Chapter Text
Harry was woken by a loud *whoosh* and something fluttering over his head.
“No, Errol, fuck Harry, I’m sorry, so sorry.” He was fully awake when Ginny tried to catch the owl and stumbled over his bed, hitting him in the knee.
“Oh fuck, sorry, I got him,” Harry pressed on his glasses, rubbing his knee with the other hand, and found Ginny smiling down on him.
“What the fuck, Ginny.”
“You know your godfathers have a terrible influence on your language,” the girl grinned, and then exclaimed: “Happy birthday, Harry.”
The birthday boy in question laughed. “Is this your way to wake me on my bloody birthday? Where is everyone?” He looked around, but Ron’s bed was deserted.
“Setting up your birthday surprise breakfast, of course,” she whistled. “Hermione just got here.”
“So you thought it would be a good idea to nearly kill me as part of it?”
Ginny sat down next to him, her hands buried into the feathers of the old owl.
“Noo…” she huffed. “I had Errol pick up your present to save on delivery, but the stubborn bird wanted to bring it to you himself, and I tried to intercept.”
Harry laughed, trying to shovel through the owl’s disarrayed feathers. “Poor boy,” he tooted.
A small package was tied to the bird's foot.
“May I?”
Getting presents for his birthday still seemed unreal to the young wizard.
“Sure thing.”
Harry loosened the package, eying Ginny. “You know you didn’t have to get me anything.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “I know that, but I wanted to.”
The package in hand, Harry thought about how weird it would have been to get a present from Ginny just a year ago. But something had changed between them. Maybe it was that they had bonded over the fact that Ginny had been kidnapped by his mortal enemy. But maybe it was something different.
He weighed the package in his hand, trying to find the right words before opening it. “I am glad we are friends and …”.
“And?” Ginny replied.
“... I didn't know if it would be weird - you know, being friends with a girl”.
Ginny looked at him in fake bewilderment: “... you are friends with Hermione!”
“Hermione is a girl?!” Harry replied in equally fake surprise.
“You know it’s different. I was worried that something would change, you know”, he hadn’t thought it through and now felt stupid for being insensitive.
“But thankfully, you are still a pain in the ass,” he concluded, bumping his fist into Ginny’s shoulder, “just a lot happier or something.”
“We all deserve happiness,” Ginny replied, pressing the present into Harry’s palm. “You should really go to see the mind healer Pomfrey made me see. I don’t know why nobody ever made you go, you are kind of fucked-up, Harry.” She smiled at him, and Harry groaned: “Sirius and Remus will def make me, they are such Dads.” Shocked by what he had just said he added hastily: “Don’t tell them I said that or Sirius’ eyes will get all watery and -.”
But he didn’t have to finish - Ginny already made a motion to zip her mouth shut, throwing the imaginary key behind her shoulder.
Harry’s finger dug into the parcel to occupy himself: “... thank you it's nice that you can be happy after everything that happened - makes me think I can be too.” Very self-conscious all of a sudden, he ripped open the box to reveal a bracelet with three ornaments on it - a stag, a dog and a wolf.
“You and Ron are not as discreet as you might think,” Ginny snickered. With that, she stood up: “Let’s go downstairs. Your dads are already here”. Harry still marveled over the bracelet - it fit perfectly.
Still, in his pajamas, Harry was immediately surrounded by the Weasley kids and Hermione. The latter was fresh off her plane from the Carribeans, her dark skin vibrating with the sun it had absorbed during her stay with her father's family.
The twins apparently had decided to make it Harry’s most embarrassing birthday yet. They forced a rubber chicken in his one hand, a raw egg in his other, blindfolded him, and spun him until he was so dizzy he just tried not to fall. All this to make him try to find the large table set in the freshly de-gnomed garden by yelling either “cold” when he was moving in the wrong direction or “hot” when he managed to find the right course.
10 minutes and several painful bumps later, Harry was happy to finally be seated. He took in the large table, around it all his favorite people singing Happy Birthday to him: the full set of Weasleys, Remus and Sirius, Oliver of course, and a blonde girl Harry recognized as Ginny’s friend Luna Lovegood. To his surprise, there was also Neville Longbottom, who seemed equally surprised to be invited and couldn't stop himself from beaming at Remus. Molly’s food was delicious as ever, but Harry noticed that Sirius and Remus had snuck in some Indian sweets as well as fruit salad (with melon balls).
There were presents of course: a small box of filibuster's fireworks from the Weasley boys (Sirius was almost as excited over them as Harry was), a small silver scissor for left-handed use by Arthur and Molly, who insisted it wasn’t too much since none of their kids was left-handed and therefore had no use for the heirloom anyways, a handwriting-perfecting quill from Hermione (“Honestly Harry, how do you think I can read over your homework if I can’t decipher it?”), a small, ugly plant in a hand-crafted ceramic pot from Neville he said to have a calming effect on light sleepers and a pair of brightly patterned mismatching socks from Luna - “it confuses the Nargles and keeps them away.”
Harry had kept Sirius and Remus present to open last. Peeling the wrapping paper away, he uncovered a small leather bag, and within he found a pair of leather goggles.
“We modified them to fit your prescription,” Remus explained.
“That’s genius,” Harry exhaled, moving to put them on. He turned the goggles around, almost forgetting to remove his glasses when something caught his eye: “J. F. Potter” was written in light ink on the leather straps.
“They were my dad’s?” his voice broke a little, his fingers tracing the faint lines. He could make out some soft “oohs” and “ahhs” coming from the other party guests.
“Found them when I went through some stuff in my parent’s cabin,” Remus explained: “thought you would like them.”
“I love them,” Harry managed to mutter, and Sirius moved to help him put them on. “You can actually press them on your face, and with a tap of your wand, they will fix themselves. Tap again to unbind”, Sirius demonstrated.
“Wicked,” Ron exhaled, as ever oblivious to the emotional depth of the present. He was the first to ask to try them on, but regretted it immediately: “Bloody, hell Harry, you ARE blind.” (interrupted by Molly warning him to watch his language).
Harry still couldn't believe it. Now he not only had his father’s invisibility cloak but also his Snitch and his quidditch goggles. And moreover, someone to actually talk about his parents with. His eyes were a bit watery as Harry left the table under the excuse to look at himself in the bathroom mirror.
“I swear if James could see you now, he would be so proud. You know that, right?” Sirius was leaning in the kitchen doorway when Harry made his way back.
Harry shrugged: “It’s kind of weird to miss someone you can’t remember to have met.” The words were out before he knew he had had the thought.
“Yeah,” Sirius exhaled, pressing his arm around Harry: “You will have to take my words for it. They would be very proud of you”. There wasn’t more he could say on that matter.
After the breakfast, the birthday party split up, with most Weasleys changing into their Quidditch gear. Sirius was preoccupied with Crookshaks happily purring in his arms. Remus, Neville, and Hermione were caught up in the first edition of “Hogwarts - A History” the ex-teacher had snuck into the party.
They played five-five, deciding not to track points but rather play 20-minute sessions. Needless to say, the first challenge was to draft the teams. Because it was Harry’s birthday, he was chosen to have the honor and came up with what he thought would be well-balanced teams. Thankfully Oliver had brought his brooms, and everyone was fitted alright. Bill, Harry, Fred, Ginny and Sirius in one team, Oliver, Charlie, George, Ron and Percy making up the other.
The rest of the birthday party took their seats at the Weasley’s makeshift stands, and Luna was already yelling at Ginny to “Kick their asses, girl.”
Sirius hadn’t used a broom in 13 years, but as soon as his feet left the ground, he felt the vibrant energy that only came with flying. A feeling of home and friendship.
As Harry had anticipated, Percy wasn’t the best Chaser. Still, he hadn’t reckoned that Sirius was absolutely reckless, chasing the Bludgers and striking them towards the opposite team. Thankfully Bill had corrected the magic of the training Bludgers to just gently tap the players; otherwise, Ron would have ended up with another bloody nose.
What Sirius hadn’t expected was that he had to stop himself several times from yelling after James. Because it wasn’t James, was it. It was just that in this scenario, Harry even more so reminded him of his best friend he had played Quidditch throughout all of his adolescence. He found Remus’ eyes, and he knew that his partner was thinking the same.
After three games, they settled for more cake, the twins all over Sirius, pressing him to talk Beater tactics.
Harry turned to Remus: “I didn’t know Sirius was a Beater for Gryffindor.” A shadow moved over the werewolves features: “He was left off the team in 6th year”, his eyes scanning over Sirius happily chatting away.
“Really, why?” Harry didn’t seem to notice his sudden change in demeanor.
“He took a prank too far, and Minnie - ahm... McGonagall took him off the team.”
Harry seemed happy with the answer and focused his attention on Oliver Wood, who was in the middle of his usual monologues about the Quidditch house cup.
There was so much, Remus thought to himself, so much Harry didn't know. Yeah, funny stories that could be told over fruit salad and tea, but what about all those things that could dim the light of his dead parents and, he had to confess, on his new guardians. When would be the right time to talk about them? About how friendship sometimes meant betrayal and love sometimes meant being vulnerable.
Remus hadn’t realized that Sirius had moved behind him, wrapping his sweaty arms around his shoulder: “A penny for your thoughts?”
Well, no matter what, a birthday celebration wasn’t the right time to bring up old stories that were washed in hurt.
He kissed his boyfriend's fingers and let out a small huff: “Too much chocolate cake.” There was no way Sirius was buying it, but he, too, felt that today was too good a day to catch a little white lie.
“He should be here any minute now,” Sirius whispered into his ear instead.
Molly and Arthur had been informed to expect another visitor for Harry’s birthday. But their shock was genuine when the magic doorbell announced someone was about to apparate in their garden, and it turned out to be Alastor Moody.
“Mad-Eye?” Arthur was on his feet, greeting the old friend.
“Arthur! We have to have a healthy discussion over privacy on personal data, my old friend”, Moody yelled, followed by his barking laughter.
Everyone else had stiffened in their seats to watch them exchange the inevitable security question. Having both answered to their mutual satisfaction, Moody crossed the lawn to first greet Molly, Sirius, and Remus and then make his way around the table as if on an interrogation mission.
“And who do we have here?”
“Hermione Granger, Mister Mad-Eye was it?”
A burst of barking laughter met Hermione's question: “Feisty, I like this one, Mr. Alastor Moody at your Service, Head Auror.”
Hermione's eyes widened, and she grabbed the man’s hand, enclosing it in a firm handshake: “I have so many questions for you-”
But Moody had already moved on.
He made his round, exchanging pleasantries with Charlie and Bill, who he seemed to have met before and weirdly enough hugging Neville, who didn’t seem to find his familiar exchange with the Head Auror unusual at all. Luna received a courteous hand kiss, accompanied by the comment that he had received her father's paper on the history of lindworm sightings in the northern swamps.
“And last but not least: Harry fucking Potter, the Boy who lived.”
Of course, Harry knew how people talked about him behind his back, but to hear the man call him that so blatantly to his face was something else.
“Just Harry is fine,” he replied, lazily shaking the Auros’s hand.
“I like this one,” Moody yelled over to Sirius and Remus, both of them trying to hide their laughter at the exchange.
“Ready, boys?”
Harry didn't know what was going on but followed through when Remus told him to change. “We can be back to use those fireworks, but there is another surprise waiting for you,” Sirius sing-sang nonchalantly, sipping on a glass of sparkling wine.
Moody was waiting for them with a Portkey set up behind the Weasley’s fence. The old beer can look unsuspicious enough, and if Remus hadn’t just explained how Portkeys worked, Harry would have walked past it.
Equal to side-to-side apparition, traveling by Portkey was something Harry was not eager to do again. Why did all the magical transport methods have to involve the feeling of being folded into nothingness and spit about again, with his stomach turned upwards?
Sirius pulled his godson from the ground, and Harry found himself in an empty backstreet.
“Are you telling me where we are going?” Harry felt excitement bubbling up in him.
The four of them were walking towards a townhouse in what Harry realized must be London, and Sirius still hadn’t answered. Moody pressed his wand to the heavy bronze doorknob, and the blue entrance door swung open.
“Remember when we talked about living together, and Remus let something slip about your father's flat?” Sirius’ eyes sparkled, and Harry swallowed down another wave of excitement. He just managed to nod solemnly.
Moody’s wooden leg made climbing the second floor painfully slow, and Harry felt like a rubber ball bouncing behind him.
“Easy there, Prongslet,” Remus rested his hand on Harry’s shoulders to calm him down and stabilize his own limping steps. “We will def’ get an apparition spot on the second level,” he exhaled.
The party stopped in front of an unimpressive wooden door. With a wave of his wand, Moody unveiled magic tape sticking to the door and a set of runes next to it. Harry couldn’t make out the spells he was performing - no surprise there he was still a teenager after all - but it seemed that the Auror was puzzling together a code. One minute later, the magic tape unstuck. Patting his leather coat, Moody retrieved a key from one of his pockets. He stretched out his arm to hand it to Sirius, who in turn passed it to Harry.
Taking a deep breath, Harry took a step towards the door. He almost wished that there would be some kind of magic reaching out to him, but there wasn't. It was just a door, after all. The key slid into the keyhole, and with one turn, the door was open.
As Harry was standing there like he had grown roots, Sirius gave him a little shove and entered the flat after him. There was the wooden floorboard that had creaked ever since the Marauders had first moved into the flat - it still did.
Sirius could also still remember moving out of the flat. Remus and him moving together, and James and Lily giving it up for the sake of safety.
Like in a trance, Harry moved from the small entrance hall to the room across, passing two doors as he did so. The open kitchen to his left, the living room area was filled with the light coming through the french windows that opened up to the street underneath them.
There was no sound coming in from the street, and the bare white walls almost reflected the sun. Harry turned to look at his godfathers, their faces equally marveled.
“It’s so clean and quiet,” was all that Harry could muster to say.
Sirius pointed his wand in the air: “Finite Quietus.” The sound of the street was suddenly buzzing in their ears. “I didn't think it would hold up for so long,” he shrugged his shoulders, remembering to have used the spell before Harry was born to make the flat what Lily had called “baby-fit.”
“The self-cleaning spell must still be active, too,” Remus added, raising his wand. But Sirius was at his side, grabbing the other’s wand before he could muster the counter-magic.
“Wait, don’t.”
Remus lowered his arm and looked at his boyfriend, questioning.
“It was Alice’s spell.”
The heavy meaning in the sentence was something even Harry couldn’t miss, and he left the room to give his godfathers some privacy.
Behind the kitchen, there was a narrow hallway leading to three separate bedrooms, two of them big enough to host a double bed and a small one. Harry hadn’t even noticed, but he was looking for something, looking out for a clue of the former inhabitants - of his parents -living here.
In one of the bedrooms, there was a big stain on the wooden floors that had resisted all attempts to magic it away, but nothing else.
Harry sighed. He was happy to be here. Glad to have this place. Finally, a home. Finally, a place to share with people who actually cared about him. Not a school, not a dorm - a home.
But maybe, he had wished to find something else here: traces of his parents. He reached into his jeans pocket to release the Snitch, the flutter calming his disappointment a bit.
“Harry come here!” Sirius’ yell came from the entrance hall.
Trying to hide his disappointment, Harry set up his best smile.
“What is it?”, he turned the corner to see Remus and Sirius smiling at him. “Look,” Sirius pointed to the door frame of the bathroom.
Harry first couldn't make out what he was pointing at in the dim light, and stepped closer.
Standing out from the white paint of the frame, there were notches, and next to it, someone had magically carved names into the wood.
The top notch said MOONY, spelled with hearts instead of the o’s.
The second notch read PRONGS, but someone had added TOERAG to it in a different font.
Slightly beneath it, PADFOOT and what seemed to be a bad attempt at doing an Anarchy A.
And finally, LILY.
“Whoa,” Harry traced the carving with his fingers.
“But the best part-” Sirius pulled Harry down with him to level with another carving, barely 2 inches above the ground. HARRY it read and next to it: July 31st, 1980.
Sirius’ reassuring hand found Harry’s shoulder: “Wanna update that information, Pup?”
A minute later, a new notch was added, just a bit above his mother's name, accompanied by today’s date.
It wasn’t much. But somehow, it was home.