Sunday, 6th August

Kreacher didn't take the destruction of Walburga's portrait half as well.

According to Sirius, the house-elf had worshipped his mother, and he, in turn, was perhaps the only living thing that she ever showed a modicum of care towards. He'd been furious at Harry for "disrespecting his Mistress" in such a way and clearly distraught at Sirius's suggestion of burning the portrait now that it was off the wall.

Harry had decided on a compromise.

Sirius wouldn't be allowed to destroy the painting, provided that Kreacher kept it well out of sight - and hearing range. His godfather had pouted, of course, wanting nothing more than to figuratively murder his mother since he couldn't do so literally, but he'd managed to convince him that staying on the house-elf's good side - the same house-elf responsible for making their food - would only benefit them.

Once Harry told Kreacher that he was allowed to take Walburga's portrait and move it to his own room, where he could proceed to talk to her whenever he liked without being ordered to keep her curtains closed, the strange creature had proclaimed his "respectability" and "pureness" and "suitability for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black" once more.

He seemed determined to like him, something which drove Sirius crazy. Even telling Kreacher that his mother had been a muggle-born hadn't changed his rambling praise - apparently, that "wasn't his fault" and he shouldn't be "looked down upon for something out of his control" and "even the Black family had the occasional white sheep".

As long as the house-elf continued to not poison their food, Harry was okay with it.

Kreacher had even set up a perch next to the window in the attic for Hedwig, who'd thankfully found him yesterday evening without a problem. He had kind of forgotten to mention the fact that he had an owl to Sirius and Remus before she arrived, but they'd both immediately loved her, petting her and cooing over her, calling her beautiful and intelligent, and Harry had found himself pinned in place by two sharp amber eyes which had told him in no uncertain terms that he was not allowed to fuck this up.

Remus had spent breakfast sneaking her bits of bacon which she happily wolfed down - no pun intended - although Harry hadn't the slightest idea why considering that owls didn't even eat bacon.

He decided not to question it.

The only downside of the entire morning came in the form of a generic-looking barn owl who'd carried a missive from Albus Dumbledore. Apparently, the old man thought it a wonderful idea to introduce Harry to the Order's most loyal members before the next meeting, and much to his disgust, Sirius and Remus had both agreed, claiming that it would be "nice" for him to "make some friends" like he was a socially awkward child standing at the edge of a playground.

The Weasleys were due to arrive at noon, which meant he only had an hour or two left to further explore the house.

Cautiously pushing open a dusty wooden door - the only room he still hadn't checked out on the first floor - Harry found himself looking at what was probably once an exquisite drawing room.

It had large windows, a high ceiling, and olive green walls. On one side there was a stone fireplace flanked by two ornate glass-fronted cabinets, and directly opposite, was an entire wall covered with one grand tapestry.

Harry slowly walked over to it, taking in the faded woven threads and bright golden stitches connecting various names to each other - the sprawling family tree was identical to the one he'd seen in Rowle's genealogy book. The only difference was the occasional small round charred holes, similar to cigarette burns, that had scorched off a handful of names on every branch.

He sensed more than heard someone join him at the tapestry, and when he glanced over, he saw Sirius's gaze on the wall in front of them, his grey eyes darker than ever.

"I used to be there" he remarked, pointing at one of the burned circles, "My sweet old mother blasted me off after I ran away from home - Kreacher's quite fond of muttering the story under his breath".

"You ran away from home?"

"I'd had enough" Sirius said, shortly. Harry could relate to that.

"Your grandparents took me in, actually. They sort of adopted me as a second son - even talked about making it official, too, but that would've caused all sorts of problems. I was about five months older than your dad, so if they had legally adopted me then I would've become the eldest son and inherited the Potter earldom. I would've been giving up my own dukedom, too, but… well, I didn't really care about that. What I did care about was your dad - I wouldn't have taken his birthright from him; he didn't deserve that, just because my own parents were…"

Sirius trailed off, his gaze distant and unfocused, before suddenly he seemed to shake himself out of it.

"Nah, it was better this way. James got to keep his title, I got to keep my own - not that I knew it, at the time - and I was almost of age anyway, so it would've been pointless… So instead I camped out at your dad's during the school holidays, and then when I was seventeen I got a place of my own. My Uncle Alphard had left me a decent bit of gold - he's been wiped off here too, that's probably why - anyway, after that I looked after myself. I was always welcome at Mr and Mrs Potter's for Sunday lunch, though".

Harry didn't need to ask why his godfather had run away from home in the first place - he'd recognise that haunted look anywhere - and suddenly, the man's reaction when he'd told him that the Dursleys didn't care about him made sense. Although, if the portrait of his mother was any indication of how she'd been back when she was still alive…

Part of him, most of him, felt terrible that Sirius had grown up in a house that was, at the very least, similar to his own, if not worse. But there was another part, just one small tiny little bit in the darkest corner of his mind, that was absurdly grateful.

He didn't think he'd ever tell him about the Dursleys, didn't think he'd ever tell anyone the true extent of his childhood, but it was… nice, knowing that the option was there. Knowing that someone else would relate, rather than stare back at him with horrified pity.

He turned back to the tapestry, looking up at the large words woven in gold at the very top reading: THE NOBLE AND MOST ANCIENT HOUSE OF BLACK "TOUJOURS PUR". The first part he'd seen before, but the French words were new to him.

Sirius caught his frown and smirked.

"I know, right? Like everything else wasn't already ostentatious enough, they just had to throw a little French into the mix… The family came to England with the Norman Conquest during the 11th century, and for a long while afterwards, being able to speak French was seen as… I don't know. Superior, I guess? It was the language of the king and of the upper class, so it was more… aristocratic to speak French. Hence the family motto. Toujours Pur". The words rolled off the tip of his tongue with surprising fluidity. "It means-"

"Always Pure" Harry finished, getting a surprised look in return.

"Exactly. Always Pure. Of course, my lovely mother chose to interpret that as "Always Pure-Blood" like the white upper-class bigot that she was". Sirius briefly scowled, but then gave him an almost mischievous look. "My Uncle Alphard, however, once told me that it had nothing to do with blood and that being 'pure' actually referred to always remaining pure in character and morals and ideals, always striving for righteousness in your actions while remaining steadfast in your beliefs… I like that interpretation just a little bit more".

"Me too" Harry replied immediately, "Being pure of character instead of being pure of blood… that's what truly matters. Well, that and magic, of course, but magic is only somewhat affected by blood, whereas there are dozens, if not hundreds, of spells that are affected by emotions and character. That's what really counts".

"... Right" Sirius slowly agreed, giving him a somewhat odd look, "It's about who you are and not where you come from and all that… But hey, where did you learn French?"

"At school. It was one of my classes - my favourite class, actually. In fact, it's the only muggle subject that I think I'll miss" he admitted, "But now I've got you to teach me, so I guess it all works out".

"Oh, you do, do you?" Sirius teased, but Harry didn't miss the way his eyes had brightened at his remark.

"Only if you're willing, of course. I can't imagine that you learned it at Hogwarts, though, so… what? Private tutor?"

"Only the best for the future Duke of London". He rolled his eyes with a scoff. "It's a Black family tradition, you could say, and like most Black family traditions, I turned my back on it as soon as I could… Until I realised that speaking French made all the boys and girls swoon, of course. Then I was very eager to continue learning".

Harry snorted, completely and utterly unsurprised yet still amused by the man's antics.

"I'm not sure how much I remember though" Sirius mused, scratching at his goatee, "I didn't exactly have many opportunities to speak French while spending a decade in maximum security… well, aside from speaking with dear old Bella who'd been put through the same upbringing I had, of course, but she lost her mind rather completely by year six so we didn't do much catching up after that".

Harry was slowly but surely starting to realise just how much of an understatement his godfather was capable of making - a trait that he shared himself.

"Either way, I can teach you what I do know, and if you want to continue learning after that, we can always find you a French tutor. I'm sure there are dozens of professors out there who would love to teach the famous Boy Who Lived".

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal, as if paying for someone to teach Harry something he enjoyed was nothing, as if speaking of the future - of a future with Harry in it - was a sure thing. Harry felt a warmth spread through him at his godfather's casual but heartfelt offer. It was something he wasn't used to - being cared for, having someone who genuinely wanted to help him.

"Thanks, Sirius" he said quietly, still looking at the tapestry. "You- You don't have to do that".

"I know I don't have to" the man replied, slowly, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, "But I want to. You're family, pup, and let me tell you - you're already a far sight better at it than most of this lot ever were".

He gestured at the tapestry, making a face, and Harry grinned.

"Well, I hate to break it to you, Sirius, but that isn't exactly a tall order".

"Are you insulting the good name of the Black family? How dare you! I'll have you know, pup, that you yourself are related to some of this lot!"

"Yeah, the better lot. Why do you think they married into my family?"

He gasped, clutching a hand over his chest.

"Blasphemy! Those are fighting words, Potter, and I will not stand for it! The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black will not stand for it! We are far too arrogant and pretentious for that!" Sirius suddenly grimaced. "And hey, speaking of, have you seen the rest of the house yet?"

"No, not yet".

"Alright, good. I'll show you around - there's more than a few, uh… unpredictable rooms that you'd do well not to step into alone. Knowing my luck, of course, the house will prefer you and curse me instead. Kreacher will be thrilled… Well. Allons-y, as the French say!"

Harry gladly followed him out of the dark, dusty room and back into the equally dark, yet not as dusty hallway.

"Does that count as my French lesson for the day?"

His godfather gave him a look. "Let's see if I survive the next twenty minutes first and I'll let you know".

Marching down the corridor, he pointed at various doors as they passed.

"Bedroom one… Bedroom two, you get the gist… We just came from the drawing room… That's the bathroom… Downstairs we've got the hallway from hell, the dining room that nobody ever eats in, and a small sitting room which, really, is Kreacher's domain more than anything else".

Sirius spun on his heel next to a narrow staircase and took the steps up two at a time.

"On the second floor, we have bedroom number three… Another bathroom, all very standard stuff… The third and fourth floors have three and two bedrooms respectively with another two bathrooms beside, but this door-" Here, the man came to an abrupt stop and threw open an old wooden door with a grand flourish. "-this door leads to the library".

Harry's eyes widened as they stepped into the room. It was a vast space with tall wooden bookshelves lining almost every wall, filled with leather-bound volumes and ancient tomes. A large desk sat in the centre, cluttered with parchment, ink bottles, and quills.

"Wow" he breathed, taking in the sight, "This is amazing!"

"Yeah, I thought you might say that. My father collected rare books, most of them Dark, of course, but there are some good ones in here too… You're welcome to read any of them if you want".

"Really?"

Sirius flashed him another grin, warmer this time and less mischievous than before.

"Really really. This is your home now too, pup - at least until Dumbledore finally agrees that our house in Soho is a better fit - but until then, you should feel free to explore, read, eat, sleep, do whatever you like whenever you like".

For anyone else - for anyone with a normal, healthy upbringing, Harry mentally corrected himself - being told that they could eat or sleep whenever they wanted to would seem a bit strange, but for him… Harry knew that he was allowed to eat. He'd been allowed to eat at St Brutus, too, even though it had been on a schedule, so he knew, of course, he fucking knew, that he would be allowed to eat here at Grimmauld as well but… but there was still that tiny little voice locked in a cupboard at the back of his mind that wondered.

And based on the knowing, saddened look that Sirius was currently giving him, his godfather knew about that irritating but what if too.

"Come on, pup" he said quietly, leading Harry back out of the library, "You can return later on if you like, but first I want to show you the rest of the house before the Weasleys get here".

The Weasleys arrived precisely on schedule.

Harry barely had time to brace himself before suddenly there was a flurry of flames and a swarm of red hair filled the kitchen led by Molly Weasley, presumably, the current Countess of Hampshire, a short, plump woman with warm brown eyes but a larger-than-life presence.

"Sirius! Remus! Lovely to see you again!" she exclaimed, immediately bustling forward, "And you must be Harry! It's truly wonderful to see you alive and well, dear - for a while there we'd all been expecting the worst. How are you?"

Harry blinked, somewhat stunned by so much energy but a quick glance at Sirius revealed a wide grin and Remus gave him a small, encouraging nod, so he guessed that this was just how the woman was.

"I'm fine, thank you, my lady".

"Oh, none of that nonsense now!" She waved the title off. "You can call me Molly, dear. You know, when Dumbledore told you that you'd popped up again I didn't know what to think. Just look at you! Father's hair, mother's eyes - you could do with a good home-cooked meal though, you're far too skinny! Just what on earth have they been feeding you?!"

She turned narrowed eyes onto Sirius whose grin immediately dropped as he raised both hands in defence.

"Hey! Don't look at me! He was like that when we got him!"

Her eyes narrowed even further.

"Honestly, Molly! He's only been here a single bloody day; if you want to blame anyone for not feeding him then blame those muggles he was with!"

She gave a non-committal hum before turning back to him.

"I'll bring over a few hot meals at the next Order meeting, dear; that'll feed you up in no time! I told Professor Dumbledore we'd be happy to house you until school starts up again, but he was insistent that you stay here. It's not proper for you to be cooped up in this dark and dreary house all alone with two men you barely know. A boy your age needs friends, people to talk to! It's just as well that the Headmaster suggested we pay you a visit today, or I don't know what would've happened to you!"

Harry forced a polite smile onto his face although inside, he was secretly seething. He knew that the woman meant well, but honestly! He wanted to snap at her that he wasn't some poor lost orphan in need of coddling, and he certainly didn't appreciate her implying that Sirius and Remus - who had welcomed him here without hesitation - were anything less than trustworthy. He also wanted to point out that, despite her maternal tone, he didn't exactly know her or any of her spawn any better either. But he bit his tongue, deciding it wasn't worth the trouble.

"Now so, let me see" Mrs Wealsey continued, stepping back to gently yet firmly shove a near-identical-looking girl towards him instead, "This is Ginny, my youngest".

Ginny looked absolutely mortified at being introduced like a child and shot her mother a quick glare before shyly meeting Harry's gaze. Her brown eyes were wide, and she gave a small smile that looked both eager and nervous.

"And here's Ron - you would have been in the same year at Hogwarts, you know" Molly continued, gesturing toward a tall, lanky boy with a smattering of freckles and a slightly sheepish expression.

"Uh, hey" Ron said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"And then there's the twins, Fred and George" she said, sounding more exasperated with them than anyone else. The two boys stepped forward, grinning broadly, and offered identical, playful salutes.

"Pleasure to meet you, mate" Fred said.

"Heard loads about you from Dumbledore" George added.

"All good things, of course… Mostly" Fred concluded with a wink and Harry felt his smile finally start to relax into something more genuine.

"Oh, you two, I swear!" Molly scolded, "Pay no attention to them, Harry dear. Now, I have another three besides. Percy, unfortunately, couldn't make it today. He's recently been promoted to Junior Assistant to the Minister, working directly for Cornelius Fudge, if you can believe it!"

"No, actually" Fred said.

"We can't" George finished.

They both expertly ducked the reprimanding swat she aimed at them.

"Then there's Charlie, my second eldest, who's currently working in Romania on a dragon sanctuary, and finally, there's Bill who's only just come home from Egypt and now has a desk job at Gringotts".

"Where there are many compensations" Fred muttered, this time failing to miss his mother's reproachful response and yelping in response.

"I may not like the girl, Frederick Weasley, but I will not have you speaking of her in such a crude manner!"

At Harry's confused look, George smirked and leaned closer. "He's got himself a part-veela French girlfriend who also just got a job at Gringotts to eemprove 'er Eenglish-"

"-and Bill's been giving her a lot of private lessons- Ow! Okay, okay, I'll stop! Geez, woman, lighten up, would you?"

Molly glared at him one last time before turning a softer gaze back to Harry.

"You'll hopefully get to meet them at the next Order meeting, dear. Oh, and my husband, Arthur, of course! He's working today as well I'm afraid - he's the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry and they've just been snowed under recently".

Harry smiled tightly, shifting on his feet. All of these introductions felt… weird. Like Mrs Weasley had said - he'd have gone to school with these people, been friends with them even, had he started Hogwarts back in first year. Meeting them now was just awkward. He was still a complete stranger to them no matter what Boy Who Lived rubbish they'd undoubtedly heard stories of growing up.

"Now so!" Molly suddenly clapped her hands together and he only barely fought back a flinch. "Why don't you lot head into the sitting room and chat for a bit and I'll make us all a nice pot of tea!"

Harry's gaze automatically shot to Remus, who was most assuredly the tea maker in this house, but the man merely gave a small smile in response, looking resigned. Molly Weasley was undeniably well-intended, it would seem, but she had a bad habit of taking over whatever room she entered. Still, he obediently led the way down to the small living room at the other end of the hall, trying desperately to come up with something to talk about with these four strangers.

"So, uh, how do you like Grimmauld Place?" Ron suddenly asked, evidently feeling just as awkward as he did.

"It's alright" Harry replied, "There's a pretty good library upstairs".

The boy made a face - he wasn't a Ravenclaw then.

"I think I'd go mad being locked up in here alone. I mean, you can't even play Quidditch!"

"Do you… play?"

"Oh yeah" he said, shoving open the door, "We've got a sort of makeshift pitch at home. We can't fly too high though, or the muggles might see, or use real Quidditch balls either in case they shoot off somewhere, but we can toss apples about and there's always someone to play it with".

"We'll lend you a broom whenever you visit" George promised, "Knowing mum, she'll have you round for tea before the end of the month! She means well, but we know she can be a bit…"

"Overwhelming" Fred finished, "You'll get used to her. Lucky for you, she likes collecting strays".

Harry would have shot back with a sharp retort, but the matching grins on both of the boys' faces clued him into the fact that they were only teasing him. He wasn't used to other teenagers, and those older than him especially, being so… nice.

He was still wary of the whole situation. The idea of being surrounded by this warm, bustling household was foreign to him, almost suffocating in its strangeness. He had learned to navigate the world on his own but now, Dumbledore wanted him to integrate into this ready-made family and it felt… forced.

But they did seem friendly enough, and it certainly wouldn't do him any harm to get on the Earl of Hampshire's good side, so for now he'd just… see how things played out.

"So, come on, where'd they find you?" Fred asked as they all sat on the various armchairs and chaises spread out around the very, very green room.

"Yeah, mate. We only caught some of Dumbledore's conversation with mum" George added, "And we missed all the good parts".

So far, Ginny hadn't said much - just sat there, her cheeks slightly pink as she occasionally glanced at Harry from beneath her eyelashes. There was a certain… tension between them but he couldn't quite place why - it certainly wasn't coming from him, after all. Now, however, she turned a furious gaze, exactly like her mother's, to the twins.

"If mum catches you with an extendable ear again she'll go berserk!" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest, "She's convinced she burned them all, you know".

"Extendable ears?" Harry asked quickly, both because he wanted to delay his tragic background story for as long as possible but also because whatever this was actually sounded interesting.

After shooting a quick look towards the door, George pulled a coil of long pink string out of his pocket.

"They allow you to listen in, see?" He pointed at both ends of the string which were attached to what appeared to be some sort of ear plug. "You put one of these in your ear and shove the other under a locked door and you can hear everything that's happening as if it were right next to you. Fred and I created them to listen into Order meetings".

Harry was, admittedly, rather impressed.

"That's ingenious!" he said, causing the twins to flush, "How did you- I mean, I've never even heard of something like that! The magic must've been- Wait, what charms did you-"

"I hear footsteps!" Ron suddenly exclaimed, "Put it away, quick!"

George hastily shoved the string back into his pocket just before Mrs Weasley reappeared with a tray laden high with teacups and biscuits.

"Here we are then!" she said cheerfully, trailed after by Sirius and Remus, "Now so, what are we all chatting about?"

The tea tray clinked as she settled it onto the coffee table, her eyes scanning the room with all the warmth and authority of a mother. Harry could see the affection in her gaze as she surveyed her children - and him, too. He appreciated the thought, even if it still felt like a bad fit.

"Not much, Mum" Fred said, flashing her a disarming smile, "Just introducing Harry here to the wonderful world of Weasleys".

"Indeed" George added with an identical grin, "And he hasn't run away screaming yet, so we must be doing something right".

Mrs Weasley sighed but smiled indulgently. "Well, make sure you lot behave yourselves. Harry doesn't need any trouble from us".

"Trouble?" George asked, feigning shock, "Us?"

"Never!" Fred exclaimed.

Molly rolled her eyes but didn't press the issue, turning instead toward Sirius, who was in the middle of levitating a cup of tea to hover precariously above Ron's oblivious head, much to Ginny's delight.

"Sirius Black!" she scolded, her hands on her hips, "Stop that this instant! Ginny, don't encourage him".

Ginny giggled but obediently grabbed the cup before it could spill over her brother - gaining a yelp of shock from the boy in question. Sirius, grinning roguishly, reholstered his wand and raised his hands in mock surrender before joining the girl on the chaise lounge. Remus, due to the lack of seats, had made his way over to the antique chess table in the corner - a table that now Ron was eyeing up in appreciation.

"Blimey, that's an old set! D'you play, professor?"

Harry was abruptly reminded of the fact that not only should Remus have raised him - but he should have taught him for a year at Hogwarts too.

"It's been a while" the man admitted, "But I think I still remember the rules. Care for a game?"

Ron grinned, already making his way over. "Yeah, that'd be great! Black or white?"

Sirius immediately whipped around. "If you say anything other than black, Moony, then I'll divorce you!"

"You'll have to marry me first" he shot back, getting whoops and laughter from the twins. "You tell him, professor!"

"Boys!" Molly scolded, although she herself was smiling too and, looking at the scene in front of him, something in Harry's heart positively ached.

The easy banter between the Weasleys, Sirius, and Remus felt like something from another world - a world he could have had, should have had, if things had gone differently. He found himself smiling despite the bittersweet ache in his chest.

This should have been his childhood. This should've been how he grew up, surrounded by laughter and love and friends and family. This shouldn't be feeling so foreign to him.

He shouldn't feel like an outsider.

"Alright there, Harry?"

He blinked and suddenly found himself flanked by the twins, Fred on his right and George on his left, thoroughly squishing him into the narrow love chair he was sitting on.

"Haven't scared you off, have we?"

"It'll take a lot more than you two to scare me".

The pair looked at each other over his head.

"That sounded suspiciously like a challenge, Forge".

"Right you are, Gred. We'll have to up our game".

Harry rolled his eyes at them. "Are you two always like this?"

"Like what?"

"Handsome?"

"Intelligent?"

"Ridiculously attractive?"

"Ridiculously impish" Harry interrupted, "Is it a Weasley thing or is it a you thing?"

Fred shook his head. "Oh, it's most definitely not a Weasley thing".

George nodded. "Yeah, the rest of our family are horrifyingly well-behaved".

"Bill got twelve O.W.L.s, became a Prefect, and was made Head Boy" Fred started.

"Charlie was the star Quidditch player, eventual Captain of the Gryffindor team, and got far too many N.E.W.T.s" George continued.

"Then you've got Percy who was just made Prefect, also got twelve O.W.L.s, and is well on his way-"

"-to become Head bloody Boy as well".

The twins gave him identical scowls.

"Even Ron seems to be a bit of a lost cause if we're being honest".

"Did you know that he was partly responsible for Pettigrew getting arrested and Sirius over there being found innocent?"

"Merlin, what an upstanding bloody citizen".

Harry… didn't know that, actually. He knew that his godfather had gone to Hogwarts to find Pettigrew and that some sort of altercation had happened that'd involved him, Remus, Severus Snape, and three unnamed Hogwarts students-

Well. Two unnamed Hogwarts students now, he supposed.

"What's even worse is the fact Bill's now the Marquess of Shropshire". Fred pronounced the title with a posh and somewhat over-the-top old-fashioned English accent, "Mum's a Prewett, so being the eldest male heir, he got the title when he turned seventeen".

"Yeah, at least Charlie's got some sense and refuses to take over from dad" George added, "Ran all the way to Romania to avoid it. Not that we blame him, of course".

"It's his only redeeming feature, really".

Harry had wondered about that. The majority of peerage titles were passed down once the heir came of age. Some families chose to wait until the death of the current holder, but given that Arthur Weasley was well-known for disliking everything to do with Wizengamot, he should have shoved the mantle into the hands of his second eldest as soon as he turned seventeen - and if Ron was Harry's age currently, then that would make Charlie at least nineteen or twenty, so he should have taken his seat years ago.

On his right, Fred gave a heavy sigh. "Sucks to be him, I guess".

"Thank Merlin for being the spare's spares, huh?"

"Don't let Percy hear you call him that; he'd happily murder Charlie in his sleep to get the earldom".

"I take it that you two have no interest in politics then" Harry summarised, glancing between them, "But what about Ron? Or your sister?"

"Ron's mostly alright" George said, "Usually. He doesn't care much for all that parliamentary stuff, although he's got a wicked head for strategy".

"And Ginny couldn't ever inherit the title anyway, even if she were the eldest since she's a girl" Fred continued, "Her best bet is to marry an earl when she turns seventeen so she can become Lady Whatever, the Countess of Who Cares".

George suddenly leaned in even closer. "Word of advice, mate".

Fred mirrored his twin on his other side. "Ginny's got a boyfriend".

Harry blinked.

Out of all the things they could have said, that… wasn't even a remote possibility of what he'd expected. He glanced over at Ginny, who was sitting with Sirius, laughing at whatever story he told her while surreptitiously casting a look in his direction every so often.

"She does?" he asked, keeping his voice low.

"Yeah. Michael Corner; a bloke in Ravenclaw". George shrugged. "Bit of a tosser, really, but she fancies him, for some reason".

"Just don't tell Ron" Fred said, "He doesn't know yet, and his temper when it comes to Ginny and boys-"

"-is legendary" his twin finished, "So don't bring up Corner around him, alright?"

"... Alright" Harry replied, bemused, "But why are you two telling me this?"

"Because" Fred said with a smirk, "you should know before... well, before anything… happens".

He raised an eyebrow, feeling more confused than anything. "Like what?"

The pair shared a look, their faces going from mischievous to downright devilish.

Fred leaned in again, whispering in a mock-serious tone. "Like Ginny getting any ideas".

George nodded solemnly. "You see, mate, she used to have the biggest crush on you. When she was little, she was obsessed with all the stories mum told her about the famous Boy Who Lived".

"We couldn't go a single bloody day without her mentioning your name at one point. Thought she'd grow out of it, but then you actually showed up here in the flesh! Poor thing doesn't know what to do with herself now".

"Look at her, all flustered". George sighed, glancing over at Ginny. "Mum thought it was cute; kept encouraging her. But now that she's actually met you…"

Harry blinked again, taking it all in. He hadn't even noticed. Ginny had seemed a little shy, sure, and flushed once or twice when he'd caught her eye but it hadn't even crossed his mind that this could be the reason why.

He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words.

"You, uh… You don't have to worry about- about any of that happening between us".

Fred raised his eyebrows. "Oi! What's wrong with our sister?"

"Yeah" George added, feigning offence, "Too good for Ginny, are you?"

Harry hesitated, unsure how much to reveal, but the twins' teasing wasn't malicious. They clearly cared about Ginny, and they were friendly enough, so he decided to be honest. It wasn't a secret he planned on keeping, anyway.

"Not at all" he replied, "She just doesn't have the right… uh, parts, shall we say?"

There was a beat of silence, and then wide identical grins spread across Fred and George's faces, eyes gleaming with newfound mischief.

"Oh, we see it how it is". Fred waggled his eyebrows in a frankly ridiculous manner. "You're into-"

"-our kind of parts, as they say" George finished, also giving him a comically coquettish look, "Harry, darling, if you ever need a tour of the Burrow, you've only got to ask".

"And if you ever want a tour of our Bur-"

"Do not finish that sentence!" he exclaimed, flushing despite himself, "Merlin, you two are just- just bloody unbelievable!"

"You mean unbelievably charming" Fred corrected, fluttering his eyelashes at him.

"And also unbelievably available" George added with a wink.

Harry couldn't help but snort at their antics, shaking his head at the absolute absurdity of the twins' banter. He had never met anyone quite like them before, and their relentless teasing was both mortifying and oddly refreshing.

For a moment, he forgot about the awkwardness of the situation - how out of place he felt in a family so warm and cohesive. Fred and George's ridiculous humour made it easier to settle in, even if they were joking about things that would've caused their mother to have a fit.

"I think I'll pass on the offer for now" he replied, smiling, "But I'll keep it in mind".

"Ah, the bittersweet bite of rejection" Fred lamented, "Whatever shall we do, Gred?"

"Pass away in a river of lilies, Forge" George replied wistfully, "'Tis the only thing for it".

Despite the good-natured ribbing, Harry found himself relaxing more and more. The twins' teasing, Ron's awkward questions, Molly's hovering, even Ginny's blushing - it all felt strange and unfamiliar, but not entirely unwelcome. It was different from what he was used to, but it wasn't… bad.

Maybe, he thought, with a glance around the room, maybe having friends his own age wouldn't be so awful after all.