Tuesday, 19th December

In light of the revelations of the previous day, Harry couldn't help but feel that the visit from the MCPS agent was rather anticlimactic, all things considered.

Meredith Gladhill was a short, dumpy little witch with a blinding smile and bright eyes. She sat primly on the modern yet comfortable couch in Sirius's South London home, sipping a cup of tea while scribbling notes on her clipboard.

The house had been carefully staged to look as if they'd been living there for months - Harry's books were casually stacked on the kitchen table, a pair of his shoes were deliberately left haphazardly by the stairs, and a soft knitted blanket in Slytherin green (that he was fairly sure was neither Remus's nor Sirius's) was draped over the armchair.

His godfather, clearly overcompensating for his nerves, had plastered on his most charming grin and was trying far too hard to appear like a model guardian. He kept casually throwing his arm around Harry's shoulder or ruffling his hair - something he had never done so often before today. Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from hexing him.

Mrs Gladhill, for all her bubblyness, was clearly sharp beneath the surface. Her gaze flicked between the three of them with a keen sort of interest as she set her teacup down and folded her hands in her lap.

"Well" she said cheerfully, "This is a rather… unique situation that we find ourselves in, isn't it?"

"You could say that" Sirius agreed, nodding, "But I've always been a firm believer in chosen family over blood, and I most definitely choose Harry".

He squeezed his shoulder for emphasis, and Harry did a very good job of not giving in to the temptation to roll his eyes... Barely.

"Of course" Gladhill replied smoothly, "Blood relations are important, but not the be-all and end-all of guardianship. We in the MCPS believe a stable, loving environment is far more vital".

Sirius stiffened slightly at the word stable.

"And would you say, Lord Black, that you're able to provide Harry with such an environment?"

"Absolutely" he said firmly, though Harry felt the hand on his shoulder tighten, "I've got a home, I've got a steady income, and most importantly, I want to give him the home he deserves. I want him here - not with relatives who barely tolerate his existence!"

She nodded as she jotted something down in her notes.

"Yes, I've read the report about the Dursley family. It was… most concerning". She turned to Harry then, her sharp gaze softening. "And what about you, dear? How do you feel about living with your godfather?"

"It's better than the alternative" he said honestly, and next to him, Sirius snorted loudly before quickly trying to cover it with a cough, "But, really, I want this. I want to be here. Sirius and Remus want me here and… and that means more to me than anything else".

Mrs Gladhill smiled warmly, but she still scribbled something else down on her clipboard, and Harry had to resist the urge to summon the sheet of paper just to see what she was writing.

"And how do you find Lord Black as a guardian?" she asked.

He couldn't help but smirk. "To be honest? A bit dramatic".

Remus laughed while Sirius gasped in mock offence. "Uh, excuse you! I am an absolute delight to live with!"

"Sure, Pads. Whatever helps you sleep at night".

The woman smiled widely, seemingly pleased with their dynamic.

"And what about school? How are you finding Hogwarts? I understand that you skipped the first four years, so how are your classes?"

"They're alright" he replied, somewhat relieved at the normalcy of the question, "I've been keeping up with all my subjects, and my professors haven't expressed any concerns. I'm on the Quidditch team, too".

"Good for you" she said, genuinely seeming to mean it, "And your social life? I can only imagine how difficult it must have been, joining a group of students who have already spent a few years together".

"It was… a bit weird at first" he admitted, "But I have friends now. Good ones".

Gladhill hummed in approval. "That's great to hear, Harry. We want to ensure you're thriving, not just surviving; you understand?"

He nodded. He did understand, and he appreciated it, even if this entire process was somewhat nerve wracking.

She turned her attention back to Sirius and Remus. "Now, Lord Black, you do have a rather… notorious past".

Sirius tensed. "That's one way of putting it".

"Do you feel that your experiences - both in Azkaban and your, ah, less than… conventional upbringing - might impact your ability to provide a stable home?"

Remus, looking like he was physically restraining himself from snapping, opened his mouth, but Sirius beat him to it.

"My experiences" he said slowly, carefully, "have only made me more determined to give Harry the kind of home I never had. And I'd think that having someone who knows what it's like to be cast aside, wrongly judged, and forced to live a life not of their own choosing might actually be useful in raising a kid who's gone through much the same".

Mrs Gladhill tilted her head, considering him, while Harry quickly bit back a grin at the picture-perfect answer.

"And you, Mr Lupin?" she suddenly asked, turning her gaze to him, "You live here as well?"

Remus hesitated for only a fraction of a second. "Yes, ma'am".

"And your role in Harry's life?"

"I've known Harry since he was a baby" he said simply, "I was close friends with his parents. I care about him. I help where I can. Tutor him if he needs it. Keep Sirius from losing what little common sense he has left".

"Hey!" his partner protested.

Gladhill laughed again and made another note. "I see. Well, you certainly seem to have a strong support system, Harry. Now then, Lord Black. We've established that you have the necessary means to provide for your godson, but let's dig a little deeper, shall we? This isn't just about material security, it's about emotional readiness as well".

Sirius shifted in his seat, running a hand through his hair nervously. It was clear he hadn't expected her to change the topic to something as heavy as this, but Harry couldn't help but admire her thorough, methodical approach.

"Alright" he said, his voice noticeably unsteady, "I'm ready. Hit me with your best shot".

"Tell me" Mrs Gladhill said, looking at him intently, "How do you plan to handle Harry's emotional needs, especially after everything he's been through? You've mentioned the Dursleys, and I can imagine that his past has left some scars".

And there it was - the question Harry had been dreading. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from snapping at the woman. She meant well, of course - it was quite literally her job to mean well - but he didn't like mentioning his loving relatives himself, and he definitely didn't like a complete stranger mentioning them.

Sirius seemed to hesitate for only a moment before, "Harry's been through more than anyone should, and I… I know how important it is to make him feel safe now. I'll do everything I can to help him. If I have to take things slow, we will. We've been through a lot together already, and every day I see him growing more and more confident… I'm proud of him for that".

Harry swallowed, feeling the warmth of Sirius's words settle over him. He couldn't deny it - his godfather was trying. He was really trying. Gladhill seemed to be watching them both closely, her gaze flicking between them.

"That's admirable, Lord Black" she said, her voice soft but sceptical, "But it's easy to say you'll be there for someone when times are good. What about when things get difficult? How will you handle it if Harry has trouble adjusting, or if he faces a setback?"

"Well… I know there will be difficult days. I'm not naive enough to think this will be all sunshine and rainbows! But I'll listen to him, give him space when he needs it, and be there when he doesn't. I've learned a lot from my own experiences, and I plan to apply that in ways that'll help Harry feel like he has control over his own life again… I can't undo the past, but I can make sure the future is something he chooses".

Harry's heart warmed at the sincerity in his godfather's voice, but he couldn't quite bring himself to say anything in response. He wasn't the type to express his feelings out loud - or even mentally, either - but it was clear to him that Sirius would try his hardest and that alone meant the world to him.

She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. "And what about boundaries? As Harry's guardian, you will be responsible for making difficult decisions, especially regarding discipline. How will you ensure that your relationship with Harry remains one of guidance and not one of authority alone?"

Sirius paused. He'd always been a little impulsive, a little hot-headed, but for this, he didn't rush in. Harry could practically see the weight of the question settle over him.

"I don't believe in being a tyrant" he said after a long moment, "I'll set rules, sure, but I'm also open to discussion. If Harry doesn't agree with something I've decided, I want him to speak up. I know how important it is to have a voice, especially when you're young and feel like the world is telling you what to do. So, yes, there will be boundaries. But there will also be understanding and room for compromise".

Remus, who had been silently observing, nodded in approval. "It's about respect - both ways".

Mrs Gladhill seemed satisfied with the answer, jotting something down on her clipboard. Then, without missing a beat, she turned back to Harry.

"And how do you feel about the idea of adoption?" she asked, her voice much softer now, "You've lived with Lord Black for some time now, but making it official means there will be no going back without due cause. You'll be under his care until you turn seventeen... Are you ready for that?"

Harry stiffened slightly, the question catching him off guard. He hadn't thought about it that way - about how official it would be, how permanent… But when he looked over at Sirius, he felt a pull in his chest. This was the man who had stood by him, who had fought for him even against Dumbledore when no one else had. The man who had given him a place to call home, something that felt like a family - a real family, not just a name.

"I… think so" Harry said slowly, "I mean, I want this. I want to be here, with Sirius and Remus, and I want to make it work. I… trust them".

She smiled warmly at him, her gaze softening even further. "That's good to hear, Harry. It's important that you're ready for this, and that you feel you're making the decision with a clear understanding of what it means".

"I do" he replied firmly. She studied him for another moment, her gaze just as piercing as Dumbledore's could be at times, and then, with a sharp flick of her wand, she tucked her notes away and stood.

"That's all for today" Mrs Gladhill said, "We'll be reviewing all the interviews and home assessments over the next few days, but I must say, I'm quite optimistic about your case".

Harry felt something in his chest loosen, and he quickly stood as well to shake her hand as she headed for the door.

"I'll be in touch about any further information we might require" she continued, "And I'd like to conduct one-on-one interviews with you as well, Lord Black, if you'd be amenable to that?"

"If it means getting permanent guardianship of Harry, I'm amenable to anything" Sirius replied, "Thank you for your time today, Mrs Gladhill".

"Not at all. I'll be in touch soon, but until then, keep providing that support for Harry. It's clear that he's thriving here... Mr Lupin, Harry".

They waved her goodbye with smiles on their faces before Sirius gently closed the door and then promptly dropped to the floor with a loud groan.

"That was exhausting!"

"You barely did anything" Remus scolded, nudging him with his foot.

"I had to act responsibly, Moony! Do you have any idea how much effort that takes?!"

"No, actually, I don't, because I act responsibly every day".

Harry smirked at the pair and shook his head. "So, do you really think we have a chance?"

Sirius grinned up at him from the wooden floor. "Definitely!"

He could only hope that his godfather was right…

Sunday, 24th December

Harry spent most of the next few days in the Black library, much to Sirius's disgust. Snape had been right - there were half a dozen different books on Occlumency, and he was determined to get through all of them before he returned to Hogwarts.

The idea of defending his mind against outside intrusion made sense. The practice of it, however, was something else entirely. He had spent hours trying to clear his thoughts, focus his magic inward, and build mental walls that, so far, felt about as sturdy as a stack of wet parchment. But even if he learned Occlumency perfectly, even if he did master it… was there any guarantee that it would actually work?

Harry frowned, drumming his fingers on the armchair he was curled up in. They didn't know for certain that it was Legilimency Lord Slytherin was using, after all - that was just the closest approximation that they could think of. But it couldn't be, could it, since the man apparently had no idea of their connection and Legilimency was next to impossible to successfully do even while actively trying.

The Dark Lord couldn't possibly be reading his mind accidentally, especially since he didn't seem to be reading Harry's mind at all. Instead, he had sent him a real-time glimpse into what his pet snake was doing under his orders - as if Harry's life wasn't already fucking weird enough.

Snape suspected that this strange bond of theirs had formed the night the Killing curse rebounded, but what did that actually mean? Magic had rules - even Dark Magic. If Voldemort had unknowingly created this link between them, then how?

Harry thought about the vision of Nagini attacking Mr Weasley, about how he hadn't just seen it but felt it, lived it even. It had been real in a way that went beyond a simple dream. Was it because Lord Slytherin had been particularly emotional at the time? Was it because he'd been looking through Nagini's eyes at that moment too? Had he wanted Harry to see it? No. No, that wouldn't have benefited him at all, so it had to have been accidental.

But if it was accidental, and it wasn't Legilimency, and him learning Occlumency would do nothing to prevent it… did that mean it would happen again?

Before he could dwell on it further, the door creaked open. He turned in time to see Sirius and Remus step inside. They weren't bickering, which was already suspicious, but even stranger than that was the way they were acting.

Sirius, usually so confident and loose-limbed, looked strangely hesitant, like he wasn't sure how to begin. Remus, ever composed, had an odd sort of expression on his face, the kind that made Harry's stomach flip uneasily.

He slowly closed his book and sat up straighter. "Alright, what's going on?"

"What makes you think anything's going on, pup?"

Harry gave the man a look, and Sirius sighed and shook his head. "Far too bloody observant for your own good, I swear…"

Remus sat down in the armchair next to him, while his godfather remained standing, seemingly too restless to sit still. It was only then that Harry noticed the thick white envelope in his hands.

"What's that?" he asked warily, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Nothing's wrong, pup, we just, uh…" Sirius abruptly thrust out his hand. "Here. Take it. We'd planned on telling you tomorrow as a sort of… bonus Christmas present, but… well, I can't wait anymore!"

Slowly, cautiously, Harry took the envelope from him, feeling more on edge by the second. The front of it was addressed to his godfather, and there was no return address, so he pulled out the half-crumpled letter inside of it instead - evidently, the pair had read and reread it multiple times already.

His fingers trembled slightly as he unfolded it, somehow already knowing what it said but needing to see it all the same, his eyes moving over each word, reading them once, then twice, and then a third time, before his brain finally accepted what he was seeing.

Legal Guardianship Certificate of Henry James Potter-Black, Marquess of Westminster, Earl of Gloucester

Marquess of Westminster. That was- That was Sirius's subsidiary title. The title reserved specifically and exclusively for the heir of the London dukedom, which meant-

He flipped the letter over, his eyes scanning it almost frantically now, searching for-

There.

At the bottom of the page, signed in silvery, shining ink, was his godfather's signature.

Sirius Orion Black, Duke of London

Harry's breath caught. His hands tightened around the paper as his brain tried to process what he was looking at. It was an adoption cert. His adoption cert! Sirius had had a private interview with Mrs Gladhill only a few days before, and Harry knew that it had gone well, but he hadn't expected to see the results of it this soon! But this cert proved it. The MCPS had signed off on it, and the request had gone through,h and Sirius, his godfather, was now officially his.

And just like that, Harry was set to inherit the most powerful dukedom in Great Britain.

And just like that… he had a family.

Before he could think too much about it, he stood and threw his arms around Sirius, holding on as tightly as he could. The man let out a startled breath before hugging him back just as fiercely.

"You're stuck with me now, kiddo" he murmured, his voice rough with emotion, "You're stuck with both of us".

Harry just held on tighter. Remus, after a moment, stood up and ruffled Harry's hair fondly, and the boy wasted no time in spinning around to pull him into an almost-punishing embrace as well.

"You should know something, pup" he said, voice gentle but firm, "This adoption - it isn't conditional. It's not about political titles, or your inheritance, or what school you attend. This is about you. About making sure you always have a home and people who love you, no matter what".

He swallowed hard, willing himself not to cry.

"We mean it, Harry" Sirius continued, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently pulling him away from Remus to meet his gaze, "If you don't want to go back to Hogwarts, that's fine. If you decide you want to be home-schooled, or travel the world, or become a bloody professional gobstones player - none of that changes the fact that you're ours. This? It's forever, pup".

Forever. The word sat heavy in his chest, but in a good way, like something solid and unshakable had settled there.

"I do want to go back" he said, and the certainty in his own voice surprised him, "I- I like Hogwarts. I like my classes. I like my friends. I… want to finish what I've started there".

Sirius studied him carefully, then broke into a wide grin. "Well, alright then! Good to know, but like I said - no pressure. You've got options now, pup. Real ones. To do whatever the bloody hell you like".

Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. Options. Freedom. A home.

His godfather suddenly clapped his hands together, breaking the moment with his usual flair for dramatics. "Right! Now that we've settled all that serious business, I say we celebrate! It is Christmas Eve, after all".

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were celebrating tomorrow?"

Remus sighed, surreptitiously trying to wipe his eyes. "He just wants an excuse to drink mulled wine and eat mince pies for the rest of the day".

"Bold of you to assume I need an excuse" Sirius shot back, "But I do think you should get out of this library, pup, before you start sprouting dust and turn into a sentient book. You can come back and study all you like later, but right now, I feel like celebrating, don't you?"

Harry could only nod, letting the man tug him along towards the door, still feeling somewhat choked and emotional and a lot - but for the first time in his life, he had a Christmas worth looking forward to.

Monday, 25th December

Twenty-four hours later, Harry was done celebrating.

He'd eaten, drunk, and slept more in the previous day than he had in his entire life, and even now, sprawled out on one of the soft leather couches in the living room, he didn't ever want to move again.

He was slowly making his way through a new book which was propped haphazardly on his chest, his neck bent at an awkward angle to read it - but the alternative, actually sitting up, felt too impossible a chore. It truly was an exceptional book, however. It was the first of the set that Sirius and Remus had gotten him for Christmas, titled Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts, which had superb, moving colour illustrations of all the counterjinxes and hexes it described.

On the floor next to him lay the wrappers of the chocolate frogs collection the Weasleys had sent him, as well as a handful of even more books that his other friends had gifted. The books that came from his Slytherin friends were currently hidden in his room - based on the brief flip-through he'd given them, he didn't think Sirius and Remus would necessarily approve.

Next to the stack on the floor was another, smaller stack of various shiny trinkets and still-wrapped presents that had been sent by… other people.

Harry was beyond glad to have returned to Grimmauld Place for Christmas. It was for a myriad of reasons, of course, but early that morning, as Padfoot had jumped on his bed to wake him and then dragged him downstairs to the tree in the drawing room, Harry became especially glad for one reason in particular - If he'd had to accept the amount of presents he'd received from students he'd never even spoken to in person, then he would not have been able to stop himself from cursing them into oblivion.

There were dozens of meaningless, sycophantic gifts, all from people he saw only in passing, and all given with the expectation that he'd give them the time of day in return - as if his loyalty could be bought!

Eying up the silver lion pendant at the top of the pile - sent by Romilda Vane, of course - Harry couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh.

This entire ordeal had to stop.

"Sirius?"

The man hummed and took another sip of mulled wine, his eyes latched to the roaring fireplace. "Yes, pup?"

"You strike me as someone who had a lot of paramours growing up".

He choked.

Harry watched in amusement as Remus quickly slapped him on the back a few times as he spluttered and coughed around his mouthful of wine, his head jerking around to stare at him in absolute incredulity.

"Merlin, Harry! You cannot just say things like that!"

He raised a solitary eyebrow. "Am I wrong?"

"Well… No. Not- Not exactly, but- but- but why are you asking me about that?!"

"Since that article about you adopting me came out, and since I decided to look the part, and since I'm… me" he finished lamely, reluctantly sitting up, "I've been getting a lot of… attention at school".

"Oh". Sirius waggled his eyebrows in a frankly ridiculous manner.

"Unwanted attention".

"Oh". He sat back in his chair with a frown.

"Yeah. So, I wanted to ask if you knew of any way to… politely yet very very obviously turn them all down".

"Got your eye on someone else, have you?"

"No. I don't" Harry replied flatly, shutting his book, "Because I'm literally fifteen!"

Sirius gave him a roguish grin. "Oh, I don't know about using that as an excuse, pup. I got up to all sorts of mischief back when I was fifteen. I mean, there was this one girl in Ravenclaw, and let me tell you-"

Remus rather pointedly cleared his throat, and the man immediately blanched and turned his gaze back to the fire, looking more and more like a scolded dog by the second. Rolling his eyes at his partner's antics, the werewolf turned back to Harry to answer.

"There's no rush to enter into a relationship with someone, pup, especially if you don't know whether or not you like them. Just be firm, make it clear that you're not interested in dating right now, and above all else, be kind" he said, "You'd be surprised how well people take rejection if you wrap it up as an apology. If they still don't back off after that, then you can be more blunt".

"And if they still don't back off even after that" Sirius added, his dark eyes reflecting the flickering flames, "Then you leave them to me. Got it?"

Harry glanced between them, expecting Remus to chime in with his usual tirade about how violence is never the answer, Padfoot, but to his surprise, the man looked just as stern as his partner. He felt something warm and squishy bloom to life deep down inside his chest and found himself fighting back a sudden wave of tears.

"Got it".

Sirius studied him for a moment, then suddenly leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Now, if you did have your eye on someone…"

Harry groaned. "I don't!"

Remus smirked, looking far too amused at his partner's antics. "You'll have to forgive him, pup. Padfoot here spent most of his teenage years either being pursued or doing the pursuing. He finds it unfathomable that someone your age isn't obsessed with snogging in broom closets".

"That is not true!" Sirius protested, then hesitated, "…Well. Mostly not true".

Harry snorted and flopped back onto the couch, tossing his book onto the coffee table. He let out a slow breath, relaxing into the warmth of the room, the flickering fire, and the comforting presence of his family.

"Thanks, though" he said after a moment, voice quieter but sincere, "For, you know… not being weird about it".

"Of course" Remus said simply, whereas Sirius shrugged. "Look, as long as you're happy - and not secretly engaged to, I don't know, Draco Malfoy or someone - I think we can handle it".

Harry let out a bark of laughter. "Merlin, can you imagine?"

"I'd rather not" Sirius replied with a grimace, "But if you ever do decide to date a Slytherin, just… break it to me gently, alright?"

"Alright" he agreed, although personally he couldn't see that happening anytime soon.

Sunday, 31st December

The house was quiet. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when Sirius and Remus had both turned in early, leaving Harry alone in the drawing room. A low fire crackled in the hearth, and the clock on the mantel ticked steadily towards midnight.

Harry was too wired to sleep.

Earlier that day, he'd received a letter from Gringotts. When his godfather had seen it, he'd made some off-hand comment about it being a yearly statement for the Potter vaults, and he'd been right... to an extent.

But as well as a thorough log of everything that Harry owned, there had been an official hand-scrawled letter from Griphook containing far more important news. Harry stared down at the crisp words staring back at him.

Lord Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that your petition for the Peverell dukedoms has been officially granted. As of December 31st, you are now recognised as heir apparent. Upon reaching the age of majority, you shall be formally instated as the Duke of Devon, Duke of Somerset, and Duke of Dorset, with all rights, privileges, and responsibilities appertaining to these titles therein. Until such time, the estates and holdings associated with these titles shall remain under your stewardship, to be exercised in accordance with the laws governing hereditary peerage.

Should you require further assistance regarding estate management, political obligations, or legal affairs concerning your new station, Gringotts remains at your service.

Sincerely,

Accounts Manager Griphook

Gringotts Wizarding Bank

Fortius Quo Fidelius

Harry exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he reread the letter for the tenth time.

Well.

That was that.

Months of waiting, and now it was official. He wasn't just the Most Honourable Henry II, Marquess of Westminster, Earl of Gloucester. He was soon to be the Most Honourable Henry II, Marquess of Westminster, Earl of Gloucester, Heir Apparent to the Dukedoms of Devon, Somerset, and Dorset.

He was more powerful than Sirius now - and, if he was being completely honest with himself, the realisation made him a little dizzy.

It wasn't that he hadn't known this was coming - he'd chosen this, after all. But seeing it written out, finalised, real… it felt heavier than he expected. Not that it meant anything, of course, not really. It wasn't like he planned to lord it over Sirius or throw his weight around in Wizengamot any time soon. He wasn't even in Wizengamot yet!

But still.

Harry turned the letter over, drumming his fingers against the parchment. He should tell them… shouldn't he? But what would that even look like? Hey guys, turns out I've got more political influence than both of you combined, isn't that hilarious? Yeah. That'd go over well.

He knew they wouldn't be upset, not exactly - but Sirius had always been proud of his position, proud of his ability to protect Harry from the Ministry and Dumbledore's meddling. And Remus… Remus already seemed so cautious in his place here, like he wasn't quite convinced he belonged in their little family - especially since he had no legal claim to Harry like his partner did, since werewolves couldn't adopt. Harry didn't want to give them another reason to feel uncertain.

Besides, it wasn't like it even changed anything. The titles had sat empty for years! What difference did a few more months make? He could just… tell them when he turned seventeen. Yeah. That was it. A nice, easy, simple solution. For now, he'd keep it to himself. He could deal with the politics of all later, once he was old enough to legally do so. And it wasn't as if anyone else was going to check up on the Peverell dukedoms anyway.

Harry sighed and, after carefully reading the letter one last time, he folded it up and let it float gently into the fireplace, watching as golden flames flickered at the edges, quickly consuming the letter until nothing remained but a few curling embers.

It was a future problem.

Tonight, he was just Harry - just a fifteen-year-old boy spending Christmas at home with his newly official family. Not a duke-to-be, not an heir apparent, not the subject of endless speculation at Hogwarts. Just… himself.

He stretched, feeling the warmth of the fire seep into his bones, then rose from the couch with a yawn. The house was still, the silence broken only by the occasional crackle from the hearth. He padded through the dimly lit corridors of Grimmauld Place, pausing only once to glance out of the window.

Outside, snow blanketed the London streets, the glow of street lamps casting golden halos over the frost-covered pavement. It looked peaceful, untouched. A world separate from everything, waiting for him come morning.

Shaking his head, Harry turned away and made his way upstairs.

Tomorrow, he'd go back to studying Occlumency. Tomorrow, he'd think about the responsibilities, the expectations, the politics. Tomorrow, he'd figure out how to navigate the mess that was his life.

But for now, he crawled into bed, pulling the warm duvet over himself as he let his mind go blissfully blank.

Tomorrow could wait.