The Burrow, March 5th 1998
"Bloody fuck!" I yell in surprise, spinning around and burying my face into my palms.
"H-Harry!" Hermione shrieks. "Oh, Merlin! No. No, no, no…"
There's a loud thump, and then, "What the –"
" – What are you doing?!" I wheeze, trying to force the images away from my mind, while hoping that the fireplace will swallow me.
"What do you think, mate?!" Ron growls menacingly.
"It's Thursday!" I hiss, to my defence.
Silence.
Then, "Shit." Ron mutters.
"I'm – I'm – gonna, um – wait outside," I croak, decidedly keeping my eyes as closed as possible, as I stumble through the Burrow sitting room, ending up in the kitchen without tripping down, and throw myself hastily outside.
A great shudder wracks through me. I've just seen my best friends…shagging.
I feel slightly nauseated, and somehow…dirty.
The door opens moments later. Ron clears his throat behind me. "So…Is there any way we could, um…forget that…that happened…?" He asks, a grimace in his voice.
I turn to give him a pained look. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have come!"
Ron nods hastily. "Yeah, I know. We must've –" he mutters, waving his hand towards the house, "got the dates mixed," he says, giving me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, mate."
Hermione joins us after a while, and at first, it is somewhat uncomfortable, to look at each other in the eye, but as we go back inside and Ron starts to read Ginny's latest letter, the incident is quickly forgotten.
"She did what?" I ask, in disbelief, as Ron reads how Ginny and Charlie had gone to see a local Quidditch match, and after the match, she'd had the nerve to ask one of the players if she could try their broom. And they'd bloody well agreed!
Hermione smiles as she busies herself in the kitchen, making us tea, while Ron reads the rest of the letter, giving Mrs. Weasley's best to all of us.
Mrs. Weasley was fully recovered, over a month ago. Then, as she returned home, and saw that everything there reminded her of her late husband, she decided to visit Charlie, who had to return back to Romania for good, taking Ginny with her.
And Ginny could've stayed here, with Bill, Percy, the twins and Ron to look after her, but even with knowing that she wouldn't be seeing her friends or boyfriend in months, Ginny agreed to go with her mother. She told Ron, Hermione and me that she needed a change of a scenery, and with Hogwarts still under restoration, she didn't need to be in Britain. She told us that what she needed, was to start healing, somewhere that didn't remind her of what she had lost.
That left the Burrow empty for a while; the twins have their own apartment upstairs to their shop; Percy decided to stay at Hogwarts, and Bill apparently got a place with Fleur. Ron thought of it for a while, even spoke to me about it, before he asked Hermione to move in and to 'watch the house' with him.
I smirk inwardly, as both of them are still acting like they're not actually living together, but merely 'watching the house', until Mrs. Weasley and Ginny will return.
"Have you thought about going back to school?" Hermione asks after flicking her wand and levitating three teacups and a tray of sandwiches on the table.
Ron groans quietly. "It's only the beginning of March, 'Mione!" he says with exasperation. "And now that Perce's gonna be teaching there…I dunno if I wanna go back…" He says and gives me a grimace.
Percy wrote to Ron the other week, informing that he had been offered a teaching position at Hogwarts, as the new Transfigurations Professor – which he had accepted.
"But," Ron adds after glancing at her stern expression. "I suppose I'll go if you go…?"
Hermione narrows her eyes at him. "You should go for yourself, and your education, for your future," she says firmly.
Ron arches a brow at her. "I have a feeling that our school grades don't really matter, whatever we'll do after school," he mutters, before munching down a sandwich in two bites.
Hermione purses her lips, but we all know Ron's right. They've both been offered junior level positions in the Ministry. And even my Auror Trainee programme was shortened to one year, instead of three.
"Well, I'm not going," I mutter, taking a sip of my tea. "Training lasts until the end of this year, and then…I suppose I'll join the Aurors," I say with a small shrug.
Hermione gives me a studying look. "Is that what you really want, Harry?"
I think about it – I've been thinking about it quite a lot – and nod at her. "Yeah. I wanna be an Auror."
The training has been both brutal and very tiresome so far. Some days there's ten hours nothing but combat training, duelling, practicing hexes and jinxes, and their counter-curses. Other days are dedicated to brewing different potions, recognising various poisons, as well as learning how to track and how to be stealthy. And then there are days that are spent in the office, my nose attached to a book.
And I wouldn't trade it away for anything.
Grimmauld Place, March 6th 1998
Everyone – who could make it, at least – has gathered at Grimmauld Place for Remus's birthday party, held some days before the actual date, as the full moon will be too close to it.
Hermione and Andromeda have prepared a large cake, while Sirius and the twins went somewhat overboard with decorations; making the house unrecognisable with bright coloured banners hanging in every corner, with bunches of balloons placed here and there, all with either 'Happy' or 'Birthday' inscribed in them, and with fairy-lights flickering in every dark spot. There're even golden confetti flickering down from the ceiling, disappearing before hitting anyone, and not making a mess.
"Impressive," Regulus mutters behind me, his eyes surveying the room.
I glance at him, and then my eyes drop downwards, and I grin widely. "Hey, Teddy," I greet the baby in Regulus's arms, who, I think, has recognised me.
Teddy watches me calmly, his tuft of hair flickering from brown to a black one. I smirk at Regulus, who narrows his eyes at me.
"It doesn't mean anything," he says darkly.
I let out a quiet snort. Ever since Teddy was a month old, he's been giving some form of reaction when seeing me.
I lift my hands up in surrender. "Just saying…" I mutter, giving him a pointed look.
Regulus scowls at me half-heartedly, knowing fully well that this whole thing is me taking the piss out of him – something I've been doing for several weeks, whenever we are in Remus's and Teddy's company.
It started after Remus told me that they – Tonks and him – had been thinking of whom to ask to be Teddy's godfather; Regulus or me. And even though Remus had said that it had been Tonks's idea to ask me, he and I both agreed it should be Regulus. He's much closer to Remus, and was closer to Tonks than I was.
So, Remus asked Regulus to be Teddy's godfather, and here he is now, holding his godson, protectively, carefully, all the while trying so hard to look indifferent.
"You seem to be pretty good with babies," I tell him, teasingly.
Regulus arches a brow at me. "A baby." He corrects, and then, his eyes are fixated at the seating area, where a burst of laughter is erupted.
Sirius, laughing with Remus, and…Andromeda.
I frown at the group. "I think I've never heard her laugh before," I murmur to Regulus. "She sounds like – like Tonks."
Regulus's smile becomes strained. "Sirius…" He mutters, watching his brother with a contemplative look.
"Hmm?" I ask, giving him a curious look.
"My brother and my cousin…they were close when they were younger," Regulus says, moving his focus back to me.
I frown at him. "Close? Like…close?" I ask quietly, taking a step towards him.
Regulus's lips twitch, as he glances at his brother again. "He certainly wished," He says, almost silently, before clearing his throat and looking at me. "I believe they were merely close friends, due to their similar beliefs and experiences."
"Weren't you at Hogwarts at the same time?" I ask him, trying to remember if Sirius or Regulus ever mentioned it.
Regulus eyes his brother and cousin with a thoughtful look in his eyes. "Yes. When I started at Hogwarts, Sirius went to his second year, and Andromeda to her last. I believe she got together with her late husband during her last year."
"Was she disowned then?" I ask, glancing too at the group on the other side of the room.
Regulus huffs lightly. "For dating a Muggle-born?" He asks, arching a brow at me. "Unlikely. However, the said Muggle-born did manage to impregnate her during their final school year, which was not taken as lightly."
"Oh." I breathe, looking at Andromeda. So…Tonks had been born right after Andromeda had graduated, and because of that, she had been disowned by her family. But Sirius had still seen her. I remember him telling me once that Andromeda was his favourite cousin. He must've continued seeing her and her family, even after she was disowned. I mention this to Regulus, and he nods in agreement.
"He did. I spoke rarely to my brother after he…left home –" Regulus says, a small frown between his brows. "– but I presume he kept seeing her until…"
"Until he was taken to Azkaban," I continue, and Regulus gives me a small nod.
I look at him, trying to picture him and Sirius at Hogwarts, craving to hear the stories what it had been like for them, wanting to know more. I wonder how close the two brothers had been before they had started at Hogwarts. I wonder, had they still spent time together before Sirius had run off from home, regardless of belonging to different houses…Had Regulus had other friends besides Snape? Had they all been future Death Eaters? Had he dated anyone?
I look at him, somewhat struck by the look in his eyes, which feels even more intense when standing closer to him. I let my gaze move over his face, taking in all the details; the angular and sharp features; the deep, dark grey eyes, framed by thick, black eyelashes; and smooth lips that I long to feel against mine.
"Potter…" Regulus says warningly.
I blink at him. "Hmm?"
Regulus gives me a tight look. "We are in a company," He says with a low voice.
Both of us move to look ahead, as Fred and George approach us a second later.
"If it isn't the lovebirds," George says with a quiet voice to his brother, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"George," I grit through my teeth, looking quickly around, praying that no one has heard.
Fred sniggers, clapping me on my shoulder. "Not to worry, Harry, we only came to say goodnight," he says with a wink. "Business calls early in the morning."
The brothers say goodnight to us and Teddy, before turning away, towards the fireplace.
Fred turns around in the middle of the room, gathering everyone's eye. "Oh, and our dear brother wanted to give you a handy trick of closing one's floo – something he himself hasn't yet maste– OUCH!" Fred yelps in mid-sentence, as Ron sends a jet of red sparks that hit Fred straight on his backside.
There's laughter, Ron's face is completely red, and the twins disappear through the fireplace.
Regulus gives me a strange look, before turning his focus on Teddy. "I think this one is ready to turn in."
I look at Teddy, who is indeed peacefully sleeping, even with the commotion in the room.
"I agree." Andromeda voices close to us, her sharp look – knowing look – moving over my face, before she turns it to her cousin.
I feel slightly flustered, instantly wondering how long she has stood there; what she has heard and seen…
Regulus hands Teddy to Andromeda, their eyes locked, watching the other expressionlessly. Andromeda then gives Regulus and me a wide smile, before saying good night, and walking up to Lupin. Lupin embraces his son, before letting Andromeda to leave with the infant towards her home.
Lupin then sits down with Sirius, and they exchange some words, before Sirius glances at us. There's something in his gaze that makes me feel unnerved. A second later Sirius is again deep in discussion with Lupin.
"I should…go talk to Ron and Hermione," I mutter to Regulus, who seems equally distracted by his brother.
"Yes. I – we'll talk later." He grunts, and then walks off to greet Bill, Fleur and Kingsley.
"Hey," Potter mutters, stepping into the library. I greet him back, before placing my glass of Firewhiskey down at the table.
It must be close to two in the morning, some time after the last of the guests – Lupin – left to his home. Andromeda took Edward home earlier in the evening, urging Lupin to stay and enjoy his party. And so he did, I presume. He and my brother proceeded to empty the liquor cabinet in the kitchen after Lupin's other guests left, accompanied by Potter, it seems.
Potter walks towards the seating area, and slumps down next to me, letting out a deep sigh. He's sitting very close to me, and reeking of whiskey.
"How much did you drink?" I ask quietly, giving him a scrutinising look.
Potter shrugs, watching me with an easy smile. "Does it matter?"
I grunt in disagreement, taking my glass from the table and taking a sip. "Take some Sober-Up before you go to sleep. Or you'll wish you did, in the morning."
"Spoken like someone who has regrets…" He says, arching a brow at me in question.
I let out a small huff. "Which I trust you know of, already."
Potter watches me closely. "Not all of them," he says pointedly.
I watch him with a studying look. "If you are now referring to any regrets related to drinking, I have some, that mostly are about unwanted physical effects after drinking too much."
Potter nods slowly. "And those that are not?"
I give Potter a long look. "Are you trying to find out if there has been anyone – a woman – involved in those 'regrets'?" I ask, wondering why is he asking me such a thing. I am not my brother, who I believe has experienced such incidents with different women.
"Yeah." Potter says simply, giving me a searching look.
"No." I tell him tightly, looking away, and downing my drink. "My regrets have never been about a woman."
There's a short silence. "Sirius?" Potter then asks quietly.
I let out a long sigh, watching the fireplace, where the fire is almost out, but the embers are still glowing red. "Yes."
Potter's hand covers mine, squeezing my hand. "He's back now."
I give him a wry smile. "All thanks to the Saviour."
Potter rolls his eyes, groaning. "Stop. I hate that."
"What? Being the Chosen Boy?" I ask, stifling a smirk.
Potter's grip in my hand tightens. "Man," He says, scowling at me.
I arch a brow at him. "You might be of age, Potter, but that doesn't necessarily mean you are a man."
Potter huffs, shaking his head. "That's…bollocks," he grunts, looking away. "After all I've done, I'd expect people to think of me as something else than a boy."
"Is that what you want? To be taken seriously? To be respected? To be regarded as an adult?" I ask, watching him closely, knowing that I haven't given him what he wishes. I haven't considered him as an adult, but a boy who needs to be protected.
Potter gives me a long look. "Is that too much to ask?"
"No." I tell him seriously. "It is not."
Potter nods slowly, leaning closer to me. "Good," he says, his eyes at my lips, a darkened look in them. "Because I think I'd like to tell you, what I wished I'd do, every morning. Sober-up or not," he murmurs, resuming back to the start of the discussion. He gives me an intense look, and a delightful shiver runs down my spine.
"I might have an adequate presumption," I tell him, my voice tight.
Potter's bright green eyes drop to my lips again, and then, he fucking licks his own.
And all of the sudden, there's a strong urge inside me, to lunge at him, to – to make him stay in place as I devour him. A shaky breath escapes from my throat, as Potter's fingertips brush my thigh.
"Potter…" I warn him, knowing that my brother could walk in any moment.
Potter shakes his head. "He's sleeping. Trust me. I listened, before I came here…" He moves his hand upwards, and fuck, I want to jump on him.
But it seems, that Potter is faster, as, in a swift, fluid motion, he's halfway over my lap, his leg between mine, his thigh pressing against my cock, while his lips capture mine in a searing kiss.
A stuttering gasp leaves my throat, as Potter pulls back slightly, only to change the angle and press his lips once more against mine.
We kiss, passionately, our gasps and groans and the wet noises from our lips sucking each other filling the silence in the room. My fingers tangle into Potter's messy hair, tugging it lightly, drawing out grunts from him, making him shiver, making him writhe and push himself against me, his hips eagerly grinding against mine.
"Fuck, Potter –" I groan, as a delicious mix of excitement and desire crashes over me.
Potter nods quickly, his lips moving lower, until they latch on to my neck; kissing, sucking, licking. "Y-Yeah. Yeah. We should do that."
I'm momentarily breathless, as if Potter has punched me in the stomach, but instead, my insides are filled by another wave of heat and desire and…inexplicable need to have him, to touch him, to ravish him…
I let out another groan, my head dropping to the backrest of the sofa, as Potter continues his ministrations; kissing and sucking my neck in the most feverish manner, while his hips keep rolling unsteadily against mine.
Then, I see something in the corner of my eye – movement. I turn to glance towards the door to the library, and jerk violently, causing Potter to dislodge himself from my lap to the floor with a sharp grunt and a loud thud, but I can't let myself to look back at Potter, to apologise him, since all I can see is a pair of furious grey eyes, in a face which expression can only be described as outrage.
" – What th– " Potter mutters, glancing up at me, but I can't hear the rest of Potter's complaints, as his words drown under my brother's scream of rage.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING IN HERE?!" Sirius bellows, still standing rigidly at the doorway, panting slightly.
There's a shocked silence, as both Potter and I gape at my brother.
Sirius shakes his head, staring at us with an unbelieving look, as if trying to figure out if his eyes have betrayed him. A moment later, he seems to come to the conclusion that yes, what he saw, happened, as he continues with a growl, "One of you fucking better explain. Right now!"
Potter stands up slowly from the floor, looking horrified, and at the same time – I cringe as I realise it – utterly debauched. He trails a shaky hand through his messy hair, that stands out even more than usual, and swallows convulsively, evidently trying to figure out what to say. Potter gives me a helpless look, and then turns his shocked gaze back to my brother.
And my brother, on the other hand, is now shaking, looking like he's on the verge of losing his composure. Knowing how this could end, I quickly clear my throat and stand up, surreptitiously smoothing down my rumpled robes as move towards him.
"Sirius…"
Sirius's hand twitches, and I realise that he's holding his wand. My eyes track his fingers, and how his knuckles whiten against the wood.
"What the fuck, Reggie?!" Sirius hisses, his eyes blazing in anger. "What the fuck are you doing with my godson?!"
Potter too takes a step towards my brother. "Sirius, I can explain – "
" – Potter." I grit through my teeth, hoping that the tone of my voice is enough for him to realise to shut the fuck up.
Sirius's eyes do not move away from me, but they are scrutinising me, searching for something.
"Legilimens."
"Fuck! – No – wait!" I yell, but Sirius is already delving into my mind, before I have the chance to put up any walls and push him out.
"Aaah!" I gasp in discomfort, as Sirius moves brutally through a handful of memories regarding Potter, many of which include my bedroom. I finally manage to force my brother away, by lifting up the defences of my unsuspecting mind, and before I can even blink, Sirius's fist collides with my face, making waves of pain, sharp as knives, slash through my head, making me crash to the floor on my back.
For a moment, everything is blurry, before the room swims back into focus. I blink, and see Potter, stumbling towards my brother.
"Sirius STOP!" Potter yells, and what I can see through the blood splattering to my eyes from my split brow, is that Potter is standing in front of him, holding him in place.
I push up to sit on the floor, and see my brother panting, his eyes moving between Potter and me.
"You – You – " Sirius croaks, shaking his head slightly.
"We're together," Potter states hastily, his voice wavering slightly.
Sirius gapes at him.
Brilliant, Potter.
I stand up, as my brother huffs out a sound, that's something between incredulous and amused. He disentangles himself from Potter's grip, and starts to pace in front of him.
"Fucking…mad…together…my – and my – fuck –" he mumbles, glaring at us every now and then. "I need a bloody drink for this," he grunts, and, shaking his head, he walks to the seating area, moving firmly past the sofa and to the farthest armchair there is. He then proceeds to summon a Firewhiskey bottle straight from the pantry downstairs, instead of summoning Kreacher to serve him.
Sirius breathes heavily, staring at the table in front of him, clenching his jaw. Potter and I exchange a quick, grim look, as we wait for the bottle, which soon soars through the air, and by a miracle, is still intact.
As my brother takes a long swig, straight from the bottle, I murmur a quick healing charm, and with a flick of my wand, my brow is healed. The swelling and bruising however, require a paste – something I have to retrieve later. I stand in place, waiting for my brother to speak, to react, knowing that this is not over yet.
"Sit." Sirius says darkly, nodding his head towards the sofa, where Potter and I were only moments ago. "Explain."
Potter and I take our seats, facing him, facing the expressionless face of my brother's.
"You're together?" He asks from Potter. "What the hell does that mean?"
Potter cringes, and then clears his throat. "Um. We…um. A relationship," Potter says faintly, and I'm a bit surprised he has managed to say the word aloud. However, I am somewhat proud of him.
After all, he has just informed Sirius that his brother and godson are in a relationship.
My brother, who is known for his protectiveness and quick temper. Sirius's expression gives nothing away, but he stares at Potter intently, before glancing at me. "How long?"
"For a year," I tell my brother, and Sirius's eyes narrow slightly.
"So…you've lied to me, for a year?" Sirius asks threateningly.
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes at him. "What was the point?" I ask, giving him an unimpressed expression. "Why torment you more than you were already bearing?"
"You should've told me," He grunts, before taking a hefty swig from the Firewhiskey bottle.
I watch him calmly. "You know now," I say, silently asking, what he's going to do about it.
Sirius hums under his breath, eyeing Potter with a contemplative look. "Why my brother?" He asks mutedly.
Potter glances at me from the corner of his eye, a strained expression on his face. "Um…"
Sirius's gaze hardens. "You love him, then?" He asks, still an intimidating hint in his voice.
Potter huffs a shocked breath, and I stare at my brother, completely taken aback. Why the hell would it matter?
"Well?" Sirius presses, his expression blank, but his eyes glinting dangerously.
Potter stammers incoherently for a bit, before he replies. "Y-Yes."
I can feel my brows rising, as my gaze is drawn to him. That's…well, something, I think, feeling dazed.
Sirius nods slowly, looking away, chewing the inside of his cheek, contemplating Potter's words.
"And does he love you back?" Sirius asks suddenly, his sharp eyes trained at Potter.
I give my brother the most disbelieving look I am capable of.
Potter stiffens next to me, before clearing his throat. "Y – I think so. Yeah."
My brother fixes me a long look, and I hold his gaze, glaring at him, for forcing both Potter and me into this…unbearable uncomfortableness.
After a long moment, he nods again. "Okay. Fine." He says simply, a scrutinising look in his eyes.
"What?" I hiss, irritated and bewildered.
Sirius arches a brow at me, his eyes darkening. "It means fine; you can date my godson," he growls, and then gives me a warning look; a look that promises pain and suffering if I somehow fuck it up.
My brother leaves after a tense silence, muttering something about our cousin, which makes me suspect that it was Andromeda, who had said something about Potter and me to my brother.
"That was…the weirdest, the most terrifying discussion I've ever had." Potter mutters faintly, staring at the coffee table with a horrified look.
I let out a long breath. "Yeah." I watch Potter, his previous words echoing in my head.
He turns to look at me, a small frown between his brows, his eyes trained at the evident swelling above my eye. "You look like shit."
I let out a quiet snort, a grin spreading across my face, and even though the movement makes one side of my face sting unpleasantly, I don't want to stop.
Grimmauld Place, March 27th 1998
I open the kitchen door, and the delightful smell of breakfast instantly fills my nose. The table is set, by trays of food. Regulus is at the counter, his back to the door, in the process of making tea – which is something he rarely does by himself, instead of asking it from Kreacher.
A small grin spreads across my face as I take a look at him; his slightly messy hair, and the short-sleeved shirt and pyjama bottoms he's wearing. An attire that is quite unusual for him. I'm not sure if I've ever seen him in the kitchen and not wearing his pressed slacks and oxford shirt.
It's been too long since I've seen him like this; like he's just woken up. I wonder if the last time was two weeks ago, when Sirius was away for the full moon? The mere thought of the night and the next morning makes pleasant waves of warmth run down my body, makes my pulse racing.
"Quit staring, Potter," Regulus mutters, glancing at me over his shoulder.
I give him a small smirk, and walk up to him, pressing my front against his back. "Good morning," I murmur, taking a hold of his hips as I press a kiss against his neck.
"Good morning," he says steadily, keeping his gaze at the teapot. "Tea?"
"Yes please," I say, and lift a hand to trace my fingers against the marred skin on his left forearm – where there's still an area of fading ink, the tattoo deformed long before Voldemort died.
Regulus lets out a weary sound, and as I look at him, I notice there's certain tightness in his features, which probably means that something is bothering him.
"What is it?" I ask quietly, moving to his side, to lean against the counter, keeping my eyes trained at his face.
He gives me a strained smile. "Nothing for you to worry about. Had a bad night," He mutters, moving his gaze away.
His knuckles are white against the dark wooden counter.
I frown at him, wondering how bad they were – his nightmares. And how regular he has them? We both know I had them, after the war. And it did a lot, that we could talk them through during the night as we slept next to each other. Now, we don't.
Knowing that Sirius can walk in to the room any moment – but not really caring a bit, at least not now – I cover his hand, and pull it away from the counter, forcing him to turn towards me, and then proceed to wrap my arms around him, enveloping him into a tight embrace.
A long sigh of relief leaves from Regulus's lungs.
"Tell me about it," I say against his shoulder, still holding him tightly.
I feel his stiff posture slowly relaxing. And he tells me; how his own memories had haunted him throughout the night; memories of him killing and torturing, him serving blindly. I listen quietly, and then, I remind him how he has changed, and while he can't erase of what happened, he has done good – and he can still decide to do good, and do the right thing.
After a long silence, I slide my hands behind his neck, and pull him gently to meet my lips in a soft kiss. We kiss for a long, unhurried moment, still leaning against the counter, but without a pressing need, knowing that there will be a time for that later.
And as expected, Sirius soon comes barging in, looking even more dishevelled than his brother. The man grunts a greeting of sorts, not commenting at the obvious fact that his godson and his brother had been snogging until the moment he stepped into the kitchen. Sirius slips to sit at the table, hiding himself behind a cup of coffee and the morning's paper.
I lift my brows slightly at Regulus, before taking a seat opposite to Sirius.
"How are you?" I ask from my godfather, taking a sip of my tea before placing the cup on the table.
Sirius grunts behind the paper, before putting it down on the table. He looks tired. He glances at his brother. "I'm fine. You?" He asks, eyes moving between me and Regulus.
Both Regulus and I murmur our responses, and Sirius's eyes linger at his brother, before he tucks into a large plate of eggs and bacon.
As Regulus sits down next to me, Sirius gives me a searching look. "Know what day it is?" He asks quietly.
Of course, I know. However, I have the feeling it means more to my godfather than to me. "My dad's birthday."
Sirius nods, and then looks away, a deep frown between his brows. "Was wondering if you'd come with me," He says then, glancing at me. "To the cemetery."
I lift my brows at him. "Of course!" And then I remember, that the whole village was destroyed by Voldemort.
"What?" Sirius asks after seeing my hesitant look.
"The village. Harry saw it being destroyed." Regulus says quietly, looking at me with an expressionless look.
"What?!" Sirius repeats, staring at us with a horror-struck expression.
I grimace at Sirius, knowing I have many things still untold to him. "Um…you remember when I told you about the trip to Godric's Hollow? And how we did a narrow escape?"
Sirius arches a brow at me. "You mean the trip in which you got bitten by a snake and nearly died?" He asks, turning his sharp look at Regulus.
Regulus's jaw tightens, and he looks away.
"It's not his fault," I tell Sirius with a firm voice. "I wanted to go. Hermione and I agreed we'd go. Ron and Regulus…we pushed them into it."
Sirius lets out an exasperated huff, shaking his head slightly. "What about the village then? What happened there?"
I frown at the table, trying to recollect the vision I saw, during the days of my unconsciousness. "I saw into his mind. Voldemort's. I saw how enraged he was, after our escape. I saw him…blowing up the village." I mutter, grimacing at the horrified look on Sirius's face.
"It is possible that everything magical was left intact," Regulus comments to the silence.
Sirius sighs wearily, looking away from us, looking older and more burdened than I've seen him in a long time.
After a short silence, Sirius eyes me with an overcome and dejected look. "There's one way to find out, is there?"
Godric's Hollow, March 27th 1998
As we walk through the village, I am surprised to see it less destroyed than I thought. It seems, that the wizarding people living in it, have been helping the muggle villagers; restoring homes and shops all around the place.
Sirius and I only stop at the cottage – my old home, but do not enter. Sirius explains me that the place is protected by spells, mostly to keep Muggles away. There's a charm disguising the house, so that Muggles do not see a decaying cottage, but instead a small copse of trees, and a Muggle repelling charm to prevent them from entering. The cottage is still standing, after all these years, with a partly blown away roof, its walls covered in ivy and the grass outside waist-high.
It looks forgotten, but it is not. Many wizards and witches have visited the place. Many have left messages to the memorial sign. Sirius asks if I want to go in, to see the house from inside – apparently only I can do that, as I am the only blood-relative to James and Lily.
I don't. Not today, at least.
We continue our way towards the cemetery, stepping through an old kissing gate and finally, seeing rows upon rows of old tombstones. Sirius takes in a deep breath, and moves forward, evidently having been here before this day. I wonder, as we pass several headstones, how many times has my godfather been here?
Some of the names carved into the stones catch my eye, reminding me of someone I know, or someone I've heard of. There's spring in the air; vibrant bluebells carpet the woodland floor here and there, while tree and flower buds surround us and the cemetery.
Sirius slows down, and finally, we're there. Standing over my parents' graves.
There's heaviness in my heart, mixing up with excitement, dread, and…grief.
It's the first time I see it, and the stone – the tombstone over my parents' graves – has been here, sitting in the graveyard, for sixteen years. A stone of white marble, the black words engraved upon it clear and easy to read.
JAMES POTTER
BORN 27 MARCH 1960
DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981
LILY POTTER
BORN 30 JANUARY 1960
DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981
Seeing their names there, brings up all the feelings I've disregarded or tried to suppress; the grief of losing them. The unfairness of not knowing them, even though I should have. The anger towards Voldemort for taking them away from me, for taking away my childhood. The jealousy towards Sirius, because he had had time with them, and known them, like I should have known them. And worst of all, there's the small part of me, wishing I'd died with them.
I'm tired of asking why, why me, but at this moment, I can't think of anything else. A tear trickles down my face, followed by another one, and then another, until everything is blurred. And I let them fall, I let myself cry at the loss of my parents.
There's a hand over my shoulder, and only then I realise I'm silently weeping, that I'm shuddering, that I'm mourning. I'm mourning for my parents whom I never knew.
Sirius says nothing, but merely stands securely next to me, and holds me against him while soothing his hand against my arm. And I'm glad for that.
After a long moment, I take in a deep, calming breath and wipe my face against the backs of my hands. As I put my glasses back on, I finally read the message engraved under their names.
"'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'," I say quietly, speaking aloud the words carved in the stone. "What does that mean?" I ask, weakly.
Sirius is silent for a while, before he answers. "Living after death." He says quietly, his voice slightly thick with emotion. I feel his eyes at the side of my face, but I can't look back.
I stare at the message, feeling empty at the words, thinking, how they are gone, and unaware that their son is standing here, with his godfather, missing them, missing the life that could have been, had they not died the way they did.
Sirius squeezes me again, before dropping his hand and taking a step closer, kneeling over the grave.
I watch him, as he stares at the names on the stone, and as he lets out a long, shaky breath, before picking up a small bluebell flower close to him.
Sirius pulls out his wand and waves it over the flower, transfiguring it into a beautiful wreath, filled by red roses and white lilies.
"Happy birthday, Prongs," Sirius whispers, placing the wreath against the stone. "Harry and I are gonna be okay, mate."
I swallow against the tightness in my throat, blinking hard as Sirius stands up after a moment, and returns to stand next to me, pulling me close once more, reminding me that we're not alone. That we have each other.
And I have a feeling, my godfather is right.
We're gonna be okay.