Sunday, 22 December 1991
Harry stared at the three wands before him. He was meant to be getting ready for the ball (which didn't start for several more hours), but all he needed to do was get dressed and then ask Sirius to make an attempt at taming his hair which would last all of seven minutes before his father gave up and walked off grumbling about Potter genes. So, really, he had time.
He loved his Holly wand, it served him well and felt incredibly loyal. It was an effective channel for his magic and the Gryffindor in him sang whenever he held it. But Ignotus' wand resonated with another part of him; the part that carried Peverell blood and spoke freely with Death. Carrying that wand made of Elder and Grim made him feel safe. He couldn't use it from day-to-day, though. It reeked of Death Magic and was seeped in power.
"What troubles you, παιδί μου?" Death asked, appearing over Harry's shoulder.
"I don't want to choose between these two," Harry explained, gesturing to the Holly and Elder wands. "But carrying three wands feels a little excessive."
"I still don't understand why you're carrying a wand at all," Death grumbled.
Harry rolled his eyes, looking up at the deity he'd known his whole life with a huff, "I have to use a wand at school and I can't just go about slinging around Druidic magic and then telling everyone I was raised by Merlin, they'd have me committed."
"You have a point," Death admitted before pausing, a thoughtful look in his eye. "I'm going to do something stupid, hand me your Peverell ring."
Harry thought about it for all of a second before shrugging and pulling the gold and onyx ring off and handing it over. He wasn't sure how much he liked the idea of an all-powerful entity doing something 'stupid' but he sort of wanted to see what would happen.
Death picked up Ignotus' wand and Harry's ring and grumbled something about an old codger hoarding some sort of cloak before tapping the wand to the face of the ring. Harry watched in awe as the ring glowed slightly before the wand disappeared.
"Here," Death said. "Simply will the wand into existence and it shall appear. If you come into possession of any other artifacts that feel like my magic you'll be able to store them in this ring as well."
"Thank you," Harry said with a bright smile as he slid the ring back into place. He wasn't sure what other artefacts existed that were made with Death's magic but he wasn't about to question this gift. He quickly slipped his two remaining wands into his wrist holster when he heard a knock at his door.
"Bambi?" Sirius called, pulling the door open just enough that he could poke his head through, "can you come downstairs?"
Harry thanked Death once more before bidding him goodbye and following his father out into the hall, "what's up?"
"I need you to entertain Draco because he's worse than his mother and if they're both trying to fix the decorations I'm going to end up killing someone and you've already gone to the trouble of breaking me out of prison once, I don't want you to have to do it again."
"Fine but if this somehow ends in me getting dragged into helping with the decorations I'm killing you."
* * *
Harry was in his dress robes (a pitch black robe over perfectly tailored black slacks and a burgundy silk button-down, and, in true House Black fashion, what seemed to be the entire galaxy was embroidered into his robes in fine golden thread) standing in the entrance hall pretending to be excited. He was well aware that he needed to get used to greeting the masses and being the centre of attention as the Future King, but he generally chose to pretend that reality was far, far away. He was also well aware that the attention he was getting as Heir Black was nothing in comparison to what he'd one day get as King Harrison Pendragon.
He wanted to go to bed.
Finally, finally, he was allowed to leave (with the expectation that he'd still be visible in the ball room). However, the moment he stepped out of the entrance hall, someone grabbed his upper arm and pulled him through the room. The magic was familiar and non-threatening so he didn't even think about it before blindly following along. It wasn't until they came to a stop several minutes later that Harry made any real effort to identify the person he was privately calling his saviour, "Blaise?"
"You looked like you needed an out."
"You're the love of my life."
"Careful there, Harry," Neville laughed from somewhere over Harry's shoulder, "don't give him any ideas."
"Where are we right now?" Harry asked instead of dignifying Neville with a real response.
"Not sure," Blaise shrugged, flopping down onto a couch without any sort of decorum, "we sort of just wandered until we found an empty room that was also unlocked. It might be some sort of lounge? This place is huge."
"Also, isn't this where you live?" Theo asked from where he was sitting sprawled out on the floor at Neville's feet. "Shouldn't you know where we are?"
"Yesterday was the first time I've been in this building since I was five," Harry explained. "We live at Ravenwood Hall which is out near Bristol."
"Huh," Theo hummed. "How long do you think we can hide before someone notices?"
"Now why would you jinx it?" Harry huffed when the door swung open the moment Theo finished speaking to reveal a slightly ruffled Draco (dressed identically to Harry but for the emerald green shirt and silver stars), glaring daggers at his cousin.
"Harrison Potter-Black, you are not allowed to disappear without me. I asked mother where you were and I was told, in no uncertain terms, to find and fetch you when she realized you weren't in the room."
"You couldn't have just gone looking?" Harry said, entirely exasperated. "You had to call attention to the fact that I wasn't there?"
"Sorry," Draco said, sounding not even sort of apologetic. "Let's go."
"I hate you."
"You really don't."
"I do, though," Harry said even as he followed his cousin from the room, Neville, Theo, and Blaise trailing behind.
"You don't," Draco repeated, "you love me, really. I'm your favourite person, your best friend, your cousin, all in one."
"Of that list, I'd only agree that you're my cousin."
"Rude."
"I'm not even your best friend," Harry pointed out, "I don't know which of your darling snakes is but it's one of them, not me."
"True, but that doesn't mean that I can't be your best friend."
"Okay, but you're not. Ron and Hermione are my best friends."
"But what about me being your favourite person? That must be true."
"It's really not. My favourite person is my dad -"
"Ouch," Sirius said, appearing out of nowhere with an overexaggerated frown on his face. "I see how it is."
"You interrupted me," Harry huffed, "I was going to say my dad, my papa, or, if we were talking about people at school, George."
"George Weasley?" Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow with a glint in his eye that Harry didn't like one bit.
"I still don't understand how you can tell them apart," Theo said with the deeply frustrated air of someone who'd spent far too many hours trying to figure it out.
"Their magic feels different," Harry answered without thinking. He probably should've said that their eyes were slightly different colours because he still can't find a way to describe the differences in their magic without saying that Fred's feels like a raging fire and George's feels like home. He was saved from having to make any sort of explanation by the arrival of Narcissa who looked like she couldn't decide if she was more fed up with Sirius, Harry, or Draco and had decided to just be angry at all three.
"Ballroom. Now."
"Yes, Cissy," Sirius said at the same time Harry and Draco grumbled a chorus of yes, Aunt Cissa and yes, mumbefore following her back amongst the masses.
* * *
Wednesday, 25 December 1991
Harry woke up to a cold nose pressed against his cheek and someone sitting down next to him and running their fingers through his hair.
"Good morning," Remus said softly.
"G'morning, dad," Harry mumbled, rolling over to get closer to his father's warmth. He wasn't really feeling like rushing to wake up and the castle was constantly cold this time of year so he was happy with any sort of warmth he could find.
"It's Christmas, cub," Remus said, laughing lightly as Padfoot maneuverered his way under Harry's duvet and cuddled up next to the only half-awake boy. "You've got some presents if you'd like to open them."
"I don't wanna get up."
"Well good thing they're right at the end of your bed, then, right?"
Harry let out a light huff before sitting up, staying as close to Remus as he could as he stuck out a hand to summon one of the several jumpers laying around the room. He grinned when he realized it was James' Quidditch hoodie and pulled it on, causing his hair to stick out at even more insane angles. Sirius appeared more than happy to stay as Padfoot, happily snoring with his giant shaggy head on Harry's pillow but Remus seemed even more excited than Harry at the prospect of presents. Harry couldn't help but smile at the childlike joy in his father's eyes. Merlin, Sirius, and Arcturus had all grown up with Yule but Remus, with his Muggle mother, had always celebrated Christmas and made sure that Harry celebrated both, knowing it's what Lily would've wanted.
He handed Harry the first gift on the pile, a small parcel wrapped in thick brown paper with To Harry, from Hagridscratched across the top. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute that Hagrid had whittled himself. When Harry blew into it, the noise that came out sounded exactly like an owl's hoot, much to Hedwig's delight.
The second package was rather lumpy and also wrapped in brown paper. Harry had no clue who it was from but it had made it past the wards at Ravenwood Hall where all their mail went and then through the wards at Camelot so he was certain it was safe. He unwrapped it to find a thick, dark green, hand-knitted sweater with an 'H' stitched in with golden yellow thread and a large box of homemade fudge. Attached to the box was a note in loopy handwriting: Harry, Happy Christmas! I hope you've enjoyed your first months at Hogwarts and are enjoying your holiday break. My boys and my mother-in-law have only great things to say about you so I can't wait to meet you, we'll have to find a time this summer for you to visit the Burrow. Enjoy your break, dear. -Molly Weasley.
Harry grinned as the traded his father's hoodie for his brand new Weasley sweater. He'd heard Ron complaining about getting a maroon sweater every single year before leaving for break and was rather chuffed that Mrs. Weasley had deemed him important enough to knit a sweater for, he'd have to be sure to write her a note.
The next gift was a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione. He passed one over to his father, the only person he knew who loved chocolate more than he did, and reached for the next package, a small envelope with his name inked in a familiar scrawl. Inside was a thin bracelet made of braided black leather with a bronze clasp. Even if he hadn't recognized the handwriting he would've known who this was from; he could feel George's magic embedded in the metal.
He couldn't have kept the smile off his face if he'd tried.
He'd mentioned once, weeks prior while hiding out in the kitchens, that George's magic felt like home, that it made him feel safe. He hadn't even realized he'd said it out loud until George went silent before sending Harry one of his blinding smiles. He hadn't mentioned it again, but apparently he'd remembered. He'd remembered and then he'd found a way to imbue a bracelet with that magic so Harry could keep it close.
Remus very kindly didn't ask questions as his son immediately slipped the bracelet on and turned back to his gifts.
There was a parcel of sweets from Ron with a note wishing him a happy Christmas and then complaining about how boring it was being stuck in the castle alone. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been able to save enough money to visit their son Charlie in Romania but hadn't been able to bring all of their children. Harry knew Ron had been rather excited to have free range of the castle but he could understand that it'd probably get rather dull with only your siblings around for company.
Most of his family had given him gifts for Yule but he opened the selection of Muggle novels that Remus always gave him for Christmas in his relentless pursuit to make sure Harry experienced everything the world had to offer before he grabbed the last package.
There was nothing written on the outside and it was incredibly light. Harry couldn't help but notice how familiar the magic felt even before he unwrapped it.
"It feels like Death," he whispered, mostly to himself, though if Remus stiffening beside him was any indication his father had heard him.
When he tore open the paper, he found something fluid and silvery grey.
"It can't be," Remus said softly, running gentle fingers over the ever-shifting fabric.
"What is it?"
"James' cloak."
"This doesn't feel like dad's magic," Harry said. "This is Death's."
That woke Sirius up.
"Hold on, why does James' cloak feel like Death's magic?"
"The Three Brothers," Remus said in an awed whisper.
"You think?"
"Wait, like the brothers from the Tales of Beedle the Bard?" Harry asked, still staring at the cloak, mesmerized by the feel of its magic, something in his very core screaming mine.
"Yeah," Remus confirmed.
"Let me try something," Harry said before he tapped his Peverell Heir ring to the fabric. Just as he thought would happen, the ring glowed slightly before the cloak disappeared from sight, joining the wand in whatever storage space Death had created in Harry's ring.
"How'd you do that?" Sirius asked, looking back and forth between the space the cloak had just sat and Harry's hand.
"After I made my own wand, Death made it so I could store Ignotus' wand in my Heir Ring so I didn't have to walk around with three wands in my holster."
"Why are you carrying three wands in the first place?"
"I use my Holly wand every day but it's a brother wand to Tom's so it makes sense to have a backup … or two."
Harry didn't want to mention that he remembers being six-years-old and overhearing Sirius explaining to Merlin that James had faced off with Voldemort unarmed because he'd left his wand on the couch. He didn't want to mention the all-consuming panic he felt in the few moments he'd realized he was in public without any sort of weapon, even though he was well aware that he was more proficient wandless. He never went anywhere without a wand and at least one blade. Knowing that the Sword of Gryffindor was hidden as a bracelet wrapped around his wrist and would respond to his call and that he'd always have a wand stored in an Heir Ring only he could remove was a balm on his anxious soul that he didn't think he'd ever quite be able to explain.
Thankfully, Sirius and Remus took that explanation in stride and didn't ask further questions.
"Breakfast?" Remus asked, clearing his throat slightly.
"Breakfast," Sirius agreed. "And then we're building snowmen and I will hear no complaints from either of you."
"As long as I get hot cocoa in the end you won't hear me complaining," Harry said, scrambling out of bed to follow Sirius into the hall.
* * *
Sunday, 5 January 1992
The Platform was rather busy. They'd gotten there later than they had back in September as there was no longer any point in even sort of concealing the fact that Harry didn't live with a Muggle family.
"Harrison, look at me," Sirius said softly as he saw Harry hesitate slightly to head toward the Express. He knew his kid was excited to return to Hogwarts but he also knew Harry was still a tad wary of the world outside of Camelot. He was an incredibly well trained and well educated child, but that didn't necessarily mean he hadn't also been rather well isolated. Sirius could understand, those first few months he'd worked with Gringotts had been jarring; leaving the safety of the walls of the castle and the wards at the city gates to venture into the big wide world full of unknown threats and constant change was, simply put, a lot. "You are a wonderful young man. You are smart, you are kind, you are incredible. You did so well during your first term and this term will be no different. We'll be there for your next quidditch match and before you know it you'll be home for summer, alright, mon soleil?"
"Alright," Harry agreed softly, pressing his forehead against Sirius' neck, almost like he was trying to hide from the world. "I'm going to miss you, papa."
"I'm going to miss you too, darling boy," Sirius said softly, wrapping his arms tighter around Harry's frame. "I miss you every moment you're out of my sight but I am so proud of you and I am so excited to hear about everything you get up to this term. Write me as often as you're willing but at least once a week, okay?"
"Of course," Harry agreed easily, "je t'aime, papa."
"Je t'aime, mon soleil."
Harry pulled out of Sirius' grasp to hug Remus who simply held him tight and whispered that he was loved, so deeply loved, and then reminded him once again to write home, "I will see you soon, cub," Remus said softly, "and you'll be having so much fun at school that you'll hardly have time to miss us. I love you to the moon and back, brenin bach."
"I love you too, Dad," Harry said, squeezing tighter for just a moment before he moved to Arcturus, "je t'aime, grandpére," he said softly, hugging his grandfather as tight as he could.
"Je t'aime, mon soleil," Arcturus whispered back. "You're the light of my life, you know that right?"
"You've mentioned it."
"Well don't forget it. I love you dearly, Harrison. Be good and write home often, alright?"
"I will," Harry promised.
"C'mere," Merlin said, tugging Harry away and into a hug that momentarily displaced a couple of his ribs. "Be safe, alright? And keep exploring the castle, it has so many more secrets to share. I love you until the end of time, rí beag."
"I love you too, athair," Harry responded before finally stepping away and heading back toward the compartment where Neville was saving him a seat.
He knew how much he'd lucked out with this family, but it certainly didn't hurt to be reminded. "Love you all!" he called out the open train window as smoke started to billow from the engine. He didn't allow himself the time to be embarrassed, simply grinning in response at the soppy smiles his guardians sent him as the train began to roll out of the station.
He'd loved being home, he'd loved the time he spent with his family, but he was rather excited to be returning to Hogwarts. Adventure awaited, after all.