Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ron Weasley was the first real friend Harry Potter ever made. They were friends from the very second the redhead had entered the compartment the other boy was sitting in.

They had laughed about the ridiculous excuse as Ron admitted mere minutes into their ride that he had not looked in more than two other compartments.

“Those I checked were full, though,” he attempted to say through their laughter. “I didn’t lie, technically.”

If this was friendship, then Harry would never let it go. Not if he had any sort of choice about it at all.

It was way to precious to even consider doing something like that, even as a joke.

It did not take Harry long to realise that Ron wasn’t perfect, but no one really was.

The way he spoke to Hermione and to the Slytherins was not nice at all. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Ron did, however, do his very best to stop that behaviour, once Harry had pointed out how rude and not much different than the Dursleys that was.

The redhead still did it, but it was less and less frequent each day. And the comments were less harsh, too.

It was a work in progress. But the fact that Ron listened to Harry and actually considered what he had said, that made it worth it.

Harry couldn’t quite believe it, but Ron had organized Christmas presents for him. He got more than just the laughable pretense of a gift from his Aunt and Uncle.

He had only absently commented once that he did not expect any real presents. Apparently, that had already been enough for Ron to write home to his family and get them to bake and knit things for him.

It was simply incredible. Harry would never let go of that pullover and if he had to take it into his grave with him. After all, it was tangible proof that there were people out there who wanted him to be happy.

It was around Easter when Harry realized that his friendship with Ron and his friendship with Hermione were two completely different things.

The eleven-year-old could not explain the difference even to himself. That, however, didn’t change the fact that it was the simple and undeniable truth. Maybe it had something to do with the way that they had become friends, but his connection to Ron was somehow... stronger.

It didn’t mean that his friendship with Hermione was worth any less, it was just different. Maybe stronger wasn't a good word to describe it, after all.

And different did not mean bad, no matter what the Dursleys had taught him. They were wrong.

Leaving Ron behind with those chess pieces was not easy. Hermione almost had to drag him away from the lifeless form of his friend.

“Come on, Harry,” she coaxed. “All of us are here to stop Snape; he wouldn’t want the man getting away with the stone because you had to watch him sleep.”

“You’re right,” he replied. “Ron would not want that.”

Harry could barely hear his own voice, but Hermione understood enough.

Together, they moved forward with more determination than before. It was not just some vague threat that should be the adult’s job to handle anymore. It was so much more than that.

Every single day without mail that passed, Harry grew a little more desperate at Privet Drive. It wasn’t possible that Ron could have forgotten him, could it?

He had promised to write Harry and, so far, Ron had always kept his promises. He would not simply forget him that easily. Not after everything they had done together over the course of the last year.

Someone or something had to prevent Ron from writing the letters or Harry from receiving them. There was absolutely no other way, no other plausible explanation.

Or at the very least he hoped and prayed to every deity he could think of that this was the case. He certainly did not want to think about any alternatives.

Harry could not stop smiling on his first summer day away from the Dursleys.

And why on earth should he?

Ron cared enough about him to convince his brothers to steal a car and fly it over half the country, well aware of the consequences that would have if they were caught, just because he (also) hadn't heard anything from his friend.

Friendship was just great like that. And the Weasleys were even better.

One day, he would be a part of a family like that. There was nothing he wanted more than that in his life. Not right now and not ever.

The whole debacle about him — Harry freaking Potter, the very boy they had almost worshipped last year — being the Heir of Slytherin, the one that was responsible for those poor people — and cat — being petrified was horrible.

Harry was being bullied by the majority of the students and the majority of the teachers were not doing anything to stop it. Oh, how familiar that unfortunately, felt.

Ron was one of those who stood by him and that was all he needed to get through it. His opinion was the most important one of all; why should Harry care what others thought?

“Are you okay?” Harry asked frantically after Lockhart had crashed a part of the tunnel and created a wall that separated the two friends from each other.

“Yeah, just a scratch,” Ron replied, lifting an incredible weight of the other boy’s shoulders. “You?” The question was asked in a very similar tone to the one he had used himself.

Harry took a moment to check himself over. Nothing was broken or dislocated.

“I’m okay… I will go on, then. Ginny probably needs help.”

"Alright, I'll clear the way for your return then."

Harry began moving away slowly until Ron called his name again.

"Yes?"

“Take care,” Ron yelled, almost begging. “Please.”

“I will do my best,” Harry promised.

Harry returned to the barrier an hour or so later with Ron’s little sister right by his side.

“Ron?” he called out as soon as he saw the barrier appear in his field of vision, way further ahead than he would like it to be.

A hole just barely big enough for the two of them began to open in the barrier and he did his best to quicken the pace.

“Harry! Are you okay? What about Ginny?”

“We’re fine.” Harry laughed in relief. "Everything's fine."

They were safe, now. They were all living and no injuries Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t be able to fix, surely.

“They shouldn’t be celebrating me, I’m not a hero,” Harry complained in the Great Hall that night.

“You are,” Hermione argued, looking at him sternly. Her voice allowed no argument whatsoever.

“You saved my sister,” Ron added. “Did you hit your head or something, mate? And if so, why didn't you tell Pomfrey?”

And that was a major reason why he had done it. Because Ginny was Ron’s sister. If it had been just a random first year, Harry wasn’t sure if he would have done the same. He liked to think he would, but he was not sure.

He was not a hero. Not, when he wasn't sure he wouldn't do the same for anyone.

During the summer, Aunt Petunia tossed a book about puberty and all that came with it in his general direction.

“We don’t want you getting some girl pregnant and being burdened with another freak,” was the only explanation she offered. Questions, of course, were not to be asked to anyone else in the house.

Harry already knew some of it, but the entire section about gender and sexuality was new. Aunt Petunia probably hadn't known it was in the book, he suspected.

For all his life so far, he had thought that males would love females and vice versa. The fact that there were so many other possibilities were... mind-blowing, to say the least.

And Harry had a suspicion that he was anything but straight.

The confirmation followed roughly a month later in Diagon Alley.

More precisely, when Harry set his eyes on his best friend again.

Ron’s broad shoulders and long arms. The smile on his face. The way his eyes shone and his hair looked in the sun. Every single freckle was perfection in itself and while the redhead’s nose might not be considered traditionally beautiful, it was just so Ron that Harry couldn't help but admire it.

He was not straight at all and he had a crush on his best friend. That promised nothing if not trouble.

Chapter Text

Their third year started with horrible paranoia.

Sirius Black — or at least his name — was everywhere. Every conversation, every paper, and every magazine — even Which Broom? somehow managed to run an article centered around the Azkaban escapee. It was impressive, in an odd sort of way.

Ron and Hermione did their best to distract Harry, but any attempts were futile. As soon as Harry was distracted, someone would come around the corner or enter the room with the newest wild rumor.

Personally, Harry didn't believe any of them, not even the few that were technically possible.

Something about the entire situation felt wrong. He couldn't explain what it was, but there was at least one thing about this whole affair that was not as it should be. It was something that resonated deeply inside of him.

Professor Lupin — err, Remus, but only when in private! — was really nice, Harry decided.

When the man saw the third year wandering alone in the halls, he called him into his office and they started talking.

“I was a friend of your father’s, you know,” Remus commented absently as he was stirring his tea.

Harry felt his eyes threatening to pop out of his skull. “Really? Can you tell me anything about him?”

“Of course. What do you know?”

“Not really that much,” Harry admitted. “I know that he looked like me, was called James, didn’t get on with Snape and yet saved his life once, and... no, that’s actually it.” Nothing else came to mind and based on the expression on Remus's face, the man thought that that was terrible, just like Harry did himself.

From that day forward, the two of them got together every day and Remus told Harry every story about his father he could recall. Occasionally, about his mother, too.

It was amazing.

By the time the next Hogsmeade weekend rolled around, Harry knew a lot about his father, the other Marauders, and the pranks they pulled.

On his way back to Remus’ office, George and Fred all but kidnapped him into an empty classroom.

It was worth it the second they showed him why.

“It’s the Marauder’s Map!” Harry exclaimed before Fred had even finished the password.

The twins stared at him.

George asked, “How do you know?”

Harry smiled at them. “I know Moony and am the son of Prongs.” He was pretty sure he would be better of ignoring the other two as much as possible right now.

George stopped breathing for a few seconds and Fred dropped on his knees.

“We’re not worthy.”

Maybe Harry should let them know just who Moony actually was. That might be fun.

“Harry?” Ron asked, one evening in the middle of their third year.

Harry wasn't awake, not even slightly, but that actually served Ron well. Dean, Seamus, and Neville were all home for the holidays.

“Harry?” Ron repeated, slightly louder, trying to make sure that the other boy was really asleep.

When he received no reaction, he continued. “Harry, I think I might be gay. And I think I might, possibly, have a crush on you.”

It was easier to confess things when no one was listening and he didn't want to ruin their friendship.

What he didn't know was that Harry felt the exact same about him, so it would not be as much ruining it as taking it to the next level.

Neither boy knew that, and neither dared to ask the other, much to the frustration of Hermione who had been sworn to secrecy by both.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were walking back towards the castle after their visit to Hagrid.

“Stupid Malfoy,” Ron cursed. “Why can’t he just let Buckbeak live?”

“Are you talking about the older or younger one?” Hermione asked.

Ron shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” Hermione admitted.

They walked silently for a while, stopping when they heard the sound of the execution.

Then a big black dog came out of nowhere and dragged Ron towards the Whomping Willow.

Harry didn’t even think for a second before sprinting after them.

They ended up following a tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. This was followed by the most confusing hours of his life so far.

Twice.

During the summer holidays, Harry did not stay with the Dursleys for the very first time in his life.

He didn’t know that on the train or even when he got off it and onto Muggle Public Transportation, but when he arrived at number four — not home. Anything but home — he saw Remus and Sirius standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Harry questioned.

“We have a deal with your... relatives,” Remus explained. “They are going to let you go with us and pretend you’re staying here and in exchange, Sirius won’t kill them.”

Harry, Remus, and Sirius left not long after that, never looking back.

They did go to the Quidditch World Cup together. Sirius was under several notice-me-not charms and in his canine form.

Everything went well in that regard and Harry got to sit next to Ron during the game. Neither of them reacted to the veela.

“That means they are in looooove,” Fred sang in front of their tents later that evening.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. Was it possible that…?

“Tell us who is the lucky lady?” George looked at the two boys. “Or rather who are they? Unless you do like the same girl. That wouldn’t be so good. Is it Hermione?”

“No!” All three of them chorused.

Of course, Ron had a crush on some girl. It would be too good to be true.

They were back to school and the Triwizard Tournament was announced.

“Wouldn’t that be awesome?” Ron, clearly imagining the money, fame, and glory, turned to Harry.

The other boy shook his head, his normally auburn skin unusually pale. “No, it doesn’t. This doesn’t sound nice at all.”

Because people had died during this tournament before and a small part of him felt like he would too. Harry explained his reasoning to Ron who set his fork down and nodded slowly.

“I guess you’re right. What use is money if you died?”

Hermione smiled approvingly at the redhead.

“Here’s hoping that I won’t be roped into this somehow,” Harry said, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

Of course, he was included in that mess. He was Harry Potter, the favourite chew toy of Fate’s dog.

He had enjoyed just calmly sitting there, cheering for Cedric and ohmygodallthreeofthemarehot when the Goblet had changed colour again and the fourth piece of paper was released.

A sense of doom crept onto Harry.

“Oh no, please don’t,” he whispered. But it was no use.

Then, Dumbledore’s voice boomed through the hall. “Harry Potter.”

He didn’t move from his seat.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You have to go up there!”

“Do I really have to? Because right now I’d rather go visit Aragog again.”

“Sorry to say it, mate, but I think you do have to.”

A lot of the students believed Harry had entered himself and that he was trying to steal someone’s glory, but that wasn’t the case.

Hagrid knew that. Hermione knew that. Gred and Forge knew it. Sirius and Remus knew it — and they weren’t even here!

Ron knew it, too.

So, just like back in second year, Harry didn’t let everyone else’s comments bother him.

A couple of days after the announcement, Harry and Hermione were sitting in the common room, trying to find more useful spells, when Ron suddenly burst into the room.

“Dragons,” he said as soon as he regained his breath. “The first task’s dragons. You’ve gotta get past them, somehow.”

At that moment Harry was pretty sure he was going to die.

He didn’t, luckily.

Not long thereafter, another challenge was announced: a Yule Ball.

Harry tried to ask Cho Chang and Ron embarrassed himself in an attempt to ask Fleur Delacour.

Both Hermione and Ginny already had someone they were going with.

Harry collected all of his bravery. He was a Gryffindor. He had stood up to Lord Voldemort, someone he thought to be a mass murderer, and a dragon. He could to this. He could totally do this.

“Maybe we could just... you know... go... together,” Harry suggested, nervously playing with his hands.

Ron perked up and smiled. “I would like that. I would like that very much.”

After that, they finally figured out that their crush was mutual and got together.

“About time,” Sirius commented. “I wonder if that’s in the genes.”

Remus nodded. “It probably is.”

Harry didn’t stop smiling for a week. Not even in Potions.

Then it was suddenly February and time for the second task and they. Took. Ron.

He was back at the surface with Ron in twenty minutes, got him to Pomfrey and drove right back in because Hermione was also down there! And Cho and a small kid!

He helped Cedric and Viktor and when Fleur didn’t show up, Harry took the girl and left. He wasn't about to just risk them drowning like that.

Huh. Maybe there was something about his heroic tendencies, after all. But surely this was just what anyone would do, right?

The time flew by and before Harry knew, it was already June. Time for the final task.

This seemed doable. Just not die in the maze and this nightmare would be over.

Except there was something else planned, because, apparently, some peace and quiet was too much to ask for. Harry got kidnapped and used as an ingredient for Voldemort.

He nearly died, but he doesn’t. Cedric did, though.

Harry actually dueled Voldemort and he threw off an Imperius by the very same. That felt impressive.

He saw Cedric, Bertha Jonkins, the muggle from the dream he had, and his parents when his wand connected to Voldemort's via Priori Incantem or something.

And he managed to escape, luckily.

Harry just wanted to go to the hospital wing and hug Ron — not necessarily in that order, but people had something against that.

As it turned out, their Defense Professor was a Death Eater. Harry couldn't even summon the energy to be surprised.

He had to tell Dumbledore everything that happened and he only did so when Sirius, Remus, and Ron were all there. Hermione came along, too, because of course she did. They were too close for her not to do that.

He told the story once and then Sirius literally shoved him into Remus’ arms.

“Hospital Wing. Now,” he ordered.

Remus hurried there and Ron is right there with him, making sure any and all doors are open.

And Harry felt loved.

Chapter Text

The summer after his fourth year started out pretty terrible.

Then again, when wasn’t it when he was at the Dursleys?

Thankfully, it was only for a day as both Remus and Sirius were delayed by a meeting of some sort — they had written him on the train, profoundly apologized, and promised both to hurry up and explain everything possible.

But there was one thing that made the night bearable.

Ron called.

Harry had no idea how his boyfriend — wasn’t that incredible? He had an actual boyfriend. And it was Ron — had even gotten the Dursley’s number, but he honestly didn’t care.

The chatted until the sun started to rise again.

A few weeks later, Harry read an article in the Prophet about Dementors that had gotten loose around Little Whinging.

The Dursleys had been the main victims — they had their souls sucked out — and a terrible part of Harry couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry.

And even if Remus and Sirius assured him that it was more than alright for him to feel this way.

“Hey, at least Remus can finally legally adopt you in the muggle world,” Sirius had pointed out.

He had gotten letters from Ron, Hermione, Neville, and the twins — presumably Ron had sent his off before the rest even noticed what had nearly happened — asking him for confirmation that he hadn’t been there.

Harry wasn’t quite sure he could believe that he had this much luck with his friends. They logically knew nothing happend and cared enough to make sure.

Harry had never been more fed up with a Professor more than he was with Professor Umbridge.

At least Quirrel, Trelawny, and Binns stuck to ruining their own lessons and Lockhart could be largely avoided with a bit of practice.

He was reluctant to admit it, but even Snape was better than her. At least he actually taught something! Not very effectively, but still something.

They weren't learning anything in those lessons.

“It's even worse than with Lockhart if you ask me,” Harry complained to Ron one evening. “At least we didn't really need it back then.”

“Stop talking about that,” Ron replied, shaking his head and moving a hand over Harry's back. “Don't let them take up any more of your thoughts than they absolutely need to.”

Harry blinked. “That was surprisingly wise.”

Ron threw a pillow at him. “Shut up.”

Harry had been ecstatic when Ron had confessed that he wanted to try out for the Quidditch Team. He was additionally careful the entire week not to catch another detention with Umbridge — if either Ron, Sirius, or Remus ever found out what he had had to do in that week, she wouldn’t live another day.

Never before had he been to grateful for Hagrid's cooking skills. His friend had offered him a treacle tart earlier that day and — once Umbridge's back was turned — he had, er, eaten just enough of it to prevent him from speaking up.

Harry was not going to miss this for anything in the world.

“You can't always do that, you know,” Hermione informed him once she had removed everything from Harry's teeth.

“I know,” Harry admitted. “But this worked for the moment. And I'm not going to let her win.”

It was Hermione who had the idea to assemble a group of students and practice together.

At first, Harry had been really reluctant to go up there, but once he actually tried it, he found that he loved to stand in front of the others and teach them.

It was an amazing feeling and this was something Harry could imagine doing for the rest of his life.

Forget being an Auror, this was all he wanted to do once all of this was done he would do his best to settle down — hopefully with Ron at his side — and never get into another battle ever again.

He hadn’t even really been in a proper one and he was already more than sick of them.

How could Malfoy possibly dare to insult the Weasleys? The family that had taken them in as if he was one of them, who had introduced him to the way families were supposed to act, and who didn’t deserve what they got but so much more?

How could he possibly dare to do something like this right in front of the twins and Harry? Surely he knew that they would defend her, so why on earth would he do something like this?

It was only when his fellow teammates — well, ex-teammates — pointed it out that he understood that it may have been on purpose, to give Umbridge a reason to punish them.

But still, Harry didn’t regret punching Malfoy. Not quite.

Nothing would change that, no matter how hard they tried.

...though the Quidditch Ban came very close.

Umbridge’s detentions were terrible. It didn’t take a genius to realize that, so Harry was well aware of it.

He was, however, surprised, when Ron dragged him off to Professor McGonagall the very second the redhead had read the words.

“Professor McGonagall, we need to get rid of Umbridge,” Ron spat the last word the way he reserved for Voldemort or Pettigrew.

“Mr. Weasley, I am afraid there is nothing I can do against that,” Professor McGonagall tried to placate him.

“She hurt Harry!” Ron raised the other boy’s had to Professor McGonagall’s face.

Harry looked from his hand to Professor McGonagall’s face and realized one thing:

Umbridge was lucky if she survived this year — physically speaking. Mentally seemed pretty much impossible.

Harry’s Christmas was completely and absolutely amazing.

Everyone he loved and cared about was there. Ron, Sirius, Remus, Hermione with her parents, and the rest of the Weasleys — except for Percy who was too busy being friendly with the Ministry.

But they didn’t let that ruin their mood.

Harry spent the days snuggled between Sirius and Remus and the evenings and nights cuddling Ron.

If only moments like these could last forever.

Of course, that happiness was interrupted by a message from Snape — he didn’t deserve the title of Professor anymore than Umbridge did. The man was undeniably educated in the subject, but he shouldn’t have been a teacher.

So it was safe to say that Harry was not exactly excited to spend more time with the man.

When he spoke with Ron about this, his boyfriend gave him one advice. “The faster you learn, the faster you’re done.”

And Harry aced the lessons.

Once Umbridge had been removed — the woman had disappeared under ‘mysterious circumstances’ which basically meant that Professor McGonagall had worked together with the Weaselys, Remus, Sirius, and anyone else who had volunteered — their defense group had a discussion on whether or not they should stay as a group.

Almost everyone wanted to and Harry was most definitely one of them.

“It’s almost like having friends,” Luna Lovegood — a Ravenclaw in the year below them — commented.

“No, it’s not,” Angelina Johnson argued as she laid an arm around the younger girl. “I think you meant to say ‘it’s almost like having a ridiculously large family’. Because we are friends. All of us.”

Preparing for the OWLs was the most stressful thing Harry had lived through so far.

For what had to be the first time since he had been better than Dudley on that first — essentially meaningless — test, he was actually trying.

He wanted to make everyone proud.

It worked quite well, too — or at the very least he thought so — until the written exam of History of Magic.

Binns wasn’t even in the room and still managed to put him asleep, but that wasn’t the thing that was important.

He saw Sirius getting tortured by Voldemort in the place he had spent half a year or so dreaming about.

The very second he could get away with it, Harry raced up to the dorm and rummaged through his truck.

“Harry... what... are you... doing?” Ron asked once he entered the room behind him.

“Give me a second, then I’ll explain,” he replied. He had found the mirror and hurriedly called his godfathers.

Thankfully, both answered.

Chapter Text

If he was completely honest, out of himself, Sirius, and Remus, Harry seemed to be the one least worried about his OWL results.

He was pretty nervous to see if all his hard work — rereading every old note and book he could get his hand on in some cases and even more in others — had paid of.

It took until noon for the owl to arrive in Remus’s small cottage somewhere in Wales, thus Harry was taken by complete surprise. Hermione and Ron had only been over yesterday, after all, and Neville had written about two days ago and Luna’s letter would’ve been in a colour other than the normal shade of parchment. It took him a second until he realizes that that had to mean it was either from the Ministry or Hogwarts, somewhere official either way.

And what was by far the most likely thing to be delivered at the moment?

Harry almost sprinted down the stairs to the living room.

“I’m almost certain my OWL results are here!” he replied when Sirius asked him what he was so excited about.

“Open it, then,” Remus encouraged, leaning forward in anticipation.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results Pass Grades:

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades:

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy E

Care of Magical Creatures E

Charms O

Defense Against the Dark Arts O

Divination P

Herbology E

History of Magic P

Potions E

Transfiguration O

“I have three Outstandings!” Harry cheered. “Three! In Charms, Defense, and Transfiguration! And I managed to get an E in Potions. And in Astronomy, despite Professor McGonagall being attacked! And I passed everything apart from Divination and History of Magic!”

Harry looked up at Remus and Sirius. Both of them were mirroring the grin he could feel on his own face.

“That’s awesome!” Sirius exclaimed.

“Great job, cub!” Remus complimented.

Harry beamed at the attention.

Their sixth year seemed to be the quietest year yet.

Like sure, Snape was their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and the replacement Potions teacher seemed to collect people, but, for once, no one seemed to be out to kill either Harry or a good part of the school (that would have included Harry).

It was a welcome change, honestly. Worrying about homework and such instead of trying to uncover the latest plot of Voldemort. It was a nice change of pace.

Doubtlessly, there was some sort of plot in motion — something had happened every single year so far — but apart from the fact that Malfoy was acting a bit odd, there weren’t that many signs, so Harry, Ron, Hermione, and occasionally a few of their other friends — like Neville, Luna, Ginny, and Dean — were focusing on trying to figure out if the instructions of the Half-Blood Prince were harmful.

Between all of them, it didn’t take long to figure out that Snape of all people was the one how had written the annotations. But given the fact that Harry had already tried several instructions and they worked better, they decided to try them out one by one, and carefully note the differences to the original potions or the effects of the spells.

If Snape invented them, he was going to use them and it was likely that he shared it with one or more of his ‘buddies’.

Being prepared most certainly would not hurt. Sirius and Remus quite vocally agreed with that.

At one point in the summer, Dumbledore had collected him — Harry had spent a week at the Grangers’ house to prevent Dumbledore from finding out that he actually lived with Sirius and Remus, since the headmaster had something against that for some reason — and the two had gone to persuade Professor Slughorn to start teaching again.

Once they were done, Harry had been left at the Burrow and he and Ron had a sleepover. It had been a fun day, honestly.

During that visit, Dumbledore had also proposed individual lessons that Harry had accepted, expecting something like combat techniques or something.

What he got instead was the history of Voldemort and his parents. Harry honestly hadn’t thought that he would be feeling something disturbingly close to pity for the man that had killed his parents in cold blood. Never real pity, because the man still made choices to live as he did every single day, but something valguely in the direction of it nonetheless.

Because Tom Riddle Junior had never been able to feel compassion, love or empathy. Add in the arguable genes he had inherited — neither the Gaunts nor the Riddles really seemed like the nice kind of people — and it was no real wonder that the man became who he was today.

Especially given the fact that — according to Hermione and Remus — their views on childcare as well as the rest of the society seemed to be stuck behind the times.

Harry had noticed the missing technology and the odd fashion by himself, but he hadn’t really seen that much of Muggle society to really paint a picture for himself.

Given the fact that this time they were not distracted by near-fatal injuries of anyone, Harry and Ron were able to celebrate their two year anniversary in relative peace that Christmas.

Sirius, Remus, Harry, as well as the Grangers, Lovegood, Tonkses — and Diggorys — apparently Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Diggory had become friends after Cedric’s death and Mrs. Weasley couldn’t stomach the Diggorys spending Christmas alone — had all been invited to the Burrow together with all the Weasleys — Percy only sent a card.

They didn’t let that distract them, though.

Their Christmas was as good as the one the year before, if not better. No one had any time to be sad, given all the fun they had together.

Plus, Ron’s Two-Year-Anniversary present was amazing.

It took a while until it became clear that these lessons had a point beyond ‘understand thy enemy’.

Persuading Slughorn to give him the actual memory was surprisingly easy once he asked Remus and Sirius for help since they knew him and knew just what Harry needed to do to manipulate the man.

Voldemort was — apparently — somewhat immortal. At least that explained why he was still around.

The fact that they — Harry, Ron, Hermione, and their other friends that is — were apparently going to be the ones to get rid of them sucked.

Like, really.

The thing they were waiting for happened in June because of course it did.

Harry and Dumbledore had left the castle to find one of the Horcruxes when one of the Slytherins of their Defense group — that was still going well, better than ever before, even — sent a panicked message to Ron and Hermione.

“I forgot my book in the common room and when I came back to get it sounded like Malfoy was planning to have Death Eaters invade tonight or something!”

While Hermione and Neville set off to console the poor second year, Dean and Ginny were to wake as many teachers as possible, Luna to inform everyone of their group, and Ron frantically called Sirius and Remus with Harry’s mirror to alert the Order.

Even if it had turned out to be a false alarm — which it didn’t — they couldn’t just stand there at the sidelines and risk Hogwarts being taken.

The Death Eaters hadn’t expected so many people to be ready to fight them. It didn’t take long until they had captured everyone but Malfoy Junior and Snape, who had run up the Astronomy Tower.

But neither Harry nor the Headmaster had any idea about that when they landed on that very same Tower under the Dark Mark.

Harry was forced to watch as Snape killed the Headmaster, unable to move until the Headmaster had hit the ground.

He raced outside, raving and screaming after the man who dared to call himself a teacher until he collapsed when Snape apparated away.

Ron was the first at his side. He helped Harry stand up and they moved to the bottom of the Astronomy Tower.

The two boys stood there, in front of Dumbledore’s still warm body, unable to decide what to do next.

Ron didn’t let Harry go as the russet-skinned boy slowly knelt down opened the cracked locket that had fallen out of Dumbledore’s pocket and took out the note inside. 

Someone had been there before. Someone had switched out the Horcrux for this useless thing and it would take ages for them to find out who it was.

“Why are you holding a note from my brother?” Sirius questioned once he had leaned around Harry’s shoulder, hugging both boys.

“Your brother?” Harry hadn't thought much about Sirius's brother since he had learned about his existence. It felt like a bad thing to bring up.

“Yeah, that’s his handwriting and these are, well, were his initials,” Sirius explained.

That was easier than Harry had expected it to be. But things had to be easy at least some of the time, he supposed.

Chapter Text

Harry’s seventeenth birthday was all sorts of amazing.

The cake was great — Mrs. Weasley really went all out on it; it was quite possibly the best thing he had ever tasted — and his presents were amazing — everyone had put so much thought into them and the sheer number was overwhelming to Harry. Though. in all honesty, one single decent present probably would have done that. Additionally, the people in attendance somehow managed to be even better — his entire family and his best friends in one place, what was not to love about that?

In summary: everything was great, apart from the Minister showing up to hand over the items they had, apparently, inherited from Dumbledore, which was just weird. After all, they had no real bond with him and a book, a snitch, and a sword they didn’t actually get? The sword would’ve been useful, yes, and the deluminator definitely would be so in the future. But the book and the snitch were just... weird.

All in all, the whole ordeal was quite odd.

Although that didn’t manage to distract Harry from the fact that — for the third time in a row, unbelievably — he felt loved and cared for on his birthday. Harry had a great time with his friends and family.

He was waiting for something to happen because that was just the way his life worked whenever he dared to hope for a continued streak of luck.

Somehow, Voldemort had managed to take over the Ministry on the very day Ron’s older brother Bill married his French co-worker, Fleur Delacour.

Harry personally thought that Voldemort’s obsession with significant dates and their like was getting more and more out of hand every day, but Ron simply told him to shut up and run, since Kingsley’s warning was the only thing preventing the Death Eaters from surprising them and they needed to use every single advantage they had.

Hermione — blessed be her intelligence and forethinking — had packed a bag with everything the Trio would need, as well as a few things for some of their friends — because you never knew what would happen so the best thing was to prepare for everything you could think of — weeks ago. Thus, the only things Harry needed to do right now were to find his friends and get the hell out of here.

The first person he ran into was Sirius. Before they could search for anyone or even speak a word, Ron and Hermione had found them.

“No time for talking,” Hermione interrupted Sirius before he even started. “We have to get out of here as soon as possible!”

She grabbed Sirius and whispered something in his ear. When the older man nodded, she let go of him, grabbed Ron’s shirt, and apparated the two of them away.

Harry had no time to panic any further, as his godfather pulled him closer and apparated away as well.

They took refuge in Grimmauld Place 12. It wasn’t particularly clean, but it was the safest place they could think of.

Sirius and Remus had managed to hide the place with a new Fidelus Charm, with the former being the secret keeper and the latter casting the spell. The two of them had done that as a fails save for situations like this one.

After a few hours, they got a patronus from Remus, informing them that he and Tonks were okay. Minutes later, a second patronus followed. This one was from Mr. Weasley and it extended the previous one to include all of the order.

“No casualties,” was the message.

The ‘yet’ went unspoken.

For now, the four of them had access to food, drinks, warm water, and other such things while they plotted and planned on how to get rid of Voldemort, so it could be a whole lot worse.

Which, by the way, was not meant as a challenge, just to be clear on that.

Of course, the universe interpreted it as one either way, because that was just the way this all worked around Harry.

Remus visited them once while they were planning.

For the first few minutes, Harry and Sirius were delighted, with the enthusiasm of Ron and Hermione not far behind.

First, he confirmed that there was a curse on the name ‘Voldemort’.

“I’ll just refer to him as Tom,” Harry declared. “That’s not saying the name, but also not playing along with what he wants.”

“I like that,” Hermione nodded.

"Gets on his nerves, I bet," Ron commented.

The relative happiness lasted about as long as it took Remus to explain what happened since they had last seen each other. The order members were fine, if under constant surveillance. So far, no one had died or been seriously injured.

Then, Remus revealed that his wife, Tonks, was pregnant and he intended to leave her to join them on what sadly was a suicide mission.

And that just wouldn’t do.

Neither Sirius nor Harry were even willing to consider letting that happen, so they did what they had to.

They chased him out of the house, hoping that he would run back to his wife.

It worked.

The good thing?

They successfully got into the Ministry and got the locket.

The bad thing?

They were spotted.

Worse than that, they were caught, right on the doorstep of their ‘home base’, as Sirius and Ron had taken to calling it, slowly getting everyone else to adapt to the habit.

Since none of them were completely sure how the charm worked, how far it extended, and whether or not bringing Yaxley to the door counted as telling him, they decided it was safer to simply abandon the building.

They had taken everything important with them, after all. Half of it in Hermione’s purse and the other half in a backpack. They had done their best to split it up in a way both would be able to continue without the other.

They weren’t sure if they had done it, but there was no one who disagreed that they would never test this if they had any choice.

The locket almost destroyed them.

Whoever had the locket around their neck always got moody, annoyed, and distrustful, which increased tension within their group.

It was Ron who finally decided that enough was enough and took it off Sirius when he was having a heated argument with Harry.

The things his godfather was saying... they weren’t very nice. Harry was in tears by the end of it.

“That’s it,” Ron declared, walking over to Sirius and holding out his hand. “Give me the locket. There’s no way that that’s really you who is saying that.”

“The locket has nothing to do with it!” Sirius said, crossing his arms defensively.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Prove it, then.”

Unable to let the challenge go, Sirius took the locket off and tossed it in Ron’s hand.

Instantly, his whole demeanor changed.

“That thing is horrible. No skin contact from now on,” he decided as he moved towards Harry to apologize for his earlier behaviour.

“But how will we keep it safe?” Harry asked. “How can we make sure we won’t lose it if we ever get caught?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Hermione replies, moving some of her hair out of the way with her dark hand. “We always figure out a way to deal with things. We’re not gonna let this stop us.”

“Monie is right,” Ron said, successfully avoiding Hermione’s glare at the nickname. “That thing is making us fight and we need to work together if we want to get this done.”

“They’re right.” Sirius nods. “I won’t risk the chance of hurting you like this again, Harry.”

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long after that, that Harry spotted a patronus hovering near their tent.

A doe patronus, to be precise.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that masking the appearance of a patronus is considered impossible after extensive research on that subject, that would be very suspicious,” Hermione stated when Harry informed the others of this.

“It’s still suspicious,” Sirius argued. “That thing is clearly waiting for someone, whether it’s us or someone else. Which means that either someone else is hiding nearby or someone knows that we are here.”

“You’re right,” Ron agreed. “But assume for a second that it’s someone on our side who wants to help us!”

“How would they have figured out where we are?” Harry questioned. “It’s not like we’ve been careless enough to write anyone.”

“You’re right,” Sirius agreed before he came to a sudden realization, “but we mentioned this place out loud.”

“Of course!” Hermione exclaimed, taking her purse and rummaging through it.

“If you ever plan on telling us what you just realized,” Ron motioned towards Sirius, Harry, and himself, “we’re here.”

Harry chuckled slightly and took Ron’s hand as Hermione continued to search her purse.

“Do you maybe want to Accio it?” Sirius suggested after a minute.

Hermione groaned. “Yes. Thank you.” She nodded in his direction before she summoned the painting of Phineas Nigellus. “He must’ve been here earlier and overheard our conversation.”

“So the patronus is Snape’s? A doe?” Harry was baffled beyond reason. His father’s had been a stag as well, right? What did Snape’s patronus imply?

“He must still be feeling something for Lily,” Sirius theorized before Harry spoke a word.

Harry blinked a couple of times. “What?”

“Didn’t Remus mention it at one point?” Sirius wondered. “Snape had that creepy crush on Lily while we were at Hogwarts. She never really seemed to notice for some reason, I never wanted to ask.” Sirius shrugged. “I assume he never got over that crush.”

“That’s really weird,” Harry stated. “But that doesn’t tell us what we’re gonna do here. Is it a trap or not?”

“I say we check it out,” Ron suggested. “We take everything with us and let’s disillusion ourselves — except for Harry — as well. We’ll follow him and the doe and see what it wants.”

And that was how they ended up with Gryffindor’s Sword and finally destroyed the locket. Everyone was more than just glad to get rid of it.

Another month or so later, they happened to stumble over a couple of snatchers catching some poor Muggleborn whose only similarity to Harry was that they both had an Indian heritage but yet was somehow confused for him.

“We can’t let them take him!” Harry whispered furiously.

“Yes,” Ron agreed, “but we can’t just let them have you instead!”

“He’s right,” Sirius’s voice was oddly void of any emotion, “that’s not an option.”

“I agree,” Hermione deadpanned.

“But we can’t just sit around and do nothing while they take him!” Harry protested. “That’s just wrong.”

“We’re not going to do nothing!” Hermione argued. “We’re just saying that you offering yourself up for this kid isn’t gonna help anyone!”

“What else can we do, though?” Harry inquired.

“We can track them,” Sirius proposed. “Banish something small with a sticking charm on it onto their clothes and track it once they disapparate.”

“That’s a good idea,” Ron approved.

“Common practise with Aurors,” Sirius dismissed. “It’s not like I thought of it.”

Less than an hour later, the four of them were standing in front of Malfoy Manor, ready to break in with the help of Dobby.

They knew for certain that the boy from earlier was in there, but from what Dobby told them, there were also a few more people locked up down there.

Ollivander, Luna, Dean, and Griphook were those they had been able to confirm, but that didn’t necessarily mean that there wasn’t anyone else.

They had called Bill and the twins to help storm the place, as they weren’t sure how many Death Eaters were actually in the place and they figured more help certainly didn’t hurt.

They didn’t think that the Weasleys would show up with a virtual army.

Bill, Fleur, George, and Fred were there, yes, but so were Hagrid, Ginny, Neville, Remus, Seamus, Cho Chang, Padma, Parvati, and various other members of their defense club.

“It sort of escalated,” Fred explained offhandedly as soon as he saw Harry’s perplexed expression.

“But hey,” George added, “It’s certainly not going to hurt.”

And indeed, it didn’t.

With their confined strength, it was actually surprisingly easy to defeat all those few Death Eaters that were assembled there.

Amazingly enough, they managed to get Bellatrix Lestrange to confess to having hidden another Horcrux at Gringotts, while some of them were still searching every small corner of the building.

Or, well, she didn’t use the term itself, but they agreed that that was what it was.

They used the fact that several (former) employees of Gringotts were present to their advantage and the minute Griphook heard of a Horcrux being stored in Gringotts, he assured them that he would take care of it.

Even if he demanded a payment.

“Perhaps that nice, goblin-made sword you have there?”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

“I am afraid that we will need it to destroy Voldemort and his Horcruxes,” Sirius explained. “But I will sign a contract to assure you that the Goblin Nation will receive it as soon as reasonably possible once that is done. I am willing to throw in almost anything touched by Dark — sorry, Harry, malevolent — magic you can find in my family’s vault as well. There may be a few items that I would need to keep until further notice, but I can assure you that — unless the Goblin Nation decides these objects worth destroying — that is more than likely to be temporary.”

Going by the approving expression on Bill’s face, his godfather had just made a pretty good deal with the goblin.

That suspicion was further proved by the fact that the goblin did not seem absurdly cheerful when he agreed.

They left the Manor, once they were done collecting everything they thought useful and made a note of all evidence, but they didn’t split up. Instead, they all went to Bill’s cottage

Harry was standing next to Remus while his uncle told him all about the son that would be born any day now — Sirius would be the godfather — and that he was glad that he and Sirius had chased him back to Tonks when Harry collapsed with a vision.

As it turned out, Voldemort had caught onto the fact that they were destroying his Horcruxes — and it had taken him long enough to realize that, too — and wanted to check on them.

Expect for the Nagini and the one he revealed to be at Hogwarts, Harry was pleased to note that they had gotten them all.

By now, they all had enough energy to return to Hogwarts together, so they decided that they might as well liberate the castle while they were at it.

Except for those watching over Draco to ensure that he was really on their side. They didn’t trust him in such a potentially important fight such as this one.

Due to the fact that they had already handled a lot of the Death Eaters at Malfoy Manor two days previously, Voldemort’s side didn’t really have that many fighters. In fact, their side outnumbered the other almost two to one.

Yeah, winning wasn’t really that hard, especially after reinforcements for them arrived from somewhere — Harry hadn’t really noticed it, in the hassle.

Finding the diadem and getting rid of it and Nagini actually didn’t prove to be that much of a challenge either and by the time Voldemort himself arrived, Sirius was able to hit him in the chest with a cutting hex.

It was over now.

Chapter Text

There were some unchangeable truths in this universe. The sky was blue, Harry loved treacle tart and no matter how hard they tried, no matter how much they prepared, September First would always stay a hectic and stressful day in the Weasley-Potter household.

How could it not be, when a large number of their children — technically adopted children, but that hadn’t ever been a problem for anyone and it was unlikely to change — as well as Harry himself — as the Defense teacher for the last twelve years — had to get ready for the first day of the new school year? Even getting ready with just one child in school had been chaotic, so of course, it got worse and not better the more school-aged children they had.

As it had been the routine the previous decade, Ron was the first one awake. He had woken up early often enough because of their children that he found himself unable to sleep longer than seven in the morning.

The first person he woke up was his husband, Harry, so that he could get ready and start breakfast while Ron made sure that all their children managed to get out of bed.

Ron had long since figured out the best routine for this. He first went to Lukas’s room, because the fifteen-year-old had an unfortunate habit of falling back asleep.

Once that was done, he got to Claudia and Pauline, as they were the two who usually took the most time to get ready in the morning. Pauline, because she personally liked makeup and would apply it carefully every morning while Claudia simply needed an hour every day she was woken up before she got over the urge to strangle everyone trying to hold a conversation with her.

Padraig also needed a lot of time to get ready in the morning, but seeing as the seventeen-year-old was the next on his way, that did not make all that much of a difference in the grand scheme of things.

Then Ron returned to Lukas’s room and woke the boy a second time. He made sure to mention that he would get to see his boyfriend Max at the Station if they didn't arrive there last minute.

That got him to move.

By that point, Harry was out of the shower and began to take care of breakfast together with Valdemar, as the preteen had recently expressed his interest in cooking. For now, Valdemar wasn’t actually doing all that much himself, but he was slowly learning.

Meanwhile, Ron got to waking up Naak and Faas, the siblings they had adopted from Vietnam, Shayna, whose mother had been Jewish, and finally Uday.

One by one, the children got ready, although Ron had to help Shayna and Uday, as they were only five and three respectively and there were still a number of things they had yet to learn.

Once Padraig was ready himself, he began helping Ron coordinate the younger ones as well. That made Ron free to check up on whether or not Pauline, the twins — Claudia and Lukas — and Naak had all finished packing. Padraig himself had done so yesterday evening.

Which most of them had done. Pauline was putting in the stuff she had used this morning and Claudia was helping Lukas sort through his room to be sure he hadn’t missed anything.

Faas was helping his older sister enthusiastically, even if not completely productive, but they would manage to finish in time.

So Ron took a quick shower and went downstairs where Valdemar was just done setting the table.

“And you’re really sure I can’t go to Hogwarts? I’m turning eleven in October after all!” Valdemar questioned as soon as he spotted him. He gave his very best to seem innocent and adorable and he was good enough that Ron almost wanted to give in and let him tag along.

“No,” he said instead, hopefully sounding more certain than he felt at the moment. “Next year, though, I promise.”

Valdemar pouted. “That’s what Papa said.”

“And I told you your Dad would have the same answer.” Harry chuckled as he spoke. He entered the room at that moment, carrying a plate of bacon.

Ron planted a kiss on his husband’s lips once that plate was on the table, but they were interrupted by Padraig, Uday, and Shayna arriving in the room, the younger two of them squishing between Harry and Ron with the obvious demand to be picked up. Both adults followed this request.

“Ew,” Valdemar commented, only to be shushed by Padraig.

The two each took a seat at the table, quickly followed by Faas squeezing himself on the seat between them.

Pauline and Naak entered the room a few seconds later, but they made a quick detour to the kitchen to check whether or not there was anything else that they could carry to the dining room. Seeing as they returned empty handed, there didn’t seem to be.

“Where are Lukas and Claudia?” Shayna asked as Harry placed her on her chair.

“I assume they’re coming,” Ron replied. He was still holding Uday, because she refused to let go of him.

“They were looking for his cauldron when I checked in with them,” Padraig replied between two bites of an egg. “It was the last thing they were missing, though.”

“And we’ve found it!” Lukas announced as he entered the room.

“Yes, we did,” Claudia deadpanned, her eyebrow raised. “In your underwear drawer.”

“Why would you-” Pauline questioned, before she shook her head. “You know what, I really don’t want to know. I really really do not want to know.”

“Probably a good idea,” Naak agreed. “Can you pass me the salt?”

“Here it is,” Faas replied as Lukas was attempting to shove Claudia in her direction.

“Stop that, Lukas,” Harry reprimanded, as he put food on Shayna’s plate.

Ron himself had finally managed to persuade Uday to let go of him and he took his seat next to Harry.

“Mornings are really chaotic,” Ron commented. It wasn’t unusual to hear that from him, which is why Harry simply acknowledged it with a nod and an “I know.”

“Dad, do you know where my book for your class is?” Claudia asked, avoiding the spoonful of beans from Uday with practiced ease. “I thought Lukas has mine, but the nametag suggested it’s not. Plus, you said Ravenclaw and Gryffindor don’t have classes together this year and I don’t trust him to return the book.”

“That’s,” Lukas interrupted, clearly offended. There was a slight pause where he thought about it before he added: “Actually a fair point.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “But I’ll summon it for you.” Which he promptly did. It appeared out of a kitchen cabinet. Ron had long since decided to stop questioning these things.

“Thanks, Dad!”

The chaos continued throughout breakfast and soon it was time for the older ones to get their trunks while the rest of them took care of the dishes — except for Uday and Shayna who each began to play with a toy they could take with them on the drive to the Station — thank God they didn't live far from London.

As soon as they were alone in the kitchen for a moment, Ron sighed. “I could really live without this hassle.”

Harry smiled. “I agree, even if I maintain that it’s kind of endearing. I can’t imagine an empty house, that much is sure.”

Ron nodded. “I don’t think I could live with the silence. The only time it was quiet was in that year where it was just you and me.”

“I admit that there are a few things I miss from this time,” Harry admitted, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, before adopting a serious expression. “The silence isn’t one of them.”

There was a suspicious crash from the living room, followed by an “it’s fine!” by Padraig — who presumably took care of the chaos created by the others.

“Really?” Ron questioned with a laugh. “I could live without renovating the house every couple of months.”

Harry, being the romantic that he was at heart, had a response to this. "There’s only one thing — except for the children — that I can’t imagine living without, and that’s you.”