I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.
https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon
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Chapter 20: A Place in the World
The Potter estate was alive with warmth and conversation as the family gathered for dinner. The table was laden with steaming dishes, and the clinking of silverware mingled with the sound of laughter. Charlus was recounting an old Quidditch story, much to James's amusement, while Lily and Dorea were quietly discussing plans for the estate.
Harry sat at the end of the table, quietly observing. It still felt strange to be here, surrounded by family and warmth, after so many years of solitude and battle. He listened more than he spoke, but that seemed to suit everyone just fine—they all understood he needed time to adjust.
It was midway through the meal when Dorea turned her attention to Harry, her tone soft yet purposeful.
"Harry," she began, setting down her glass of wine, "have you given any thought to creating an official identity now that you're here for good?"
The question caught him off guard. He set his fork down and frowned slightly. "I... I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted. "I've been focused on other things."
"Well, I have," Dorea said, a small, triumphant smile gracing her lips. "I spoke to my brother Arcturus, and he has a contact at Gringotts—an old goblin who could forge the necessary documents. All it would take is a drop of your blood."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Forge?"
Dorea shrugged lightly. "Forge is the wrong word, I suppose. It would simply confirm what's already true: you are a Potter. That's undeniable."
Charlus leaned back in his chair, intrigued. "And then what?"
"Arcturus also has someone in the Ministry," Dorea continued, her voice calm but confident. "They can update the records discreetly—no questions asked."
Lily leaned forward slightly, curiosity lighting her green eyes. "What's the story going to be, then? Harry didn't exactly appear through conventional means."
Dorea nodded, as though anticipating the question. "The official story would be that Harry is the son of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter. They passed away of old age last year, and Harry has been living abroad in the United States, where he was home-schooled. Now he's returned to reconnect with family."
James sat up straighter, his expression thoughtful. "That's... actually really clever. It explains why he hasn't been around, and no one would question it."
Dorea smiled, clearly pleased. "Exactly. It's close enough to the truth that it doesn't feel like a lie. Fleamont and Euphemia were distant relatives of ours, and the timeline works perfectly. We'll simply say Harry is like a grandson to Charlus and me."
Charlus chuckled, raising his glass in a toast. "Brilliant idea, my dear. Absolutely brilliant. I married the smartest woman in Britain."
Dorea gave him a mock-curtsy from her seat, though her smile softened as her gaze returned to Harry. "What do you think, Harry? This will give you a solid place in this world, a foundation to build on."
Harry leaned back, processing the plan. It was practical, well-thought-out, and—most importantly—it allowed him to stay with the family without constantly looking over his shoulder. He glanced around the table, at the expectant faces of his grandparents, parents, and even Lily, who gave him an encouraging nod.
Finally, he smiled faintly. "All right," he said. "Let's do it."
The atmosphere lightened instantly. Charlus clapped him on the shoulder, James grinned, and Lily beamed with approval. Dorea, ever composed, simply gave a satisfied nod.
"You won't regret this," she said warmly.
As the meal continued, Harry felt something settle within him. For the first time in what felt like forever, he had a place—not just in the world, but in a family.