Chapter Text
Election Day had arrived in Magical Britain, and the whole country was buzzing with anticipation.
Harry and his family went to the Ministry early to cast their votes, sending sympathetic glances to the team of harassed-looking Ministry clerks who were dealing with all the votes coming in by owl and floo.
It was as simple as pressing his wand to Amelia’s name on the ballot card, and watching it vanish in a flash of gold light.
They stuck around for a bit afterwards, helping Susan with her last-minute campaigning for her aunt — not that the Hufflepuff needed their help, as terrifyingly competent as she was — and then afterwards went over to Longbottom Manor in anticipation of the victory party. Sirius and Charlie swung by the Pottery to pick up the Forrester kids — just one last check away from being their kids. The couple had been frantically getting Grimmauld Place ready for the last week, planning on moving over there with Amy and Tahan after they’d seen all the other kids off to school.
They brought Frankie with them too, of course, and Harry was not remotely surprised when the Slytherin boy made a beeline for Remus and Snape.
If that boy wasn’t officially their ward by the end of the school year, Harry would streak through the whole of Hogwarts.
Neville was in fine hosting form, much to his grandmother’s pride. More and more people were coming through the floo as the day passed — all the usual crowd, the ones who had worked so hard to make this day happen.
Harry left his boyfriend chatting with Tonks, wandering through to squeeze in beside Ginny on an oversized armchair in the much quieter conservatory. “Hey, you,” he greeted, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “How’s it feeling, today?”
The day before, they had snuck out — or rather, Ginny had snuck out, and Harry had left the house with enthusiastic encouragement from his godfather — to meet Charlie’s tattoo artist friend for their promised date. Ginny had gained a gold ring through the brand new cartilage of her magically regrown ear, which had earned her mother’s ire but was a great decoy to draw away from the bar through her left nipple, which Mrs Weasley definitely did not know about.
“Not too bad; healing spells are a marvel.” Ginny grinned at him, wiggling her eyebrows. “How about you?”
“Hardly even feel it.” His new tattoo, a golden snitch fluttering just at the base of the right side of his ribs, was fully healed and moving already.
“And how does Draco like it?” Ginny leered, wiggling her eyebrows.
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he joked in the same tone. Draco was definitely a big fan of the tattoo, even if he did roll his eyes at the seeker puns Harry made. “How does Nev like yours? Has he seen it yet?” He still remembered the shade of red Neville had turned when they discussed it.
“Not yet. I mean, he knows it’s there, obviously,” Ginny said, running a finger gently over her new earring. “But he hasn’t seen it.” Then she smirked wolfishly. “But I’m staying the night here, so…”
Harry laughed, rubbing the fuzz on the side of her head. She wasn’t growing it out, even though there were potions that would do it in an instant. Harry was glad; he liked this new look on her. She looked older, and with another Weasley growth spurt and her muscles from playing quidditch, she looked like a girl you didn’t want to mess with.
“Y’know, I’m gonna kind of miss our little dorm arrangement from the summer,” he confessed. “Though I won’t miss hearing you and Neville when you forget your Silencing charms.”
Ginny cackled, unrepentant. “I know what you mean,” she agreed, curling into him slightly. “It was nice. Our little escape from the world. Miles better than my usual dorm mates.” She made a disgruntled face; due to her solid friendships with most of the year above, Ginny wasn’t very close to the other Gryffindor girls in her year. They were jealous of her friendship with Harry, for one.
“Tell me about it.” Dean and Seamus hadn’t been too bad, but Ron had been a nightmare to live with before he’d figured out Silencing charms, his snores vibrating the whole room.
Harry wouldn’t have to deal with that anymore, though. “Between you and me,” he said, dropping his voice, “I’m not gonna have that problem this year.”
Ginny raised a suspicious brow. “You’re not moving down to the Chamber, are you?”
Harry snorted. “Not quite. Though I might have, if not for this.” Since he could walk through the castle walls, it wouldn’t even be an inconvenience. “Think about it.” He’d kept it secret since McGonagall had given him the badge, but so close to returning to school he didn’t mind if Ginny let it slip.
He watched her think for several seconds, before the penny dropped. “No way!” she breathed, wide-eyed. “You…?” She tapped her chest, about where a badge would sit on a Hogwarts robe, and he nodded. Immediately, he was tackled in a tight hug, Ginny squealing into his ear. “Harry, that’s amazing!” Then she pulled back, and scoffed. “You fucking nerd. Mr Eight Os.”
He just rolled his eyes — they were back to this again. He probably wouldn’t be rid of that nickname until after he got his NEWT results.
“I didn’t think she’d give it to me,” he confessed. “Thought I was too much trouble, to be honest.”
Ginny grinned at him. “You’re the good kind of trouble, though,” she told him, winking.
“Oi, you two!” The call startled both of them, turning to see Draco in the doorway. “The count’s almost over, they should be announcing it soon.”
Harry and Ginny scrambled to their feet, following Draco into the main parlour. The whole room was clustered around a Wizarding Wireless with the volume turned up, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Susan sat closest to the Wireless, on Theo’s lap with a white-knuckle grip on his hands. Today’s eyepatch was bright orange with the words ‘Vote Minister Bones’ printed in black.
Harry squeezed into a seat next to Tonks, trying not to elbow her in the stomach as he situated himself. In the metamorphmagus’ tight t-shirt, the bump of the four-month pregnancy was unmistakeable, and Tonks couldn’t stop grinning about it.
Draco perched on the arm of the sofa beside him, hand coming to Harry’s shoulder, and Harry reached up to squeeze it anxiously.
“You know she’s going to win, right?” Tonks murmured, watching him in amusement. “Hawthorne is a clotpole. No one’s going to vote for him.”
“You never know,” Harry pointed out warily, “they voted for Fudge, after all.”
Then Draco hushed him, as Susan turned the volume up even louder.
“It seems we have the final count coming in!” the announcer declared. “And… with a staggering ninety-six percent of the votes, Interim Minister Amelia Bones is now our confirmed new Minister for Magic! Congratulations, Minister Bones, and commiserations to Mr Hawthorne.”
Harry was on his feet with excitement, Tonks right beside him as the whole room erupted in cheers. Susan burst out sobbing in Theo’s arms, and Mrs Longbottom didn’t even get mad when the twins let off some indoor fireworks. But they were quickly extinguished, as Amelia’s victory speech began on the broadcast.
“Thank you all for putting your faith in me — I know it isn’t easy, after such a difficult few years. But the dark times have passed, and I will do everything in my power to help this country step into the light and be the best magical community it can be. For all our magical brethren, all over Britain. This summer has been a summer of change, and while as Interim Minister I have, with the help of my excellent staff and the dedicated Wizengamot, started to implement some long-overdue changes; I truly hope that now I have been elected, I will be able to continue that change for the better. All of you, all of us; we flourished in the face of adversity, and now it is time to reap our rewards and enjoy our peace. Thank you again, and I look forward to heralding in a better, brighter Magical Britain.”
“Oh, she is good,” Narcissa mused quietly. “Making it seem like a community effort to put this country to rights, rather than the swarm of teenagers who secretly took over our government.” She was clearly teasing, her grey eyes amused, and Susan laughed.
“Look, if the adults are gonna leave a mess, sometimes the kids have to clean it up,” she joked.
Hetty the house elf appeared with several bottles of champagne, and soon everyone had a glass — except Tonks and the kids, who drank sparkling grape juice. “To Minister Bones,” Kingsley declared, raising his glass. “And her secret teenage militia.”
“Minister Bones!” everyone chorused happily.
“You’re moving up in the world, Theo,” Draco drawled playfully. “Dating the Minister’s niece.”
Theo smirked, green eyes cast fondly at Susan, who had stopped crying by this point. “Don’t you see, Draco? That was my plan all along.”
Susan laughed the loudest at that, raising an eyebrow. “And here I thought your plan was to date the future Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.”
“There’s multiple stages to my plan, darling,” Theo assured her. “I’m playing the long game.”
Susan snorted, tugging him by the shirt collar into a kiss that had all of them whistling.
“I just can’t believe we have to go back to school on Thursday,” the Hufflepuff girl complained, once she had detached from her boyfriend. “Pretending to be normal students, ugh.”
“Oh, shut up, like you aren’t going to love every second of being Head Girl,” Hannah teased her best friend. She was healing in leaps and bounds now she had her chair, and seemed to be quite excited to tackle seventh year.
“That will be nice,” Susan agreed, “and it’ll look great on my resume. I just wish I knew who McGonagall picked as Head Boy. I hope it’s not someone awful. Merlin, what if it’s Ron?”
None of the Weasleys in the room were offended by the slight to their brother, and Harry sat there quietly smirking. Susan had been so quick to assume that since none of them had immediately owned up to it, it was someone outside their social circle.
He looked across the room at Ginny, whose eyes were already bright with glee. “It’s the worst person, I’m really sorry, Susan,” she said sympathetically. “It’s going to be such a chore dealing with him.”
Susan’s eye landed on her in shock. “You know who it is?” Her face filled with dismay. “Oh, does that mean it is Ron?”
Ginny’s solemn expression cracked at the corners. “Worse than Ron,” she said with a sad shake of her head. “You’re going to have to put up with Harry.”
All eyes were on the Gryffindor boy, who grinned sheepishly. “Uh. Surprise?”
“HARRY!” Susan practically threw herself at him, Tonks only barely managing to dive out of the way in time. “Why didn’t you tell me, you git! Oh, this is going to be brilliant! I was so worried it would be someone shit, but it’s you, that’s great!”
He laughed, steadying her before she could fall off his lap. She was still working on the depth perception thing.
“If it makes you feel better, Sooz, I didn’t tell anyone. Until Ginny, like, ten minutes ago.”
“He didn’t even tell me,” Draco cut in, glaring lightly at his fiancé. Harry winced, and both sets of twins ‘ooh’ed in the background.
“Honestly I sort of forgot,” he admitted, giving the blond a pointed look. In the face of his other news, his Head Boy badge had rather slipped his mind.
Draco softened slightly, but still didn’t look impressed.
“You’re going to have to make it up to me, Potter,” he muttered, once Susan had left Harry’s lap and decided a dance party was in order while they waited for Amelia and Percy to get home and celebrate with them.
Harry looked up, eyes smouldering. “Head Boy gets a private room,” he pointed out in a sultry murmur, tugging Draco half over the back of the sofa. “I’m sure that can be arranged.”
Draco’s eyes darkened, and as Harry yanked him the rest of the way into his lap, no one really cared that the two of them were snogging like there was no tomorrow, left alone on the sofa in the corner.
They were all used to it by now, after all.
.-.-.-.
Packing up for school was decidedly weird, this time around.
Not only was Harry viscerally aware that this was the last time he would ever pack his trunk for a year at Hogwarts, but he was also having to pack up the majority of his bedroom at Seren Du, as well.
With no need for an Unplottable house to keep Harry safe, the family would be moving out and returning the manor to its summer home status. Grimmauld was ready, the paperwork on the Forrester kids had been signed, and it was time for them all to go home.
“Remind me why I’m the only one packing?” Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder at Draco, who was sprawled on the bed eating apple slices and watching Harry magically pack books into an expanded trunk.
“Because it’s your room?” Draco retorted.
“Yeah, which you’ve been basically living in for the last two summers,” Harry said without missing a beat. “Half this stuff is yours, I swear.” The bedroom that was actually Draco’s room had taken all of ten minutes to pack, and five of those were spent double checking that they hadn’t left any vials of lube or sex toys or anything weird hidden somewhere, which then might be found at a later date and used to embarrass the hell out of them.
“But it’ll all go to your room at Grimmauld, which is where I’m likely to spend most of my time when not at school anyway.”
“Won’t you go with your mum?” Harry asked, finishing up with the books and deciding to take a break, flopping down next to Draco on the bed. The Slytherin shrugged.
“Potentially. But I’ll still come over to see you most days.” He smiled helplessly. “As many of our friends have pointed out to us, we’re really quite co-dependent, darling.” He didn’t sound upset about it; he almost sounded proud.
Harry snorted, leaning in to kiss him. “We’re not that co-dependent,” he insisted. “We’re just making up for all that time we had to pretend we hated each other.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, love.”
“You help me sleep at night.” Harry’s hand slid down Draco’s stomach, and the blond smirked.
“Exactly. Co-dependent.” He raised up on his elbows, kissing Harry softly, parting his lips and easing him into a deeper kiss.
“For fuck’s sake, can you two stop for five minutes?”
Charlie stood in the doorway, a box tucked under one arm.
“Actually, we just got started, so if you could shut the door…”
Charlie laughed, tossing a light Tickling charm at Draco in retort. “Cissa needs to borrow you for a bit,” he said. “Malfoy ward stuff.” In his defence, he looked slightly apologetic.
Draco gave a dramatic groan, tearing himself reluctantly away from Harry and rolling off the bed onto his feet. It was unfair how he managed to look graceful doing so — Harry would just look like a drunk giraffe.
“Maybe you’ll actually get some packing done while I’m gone,” Draco joked.
“Sorry, Harry’s needed too. Grunt work in the potions lab,” Charlie informed him. It was Harry’s turn to sigh dramatically.
“Wonderful.” Remus was moving into Snape’s quarters at Hogwarts, but Snape didn’t want to leave potions ingredients at Seren Du for an unspecified amount of time, so everything had to be moved from his lab here to the school. And unfortunately, due to the sensitive nature of the ingredients, that all had to be done by hand.
They worked in companionable silence, Snape occasionally giving Harry instructions on things, but for the most part the almost-seventh year knew what to do with each ingredient. Harry was still getting used to seeing Snape in short sleeves; something the man did often, now that there was no brand on his arm.
“Now that you are no longer in need of training,” Snape began, startling Harry, “that means you are also no longer in need of repeated detentions under my care.” He levelled a stern look at Harry; the kind of look that had students crying into their cauldrons, but only left Harry mildly amused. “If you do get a detention, it will be becase you have earned it, and the punishment will reflect that.”
“No more mouthing off in class, then,” Harry surmised, smirking as he put a box of shrivelfigs in the trunk. “Yes, sir.”
Snape snorted, muttering something that sounded an awful lot like ‘I’ll believe that when I see it’.
“I also expect you to put the appropriate amount of effort into my class. Horace did nothing but sing your praises last year, and I expect you to put in that same level of dedication.”
Harry realised what the man was getting at, and looked up at him knowingly. “No more masks,” he promised. “For either of us. You’re the same cranky bastard, and I’m the same insufferable Gryffindor, but… none of the rest.” No pretending he was worse at subjects than he was. No acting like he couldn’t stand to be in Snape’s presence. No lying to his friends about his time spent with the man. And no more of Snape pretending he hated everything about Harry James Potter.
“None of the rest,” Snape agreed quietly. He strode over to Harry, under the pretence of checking on the powdered erumpent horn, but put a hand on the Gryffindor’s shoulder. “I am proud of you, you know,” he murmured, so soft Harry almost didn’t hear it. His breath caught, heart stuttering at the words. He’d heard them a hundred times since the battle, from all kinds of people, but… never from Snape.
“I… d’you think Mum would be?” he asked, biting his lip, watching the man’s expression. Snape’s gaze cast over Harry in that way that made him feel so very exposed.
“Lily would be bragging about her son from here to the moon, were she alive,” he said, smiling ever so slightly. “Not because of your achievements, though she’d be proud of those too. But becase of the man you have become.”
Harry’s eyes stung at the corners, and he resolutely ignored it. “I… thanks, Severus.” He paused, thinking on the words he didn’t think he’d ever said, not to the Potions Master’s face. “I wouldn’t be alive if not for you.” Not just the training. His help within the castle, the one adult Harry could count on even when everything was going to shit. Constant and solemn-eyed and always pushing Harry to be better, to stand taller, to learn his worth and demand others do the same.
“You probably wouldn’t,” Severus agreed wryly. “But my life would not be worth living had I let you die.”
Unable to stand it any longer, Harry turned, hugging the lanky Slytherin hard around the waist, letting a few tears escape into the man’s black t-shirt. Slowly, Snape’s arms closed around him, his head tilting down to rest against Harry’s.
It was a while before they got back to categorising ingredients.
.-.-.
They ate dinner together in the kitchen, one last time as a family.
Of course, it wasn’t actually one last time — they would be back for visits, definitely. At least two weeks every summer, Sirius had promised. No matter how far-flung the family got, how many kids they ended up with, whatever was going on in their lives; two weeks, every summer, for the entire Black family.
“All settled at the Manor, then, Cissa?” Sirius asked, passing his cousin the bottle of wine to pour.
“Just about,” she confirmed. “I daresay it’s going to be rather quiet, rattling around that old manor by myself.” A touch of sadness tinged her voice. “I’ll have to find a hobby.”
“I thought you already had a hobby?” Snape remarked, “meddling in everyone else’s business.” The tone was snide, but it just made Narcissa laugh.
“If you did not want me to meddle, Severus Snape, you would not have asked me to come with you.”
“Come with you where?” Remus asked, frowning in confusion. “Is this about that errand you ran the other day?”
To Harry’s astonishment, Snape blushed.
Under the table, Draco gripped Harry’s knee tightly, and when Harry glanced at him the blond looked like he’d come to some incredible realisation. Harry was just about to ask him to share, but then Snape spoke again.
“I was going to do this on Palace Pier,” Snape bit out archly, glaring at Narcissa. “But then someone reminded me that such things may cause a fuss amongst the small-minded muggles. And is now insisting that it would be best done before we return to Hogwarts. In case I lose my nerve.”
Draco’s grip grew tighter, almost painful, but Harry was still very confused about what was going on. Snape pushed his chair back a little, facing Remus properly. The werewolf looked just as bewildered as Harry felt.
“I am not a man prone to dramatic gestures,” Snape said, his voice full of emotion in a way that Harry had never heard before. Remus went tense, dropping his fork, scooting his chair back as well. “Nor am I one for excessive words — unless those words are in the destruction of someone’s character.” He smirked, and so did Remus, sharing some kind of in-joke. “But I am lucky, because despite my flaws you have never hesitated to accept me as I am, every part of me. You have seen me at my worst, and I sincerely hope my best is yet to come.”
Things were rapidly piecing together in Harry’s brain now, and he didn’t seem to be the only one, as Sirius murmured a quiet ‘oh, fuck me’ before Charlie could shush him.
Snape got out of his chair, dropping to one knee in front of Remus. Remus made a soft choking noise in response, eyes bugging out of his head. “Since we were foolish teenagers with no idea what the world had in store, I have promised you a life together, Remus Lupin. It has taken a while to get here, but… I would very much like it if you would begin that life, with me. As my husband.”
Then, from the pocket of his jeans, came a ring. A simple gold band, set all the way around with small amber gemstones. He held it up to Remus, his face appearing impassive at first glance — but Harry could see the naked hope in those ink-dark eyes.
“Severus,” Remus breathed shakily. “I have waited twenty years to hear those words, and my answer still hasn’t changed. Yes, I’ll marry you.”
For the second time in his life, Harry saw Remus Lupin and Severus Snape kiss each other, Remus’ hands cupping Snape’s cheeks.
No one spoke as Snape slid the ring onto Remus’ finger, kissing it once it was there and then rising to reclaim his chair. Then Remus turned, looking ten years younger as he beamed at them all.
“So,” he said, shifting his chair back up to the table. “Who’s for dessert?”
.-.-.-.
The morning of September first was a warm one, the summer lingering unseasonably late, as if it was aware the students of Hogwarts had not truly been able to enjoy the start of it. Harry’s bedroom window was open, but even so the duvet had been kicked down to the bottom of the bed, Draco’s feet tangled up in the edge of it. His bare chest was pressed to Harry’s back, spooning up behind him, and Harry would have happily stayed there forever.
“Don’t wanna get up,” he murmured petulantly, Draco’s warm breath tickling the back of his neck.
“It’s early yet,” Draco told him, hand sliding languidly up his side. “We don’t have to.”
They lay there for a while, Draco pressing fluttering kisses to Harry’s shoulder, still skimming that hand up and down his side, just light enough to make the skin prickle pleasantly. Harry stretched out a little further, which had the side effect of pressing his arse back against Draco’s quickly-hardening cock. The Slytherin hummed happily, fingers skirting up and over Harry’s nipple, though he still didn’t move otherwise. He scraped his teeth gently across the sensitive skin of Harry’s neck, drawing a sigh from the Gryffindor.
This continued for a while longer; tiny movements, teasing touches, a slow and lazy journey into wakefulness. But there was intent to it, a heat building in that aching slowness, and Harry wasn’t surprised when eventually that hand stroking his chest went down, down, right beneath the waistband of his boxers. He gasped, arching back against Draco, the blond’s fingers curling firmly around his length.
Draco continued to press against him, hips bucking in bigger movements now, his leg sliding between Harry’s and his other arm creeping around the Gryffindor’s shoulders, bowing his back so their lips could meet in a messy kiss. A breathless whine escaped Harry as fingers tightened in his hair, kisses dotting along the shadowed line of his unshaven jaw until a tongue started to drag across his throat. Draco bucked his hips harder, hand around Harry dry but just the right side of sweet friction, thumb flicking over his leaking head and making Harry whimper slightly. Teeth nipped at his Adam’s apple, the tingling pressure of his arousal building gradually within him.
Harry reached back blindly, scrabbling a hand down Draco’s side, his back, grabbing a handful of his silk-clad backside, urging him to move harder, faster, more. The rhythm between the hand on his own erection and the hard length jutting into the swell of his arse was almost perfect, Draco’s quiet moans singing in his ear like a prayer, a plea. Harry closed his eyes, straining to reach his release, hoping that each pump of Draco’s hand around his cock would be the perfect angle, the sizzle in his veins almost painful as he remained on the brink but not quite, thighs tensing, toes curling, so close—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Boys, come on, we’ve got to pick up the kids at the Pottery and I don’t want to be late!” Sirius, on the other side of the door, cheerful and probably entirely too aware of what he’d just interrupted, the heat he’d as good as tossed a freezing bucket of water over.
Harry groaned, feeling his arousal die even with Draco’s hand still around him, his partner rolling onto his back with an irritated huff.
“Every fucking time,” Harry groused, trying to fight through his addled brain, trying to comprehend such delicious torture with such an abrupt, unsatisfying end. “It’s like he waits, right until the worst moment.”
“That requires your godfather having more knowledge of our sex life than I ever want to contemplate,” Draco told him, shuddering. “Sodding Salazar, I’m going to murder him one day.”
“I’ll help you hide the body,” Harry promised. He cast a wandless tempus, his clock having been moved to his room at Grimmauld Place. “Are you kidding me, it’s not even nine yet! Don’t want to be late, I swear to fucking Merlin I am going to leave behind a prank that will make Charlie not want to touch him for weeks.” He was already thinking about it, running through his mental list of spells, wondering what would be appropriate — what didn’t have an immediate counter to it.
“You could do that,” Draco drawled, sitting up and giving him a pointed look. “Or you could come and join me in the shower and we’ll finish what we started.”
On second thought, that was a much better idea than Harry’s.
.-.-.
Sirius was a ball of energy at breakfast, talking a mile a minute, asking the boys if they had everything and reminding Harry to send Hedwig off with his signed England contract before he left, babbling as he worried a napkin between his fingers. Harry couldn’t even be mad at him about the interruption; his godfather was a little bit of a wreck, and it tugged at Harry’s heart.
He was a bit of a wreck, too, inside. They were leaving this house, his home, his sanctuary, and they were going to board the Hogwarts Express for the very last time.
He kept telling himself he was being ridiculous — he could go back and visit Hogwarts whenever he liked, they literally couldn’t keep him out even if they wanted to. And for the first time ever there was nothing to fear from the castle; no manipulative headmasters or murderous Dark Lords or tricks and traps lurking round dark corners for Harry to fall into.
Just classes, and friends, and quidditch.
McGonagall was right — without the Head Boy position, he would go spare with boredom.
Assuring Sirius for the hundredth time that yes, he had everything, and even if he didn’t he could ask Ceri to get it or just apparate home and get it himself, Harry finished off his breakfast and stood. And paused.
He’d left this place for a whole school year before. Multiple times. So why did it feel so much worse, now?
Sirius slung an arm over his shoulders, snapping him out of his reverie. “Time to rejoin the big wide world, now, kiddo,” he murmured. “No more hiding out here and pretending the rest of it all doesn’t exist.”
Oh. That was why.
Harry resolutely swallowed against the tears that threatened to come, nodding sharply. “I’m gonna go send Hedwig off.” He had signed the contract with the England team, after having Mrs Frobisher read through the whole thing and check that he wasn’t going to be stuck with some unreasonable publicity bullshit. It was great, and once Andy received it Harry would officially be seeker for England.
Big wide world, indeed.
Sirius nudged him into movement, so Harry did as he said, scratching Hedwig on the head before sending her off with the tightly rolled parchment. Then he gave one last look around his room, and wiped surreptitiously at his eyes.
“You soppy little lion.”
He wasn’t sure when Draco had come in, but there he was, his face so terribly fond Harry’s heart cracked a little further. “I promise one of these days I’ll stop crying,” Harry joked, and Draco crossed the distance between them, holding him close.
“You cry as much as you like, my love,” he whispered, swaying them slightly as Harry buried his face in the blond’s shoulder.
“We’ll be back,” Draco continued softly. “Your room will always be your room. No one’s going to take it away from you.”
What was it with his loved ones and reading the inner depths of his soul like it was written plain on his face?? He wasn’t that transparent, surely?
“I know,” he murmured, though it felt better to say it out loud. “And I have my room at Grimmauld, too. I know it’s better this way — we need to have a home we can invite people over to. The kids need that. But…”
“But this place is home, too,” Draco finished for him. A kiss pressed to Harry’s hair, a soft inhale of his shampoo. “You can have more than one home, Harry. It’s fine.”
For a boy who once had no home at all, it seemed an entirely foreign concept.
Eventually, he straightened up, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes. He didn’t want to get the train to Hogwarts looking like he’d been bawling his eyes out like a homesick first year. He was Head Boy; he was supposed to be setting an example.
“You go wash your face,” Draco suggested. “I’ll get our trunks downstairs. Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask — when did you get your cloak back?”
Harry blinked, his mild emotional spiral derailed by the strange question. “My what?”
“Your invisibility cloak. I saw you put it in your trunk last night and I was going to ask but then I got distracted.”
He froze, thinking of the folded piece of fabric within his trunk — always handy to have, just in case — but also thinking of the stone set in a ring and the wand brimming with power, both now tucked away inside little box in a hidden drawer in his desk at Grimmauld Place.
Thinking of a voice, in the back of his mind, that never truly went away.
“Oh, that.” He forced a smile on his face. “It just showed up, after Dumbledore died. Guess it was the family magic bringing it back.” Not technically a lie.
Draco’s brow furrowed. “How odd,” he mused, then shrugged. “Well, I’m glad you have it back. I know how much it means to you.” He leaned in, pecking Harry’s cheek. “Go on, go take a minute to clean up. Sirius will have an aneurism if we don’t leave soon.” They were trusting Essie and Tinker to make sure that all four of the children were packed and ready to go in time. Once they left, the Pottery would be empty again.
For now.
Sure enough, Sirius was bouncing up and down when Harry made it downstairs. Snape looked only mildly murderous — but then he’d been in a good mood since the night before, understandably.
The students were going to shit themselves if Snape dared smile at the Welcoming Feast.
“Let’s go, let’s go!” Sirius hassled, making Harry roll his eyes and jump the last three stairs.
“I’m coming! Keep your hair on!”
Ceri hurried in from the kitchen, holding a stack of metal sandwich boxes. “Ceri has made lunches for young masters and mistress’ train journey!” She handed one each to Harry and Draco, and the last two to Charlie.
Harry grinned. “Brilliant, thanks Ceri. We’ll see you at Christmas.” Ceri would, of course, be moving to Grimmauld with the family. At this point Harry wasn’t sure any of them could find their own arses with two hands and a map without the little house elf.
Ceri bobbed her head in thanks, then fixed the two boys with a stern look. “Young masters is staying out of trouble this year,” she declared — a statement, not a question. Sirius let out a cough that sounded an awful lot like a laugh.
“We’ll try our best, Ceri,” Harry promised sincerely. She eyed him a little longer, then nodded, satisfied.
“Ceri is going to the other house to wait for masters and little master and mistress.” She was overjoyed at the idea of having a couple of younger kids to take care of.
“Perfect, we’ll see you there,” Charlie said. “Let’s get moving.”
All together, the seven of them left the house, Harry taking one last look at the first place he had ever experienced true freedom, and they headed for the edge of the wards.
“What’s happening with Buckbeak?” Harry asked suddenly, glancing back at the hippogriff sunning himself in the grass. Surely they weren’t leaving him there all alone, for the whole year?
“Oh, I’m gonna take him back to Hagrid once I get the chance,” Sirius assured. “Think it’s been enough time that he’s no longer a fugitive.”
Harry snorted. “Even if he is, I have an in with the Minister,” he joked.
They apparated to the Pottery, and the gates opened automatically at Harry’s presence.
“So this is your house, is it?” Draco asked as they strode up the driveway, his brows raised.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot you haven’t been here before.” There had never been any need. “Yup, this is it. The Potter family home.” Our home, he didn’t say, though it was clear in the look he gave Draco.
The Slytherin looked up at the house, then nodded, a faint smile on his face. “It’ll do,” he said, and Harry’s heart stuttered.
Thankfully, the house elves had indeed managed to wrangle the four children into readiness. Amy and Tahan were crying already, heartbroken at the prospect of not seeing their big sister until Christmas. Even the excitement of finally moving in with Sirius and Charlie couldn’t cheer them up.
“Come on, loves,” Charlie soothed, letting them both hug his legs. “We’ll send everyone to school and then we’ll go home and you can decorate your new rooms, and then we’ll play a bit of quidditch, how’s that sound?”
Thanks to some very creative spellwork and a little nudging of the Wardstone, Sirius had turned the roof of Grimmauld Place into a garden, big enough at least for junior quidditch. Which had quickly become a favourite pasttime of the two children, so that finally stopped the sniffles.
“Everyone ready?” Sirius checked, doing a final headcount. While he was running through Nashira’s check list, Harry sidled over to his two house elves.
“Thank you, both, for everything. You’ve gone above and beyond, this last year.” Caring for so many people without a single peep of complaint. The world truly did not deserve house elves. “If there’s anything I can do to thank you…”
The two elves shared a look, unused to being thanked by their masters. “We is doing what we is asked to do, Master Harry,” Tinker said simply.
“It is nice having the house in use again,” Essie agreed, even if she looked quite like she would happily curl up to sleep for the next three weeks. “Is… will Master Harry be back?” Her eyes widened cautiously. Harry’s heart ached for them — they had been alone for so long, before he showed up.
“I’m spending Christmas with the Black family,” he said, watching the pair deflate slightly, “but after graduation Draco and I plan to move in here. Quidditch depending.” They had thought about getting a flat, like they had once dreamed of, but honestly with the number of houses between them and the amount of time they were likely to be out of the house, there seemed little point.
Both elves beamed at the news, bowing to Harry and then disappearing when he bid them goodbye.
They would probably enjoy the ten months of respite, after the year they’d had.
As the group began to walk out to apparate away, Harry jogged a little to catch up, just behind Frankie and Remus. He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but when he heard them talking…
“Severus and I are getting married,” Remus said, looking incredibly pleased by the concept. Frankie blinked, and his jaw set in that impassive Slytherin way of bottling up your emotions.
“Oh,” he replied. “…Are you going to have a baby soon, then?”
A cough spluttered out of Remus, his eyes widening. “I— well, we, ah— that’s a bit more of a complicated process with two men, you know. We— it’s something we’re certainly considering.”
“Oh,” Frankie said again.
“But,” Remus continued tentatively, “any theoretical future babies we do have… they could do with a big brother.”
Frankie’s jaw tightened further. “Harry’s doing well so far.”
Harry’s heart jolted happily.
“He is,” the werewolf agreed. “But we were also thinking that you seem rather good at it, yourself.”
Frankie’s only reaction was a sharp intake of breath, the slightest widening of his eyes, a half-step of hesitation.
“You’ve got the whole school year to decide,” Remus told him evenly. “And you can come talk to us whenever you like. You can spend Yule at the castle, or come spend it with Nash and the rest. And by summer, if you’d like, Severus and I can foster you.”
“Foster?” Frankie asked warily, eyes guarded. “Not adopt?”
Now Remus was the one looking a touch surprised.
“We didn’t know if you’d want adoption,” he admitted. “But we’d certainly like to.” An old hand at gently teasing emotions out of recalcitrant Slytherins, Remus patted him on the shoulder. “You don’t need to decide now. Think about it.”
As they reached the gates, Frankie was pensive and quiet.
“Hold on tight, kids,” Sirius warned, making sure each child was securely latched to an adult. He had Amy, and she scrunched her face up tight in preparation for the uncomfortable feeling of apparition.
Harry grinned, snagging Draco around the waist and reeling him in close. “Hold on tight,” he breathed into the blond’s ear, and then apparated them away.
They reappeared in the designated spot on Platform 9 & 3/4, and Draco glared lightly at him. Harry just kissed him on the nose — just in time for Charlie and Tahan to appear, and the little boy to groan loudly at the gesture. “You two are gross,” Tahan told them matter-of-factly.
With a laugh, Harry stepped out of the way of oncoming apparition, keeping his arms wrapped tight around Draco’s waist, kissing him sloppily on the cheek. “Yup,” he agreed proudly. “So gross.”
“Don’t you two ever stop?”
That was Ginny, her hair freshly shaved and a new earring in that had a little gold chain connecting the top piercing with the lobe piercing. She led the way for the rest of the Weasley/Granger contingency — the whole clan had come out to see their youngest off to Hogwarts, Hermione’s parents bringing up the rear.
“You lived with us for a month, you know we don’t,” Harry joked, mostly just to watch the scandalised blush cross Mrs Weasley’s face.
The platform was a riot of noise and colour and energy — a far cry from how it had been this time last year. Harry was buoyed just by being there, his melancholy finally making way for excitement.
All down the platform he saw his friends, saying goodbye to their families and saying hello to each other, as if they hadn’t all been drinking and dancing together not two nights ago to celebrate Amelia’s win. The Minister herself was there, hugging Susan like she didn’t ever want to let her go. When she did, it was to grab a surprised Theo in an equally tight hug, holding it until the Slytherin relaxed enough to put a tentative arm around her back.
Harry grinned to himself, turning back to his own farewell party. His own family.
They were all here, every single one of them. Well, except the Tonks contingency, but someone had to hold down the fort at the Ministry so that Amelia and Percy could be part of the Hogwarts run.
Normally Remus and Snape would have gone ahead to the castle, but both men wanted to be there to see Harry and Draco off for the last time. Plus, Snape wanted to fool the students into thinking that because he was at the platform, the curse of the Defence position had struck again and he would no longer be teaching them.
“Come on,” Sirius announced. “Let’s start the hugs now, or you’ll never make the train on time.” He held his arms open to Nashira, who jumped into them eagerly.
Harry started with Charlie, mock-grimacing when the redhead ruffled his hair affectionately. “Enjoy yourself, kid,” he said. “And slow down for once, yeah? Swear to Merlin you’re always going a thousand miles a minute, all the plates you’re spinning. Just… slow it down. Make the most of it. Trust me, you’ll regret it if you don’t.” He looked at the train a little wistfully, and Harry wondered if he had regrets about his time at Hogwarts. “Also, keep an eye on Nash for us.” Charlie’s dimples returned with his smile. “You’re a big brother now, don’t forget.”
As if Harry could, when his heart danced every time he thought of his new little siblings.
Snape didn’t do hugs, not in public, so from him Harry got a curt nod. Narcissa on the other hand absolutely did do hugs, and kissed him on both cheeks for good measure. “Look after each other,” was the only advice she gave him, smiling softly.
Remus hugged him too, even though they’d be seeing each other again in a few hours. “We’re so proud of you, cub,” he whispered, nuzzling Harry’s temple. “I’m glad I’ll be there in person to see you shine, your last year.”
That made Harry’s throat go tight, and he quickly distracted himself by heading over to the Weasley contingency to get mauled by Fred and Angelina all at once. George was too busy holding Blaise like he’d never see him again. “Make sure you leave a good team behind,” Angelina told him, eyes shining. “We have to keep this Gryffindor run going even after you’re out of there.”
Harry, who was fully planning on training an entire reserve team this year and then handing his captain’s badge to Ginny, promised her he’d make it happen.
Hugs from Bill and Fleur were brief but heartfelt, and finally George peeled himself off his boyfriend long enough to say goodbye to Harry. “Give ‘em hell, kid,” he said, grinning mischievously, slipping Merlin only knew what into Harry’s jacket pocket. “If you and Neville don’t use those powers of yours for mischief, we’re disowning both of you.”
“Good to know,” Harry said with a snort. He was sure the two of them and their shared ability to walk through walls would manage to come up with something or other, to pass the time. Keep McGonagall on her toes.
Percy preferred to send him off with a firm handshake and a reminder about the reading for the next Wizengamot meeting, which from Percy was practically a declaration of eternal kinship. Smoothly avoiding Mrs Weasley while she was busy fussing over Hermione, Harry stood before Mr Weasley, unsure.
“Oh, come here,” the man murmured, embracing Harry without hesitation. “I’ve told you before, you’ll always be one of my boys,” he promised. “Now be good, and study hard.” His eyes were twinkling when they parted.
“Yes, sir,” Harry chirped obediently, smiling.
Finally, he faced Sirius. There were no words between them, just a fierce, almost desperate hug. Harry refused to cry again that morning, so he held it in admirably, throat aching with the force of it. “You’ve come so far, kiddo,” Sirius whispered. “Just a little bit more to go.” His lips pressed to Harry’s cheek, and his eyes were suspiciously shiny when he loosened his grip. “If I don’t get a letter from McGonagall telling me you’re in trouble at least once per term, I’ll be very disappointed in you,” he mock-scolded, and Harry laughed, hugging him one last time.
“Up to no good, as always,” he assured. “Marauder’s honour.”
“That’s my boy!” Sirius squeezed his shoulders.
“I’ll see you at Yule, Dad.”
The animagus blinked rapidly, smile stretching across his face. “See you at Yule, son.” Then he paused. “But you’ve got the mirror if you need me. Or if you just want a chat. Save Hedwig for the rest of the family.”
“I’ll call once a week, at least, promise.”
Harry had to repeat that promise several times to the twins as they hugged his legs, and then it was onto the train with the warning whistle, steam already billowing from the chimney. Others were doing the same, calling their last goodbyes and hurrying onto the red steam engine, eager to find good compartments with their friends. Nashira and Frankie disappeared quickly, eager to find friends they hadn’t seen in over a year now.
Waving to his family one last time before the train rounded the corner, Harry squeezed Draco’s hand and turned away from the window.
“Here’s the real challenge,” Ginny declared, “trying to figure out how to fit all of us in the same bloody compartment.”
Harry looked around, snorting. Their group had certainly grown a bit. “We’ll figure something out,” he said confidently.
‘Figuring something out’ ended up being two compartments next to each other, crammed full to bursting with the occupants regularly hopping between the two. For the first time, Harry wasn’t spared the tedium of the Prefects’ meeting — he walked in beside Susan, their badges proudly pinned to their chest. Susan’s eye patch was yellow with the words ‘Head Girl’ in bold black letters, just in case someone didn’t get the memo.
Watching Hermione swallow her tongue at the sight of them was worth every second of the boring meeting.
With the new fifth year prefects assigned to train patrols, the seventh years and their one sixth year companion were free to return to their compartments. Harry made sure he was walking behind Sullivan, tapping the Ravenclaw on the shoulder.
“Hi, Harry!” they greeted cheerfully. “Ready for your last year?”
“Just about,” Harry replied, easily pushing down the reflexive wave of emotion. “Now I’ve got a question for you Sullivan Fawley,” he drawled softly, watching Sully’s eyebrow raise warily. Harry’s face became pure mischief. “Is Justin Finch-Fletchley as good a kisser as the rumour mill says?”
Sullivan paled dramatically, then went beet red. “What— no one was around, we checked!”
“What do you mean? You were right in the middle of everything!” The Ravenclaw’s gaze turned to panic.
“Wait. Which time are you talking about?” they asked, and Harry’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline.
“I meant at the wedding. How many times have there been?” he asked interestedly. Sully cursed under their breath.
“Enough,” they bit out succinctly.
“Enough to confirm the rumours?” Harry pressed salaciously. Sullivan let out a tiny ‘meep’, then anxiously tugged at their short ponytail.
“Maybe. Okay. Yes. There’s been many times. And— and hopefully will be many more times.” A beat, then they smirked, ever so slightly. “And if anything, the rumours were understating.”
Harry wolf-whistled quietly under his breath, clapping the Ravenclaw’s shoulder. “Get in, Sully,” he teased, earning a quiet groan.
“Don’t tell anyone?” they pleaded. “I— we’re still figuring things out.”
It sounded like they had plenty figured out, but Harry wasn’t going to butt his nose in, not that much.
“Secret’s safe with me,” he promised. Sully’s eyes flashed in relief.
By the time they reached the compartments, there was no sign of the conversation on either of their faces.
Harry hadn’t realised how many people in the lower years he was friends with, or his other friends were friends with, until they all started swinging by to say hello. Sure, it helped that they had Ginny and Luna and Sullivan with them, but plenty were there for other people.
A lot were HA members, who almost seemed disappointed that the end of the war meant no more need to train.
“We can still do a study group,” Harry assured everyone who asked. “But I know this year’s Defence professor, and honestly, you’re not going to need my help.”
When pressed further, he remained tight-lipped on the subject, even to his closest friends. He wasn’t going to spoil Remus’ fun.
Changing into their robes got a little awkward with so many of them shoved into a small space, but they managed it with magic. The seventh years all turned quiet after that, and their three sixth years did the same in sympathy.
“Cheer up,” Ginny said eventually, perched comfortably on Neville’s lap and looking around at all their solemn faces. “At least this time you can have a totally normal year at Hogwarts.”
They all looked at each other, and burst out laughing as one.
“What the fuck does that even look like?” Pansy exclaimed, shaking her head.
“I think you’re pushing your luck, there,” Hannah agreed. “We’ve still got the trouble-magnet over there, after all.”
“Hey!” Harry protested indignantly. “Not all of it has been my fault!”
“Just most of it,” Parvati piped up, quiet but managing a shaky smile. She and Lavender had disappeared for a while, taking some quiet time to mourn Padma on this final train journey, but now they were back and trying their best to keep their spirits up.
It would be hard, in so many different ways. But they’d manage.
When the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, none of them moved at first. Finally, Harry shifted from his position half-squishing Draco against the window, rising to his feet. “Let’s get going,” he declared, forcing a rakish grin. “McGonagall will kill us all if we’re late to the feast.”
That sparked them into motion, resizing their trunks for the elves to move and squeezing their way out of the train. As always, Hagrid towered over all of them with his lantern in hand, and he waved happily at Harry between his calls for first years. Susan and Harry hung back a while, making sure that all the students got off the train and into the carriages, that no poor firsties got left behind when Hagrid set off to the boats.
Stood patiently waiting for them by the last two carriages were Draco and Theo, along with Daphne, Ginny, Neville, Luna and Hannah.
Harry was torn, but he knew what he needed to do.
“Go with the others,” he told Draco, kissing him softly. “I need to do this with them.”
Draco, because he was the most wonderful person in the world, understood completely. “Come find me after the feast,” he requested, and Harry grinned.
“I can slip through the walls, my love,” he pointed out, “I can steal you away in the night.”
Draco’s eyes sparkled, and he couldn’t resist one more kiss. “I like the sound of that,” he agreed.
They parted ways; Draco heading with Theo and the three girls for one carriage, while Harry turned to his fellow heirs in the very last one. “Shall we?”
Hannah got situated first, levitating her wheelchair up and adjusting the carriage bench to suit. Then the other three piled in beside her. As the carriage began to roll, they joined hands, all four of them, waiting for the moment they crossed the wards.
They saw it before they felt it. Looming on the horizon, twinkling with the light from a hundred different windows, Hogwarts castle stood tall and proud and utterly unchanged by the world around it. Harry had worried it would hurt, looking at it after some time away, remembering all the death and destruction that had happened there. And it did, a little bit.
But it felt good, too. Wonderful things had happened to him at Hogwarts. Wonderful things had happened to everyone at Hogwarts, and would continue happening long after Harry was gone. Hogwarts would outlast them all, a refuge for young people, somewhere they could be at peace with the magic coursing through their blood.
All four of them shuddered at the same exact moment; passing through the wards felt like sinking into a warm bath, like greeting a long-time friend, like home.
They kept holding hands, all the way up to the castle.
“A normal year,” Neville murmured, seeming baffled by the very concept. “What does that look like?”
“I’ve got no clue,” Harry replied, meeting his best friend’s hazel eyes, feeling Luna press warm against his side, catching Hannah’s forever sunny smile. “But I’m sure as hell keen to find out.
As Draco had said; he could have more than one home.
And Hogwarts would always be one of them.