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Chapter Text

Harry Potter and Soulspark, the blue phoenix animagus that Harry is sure wants to kidnap him-

Actually, he kind of has, hasn’t he?

The past two breaks Harry has left the castle for, he went to Souls’ childhood house, 12 Grimmauld Place. They had cleaned it up and made it a home. Most of the base work was done over the winter break, with Harry and Souls in his human form of Regulus. During spring break, one of Harry’s significant others' helped with more of the design work. Draco Malfoy had been cast out by his family and most of the Slytherins for dating two male Gryffindors, so Harry and Souls had offered to house him.

None of them wanted to leave, and Harry even less so when he got back to the castle after the spring holidays. Dumbledore had confronted Harry about where he’d been and Harry had… 

Well, he was pretty sure he’d terrified the Headmaster.

He had told Dumbledore that he knew he was a Horcrux and was raised to be a sacrificial lamb. Dumb-dumb had brought up the blood wards and Harry told him to fuck off. He said he would still die for him, but that he got to choose how his life went before then. 

He left Dumbledore speechless.

After that talk, random sweets started showing up hidden in his things (he always tossed them), various wing and phoeni care guides and products were left on his bed (Souls convinced him to keep them. Harry was not pleased), and the teachers gave him extensions on projects and homework when he didn’t need it.

The only ones who treated him normally were professors Artie, Esmé, Lupin, and Snape. Along with assistant professor Siri.

Harry was grateful to all of them. 

Which was a weird thought to have toward Snape.

Harry knew Esmé and Artie were Lily and James Potter, and that Lupin and Siri were their best friends, Remus and Sirius. Sirius had been found innocent for the rat’s crimes, so he was allowed to help Lupin in his Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

The other houses, and even some of the other Gryffindors, started to glare at Harry for the special treatment he did not ask for and despised.

Ron Weasley, Harry’s other boyfriend, was great at calming him. He played quidditch with him whenever possible and kept him distracted with games and treats and predicting what prank his older siblings, the twins Fred and George, would pull next.

The end of the year was approaching quickly and Harry was so excited to go back home.

“Morning, Harry!” Fred called the morning before they were set to leave, as he and George made their way down the table to Harry’s group.

“Morning, everyone!” George ruffled Ron’s hair when he reached them.

“We were wondering-” Fred began, letting George continue.

“If you would like-”

“To have a-”

“Gift!” They finished together.

“Is it anything like your last gift?” Harry asked, excited but suspicious. The Weasley twins were always causing mischief and normally their gifts came with some catch. Their last one to Harry, however…

That was amazing!

It was a map of the school grounds that showed where any given person was at any given time. Souls had told him that the Marauders Map had been created by his dad and his friends.

Harry had never lost track of it.

“Absolutly!” George said.

“Not at all!” Fred spoke at the same time.

“Don’t trust them Haz,” Ron grumbled. “They’re always up to something.”

“But, isn’t that the fun of it?” Souls looked at Harry expecentally.

“Alright,” Harry said warily. “But what-?”

“These,” Fred leaned down to whisper in the ear Souls wasn’t perched next to. George started to bully Ron and the others to keep them away and that kind of set off alarm bells in Harry’s head. Fred pulled out a large brown paper bag from fuck knew where and held it in front of the teen. “Are paints.”

Harry nodded slowly, curious as to where this was going.

“See,” he continued while his twin kept the others distracted. “The grape vine has some interesting stories.”

Harry tensed.

“Like what?” He whispered.

“Like,” Fred dropped his voice lower somehow. “You remodeling a certain… Let’s say… Noble and Most Ancient House?” 

“And?” Harry asked, tone clipped. He would fight Fred and George to keep that secret. Harry didn’t have access to the house without Reg and no one they didn’t trust could know who Souls was.

Souls seemed more amused than anything, which Harry did take some comfort in.

“Relax,” Fed laughed. “These are to help you add a bit of color! They- Well, you’ll see. There’s no damage involved,” he reassured Harry after seeing the look on his face.

“Fine. I don’t know why, but I trust you,” Harry snatched the bag and put it by his feet.

“Good, good!” Fred stood back up, then called to George. “Let us go, brother! Our brothers-in-law have a busy summer ahead and will need rest!”

“Bye!” George waved, both of the twins ignoring Ron’s ‘hey!’

“‘Brothers-in-law? ’” Draco teased Ron, who went bright red.

“Well- I just- I- I didn’t-” Ron groaned and stuffed his head into his hands.

They all laughed. Harry got yelled at for trying to comfort him while laughing. Which, of course, only made him laugh harder. Harry kept a fairly close eye on the bag until he brought it up to his dorm.

Then, forgot about it while messing around with his friends.

He didn’t get a chance to look at the labels until that night.

‘Tabitha’s Paint for Roaming Murals.’

Harry let a wild grin stretch over his face.

Oh, this will be fun! He thought, already getting out a piece of parchment to sketch what he wanted to paint and where.

Chapter Text

When Souls, Draco and Harry stepped into Grimmalud again for the summer break, and closed the door behind them, Harry heard all of them let out a collective sigh. 

The train ride to King’s Cross Station was… Eventful, to say the least. 

They were held up on the tracks for an hour at Hogsmeade because the train was malfunctioning. And during that time, some of the first years had decided it would be a good idea to sprint up and down the hallways outside the compartments. They held a whole tournament before the older students figured out what was happening.

They got a lecture from the head boys and girls as to why that wasn’t okay. By the time they were all finished with that, the train had started to move. Harry had fallen asleep an hour into the ride, comfortably resting on his boyfriends, but was jolted awake by some second years.

They mistook Harry’s compartment for their own and had entered practically screaming about a joke. Apologies were given and the rest of the ride was fine.

Harry knew they were all glad to be back, though.

“What… Now?” Draco asked, bringing Harry and Reg their Dragon Flare teas and grabbing his own chamomile mint tea. Both teens had chosen to settle on either side of Reg, with Reg’s arm over the backrest on Draco’s side.

“What do you mean?” Reg sighed happily with his first sip.

“Well, we are done with the house, are we not? So, what now?”

“I’m sure the garden needs fixing already, and I want to paint that mural but-” Draco cut Harry off.

“Mural?” Draco tilted his head a bit, leaning forward to look at Harry.

“Yeah!” Harry copied the movement. “Fred and Geroge gave me a bunch of ‘roaming mural’ paints! They somehow figured out what we were doing and now I get to paint the walls!”

“Huh,” Draco responded, settling back into the couch. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”

“Well, yeah. My Aunt and Uncle always hated them. And Dudley would either rip them apart or tell Vernon to burn them. I never stopped though, just got better at hiding or destroying them myself,” Harry shrugged.

“Should have let me sink my talons into their flesh at least once,” Reg growled into his tea.

“Nope. I can’t do that to your guardians, so you can’t do it to mine!” Harry sang, kicking his feet slightly over the carpet.

“Mine are dead, chick!” Reg threw his head back against the couch. “That’s not fair!”

“Oh no!” Harry mocked. “My awful-fucking-sorry-excuse-of-human-being parents are dead! Whatever will I do!” He pressed his wrist to his forehead and shifted to lean his back against Reg’s side.

“You are so fucking lucky I’m not done with my tea.”

“Who says that’s luck?” Harry gave him a mischievous grin.

“Brat.”

“Your brat.”

“What?” Reg almost choked on his tea.

“I’m your kid, so-”

“No, nope, not going there!” Harry’s kind-of-but-not-really-very-much-father slapped a hand over his mouth before Harry could finish. He tried to say ‘rude,’ but it came out mumbled. Then he tried to lick Reg’s hand, which earned him a growl. Then he tried to squirm away. 

When that failed, he looked to Draco for help. 

“Not happening,” Draco said smugly. Harry’s face fell. Betrayal! Of the highest order! How dare he!? “You got into this mess, clean it up.”

He leaned back on the couch armrest watching in amusement as Harry tried, in vain, to get his voice back. Reg and Draco struck up a conversation about constellations and whether or not they would keep the tradition.

Reg let go when his tea was finished and Harry’s had long since gone cold. He still drank it, but it wasn’t nearly as enjoyable.

The garden took a week to fix up. The wildlife had wrecked it completely and they needed to replace most of the boxes and all of the vegetables and flowers. There were a few days that were very much too hot to do anything outside, so they worked on refining Harry’s plan for the mural.

As soon as they were done with the garden, they started on the painting. 

They quickly learned a few things:

1. The paintings only came alive when they were finished with them.
2. They could be erased if wanted, but that took a lot of soap and water.
3. They very much had a mind of their own.

Harry had decided to paint his family’s animagus forms. And apparently, Padfoot (Sirius’s black hound form) and Spottedhide (Ron’s hyena form) hated each other. The wolf, Lune, had to keep breaking up their fights and no matter how Harry tried to get them to just stop bloody fighting, it never worked.

Fireflight (Harry’s smaller phoenix form) and Soulspark mostly stayed to the tops of the walls and ceilings. They were never apart, much like their real counter-parts. Spitfire (Lily’s red fox form) and Snowfur (Draco’s arctic fox form) were also really close. However, Harry would really appreciate it if they could stop riling and setting up Spottedhide and Padfoot.

Prongs (James’s stag form) and Lune were the only two to try and stop the hyena and hound from ripping them, and the walls, apart.

Harry loved them for it.

Two weeks into their summer holiday, Harry, Draco and Reg had slipped into their old routines. Draco made morning tea, Harry and Reg made breakfast, Reg made lunch and Harry made dinner. They made dessert together sometimes, and that was always fun. The kitchen would be covered in various ingredients and they would almost pass out laughing.

Harry knew this would all end when the fall semester rolled around, but he still had a long way to go until then. 

Or so he thought.

When Harry woke up in the morning, at the start of their third week there, he felt… Off. He didn’t know how to describe it but he told Reg anyway.

“Off? How off?” He asked, folding some of their clothes while Harry sprawled out on the bed.

“I don’t know,” Harry groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Just like something will go wrong.”

“Alright, let’s stay together today then. Did that help?” Reg sat on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah… It did! Thank you!” Harry jumped up and started tugging Reg downstairs.

“Okay, okay! Calm down, sparrow!” Reg laughed.

Harry ignored him.

“Hi!” Harry brightly greeted Draco, who was rummaging through the kitchen for something. Harry sat down at the kitchen island and did not let go of Reg.

“Hello,” Draco chuckled. “Hello to you as well,” he nodded at Reg.

“Morning,” Reg yawned, standing behind Harry and wrapping his arms over Harry’s chest. He rested his head in Harry’s curls. “Harry feels off so we’re going to stay together for today, alright?”

“Sounds good- Oh for the love of- Where did it go!?”

“What are you looking for, puffin?” Reg asked, tilting his head curiously.

“My- Fucks sake, finally!” Draco pulled up his box of tea bags from one of the lower cabinets. “I knew it was- Wait, ‘puffin?’” He turned to Reg.

“Yeah, more of a cold water bird.”

“Okay…? But why call me a puffin?” 

“Arctic fox, cold water bird; it makes sense.”

“I see your point, but why a bird at all?”

“Phoenix,” he said, pointing to himself.

“I don’t think you’ll get much further than that,” Harry snickered after Draco just stared at Reg like the answers would just… Make sense.

“Right, forget I asked,” Draco sighed.

After their teas were ready, they moved over toward their normal couch. This one faced directly away from the door and Harry was always a little uncomfortable about it, but he always thought he was being silly.

They ended up, after finishing their teas, with Reg laying on his back on the couch, and Harry and Draco cuddled up on either side of him. Somehow a heated argument started. What about? Whether cleaning the muggle way or the wizard way was better, of course!

Because of this, none of them were paying as much attention to their surroundings as they should have been.

None of them heard the door open.

None of them heard the footsteps.

And none of them noticed the eleven other people who had entered the house, wands ready.

They did, however, notice the door slam closed.

“Regulus? ” Professor Siri whispered in disbelief.

Harry, Draco and Reg froze. 

Then slowly sat up and turned to face the door.

There stood Siri, Artie, Esmé, Lupin, Arthur and Molly Weasley, and Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny Weasley.

“Oh, we are so fucked,” Reg groaned quietly. But, in the pin-drop silence of the room, he may as well have shouted it.

Chapter Text

“What the hell!?” Siri shouted, obviously pissed the fuck off and started to stalk toward them.

The Weasleys were frozen, watching as if this was a train wreck they couldn’t look away from.

“Siri-” Artie started.

“No! What the fuck, Regulus!? How the hell are you alive!? Why are you here!?” He kept shouting. Kept approaching. Kept his wand pointed. At Reg. At Draco.

“Sirius!” Lupin said warningly.

But Sirius didn’t listen. He wouldn’t back down.

And Harry was struggling to keep his instincts to protect his flock in check. It felt like all of the training for this exact scenario he did with Lupin and Artie was for nothing.

Then, Harry heard a growl and wasn’t entirely sure where it came from. All he could see was Siri, with his anger and wand… He was a threat.

And Fireflight would not let his family get hurt again.

His muscles tensed and he launched himself over the edge of the couch, aiming for the threat.

But something held him back and they both tumbled to the floor.

He was flipped from his stomach to his back. He hissed up at whatever was on him, trying to claw it off so he could protect.

Whatever it was, hissed back.

He felt his wings come out and pound uselessly against the floor, a different pair keeping his own down.

He screeched and bit and scratched, satisfied when he felt skin rip under his talons. He shrieked when his claw was bit and he was thrown onto his stomach again.

A body covered his, a claw at the back of his neck, one between his shoulder blade, and wings pressing on his own. The only thing he could still move was his tail, which lashed violently behind him.

He stayed there, growling and hissing and screeching for who knows how long before things started to drift back into focus.

First were the whispered words.

‘You’re okay,’ ‘everyone is fine,’ and ‘you’re safe,’ repeated over and over again.

Next was the wet, sticky feeling dripping down his arm. It was warm at first, but quickly turned cold, then got warm again when a new wave covered him. 

Blood, his mind supplied oh, so helpfully.

He thrashed again, testing the waters. 

The body above his held strong.

The last thing to come back was his sight.

He saw the floor first, but what shocked him back to reality wasn’t anything about the floor. It was what was on it that made Harry gasp and struggle to turn around, wanting to check on his father.

Right beside his face lay a feather, covered in blood, with only a little of the color showing through.

The color of the feather?

Blue.

“Reg,” Harry gasped, his voice sounding wrong again. Like it was when Harry had almost attacked Hermione for jokingly flirting with Draco. “Reg!” He tried again, voice breaking as he held back tears. His wings flapped anxiously beside him.

“Hey,” Reg said softly, but even Harry could tell he was in pain.

“Reg I’m-” Harry broke off to sob.

“Hey, hey, no, it’s alright!” Reg let go of Harry and laid down on his back next to him. Harry immediately launched onto him, clutching his shirt and sobbing apologies.

Reg let him for a bit, only holding him as he cried. He started talking again when Harry had calmed down significantly.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, Siri was being loud and scary,” Harry whispered, hoping only Reg could hear him.

“Yup, good. Anything after that?” Reg carded his fingers through Harry’s hair, making him melt a bit.

“Just… fighting,” Harry said, but continued frantically sitting up to look at Reg. “But I didn’t know it was you, I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to hurt anyone ! I-”

“Harry,” Reg laughed. “It’s okay! I will be fine! It’s already healing, see?” And he held up his arm for Harry. There were four fairly deep slashes across Reg’s cheek and forearm. They would probably scar, even with their healing. Harry winced and almost started crying again, even if they were closing up before Harry’s eyes. “I did get you back,” he smiled pointing to Harry’s forearm.

There was a bite mark on his arm that looked like it had been torn from the mouth of whatever was holding it, creating angry red bite… lines?

Harry didn’t know or care.

“I’m so sorr-” He started.

“Don’t be, you were protecting your flock, Sirius got warnings and ignored them. All things considered, you did good.”

Harry nodded. Reg sighed fondly.

“Want to see the others?” Reg asked kindly. 

Harry nodded again. Then paused.

“My wings…?” He asked, looking back at the clipped feathers. They were almost fully healed, but it was still obvious what happened.

“They know, chick,” Reg looked sad and guilty. “I’m sorry.”

Harry shook his head, smiling a bit.

“At least I got to be dramatic about it!” He laughed. Reg joined him and together, they got off the floor and went past the kitchen and into the drawing room.

“Hey,” Reg called just outside the door. “We calm, now?”

“Yes,” Artie sighed. “You can come in.”

When they entered, Harry expected to see Draco or any of the other teens, but there were only adults. Just Molly Weasley, Artie, Esmé, Sirius and Lupin. Artie gave them a strained smile from his place at the table, to the right of Esmé. Molly was on the other side of the table, with her back to them. She didn’t look at him. Harry felt that sting more than he thought he would. 

Molly was Harry’s first healthy mother figure. She’d loved him like her own kids, and to see her not even looking at Harry hurt like hell.

Sirius was on a couch in the back of the room. He looked considerably more calm and even a bit guilty. Lupin was also at the table, next to Artie, with his head in his hands. He gave them a wave without looking up when they came in.

“Where…?” Harry trailed off.

“Upstairs with Mr. Weasley,” Reg answered.

“Why-?” Sirius started.

“You lost your speaking privileges, remember?” Lupin cut him off, shooting his head up to glare. If looks could kill, Lupin would’ve been arrested for murder.

Sirius shut his mouth, but kept his eyes on Harry and Reg.

Harry felt his wings twitch under the gaze and-

His wings.

“Fuck,” he whispered, disappearing them quickly. Reg smiled comfortingly and placed a hand on Harry’s back.

“Even if Siri can’t talk,” Esmé spoke calmly. “We still need some answers.”

Harry looked at Reg and he hesitated, but nodded. So Harry sat at the table in the middle of the room, Reg settled protectively behind him, hands on the teens shoulders. Harry could tell he was uncomfortable, but he was grateful for the comfort his father was giving him.

“Right,” Artie said. “Let’s start, hopefully easy. Why did you become an animagus?” He looked at Harry.

“Oh, uh…” Harry wasn’t fully certain how to answer that so he looked up to Reg.

“Give it your best shot,” Reg smiled softly. “I’ll fill in the gaps when you’re done.”

Harry nodded and looked back at Artie, Esmé, and Lupin.

“I’m not really sure to be completely honest, but I… I had a nightmare in… Second- No, first year, because you’d just finished with the French lessons,” Harry glanced at Reg again, then back down. “Anyway, nightmare. It freaked me out so much that when I woke up, I was in my animagus form. Which freaked me out more and Reg had to calm me down, but, yeah… That’s what I remember.”

“You… Transformed without the potion?” Lupin looked like his entire world view had shifted.

“He’d be able to. If he was bonded to someone who had already taken it,” Artie said, staring at Reg. The other phoenix animagus flinched.

“It was an accident,” Reg whispered.

“How?” Sirius seemed genuinely confused and curious, but at the glare from all of the adults, he snapped his mouth shut again.

“I became an animagus because I wanted to be like you,” Reg looked at Sirius, then laughed sadly. “Harry… He needed someone to be there for him and… By the time I realized we were bonding, it was too late.” 

Reg tightened his hands on Harry’s shoulders. Harry brought a hand up to cover his in a gesture he thought would be comforting.

Reg took a deep breath and squeezed his shoulder.

“What does it mean to be bonded?” Esmé asked Artie quietly.

“It means that they’re really close. They can share memories and just understand the other better than anyone,” Artie answered.

“Is that-? Oh,” Harry thought back to all the nightmares and times when Harry felt he just knew what Reg needed. To what Reg refused to tell him. To the only thing Reg refused to tell him.

“I didn’t-” Reg began.

“I’m not mad,” Harry told him. “Actually, thank you,” he continued when Reg looked confused. “You probably saved my life, if I’m honest. I don’t know how much longer I would have survived there!” He laughed.

“I don’t know how you survived at all,” Reg let out a small laugh.

“Same goes for you!”

“Survived…?” Esmé whispered. “Wait, you’re not-? Oh great Merlin,” she gasped.

“What just happened?” Molly spoke for the first time since they entered. She was actually looking at Harry now, which was a great relief to the teen.

“Dumbledore said he was living with relatives,” Esmé stared at Artie.

Who looked just as confused as everyone else.

“Holy- How did I fall for you again? ” She whispered, then continued louder, “he doesn’t have any relatives besides… Mine.”

Harry flinched when all four of his professors snapped their heads toward him.

“Uh… Well… Yes?” Harry raised his shoulders, not sure where this was really going.

“So your…” Esmé gestured to him but trailed off.

“My wings?” Harry confirmed. “Yeah… They found out I wasn’t supposed to be an animagus and forced me to let them clip the feathers.”

“How did you survive?” Artie asked, smiling.

“No idea,” Harry laughed when Artie did.

“How did you know who Esmé’s relatives are? How much did you tell him?” Lupin asked Harry, then Reg.

“I never thought I’d see any of you again, so as much as I possibly could,” Reg glared when Lupin looked annoyed. “I thought Sirius was in Azkaban, you had disappeared,” he pointed at Remus, “and James and Lily had died. I couldn’t even visit their graves unless I wanted the Death Eaters to find me!”

“They have graves?” Harry whispered under his breath.

“Yes?” Reg panted. “Of course they have graves, chick, they died. I’m pretty sure I have a grave.”

“Oh.”

“Ha!” Artie shouted, pointing a finger at Reg, grinning. He didn’t even shrink when Esmé slapped his arm down.

“What?” Reg sounded so done and Harry could not blame him.

“I get to call him fawn! Can I call you fawn!? Please let me call you fawn!” Artie bounced in his seat.

“Sure?” Harry laughed, confused.

“Lils said I couldn’t because she didn’t know if it was okay and she wouldn’t let me ask!”

“And what made you think you could now?” Lily sighed.

“Reg called him ‘chick,’” Harry’s dad pouted.

“Yeah, but they’re bonded,” Siri said, apparently having gotten his speaking rights back.

“So!? I’m his father!”

“No, you’re not,” Harry didn’t miss a beat. He quickly explained when James’s face fell. He looked crushed. “Reg’s my father, you’re my dad.”

Harry relaxed a bit when James collapsed onto the table and whispered, ‘thank fuck.’

“Holy shit- We are not doing this right now,” Reg slapped a hand to his forehead.

“We absolutely are!” Harry smiled up at him. “This is the perfect time!”

“What?” Sirius asked flatly.

“I am not your father!” Reg glared at the ceiling, dragging the hand down his face.

“And what makes you say that?” Lily smiled wickedly.

“Yes!” Harry pumped a fist in the air, careful not to hit Reg.

“No!” Reg shouted at the same time, staring, betrayed, at Lily.

“Why would Reg be-?” Sirius started then stopped himself. “You!” He pointed an accusatory finger at James.

James threw his hands up in surrender and laughed nervously. Sirius looked like he wanted to fight, but kept seated. Barely.

“You- You- You-!”

“Got any other words in that small brain of yours?” Lily grinned.

“I think we’ve gotten off track,” Molly said and everyone quieted. “So you’re bonded, Harry is an animagus, by accident, and in an abusive situation, and Reg is Harry’s father?”

“I was in an… abusive situation,” Harry corrected.

“Was?” James asked.

“Dumbledore backed off!” Harry grinned.

“More like you terrified him,” Reg sighed.

“Same thing,” Harry waved his hand dismissively.

“I don’t think I want to know,” Lily groaned.

“I do!” James said.

They tried to wrap up the conversation after that (with no explanation on how Harry terrified the Headmaster for James). They talked about Reg, James and Lily’s deaths and how they came back. Then explained they would be staying for the summer and that they could set up blood wards for Grimmauld.

Harry agreed immediately.

James and Lily had explained their chosen names, each honoring Reg in some way. Esmé, a name of French origin, meaning ‘beloved.’ And Artie as a nickname for Reg’s middle name, Arcturus.

Reg almost cried. 

It was also explained why Harry and Reg liked Dragon Flare tea so much. James used to make it. It reminded Harry of his family and Reg of his significant others.

Reg and Harry, after a brief silent conversation, told the others about Harry being a Horcrux. They were not pleased this had been kept from them, but they promised to let him be for a while, as long as he didn’t get too badly hurt.

By the end of the conversation, Harry was exhausted. He knew he was falling asleep and Reg combing his fingers through his hair was not helping.

He did eventually drift off with only one thought in his head.

He finally felt safe.