The door swung open.
Harry stepped inside, his heart pounding so loudly he was surprised that Sirius and Remus couldn't hear it…or maybe they could.
He took two hesitant steps forward. The stairs were against the wall to his right, ascending upwards in a straight, steep line; wooden and bare, white paint peeling from the skirting boards and bannister. He placed a hand on the newel post and wondered if his father had ever placed a hand on it; his mother.
There was no hallway per se, just a few square foot of space which would have been used for a coat stand and a table. Harry pictured it so clearly that he wondered if it was a memory.
"Coat stand and table?" He asked quietly, gesturing to where they might have stood.
Sirius's grey eyes flashed with surprise. "Yes. Alice bought them a pine stand as a present when they moved in. It used to grab your coat from your back if you didn't hand it over straight away."
Remus cleared his throat. "You remember?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know," he said, "I just see it in my head and…"
"It might very well be a memory buried down in your subconscious." Sirius said. "Apart from a couple of months at Potter House, you lived here."
"Yes, babies do formulate and store memories as far as cognitive scientists can determine," Remus said, falling into his lecturing mode, "but they believe that the memories are encoded differently as babies are still developing speech, visual and auditory acuity and that's why we struggle to recall the memories as adults. Well, there are competing theories and…"
Harry stopped listening and moved into the main living area. The fireplace wall was whitewashed brick; the fire place itself empty, the grate blackened and dirty. There were a few sticks of wood in front on the hearth that might have been part of a basket of firewood once. It wasn't a large room; only space for a sofa and a chair, maybe a coffee table and a sideboard at the back. Again, Harry wondered how much of the picture in his head was his own imagining, and how much was an actual memory.
Sunlight streamed through the front windows and cast the pattern of the window frame on the carpeted floor. It was a monstrosity; purple and yellow flowers meandering in a curving circular pattern. It looked like something his Aunt Petunia might have liked.
He frowned at it heavily.
"Your Mum's choice." Sirius said, seeing the direction of his gaze. "She thought the flowers looked pretty."
Harry grimaced at the notion that his Mum had something in common with his Aunt – but then they had been sisters, raised together, and perhaps that might account for it.
"James hated it. He wanted this geometric pattern that was just as horrendous in truth." Remus commented dryly. "But he never could refuse your Mum anything."
"It was the 'eighties." Sirius demurred.
Harry's gaze caught on the dark streaks across the wall; spell damage from the battle his father had fought against Voldemort; fighting to save his family, to save his wife and child, to save Harry. His breath caught at the back of his throat and he had to hold onto his magic hard as it threatened to surge up in horrified realisation.
Sirius followed his gaze and made a choked sound. His eyes darted to the front of the room by the staircase and Harry knew; he knew that was where his Dad had fallen. He slid his hand into Sirius's.
Sirius gazed at him through a film of tears but managed a small smile. He pointed at the door to the back with his free hand. "Shall we go through to the dining room?"
"Which is a grand title for what is a little cubby hole of a room." Remus said as they all made for the door.
Harry drew in a shaky breath as he entered. It was a tiny space, barely the size of his old bedroom back at Privet Drive. It would fit a dining table and some chairs but nothing more.
"They had this really large table that they crammed in here because Lily wanted to be able to entertain." Sirius remembered fondly, a chuckle escaping and driving back the tears Harry suspected had been threatening.
"They had us all round for dinner the first week, the Marauders, Frank and Alice, a couple of other friends of your Mum's, and nobody could move." Remus shook his head. "We all ended up laughing even your Mum and…I don't think it was ever used after that."
Sirius nudged Harry through the door to the kitchen. "This was really the heart of the home."
The kitchen was a good size in comparison to the cottage sized living and dining areas. It held an array of pine cupboards to the right, around an old Aga, and an empty space to the left where Harry guessed a table and chairs would have been placed.
"They had James's old sofa from the flat in London Street along this wall." Remus wandered over and splayed out his arms. "Just here. Merlin, it looked horrible."
"It was really comfy that sofa," grumbled Sirius, "all soft and squishy and…"
"Orange." Remus finished.
Harry felt his mood lighten with the banter.
"Your Mum hated it." Remus informed him in a conspiratorial tone.
"James and I had to sneak the damn thing in when she was out." Sirius reminisced. "Her face when she came back and found us both asleep on it…"
"Why'd she keep it?" Harry had gotten the sense that his Mum had been in charge of the decorating from what had been said before.
"Because she loved James as much as she hated the sofa." Sirius said simply. "And he had told me, well…" he went slightly red, "he told me that there was a real possibility that while they'd been waiting for me one time at the flat, you'd been, uh, conceived…"
Harry's hands flew to his ears. "Too much information!" He barked.
"I agree with Harry." Remus said, stepping back hurriedly as though the sofa was still in the room with them.
Sirius shrugged. "Well, let's just say I was much less interested in keeping it in the flat when he told me."
"And yet you fell asleep on it." Remus pointed out, poking Sirius with a long finger.
"It was bloody hard work moving the thing, Moony." Sirius rubbed his arm and pouted.
Harry wandered over to the kitchen window above the sink. His Mum had probably stood in the same spot, he mused with delighted awe. She'd probably washed dishes and looked out at the…at the very overgrown and untidy garden?
He frowned. It was a mess but he guessed it had been different back then. "Can we go upstairs?" He asked without turning around. In the window he saw Remus and Sirius exchange a look.
"The damage is worse upstairs." Remus said almost hesitantly. "Are you sure you want to look?"
Harry nodded and they filed back through the house to the stairs. The landing was small, a maroon and gold carpet covering it and disappearing into every room. It was marginally better than the carpet in the living room, Harry decided.
"This was my room." Sirius tapped open the first door in front of them.
"The guest room." Remus corrected.
Sirius raised an eyebrow at him.
"Right, your room." Remus conceded with a sigh.
"I was injured!" Sirius said brightly. "I needed help walking and stuff." He motioned at Harry. "There was a single bed, a bedside table and an old wardrobe. Nothing else would fit. But it was cosy."
"How long did you live here?" asked Harry, curious at the wistful nostalgia in Sirius's voice, the faraway memories that glimmered in his eyes.
"Well, I was released from the hospital beginning of July, stayed put after your Granddad died and your folks moved to Potter House with you in the Winter, and didn't return to London Street until your parents moved back in here to hide." Sirius listed out matter-of-factly. "It was awkward sometimes with all of us here, I won't deny that. I mean your Mum and Dad loved me and I loved them, but they were a couple and things…well, let's just say it wasn't fun when they'd had an argument especially about something, and I had to have breakfast with them. But we muddled along and I think they were grateful for an extra pair of hands when you were born."
Harry slipped out of the room and into the next which turned out to be a tiny old style bathroom with a clawed-foot bathtub, a square sink and a water-heater in a cupboard. An old-fashioned loo with a cistern up high and a dangling metal chain to use to flush the toilet was in the next small room beside it.
He meandered into the next room which was obviously his parents' bedroom; it was large with a fireplace and he could see the alcoves had been turned into built-in wardrobes. He ambled over to the window and looked down at the front garden.
"I wasn't allowed in here." Sirius said from the doorway. "Your Mum's rule. Neither were you for that matter. She was quite strict that bedrooms were private spaces and you had your own room and so you wouldn't be in theirs."
Another similarity that sent a shudder through Harry since his Aunt Petunia had been the same about hers and Vernon's room – even with Dudley. Maybe it was something Harry's maternal grandparents had instituted, Harry thought wonderingly.
"My room?" Harry questioned.
Sirius gestured for him to follow. Remus hung back near to the staircase and Harry understood when he stepped inside the final room.
It was about the same size as the room Sirius had used and there wasn't a great deal of space but it would have been large as a nursery with only a rocking chair, a cot and a dresser for clothes. The damage was evident; the cracks in the inner wall and one outer wall missing completely.
His gaze caught on the mural.
He headed over to it and a flash of how it would look through the bars of a cot zipped through his head so fast that he almost staggered. And another image on the heels of the first lodged in his mind's eye; his mother in front of his cot, her back to him as she defended him against the shadowy figure in the doorway…
"Not Harry! Please…have mercy!"
He stopped abruptly, breathing heavily and feeling his magic surge to simmer at the surface.
"Harry." Sirius murmured.
And Harry simply turned and buried his head in Sirius's shoulder as though he could hide there from his memories. Harry's eyes were dry as he sobbed, trying to catch his breath, to breathe past the pain and the horror that they were in the room where his Mum had died saving him…where he had destroyed Voldemort's body in return…
Sirius hugged Harry to him, his arms strong and tight around Harry's back. "It's alright, Pronglet." He said softly. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
Harry didn't protest.
They stumbled down the stairs with Sirius's arm locked around him and a moment later, they were out of the house and standing outside of the front garden, breathing in gulps of fresh air as the skies opened up and the rain started to pitter-patter down.
Remus erected an impermeable charm over them, keeping them dry. He looked up at the grey sky doubtfully. "Do you still want to do the cemet…"
"Yes." Harry cut him off rudely and flushed. "Sorry…just…I need to do this. Please."
"Then we'll do it." Sirius agreed soothingly.
The walk to the cemetery was short, down the lane and back through the village square. Sirius cast a notice-them-not charm to keep anyone from looking too closely at them but in truth Harry didn't see anyone on their walk through the sleepy streets.
The graveyard was fenced in with some kind of prickly hedge with an old kissing gate allowing entry from the street rather than the side entrance from the church driveway.
Harry and Sirius followed Remus through the meandering pathways of tombstones. Harry's gaze took in the names on some of the tombstones with interest. There was an Abbott, a Corner and a Goyle. He almost stumbled at the sight of a Dumbledore.
So many names he recognised, he mused. If he had lived in the village, would he have made friends with other kids? Had siblings? Not for the first time, the weight of his loss, the life he could have had, pressed down on him. He kept walking though, his focus on getting to see his parents' grave for the first time.
"Here." Remus said. He brushed some dead leaves from the top of the tombstone.
Harry's heart seized in his chest as he read his parents' dates of birth. He hadn't known his Mum was older than his Dad – only by a couple of months but…her birthday was January.
"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death."
He read the inscription with a growing scowl. "Who the hell came up with that?" He pointed at the words.
"The Headmaster." Remus answered grimly. "He arranged everything."
"It sounds so Death Eater-ish." Harry complained, pushing his glasses up his nose. It wasn't what he wanted on his parents' tombstone that was for certain.
"Bible." Remus replied. "Corinthians, I think."
Like Harry would know what that meant.
And suddenly, he realised Sirius had been silent since they'd stopped.
Harry's eyes immediately went to check on Padfoot. His heart almost broke at the pain on Sirius's face; his pale complexion seemed pure white, skin stretched taut over his high cheekbones, and his eyes had filled with tears he was holding back with sheer force of will.
Guilt surged up and washed over Harry like a tidal wave. He'd never thought about how his trip to the grave might affect Sirius. Or Remus, Harry mused, as he checked on the other man and noted that Remus looked particularly grim too.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Harry berated himself internally, mentally kicking himself for good measure. How had he forgotten that the two men had lost people they loved too? Or not forgotten but just not thought about it. While a part of him wanted to argue that he had lost the most (his parents, his life with his parents), he knew Sirius and Remus had arguably lost more since they had known his parents for longer, loved them for longer.
And maybe it wasn't a competition.
They'd all lost his parents.
But at least they'd found each other.
Harry slipped his hand into Padfoot's. "You OK, Padfoot?" He warmed under the approving glance Remus sent his way.
"Just…" sniffed Sirius, brushing away a stray tear, "just makes it real. I didn't…I mean I knew…I saw…" his voice cracked, "but…I didn't get the chance to say goodbye and…"
Harry hugged him so hard he thought his arms might break but then Sirius was hugging him back and it took a moment for Harry to realise that his own face was wet and he was crying. Sirius lifted an arm and murmured 'Moony' and Remus was there too; holding onto them just as they were holding onto each other.
He had no idea how long they clung to one another.
The sky was clearing by the time they eased away; Remus separating from them completely to shove his hands deep in the pockets of his coat and wander away to collect himself while Sirius and Harry simply shifted positions.
Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry. "It's a bloody awful quote."
And Harry was irrationally pleased and relieved that Sirius agreed with him about it.
Harry kept a hand tight on Sirius's coat. "We should change it."
Sirius reached out and touched the tombstone, the etched writing transforming under the insistence of his magic.
"Where there is love there is life."
Harry looked at him, startled.
"No good?" questioned Sirius, fidgeting a little.
"No, it's great but…"
"It's a quote from a muggle leader called Gandhi." Sirius explained a little self-consciously. "Your Mum made me read his biography once." He flushed a little. "The quote stuck with me."
"It's perfect." Harry declared.
"I think it's perfect too." Remus said, surprising them as he walked back up to them. "I remember that book. She made us all read it when we were thinking about joining…well, the fight against Voldemort."
Harry nodded. He bit his lip. "We should have brought flowers or something."
Remus drew out his wand and conjured a bouquet of gold and red chrysanthemums. He handed it to Harry solemnly and Harry carefully placed it on the ground, tucked up against the white stone.
Sirius breathed out in an audible rush. "I wish…" he said as he gathered Harry back to his side.
And Harry didn't need to know what he wished or if it was the same thing as Harry. He was pleased he'd seen where they had lived and where they were buried. But his life wasn't with them and as much as he regretted that, he loved Padfoot too much to wish for anything different anymore. He put his own arm around Sirius's waist and squeezed.
"Let's go home."
o-O-o
"My darling Severus,
I can't believe it's been so long since we last talked like this. Our sojourn in Hogsmeade was wonderful though and it was good to finally see you in person.
My Father was dismayed about the potion you're working on being ready in May rather than June. Are you sure you can't delay it just a teeny tiny month? He wants your help on another potion but he won't need that until June either.
I believe I may need you Christmas Day – or should I say during the Yule Ball you will be attending no doubt? I have a surprise for a friend of ours and I may need you to help bring him to where I'll be waiting. You'll understand better when you see my present to you tomorrow!
All my love,
B."
Severus frowned at a twinkly-eyed Albus as the Headmaster reread the damned the letter out loud.
The rest of the hastily gathered War Council were blatantly displaying their amusement with the exception of Moody and Black. Thankfully, Cornelius was absent, tied up with Ministerial duties.
"Well, this is a wonderful end to supremely fuck awful day." Black muttered.
His words managed to drain the amusement out of the others.
Black did look drained, Severus realised, wondering what the other wizard had been doing all day.
"How was the visit to Godric's Hollow?" asked Bertie almost gently and Severus felt the shock of the question charge through him like electricity. Black had gone back there? No wonder he looked like he'd been crucio'ed. He'd probably have preferred to have been crucio'ed.
"Upsetting for all involved." Black replied tersely. "That's why Remus stayed back with Harry tonight."
Amelia poured him a cup of tea, sweetened it, and pushed it into his hands. "Drink your tea, Sirius." She said sympathetically.
Black drank his tea.
"Well, the letter does reveal a couple of things other than young Bartemius's obsession with Sirius." Albus said, placing it down on the desk. "Firstly, that Tom is worried about you finding an antidote. He fears being found or something that the elf or Miss Summers might tell us."
Moody grunted in agreement.
"The other potion he mentions could well be the ritual potion." Bertie said. "He may have decided not to leave it in the hands of someone like Pettigrew."
"If I assist him, I may be able to sabotage the potion." Severus murmured.
"I would rather we didn't help Tom regain his body." Albus replied evenly. "But sabotaging the potion may do more harm than good. Necromancy is difficult and draws on some quite dark arts, my boy."
"I agree." Bertie said. "Sabotaging the potion is not the way to go. Hopefully we'll stop him before he gets a chance to use it but the potion itself is better created well and to specification rather than anything else. All of the research Bill and Caro have done suggests that sabotaging it will simply create a monster so…"
"Rather the Devil we know than the one we don't." Amelia gave a firm nod. "Agreed."
Severus inclined his head. The thought that they might create something worse than the Dark Lord was terrifying.
"And the last thing the letter confirms is that Barty has something in mind for tomorrow night and something to do with me." Sirius sighed heavily.
"Clearly he's expecting me to deliver you to him in some way." Severus mused out loud.
Sirius sighed again. "How? He knows we're not exactly friends and it's not as though I would let Harry out of my sight after what happened at the World Cup."
"And if someone were to suggest Greyback had Lupin at his mercy?" Severus rejoined. "Or perhaps he'll even take one of the students under the protection of the House of Potter or Black, and tempt you away from Potter that way."
He knew his words had hit home when Black dropped his glare first.
"We do have an opportunity here to take down Junior." Moody pointed out with ruthless efficiency. "He thinks he's baiting a trap for Black but we could turn the tables on him and bait a trap for him."
"Not without revealing Severus's true loyalties." Albus said sharply.
Severus shrugged. "I might be able to argue with the Dark Lord it was Crouch's incompetence that led to his arrest, not any action on my part. Removing Crouch may even give me that direct access."
"Or it could lead to your death when Voldemort decides it was your fault." Black said baldly. "We don't know how he would jump."
"I'm prepared to take the risk." Severus argued, trying to keep his temper from seeping into his voice.
"I'm not prepared to let you." Black retorted. "You're much more valuable to us alive."
Ignoring how Albus beamed at Black like he was the second coming, Severus wondered at what Black exactly meant by that. Possibly no more than the face value, he determined. If Severus died within the next few days, there would be nobody to complete the antidote for the elf after all, and while Pettigrew seemed intent on slipping bits of information to his former friends there was no way they could trust it so they needed Severus as a trusted spy gathering information.
"I hate the thought of letting Crouch walk if we're going to know where he is at an exact time." Amelia complained. "The longer he stays at large, the more it makes the Aurors look incompetent. It's bad enough with Pettigrew."
"And either way we need to ensure that his surprise for you, Sirius, is thwarted." Bertie added.
Sirius held up his hand. "I agree we need a plan but giving up our only real spy in Voldemort's camp isn't it. Snape should do exactly what Barty tells him to do."
"Even if that means delivering you to your death?" asked Severus scathingly, because how Gryffindorish of Black to acquiesce to being delivered to his death. He might have known. It was fine for Black to be in danger and heroic but not Severus.
"One," Black said holding up a finger, "thanks so much for your faith in my ability not to get dead. And two, we'll be planning a whole thing to ensure you don't deliver me to my death, and three…" he paused, "I'm not sure I have a three." He rolled his shoulders. "It's been a long day."
"Three, you would do it if it was going to keep your boy safe and there was no other plan." Moody said grumpily, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at him.
"I've been reminded with ample evidence today that sometimes there's no choice." Black shot back. "Can we move onto the part where we plan how I won't end up dead?"
Amelia jumped in. "There are too many variables for a real plan, Sirius. We have no idea what the surprise is. It may be him, it may be some kind of monster he's created or called forth, it may be a physical trap to harm you without you even seeing him."
"Not knowing the location is the sticking point." Moody grumbled. "If we knew we could have men in place to come to your aid as though by chance but if we don't know, there's no way we can guarantee being able to get to you before anything happens."
"And maybe even a woman or two." Amelia said pointedly.
Moody rolled his magical eye in her direction.
"The details may be in the present he promises to deliver to you tomorrow." Bertie commented.
Severus raised his eyebrow. "It doesn't leave a lot of time for planning even if he does give a location away."
"It has to be here or close by though, right?" Black said, tapping his fingers in an annoying rhythm against the china cup he held.
"Good point." Moody said gruffly. "It's probably somewhere on Hogwarts' grounds or in the Forest." His lips twisted his face into a more ugly shape. "They probably won't use the Durmstrang ship since that would draw unwanted attention and it's probable that they know we suspect it of harbouring them because of Karkaroff."
"So, regardless of the present tomorrow, all the patrols are informed to be aware of a potential situation," Black said authoritatively. "We already suspected something would happen and the extra caution isn't going to be suspicious. It's entirely possible he will grab someone else to force me into leaving Harry."
"You wear a tracking charm." Amelia stated in a no-nonsense tone that had Black bowing his head in agreement.
"And I suggest you prepare for the unexpected, Sirius." Albus said. "I can't believe that whatever he has planned will be pleasant."
There was a beat of silence as they all absorbed that.
"Will you tell Harry?" asked Amelia.
Black sighed and nodded. "I don't want him running after me to save me from Snape and the best way of ensuring that is to tell him the truth."
"You actually imagine he'll be content to simply let you confront Crouch or Crouch's surprise without him?" demanded Severus.
Black just looked at him. "I know you need to be a good liar to be an effective spy, Snape, but sometimes honesty really is the best policy."
Severus glared at him.
Black stood up effectively ending the discussion. "I'm going to go and enjoy what's left of Christmas Eve with my son. Snape, send word when you receive Crouch's present."
He departed with muttered goodbyes to the others.
"I wish I could do more to relieve Sirius of the heavy burden he carries." Albus murmured.
Amelia sighed, shifting back in her chair and lifting her cup. "It's obviously not a good day for this news to emerge given their visit to the house at Godric's Hollow."
"I believe they also intended to visit the cemetery." Bertie sighed. "I'm sure today has been a very hard day for both Sirius and Harry."
Severus hid behind his usual impassive mask as he inwardly agreed with Bertie. He had only ever visited the cemetery once and that had been just after Lily's death. He had not visited again and doubted that he would ever again. It was too stark a reminder that she was gone. Sympathy swelled up for Black and Potter that he quickly suppressed.
"And we had to go and make it worse." Amelia said softly.
"Are we certain that he's after Black?" Moody asked suddenly.
Albus frowned at him as did Severus.
"As certain as we can be given he's insane." Severus replied caustically.
"Don't get your panties in a twist, lad." Moody said brusquely. "I'm just wondering if he's dangling Black like a red herring. If we get too focused on protecting him tomorrow…"
"It may mean we miss protecting the actual target." Amelia grimaced.
Severus inclined his head, his dark hair falling forward as he considered Moody's point. "The mutual friend does limit the candidates to either Black or Karkaroff. We spoke of no-one else."
"I believe we shouldn't try to over-complicate this." Bertie commented, rearranging his robes, and gesturing at Moody. "We suspected Riddle would want to make some kind of statement at Yule. We know his focus and obsession is Harry. If he's given Crouch a mission to do something that weakens Harry, the most obvious target would be Black…"
"But truthfully it could equally be one of Harry's close friends. Hermione would be the other obvious target." Amelia pointed out. "Alastor's right. We can't simply assume that it is Sirius who is at risk."
"I believe Severus is right to point out the mutual friend allusion refers to those they've spoken about and Sirius is Bartemius's own obsession." Albus nodded sagely. "These things suggest we are on the right track."
Severus hummed. "I also think Crouch wants to make Black suffer. Whatever it is, I don't believe he'll kill Black quickly or painlessly."
Amelia set her cup down. "All we can do is plan for the worst."
Moody grunted. "Damn right."
"And possibly hope for the best." Albus said brightly.
Amelia shot Albus an 'are you for real?' look that Severus wished he could. She stood up. "I need to leave. Richard's expecting me for a family drinks thing."
Bertie followed her lead. "I should be heading out myself. I wanted to visit Lawrence in Saint Mungo's."
"How is he?" Albus asked the question on the tip of Severus's own lips.
Severus had tried his best to stave off the curse that had inflicted Lawrence Appleby with the potion he'd created but the Dark Lord's curse on the old Gaunt ring had been too strong in the end and it had only led to a short delay of the inevitable.
"The healers believe he'll be gone by New Year." Bertie said sorrowfully.
Moody moved once Amelia and Bertie had departed through the floo, and Severus got up too. He had no wish to be trapped into spending time with Albus. He respected the older wizard but he wasn't in the mood for one of his lectures on bonding with Black or protecting Potter.
"Drink?" Moody asked as they clear of the staircase leading the Headmaster's office.
Severus nodded stiffly. They made their way without discussion to the staff room. Moody conjured glasses and poured them both a drink from his flask.
The aroma was a familiar peaty smell that had Severus lifting an eyebrow. "Whiskey?"
"Balvenie." Moody confirmed. "My mate Gilbert swears by it."
Severus sniffed appreciative and took a sip, savouring the taste and the kick of alcohol. He found himself slowly relaxing as the crackle of the fire warmed him in the comfortable silence.
"Are you going to be able to handle tomorrow?" asked Moody abruptly.
It was a good question. In the first flush of being a Death Eater he had never questioned whether what he was doing was morally right or wrong. And when he had questioned it, he was already installed within Hogwarts on the Dark Lord's order and distanced from doing anything as a Death Eater, other than spying and passing information – which he could ignore would lead to deaths and violence – that might be constituted as morally ambiguous. But…if he was to assist Crouch in delivering Black to him, Severus himself would have a hand in whatever happened to Black.
Severus grimaced.
There had been a time not so long ago, he mused, where he would have leaped at the opportunity to hand Black over to Crouch regardless of his promise to Albus. Only somehow since then he'd come to appreciate that Black meant to end the Dark Lord; was as fervent in his desire as Severus was, and they had agreed a truce that somehow made Severus already feel partially redeemed for his part in what had happened to Lily.
"I shall handle whatever happens." Severus said simply. Because truthfully there was no other choice.
"It has all the makings of a clusterfuck." Moody said. "I hope Potter stays out of it."
Severus inclined his head and didn't say anything, allowing them to lapse back into blissful silence, because he had a feeling Potter would be doing anything but staying out of it.
o-O-o
25 th December 1994
The wet cold nose pressing into his hand roused Harry from his sleep. He blinked blearily at the Grim sat beside his bed, tongue hanging out and tail thumping loudly on the floor. He yawned. "It's so early, Padfoot." He complained. And he knew that because the room was very dark with the only light filtering through from the open bedroom door, and Hedwig hadn't moved an inch from her perch; her head firmly tucked under her wing.
Padfoot reached forward and gripped the edge of Harry's pyjama top cuff dragging him slowly but inexorably out of bed.
Harry managed to grab his glasses and his dressing gown as he grumbled under his breath and allowed the Grim to pull him out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Remus sat in one chair, wrapped up in an old dressing gown. A grumpy expression creased his face and his usually neat hair was askew. Minvera sat in the other chair, her hair in outlandishly large rollers. She wore tartan slippers and a tartan dressing gown over what looked to be a full length nightie. Harry coloured slightly. He'd glimpsed Minerva in her nightwear when she'd stayed with them at Griffin House but it always felt slightly wrong to see his Professor in such clothing. Padfoot herded him to the sofa.
"What time is it?" asked Harry as Dobby popped in and placed a tray of tea on the coffee table. The elf sank to sit beside it at Padfoot's bark.
"Early." Minerva stated briskly. "Too early but someone couldn't wait."
Padfoot shifted and Sirius stood there in his usual warm maroon dressing gown. He grinned at them and clapped his hands. "Merry Yuletide!" He motioned at them all. "And here we all are!" His grin got even wider. "We can do the presents now!"
All of their grumpiness subsided, draining away in Sirius's enthusiasm. Harry smiled up at Sirius, pushing the last of his sleepiness away in an effort to join in and make sure Sirius wasn't disappointed.
"How long do you think he's been awake?" asked Remus in a side-whisper to Minerva.
"I don't think he actually went to sleep." She replied dryly. She sighed at Sirius's overdone pout. "Very well, Sirius; continue. I'll pour the tea."
Sirius clapped his hands again with a gleeful exuberance and bounded over to the tree which suddenly had a stack of presents under it that hadn't been there before.
Harry accepted the cup of tea Minerva handed him and settled back, thinking how different that morning was to the previous Christmases he'd had. The miserable Christmases spent with the Dursleys seemed another lifetime ago but even the comfort of the previous Christmases at Hogwarts suddenly seemed like distant memories against the bright vivid joy that Harry could feel spreading through him.
It would have been nice if Hermione, Ron and Neville could have joined them, Harry mused, but he knew Ron wanted to open his presents with his family, and both Neville and Hermione had declined Sirius's invitation to the present opening first thing citing other plans. He suspected that both his friends didn't want to intrude on Harry's first Christmas with Sirius. They were all coming for a large family lunch though and he would see them then.
"You first, Harry." Sirius said, handing him a small package wrapped in tartan.
He knew immediately who it was from. His gaze darted to Minerva who smiled at him softly. Harry undid the wrapping carefully, ignoring Sirius's grabby hand motions to get on with it and one moment where he thought Sirius intended to take over himself. The box inside was a sturdy wood with a simple hinge. Harry opened it up and…he stared down as the golden Snitch inside unfurled, its wings stretching.
"It's a practice model used by the professional teams." Minerva said briskly. "We can't have you getting out of practice. I expect my star Seeker back on the Gryffindor team next year."
Harry moved to awkwardly give her hug before sliding back onto the sofa as Sirius solemnly handed Minerva her first gift which was from Sirius and Harry.
Minerva looked at the shiny gold and red paper with a pleased expression before ripping through it as though it was tissue paper.
"Make a note, Pronglet," Sirius said admiringly, "that is how you open a present."
Minerva shot him a chiding look before beaming at the door plaque that read 'Aunt Minnie.' It was styled in the same lettering as the other plaques in Griffin House and it was a present to underscore their decision for her to move in during the next Summer.
"Thank you both." Minerva sniffed and her eyes were suspiciously bright.
Harry was relieved when Sirius bounded up to Remus with a present, breaking the moment.
Remus sighed at the wrapping paper; dogs were running backwards and forward excitedly. "From you, Padfoot?"
Sirius nodded and sat down next to Harry as Remus took off the wrapping and revealed an old copy of a battered book with the title 'Growing up with Lycanthropy; A Wolf's View by R.J. Lupin.'
He'd told Harry the tale behind the book when he'd showed it to him before wrapping it. Remus had written the book back at school and had managed to find a small publishing firm to produce a handful of copies.
"My goodness!" Remus tore his gaze away from Sirius to stare at him. "Where did you find this copy? I thought the Ministry burned them along with the other pro-Werewolf literature a few years back."
"My vault." Sirius said, gesturing vaguely. "I kept a copy thinking it'd be valuable one day and it is, because it's the only one left. You should have it, Moony."
Remus's fingers trailed over the spine. "I only sold a handful but they were all recalled with the Ministry's edict. Of course, this one missed the magical recall because it was in a bank vault."
"Well, it's right you have a copy back." Sirius repeated.
Remus shot Sirius a grateful smile.
Sirius reached under the tree and pulled out a package which he handed to Dobby. "From me and Harry, Dobby."
Dobby's ears waggled excitedly. He also carefully undid the wrapping, setting it aside. He gave a squeal at the gift of a knitting basket filled with skeins of brightly coloured wool, different sizes of knitting needles and a package of patterns for different types of sock. "Dobby is pleased to be making socks." He said delighted.
Remus smiled brightly and caught Sirius as he moved back to the tree. "You, sit." He grinned when Sirius pouted again. "I'll get yours." He hurried over to the tree and pulled out a large present which he handed to Sirius with due fanfare. "From Harry."
Sirius threw Harry a questioning glance and Harry nervously smiled back, hoping Sirius liked his present. He immediately tore off the wrapping paper and came to an abrupt halt at the framed picture of himself and Harry.
It was a portrait of one of the candid shots that the photographer had taken during Harry's first press interview in the Summer. The photo had showed Harry and Sirius standing next to each other in his study, Sirius's hand on Harry's shoulder, and them both smiling at one another with so much genuine love and affection that Harry had initially been embarrassed by it. But he knew Sirius loved the photo and so Remus had helped Harry get it turned into a portrait, with the frame specially made and engraved with a small plaque at the bottom that simply said 'Padfoot and Pronglet.'
Harry knew that the portrait represented more than just a picture of the two of them though; it was magical and even after they were both dead, which Harry hoped wouldn't be for a long while, the essence of them painted into their portraitures would always remain together.
"This," Sirius declared, unable to stop looking at the picture, "this is perfect." His eyes were bright and shining when he raised his head. "Thank you, Pronglet." He reached out and pulled Harry into a one-armed hug, before ruffling his hair and letting him go. "I love it."
"It is lovely." Minerva commented softly. "The artist captured you both wonderfully."
Sirius didn't let go of his gift. Instead he hugged it to him and nodded at Remus. "Bring over Harry's present, would you, Moony?"
Remus grinned and hurried over to the tree, reaching behind it and pulling out a very familiar shaped gift.
Harry's eyes widened and he didn't take care with the wrapping as he tore it away to reveal a new broomstick – the Flaming Arrow.
"It's kind of a tradition me buying you a broomstick." Sirius murmured beside him as Harry's hand travelled reverently down the wooden body and over the tightly placed twigs. "I bought you your first broom that first Christmas. Lily wrote to tell me you'd fly around the room and scare the cat."
And the previous year, Sirius had gotten him the Firebolt.
Harry leaned over to hug him again. "Thank you. It's brilliant!" And it meant that he could retire his Firebolt and make sure that it didn't get destroyed or broken – something that had been bothering him with the 'prized possession' thing of the tournament clue. He couldn't wait to get outside and try the new broom out. Ron was going to go nuts about it.
Minerva sighed wistfully. "We would totally destroy Slytherin with you on that broomstick."
He grinned at her. "Next year." He promised.
And as Remus went to get the next present (Sirius still hadn't let go of the portrait), and Minerva threatened retribution for a gift of cat toys, Harry embraced the happiness bubbling up inside him and let all the other worries and anxieties about the tournament and Voldemort fade away.
o-O-o
Christmas morning found Neville camped out in the Common Room with the rest of the Weasleys. He'd eschewed Sirius's invitation knowing that it was Harry's first with Sirius and if it hadn't been for the Yule Ball and the tournament, all of them would have been spending Christmas with their own families. They both deserved for their first Christmas to be primarily the two of them. He had felt a pang of regret the evening before but Ron had dragged him down to sleep with the twins in the Common Room (after a plea not to be left alone with his pranking siblings), and come morning Ginny had joined them. They'd effectively taken over the space in front of the fire to open their presents.
Neville found himself forgetting his previous regret as he was swept up in the fun and joie de vivre that only the Weasley twins could radiate in waves. Ron was also making an effort to make sure Neville was included and Neville marvelled at the change in their friendship since the Summer when Neville had thought the youngest Weasley brother only tolerated his presence because of Harry – something that had been confirmed for Neville when Ron had pushed him after they'd realised Harry was with a mind healer. But since that had happened, he and Ron had slowly moved past the fraught start and built a friendship of their own. And Neville liked Ron with his affable manner and usually easy-going persona for all Ron could be a stubborn mule when he got an idea in his head.
By the time, they'd finished unwrapping the gifts, all the Weasleys were wearing their usual Molly knitted Christmas sweaters – big woolly monstrosities with their initial and in varying colours (Ginny had complained at pink, Ron at the vibrant lime green), and they were all surrounded by a heap of wrapping paper and untidy piles of presents.
Neville was also wrapped up in one of his gifts; the new black woollen cloak that his Gran had sent him. It went well with the new leather gloves and a black woolly hat with the crest of Longbottom embroidered on the front that he'd received from Sirius (clearly there had been a conspiracy between his Gran and Sirius).
Ginny sat down beside him and fingered the bottom edge of the cloak enviously. "This is really beautiful, Nev."
"Gran's gone all out this year." Neville said. He suspected some of it was that their finances were in a better place. She'd never said anything but he'd known for a couple of years that they were on a budget. He'd assumed that was one of the reasons why she'd been so insistent on his having his Dad's wand; that they couldn't afford a new one.
But he knew a lot of the gifts that she'd sent him were to make up for the previous years when she'd bought mostly stuff she thought he should have wanted rather than things that he actually wanted. He patted the book on underwater plants with fondness. She'd really taken note of his interests and bought stuff he could use this time, he mused. The best present though had been a photo album filled with pictures of his Mum, Dad and himself. It was something he treasured.
Ginny sighed beside him.
"You alright?" Neville asked quietly.
She nodded, her red hair falling forward. She tucked it back behind her ears. "Just missing home." She admitted. "It's not the same staying at Hogwarts." She glanced up, checking where her brothers were. "It makes me wish I hadn't said yes when Michael asked me to the Ball." Her fingers twisted together. "I was just so flattered and…" she bit her lip.
Neville frowned. He and Ginny had been friends of sorts during her previous Hogwarts' years. "If you don't want to go with him, you don't have to go."
"Oh, I know, and it really isn't about the Ball." Ginny smiled, but there was an air of sadness about her. "Just missing home like I said."
He returned the smile. "I know how you feel. I kind of wish I was back at home with Gran although I'm looking forward to taking Hannah to the Ball."
"It's your first 'real' date, huh?" teased Ginny, some of the sadness fading away.
Neville had a feeling he looked sheepish; he certainly felt sheepish. "We did do a lot of practice dates." He admitted.
Ginny snorted a laugh but she patted his hand. "I'm pleased for you, Nev. You're so much happier this year."
There was a hint of a question in her tone; a note of wistfulness.
"I am happier." Neville admitted. "Things have really changed for me since Sirius took over Harry's guardianship. Gran's…she's like a new woman. I look at her now and I think if this is the mother my Dad knew then it was no wonder he was brilliant because she's just great." He motioned at Ginny. "She sees me now, you know?"
"You're closer to Harry too." Ginny commented. She hunched in on herself as though expecting him to berate her for mentioning Harry.
"Yeah, I am." Neville said gently. And he couldn't deny his friendship with Harry had been a large part of the reason why things had changed for him. Harry's support had given him confidence and Neville wouldn't trade it for the world. He looked at her downcast face. "How are things going for you now?"
Ginny grimaced, her pretty face contorting for a moment. "You'd think Lydia and me had been the ones to attack Hermione." She sighed and rubbed her nose. "I know we went a bit overboard with following him around and OK, we talked about messing with Hermione and pranking her but…neither of us would actually have attacked Hermione and it's not like we told Jessica to do it either."
"I think Harry and Hermione know that." Neville said comfortingly.
"They do," Ginny confirmed, "they've even said so to both Lydia and me, and forgiven us for the other stuff." She pulled on the stretched cuff of her jumper. "It's just…you'd think nobody else knew it which everybody does and…it's just hard having most everyone else in the school treat us like pariahs for something that wasn't even our fault."
Neville nodded understandingly. In some ways, he sympathised. Jessica had been the attacker and neither Ginny nor Lydia had supported her actions. Lydia had run immediately to her brother for advice since it would affect the House of Inglebee, and Ginny had immediately confessed all to Hermione. On the other hand, he kind of felt they'd made a rod for their own backs in how they'd stalked Harry without any real regard for how he might feel about it and how it would look to others. Ginny's sigh pulled him back out of his thoughts.
"It's worse since Lydia went home for Christmas." Ginny admitted. "It's like it's all on me. At least when she's here, there's the two of us."
He picked up on the note of warmth in her voice. "You're really friends now, then?"
"Yeah," Ginny pushed a hand through her hair and gave a sheepish smile, "Lydia admitted after Jessica got expelled that they'd both befriended me because I knew Harry but…she asked for a second chance and well…"
With everyone else against them, Ginny hadn't wanted to refuse.
"But since then, we've been proper friends." Ginny said firmly. "We talk and…she's been great about the whole mind healer thing." She blushed furiously and darted a look at her brothers.
Neville followed her gaze; the twins and Ron were all wrestling over the tin of their mother's biscuits. He turned back to Ginny. "How's that going?"
Ginny shrugged. "It's…hard. But I think I'm…I'm facing what happened with the…the whole thing in my first year."
He wouldn't press her for details, Neville determined. If she wanted to tell him, she would.
"And I can see how Harry rescuing me didn't help my…" she winced, "crush." She waved her hand as though to wave away her words and admission, "I can see now that Hermione was right? I should have focused on being a friend to Harry rather than just…hoping he'd notice that I was more than Ron's little sister if he saw me around enough."
Her cheeks were bright red and Neville had no idea what to say.
"So that's what I'm going to do now; be his friend." Ginny stated with finality. "Lydia too. We've promised that if either of us slips back into fan-girl mode, we'll say something to each other."
"That's good." Neville said.
Ginny nodded, her teeth worrying her lower lip. "I just hate that it took Hermione getting hurt for me to see how silly we'd…that I'd been acting."
"But it's good that you saw it." Neville pointed out gently. "And I think you're doing the right thing seeing the mind healer and making sure you focus on being Harry's friend first and foremost."
Ginny nodded briskly and shifted position, tucking her legs beneath her as she got more comfortable.
"So you and Michael?" questioned Neville.
She shot him an irritated look. "I've already got six older brothers, Nev; don't you start."
"As your friend, you can't blame me for being concerned," Neville said, "it's not all that long ago you were head over heels for Harry and Michael asking you to the Ball and you saying yes kind of came out of nowhere."
"He used to be Ron's best friend." Ginny said dryly. "I mean, they were five years old at the time but…" she shrugged. "The Corners used to live just down the road but they decided to move to their London house because of Mister Corner's work. So we lost touch. Michael came and said hello at the beginning of my first year and asked how I was, and…we do chat occasionally."
But from the defensive tone, Neville was guessing it wasn't that often.
"His asking me was just a friendly gesture." Ginny continued. "He'd stopped to see if I was alright after the first task and I was complaining about the Ball and so he asked me. We're just going as friends."
Neville didn't know Michael all that well. He hoped Michael had done it as a friendly gesture rather than taking advantage of Ginny's vulnerability after all her travails over Harry and the incident with Jessica. He also hoped Ginny wasn't subconsciously using Michael either as a way of showing Harry she was attractive; of feeling attractive.
He was so glad he'd decided to pursue Hannah and not pursue the tentative attraction he'd felt for Ginny in the Summer when he'd been thinking about potential girlfriends. He might have very well asked her to the Ball himself if Sirius hadn't turned all their worlds upside down and nothing had changed for them, Neville realised.
"Well, I hope you have a good time." He replied diplomatically.
Ginny nodded. "You too."
There was a sound from the girls' staircase and Hermione poked her head around and smiled at them all.
Ron managed to wrench himself free from his brothers and smoothed down his jumper. "Hermione! Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas! Looks like it was a good Christmas for you all." Hermione commented as she joined them, already fully dressed in a jeans and a bright red jumper. She sank down to the floor and picked up the book on underwater plants. "Oooh! Can I borrow this after you've read it, Neville?"
Neville's lips twitched into a smile as he exchanged a knowing look with Ron. "Of course. I was thinking it might be useful for the research team."
"Definitely." Hermione nodded her head enthusiastically.
Ginny nudged her gently. "What did you get for Christmas?"
"Mum and Dad bought me some jewellery to go with my dress for tonight." Hermione's cheeks took on a red flush. "Nothing fancy just a necklace and some earrings."
Ginny smiled. "I'm sure you'll look beautiful."
Hermione put down the book and rubbed her arms. "I'm just hoping Harry and I manage to complete the first dance without tripping each other up."
"What did Harry get you?" asked Neville.
"We haven't exchanged gifts yet." Hermione admitted. "We wanted to open them together so we thought we'd do it at lunch."
"Talking of food," Ginny said, getting to her feet and brushing down her clothing, "we should get ready and head to the Hall for breakfast."
Neville figured her sudden want for breakfast had more to do with a desire to get away from hearing more about Hermione and Harry than it had to do with hunger.
Ron patted his tummy. "I could eat."
"You've just munched…" Fred began.
"…through a tin…" George continued.
"…of Mum's biscuits!" Fred completed.
Ron grinned at them. "I'm a growing boy!"
"That…"
"…you are…"
"Ronniekins!"
Hermione burst out giggling at Ron's appalled expression at the nickname. Ginny gave a faint chuckle, grabbed her presents and made her escape.
"Come on…"
"…then."
The twins hustled Ron up the boys' staircase leaving Hermione alone with Neville.
"How is she?" asked Hermione bluntly.
Neville shrugged. He wasn't going to give away any confidences but he could answer Hermione's question. "Working through things, I think."
"I hope so." Hermione said, shifting with a sigh to tidy up the wrapping paper that the Weasleys had left strewn around the room.
"She and Lydia seem to be building a real friendship now." Neville helped her feed the paper into the fire. "And they're both intent on focusing on friendship with Harry for the time being. That's something."
"It is." Hermione said. "I just hope they're sincere. I think they are. They've both apologised to Harry and me." She brushed her hair back from her eyes. "I just hope her going to the Ball with Michael isn't the wrong thing for her to do."
"Me too." Neville said. He glanced around the room. There was no more wrapping paper left. He picked up his presents. "I'll just be a jiffy." He promised.
Hermione waved him off and Neville made his way to the dorm. Seamus and Dean were sleeping, the curtains pulled tightly on their beds. There was a faint hint of noise coming from the bathroom; water running and an off-key rendition of Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. He dumped his gifts on his bed, glancing over at Harry's old bed which remained empty. He missed Harry in the dorm but he had to admit that Harry having his own rooms with Sirius was the best thing with the tournament.
Remembering that Hermione was waiting downstairs, he picked up his towel, hastily made for the bathroom and was a half a step from a shower stall when Ron stumbled out from his, wet and bedraggled, a towel wrapped around his lower body.
They exchanged a nod of acknowledgement and Neville made to close his curtain.
"Neville…" Ron said, taking a step toward him and leaving a puddle of water behind on the bathroom floor where he had been standing. He looked a tad uncertain and that was what arrested Neville's movement more than anything.
Neville raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"Ginny." Ron said awkwardly. "The twins and me noticed she was talking with you so…"
And so they'd left them to talk.
"Is she…" Ron struggled to get the question out and Neville took pity on him.
"She's alright, Ron." Neville said firmly. "Just…working her way through it."
Ron nodded briskly. "Right then." He grabbed hold of his slipping towel and pushed a wet lank of hair out of his eyes.
Neville couldn't resist asking. "You and Michael used to be best friends?"
The scowl on Ron's face was ferocious. "I don't know about best friends." He said. "We used to hang out as kids before they moved away, kind of how Ginny and Luna used to." He lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "He told the twins that he'd asked her to the Ball to cheer her up and Mum's told us to back off so…"
"Ginny said they were just going as friends but we can all keep an eye on them tonight." Neville promised.
Relief flooded Ron's face. "Thanks, mate." He gestured, almost losing the towel again. "I know I'm being an overprotective brother but…she's been through a lot." He coloured pink under his freckles.
Neville figured Ron felt a bit guilty about the hard time he'd given his sister over the whole thing with Hermione. Neville nodded and pointed at the shower behind him. "Best get on or Hermione will hex us for making her wait."
Ron grinned at him. "Right you are, Nev." He hurried out of the bathroom.
Neville closed the curtain.
o-O-o
There was an air of seasonal jollity permeating Harry's rooms that warmed Hermione from the inside out. She sat next to Harry on the sofa, her hand in his as she took in the atmosphere.
Part of it was the decorations – the bright red and gold tinsel, the deep green holly, and the twinkling Christmas tree bedecked with ornaments that were pieces of Harry's heritage. Some of it was the sense of family that shone out with every fondly exasperated smile that a casually dressed Remus and Professor McGonagall aimed at Sirius. Even Remus's werewolf friend Sian looked amused as did the Weasley kids crammed together on one sofa with grins on their faces. But as Hermione noted how Harry teased Neville, and how he and Sirius were decked out in matching Weasley jumpers, mostly Hermione attributed the ambience to the pure happiness which radiated from Harry and Sirius.
It was as though they'd set aside all the worries about a potential attack later, and concerns generally of the tournament and the situation with Voldemort, and decided to simply enjoy themselves and enjoy being together at Christmas.
Her heart ached a little as she suddenly missed her own parents with a fierceness that took her by surprise. She pushed it away. She wouldn't spoil things for Harry and Sirius, Hermione thought determinedly. She would do the same as them; she'd just enjoy the moment.
She smiled brightly at Dobby who handed her a cup of eggnog. "This is great. Thank you for having us, Sirius."
Sirius beamed at her. "Happy to have you all!" He clapped his hands and bounced up and down on his heels. "We have a few surprises later."
"Merlin help us." Professor McGonagall said dryly, but her eyes were twinkling with humour.
Fred grinned. "We love…"
"…surprises!" George completed.
Sirius smirked at them. "Excellent." He motioned towards Harry. "Harry, why don't you and Hermione go into my study and do your present exchange now? We have a few minutes before everyone else arrives."
Hermione nodded her agreement to Harry's quick glance to check it was alright with her.
"I'll just grab your gift from my room." Harry said.
Sirius shooed her in the direction of the study and she rolled her eyes at him as she complied, picking up her gift from the arm of the sofa. She resisted the urge to frown as she caught Ginny ostensibly looking away from her. As much as Ginny had resolved to get over her crush on Harry, Hermione believed it was a work in progress.
The study was cosy. A fire crackled in the hearth and thin sunlight streamed through the window, bathing everything yellow. She waited anxiously, but it only took a minute for Harry to rejoin her, nudging the door closed behind him.
Harry grinned at her. "Hey."
"Hey."
He leaned in to kiss her softly and for a long moment she enjoyed the thrill of being with him before the reality that they wouldn't be left alone for long intruded.
She reached behind her and presented him with the box solemnly. "Here."
Harry set her present down and took hers. She pushed her hair back over her shoulder and bit her lip as he sat down on the arm of a chair and carefully opened it. He set aside the wrapping paper and examined the box with interest before undoing the clasp at the front. The thin brown strip of leather held a beautifully carved wooden rune – the Norse rune for protection.
"Oh wow." Harry said. "Noshi wore something similar to this."
Hermione nodded. "I don't know if you remember but you wrote about the leather necklaces that Noshi and his family wore in the journal. It was why I suggested braided leather for the tournament bracelets when the beads were ruled out. You really seemed to like them so I thought…and this rune…"
"Protection." Harry said identifying straight away.
She smiled at him widely, knowing that only a year before he wouldn't have known and if he had he would never have said. "Yes."
"Put it on me?" Harry asked, handing the necklace to her.
She took it and carefully tied it behind his neck before moving round to his front. Her fingers traced the rune and Harry leaned forward to capture her lips in a sweet kiss.
"Thank you." He said.
Hermione blushed and stepped back. She'd smeared her blood onto the rune and repeated the words she'd uttered during his blessing before she'd wrapped the gift. She didn't know if it would make a difference – the magical theory suggested it would but…she hoped it would. Any extra protection Harry had as he faced the rest of the tournament and, ultimately Voldemort, would be good thing.
Harry picked up his present to her and handed it over with a nervous smile.
She unwrapped it as carefully as he had unwrapped hers. The jewellery box took her by surprise. She opened it and gasped at the beautiful golden charm bracelet. "Oh Harry!" The design matched the earrings and necklace her parents had given her and she realised that Harry must have colluded with them. "It's so beautiful." She murmured, picking it up to examine it closer.
The thick gold chain had four tiny charms hanging off it. The first was a miniature potions bottle; the second a tiny mirror; the third was an egg timer or…what was meant to represent a time-turner, she realised her heart pounding as she suddenly made the connection; they represented the years she and Harry had been friends and the adventures they'd had. It made sense; the fourth charm was a tiny cute dragon.
"It's brilliant." Hermione said. Beautiful and sentimental. She smiled at him and offered him the bracelet and her wrist. "Put it on me?"
He grinned at her, the nerves she'd seen in his expression drifting away as he focused on the clasp. He made to step back and she quickly moved to kiss him softly.
"Thank you." Hermione said gently.
There was a gentle knock on the door and while they didn't spring apart as the door opened, they did settle into positions that had more space between them.
Sirius poked his head into the room. "All done?"
They nodded.
"Come on then." Sirius said with a grin. "Our first surprise is here." He opened up the door and winked at Harry.
Hermione looked at him suspiciously and Harry grinned back at her. "It's a good surprise."
And of course Harry knew what the surprises were. She walked through the study door and froze as she took in her parents sitting on the sofa.
"Mum! Dad!" She raced over to hug them as they stood up, wide smiles on their faces. She eased back and stared at them. "But how?" She was barely aware of everyone else in the room smiling broadly at the reunion.
"Professor Dumbledore cast some kind of spell on us? It runs out at midnight." Her Mum replied. "I feel very Cinderella like!"
"So you're staying for the Ball?" She asked, torn between pleasure that they would see her dressed up in her finery and with Harry on her first official Ball, and horror that she would have her parents watching her all night. It wasn't that she and Harry intended to do anything but dance and enjoy the time with their friends but…
"No," her Mum gave her a knowing look, "we'll be here to take some pictures of you and Harry in your glad rags and then Andy and Ted will take us home."
Hermione belated saw Andromeda and Ted standing to the side. The Malfoys, Theo and his father stood next to them and were all looking distinctly uncomfortable about being in the presence of muggles.
She hurried over to greet them before she turned to Harry with an accusing frown she couldn't quite keep on her face. "You knew!"
Harry nodded and grinned back at her unrepentant.
The door chimed.
"And that will be surprises number two and three!" Sirius said gleefully. He bounded over to the door and opened it wide.
The first person through was Augusta Longbottom.
Neville got to his feet immediately, a wide smile lighting up his face. "Gran!"
And then…Molly entered.
"Mum!" The Weasley siblings chorused, racing over to greet her as their father and remaining brothers stepped through.
After that it was complete pandemonium for a long time.
It wasn't until they were all seated at the dining table – magically expanded to accommodate them all – that Hermione felt like she could catch her breath.
Sirius stood at the head of the table, Harry at his right and Remus at his left with Professor McGonagall at the foot of the table in the place of the hostess. Beside Harry, Andromeda and Ted sat together – Tonks was absent and on duty – and then Hermione and her parents. On the other side of the table, Narcissa sat between Remus's friend Sian and Lucius, with Draco next to his father. He kept staring at her parents as though they were strange creatures just as he had done every time he met them. Beside Draco, Neville and his Gran provided a buffer between the Malfoys and the Weasleys; Bill, Charlie, and Percy sat beside Augusta with Theo and his Dad rounding out that side of the table; Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and her parents on the other with Arthur beside Hermione's Dad.
Sirius coughed and raised his glass. "I'd like to thank you for coming and joining us for a special Yuletide luncheon. It is occasions like these that we remember how important family is and we are family, whether by blood or by friendship. It's also when we remember those who are no longer with us and who we miss, reminding us all that we should treasure those we have in our lives each moment."
"Hear, hear." Augusta said quietly.
"And which is why sharing days like today is important and why we're all gathered here." Sirius continued with a smile aimed in Augusta's direction. "Merry Christmas!"
Hermione grinned at her parents and they all raised their glasses as they joined in the toast. "Merry Christmas!"