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SIYE Time:22:23 on 28th March 2024
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Rebuilding Life
By Kezzabear

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Category: Post-DH/AB
Characters:All
Genres: General, Humor, Romance
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1776
Summary: Harry has defeated Voldemort but is going back to his life going to be easy? What will he go back to, the life he once had is meaningless now. It's time to build a new one and to create a new post-Voldemort world. Ginny is there waiting for him, what do they need to do to rebuild their lives?
Hitcount: Story Total: 579789; Chapter Total: 16113
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Thanks gbsto! *mwah*! She's beta reads for me. She's very dedicated and catches all my terrible comma omissions and things.




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StoryPrinter


The rest of that first half-week at school passed quietly. Ron had returned home after kissing Hermione passionately in the middle of the common room and making her blush. He’d also slipped Harry a bar of Honeydukes chocolate and told him it might come in handy as a peace offering, given the look Ginny was throwing him. Ginny hadn’t spoken more than three words to Harry for the rest of the night and went to bed early without giving him a good night kiss. Hermione took pity on him and told him why Ginny was upset, instead of making him work or beg for it. The first opportunity he got the next morning, Harry pulled Ginny aside to apologise.

They had just finished breakfast and were on the way to Herbology when Harry ducked into a secret passage along the way, dragging Ginny with him. She looked at him coldly and Harry solemnly handed her the bar of chocolate.

“I’m sorry,” he said. Ginny took it hesitantly and began opening it. She paused before breaking a piece off and popping it in her mouth.

“What for?” she mumbled. Harry had a feeling he was being set up. After a long pause he sighed. It was no use; he couldn’t possibly anticipate what the correct answer was. He made a silent vow to himself to actually read Twelve Failsafe Ways because Ron clearly knew more than he did. Harry decided to go with what should be a safe answer.

“Being stupid,” he said. Ginny snorted and broke off another piece of chocolate. She stuffed it in her mouth and looked Harry in the eye.

Harry squirmed.

“If I’m not allowed to run off, then neither are you,” she said finally. “You aren’t the only one who’s earned the right to worry. I waited a long time to be able to worry with you.” She looked away quickly and shredded the wrapper on the chocolate bar. but not quick enough to mask the hurt in her eyes. Harry reached out to caress her cheek before trailing his hand down her neck and arm to grasp her hand.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said. He was utterly sincere. “I just … it had been a long day and he sort of took me by surprise.”

“Gerald?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “He was in hiding with Dudley.” Ginny’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed a perfect ‘O’ of surprise. She squeezed his hand and then broke off another piece of chocolate and popped it in her mouth.

“What are you going to do about it?” she asked. Harry watched as the chocolate rolled around her tongue and mouth as she spoke.

“We’re going to find their dad,’ he said absently as he moved closer to her. ‘”Are you going to share any of that?” Ginny grinned at him and slowly broke the remainder into two pieces. Harry reached out and placed his hands on her waist pulling her close.

“Maybe,” said Ginny, “if you’re good.”

“What do I have to do to be good?” Harry asked as he lowered his mouth to her neck.

“That’s a decent start,” Ginny breathed as she ate one of the pieces and tilted her head to give Harry better access to the lovely soft patch of skin just behind her ear.

“Where’s mine?” Harry murmured, hovering over her lips. Ginny held up the last piece of chocolate, tantalisingly close to his lips before smiling wickedly.

“Come and get it,” she whispered putting it on the tip of her tongue. Harry needed no second invitation and he pressed his mouth over hers, sweeping the chocolate into his own mouth as he kissed her fiercely.

The temptation to stay there had been immense. The kiss was warm and chocolatey and Ginny seemed to enjoy trying to get the chocolate back. Every kiss should taste of chocolate, Harry thought. But then the chocolate was gone and Harry knew that every kiss should taste like Ginny. They did make it to Herbology just in time but Hermione eyed them disapprovingly, Dean and Seamus were unable to keep a straight face and Neville kept signalling something. Eventually Ginny reached over and straightened his tie before wiping a smear of chocolate from the knot. Professor Sprout had been far too involved in explaining the intricacies of Rueberries and Flagwort to pay any attention to them and Harry grinned as Ginny trailed a finger down his tie — to make sure it was perfectly straight, of course.

That morning also saw their introduction to the new Transfiguration professor. Professor Thistlewaite continually dropped things whenever Harry caught his eye. Harry and Ginny began counting how many times Harry could make him drop his quill or a book. It didn’t last long because every time the professor bent over to retrieve the dropped item, his hat would fall off and he would perch it hastily on his head only to have it start to slide off again. Nothing was getting done and Hermione was giving both Harry and Ginny a look designed to freeze hell over. Harry stopped trying to terrorise the poor man who was clearly in awe of him and they spent the lesson mostly listening to stories about the professor’s Aunt Flossie who was gifted in Transfiguration. Seamus decided by the end of that first lesson that she needed to be canonised, given how often Professor Thistlewaite referenced her as ‘sainted’.

“I’m going to submit it to the Muggle Pope,” he declared. “I mean I’d submit me old Auntie Bridget but she’s not sainted, merely giddy.”

Double Charms nearly had the older Gryffindors in tears of laughter when Seamus managed to set fire to six pillows trying to clean and shrink them simultaneously.

“No, no, no Mr Finnegan,” squeaked Professor Flitwick. “Do the charms one at a time! It’s supposed to be a revision to ease you all back into the school year, not a time to practice Augamenti!”

“Stop,” said Hermione, a wicked gleam in her eye as Seamus waved his wand wildly trying to extinguish the cushions. “You’re saying it wrong.” She extinguished the cushions and restored them efficiently. Seamus pretended to swoon at her feet and Dean muttered something about her being completely mental. The reprimand she got for turning his hair into dreadlocks was minor.

“No, no, no Miss Granger,” said tiny Professor Flitwick. “This is Charms, not Transfiguration.” Later that night at dinner she confessed that Flitwick had asked her later that afternoon if she needed extra help due to her year away. He had been worried she was struggling to settle back into school.

As Harry flew around the Quidditch pitch on Friday just before lunch he wondered if he was struggling to settle back into school. He’d had Thursday afternoon free and now most of Friday — after a particularly excruciating Double Potions class where he and Malfoy had been unfailingly polite to each other. In fact, Harry had a free timetable until the fourth class on Monday, which was after the morning break. Ginny and Hermione were currently in Arithmancy and that afternoon Hermione had an Ancient Runes class. Harry felt at a bit of a loose end. He knew he should be using the time wisely to study but he had never had a free period without Ron before. Neville was taking extra Herbology classes; Seamus and Dean were taking Care of Magical Creatures and spending their spare time playing Exploding Snap and plotting to win Audrey over.

Harry felt alone.

He finished flying and made his way up to Gryffindor Tower. Stowing his Firebolt in his dorm room, he pondered his Muggle Studies text briefly but simply couldn’t bring himself to take the set essay seriously. Professor Crockwell had assigned two feet of parchment on the board game Monopoly. He’d never played it but he’d seen Dudley and Uncle Vernon play it all the time. It never ended well as the two were as greedy as each other. Harry sighed heavily as he shoved the text book to the side and flopped onto his bed. He’d been avoiding the Chumleys and avoiding contacting Dudley. It was as if Liberty knew he was supposed to be sending a letter because she kept flying to the dormitory window and looking at him balefully.

Harry felt guilty for not writing and for not paying attention to his owl. Liberty was sitting on the windowsill and Harry deliberately turned his back on her. The only incentive to sending Dudley an Owl was that it would drive his aunt and uncle mad. The thought made him chuckle briefly before he spied his potions text book under the Muggle Studies text and scowled. In order to complete the assignment Slughorn had set he would have to actually see, speak to and interact with Malfoy more than once outside the Potions class. Although it had been amusing to hear Malfoy practically admit to being a complete and utter git, it did not mean Harry wanted to spend any extra time with him.

Harry found himself wandering slowly down the Grand Staircase to lunch, at least half an hour before the meal was scheduled to start. He was halfway down the staircase and was pondering getting off on the fourth floor landing to take a stroll along a gallery he’d found once, tucked away into an obscure wing of the castle and full of oddly shaped urns, when the staircase suddenly changed and swung to deposit him on the fifth floor from which he’d just come.

“It’s a good thing I’m not in a hurry,” he muttered peevishly as he stomped along the landing, trying to navigate onto a set of stairs that would actually go down instead of up.

“Perhaps you should be,” piped up a small voice from his left. Harry didn’t even blink.

“What would you know?” he asked, without bothering to check which painting had spoken.

“Putting things off never led to anything good!” proclaimed the tiny voice. “If you don’t do it now you might never get a chance!” Harry turned to locate the sage advice giver. In a tiny painting, no bigger than a dinner plate was a fat, dimpled little boy in an old fashioned frock coat. He held a large piece of cake in one hand and a lollypop in the other. He looked familiar.

“Gee,” said Harry sarcastically. “You sure look like you know all about that.”

“I may look stupid,” said the boy in the painting, “but I’m not.”

“You’re right,” said Harry. “You do look stupid.” He turned to go when the painted boy laughed.

“You’d think you, of all people, would have learnt carpe diem,” he scoffed before shoving the lollypop in his mouth and shuffling out of his painting and into the meadow in the painting next door.

“Hey, what does that mean?” demanded Harry, but the fat little painted boy ignored him and concentrated on aiming a kick at the cow in the meadow and then running away laughing when the occupant of that painting, a thin, mean looking woman shouted and began chasing him with a frying pan. It was then Harry realised the boy reminded him of Dudley. Harry shook his head and kept going down to the Great Hall.

He was distracted while trying to decipher the little boy’s words and fell victim to one of the trick staircases. He was still there, his leg stuck in it up to his knee when Professor McGonagall swept around a nearby corner. She raised an eyebrow at Harry who was perched at a rather precarious angle, one foot stretched behind him and the knee on his other leg starting to glow an odd sickly shade of green where several misfired spells had failed to release it. Harry was scowling at his wand and trying to aim it correctly. Professor McGonagall made a tutting sound.

“I thought you knew where all the trick staircases were, Potter?” she queried, getting out her wand.

“I did, I do,” said Harry through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t think- erm, they’ve moved this one.” Professor McGonagall unsuccessfully hid her smile as she waved her wand and muttered an incantation that released Harry’s leg.

“How do you find your timetable?’ Professor McGonagall asked him as she walked alongside him as he continued down to the Great Hall.

“It’s fine,” sighed Harry. “All my free time seems to be together though and, erm… I am at a bit of a loose end. I’m not used to having um, time.”

“Large blocks of time without prior commitment can be very … useful,” McGonagall said. She sounded as though she was choosing her words very carefully. “They allow one to, shall we say, take care of other responsibilities and commitments.” She gave Harry a meaningful look.

“You mean like … Teddy?” Harry asked, unsure if he had grasped her meaning. Professor McGonagall nodded.

“I think you will find Hagrid perfectly able to facilitate …” she lowered her voice as they went past a group of students so small they had to be first years, “exit and entry. Don’t be late for lunch, Potter.” The Professor hastened her step as they neared the door to the Great Hall and swept inside. Harry stared after her with a grin. If he wasn’t mistaken, she had just told him to go and visit Teddy in his free time.

******************

Ginny’s eyes sparkled as Harry told her what Professor McGonagall had told him regarding the use of his free time. He had decided to go and visit Teddy that night and come back the next day.

“Just imagine how we can use this,” Ginny said with a wide smile. Hermione broke in disapprovingly before she could say anything else.

“I doubt Professor McGonagall meant you, Ginny,” she said with a frown. “You have Astronomy early on Monday and we need to prepare tonight. The wireless said it would be cloudy over the weekend and you know we need to bring that filled-in chart to class.” Ginny made a face as Hermione turned back to her text book and absently bit into a sandwich.

“She’s right,” she sighed. “I have a pile of Arithmancy homework to do as well as that silly Monopile essay.”

“I tell you what,” said Harry. “I’ll go get a Monopoly set and we can play it on Sunday and write our essays.”

“Hmmm, this could be to my advantage,” said Ginny slyly. “I have run out of chocolate and I’ll need some next week.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“How can you possibly know you’ll need chocolate next week?” he asked her, puzzled. Ginny blushed slightly.”Are we expecting a Dementor attack?” He raised his eyebrow at her.

“For the same reason Ron sent me some yesterday, Harry,” said Hermione primly as she packed her bag.

“Ron sent you chocolate?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“For some specific reason?”

“Yes, Harry,” repeated Hermione before she left. Harry looked around in confusion.

“But why?” he asked no one in particular.

“Just buy her the chocolate, Harry,” said Dean as he got up. “It’ll be worth it.” Ginny threw a balled up napkin at his head and he laughed before accompanying Seamus to the Ravenclaw table where Audrey turned her back on the pair of them for what was probably the twentieth time — that day.

“What sort of chocolate, Ginny?” he asked. She shrugged.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said before grimacing. “I need to go meet Susan. She’s going to help me with some Arithmancy. It’s such a bore. I probably won’t even need this for Quidditch, but Mum ...” She trailed off with a grimace and shrugged as she stood up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” said Harry catching her hand before she left. Ginny turned and gave him a soft smile.

“Can’t wait,” she said and pressed a kiss to his cheek before shouldering her bag. “I like soft centres.” Harry laughed and watched her as she left, turning at the door to wave.

“Have fun, Harry,” said Neville as he grabbed a sandwich and gathered his own bag. “I … well I have to help Professor Sprout with some re-potting this evening but maybe I can visit Teddy with you one time?” He seemed a little shy as he said it and ducked his head as if he thought Harry might laugh at him.

“That’d be great, Neville,” said Harry sincerely. Neville beamed.

“I’ll see you later, Harry,” he said. “Don’t forget that chocolate.”

“Why?” wondered Harry aloud to his retreating back. “What’s so important about chocolate?” Neville chuckled and said nothing. Harry scowled but his bad mood did not last long and within half an hour he had gathered together his things and was on his way to Hagrid’s Hut.

Harry found Hagrid tending his garden. Harry watched for a moment as he saw Fang gambolling around the pumpkin patch where the tiniest of pumpkins were growing on sprawling vines. Hagrid was trying to pull out a massive weed and it was resisting vehemently.

“Ah come out yer crazy green piece o’ compost!”

“Need some help?” called Harry. Hagrid looked up.

“ ‘Arry!” he called. “Professor McGonagall said you might be comin’ ter see me this afternoon.” Harry nodded as he put his bag down.

“Well I’ll be right with yer as soon as I get this thing outta the ground,” he grunted. “Right useful plant an’ all but not among me pumpkins.”

“Er, what is it?” Harry eyed the plant suspiciously. It was about a foot tall and had several stalk like vines and large glossy leaves sprouted directly from the stalks. There was a single large flower with white petals and a massive yellow centre sitting at the bottom.

“Gabblerwort,” replied Hagrid shortly before giving another heave. The flower suddenly snapped shut and the plant let out a scream. Harry slapped his hands over his ears.

“Why can’t you just leave it there?” he asked when the scream had stopped.

“Well it’s already strangled three of me pumpkins!” exclaimed Hagrid. “I can’t just leave it there! Can’t have the Halloween Feast without pumpkins now, can we?” Harry sighed resignedly.

“No, of course not,” he murmured.

“I can’t seem to get it out though,” said Hagrid wiping his brow with one large hand.

“It’s not really that big,” said Harry critically. “I bet its root system is bigger than the plant, though.” Harry peered closely at the thing.

“Maybe I should get Professor Sprout down here to get it out if she wants it so much,” grumbled Hagrid.

“Professor Sprout wants it?” asked Harry as he poked the plant timidly. Hagrid just nodded, the dirt previously trapped in his beard flying off in alarmingly large clumps.

“Apparently it’s one of th’ main ingredients in a new werewolf potion Professor Slughorn is trying to develop. Supposed to be more effective than the Wolfsbane. ‘Parently this is the finest lookin’ plant the professors have ever seen,” he said. “Professor Sprout wants to cultivate it, I think. If they can brew this potion it might stop this big push on at the Ministry lately. There’s some quill-pusher wantin’ to redo all th’ werewolf legislation. Some joker called Brown or summat.” Harry’s stomach lurched.

“What do they want to do to the werewolves?”

“Put more controls on ‘em. How’d yer like that?” rumbled Hagrid gruffly. “Reckons they can’t be trusted and anyone who’s ever had any contact needs to be locked up at the full moon. Wants to register all ‘werewolf influenced’ offspring, set up some sort of home fer ‘em. Bill Weasley’s fightin’em tooth an’ nail.”

Harry felt ill. Hagrid looked at him curiously as he sat down abruptly on a nearby stump.

“You all righ’, ‘Arry?” he asked, getting up and searching a pile of gardening tools nearby before pulling out a large garden fork. Harry took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Hagrid,” he said. “I just — I need to go do something.” Hagrid nodded.

“Figured you migh’,” was all he said as he plunged the fork into the earth near the plant. “Jus’ lemme get this plant to the Greenhouses and -” Harry pulled his wand from his pocket and cast a Summoning Charm on the plant. With a loud squelch it pulled free of the ground and came zooming into his arms, showering him with dirt. He handed the plant gingerly to Hagrid who looked at him in amazement.

“Got a pot?” asked Harry shortly. Hagrid chuckled and turned to dump the plant in a nearby Hessian sack. He scooped a few handfuls of dirt into the sack and tied the top around the stalk of the plant.

“I’ll just take this up ter the professor an’ be righ’ back ‘Arry.” Harry nodded and sat back on the stump to wait.

This changed his plans. He still intended to visit Teddy but he needed to know what was going on with this legislation. He needed to see Bill.

**************

Grateful not to have to use the Floo, Harry still stumbled on his landing outside Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. He pushed the door open and immediately a loud clanging began sounding throughout the shop. Ron suddenly dashed out of the room, his wand held aloft and his eyes darting furiously. He relaxed visibly when he saw it was Harry.

“I’m going to rip his other ear off soon,” Ron muttered grumpily as he reached up and pulled a green wire out of a box above the door. Harry peered into the box curiously as the clanging noise became a persistent ringing.

“What is that thing?”

“Some thing called a door bang,” said Ron frowning at the red glow coming from the wire in his hand. “Dad got it in some raid on a Muggle bookshop. He reckons it is supposed to let the shopkeeper know a customer is there. He gave it to George who thought it’d be a good idea to spell it to make a noise when someone opened our door.” Ron wrestled briefly with a red wire, finally pulling it free and the lingering ringing stopped abruptly.

“I think it’s a door bell,” said Harry, following Ron to the counter where he dumped the wires into a bent wire wastepaper basket.

“That is not a bell; that is a bang!” complained Ron. The wastepaper basket belched and spit the wires back out onto Ron’s feet. He kicked them under the counter. “George spelled it all right but it makes that awful sound every time and I still think it’s someone starting a fight. He went off to the pub laughing about it. I’m the one who has to put up with the noise!”

“Well I guess not any more,” said Harry, dropping his bag next to the counter and picking up a trick wand from the bin by the door. He waved it experimentally and it turned into a trout — complete with the smell.

“New and improved,” said Ron proudly as Harry wrinkled his nose. “What are you doing here anyway? How’d you get out of the castle?” Ron chuckled as Harry explained the tacit permission he had received, from the Headmistress, to leave the school grounds.

“But I got delayed because Hagrid was supposed to unlock the gate for me and he was fighting some crazy plant in the pumpkin patch,” said Harry as he fiddled with a stand of Wonderwitch products.

“Wow, you went out the gate?” smirked Ron.

“Yes, I know it’s unusual for me,” deadpanned Harry, “but apparently I’m going to be a world-class Auror. At some point I have to start following the rules.”

“Heh,” said Ron, walking to a door at the rear of the shop. “Moody wasn’t what I’d call a rule keeper.” Harry followed his friend and leaned in the doorway as Ron inspected a bubbling cauldron in the room beyond.

“His nickname was also Mad-Eye,” retorted Harry.

“Good point,” said Ron as he stirred the cauldron twice clockwise. “Dad’s spearheading a campaign to put a new statue in the Ministry; a memorial for the people like Moody who died … last year.”

“Better than whatever campaign’s going on about werewolves,” Harry said.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that,” said Ron, adding a pinch of something dark and muddy looking to the cauldron. The thick orange potion bubbled viciously before subsiding. “Bill’s furious.”

“Who is trying to redo the legislation?” asked Harry as Ron put a cover on the cauldron. Ron turned and exited the small storeroom that held experiments in progress and Harry stepped out of the way as Ron shut the door behind him.

“Some uncle of Lavender’s,” he answered. “Her family’s all bent outta shape by the fact Greyback went after her.”

“I thought she was all right?” asked Harry, following Ron around the shop as he straightened stock on the shelves.

“She is,” Ron said softly. “She wasn’t hurt by that animal anyway. Hermione got to him before Greyback got to her. Parvati says she’s terrified of her own shadow now, though.”

“Parvati didn’t come back with Padma,” mused Harry as he picked up a Skiving Snackbox.

“Nah she and Lavender set up that new fortune telling place over there,” said Ron, gesturing out the window to a small door, shrouded in filmy shawls. “Opened it up … Monday I think it was. I’ve seen Parvati out and about, she came over here one day and George tried to chat her up. Lavender never comes out though. Parvati reckons she Floos in every morning and she avoids all the customers and just does the books and things and then Floos home at night. Parvati was saying she doesn’t think Lavender even goes outside.”

“But Lavender was all right,” protested Harry. “She came to the award ceremony and spoke to Luna for that article and everything.” Ron shrugged.

“Apparently she went a bit … strange last full moon,” he said. “Parvati said she had some sort of nightmare about werewolves. I’d go and see her but … somehow I think I’m the last person she’d want to talk to, y’know? Are you buying that?” Harry looked down, startled at the package in his hands.

“Yeah,” he said. “I think it’ll give Ginny a way out next time Hermione corners her to study.” Ron snorted indelicately and then waved off Harry’s money.

“Honestly, as if we’d let you pay,” he said as he pulled the blinds down on the window near the cash register. “I’m closing up, where are you headed anyway?”

“I was gong to see Teddy, but I need to find out about that werewolf legislation,” Harry answered.

“Well, Bill’s your man there,” said Ron absently, counting the day’s takings and putting it into a Gringotts sack. “Why don’t you Floo him and ask him if you can drop by? I’ve got to run to the bank. You do that and I’ll meet you back here. Then we can head home. I’m telling you, mum will be that thrilled to have you home to fatten up.” Harry laughed and headed to the office.

Bill agreed to fill Harry in on the new proposed legislation immediately and said he’d meet him at the Burrow after tea that night. Harry had no sooner pulled his head out of the fireplace when Hannah’s frantic voice filled the room as her head popped up in the green flames.

‘Ron! Are you there?”

“Nah, he’s stepped out. Erm, I can give him a message if you like?” answered Harry.

“Oh! Harry! Oh — um okay, that’d be great,” Hannah seemed surprised to see him, for which Harry did not blame her. “Just tell him … oh just tell him can he please come and get his brother.” There was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass and Hannah pulled her head swiftly from the flames and was gone.

Ron shook his head when Harry gave him the message. His shoulders slumped and he looked defeated.

“It’s barely five in the afternoon,” he said dejectedly. “I think George is getting worse. I’ve never had to pick him up so early before.” Harry squeezed Ron’s shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll help,” he said and the two of them stepped out into the falling dusk and, locking the door behind them, made their way to The Leaky Cauldron.

“Hannah’s been pretty good,” said Ron as they walked. “She looks after George you know; calls me when he’s had too much at lunch, sometimes late at night.” He shrugged. Harry didn’t know what to say. This was a new part of life, one he’d not seen before, one which he suspected Ron had grown weary of hiding.

When they entered the pub through the back entrance it was a world of noise and colour — the hair and the language. A red-headed man stood in the middle of the pub, a large tankard of mead in one hand and gesturing wildly with the other.

“Oh thank goodness you’re here!” exclaimed Hannah, dashing over to them, a tower of glasses wobbling precariously in her grasp. “He sort of got really loud really suddenly and I just didn’t realise he’d had so much to drink!”

“But-but that’s not George!” sputtered Ron as the red-head sloshed the mead down his front trying to drink it. “That’s Percy!”

“Well, he’s your brother, isn’t he?” said Hannah impatiently and she walked away, her tower of glasses swaying dangerously. Ron sighed heavily.

“Why me?” he muttered as he approached the now singing Percy. Harry trailed after him.

“Ninety-nine bottles of mead on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of me-eaaaaaaad!” bellowed Percy before letting out a loud belch in Ron’s face.

“Oi Percy, you sound like you’ve had ninety-nine bottles of mead,” Ron said, taking the tankard from his brother’s grasp and putting it on a nearby table.

“Hey!” Percy protested. “Thass mine!”

“Yes, it was,” said Ron grimly. “But seeing as you’ve had enough mead we’re giving it to the poor people.”

“Haven’t had enough mead,” said Percy woefully. “Still hurss. It still hurss! Gimme back my drink.” Ron shook his head.

“Nah mate, come on let’s get you home,” he said and then paused.” Although come to think of it, Merlin knows where it is you live.”

“Ron?” questioned Percy suddenly, peering through his spectacles at his younger brother. “Ron, is tha’ you?”

“Yes, it is and-”

“Oh Ronnie bo-oooooooooy!” Percy suddenly burst into song. “The pipes the pipes is ca-aaaaalling … only I think it was Hannah called you … from glen to glen and down th’ mount — hey there ain’t no mountains in Diagon Alley! Ooh mountains … I learnt a song once, this Muggle girl taught me, about mountains. She reckons there ain’t any high enough. She let me see her -” Percy paused, tried to grab the mead again and looked around and lowered his voice to what he probably imagined was a conspiratorial whisper, “her peaks if you know what I mean?”

“That’s lovely,” said Ron, moving the mead further out of Percy’s reach and pulling out a chair to push his older brother into.

“She had some very nice breasts,” murmured Percy contemplatively. “I’ll tell you who else has very nice breasts — P’nelpy. Not that I have ever touched them. S’not right isst?” He looked up at Ron imploringly and Harry saw a tear roll down his cheek.

“I am sure she has very nice breasts. Let’s get you home,” Ron muttered. “Now can you please tell me where you live?” Percy regarded him solemnly for a moment.

“I live in a flat,” he enunciated very carefully. “An’ it’s very, very boring. Jus’ like me.” He nodded emphatically before clutching his head.

“Yes, I can believe that,” said Ron, rolling his eyes. “Where is it?” Percy suddenly looked at Ron with wide eyes.

“Guess who else has gotten breasts, Ron?” he said urgently. “Ginny has gotten ‘em. Someone’s going to try and touch hers!”

“Don’t be daft, man,” said Ron, hoisting Percy to his feet and slinging an arm around his shoulder. “She’s going out with Harry.” Percy stood up ramrod straight.

“Sheesh got a boyfriend? Have I met him? Ish he nice?” Percy’s words tumbled out faster than the Hogwarts Express. “Heesh not going to touch her … peaks is he?” He slumped forward as if the effort of speaking had exhausted him.

“No, of course he’s not,” Ron rolled his eyes at Percy behind his back.

“Good,” said Percy decisively, stumbling back and falling into the chair, “cos thass jus’ not right.” Ron hauled Percy out of the seat again and slung one arm over his shoulder. Percy swayed precariously and Harry hurried to prop up his other side. Percy peered at Harry.

“Come on mate,” muttered Ron and began leading them to the door. “We’ll take him to the Burrow. I don’t think this one should Floo, he’s liable to get out at the wrong grate; hope my Side-Along is up to it.” Percy lurched sideways suddenly and Harry staggered under the weight.

“Hey,” mumbled Percy, “you’re Harry Potter. You’re a hero. You figh’ dragonsh!” Harry grimaced as Percy breathed in his face.

“Yes, yes,” said Ron impatiently as Percy stopped and took his arm from around Ron’s neck and reached up in the vague direction of Harry’s forehead. Harry eyed Percy warily and then winced as Percy narrowly missed his eye and stabbed him in the temple.

“You’ve got a scar up there,” slurred Percy as Ron grabbed his arm and slung it back around his shoulders. “P’nelpy’s got a scar. From slicin’ s-stuff. Potion s-s-stuff. Snape, he c-called ‘er … called ‘er …”

“Dunderhead?” supplied Ron, grunting with the effort of dragging a resisting Percy out of the pub so they could concentrate on Apparating him home.

“Yesh!” shouted Percy triumphantly. “But sheesh not. Sheesh not a dunderderhead. Sheesh very, very shmart.”

“Yes of course she is, hold tight Perce.” Ron signalled to Harry to let go of Percy and then Apparated them both away. Harry followed moments later and reappeared on the lawn outside the Burrow to find Ron holding Percy up as he vomited into a garden bed. Percy looked wretched. He was slightly green around the edges and looked extremely wan as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Ron abruptly hauled Percy to his feet.

“Come on, inside, let’s sober you up,” he said briskly. He dragged Percy up the back steps and into the kitchen. Harry trailed after them. He watched as Ron sat Percy in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and pulled out his wand. Percy lurched forward and tried to get up. Ron shot out a hand to pin him in place.

“I have to get back,” Percy mumbled. “Got to ‘pologise … ‘splain thins.”

“Oh no you don’t, sunshine,” muttered Ron, emphasising his words by pressing Percy back into the chair. “Sit tight and in a few minutes you can ’splain things to me.” He waved his wand and muttered an incantation Harry had never heard before and suddenly Percy groaned and laid his head on the table.

“Oh why is the room spinning?” he whimpered quietly, closing his eyes.

“Because you had too much to drink you git,” answered Ron loudly and Percy winced, clutching his head.

“I thought you sobered him?” Harry commented, observing Percy as he moved slowly and carefully to pick up the jug of water on the table and pour himself a glass.

“I did,” said Ron with some satisfaction. “Hangover charm comes separate, after he tells me what made him drink a lake full of mead.”

“I only had the two tankards,” said Percy, “and I have a vague feeling I didn’t even finish the second one.”

“Well yes, two tankards of mead on top of how much Firewhiskey?” Ron said as he leant against the table.

“Just three shots,” protested Percy, his head in his hands. Ron shook his head with a wry grin.

“Don’t go drinking any more, hey Perce?” he said. “You simply cannot hold your liquor. Now what is it got you so bent outta shape that Hannah had to call me to come get you?”

“I wasn’t that bad,” said Percy weakly.

“Oh yes, you were!” ground out Ron, poking a finger in the air near Percy’s face. “You were so sloshed it took both Harry and me to get you home!”

“Harry? He’s at school,” said Percy, taking a sip of his water.

“No, he’s not,” said Ron. “He’s standing right there because he had something better to do this weekend than look after drunken brothers, so pull yourself together!”

“But she’s left,” said Percy with a despondent glance at Harry, “and she is never coming back.”

“Who?” asked Ron impatiently searching the large containers on one of the sideboards and pulling out a handful of biscuits and tossing one to Harry.

“Penelope,” moaned Percy. “She thinks I was having an affair with Stella!” Ron stopped short, a biscuit halfway to his mouth which was wide open in shock. He dropped abruptly into the chair next to Percy.

“She left you?” he repeated blankly. “But you … you’ve been together for six years.”

“Seven,” said Percy distantly. “Well close enough to anyway, we didn’t sort of really get officially together until sixth year but, well … we didn’t have anyone else for a whole year before that.”

“So … what happened?” asked Ron, pushing a crumbling biscuit over to his older brother. Percy picked it up and ate it absently, staring into the distance.

“Stella,” he mumbled through biscuit crumbs. “D’you remember that day you came, Harry?” Harry jumped, startled at being addressed; he nodded quickly and sank into a seat at the table.

“Yeah,” he said. “I thought you were imagining that she was stalking you.” Percy nodded emphatically and groaned. Ron muttered a quick incantation under his breath and Percy suddenly looked a lot more relaxed.

“You were right,” he said. “She’s got a Muggle boyfriend with a Heavy Darlinson and a really big tattoo — bigger than George’s.”

“Harley Davidson,” murmured Harry at the same time Ron yelped, “George has got a tattoo?” Percy looked at Ron questioningly.

“Yes,” was all he said. Ron shook his head slightly.

“So what did Stella do?” Harry asked.

“Nothing!” cried Percy, “but Penelope thinks she did. She saw Stella getting something out of my eye — I had been inspecting the renovations to one of the court rooms and I got some dust or something in it — and then the next thing I know Penelope’s screaming about trust and relationships and … and she called me boring.” Percy stuck a hand in his pocket and pulled out a ring. It sat on the palm of his hand, glinting in the light from the candle on the mantelpiece. Dusk was falling rapidly and Harry could smell a delicious meal from the cauldron on the stove but everything else faded away as he stared at the ring, the symbol of love that Percy had given Penelope.

“She gave it back,” Percy said quietly. None of them said anything. Harry felt an odd sort of sympathy for Percy. He knew what it was like to be ignored by the girl of your dreams but he knew it would hurt a million times worse if she rejected you on that level.

Just then Molly came bustling in. Percy snapped his hand shut and pocketed the ring before studiously taking a sip from his glass. Molly had obviously been upstairs, judging by the overflowing laundry hamper she was carrying, but Harry hadn’t heard her tread on the stairs. She stopped short when she saw them.

“Percy! Harry! What are you boys doing here?” she exclaimed dropping the basket. “Is everything all right at Hogwarts, Harry?” Harry cursed himself inwardly at the look of terror on the woman’s face.

“Its fine, Ginny’s fine,” he said hurriedly. “I came home to visit Teddy.”

“Oh,” said Molly, retrieving the laundry hamper. “Well it’s wonderful to see you dear.” She patted his shoulder as she walked past and into the laundry.

“What’s for tea, Mum?” asked Ron lazily as he leant back in his chair. Molly half turned and smiled at her sons. She shook her head slightly.

“It was going to be just me and your father,” she said before disappearing into the small room. She emerged a moment later without the hamper. “So it was a simple stew.”

“There is nothing simple about your stews, Mother,” said Percy, still leaning his head on one hand. “They are a work of art.”

“Oh you are a flatterer,” she skittered, fluttering a hand at Percy. “I’ll have to expand it somewhat for the three of you though. You are staying, aren’t you Percy?” Percy nodded silently.

“I don’t have any place else to be,” he said glumly. Molly moved forward to pat his shoulder.

“You always have a place here, Percy,” she said. “This is your home.” Harry was suddenly embarrassed that he had turned up unannounced.

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know-” he started but Molly cut him off immediately.

“Stop!” she said fiercely. Her face softened as she looked at Harry. “You are always welcome, dear. That’s what home means.” She squeezed Percy’s shoulder as she said it before turning away and busying herself at the sink and bustling back and forth from the scullery to the sink with vegetables. Harry’s embarrassment faded and he felt a sort of warmth spread through his chest as he watched Molly enlarge the cauldron and begin adding things to it.

“So when’s Bill coming?” asked Ron after a moment.

“Bill’s coming?” asked Molly absently, spelling the knives to scrape, chop and peel.

“Yeah, to talk to me about this werewolf legislation thing,” said Harry.

“Will he be here for tea?” asked Molly shooting a jet of water into the cauldron with her wand and setting a spoon to stirring it.

“I don’t know,” answered Harry. “I didn’t think to ask.”

“Never mind. Ron, Floo your brother, see if he wants tea,” Molly commanded, searching the spice rack and pulling down a large jar of something green and dried that looked uncomfortably like potions ingredients. Ron grumbled but shuffled to his feet and did as he was asked.

Bill and Fleur accepted the invitation and Molly had Harry and Percy set the table and by time Arthur Apparated into the backyard they were ready to sit down and eat. Arthur proclaimed that seeing Harry was a lovely surprise and Fleur kissed him on both cheeks and he managed to blush spectacularly like he hadn’t in years. The family sat down to eat and the silence over George’s whereabouts was palpable. Percy was glum and spoke only to ask for the pepper but Fleur carried on a cheery conversation about her work at Gringotts. Well it was almost a conversation and would have been if anyone had answered her.

Ron ate as though he’d not had a good meal in a week, Molly played with her food and Arthur nodded absently to Fleur as he ate and looked over some of the paperwork next to his plate. Harry looked up and caught Bill’s eye and he could see the worry there. Bill smiled tentatively at Harry but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“- and so I said to zee goblins, I will not carry out these tasks for you! You should make zee new girl do eet! She iz smaller zan me and will fit down zere much easier!” Fleur let out a tinkling peal of laughter and there was a chorus of half-hearted laughs but Harry very much doubted that anyone knew what was so funny. Fleur fell silent and the only sound was the rustling of Arthur’s parchment and the clink of silverware against the dishes. Harry shifted uneasily as he ate. Bill cleared his throat.

“So, how’s the first week been, Harry?” he asked. “Have you had a Defence class yet?” Harry swallowed his mouthful of stew hastily.

“Um, yeah, it was two days ago,” he said.

“Did it go all right?” Bill prodded.

“Um, well I guess so,” Harry mumbled, looking at his stew, suddenly fascinated by the pieces of carrot floating in it.

“Go on, tell him about that Slytherin kid you wiped the floor with,” interjected Ron.

“Harry?” Arthur piped up suddenly. “Were you duelling?” Arthur looked concernedly at Harry, his eyebrows slightly raised.

“Erm …” was Harry’s only response.

“Oh come on, Dad,” said Ron. “It was just a specky, Slytherin git.”

“That is not the point, Ronald,” said Arthur icily. “Why does the floor need to be wiped with anyone in a classroom? How does that make Hogwarts any different to last year? I must say-”

“He threw a curse at Ginny,” Harry blurted and immediately regretted it when Molly dropped her spoon with a deafening clang against the side of her bowl.

“He what?” asked Bill, leaning forward, his eyes furious.

“I was ignoring him,” said Harry. “He had his wand on me but then he turned it on Ginny and when I threw up a shield charm he started firing over the whole room. Neville couldn’t hold a shield over everyone forever so I … took him out.” Harry finished weakly.

“What are those vicious little animals doing pulling wands on other students in that school!” exploded Molly suddenly. “Enough! No more!” Harry didn’t know what to say as Arthur reached over to grasp Molly’s arm firmly.

“No,” she shook his hand off, her eyes blazing fiercely. “Why are my children still in danger?”

“Molly-”

“It’s supposed to be all over, it’s not supposed to still keep happening!” said Molly, her voice rising as she spoke. “They’re supposed to be safe! I want them home!”

“Ginny’s safe, Mum,” said Ron. “Harry’s there.”

“Who’s looking after Harry?” screeched Molly, turning to Ron suddenly. Ron snorted loudly.

“If there’s one thing Harry can do, it’s take care of himself,” he said, laughing.

“Then how did he end up in the Hospital Wing?” asked Molly coldly. Ron gulped. “Don’t think Professor McGonagall didn’t Floo me.” She turned to Harry who shrank down in his chair. He could sense she was about to coddle him.

“Leave him alone, Mum,” said Bill idly. “He’s a grown man.” Molly sighed heavily and Arthur patted her arm.

“I’m okay,” said Harry. “Really I was only there for maybe … an hour.”

“I know, I know,” said Molly. “It’s just … I worry.”

“Well, let’s worry about George,” said Ron suddenly, harshly. The pain that crossed Molly’s face was raw and palpable. Bill flinched and Arthur closed his eyes and rubbed his hand across his forehead.

“What’s wrong with George?” asked Percy idly, stirring his stew.

“Oh, have you forgotten?” snarled Ron sarcastically. “Let me refresh your memory. OUR BROTHER DIED!” Molly covered her face with her hands. Ron’s face was red with fury and Fleur was pale, her eyes swivelling from Ron to Percy and back again.

“I know,” said Percy quietly. “I was there.” Ron subsided a little.

“George is not doing well, is he?” asked Bill. Ron shook his head.

“He’s moved from womanising to drinking,” replied Ron.

“Where is he now?” inquired Fleur. Ron shrugged and pushed his plate away resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

“We thought he was at the pub,” Harry volunteered.

“Found this one instead,” said Ron, raising his head and jerking his thumb at Percy. “Maudlin drunk he was.”

“Why, Percy?” asked Molly suddenly, dropping her hands and eyeing her third son. Percy looked down at his plate.

“Penelope …” he trailed off.

“Is she all right?” questioned Arthur carefully.

“Probably,” shrugged Percy carelessly. “She left and seemed quite happy to do so.”

“Oh Percy,” sighed Molly. She got up and engulfed her son in a hug. She pulled back a little and took his face in her hands, examining him carefully. “I didn’t realise. I didn’t ask why you were here. I just … I don’t even know how my own children are.” Percy looked at his mother for a moment and Harry saw a glistening tear and roll down his cheek.

“I miss her,” he said and his mother folded him into a hug, holding him as sobs wracked his body.

“Harry,” said Bill softly, indicating they should move into the lounge room.

“I weel clean up ze table,” Fleur said softly. She began sending the dirty dishes on the table to the sink. Arthur sat quietly at the head of the table staring into space and smoothing the edges of his stack of parchment. Harry followed Bill out of the kitchen, Ron on their heels.

Once in the lounge room Bill began pacing back and forth in front of the window. The curtains were not yet drawn and Harry could see the stars and moon which was nearly full. Bill stopped pacing abruptly and turned to face Harry, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“This Brown fellow wants to regulate werewolves and anyone who’s been attacked or influenced in any way,” he said. “Reckons ‘those so influenced’ can’t be trusted and says they need to be institutionalised to keep everyone safe. He wants to lock me up in case I go nuts at the full moon.”

“But that’s …”

“The day after tomorrow,” said Bill raggedly, running a hand through his hair as he turned to look out of the window. The moonlight cast eerie shadows on his face across his scars. “Brown had one of his goons in the MLE come down to Gringotts while I was at work yesterday and ask me all sorts of … personal questions. They asked Fleur … I found out later, they asked her … about our sexual activity.” Bill finished in a hurry and stopped, flushed and embarrassed.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” asked Ron.

“I don’t know,” Bill shrugged. “Fleur was so angry she wasn’t making much sense but I think it was questions about if I got violent. She was spewing forth a string of French obscenities that I think said something about perversion.” Ron snorted.

“Can they lock you up?” asked Harry. Bill shook his head.

“Not yet, no law that says they can,” Bill sighed heavily and continued quietly. “If I had kids they would try and take them away. We were going to try for a family soon but … I can’t do that until this is settled. I won’t have my children taken away. I can’t.”

“Teddy,” murmured Harry. He looked up at Bill suddenly. “They want to take Teddy don’t they?” Bill nodded slowly.

“Andromeda threw them off the property yesterday,” he confirmed. “She sent Kreacher to Grimmauld Place with Teddy until they were gone.”

“Yesterday?” questioned Harry. He was scared and incensed. He didn’t know which emotion was stronger and thought he might be in shock. “Yesterday? And no one thought to tell me yesterday? Where the hell is Kingsley?”

“Well they can’t take Teddy,” soothed Bill. “He wasn’t in any danger, Andromeda just sent him away as a precaution.”

“I’m his godfather!” shouted Harry. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“I sent a message to the Headmistress,” added Bill. “She didn’t say anything?”

“Only to tell me in a very roundabout way to come see Teddy this weekend,” admitted Harry. He paused. “But this is why, isn’t it?”

“Probably,” agreed Bill. Harry sat down abruptly and rubbed a hand over his face wearily.

“Kingsley’s in Spain,” came Arthur’s voice from the doorway. “Meeting with Spain’s Minister. He’s coming back early tomorrow so he can be here before the full moon. We’re drafting interim orders to pass tomorrow morning. There’s an emergency session of the Wizengamot and Kingsley plans to have it all in place before Brown can act.”

“But what does this Brown fellow want?” he asked. “Why is he doing this exactly?” Arthur sat down opposite him.

“You know his niece, Lavender, who was attacked by Greyback at … on that day,” Arthur stumbled slightly. “She wasn’t hurt at all but he scared her pretty badly and she’s been having some pretty bad reactions during the Full Moon thinking that he’s going to come and get her as a full werewolf this time.”

“So Brown thinks if he locks up anyone who’s got any sort of vague connection to a werewolf …” Harry trailed off.

“Why can’t we just tell Lavender that Greyback’s locked up and can’t hurt her?” asked Ron.

“Because he isn’t and she knows it,” answered Bill quietly. Harry looked up at him in shock. “He got away. They thought they had him but …” he shook his head.

“So how is locking up anyone who’s been breathed on by a werewolf going to help?” asked Harry sarcastically.

“I think people are just afraid, Harry,” said Arthur softly. “Brown thinks it’s safer to regulate werewolf influences if he has control over them.”

“Well no one is taking Teddy,” said Harry fiercely. “You shouldn’t take babies away from people who love them - from their family.” He didn’t even bother to leave the house before he Apparated straight into Andromeda’s front parlour. He knew it was bad manners but he didn’t care too much for manners just then.

Andromeda was sitting in a worn rocking chair near the window; Teddy curled up in her arms, staring up at the moon. She gave a startled squeak when Harry arrived suddenly in the middle of the room.

“I wondered when you would come,” she said as she stood up carefully, trying not to jostle the baby in her arms. She didn’t seem upset that he had barged his way in or that he had shown up unannounced. Andromeda crossed the room and stood in front of Harry with her grandson in her arms.

“I — I’m sorry,” Harry whispered as he gazed down at the tuft of turquoise hair that poked out from the top of Teddy’s blanket. “I should have … I needed to see him.” Andromeda nodded and reached out to put the baby in Harry’s arms. She patted his shoulder as she walked out of the room.

Harry sank into the rocking chair and settled Teddy on his chest. Teddy let out a shuddering little sigh in his sleep and cuddled into Harry’s jumper. The tuft of hair on his head turned black and Harry smiled as he ran a finger softly over the fuzzy head. He knows I’m here, thought Harry. He knows it’s me.

******************

Harry woke to find himself draped in a blanket. The curtains had been drawn and most of the candles had been snuffed out. The fire glowed softly in the grate behind the fireguard. Teddy was gone but a soft light beckoned Harry towards the kitchen where he found Andromeda rocking Teddy as Kreacher prepared a bottle.

Harry watched for a while as a purple haired Teddy raised a pudgy little hand to grab Andromeda’s nose and play with her lips as she sang him a gentle song. Teddy smiled a toothless gummy grin and let out a little squeal before turning his hair black. Andromeda laughed and turned to look at Harry.

“Good evening Sleeping Beauty,” she said. Harry smiled sheepishly and reached out to grasp Teddy’s hand which went straight into the baby’s mouth.

“Ouch!” he yelped. Andromeda laughed.

“There’s a tooth in there somewhere,” she said, “ready to break through. He’s been a little unsettled.” Harry held out his hands and his godson lurched towards him. His grandmother surrendered him and Harry took a moment to kiss his soft baby skin and hold him close. Fat little fingers grabbed at his hair and a drooling, slobbery mouth latched onto his chin. Harry grimaced slightly before pulling Teddy away. The baby lunged for Harry’s robes, grasping a fistful and chewing on it urgently.

“Poor little thing,” said Andromeda. “He’s chewing everything, stopped sleeping through the night. It’s hard to tell when he needs pain relief; he can’t tell me when the potion’s wearing off. All I can do is hold him.” She reached out to stroke his downy head as Teddy twisted in Harry’s grasp, on fist stuffed in his mouth and drool dripping from it like long silky tendrils.

“Master Teddy is wanting his bottle,” said Kreacher suddenly.

“Can I give it to him?” asked Harry.

“Oh would you?” Andromeda exclaimed. “He’s been so fussy lately. I spend all my time holding him and it would be a lovely break.” Harry settled into a chair and took the bottle Kreacher held out to him. Teddy took it eagerly and Harry suddenly felt an overwhelming gratitude for Andromeda, who cared for Teddy so carefully, so completely. His throat closed up and his eyes stung with tears.

“Thank you,” he sad through the fog of emotion, “thank you for taking care of Teddy; for loving him.”

“How could I do anything else?” asked Andromeda softly.

“Not everyone would,” was all Harry said as he watched Teddy’s fingers curl around his own. The baby’s eyes fluttered shut as he suckled and Harry pressed another kiss to his soft baby skin.

“They’re not taking him away,’ Andromeda said suddenly. “I won’t let him be raised by people who don’t care, who are afraid of him or who won’t treat him the way Remus and Dora would have.” Harry looked up at her. His own childhood ran like a silent film in front of him. He shook his head to rid himself of the images.

“If something happens to me,” said Andromeda, clutching his arm tightly, “please look after Teddy. You have to. He needs to be loved, he needs a family.” Harry nodded.

“They won’t get away with this,” he said as he removed the empty bottle and stroked the cheek of the sleeping baby. “This sort of prejudice can’t go on. I’m going to the Ministry tomorrow. No one is taking my godson away from you. They are not taking him away from his family.”

“You’re his family too,” said Andromeda softly. Harry smiled.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I think he’s asleep.”

“I’ll put him to bed,” said Andromeda carefully taking the sleeping infant from Harry’s arms. “Hopefully he’ll sleep for a few hours.”

“Can I come back tomorrow?” blurted Harry suddenly, feeling bereft.

“You don’t have to ask, Harry,” she said. “You don’t have to ask.”
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