Work Text:
Home Is Where The Heart Is
"Weasley! Knock that off right now!"
"It wasn't me!" Ron howled across the room. "It was Harry!"
"That's who I…" Professor McGonagall pushed her glasses up so that she could rub the bridge of her nose while Harry ducked his head and tried to not snicker. "Potter," she corrected herself. "Knock that off."
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said, his face actually twitching with the effort to not laugh. Harry wasn't too worried about McGonagall being upset with him, she was usually quick to forgive. It wasn't like Harry was blowing things up or being horrid - he'd only been trying to flick his transfigured pebbles toward Ron since he wasn't able to transfigure them into petals anyway.
It was why Ron was on the other side of the room actually, they'd already been scolded once for it. Harry still grinned at Ron when McGonagall went back to lecturing - it was never going to stop being funny to Harry when professors called him a Weasley.
The professors had been doing it since Harry's first day at Hogwarts. Apparently all he needed was his red hair and his Gryffindor robes to be constantly mistaken for one of Ron's brothers. Ron apologized for it all the time, but Harry liked it. Harry liked it even more after visiting Ron's family over the summer and really getting to feel like a Weasley for a few weeks.
Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry before turning back to the front, but she was the only one who didn't think it was funny.
"Next time I get detention, I'm sending you," Ron snickered when their class let out. The other second-years were rushing toward their common rooms, Harry wasn't in as much of a rush. It was Friday, classes were over, everything was great.
"Or maybe don't get detention," Hermione sniffed. "And you can't send Harry, Ron. I think they'd notice."
"Not if I take off my glasses," Harry joked. As much as Harry wanted to be a Weasley, there were plenty of differences between him and Ron. Ron was taller, he had loads of freckles. Harry had green eyes, not blue, and Harry's hair was more dark red while Ron's was orange.
Harry sort of looked a lot like Ron's sister, Ginny. He also looked a dab like his mum, something that made him grin every time he heard it. It was nice, having such a strong connection to his mum and a connection to Ron's family.
The Weasleys were loud and rambunctious and they were sort of Harry's favorite people in the world. If Harry could have one wild wish granted, he would wish he was a real Weasley.
Not that anyone else in the school seemed to care if Harry was only a fake-Weasley, even when students pointed and stared at him, they saw Ron and would whisper about how a Weasley defeated Voldemort.
Ron thought it was all a riot and told Harry over Christmas break last year that Harry was his favorite brother.
The others had beaten them to the common room and were being given a show by Fred and George while they did an odd sort of double-juggling act with what looked like enlarged jellybeans. Harry was whistled at by Oliver Wood, who sat around a table with Angelina, Alicia, and Katie from their quidditch team.
"We're going to get in an extra practice tomorrow," Oliver told him curtly. "The match with Slytherin is coming up, I'm not taking any chances with us being rusty."
"It's the over-exhausted he's willing to accept," Katie said, rolling her eyes at Harry. Harry tried to not blush about it, but Katie Bell was pretty and funny and Harry liked it when she made jokes with just him.
"Sure," Harry agreed with Oliver. "What time?"
"Four."
Harry blinked and crossed his fingers behind his back, hoping that Oliver didn't mean what he thought he meant. "Four in the afternoon?" he asked hopefully.
"And give Slytherin a chance to see our techniques? No way," Oliver said. "Four am. Be ready, Weasley. We're not losing a single game this year."
"His name is Potter," Katie scolded Oliver while Harry dragged himself back to his friends.
Potter, Weasley, it didn't matter. Harry would still be exhausted and sore by the time his four in the morning practice had ended.
"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked, scooting over so Harry could sit beside him on the rug in front of the fire. Hermione had taken the last seat on the couches, she had to squish up small to fit, but she was hiding behind one of Lockhart's books just like Percy Weasley was beside her.
"Oliver wants to have practice at four in the morning," Harry complained. "Four in the morning! Just so Slytherin ‘can't see our tactics'!"
"How are you going to even find the snitch at that time?" Ron asked, just as shocked and outraged as Harry was. "Fred and George'll be hitting each other with their bats in the dark!"
"That's if they're not falling off their brooms they're so tired," Harry said, rather dejected by the whole thing. It was Friday, Harry had wanted to stay up late with Ron and Hermione, work through the small stack of homework he had and then play chess or something.
Quidditch was brilliant and Harry definitely didn't want Gryffindor to lose, but Harry secretly would be happy when Oliver graduated. Hopefully their next captain wouldn't be as mental as Oliver.
"I guess that means early dinner for me," Harry said. "You want to come or will you be down later?" he asked Ron.
"Er… later, sorry," Ron said, grimacing. "I told Dean I'd check out the card game his parents sent. It's in another language, but he swears it's not hard to play."
"I hardly think Uno is a game entirely done in another language," Hermione said sarcastically from behind them. "It means one in Spanish, the other cards are all done in English."
"Says you," Ron argued. "Dean said that it's really tricky."
It probably wasn't, Harry had seen Dudley and his mates play it before. Any game that Dudley could figure out, anyone could figure out.
Harry left them to bicker about a game he wouldn't get to play yet while he forced himself up to his feet, resigned to an early dinner alone. There would be a few Gryffindors in the Great Hall, but only the younger ones in first year.
Sure enough, Harry saw that there were only a few students at the Gryffindor table when Harry joined them. Neville Longbottom was there, sitting with Ginny Weasley. Harry took the seat beside Ginny and smiled even when she blushed dark red and moved her arm, hiding her diary from Harry.
"Hello," Harry told them both, adding food to his plate at random. Everything at Hogwarts was always so good, Harry really didn't mind anything he got.
"Hiya, Harry," Neville said cheerfully. "Where's Ron?"
"He's doing something with Dean," Harry said. "And Oliver's making me get up before the sun, so I figured I'd eat early. What are you doing?"
"Professor Sprout said I could help her harvest moon fruits tonight," Neville said, beaming proudly. "She said it's tricky, but she trusts me to help."
"That's great, Neville," Harry said, meaning it. He smiled kindly at Ginny. "What about you, Ginny? Hiding from your brothers?"
"I've got homework," Ginny said, in a very near whisper with her face as red as her hair.
"Oh, what class?" Harry asked, spotting a chance to get Ginny to be normal around him. "I'm rubbish at potions, but I did alright in my other classes last year."
"You'd be better at potions if Snape wasn't a creepy bat," Neville said politely - which was maybe true.
Professor Snape seemed to swing heavily between despising Harry and staring at him oddly in silence. Headmaster Dumbledore told Harry at the end of his first year that it was because Harry looked much like his mum, who apparently went to school with Snape. Not that it made any of Snape's odd behavior make sense, but Harry just tried to ignore him.
"Thanks," Harry told Neville gratefully.
"It's - it's charms," Ginny told Harry, only stammering half as much as she usually did around him. "Everyone else has made their feathers float and moved on to ice cubes, but my feather just does a little wiggle."
"Oh! I can help!" Harry said, pleased that his offer wasn't empty. "Here, I'll show you on my peas."
Harry pulled his wand out and pointed it at his pile of peas, focusing hard so he didn't end up looking silly. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said, pronouncing it clearly and slowly for Ginny. When Harry flicked his wand up, a stream of peas started floating upward.
Ginny watched him closely and then pulled her wand out, aiming it carefully at her napkin.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she said, just as Harry had. Her napkin didn't get up very far and Harry was able to see what the problem was.
"It's your wrist," Harry said kindly. He reached out to take Ginny's wrist in his hand and turned it some, putting her thumb up at the top. "Now try," he encouraged her.
Ginny took a deep breath and pointed her wand at the napkin again. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she cried.
Harry and Neville both clapped when Ginny's napkin rose and she looked over the moon by it.
"Thank you," she told Harry shyly.
"No problem," Harry said. He didn't mean anything by it, it was just a thing that Ron said when he taught Harry things sometimes, "That's what brothers are for."
Ginny looked so mortified that Harry was pretty sure it was the entire reason why she left dinner before even finishing her plate.
"Was it something you said?" Neville asked.
Probably. Harry forgot, as much as the Weasleys acted like Harry was part of their family, but Ron did mention that Ginny had something of a crush on him. Which… made Harry's skin itch a bit.
"I'm sure she's just busy," Harry lied. "Tell me more about the moon fruits."
Neville was happy enough to do so and Harry listened to him talk while they ate. Apparently moon fruits weren't good for much in potions or medicines, but they were a favorite for a lot of magical creatures.
"With an idiot like Lockhart around, that's got to be a good thing to have on hand," Harry said, thinking of the disastrous lesson on pixies.
Neville nodded seriously. "I'm going to carry some in my pockets until he's gone," he whispered.
That was probably smart of him to do.
"If you have any extra, I'd take some," Harry said. If it meant he didn't get attacked by pixies again, then Harry would trade anything except his broom for it.
Neville promised to save some for Harry and they chatted about their mutual dislike of Lockhart until Harry was finished eating.
It felt really unfair, Harry having to go to bed early because Oliver was a maniac. Harry joined quidditch to have fun and evade detention, not to be in bed by eight o'clock on a Friday night.
The dream he had about Oliver being swarmed by pixies and carried away from Hogwarts by his ears had been well deserved, in Harry's opinion.
Four o'clock came too early and Harry mentally used every swear he knew while he got dressed. Harry knew a lot of swears, thanks to Fred and George and Uncle Vernon.
Harry thought it might be a little chilly outside and he quietly stole one of Ron's knitted jumpers, casting guilty glances towards where Ron snored in his bed the whole time. Ron probably wouldn't care, but it made Harry feel like a thief to take it without asking.
There was some noise coming from behind the fourth year boy's dorm, Harry figured it was the twins getting ready to go, though he was surprised they weren't being louder as a protest for Oliver's demands.
Katie Bell was dressed and ready in the common room, she smiled sleepily at Harry and he didn't even get a chance to pat his hair flat before someone was attacking him.
"Get off! What are you—?" Harry turned around and saw that he wasn't being strangled by a crazy person… or not entirely anyway. Percy had a knitted red scarf and hat in his hands and Harry's tired brain took a moment to realize he'd been trying to wrap the scarf around Harry.
"It's eight degrees outside," Percy said. "You have to wear a scarf."
Katie giggled and Harry glanced over his shoulder at her before he scowled at Percy.
"I don't need a scarf," Harry said in a mortified whisper. "Nobody else is wearing a scarf, Percy."
"Nobody else is twelve," Percy said bossily. Was he trying to make Harry look like a baby in front of his entire team? "Scarf, Harry, or I'll be writing Mum."
Harry sputtered some while Percy forced the hat and scarf on him. It wasn't helped that Alicia and Angelina joined Katie while Percy was lecturing Harry and they snickered at him being babied.
"There." Percy nodded once Harry was bundled up and that was when Harry realized Percy was still in his sleep clothes. It was awfully early… did Percy wake up just to be sure Harry had a scarf and a hat?
That was sort of nice, actually, Percy fussing over him like he did to Ron at times. It definitely took some of the sting out of Harry being treated like a toddler in front of his team.
"Thanks," Harry said, only a little begrudgingly at that point.
"That's what I'm here for." Percy patted Harry on the head, a bit like a dog. "I'll save you a seat at breakfast. Be careful."
Sure, the girls giggled at Harry some on their team's march down to the pitch, but Harry kind of liked it. It made him feel like he actually had a big brother, one who cared if he was cold and wanted him to be careful.
Nothing at all like Fred and George who seemed to enjoy sending bludgers at Harry every few seconds while he flew through the sky and caught the snitch over and over.
Oliver flew the team ragged that morning, only releasing them when Angelina threatened to get McGonagall for ‘over exuberant practices'. Harry was hungry so he didn't say it, but he had a suspicion that Professor McGonagall might have taken Oliver's side anyway.
Harry shivered on his way inside and breathed in the warm smell of breakfast the second they were in the Great Hall. They were late to breakfast, but Harry still had plenty of time to take the seat Percy saved for him.
"Drink." Percy gave Harry a mug and it smelled like chocolate, Harry didn't even waste time checking the temperature before he gulped it down.
It was hot, not too hot though. It warmed Harry up from the inside out and eased all of his shivering and the lingering chill clinging to his limbs.
"Thanks," Harry told Percy gratefully. Harry tried to unwind the scarf Percy gave him and Percy waved him off.
"Keep it, it's from Mum," Percy said. "Eat up, Harry. Now, what homework do you have left this weekend?"
Loads of it.
Harry talked about his homework with Percy while he ate, listing off all the work he still needed to do. Percy was really organized and made neat notes for Harry, blocking off how long each assignment should take him.
"Oi!" Ron joined them for breakfast just as Percy finished explaining Harry's weekend study schedule. Ron scowled across the table at Percy, though Harry was pretty sure he was just kidding.
"How come you made Harry a schedule?" Ron asked. "You've never made me one before."
"Would you follow it if I did?" Percy asked.
"Uh… do you think Harry will?" Ron turned it around.
"I will," Harry promised quickly. It was nice of Percy to make it for Harry and he even included breaks, it would hopefully get Harry caught up before classes on Monday.
"You're not supposed to play favorites, Perce," Ron said with a huff. "What if Ginny or I needed help, huh? You're supposed to help all of us."
"Then you can use Harry's schedule," Percy said. "And if Ginny wants one, I'd be happy to make her one. Chew with your mouth closed, it's rude."
Harry didn't care if Ron was (probably jokingly?) being jealous, it always felt nice being included as a Weasley. It really made Harry wish that he could go back in time as a baby and crawl from the Dursley's house to the Burrow.
Then Harry could have grown up with all of the Weasleys and really been part of the family instead of just a red-headed pretender.
And Percy's schedule was much easier to follow than any of Hermione's has been. Between the sections Percy made and him popping by occasionally to help, Harry and Ron both had their schoolwork caught up by Sunday evening.
"Good job," Hermione said, clearly impressed when she checked over their work. "I'm glad you two are finally taking your studies seriously. You know that our grades can actually determine the jobs we can get later?"
Harry and Ron grinned while they listened to Hermione's lecture. Harry wasn't too happy about the detention he had with Lockhart that night, but at least it did get him away from thinking about how his potions grade was going to decide if he ever found a job or not.
When it was time for Harry to go, he was surprised when the twins jumped up from the corner where they'd been whispering and followed Harry out of the portrait hole.
Fred tossed an arm around Harry's shoulders playfully, "Oh, our favorite long-lost brother…"
"Where do you think you're going?" George asked, adding his arm around Harry's shoulders as well.
Harry looked from one to the other and knew there was some sort of teasing about to happen, but couldn't be sure what it would be.
"Er… detention," Harry reminded them. "With Lockhart."
"I think it's a tragedy that you did something as noble and brilliant as crashing a flying car in Hogwarts and got punished for it," George said, clicking his tongue eerily like his mum did. "Fred, is this really how future mischief makers are treated in this school?"
"They are curbing young Harry's creativity," Fred said sadly, shaking his head as they turned down the defense corridor. "If every student is punished after a wonderful prank, what kind of future can we expect?"
"A boring one?" Harry said, grinning when the twins chuckled at his joke.
"Exactly!" George pulled them to a stop, several doors away from Lockhart's office. "And I personally find that unacceptable."
"Which means we must take matters in our own hands!" Fred pulled his arm off Harry and put a hand on his heart and his other hand on his forehead in a salute. "This isn't for us, this is for the future!"
Harry laughed, even if he was a bit confused and worried about being late to detention. "I think the future might need to wait?" he said. "Until after detention?"
"Unless…" George rustled around in his robe and pulled out a taffy to dangle in Harry's face. It was orange on one side, blue on the other, and Harry knew the twins well enough to be extremely nervous with the offering.
"Why wait for the future, little brother?" Fred said.
"Because I have detention?" Harry said, still eyeing the candy suspiciously.
"That's true…" George agreed, nodding solemnly. "Unless… unless you were too sick to have detention."
Harry wasn't sure that he liked where the twins were going, but honestly? Lockhart was weird and probably a worse teacher than Quirrell, who had Voldemort on the back of his head, so Harry didn't need all that much prodding to take the taffy and let the twins make their plans.
"Brilliant!!" Fred was whispering loudly in between his bouts of laughter as he helped Harry stumble back down the defense corridor, his bloody nose leaving a trail behind them. "The nosebleed nougat is a success!"
"Is it?" Harry hissed, grimacing at the feeling of dried blood on his face. His nose had stopped bleeding once he took the blue side of the nougat, but there were definitely side effects.
"That'll clear up eventually," George promised, grinning at the bright blue nose Harry was sporting in the center of his face. A nosebleed was one thing, Harry had those before, but a blue nose? A BLUE NOSE?!
Harry's scar got enough attention, thanks.
"And while we wait for it to clear up." Fred started…
"While we hide from Percy and Hermione," George clarified.
Fred pulled them all into a secret corridor, one Harry had never seen before, hidden behind a tapestry of the constellations. Fred pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and tilted his head curiously at George over Harry's head.
"Isn't that what I said?" Fred asked innocently. "While we hide from Percy and Hermione and Harrykins hides his beautiful blue nose from a certain quidditch chaser…"
Harry scowled and would have been more concerned with the blush he could feel burning his cheeks, except it was hidden just fine beneath the dried blood and completely missed compared to the bright blue nose. Harry did not like Katie though, even if the twins acted like he did.
Katie was great - pretty and funny and kind. So was Hermione though and Harry didn't feel like he had a crush on her either.
"Let's introduce our youngest brother to the masters of all mischief, the legacy builders who we will eternally chase…" Fred tapped his wand to the parchment and murmured something quietly. "The Marauders."
Harry was impressed when words began unfolding on the parchment - The Marauders Map - but he was even more impressed when they faded and a true map began to spill over the page, a map of Hogwarts itself.
"Woah," Harry breathed, appropriately impressed. "This is brilliant!"
"We know," George gloated. "It's the key to our successes, left behind for us from a feisty group of freedom fighters that knew pranks will always matter more than grades."
So not Hermione then.
Harry listened to the twins while they explained the map to him and then he hesitated when Fred asked Harry what prank he wanted to play that night. It felt like a test…? One that Harry really didn't study for?
"Er…" Harry looked at the map and saw Ginny walking alone on the sixth floor, Percy patrolling the corridors in the dungeons with Penelope Clearwater. Harry didn't want to bother them, though he did eventually see a dot on the map he wouldn't mind pranking.
"Wittle Malfoy?" George asked, looking where Harry pointed. "Excellent. What's the plan? Terrify him? Disfigure him? Leave him locked in a cupboard alone?"
"Just prank him," Harry said hastily. He didn't want to disfigure anyone, though he probably wouldn't care if Malfoy's perfectly pointed nose was blue.
"Target locked," Fred said seriously. "Weasleys, attack!"
Hermione was going to have a fit when she found out Harry skivved off detention to prank Malfoy, but it was kind of worth it when Malfoy had to show his face at breakfast with his own blue nose.
Malfoy scowled at Harry from across the Hall and Harry, braver with Fred and George beside him, grinned and raised his glass of pumpkin juice mockingly.
"Harry…" Ron turned around to see who it was that Harry was grinning at before narrowing his eyes at Harry suspiciously. "Are you and Malfoy… friends?"
"What? Don't be stupid," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "Who would be friends with a blue-nosed git?"
It made the twins laugh, not Ron though. Ron mumbled something about ‘Charlie's problem' and then stabbed his eggs rather moodily. Harry wasn't sure what the issue was, but he was able to distract Ron by telling him about the voice he heard in the walls the night before.
The twins swore they weren't messing with Harry when they said they couldn't hear it, but it wasn't likely they wouldn't hear some ghost whining about needing to kill people.
*****
On the morning of their first match of the year, Harry was a ball of nerves. The team was laughing and relaxed, but Harry had all of Wood's warnings in his brain about how if they lose - they'll never make it to the cup.
"Alright there, Harry?" Katie asked, noticing that Harry was the only one not joining in the team chants or laughter. "You're not nervous, are you?"
"Nervous? Me?" Harry laughed, a horrible sound he wished he could end, and accidentally knocked his cup over, spilling it directly on the diary Ginny had on the table.
"Clearly not," Hermione sighed, kindly dabbing at the diary with a napkin to clean it off.
"Clearly," Angelina said. "No pressure, Weasley, but if you don't catch the snitch then Oliver will drown himself in the lake."
If that was meant to make Harry feel better, it sorely missed the mark.
Seeing Hedwig flying through the hall, a letter clamped in her beak, did raise Harry's spirits. Harry didn't know who would be writing to him, but a friendly letter was always appreciated.
… though, Harry was torn on if it was a wholly friendly letter after reading it.
Harry,
I know we haven't met yet, but I'm your big brother Charlie. And, up until you joined the team, I was the best seeker Gryffindor ever had. Oliver said you're ten times the seeker I am, so I guess we'll have to test that next time I'm home. Being a seeker is the best spot, even if it has the most pressure. What's your favorite part? Mine was always the rush of the search for the snitch. Don't let anyone stress you about it though, I know how Oliver can get - if its not fun, then it's not worth it.
Ron sent me an owl, he told me that he thinks you and I are a lot alike. I remember being twelve and in my second year… it was rough. Especially because some of my classmates started getting crushes on each other and my crush wasn't the same kind of crush my mates had, if you see what I'm saying.
Harry didn't, actually. Harry did duck his head and move the letter under the table since it was apparently rather personal.
Ron may have named names… three times… each one in giant letters… but I won't. I just wanted to let you know that no matter who you like, boy or girl–
Harry's face was definitely as red as his hair then.
– that none of us will think badly about it, especially not me.
You don't need to explain anything and you don't need to decide anything either. You're twelve, it's your second year, enjoy making friends and kicking Slyherin's arse on the quidditch pitch.
If you ever want to talk quidditch, complain about Oliver who is surely even nuttier now, or talk about anything else - send me an owl. I'm not just here for smuggling illegal dragons out of the castle.
Good luck in your first match… and if this letter is late then I hope you won. I'm sure we'll meet soon.
Take Care,
Charlie
Harry read the letter twice, the second time more slowly than the first. It was… nice, except it also had Harry scowling at Ron after his second read when he tucked it away.
"What?" Ron asked, a bit too innocently. "Good letter?"
"Judging from his blush? I'd say not," George said, slyly eyeing where Harry shoved the letter, making Harry shove it even further in his pocket.
"Team!" Wood stood up and Harry took back all the awful things he said about him - Oliver Wood was his hero as the twins immediately focused on him. "Let's go," he said. "It's time."
"We're going to talk about this later," Harry hissed at Ron before joining the team. Because who did Ron think Harry had a crush on?! And Harry didn't go writing to his siblings when he saw Ron trip after Hermione complimented him after Herbology one day.
The fact that Harry didn't have any siblings didn't matter because… because maybe Harry would write to Charlie about it! Maybe Harry would tell Charlie that Ron tripped after Hermione was nice to him and then Charlie would write Ron an embarrassing letter.
And - and maybe Harry would tell Charlie that the best part of being the seeker was the wind in his hair and the way everyone was so happy when he caught the snitch - when they lit up and raced to hug Harry and it was Harry who made them all smile from ear-to-ear.
Which they still did even when Harry broke his arm and Lockhart removed every bone in his arm.
It happened quickly - Harry hit the ground, splattered mud everywhere. The team was there talking one minute, beaming and praising Harry on a brilliant catch, then Ron and Hermione were there as Lockhart insisted on fixing Harry's arm.
Hermione gasped when the bones were removed - Ron punched Lockhart.
"YOU REMOVED MY BROTHER'S BONES?!" Ron yelled, louder than Harry ever heard him scream. Hermione was helping Harry stand up when suddenly Ron lunged at Lockhart and hit him right in his perfect shining teeth.
Harry definitely would have stopped Ron, if he had any bones in his arm. And the twins probably would have stopped him if they weren't very distracted by the clouds.
Professor McGonagall didn't have as much of a reason to not stop him, though she was probably distracted by giving Gryffindor three points for ‘keen senses of utilizing violence only when appropriate' and ordering Harry to go directly to the Hospital Wing.
All in all, it made for a very exciting letter Harry wrote to Charlie once he had use of his right arm again.
*****
Hogwarts was a different place that year. In Harry's first year, he thought it was the most magical place there could be. Even with Quirrell there, Harry only thought of the place as home.
That year though, people were getting petrified, hurt. There were messages painted on the wall, people glaring at Harry in the corridors after he accidentally revealed he was a Parselmouth. It didn't feel much like home anymore, so when Percy suggested that all the Weasleys go home for the holiday, Harry was bummed.
It would be even less like home without Ron and the others.
"You didn't put your name down?" Ron looked at the list the day Professor McGonagall passed it around after jotting his own name.
Harry tried to muster up a grin, but he really wasn't looking forward to two weeks in the castle alone… or alone with Hermione, brewing a potion he didn't think would help them any.
Was Malfoy a prat? Yeah, he was a brat. Was he petrifying muggleborns? Harry didn't think so. Malfoy spent too much time in front of a mirror, slicking his hair back into the dumbest hairstyle, to do that.
"I figured the less Uncle Vernon sees of me, the better," Harry joked half-heartedly.
"Don't be stupid." Ron picked the quill up and started carefully penning Harry's name. "Mum said you're coming home with us this break."
Harry did not cry about that, but he was elated by it. There was one bright spot of staying at Hogwarts, not that it was bright enough to overrun Harry's desire to go back to the Burrow for Christmas, but…
It would have been fun to ask Malfoy a bunch of questions without him knowing it was Harry, but going home to the Burrow for the break would be much better.
Ginny was weird the first couple of days together at the Burrow, but she relaxed some when Harry offered to fly with her in the back garden. Apparently Ginny loved to fly, she wasn't bad at it either.
"I steal George's broom sometimes," Ginny told Harry, probably the loudest she ever spoke since they had to sort of yell over the wind. It was cold outside, but Percy said when their older brother, Bill, arrived the next day that he'd charm the lawn for them.
"You're good!" Harry told her enthusiastically. "You should join the team! Wood was talking about training extras in case any of us got hurt."
"Really?" Ginny's eyes lit up and she smiled pretty much ear-to-ear. "I - it, well… do you think… maybeicouldtraintobeasseeker?"
Harry blinked, it took him a moment to understand the rush of words that Ginny spit out all at once.
"Oh! Seeker?" Harry asked. "Yeah," he said after Ginny nodded. "C'mon, I'll get some of these tree nuts!"
They were racing, doing nothing but flips and turns in the air. After Harry picked up some tree nuts off the ground, he and Ginny spent nearly the entire day throwing them in the air and then racing to catch them. It was a load of fun, even Ginny seemed to finally be relaxed with Harry after then. There was an odd moment where Ginny grabbed Harry's wrist and apologized, not that Harry knew why she was apologizing, but it had been a good day regardless.
The day before Christmas brought Ron's brother Bill Weasley to the Burrow. Harry sort of expected Bill to be… stuffy looking? But Bill was so cool. He had a ponytail and a leather jacket and he had a fang earring. Mrs Weasley fussed over him, tutting that he needed a haircut, but Harry stared hard in the mirror trying to decide if he could grow his hair out to be that long?
"Heya, Harry."
Apparently it was a Christmas tradition at the Burrow for everyone to spend the evening before Christmas around the Christmas tree, everyone wearing their newly unwrapped Weasley Sweater. Harry's was green with a black H, which he thought was going to be hilarious when Malfoy saw it. Bill had on a dark plum sweater with a ‘01' on the front, since Mrs Weasley fondly said he was the oldest of their kids.
Bill seemed rather easy-going, he only grinned at Harry briefly after sitting beside him before he joined Harry in gazing around at the sitting room, taking it all in. The twins were playing Exploding Snap with Mr Weasley, all three of them roaring with laughter every time something blew up. Ron was being coddled by Mrs Weasley, which Harry assumed he was only tolerating because of the homemade sweets that were on the table beside her. Percy had Ginny on his shoulders, smiling broadly as they swayed and tried to perfect the decorations on the tree.
Harry liked that the ornaments were crooked and imperfect… it made it all seem perfect, in a strange way.
"Perce's fighting a lost cause," Bill whispered to Harry. "Gin's a little mischief maker."
Harry hadn't noticed until Bill pointed, but Ginny was actually just making the ornaments more crooked. Harry ducked his head so Percy didn't see him laughing as he instructed Ginny to fix the handmade silver star.
"They do it every year, it's practically a tradition by now," Bill confided, tossing an arm on the back of the couch behind Harry. "You'll have to pick a tradition too, unless sitting on the couch is your tradition." Bill was grinning, probably just teasing, but that sounded fine to Harry.
If Harry could spend every Christmas Eve with Ron's family, watching them all and getting to feel like part of it all, it would probably be the best tradition he could have. If every Christmas Eve Harry had a knitted stocking hanging on the fireplace, right in between Ron and Ginny's… that would be fine by him.
Returning to Hogwarts after Christmas Break was hard. Mrs Weasley didn't seem like she wanted Harry to go either, she definitely hugged him a few extra times and made him swear to stay safe.
"If you need anything, send me an owl," Bill said, hugging Harry briefly before Harry and the others got on the train. "Percy told me about the shite those kids are saying too," he added quietly enough that Mrs and Mr Weasley didn't hear him. "Remind them that your mum was a muggleborn, James Potter's heritage goes straight to the Peverell's, and the Weasley's sure as hell never married into a Slytherin line," he winked. "Kids are idiots, kill them with common sense, alright?"
"Alright," Harry agreed. "Thanks, Bill."
"Hey, you're family," Bill said, suddenly serious as he squeezed Harry's shoulder. "And that means if common sense doesn't work, tell them you have a big brother who studies curses for a living."
All in all? It was definitely the best Christmas that Harry ever had.
It was even better when Harry and Ron met up with Hermione back at the school and found out that not only did she impersonate Crabbe, but that Malfoy was definitely not the Heir of Slytherin.
*****
There weren't any attacks at all during the first week back at Hogwarts and Hermione said there hadn't been any during Christmas Break. Harry wasn't going to say it, but –
"Am I an arse if I say I was kind of hoping there'd be an attack during Christmas?" Ron asked as the three of them headed to Myrtle's bathroom to clean out the rest of Hermione's brewing equipment. Hermione huffed and Ron held his hands up innocently. "I'm not saying I want anyone dead," he added quickly. "I just mean that if someone had been attacked during the holiday that nobody could blame Harry anymore!"
"Well, let's just hope nobody gets attacked again," Hermione said, which Harry figured was as close to an agreement as she would give. "Here, let's– oh."
Hermione pushed the bathroom door open and water rushed out, soaking all of their trainers. Harry grimaced, hoping very much that it wasn't toilet water, and reluctantly took the lead into the loo. The entire bathroom had several inches of water covering the floor and Myrtle was sobbing loudly above one of the sinks.
"Did you come to throw more things at me?!" Myrtle shrieked at them, startling poor Hermione as she picked up her textbook from the floor of the stall where they had been brewing. "Sure! It's so funny! Throw books at Myrtle, it's not like she can feel it!!"
"I mean, can you?" Ron asked curiously, looking much like he was trying not to laugh. "You are a ghost?"
"I HAVE FEELINGS!" Myrtle yelled, flying right in Ron's face and knocking him back several steps. "HOW WOULD YOU LIKE IT IF I THREW THINGS AT YOU?!"
"Nobody's throwing anything at anyone," Harry said hastily. He spotted a little brown book on the floor and plucked it up, waving it so Myrtle could see it. "Is this what someone threw at you?" he asked. It wasn't much of a weapon, it was only a small journal. There was something familiar about it, but Harry couldn't place it.
"After they tried to flush it, yes," Myrtle huffed. "Kids always think it's okay to pick on me. Do you think I wanted to die here? Be stuck here? DO YOU THINK THAT?!"
"No, we don't," Hermione said patiently, all of her belongings safely stacked in the cauldron she held against her chest. "Did you see who did it, Myrtle?" she asked. "I'd be happy to report them to a prefect if so."
"I think it was a girl," Myrtle said, apparently appeased by Hermione offering to tattle for her. "One of the younger ones, maybe a first year?"
"Yeah, because we're the only blokes hanging out in a girl's bathroom," Ron whispered to Harry, snickering quietly. "And everyone looks younger than Myrtle, she's gotta be older than Dumbledore."
"Excuse you?!" Myrtle must have overheard Ron because she spun around again to scowl fiercely at him. "I was killed fifty years ago, you hateful, freckled, cruel boy!!"
Harry wanted to ask Myrtle about the journal and why someone tried to flush it, but she chased them all out of the bathroom so hatefully that Harry doubted if Myrtle would answer any questions at all for them. Hermione shook her head at Ron and cuffed him on the head.
"You are an insensitive wart," she said haughtily. "Do you ever think before you speak?!"
Ron swore he did, Hermione said he didn't. They bickered all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower, neither of them noticing as Harry flipped through the journal, wondering how it had been soaking in standing water and somehow not a single page had gotten wet?
Harry was still intrigued by the journal and couldn't fall asleep that night, wondering why anyone went to such dramatic lengths to get rid of a journal. There was nothing special about it, nothing aside from an initial on the back in gold ink: Property of T.M. Riddle
All of the pages were blank, nothing at all had been recorded. It was strange enough that Harry slipped out of his bed, retrieved the journal from his trunk, and tiptoed down to the common room to inspect it more. When Harry couldn't find a single thing interesting about it, he decided to write on the first page:
My name is Harry Potter
And then Harry watched as his ink disappeared, seemingly sucked into the journal, and new words appeared in a different handwriting than Harry's had been:
Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle. How did you find my journal?
Harry sucked in a breath and looked around the empty common room, wrapping his arm around the journal just in case, and hesitated for a second before writing back—
Someone threw it away in a bathroom, he wrote. I wanted to know why.
Ah, Tom wrote back quickly. It's probably someone wanting to hide the things I know.
Harry's pulse picked up in excitement, what did Tom know? What could he know that someone would want to hide?
Do you know anything about the Chamber of Secrets? Harry asked. He held his breath, waiting for Tom's response…
Of course I do. I was a student at Hogwarts when the Chamber was opened, Tom wrote. You're not saying it's opened again?!
It is! Harry jotted quickly. A cat, ghost, and student have all been petrified!
That's how it started in my time too. Then it turned into a death and Hogwarts was nearly closed.
Hogwarts could close?!
They never caught the person who did it? Harry wrote, panicked by the idea of the school closing. The very last thing Harry wanted to happen was to be sent back to his relatives. Summers were bad enough, Harry didn't want to try his luck on anything longer than that.
They did, he was expelled, Tom said. If you'd like, I could show you?
It might have been stupid, but Harry needed to know who did it before. If he knew who it was then, maybe he could figure out who was doing it in his time.
Show me.
Hagrid.
It was Hagrid.
Harry was too stunned to do anything after watching Tom's memory of catching Hagrid. It couldn't be… Hagrid wouldn't hurt anyone, definitely not innocent kids like Colin or - or cats.
Hagrid was one of the nicest blokes Harry knew… but, a horrible voice in the back of Harry's mind spoke up, he did have a fondness for dangerous creatures.
Maybe… it was an accident? Maybe Hagrid didn't know his creature was hurting others? Could Harry talk to him?
Should he? Or should Harry turn in what he knew to Professor Dumbledore?
Harry's stomach was aching from thinking through his options, none of them very good, and he jumped when the portrait door opened. Harry started to hide the journal and only stopped when he saw it was Percy.
"Harry?" Percy himself jolted and looked rather guilty (and if Harry wasn't so distracted by the idea that his friend was attacking students, he would have wondered why Percy was returning that far past curfew) when he noticed Harry.
"Why are you awake?" Percy asked, crossing the room quickly to place the back of his hand on Harry's forehead. "Are you sick?"
It felt like he might be, really.
"I just…" Harry didn't want to tell Percy too much and risk Hagrid getting in trouble, but Percy was smart and he was always there to offer help when Harry needed it before.
"If you thought your friend might be doing something awful, what would you do?" Harry asked him, looking up and hoping Percy might have the right words, the magic answer.
Percy sighed heavily and took the chair nearest Harry's, scooting it closer so their knees nearly knocked.
"Is this about the twins's sweets?" he asked kindly. "Because I've tested them all, some of them have dye issues, but I wouldn't let them sneak around with them if they were truly dangerous."
"What?" Harry blinked, caught off-guard. "Er, no, it's not that."
"Oh." Percy nodded and started talking again before Harry could explain. "This is abut Hermione's polyjuice. Don't worry, I swapped her fern seeds for dried ones, there was never any risk."
Harry's mouth fell open.
How did Percy know about that?!
"It… wasn't that either," Harry said, sort of terribly impressed. Percy was apparently a superb prefect. It was no wonder he was up so late, he was clearly a busy bloke.
"It's Hagrid," Harry said, deciding that Percy was exactly the right person to confide in. "I think he might be hurting people, except I doubt it's on purpose…"
Percy's eyebrows flew so high that they knocked his glasses askew, but he listened as Harry explained everything he knew, everything he learned that night. Percy was frowning by the end of it, his wand pointed distrustfully at the journal.
"And you definitely learned this from Ginny's diary?" Percy asked once Harry unloaded it all on him.
"Yes. Wait." Harry glanced at the journal and only then realized that was where he recognized it from.
"Myrtle said a first year was the one who threw it away," Harry said, frowning as well. "Why would Ginny get rid of it?"
"More importantly, how did she get it?" Percy asked grimly. "Harry, I need you to stay here. Don't touch this book, don't let anyone else touch it. I'll be back in five minutes."
Harry, spurred by Percy's intensity, also drew his wand and pointed it at the journal while Percy raced through the room, leaving out the portrait door. It was stupid, but Harry had a very vivid flashback of once trying to convince McGonagall that someone was going to try and steal Flamel's stone and being shut down even when he'd been correct.
It felt nice that Percy not only listened, he didn't tell Harry he was being stood stupid or that his worries were baseless. Percy was… exactly how Harry always imagined an older brother would be like.
There wasn't so much as a creak of stairs between the time Percy left and when he returned. Harry lowered his wand and wasn't wholly surprised to see Professor McGonagall following behind Percy, a black robe thrown over what looked like paw-print pajamas.
McGonagall flicked her wand at the journal and they all watched it float in the air, pulled close enough to McGonagall that she could inspect it without touching it.
"Mister Weasley, I need you to be very sure of this," she said, probably too tired to realize she used the wrong name again, "you're certain that the young man whose memory you witnessed was Tom Riddle?"
"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "Er, at least that's what he said his name was and what others called him in the memory?"
"Can you describe him?" McGonagall asked, no trace of humor on her face at all. McGonagall had actually never looked as severe as she did, Harry might have been truly terrified if he couldn't see the cat print pajamas.
"Tall, kind of thin? Dark hair, I think he wore Slytherin robes?"
And he was handsome, Harry wasn't going to say that though. He didn't care how many letters he shared with Charlie about thinking some blokes might be as cute as Katie Bell, he wasn't saying it to his Head of House.
"I see." McGonagall seemed to actually pale and she gestured for Harry to walk ahead of her, going around the journal. "I'll need you to come with me. Percy, you said Miss Weasley used this journal as well? Bring her straight to the Headmaster's office," she said when Percy nodded. "I'll send a message to your parents, they'll be here soon, I'm sure."
Harry felt as if there were millions of pixies loose in his stomach when he had to walk to Dumbledore's office with McGonagall. He had been told that he was on thin ice after the flying car, Mrs Weasley told him to behave himself.
Was he about to be expelled?
Would be ever be welcome again at the Burrow if so?
"Lemon Lolly," McGonagall said confidently to the gargoyles that guarded Dumbledore's office. Harry was directed to go first and McGonagall followed begin him with the journal floating behind her.
Dumbledore's door opened automatically when Harry neared it and the grim set of Dumbledore's face didn't help Harry's nerves any.
"Harry." Professor Dumbledore inclined his head slightly and he pointed at the chair across from him at his desk. "Please, sit. If you would be so kind, I would appreciate hearing exactly what happened from you, starting just before you found this diary."
Harry started from the beginning, only hesitating when he said that he went in Myrtle's bathroom alone because he heard crying. There was no reason to take Hermione or Ron down with him.
Dumbledore asked a few questions of Harry as he tapped his wand on the journal, flipping a few pages, tapping it again. When Harry talked about being pulled in the memory, Dumbledore's beard twitched harshly.
"Miss Weasley had this before Harry?" Dumbledore asked McGonagall. When she nodded, he looked toward his gold and red bird perched by the window. "Fawkes, fetch Severus and wake Pomona. Have her fetch Miss Weasley."
"The girl should be here soon," McGonagall said. "I've called for Molly and Arthur as well."
"It's for the best they go to the Hospital Wing," Dumbledore said. "I believe that with Mister Potter's recount and the diary here, I'm able to see what I couldn't before. Why don't you join the Weasleys, Minerva? I'll have Severus assist me when I'm finished with Harry here."
If Professor McGonagall was surprised to be abruptly dismissed, she didn't show it. She only patted Harry's shoulder once before taking off and leaving Harry alone with Dumbledore.
"I wonder, Harry, if Tom told you that he too is a Parslemouth," Dumbledore said, fixing Harry with his steady gaze.
Harry shook his head. "Ron told me that the only two Parslemouth's in recent history were me and Voldemort, sir."
Professor Dumbledore nodded slightly. "Ron is correct. As far as I'm aware, the only two I know of are you and Voldemort."
But he just said…?
Harry looked at the solemn blue eyes across from him as the pieces slowly fell in place. When they did, Harry felt his stomach jolt violently.
"Tom Riddle is Voldemort?" Harry asked, eyeing the journal with newfound disgust. "He - I didn't know," he insisted. "I swear, sir, if I knew who this journal belonged to, I would have brought it to you right away."
Oh, God…
Harry covered his face with his hand as the full horror of the situation struck him.
"I thought he was handsome," Harry groaned, forgetting for a moment who it was he confessed that horrible admission to.
Dumbledore snorted, a sound so shocking it pulled Harry's hands down so he could see that Dumbledore was actually grinning at him, not at all as disturbed as he should have been.
"Tom was a handsome child, an attractive man for some time as well," Dumbledore said, making Harry feel a little better. "I wouldn't concern yourself with it, Harry, I'm sure the next person you have similar thoughts of won't be on the same caliber as Tom."
Harry appreciated that and decided that perhaps he should just never think anything about anyone ever again. It was much safer that way.
"My question, Harry, is specifically about your ability," Dumbledore said, thankfully changing the subject. "I wonder, with all I know now, if you've heard anything… concerning, at all?"
Anything concerning?
Harry tried to think of what Dumbledore might mean and he nearly said no when a strange thing from months before floated back in his memory.
"There was a thing, one night," Harry said slowly, trying to remember exactly what happened. "I was with the twins after I skipped - er… after Professor Lockhart let me leave detention…"
Dumbledore smiled slightly and didn't interrupt, so Harry went on.
"I heard a voice, except I thought it was the twins, pulling a prank," he explained. "It sounded like it was coming from the walls, and it said - er… well, it said it wanted to kill someone, sir."
"I see," Dumbledore said. "Have you heard that voice any other time, Harry?"
"On Halloween," Harry said. "Nobody else heard it though, and — Sir!" Harry's eyes grew wide as something suddenly occurred to him. "It might have been a snake!" he said. "Because I was the only one who heard it and I'm the only one who can hear snakes!"
"Merlin." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and nodded slowly. "It had not occurred to me, Harry, but I believe you may be correct."
"And it makes sense!" Harry jumped to his feet, pushed by his thrill of understanding. "It's Slytherin's monster, sir. And Slytherin's house has a snake! And - and! That means it wasn't Hagrid who controlled it before, it was Tom! He framed Hagrid!"
Harry was pacing, caught up in his own excitement at having put it all together.
"Except who did it this time?" he wondered. "My scar didn't hurt, so it's not Voldemort, and it's not me… Who—"
There was a great clamor on the stairs leading up to Dumbledore's office. Harry would have assumed it was Snape, except he was sure Snape had never made that much noise in his entire life.
"IT WAS ME!" Ron yelled, throwing the office door open and angering several of the prior Headmasters on the wall. Ron stood there in his holey pajama pants and oversized shirt and puffed his chest out as he looked right at Dumbledore.
"Harry's not the Heir of Slytherin, I am," he said, his sudden declaration silencing the grumbling portraits. "You can't expell him, expell me."
There was… probably a zero percent chance that Ron was the Heir of Slytherin. It wasn't that he wasn't clever enough for it, it was that Ron never missed a chance to talk about how much he hated Slytherin.
"No you're not," Harry said, bemused.
"No brother of mine is getting expelled and going back to those nutters," Ron hissed at Harry. "Not that he would anyway, since I'm the Heir," he told Dumbledore.
Harry might have been more surprised that Ron was willing to take an expulsion for him if Ron wasn't the same mate that sat atop a chess piece and sacrificed himself so Harry could stop Voldemort.
"An interesting statement," Dumbledore said evenly. Harry hoped Dumbledore wasn't taking Ron serious. He didn't think he was, based on how much Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling.
"And here many are under the misconception that it's only Hufflepuff capable of such displays of loyalty," he said. "I thank you, Mister Weasley, for—"
Ron was abruptly pushed out of the way as another person burst in the office. It was Mister Weasley that time, panting and also dressed in his night clothes.
"Lucius Malfoy!" Mister Weasley roared, pointing a finger at Dumbledore. "You leave my son out of this, Albus. Lucius Malfoy was the one to slip a diary in Ginny's belongings. If anyone's off to Azkaban, it should be him!"
Harry was under the impression that Mister Weasley was adamantly defending Ron at first. Then —
"I'll fight every auror you have if you think the Ministry is going to touch one hair on Harry's head!" Mister Weasley pulled his wand, drawing shocked comments from the portraits. "I mean it, Albus!"
Ron sort of shuffled over by Harry to get out of the line of fire between Mister Weasley and Dumbledore. Until that very moment, Harry would have said that he didn't think Dumbledore could ever lose a duel to anyone.
But then Mister Weasley stood there, his eyes blazing and his wand drawn, right after he said - after he said Harry was his son.
"Arthur, Ronald, please." Dumbledore raised his hands innocently. "I'm concerned there may be a miscommunication here—"
"He should be concerned about the twins, they're ready to fight too," Ron whispered, still scowling at Dumbledore. "He's taking you over our dead bodies."
"Harry is in no trouble," Dumbledore said. "In fact, I believe his actions tonight may have saved several lives. If you would lower your wand, Arthur, I would be happy to explain what I believe has happened."
"Oh. Phew." Ron's shoulders sagged and he laughed as he clapped Harry's back merrily. "See, Har? You're not in trouble! You're a hero again!"
Mister Weasley looked abashed as he lowered his wand and muttered apologies. It probably didn't help his red-faced blush that he was promptly hit in the behind with the door as it was opened again.
Harry half-expected it to be Fred or George, maybe even Ginny. Dumbledore definitely seemed to be expecting another Weasley because Harry heard him sigh very quietly.
It was Snape that time and, aside from Harry, he was the only person in the office that wasn't wearing pajamas.
"Headmaster." Snape looked around the room slowly, his eyes lingering on Harry for only a split-second. "You called for me?" he asked Dumbledore.
"I did." Dumbledore swished his wand and had another chair added across his desk and two squashy looking purple chairs popping into existence behind Harry and Ron. "If everyone would have a seat, I will instruct my gargoyles to allow us a moment of peace so I may explain. Incidentally," Dumbledore peered at Ron curiously, "how were you able to bypass my stellar security measures?"
"I told them I'd blow them to bits if they didn't let me in," Ron mumbled, his ears as red as his hair.
"Arthur?"
"The same thing, with perhaps a few different words."
"Cowards," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Alas! Now that we're all together and Harry has solved this mystery for me, allow me to explain what has been happening this year…"
Harry, following Ron's lead, snuggled down in his chair to listen. It was nice when Dumbledore flicked his wand again and a tray of hot chocolate and sandwiches appeared Harry and Ron. It was probably lucky that Ron took a sandwich first and not a drink though because it might have gotten thrown at Dumbledore's dramatic declaration—
"I believe that it was not Harry who opened the Chamber of Secrets, but Ginny Weasley."
"ALBUS, I SWEAR TO MERLIN!"
"Certainly not," Snape snapped while Mister Weasley looked ready to throw his wand away and throttle Dumbledore.
"Please, gentlemen, let an old man explain," Dumbledore said, sounding weary for the first time since being woken. "I do not believe Miss Weasley did so of her own accord, but that she had been possessed…"
Dumbledore shared his theory then, his theory that Voldemort had possessed Ginny through the diary and that she had been unwillingly, and probably unknowingly, committing acts for him. Dumbledore explained that Ginny must have become suspicious about Tom as she threw the diary in the bathroom, hoping to rid herself of it.
"Which is where Harry here came in," Dumbledore said. "I imagine that Tom was all too gleeful to have Harry write to him. Thankfully, Harry brought it to Percy's attention and it was brought directly to me. And now, thanks to all of your children, Arthur, I believe I know what the monster is and the most likely place for the entrance to the chamber where it resides.
"Severus, if you would, I believe an inspection of the female restroom on the second floor may provide some luck," Dumbledore said. "Ask Myrtle to keep watch for you, tell her it was I who sent you. Be vigilant, Severus."
Snape looked faintly disgusted with the task given to him, but he nodded without arguing and left at once.
"I… goodness." Mister Weasley mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. "This is horrible, just horrible. Albus, I - I mean, Ginny's a girl, just a young girl."
"And wholly blameless," Dumbledore said without delay. "You believe it was Lucius Malfoy who slipped the diary in her belongings?"
"Well, she said that she found the diary with her books and he had his filthy hands on them…"
"A conversation worth having tomorrow with the Board of Governors," Dumbledore said. "Why don't you and Molly take the children home, Arthur? I believe classes will be canceled tomorrow as I doubt if their transfiguration professor will feel up to teaching after I have her assist on another job."
"Can Harry come?" Ron asked immediately. "Please, Dad?" he asked. "Harry's - uh… traumatized! Yes! He's traumatized and we can't just leave him here alone!"
Harry yawned, which may have been the wrong thing to do if he was meant to be acting especially traumatized.
"Yes, yes, of course," Mister Weasley said, the best news Harry heard all night.
… morning?
"Your mother and I thought we'd talk to you all over summer, but… yes, of course," Mister Weasley said. "Come, boys, we'll get the others. Albus, thank you," Mister Weasley shook Dumbledore's hand several times. "After everything before, for me to turn around and think you'd… I can't apologize enough…"
"No apologies necessary," Dumbledore said kindly. "In fact, why don't you keep the children for an extra day, make a long weekend of it. I trust that you'll have plenty to celebrate?"
"Yes, came just yesterday," Mister Weasley said, beaming.
Harry looked at Ron and he shook his head, apparently as mystified by the conversation as Harry was.
"Excellent!" Dumbledore cried. He stepped around his desk and offered his hand to Ron. "Mister Weasley, have a wonderful weekend. And why don't you take twenty points for Gryffindor for such determined loyalty?"
"Oh, thank you, sir," Ron said, blushing faintly as he shook Dumbledore's hand.
"Of course, of course." Dumbledore offered Harry his hand last. "And thank you, Mister Weasley, I couldn't be more proud that your decisions tonight truly could have saved countless lives. I think that deserves an even fifty points, don't you?"
Harry pictured the short lead Gryffindor had in the cup before then and felt like he was walking through a dream as he imagined how far ahead they would be then. Harry thanked Dumbledore and then pretty much floated down the stairs beside Ron.
"Even Dumbledore can't tell us apart," Ron grinned, shouldering Harry lightly. "Mum and Dad might as well adopt you, Harry, everyone thinks you're a Weasley anyway."
Mister Weasley tripped on the step and Harry offered him an arm, concerned that he might break his neck on their way back to the Hospital Wing with the others.
"Come along, boys," Mister Weasley said hastily. "Molly must be wondering where we are."
"Hermione's going to have kittens," Ron said brightly. "Imagine when we get back on Monday and we tell her that we solved the whole thing without her!"
"I think she'll be more mad that classes are being cancelled," Harry laughed. "Oh, Ron! No potions this week!"
"And Snape has to deal with Myrtle!"
The boys high-fived outside of the Hospital Wing door, just before they were pulled into spine-breaking, lung-crushing, hugs by Mrs Weasley. Harry didn't mind his hug too much, it was something about Mrs Weasley's hugs that always felt like… well… exactly like how a mum would feel.
As soon as Mrs Weasley let go of Harry, Harry was attacked by a red-headed blur that ended up being a sobbing Ginny.
"I'm so sorry, Harry," she wailed. "It was me! It was all me!!"
Harry patted Ginny on the back awkwardly, relieved when Mrs Weasley intervened and pulled Ginny off him.
"Poppy gave her a calming draught, she might need more," Mrs Weasley said, smoothing Ginny's hair down lovingly.
"Albus told us to take the kids home until Sunday evening," Mister Weasley told Mrs Weasley, waving for the others to join them. "We can give it to her there."
"Arthur…" Mrs Weasley glanced at Harry, so quickly he nearly missed it, then turned her body so she could whisper to Mister Weasley without Harry even seeing her mouth. The two of them conversed like that for a few seconds, Harry got the strange feeling they were discussing him and he hoped they weren't changing their minds about Harry going home with them for the weekend.
"Fred, George, Percy, Ginny, let's floo ahead," Mrs Weasley said abruptly, almost too casually. "Your father will apparate the boys home."
Ron furrowed his brow. "Why?"
"I think that Harry should go by apparation," she said firmly. "There's too many fireplaces between Hogwarts and home, I'd hate for Harry to end up in a strange place again."
That was one time. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes while the others lined up behind Mrs Weasley to take Madam Pomfrey's floo. Mrs Weasley muttered something to George and Percy just before George let out a delighted whoop and Harry swore he winked at him before Harry was once again ushered off by Mister Weasley.
They walked in silence through the entrance hall, out the main doors, and onto the chilly path that led down to the gates. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting orange streaks over the frost-covered grass. A figure moved in the distance, silhouetted against the glow.
It was Hagrid. And as soon as Hagrid spotted Harry, he waved brightly, calling a cheery good morning as they passed each other.
Harry's throat tightened in guilt. It was absurd of him to even think, for once second, that Hagrid had been responsible for hurting Colin or Nick or Mrs Norris. Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and dropped his head - he wasn't going to make the mistake of rushing to judgment again, not even to himself.
"Alright, boys, take my hands," Mister Weasley said once they passed the gate. "Apparation is uncomfortable, but not horrible. Off we go then."
They disappeared at the turn of Mister Weasley's feet and Harry chalked it up to the first ever lie Mister Weasley told him.
Because apparation was horrible.
With a crack, they landed on the lawn of the Burrow. Harry stumbled and nearly fell, he was only barely caught by Ron. Harry's stomach felt awful, and Ron was positively green.
"It is a bit strange the first time," Mister Weasley said, sounding distracted. "Wait here, Harry, Ron. I'll tell you when you can come in."
"What?" Ron let go of Harry and Harry's knees shook too much to stand up so he fell on his bottom on the cold and wet ground. Since Mister Weasley told him not to go inside yet anyway Harry let his head fall back to the ground too.
Ron groaned and dropped onto the grass after his dad trotted up the front steps and slipped through the door without answering anything, only giving another order to stay put.
"This whole day is bonkers," Ron sighed. "You reckon Dad snapped? This was the final straw for the poor bloke?"
"Maybe," Harry said, squinting at the house. There was something off about it, something he couldn't figure out on his own. "Hey, Ron, was your room always that size?"
Harry spent some time flying around the Burrow, he had a pretty decent idea about how much space there was between the crooked addition that was Ron's room and the tree that sat in front of the barn. The space had definitely narrowed.
"Did they do a remodel while we were at school?" Ron wondered. "Oh, no… I hope Mum's not pregnant."
Harry actually liked the idea of the Weasleys having a baby. Babies were cute, red-headed babies were probably ten times as cute.
"Maybe your parents are putting Percy in your room so they have an open one," Harry offered, secretly hoping very much it was the baby thing instead.
"Maybe they'll put you in my room!" Ron said eagerly.
"Maybe they're putting the gnomes in your room."
"Maybe they're putting me in a closet and giving Fred his own extra-large room."
"Don't joke," Harry said even though he was laughing. "The Dursleys had me sleep in a cupboard so Dudley didn't have to give up his second bedroom."
Ron went quiet for a second, then -
"They're all nutters," he said finally. "Your relatives, I mean. Proper, grade-A nutters. If I ever meet them, I'm going to punch one right in the nose."
Harry grinned. "Even Aunt Petunia?"
"Especially Aunt Petunia," Ron said seriously. "She gave birth to Dudley, didn't she?"
Harry snorted, and Ron leaned back on his elbows with a huff. Harry didn't know if Ron was as tired as he was, but Harry really hoped Mister Weasley called for him soon so they could go to bed.
Only moments after Harry thought that, Percy was at the doorway, telling them they could come inside. Percy seemed especially odd, his whole face was twitching like he wanted to smile and was forcing himself to look… bored?
"Why do you look constipated?" Ron asked, pulling Harry to his feet. "You need sleep, Percy, I think you're cracking up."
Percy rolled his eyes and yanked Ron in the house, shoving him so he walked in front of him and Harry followed behind them both. It felt good to be back in the Burrow, it was warm and smelled like—
"WELCOME HOME!"
A room full of Weasleys yelled in Harry's face the second he stepped into the sitting room.
Harry looked around the room in complete confusion at what looked like a very poorly planned party. There were mismatched streamers strung haphazardly from every corner; some red, some gold, one definitely purple with green polkadots for some reason. A crooked banner was barely hanging from the ceiling with a piece of Spellotape, painted in big uneven letters that read:
JOIN US, HARRY
The red paint that made up half the letters dripped ominously beneath the words, adding to the sense of disbelief rising inside of Harry.
Even the blue letters beneath it, boldly saying ‘WELCOME HOME!', were less concerning than the top line.
"What?" Harry laughed nervously and pushed his glasses up. Was he… being recruited? Join what?
"Ignore the banner, we wanted to surprise you." Mrs Weasley stepped up and had a dust covered apron over her clothes and a rolled up parchment with an official looking ribbon tied around it stuck out of the front pocket.
Well, Harry was definitely surprised.
"Harry, dear." Mrs Weasley took both of Harry's hands in hers and smiled warmly down at him. "There's something we'd like to ask you. Now, don't think we rushed into things all willy-nilly. We've thought this through, thought about what was best for you, for our family, for everyone really. We've gotten all of our kneazles in a row and now all that's left is for you to agree, dear. But take your time! There's no rush!"
"Sorry…" Harry looked around at the others who all smiled at him, it was kind of creepy. At least Ron wasn't smiling, he was as clearly confused as Harry.
"But take my time with what?" Harry asked.
Mrs Weasley let out a breath like she'd been holding it for days and then laughed lightly. She muttered something about being silly under her breath as she gave his hands a quick squeeze before fishing the parchment from her apron pocket and handing it to Harry with slightly trembling fingers.
"All it needs is your agreement," she said softly.
There was a loud pop as one of the balloons hanging from the rafters gave up and exploded on its own. No one flinched. No one said anything. It was entirely silent as Harry's eyes were stuck on the very top line of the document.
Petition for Adoption
And just before that, Harry's name. Just beneath Harry's, it was:
Petitioners: Arthur and Molly Weasley
Harry's breath caught in his throat.
It wasn't real.
It was a prank, a dream, the entire day was a fever dream and Harry was actually dying in the Hospital Wing.
"It's real," Mister Weasley said, lightly placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and nodding down at him, somehow guessing exactly what Harry was questioning. "You don't have to accept it, Merlin knows the Weasley name isn't anything fancy or special, but—"
"Yes," Harry blurted out. Once he said it once, he felt like he needed to say it again, make sure they heard him. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I - yes."
Yes to all of it.
Yes to no longer being a pretend Weasley, but a real one. Yes to never going back to his aunt or uncle. Yes to being a part of the best family Harry knew.
Yes, one million and infinite times yes.
"Yes?" Mrs Weasley's smile unfolded slowly and then all at once as she joyfully threw her arms around Harry for the second time that morning and wrapped him in another fierce hug. "Yes!" she cried.
"YES!" The others were cheering and throwing confetti at each other, dancing around the room like it wasn't five in the morning. Ron gaped for an instant and then let out the loudest cheer Harry ever heard and launched himself at his parents and Harry, turning it into a confusing and many-armed group hug.
"WEASLEY! WEASLEY! WEASLEY!" Fred and George chanted, pulling Ginny into their dance and cheer.
"Thank you," Harry mumbled, muffled against Mrs Weasley's shoulder, trying very hard not to cry. It was… he just…
Harry didn't have to ever go back to his relatives. Harry didn't have to correct anyone when they called him a Weasley.
Harry wasn't a pretend Weasley anymore, he was a real Weasley. Or, he would be, all he had to do was sign his name on the document he held.
Mrs Weasley had tears actually pooling in her eyes when Harry wriggled from her grip and thickly asked someone for a quill. Percy passed him one, not before he took Harry and hugged him as well. Ron crowded behind Harry with his parents (their parents) and watched as Harry put the quill to parchment with trembling fingers.
At the very bottom of the parchment was the line for Harry's signature, the one step he had to take to be part of a family.
Harry James Potter, he wrote. Then, with a smile tugging at his lips, he added on: Weasley.
It would be the signature Harry used for the rest of his life.
"Welcome home, Harry," Mrs Weasley (Molly? Mum? Harry wasn't sure what to call her, but he thought he'd have plenty of time to find out) said with more joy in those three words than Harry ever felt.
And Harry?
Harry was happy when he was flying. Harry was happy when Katie Bell smiled at him or Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes at Harry across the Great Hall. Harry was happy when he helped his team win a quidditch match.
Harry wasn't anywhere near happy then, he was light years beyond it.
Harry looked at the banner again, staring at the blue paint until his vision blurred from unshed tears he had to blink away.
WELCOME HOME!
Home.
Harry was finally home.
And they all lived happily ever after until Percy one day sides with the Ministry over Harry, breaking Harry’s heart, and until Fred dies and nothing is ever the same for their family again.
The End