal in the days to come, as though nothing out of the ordinary had transpired between them. It seemed that she too was true to her word and wasn't looking for anything serious, which was a relief (and also mildly disappointing, to be honest – she had made the night one to remember).
Besides, the party was soon forgotten as Winter Break arrived and students boarded the Hogwarts Express to return home to their families. The atmosphere was especially festive; students were eager to see their parents, jubilant that nothing bad had happened to them during their months apart in the war. Spirits were high, as Minister James Potter seemingly had the Dark Lord on the back foot, unable to retaliate properly.
That only gave Harry a sense of foreboding as he remained fully in the dark about Voldemort's plans. An enemy you couldn't see was ten times more frightening than one you could, and he was uneasy about the relative peace and silence that had settled over Britain. Were things truly going as well as they seemed? Or was Voldemort lulling them all into a false sense of security, before he struck when they least expected it?
This would not be a holiday of relaxation for Harry. Not only out of paranoia, but because he had major plans. He needed to touch base with Bill and Fleur and finish setting up his safe house in Ashewick. He had his prize money from the tournament burning a hole in his pocket, and he had a mental checklist of items he already wanted to buy. Potions to brew, ritual ingredients to set up...he just needed an excuse to slip away for a few hours to get it all done.
That might prove more difficult than expected, however. Harry arrived at Platform 9 to find a miniature army waiting to pick him and Dahlia up, including Arthur and Molly Weasley, Sirius, Kingsley, and a number of undercover Aurors. "Over here!" Molly waved to the Potter siblings. "We're going straight back to Grimmauld all together. Oh, and you too, Damian dear!"
Damian Dursley paused, confused, on his way across the platform towards the exit. "Er...I'm going home with my mum," he frowned.
"Your mother is meeting us there," said Molly. "We can explain everything when we arrive."
Damian looked quite confused, but he shrugged and waited with his cousins for the rest of the group to arrive. Hermione and Ginny hustled over soon after, having been caught up on prefect patrol, while Ron sauntered over minutes later, giving Sally-Anne Perks a sloppy kiss goodbye before joining his parents.
"Weren't you going to introduce us to your...friend?" Molly said hopefully, watching Sally-Anne depart the station alone.
"Maybe another time," Ron shrugged. "When things aren't so crazy around here."
"When you're not busy sticking your tongue down her throat," Ginny scoffed. Molly looked scandalized by this, while Ron looked utterly unashamed and Sirius and Kingsley stifled their chuckles of amusement.
The group traveled to 12 Grimmauld Place together via Portkey, where they were greeted by the dulcet tones of Walburga Black screeching her head off about Mudbloods and blood traitors infesting her home. Harry assisted Sirius in yanking the curtains over her portrait, succeeding only after Sirius whipped out his wand and cast a spell that sent his mother sprawling backwards from the frame, howling in indignation.
"You'll never know how lucky you are to have a mother as wonderful as Lily," Sirius panted as they returned to the group. "Being raised by such a monster does a real number on your mental health."
"Believe me, I know," Harry chuckled. He too had been raised by monsters, and felt lucky every single day to have parents as great as James and Lily Potter.
Of course, this reminder of his true upbringing made things awkward a few minutes later when he encountered his Aunt Petunia in the kitchen, greeting her son Damian with a tender hug. She's not the same Petunia that abused you, Harry had to remind himself. Be civil.
Petunia spotted Harry and gave him a brief nod of acknowledgment. Then, to his immense surprise, she shuffled forward and gave him a stiff hug, which he had to fight hard not to flinch away from.
"You killed the Lestrange woman?" she whispered in his ear as she held him close.
"Er...yes," Harry said awkwardly.
Petunia pulled away and gave him a curious look. She nodded jerkily and patted Harry on the cheek in what he assumed to be a gesture of gratitude. "Come, Damian, I'd like to speak with you alone," she said, leaving the room. Damian merely shrugged at Harry before following his mother from the room. Harry stood there, bewildered by the exchange, wondering how his aunt could simultaneously be a hundred times kinder to him, and also the exact same severe woman he'd know in his past life.
Harry brought his things upstairs, to the room he was sharing with Neville and Ron. He heard them whispering in hushed tones, but they went silent as they heard him approach from down the hall. They pretended to be busy with unpacking when he entered, despite the urgency of their tones earlier.
Still not trusting me, eh? Harry thought, a bit disgruntled. Whatever. At least no one will ask questions if I slip out for an afternoon…
Damian joined the group soon after, as all of the other rooms were full. "Feeling ready for Slytherin next month, Dursley?" Ron quipped as the younger boy began to unpack. "With Malfoy off the team, it should be a cake-walk."
"Yeah, sure," Damian shrugged. Harry noticed that Damian looked troubled by something, though he didn't acknowledge it. Did it have something to do with his mother's presence here? Why was she staying at Grimmauld, and not at Privet Drive? Were the Dursleys in danger? If so, where were Vernon and Dudley?
Harry didn't get his answer until late that evening. He got up for a glass of water in the middle of the night, only to hear voices wafting out of the kitchen as he approached. When he entered, he found his mother and Petunia sitting around the dining table, a nearly-empty bottle of wine between them.
"Can't sleep, dear?" Lily frowned when she saw him.
"Just getting water," said Harry. He poured himself a glass, trying not to eavesdrop as Petunia picked up the conversation again. But it was difficult not to overhear with how loud she was speaking; by the sounds of it, she had been the one consuming most of the wine.
"About ruddy time, isn't it?" Petunia slurred. "It's been a long time coming."
"I've tried telling you for years, Tuney," Lily sympathized. "It will be for the best, I know it will."
"I should have put my foot down earlier, like you always said," Petunia muttered. "The bastard just wouldn't listen, no matter how many times I told him."
Harry had never heard Aunt Petunia swear before, nor had he witnessed her drinking to excess. She looked distraught, as though she hadn't slept in days; he got the disturbing feeling that something was very wrong.
"Er...Mum?" he asked. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, dear, everything's fine," Lily said quickly.
"No it ruddy well isn't!" Petunia said indignantly. "My husband's turned his back on his own boy! It's an outrage, a damned outrage!"
"Your aunt and uncle are going through a rough patch, that's all," Lily grimaced. "Nothing to concern yourself with, dear—"
"Rough patch? A rough patch?" Petunia laughed openly. "That's rich! A rough patch is when you argue over finances, not when you disown your own child! It's unacceptable, and I should have left his sorry arse years ago!"
"You're leaving Uncle Vernon?" Harry blurted out in shock.
"Already have," Petunia sniffed haughtily. "And I won't be going back to the mean bastard, no matter what Lily says!"
"I'm not saying you have to," Lily said quickly. "I'm just saying you should think of Dudley, and not make things worse for him—"
"He's just as bad as Vernon," Petunia sighed. "I should have seen it coming. Vernon taught him to hate his own brother, and I don't recognize the boy I thought I raised anymore. He's a spiteful monster, just like his father."
Harry had to stifle a laugh. Was Petunia really that blind to how much of a prick Dudley was? He'd been a spitting image of Vernon for most of Harry's previous life, joining in on the bullying of Harry, easily hating whatever his small-minded father hated. Was Petunia truly so unable to see it? Had she been blinded to the truth in his old life because she, too, had been on the side of hate herself?
But his amusement quickly gave way to pity as Petunia broke down in heavy sobs. "Oh, poor Damian!" she wailed. "No child should have to think he ruined their parents' marriage...it's all my fault...I should have taken his side earlier, should have stopped Vernon's nonsense, but I was too afraid—"
"You were a victim of his abuse," Lily reassured her sister. "Don't beat yourself up over it. What matters now is how you respond, and how you keep things together for your children's sake."
Lily scooted over and embraced Petunia in a hug. She looked up at Harry and glanced towards the door, indicating that he should leave. He hastened from the kitchen, realizing he'd heard more than he ought to, but mind ablaze with the revelation.
Petunia and Vernon, divorcing? It was unfathomable to him. They'd always been a united front against him growing up...two sides of the same coin, eager to stamp out any trace of freakishness out of their nephew. It was difficult to reconcile the Petunia he once knew with the one before him now, especially given the psychological damage he still bore from their abuse.
But hopefully Damian would escape the same fate he did. He would still bear the weight of being hated by his father, but at least he had someone in his corner via his mother. Harry would just have to be more attentive to his cousin and be as supportive as he could in the days, weeks, months to come. Divorce was uncommon in the wizarding world, and Harry could only imagine how difficult it would be to reckon with.
Molly Weasley put the kids to work around Grimmauld in the days to come. Or at least she tried to – they'd already done a remarkable job of making the space livable the summer before. Mostly she just invented odd tasks for them to perform, like dusting the study without magic, or reorganizing the library bookshelves by authors' last name. That was fine by the teens – so long as they made themselves look busy whenever an adult was around, they were able to converse freely.
Harry did his best to cheer Damian up whenever they were assigned to the same task. He goaded the younger boy into making animated step stools race around the parlor until Lily walked in and yelled at them for using their wands. He even made the grave mistake of challenging Damian to a wrestling match, which ended with him flat on his back, out of breath and sore in parts of the body he didn't even know he had. Damian always humored him, but there was a lingering sadness that Harry just couldn't shake...he hoped the boy's support system at Hogwarts would be strong enough to overcome this rough period.
Harry also spent a surprising amount of time with his sister. He'd barely seen Dahlia at Hogwarts the previous term, between her Hospital Wing duties, her friends, and her relationship with Neville. But she was especially chatty over the vacation, asking him about his N.E.W.T. levels and making small talk about their classmates. Harry didn't know what brought on the recent positive treatment and didn't ask – it just felt good to spend time with her again.
"A little birdie told me something interesting the other day," Dahlia remarked one afternoon as they were carrying boxes of junk up to the attic. "Katie Bell said you and Tracey Davis were getting handsy at a party last weekend."
"Did she now?" Harry grinned. "You can't trust everything you hear, I'm afraid."
"Oh don't worry, I got quite the graphic description," Dahlia smirked. "Did you at least buy her a nice meal before you grabbed her—eep!" She cackled and dove out of the way as Harry dropped his box and attempted to playfully grab her and cover her mouth.
"Someone's awfully nosy," Harry fired back. "You weren't eager to share details of what you and McLaggen got up to last year...and do I even want to know what Neville's been grabbing lately?"
Dahlia's mirthful grin faded at Harry's comment, and she suddenly looked troubled. "Er...no, he hasn't—" she said hesitantly. "Actually, we're kinda on a break right now."
That was news to Harry. "Really?" he said. "What happened? I mean...if you want to talk about it."
Dahlia set her own box down and sat atop it miserably. "He's been acting really insecure and paranoid lately," she sighed. "Kinda like how he was during the Triwizard Tournament two years ago."
"Still going on about me going dark, is he?" Harry grumbled.
"It's not just you," said Dahlia. "Our family's really powerful right now, you know. With Dad being who he is, and Mum being so well-respected...I think he's intimidated by us."
"He wasn't too eager to associate with us when our name was being dragged through the mud last year, either," Harry scoffed.
"That's what I keep trying to tell him," Dahlia groaned. "Popularity comes and goes. He's the bloody Boy Who Lived – he shouldn't be walking around with a chip on his shoulder! People look up to him as much as they do you and Dad, but he's too jealous to see it."
"So you broke up with him over it?"
"Not exactly," Dahlia sighed. "Just told him I wanted some space for a while. Part of me hopes he figures it out on his own and apologizes, but I'm not sure he's capable of that yet."
As always, Harry marveled at his sister's emotional maturity despite her young age. Granted, she knew Neville much better than Harry did, but she was insightful enough to put the pieces together of the boy's psyche better than he ever could himself. She seemed to have hit the nail on the head of why he was acting so strange towards Harry, both this year and in the past.
"Well, sorry you're going through that," he commiserated, taking her hand and squeezing it for reassurance. "If you need to talk about it, or anything else, I won't judge you."
Dahlia nodded slowly and looked up at him curiously. "Are you okay, Harry?" she asked pointedly.
"Er...what do you mean?" Harry asked.
"You seem stressed all the time," Dahlia remarked. "And you've got so much responsibility now. I worry sometimes you're going to crack under all the pressure, especially because you don't like asking others for help."
"Oh," said Harry, feeling once more like Dahlia was hitting too close to home. "I'm doing okay, thanks. I can handle it."
"It's okay if you can't, you know," said Dahlia. "I can keep secrets too, you know, even from Neville and Mum and Dad. I don't like that curse you got on your hand and have a bad feeling you're going to keep doing whatever it is that made you get it in the first place."
Harry sighed heavily at her words. He believed her completely – he would trust Dahlia with his life at this point. But he didn't want to burden her with the truth just yet. The weight of an entire wizarding war was too much for a fifteen-year-old girl to bear, no matter how mature she may be.
"I'll be more careful, I promise," he said. He pulled her in for a hug, and Dahlia held him tight, as though silently communicating that she had his back. He appreciated the gesture, and knew that one day, when the moment was right, she would be of of the first people he told the truth about his past. But not right now – not when things were so stressful for everybody. He could soldier on alone for a while longer.
Later in the week, word came that an Order of the Phoenix meeting would be held that Friday evening. Harry planned to attend and relay the information to the other teens afterward as usual, but it turned out not to be necessary. When members began meeting in the conference room, the teens all followed Harry into the room, hoping to slip in unnoticed, but Molly Weasley spotted them at once.
"Out, quickly, dears!" Molly tutted, trying to shoo them from the room. "The meeting starts soon, and it's adults only!"
"It's alright, Mrs. Weasley," Neville placated her. "My Gran says I can attend meetings now. She says I'm nearly of-age and need to start learning how to represent my own name."
Interesting, Harry thought. He wondered if he'd gotten through to Augusta during their last conversation...was she finally treating him like an adult instead of a helpless child? He hoped that would help boost his confidence and reduce his feelings of insecurity around the Potter family.
"I came of-age in September, Mrs. Weasley, so I'd like to attend as well," Hermione said firmly.
Molly deflated a bit at this. "Fine, you two can come," she huffed. "But the rest of you, out!"
"Come off it, Mum, I'm of-age in just two months!" Ron huffed. "And Neville will tell me everything anyway!"
"And Ron will tell me!" Ginny piped in.
"And Ginny will tell me!" Dahlia agreed fervently.
"And I'll tell Damian," Harry supplied helpfully, not wishing for his cousin to be left out of the loop.
"Fine!" Molly groaned, throwing her hands up in defeat before wandering off across the room. "You can all come. Merlin forgive me for trying to spare the innocence of children…"
The group went their separate ways to mingle around the room. Harry spotted Tonks in the corner, chatting with Kingsley, and made his way over to her.
"Wotcher, Tonks," he greeted her. "How's Auror re-training going?"
"Harry!" she smiled, giving him a hug. "Very well, thank you. I've just been approved to re-join the department full-time...turns out I kept most of my instincts intact."
"Good for you," Harry grinned. "And how's the memory recovery coming along?"
"Eh, it is what it is," Tonks shrugged. "I've had to accept that I won't get back what I lost, but I can still fill in most of the gaps with Pensieve memories and by talking to close friends. You've been one of the toughest nuts to crack, though."
"Me?" Harry frowned. "I don't get it."
"I hear a lot of tall tales about the 'Hero of Hogwarts' these days," Tonks winked. "I assumed most of them are just exaggerations, but the more I learn about them, the more true they start to become. One might think you're an honest-to-Merlin superhero."
"I've tried telling you Harry's the best of all of us," Cedric smirked, walking over to join them. "You probably haven't even heard the craziest of the true stories about him."
That's certainly true, Harry thought, remembering his voyage through the Veil of Death. "I've just been lucky, that's all," he said humbly.
"It is not luck, trust me," said Fleur as she sauntered over to the group. "Ze things I saw 'Arry do in the Tournament I will not soon forget."
"Well, you were the one in the lake and the maze, not me," Cedric grinned. He kissed Fleur on both cheeks in greeting; Tonks gave her an odd scrutinizing look, as though trying to place her. Fleur Delacour was not a face one forgot easily, which must have made it doubly frustrating for Tonks not to remember her.
"Bill was just looking for you, 'Arry," Fleur informed him. "He had some questions about our...project."
"Oh...sure," said Harry, trying to sound casual. He bid Tonks and Cedric farewell and followed Fleur across the room.
"I might need your help in calming him down," Fleur whispered in his ear as they wove through the crowd. "Bill is behaving quite odd lately."
"Odd how?" Harry frowned.
"Just paranoid and afraid all the time," Fleur sighed. "I 'ope it is nothing, but he does not handle the pressure well."
That was certainly concerning to hear. They found Bill standing in a quiet corner of the room, fidgeting with a drink in his hand, looking skittish.
"Evening, Bill...having a nice holiday?" Harry greeted him.
"It's been...quiet," Bill muttered darkly as he sipped from his drink. "Bit too quiet if you ask me."
"How has our project been coming along?" Harry asked pointedly. "Any word out of Egypt?"
Bill looked supremely uncomfortable as he glanced across the room. "Been a quiet few months," he grumbled. "My contact still hasn't responded...we'd have to go to him directly, and leaving the country may raise questions."
"Only if we went legally," Harry pointed out. "You can get illegal Portkeys in Knockturn for a reasonable price."
"I don't even want to know how you know that," Bill scoffed. "And I'll just assume it was a joke."
"Did you think we'd be able to do this without bending a few rules?" Harry chuckled. "Winning a war requires taking some risks."
"We wouldn't have to take so many risks if we had some bloody help," Bill grumbled. "You continue to assume we can do this all ourselves, like an arrogant child—"
"Bill, that is enough," Fleur hissed, elbowing him subtly in the ribs. No one seemed to notice, however, as Dumbledore swept into the room soon after, and everyone took their seats around the table. Harry gave Bill an exasperated look before taking his seat beside Dahlia and his mother, across from Snape. He spied Neville, Ron, Hermione and Ginny seated farther down the opposite row, looking excited but somber at the tense atmosphere.
"Thank you all for coming," Dumbledore said as he took his seat. "Minister Potter sends his regards, but he remains busy with official business and will be unable to join us today. It has been many months since we last met, but I wanted to touch base with everyone while we were all available. How has the war been treating you all?"
"Quieter than expected," Moody grunted, sounding almost displeased by this fact. "The Ministry's done a fine job keeping the Dark Lord at bay thus far."
"That it has," nodded Hestia Jones. "Which begs the question, Albus: what's the point of these meetings, exactly? We don't need to be operating in the shadows when the Minister himself is sympathetic to our cause."
"I find it can be helpful to have multiple teams working on the same problem at once," Dumbledore said diplomatically. "While it is beneficial to have the Minister's office on our side, that may not always be the case in the future."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry frowned. "You think my dad's going to stop helping you fight Voldemort?"
"Allow me to rephrase," Dumbledore said with a calming smile. "If, for example, the Ministry experiences another upheaval and Minister Potter loses favor within our government, it will be important to have backup plans in place to stem the bleeding and keep the fight going no matter the political climate."
The others looked reassured by this answer, but Harry wasn't entirely convinced. He was almost certain that Dumbledore knew (or at least suspected) that the Order of the Stag operated independently of his own Order, and was preparing for a future in which the Potters no longer factored into his plans. He was in Harry and James' good graces for the moment, but that hadn't always been the case and may not be in the future.
"I think we all have one big question regarding the war at the moment," said Dumbledore, turning to Snape. "And that is what Voldemort is planning next. What can you tell us, Severus?"
"The Dark Lord is playing his cards close to the chest," Snape said irritably. "He remains frustrated by Minister Potter's efforts to restrict his spending and movements, and doesn't trust any of his followers for fear of another leak like the one that led to the last raid."
"Surely he does not blame you for that leak?" Dumbledore asked. "Your information has been most valuable, Severus, as you remain our one warning alarm before something bad happens."
"And what if I sound the alarm to foil his next plan?" Snape grumbled. "What will he think of me then? How can you expect the Dark Lord to trust me when you also expect me to hand over every tidbit he passes along?"
"Do you mean to suggest you are keeping things from us, Severus?" asked Dumbledore.
"I suggest only that I am being tested!" Snape huffed. "You've no idea the minefield I must walk every day to avoid suspicion! If I am being cagey with you, it is because I fear feeding information that will lead the Dark Lord back to me and losing his confidence."
"I understand the difficulty of your position, Severus—" Dumbledore sighed.
"Do you!?" Snape snapped. "Because you continue to ask more of me than I can give! I have been given nothing of substance lately to bring to the Dark Lord, and he gives nothing in return!"
"I will help you concoct a story to appease him," Dumbledore said placatingly. "But you know how crucial our foreknowledge of his plans may be, and must endeavor to learn more about them."
Snape looked displeased by this response, but he merely nodded. Snape and Dumbledore aren't getting along? Harry thought, intrigued. He'd always assumed the two men to be in lockstep, but perhaps a gulf was widening between them. He would have to think about whether he could use this to his advantage in the future.
"Would anyone else like to bring business to the table?" Dumbledore asked the room. "All ideas are welcome."
There was an awkward silence as the Order members looked to one another. Then, Bill Weasley raised his hand.
"Sir?" said Bill awkwardly. "I believe Harry has something he'd like to ask you."
All eyes turned to a bewildered Harry. "Er...do I?" asked Harry, confused.
"About that project we've been working on together," Bill urged him on. "Wouldn't you like to involve the Headmaster in our plans?"
A chill ran down Harry's spine. He realized at once what Bill was doing...he was bound by the Unbreakable Vow not to reveal their horcrux hunt, but he hoped to pressure Harry publicly into sharing the information himself. Fleur's eyes went wide as she made the same realization as Harry.
"What kind of plans are these, Mr. Potter?" asked Dumbledore.
"I think Bill is mistaken, sir," Harry said cautiously, feeling the curious eyes of his friends and family upon him. "It is just a curse-breaking project of ours. We are managing just fine on our own."
"But perhaps it would be easier with more people working on the problem," said Bill. "Considering how dangerous this project may be—"
"Bill, perhaps now is not ze time," Fleur said, grabbing Bill's hand and silently urging him to be quiet.
"Harry, dear, what is Bill talking about?" asked a confused Lily. Dumbledore similarly looked perplexed by the cryptic request.
"I agree with Fleur," said Harry. "Now is not the time."
"Then when is the time?" Bill demanded. "How long do you plan to wait? When will you set your little feud with Dumbledore aside and let him—"
"Bill, enough!" Harry growled. He could not believe Bill was doing this here, out in the open. Did he not realize the danger this conversation posed? The suspicions it would raise?
"Perhaps the three of us can speak privately after the meeting," Dumbledore said after an awkward silence. "If it is significant to our war efforts, I would be glad to help where I can."
Bill wrenched his arm out of Fleur's grasp and stormed out of the room in a huff. Fleur got up and followed him, leaving the entire Order to gossip quietly about the interaction. Many eyes remained glued to Harry, looks of curiosity and even suspicion upon him. Thanks, Bill, Harry fumed internally. Just what I need to get people to trust me again.
Dumbledore thankfully steered the conversation elsewhere, turning to Kingsley for reports from within the Ministry. As soon as the meeting was adjourned, Harry stood and stormed out of the room, looking for Bill and Fleur. He found them in the library, as Fleur seemed to be giving Bill an earful.
"What the hell was that about?" Harry demanded, after casting a Muffling Charm on the door.
"Maybe I'm tired of sneaking around with two teenagers trying to win a war by ourselves!" said Bill. "Maybe someone has to step up and be the adult here by asking for help!"
"And you chose to do it there, in front of everyone?" Harry shouted. "Are you daft?"
"Perhaps you've gotten too comfortable lying to everyone, but I haven't," Bill said stubbornly. "I'm just trying to get this out into the open."
"And what about Snape?" Harry demanded. "Did you even think what might happen if he learned what we were up to? If he reported it back to his master? You could have just jeopardized the entire war!"
"I agree, that was quite foolish, Bill," said Fleur. "You should 'ave at least asked us first before doing something like that!"
"Like that would have done any good!" said Bill. "You two have been against me from the beginning! At least when Saul was around we had some proper guidance—"
"You'll notice that Saul also didn't trust Dumbledore," Harry pointed out. "And nobody's against you – we just disagree that Dumbledore needs to be involved. You're so fixated on him that it's clouding your judgment."
"Well, excuse me for trusting the greatest wizard of the century over a sixteen-year-old!" Bill retorted. "Maybe it's your judgment that's clouded, did you ever consider that? We're in too deep here!"
"Look, if you can't handle the pressure, you don't have to do this anymore," said Harry. "I can Obliviate you, and you can go back to your normal life without having to worry about this stuff anymore."
"You must be joking," Bill scoffed. He turned to Fleur. "Obliviation? Are you hearing this, too?"
"I hear him loud and clear," said Fleur. "And maybe 'Arry is right. You are endangering our mission, and perhaps it will be better this way."
Bill opened his mouth to retort, but there came a knock at the door, and Dumbledore walked in. "Is now a good time?" the Headmaster asked.
"Not particularly," Harry said bitterly. "This is just a misunderstanding, sir."
"I quite agree," said Fleur, looking to Bill sternly. "Wouldn't you agree, Bill?"
Bill looked mutinously between Harry and Fleur. Then he left the room once more, headed for the fireplace to Floo away. Harry let him go, hopeful that Bill would cool off and not do anything more rash. Dumbledore stood patiently, looking between Harry and Fleur.
"I sense that I've struck upon a sensitive topic," the Headmaster frowned. "Perhaps we can talk about this when term resumes?"
"Yes, let's do that," Harry muttered. Hopefully that would give him time to come up with an appropriate cover story for Bill's antics. He gave Fleur a significant look, and she nodded, rushing from the room to follow Bill home. Harry gave the Headmaster a parting shrug before heading upstairs to cool off.
Only, he didn't get the chance. As soon as he shut himself back in his room, Ron was on his case. "What're you fighting with my brother about?" he demanded. Neville stood in the corner, watching warily.
"We aren't fighting," Harry huffed. "Bill's just getting antsy about a project I've asked him to help me with."
"What kind of project?"
"None of your business."
"Bill seems to think it is," said Neville cautiously. "What's he on about? What are you two doing behind everyone's backs?"
"What do you expect me to say?" Harry said hotly. "That I'm asking him to help me become a Dark Lord? You really believe that rubbish?"
"I don't like to jump to conclusions," said Neville, crossing his arms. "So now's your chance to explain yourself, and make us believe you."
"How about first you tell me what you and Dumbledore are up to in your private lessons?" Harry said hotly.
"Why d'you wanna know so badly?" Neville asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
"Why do you wanna know so badly?" Harry shot back. "Seems we're all keeping secrets from each other, aren't we?"
"We're not the ones doing blood rituals and casting Unforgivables about, mate!" Ron retorted. "It takes a lot to get my brother upset, so if he's got a problem with you, then I've got a problem with you."
"Oi, knock it off, will you?" Damian shouted; he'd entered the room without them noticing. "Weasley, you might be my captain, but I'll knock your block off if you don't leave my cousin alone."
Harry and Ron continued to glare at one another, until the latter huffed and exited the room, with Neville close behind him. "Thanks, Damian," Harry sighed, flopping back onto his bed in exhaustion.
"Everything's okay, isn't it, Harry?" asked Damian worriedly. "People have been saying things about you, and...I know they're not true, but it's scaring me a little."
"I'm fine, honestly," Harry sighed. "I'm just dealing with a lot right now. If everyone could just lighten up on the 'Dark Lord' talk, that would be splendid."
"Alright," Damian shrugged. "Well, let me know if I need to sock anyone in the mouth to shut them up."
"You sound like your dad," Harry chuckled. He realized too late that this was probably a sore subject to bring up at the moment. "Aw hell, sorry, I shouldn't have—"
"It's alright," Damian shrugged. He looked for a moment like he wasn't going to acknowledge the situation. But then he blurted out: "Honestly? I hate him. I thought I wanted to please him, but I've realized the bastard will just never be happy unless I turn out exactly like him."
"Huh," said Harry, unsure if he was supposed to agree or not. He certainly loathed Uncle Vernon and could relate to Damian's feelings of neglect, but didn't want to rub salt in the wound. "Listen, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm all ears."
"Thanks, but I prefer actions over words," Damian snickered. "No hard feelings, but when we play you in Quidditch this spring, I'll be hitting Bludgers at you harder than you've ever seen."
"Wouldn't expect anything less," Harry grinned. He took solace in knowing that his sister and cousin were on his side despite the current tensions with Neville and the others. Such squabbles would pass over time, but family bonds ran deeper than he could've imagined possible, and it was the one thing keeping him sane in this timeline.
Things remained frosty at Grimmauld over the coming days. Ron and Neville seemed determined to ignore Harry at all costs, and while Hermione threw him a few worried glances, she too kept her distance. Even Dahlia and Ginny seemed to be at odds over the Potter-Weasley family dispute, as the normally-inseparable girls were not spending much time together, sticking to their own siblings. The adults spoke in hushed whispers and seemed to be watching Harry from afar, but nobody approached him about the odd exchange at the Order meeting.
Harry was faced with a new conundrum, as he still intended to make a trip to Diagon Alley to pick up all the supplies he'd ordered by mail. His original plan was to use Bill's project as an excuse to get out of the house for a few hours, but that would now only raise more questions. He would have to get more creative if he was going to make his escape.
"Say, Mum?" he said after dinner, two night before Christmas. "I have some last-minute gift shopping to do in Diagon Alley, and Fleur does too. Can we go tomorrow for a couple of hours?"
"It's not a good time to be out in public right now," Lily sighed. "Especially given who your father is."
"We can use glamours so no one recognizes us," Harry offered. "I've gotten quite good at them."
Lily frowned as she considered this. "I'd feel better if you took an Auror or two with you," she sighed.
"How about Tonks?" Harry said at once. "She's also good at illusions. No one will even know any of us were there."
Lily still looked uncomfortable by the prospect. "Alright," she eventually relented. "But you are not to leave Tonks for a second, and I'm asking Sirius to make you an emergency Portkey in case things go wrong."
Harry readily agreed to these terms. He felt that it would be easier to give Tonks the slip than another Auror, or at least convince her to turn a blind eye to some questionable activity. He owled Fleur straight away to confirm this plan, planning to meet her at the Leaky Cauldron at noon.
As always, things weren't quite so simple when the time came to leave. "Why does Harry get to go to Diagon by himself?" Ron demanded over breakfast the next morning. "I wouldn't mind visiting the joke shop."
"He won't be by himself," said Lily. "He's going with Tonks and Fleur Delacour."
"Ooh, Fleur is going?" Dahlia said in a sing-song voice. "No wonder Harry wants to go by himself!"
"Merlin, Dahlia…" Harry grumbled, as the teens laughed at his expense around the table. For the moment, all the tension from the meeting dissipated as they gently ribbed him:
"Bet Tracey Davis won't be happy!"
"I didn't know Tonks swung both ways!"
"Five Sickles says they ditch her and say they got 'lost' after!"
"Alright, alright," Harry chuckled as he got up to leave. For once he didn't mind the teasing: it meant the scrutiny was somewhere other than his illicit activities. He would just have to buy a couple gifts for his friends and family to appease them.
Tonks was waiting for him in the living room beside the fireplace. "Wotcher, Harry!" she greeted him. "A stealth mission for Christmas spirit, eh? I suppose that's a noble enough endeavor."
Lily fussed with Harry's cloak for a moment before slipping a small pendant on a chain around his neck. "This is just in case you run into a spot of trouble," she said. "The trigger word is my maiden name. Got it?"
"Yeah, got it," Harry said impatiently, tucking the Portkey beneath his collar. He turned to go, but Lily held him firm, looking into his eyes searchingly.
"You haven't gotten yourself into any trouble, have you, dear?" she asked softly.
"Er...no, Mum, everything's fine," Harry said.
Lily didn't look sure if she believed him or not. "Okay," she said uncertainly. "You know you can come to me if you ever do. I'll love you no matter what mistakes you think you've made."
"Thanks, Mum," said Harry, accepting her hug. He still felt badly about lying to her, but now was not the time to divulge all of his secrets. They were at a pivotal crossroads, and he couldn't afford any distractions at the moment.
"Right, let's see that disguise then, Potter," said Tonks. She scrunched up her eyes and transformed herself into an older, more nondescript witch. Harry waved his wand over his head and adopted his usual disguise: blonde, mid-twenties, with a rough and weathered face that would hopefully deter anyone from nosing into his business.
"Not bad," Tonks remarked. "Let's get going. I'll have him back by sundown, Mrs. Potter."
Harry and Tonks stepped through the Floo into the Leaky Cauldron, which was fairly crowded despite the holiday. It wasn't difficult to find Fleur; Harry sensed her nervous Allure wafting through the crowd, as she waited anxiously in a corner. Harry immediately drew his wand and cast his usual enchantments, masking her Allure and disguising her features as he had before the Knockturn Alley tournament.
Fleur shivered as she felt the enchantments wash over her, but nodded her acknowledgment. "Thanks," she said. "Illusions were never my spécialité."
"Wotcher, Fleur," Tonks greeted her. "I'm afraid I don't remember you, but apparently we were acquainted before my accident."
"Oui, how could I forget?" Fleur smiled kindly. "Ze Auror who can change her appearance at will. An ability any girl would die for."
"As if you have anything to complain about," Tonks winked. "Shall we?"
They made their way through the brick wall into Diagon Alley, which was bustling with customers. Apparently people felt safe enough to go holiday shopping despite the war, which Harry figured was a good sign for how things were going. It also meant they were more likely to pass unnoticed in the crowds, which was a plus.
"So what's up with you and Bill, Harry?" Tonks asked pointedly as they traversed the narrow walkways. "Lot of theories flying around about what he was talking about in that meeting. My money's on a giant death ray to vaporize You-Know-Who."
"If only," Harry chuckled. "Honestly though, it's nothing. Just something I asked for his help with, and Bill's worried I'll get myself hurt if I don't ask a specialist for help. He's just being overly-cautious."
"I agree," Fleur chimed in. "Bill is only looking out for 'Arry, but 'e is easily paranoid, much like his mother."
"Merlin, I can believe that," Tonks chuckled. "Molly's been driving me up the wall for months now. Every time I come by Grimmauld, she talks my ear off with her mad theories about You-Know-Who's outlandish plots to harm her children. And I remember Bill always getting on Charlie's case at Hogwarts about his dangerous Quidditch stunts...that man is a Nervous Nelly, I tell you."
Harry was relieved to hear this about Bill's reputation. Hopefully that would be the main takeaway for other Order members as well, rather than Harry truly getting himself into something life-threatening.
He caught Fleur's eye as they approached their first shop: the potions apothecary. "This is me," Harry announced as they passed the door. "I'll just pop in quickly and get what I need."
Fleur luckily got the hint, as before Tonks could reply, she gasped and pointed across the way. "Ooh look, Madam Malkin's is 'aving a sale!" she squealed with delight. "Come, Tonks, we must 'ave a look!"
Tonks looked nervously at Harry. "Grab what you need and come straight back to us," she said warningly. Harry nodded, and he entered the apothecary as Fleur dragged Tonks across the alley towards the fashion shop.
As always, the shop smelled musty and rotten thanks to all the various ingredients on the shelves. The shop owner wandered out from the storeroom as Harry approached the counter. "Sellin' or buyin'?" he grunted.
"Buying," said Harry. "I placed an order by owl two weeks ago...name of Jack Smith."
The owner opened a thick ledger book and searched for the correct page. "Hmph," he said, consulting the lengthy list. "Pretty comprehensive list. Just starting out as a brewer?"
"Yep," Harry said casually. "Getting my first lab set up."
"Then you're missin' a silver parsing knife," the owner remarked. "Not gonna get proper results with any old knife, y'know."
"Oh," said Harry, feeling foolish; he always just grabbed any random knife from the supply drawer in the Potions classroom during lessons. "Er, add it to my tab then."
The owner tallied up all the ingredients and supplies. "Four hundred and thirteen Galleons," he announced.
Harry winced; that was over half of his winnings from the dueling tournament, and he still had more shopping to go...not to mention the gifts he had to find for his family. But he agreed, knowing time was of the essence. He forked over the gold and gathered all of his supplies together, then shrunk them and carefully slipped them into his robes. He returned outside and met Tonks and Fleur outside Madam Malkin's, and they resumed their walk.
Harry stopped at a couple more stores on their way, picking up more mail order items while also quickly browsing for Christmas gifts for his family. He slowly gathered every ingredient he would need to set up a brewing station and begin making some elementary potions for future use. He also intended to gather supplies for his next blood ritual; some of them would require a trip into Knockturn Alley, which he could save for another day when Tonks wasn't breathing down his neck.
They soon arrived at his final stop: the Magical Menagerie. There was one crucial ingredient left for his intended ritual, one that he'd been silently dreading for months now. But there was nothing to do but just get over it, so he entered the shop alone to retrieve it before he lost his nerve.
"Afternoon," the shop owner greeted him. "What can I do for ya?"
"Looking for a rabbit," said Harry. "Got any in stock?"
"In the back," the owner grunted. "Follow me."
Harry followed the man into the back of the shop, which was magically expanded to house larger pens for animals to roam free in. They reached the rabbit pen, where some two dozen or so hares resided, munching on straw or hopping around aimlessly. "Take yer pick," said the shop owner.
Harry eyed the various rabbits, storming churning slightly. He knew it would be unpleasant to kill an innocent animal for his ritual, but seeing them here and now made it even worse. How could he possibly choose one, knowing that he was effectively marking it for a painful death?
Part of him wanted to choose one of the older and slower ones, reasoning that they'd already had a long and full life and he wouldn't be stealing that much of their lifespan. But he also knew magic was all about intent, and that choosing a slower and less nimble rabbit might have unwelcome consequences on the ritual. No, if he wanted to improve his speed and dexterity, he had to choose the fastest rabbit with the most vitality. Such was the nature of the ritual: the bigger the sacrifice, the better the results.
A blur of motion caught his eye, as something small and furry darted across the pen from one enclosure to another. "What was that?" Harry asked.
"That bugger has been impossible to catch since we put him in here," the shop owner sighed. "We've taken to calling him Phantom, because he's always lurking in the shadows."
Harry knew immediately that 'Phantom' was the rabbit he needed. Those were exactly the qualities he was looking for himself: agility, quick instincts, and the ability to remain unseen and unscathed. "Is he for sale?" he asked.
"If you can catch him, I'll give you half off," the shop owner chuckled.
So Harry tentatively climbed into the cage, slowly approaching the small wooden enclosure Phantom had just entered. Just surround the entrance and stick your hand in, Harry reasoned. How hard could it be?
But as he approached the small box and knelt down to grab Phantom, the rabbit bolted, as though sensing his encroachment, darting between his legs for freedom. Harry lunged backwards for it, succeeding only in twisting himself up like a pretzel on the straw-covered floor.
Harry swore loudly and picked himself up, ignoring the guffaws of laughter from the shop owner. Clearly Harry wasn't the first to fail at this task. Where did that damn thing run off to now? Harry grumbled. He crept towards the corner of the pen where he thought he'd last seen the rabbit run, already dreading the task ahead of him.
He spent the next ten minutes or so trying and failing to catch that rabbit, each time coming up just short as the streak of fur just eluded his fingertips. This is getting bloody ridiculous, Harry groaned internally. I'm a Seeker, dammit...this should come naturally to me! But deep down he knew this was a necessary chase...Phantom's uncommon speed and elusiveness was exactly what he hoped to acquire himself through the ritual.
Harry finally got Phantom wedged in a tight spot, caught in a narrow stretch of pen with Harry blocking the exit. A desperate Phantom made his move once more, attempting to leap across Harry's left leg, but Harry managed to pin the creature against the fencing, grasping it tightly in two hands as the thing shrieked and screamed for freedom. The shop owner helpfully procured a small cage for Harry to place it in, where the defeated creature was left to brood over its defeat as Harry paid for his catch.
"You're a worthy adversary, Phantom," Harry remarked, peering into the cage. "I suppose you've earned some freedom before I'm ready for the ritual." Phantom stared right back with his eerily red-ringed eyes, and Harry felt uncomfortable getting to know the creature too well before the ritual, so he quickly shrunk the cage and stowed it away before returning to the Alley.
"Ready to head back?" asked Tonks.
"Er—" Harry said awkwardly, glancing at Fleur for help.
"My, it is cold out, isn't it?" she remarked. "Why don't we grab a cup of hot chocolate at my place first?"
"Mrs. Potter was quite insistent that we go straight back—" Tonks protested.
"It is not far from 'ere," Fleur insisted. "And I have a Floo we can use."
"Fine," Tonks muttered. Fleur held out both her arms; Harry and Tonks each took one, and Fleur Apparated them directly into her living room. Harry did not recognize the place; he'd expected to see Bill's place in the London suburbs. But he said nothing as Fleur waltzed into the kitchen to fix up some hot chocolate.
"You don't have to wait here on our behalf, Tonks," said Harry. "I know how to use the Floo."
"I'm sure you can," Tonks chuckled. "But your mother insisted that I keep a close eye on you."
"I don't think any Death Eaters will be attacking me here," Harry winked.
"Indeed no; ze apartment is heavily warded," said Fleur as she returned to the living room with drinks. "My father insists. Also, 'Arry and I had some things to discuss in private, if you do not mind."
Tonks looked from Fleur to Harry, confused. "Oh," she said softly. Then, "Oh! I hadn't realized...you two...Merlin, I'm an idiot...it should've been obvious from the start…"
"I 'ope we can count on your discretion?" asked Fleur. Harry was confused by what they were talking about, until Fleur sat beside him on the sofa and slipped a hand in his, interlocking their fingers together.
"Of course, of course," Tonks said with a sly grin. "Now I can see why Harry was so eager to ditch his mother...have fun, you two!" She gave Harry a salacious wink as his face reddened, then stood up and headed for the fireplace, Floo'ing away to leave them alone.
Fleur devolved into a fit of giggles as soon as she was gone; Harry let go of her hand and stood from the sofa, shaking his head. "You get a real kick out of making everyone think we're an item, don't you?" he groaned.
"Eet is fun to see you look so flustered," Fleur smirked. Then, her laughter faded and was replaced by a more somber demeanor. "I suppose we should talk about Bill."
"Yeah," Harry sighed. "What happened after you two left the other night?"
"I managed to calm him down and talk him out of approaching Dumbledore alone," said Fleur. "I convinced him that the Unbreakable Vow might interpret his actions as breaking his promise to you, and that seemed to get through to him."
"That's one problem sorted, then," said Harry. "But what are we going to do moving forward? I don't know if I can trust him from now on after that stunt he pulled."
"I do not either," Fleur sighed. "But I think I can keep him in line for now. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would leave him if he attempted something like that again. We can use his skills for now and decide what to do about him later."
Harry raised his eyebrows; he hadn't expected her to be so cold and calculating about the matter. "You have no issue with using him like a tool and discarding him?" he asked bluntly.
"If it is necessary," Fleur shrugged. "I am doing this for you, 'Arry, not for Bill. I owe you my life, and a Delacour is always loyal to those who show them respect."
Harry was stunned by this declaration of allegiance. "Wow...thank you, Fleur," he said. "You've no idea what your support means to me."
"Do not squander it, then," Fleur said simply. "What is ze plan now?"
"I need your help with something," said Harry. He offered her his arm; she eyed it curiously, but took it without question. He Apparated them directly into the boundary of his safe house property, which remained just as he had left it. Fleur shivered once more at the sight of the place.
"This place is eerie as always," she sighed, looking around with a frown.
"Yes, that is the idea," Harry chuckled. He reached into his robes and pulled out the shrunken cage containing Phantom the rabbit, enlarging it and setting it on the ground. He had no plans to perform the ritual today, and figured it deserved to spend the next few weeks roaming free on the property.
Harry tapped his wand to the cage door, and it sprung open. Phantom immediately bolted for freedom, sprinting for the fence line; however, it was thrust backwards by the wards, unable to leave. It tried a few more times at various exit points, eventually realizing it could not get past the boundary. It took shelter underneath the front steps, where Harry figured it would reside safely for the next few weeks.
Enjoy your time while it lasts, Phantom, Harry thought grimly. It had plenty of food and water around, with overgrown grass covering the property and a small pond in the back to drink from. Hopefully it would enjoy a peaceful existence here until Harry could muster the courage to end its life for his own selfish purposes. It gave him no pleasure to think about, but he knew it must be done.
Harry brought his remaining purchases into the house and dropped them off in the living room. He would come back and set them up properly another time, when he wasn't on a time crunch. He had one more crucial task to complete today, and he didn't want to waste any more time, turning back to Fleur.
"Are you familiar with the Fidelius Charm?" Harry asked her.
"Oui, it is used to protect secrets," Fleur nodded. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm going to create one on this property," said Harry. "And I'd like for you to be my Secret-Keeper."
Fleur looked astonished. "Me?" she said. "I am flattered, 'Arry, but...why not your mother or father? Or someone closer to you?"
"I've already told you things I can't tell anyone else," Harry reasoned. "I don't want my family to know about this place just yet. And I trust you just as much as my family at this point, if not moreso."
"That is...very touching, 'Arry," said Fleur. "But are you certain? It is a big responsibility—"
"One I'm sure you'll take seriously," said Harry. "So what do you say?"
Fleur considered it for a moment. Eventually, she nodded. "Very well," she said. "Tell me what I need to do."
Harry led the way out of the house to the front yard. According to his studies, the Fidelius Charm worked best when it had magical anchors to harness and sustain it. He had accounted for this when he buried the rune stones, which were also powering the basic wards but had plenty of power left over to handle this additional burden.
Harry situated himself and Fleur as close to the center of the circle as possible, near the front porch, roughly equidistant from all seven stones buried around the property line. He dropped to his knees and indicated for Fleur to do the same, taking her hands in his. "Right, so I'll say the incantation, then I need to give you the secret," said Harry.
"And how will you 'give me' the secret?" Fleur frowned.
"I dunno," Harry shrugged; the book was rather vague about that part. "It just says that you give it back to me, and we're done. I guess we'll find out together."
"Okay," Fleur said nervously. Harry too felt somewhat jittery; he didn't know why, but the significance of the moment felt larger than it ought to be. What was the big deal about sharing a secret with someone?
Harry closed his eyes and began to say the incantation. It had taken him some time to memorize – several lines of Latin that he did not know the full meaning of. He recognized a few root words from his Ancient Runes studies, such as the terms for 'guard' and 'ally', but largely chose to trust that the correct pronunciation plus his intent would do the job.
As he reached the end of his incantation, Harry felt a strong sensation around him, as though a swirl of magic had picked up in the air – a silent maelstrom surrounding himself and Fleur. She must have sensed it too, because he heard her breath hitch and felt her hands tremble slightly from the power of whatever Harry was doing.
With the incantation complete, Harry opened his eyes. Fleur was looking at him quizzically, waiting for whatever came next. He suddenly felt a great weight of expectation upon him, like he needed to share something with her – to relieve himself of the knowledge he was carrying on his own.
"Harry Potter's safe house is located at Raven House in Ashewick," he said. As he spoke the words, he felt them leave his body, and immediately forgot their contents. He gasped – it was as though giving Fleur his secret had stolen it away from him, so that he was no longer in on it himself. Where are we? Harry wondered, suddenly feeling very unsettled. What are we doing here?
Fleur shivered slightly as the words washed over her, and she blinked in surprise as they settled within her magic and her mind. Harry watched with great interest, wondering what revelation she'd had – wishing to be a part of the secret himself. Fleur looked into his eyes and repeated, "Harry Potter's safe house is located at Raven House in Ashewick."
Harry gasped as the words came back to him in a rush, and he suddenly remembered where they were. It was as though Fleur had given the knowledge right back to him, after he'd trusted her to keep it safe on his behalf. The swirl of magic around them ceased, and they found themselves back near the front porch of Raven House, the ritual complete. The secret was secure, and Fleur was now its keeper.
Harry stumbled to his feet and helped Fleur to her own. "That was...more involved than I expected," Harry exhaled.
"Yes indeed," said Fleur. "Thank you for trusting me with your secret."
"Thank you for keeping it," Harry said honestly. Keeping secrets was already a valuable trait in Harry's eyes, but having it sanctified with a magical bond made it feel that much more powerful and significant. It wasn't as unbreakable as a Vow, but Harry trusted Fleur with it all the same.
"Who else will you tell about zis place?" asked Fleur.
"Well, I personally can't tell anyone anymore," Harry chuckled. "They'd have to go through you first. And I'm not sure I want anyone to know about this place. Not Dumbledore, not Bill, not even my family."
Fleur regarded him carefully, a hint of sadness in her expression. "I cannot imagine not trusting my own family," she sighed. "They are the ones who will always 'ave your back."
"I love my family dearly," said Harry. "But there's a lot I can't tell them yet. I don't want to hurt them, and I don't want them to think differently of me."
"You don't think they would understand what you've been through?" Fleur frowned. "You don't think they 'ave the right to know?"
Harry sighed; he'd been grappling with that very question for a long time. "Someday I will tell them," he said. "I just...can't do it to them. Not right now. It's too much."
Fleur nodded somberly. She stepped forward to wrap Harry in a tight hug. "It is your secret to share, and your decision when to share it," she whispered. "But I think it will bring you closer together in the end."
Harry didn't know if she was right or not. He'd had nightmares in the past about the moment – telling his parents the truth, watching the horror dawn on them that he was not their true son, but an impostor who'd erased their own son's existence from their reality. He couldn't bear that kind of betrayal, not now.
But today had taught him how much of a relief it was to let someone else share the burden. It made him feel less like he was drowning under the weight of all the secrets he was carrying. He just had to find the right people and the right time to pass them along.