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— 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 —
@RONSLEFTFRECKLE | 2024

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‵ 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 ′
𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

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𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦!

This story contains mature and potentially triggering content, along with minor details you may not want in this fic, please read for your own discretion and enjoyment of the story!

𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦:

Graphic depictions of violence,
gore, and uses of strong language.

There will be sensitive topics
mentioned such as substance
abuse, homophobia,
internalized homophobia,
and mental health struggles.

Obviously, there will be spoilers
for both the Harry Potter books
and movies, as I will be using
references and plots from both
pieces of media.

That being said, there will also
be minor differences from the
canonical plot that I will twist
around and add onto.

The romance aspect will be very
slow burn. I am not planning for
Grant and Ron to officially get
together until later years. However,
there will be plenty of romantic
moments before then. It just will
take a while for them to actually
label themselves.

𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗦:

I do NOT own the Harry Potter
Universe, I only own Grant and
the scenes I have added in. All
rights go to JK Rowling. However,
I do NOT support her antics or
views in any way shape or form.

Chapter Text

October 31st, 1981. What had once been known as Josephine Hawthorne’s favorite night of the year would now forever be remembered as a nightmare.

The clock on the mantle ticked loudly in the eerie silence of Josephine Hawthorne’s living room, where the witch found herself staring aimlessly at the wall, trembling with shock and disbelief. The only provided light in the room came from the fire she had previously lit, which crackled softly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows against the surrounding walls of the room. She sat mere inches from it, yet felt no warmth. Her fingers traced absentmindedly over the stitching of the old quilt draped over her, catching the tears that continued to run silently down her face.

The scene only continued to replay in her head, despite her desperate efforts to stop them. The image of her twin brother’s lifeless body refused to leave her. Jason, her beloved Jason. The only minutes younger, stubborn, kind hearted boy she had spent her entire life loving and protecting was gone. Sweet Clara, his beloved wife, such a vibrant soul, was forever silenced by his side. And poor James and Lily. She can remember their bodies just as vividly as Jason and Clara’s. The horrible image of James sprawled out on the stairs, reaching for his wife while Lily’s wide, green eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, her wand still clutched in her hand. It was a massacre in a matter of minutes.

Only hours prior, Josephine had been picking fun and laughing with her brother and friends. Both the Hawthorne’s and Potter’s had resided in Godric’s Hollow once they had caught wind of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named targeting them– or rather, their sons. Josephine was delighted to be invited to their small Halloween get together. As much as she hated to admit it, it was hard to be separated from her brother for such a long period of time. They had seemed to spend every waking hour with each other for 17 long years. Once she and Jason had graduated and moved out, it was already a drastic change. Now, he was married with a son, taken into hiding as the first Wizarding War unfolded before their eyes.

Upon request of a very exhausted Clara, Josephine had been put on baby duty. Her nephew, Grant was growing quite fussy, obvious that his fatigue was catching up to him. Of course, Harry had been compliant in Lily’s first attempt of putting him to bed an hour ago, while Grant simply refused. Josephine complied with no hesitation, happy to take an attempt at putting the stubborn boy to sleep and take some stress off of her sister in law’s shoulders. It was only when she was halfway up the stairs when she heard the front door burst open, the house erupting in panicked screams. The sudden flash of green was enough to ignite something primal within her, and without thinking, she had apparated, clutching Grant tightly to her chest as they appeared in the safety of her own home.

She hadn’t even said goodbye. She didn’t even try to fight. It was eating her alive. The heavy burden of guilt gnawed at her insides as she sat, just waiting. As great a wizard as he was, Albus Dumbledore could only be in one place at a time, though he had assured the witch he would arrive as soon as possible. Still, the waiting felt unbearable. Every creak of the house, every rustle of the wind outside made her jump, her nerves frayed to the breaking point.
Her mind could not stop returning to remind her of the decision she had made. Running. Leaving all of them behind. Jason had always been the brave one, always the first into the fray. But of course, she had fled. It was only moments after, once Grant was safely secured in her home, that she had the courage to return to the Potter’s residence, met with the horrific sight, left completely helpless.

Josephine drew a shaky breath, burying her face in her hands. What would Jason have said? Would he forgive her? Or would he have wanted her to stay, to fight by his side until the end, just like she had always promised. They had all promised. Her mind began to wander towards their other friends, the three that completed their group of misfits, Sirius, Remus, and Peter. Oh, Merlin, they would all be so devastated.

Before she could continue to get lost in her own mind, a soft knock on the door broke the stillness of the house, causing the witch to jolt up, her heart pounding in her chest. Her wand was in her hand before she even realized she had grabbed it, rising shakily from the chair, hesitantly inching towards the door. It was only when a familiar voice spoke from the other side that she lowered her wand with a breath of relief.

“Josephine? It’s Albus. I apologize for the wait.”

She practically sprinted to the door, unlocking it before swinging it open to reveal Dumbledore, his expression grave and somber as she had ever seen it. His eyes, usually twinkling with quiet amusement, were dark, filled with the weight of all that had been lost in the night. Josephine steps aside to silently invite the man in, which he gratefully accepts. He moves quietly across the room, taking a seat in the chair opposite of the one she had sat in before. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, the only sound between them being the gentle crackling of the fireplace.

“I sense a great deal of guilt lies upon you,” Dumbledore says, finally breaking the heavy silence between them.

Josephine continued to sit in silence, her gaze lingering upon the blank wall once more. As active as her mind was, no words were able to rise from her lips. She was frozen in time, stuck with the image of her brother’s lifeless eyes haunting her.

“You did what you had to do, Josephine,” Dumbledore continues, his voice low. “You protected your nephew.”

“I left them,” she says abruptly, her voice breaking. “I left them behind.”

“There was nothing you could have done,” he quickly replies. “You saved Grant. There is no shame in that. He surely would not be here without you.”

Her throat tightened with his words, the memory of her brother’s screams echoing in her ears, “They’re all gone. Jason, Clara, James, Lily. And I just… I wasn’t there for them.”

“You were there for Grant,” he reminds her, offering a supporting hand on her shoulder. “And because of that, he is alive. You both are.”

Josephine pondered her next words, when the sudden memory of Harry finally came back to her. When she had returned, the boy was still alive, wailing in his cradle beside Lily. Her breath hitches, finally taking the initiative to meet Dumbledore’s eyes, “Harry– is he? How is that even possible? Voldemort was there for him.”

Dumbledore’s eyes darkened even further, his face lined with an exhaustion that seemed far deeper than the surface, “There are few certainties in the Wizarding World, Josephine, but what happened tonight was… remarkable. Harry Potter survived the Killing Curse.”

“How? That’s impossible–” Josephine’s breath was now caught in her throat.

Dumbledore shifted in his seat, leaning in closer towards the woman, as if the words were forbidden knowledge, “Lily Potter sacrificed herself for her son. She was the only thing standing between Voldemort and Harry. There is an ancient magic in that mind of love– magic that Voldemort neither respects nor understands. Her love shielded him, so that when Voldemort attempted to kill Harry, the curse rebounded, resulting in his own destruction instead”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the enormity of what Dumbledore had revealed. Josephine simply stared into the fireplace, processing the information as her hands ran absentmindedly through her hair.

“Voldemort is dead?” she simply asks, finally returning her gaze towards the wizard.

“His body is gone,” Dumbledore confirms. “But I do not believe him to be entirely gone. Voldemort has delved too deeply into the dark arts to be truly destroyed in a conventional sense. But for now, at least, his power has been broken.”

Josephine shakes her head in disbelief, sinking deeper into her armchair, massaging the bridge of her nose in an attempt to soothe her oncoming headache. “So what happens now? To Grant? To Harry?”

“I have already made arrangements for Harry’s protection, hence my late arrival. He will be placed with his aunt and uncle. It is our safest place for him. Away from our world, away from the dangers that will inevitably follow him.”

Josephine nodded, though the idea didn’t sit quite well with her. She knew of the Dursleys through Lily, and from what she had collected, they weren’t the most compassionate muggles. But, if Dumbledore believed it to be Harry’s best option, she had to trust him.
“And Grant? Will he be safe?”

Dumbledore’s expression softened. “Grant is safe here with you. As long as you are willing to take on that responsibility. I will do all in my power to ensure his safety, as well.”

Of course, Josephine accepted at once. If she could not protect her brother, it would be her lifelong duty to protect his son– her nephew. So, with swift farewells, the bearded wizard was gone, leaving the woman in the burdening silence once more.

Josephine pinched her eyes shut, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on her. The war, the losses, the uncertainty of what lay ahead. The war was not over, not yet, and it wouldn’t be for a long time. But for now, she had Grant. Harry was safe. And that was what she would cling to in the darkness of surviving.