Classes resumed on Tuesday, but the teachers' hearts weren't really in it. Flitwick spent the whole of the double period talking to them about the charms involved in various wizarding sweets — while letting them sample said sweets, naturally. Then, because McGonagall was still gone from the castle, their double Transfiguration was a free period. It was a glorious day outside, so Harry was happy to accompany Neville out towards the edge of the forest so the boy could look at some plant that had recently bloomed. Harry wandered his way over to Hagrid's hut; he'd hardly seen his half-giant friend all school year, he thought guiltily.
"Good to have you back, Hagrid," he said as they sat on the front step of Hagrid's hut in the sunshine, and Hagrid grinned.
"Aye, good to be back. I hear you got into quite the adventure while I was away!" Harry shrugged, holding out his arms in a 'these things happen' sort of gesture, and Hagrid laughed. "Least you came out the end alright."
"I always do."
"An' everyone knows you been tellin' the truth, now," Hagrid added supportively. "You an' Professor Dumbledore." The bearded man's face grew concerned. "'E's worried about you, y'know."
"I know. But he doesn't need to be." Harry's stomach squirmed; one of these days, he was going to have to ask Hagrid to make a big decision about their friendship, and he wasn't sure which way it would turn out. "Hagrid… we're friends, right? And you trust me?"
"O' course!" Hagrid replied immediately.
"Good. Then… when it comes to Professor Dumbledore, and the way things go between me and him… just remember that, yeah?"
Hagrid frowned at him. "What d'you mean?"
"Nothing, just… I really hope we keep being friends, Hagrid. Even as I get older and things change."
A large hand came down heavy on his back. "Yer not gettin' rid 'o me any time soon, 'Arry, don't you worry!" Hagrid's grin turned a little sad. "Even though I know yer gonna tell me yer not takin' my class for NEWTs."
Harry winced; he hadn't even thought about how to bring that up, yet. "Hagrid, I—"
"Nah, nah, it's fine. S'not for everyone," Hagrid assured. "I reckon you've got classes a bit more important than mine to take."
"You've been a great teacher, Hagrid," Harry said earnestly. "And it's a fun subject." It just wasn't the career path for Harry. "I'll still come visit, when I can."
"That's alright, then," Hagrid declared, the matter settled. "We were friends before I started teaching yeh, and we'll be friends long after, I 'ope."
Harry hoped desperately that was true.
.-.
He stayed with Hagrid for a little while longer, remaining evasive about what he meant about Dumbledore — the same way Hagrid remained evasive regarding all the injuries he'd been getting all year, just insisting he 'had it handled'. As lunch drew closer, Harry decided to head back towards the castle. Neville seemed to have disappeared, either back to the castle or off to the greenhouses, so Harry was alone on his way back up.
In the entrance hall, he froze; Draco, Crabbe and Goyle had just emerged from a door to the side, coming up from their common room. They stopped at the sight of him. Harry's heart clenched.
He hadn't had the chance to spend time with Draco since he'd got back from the Ministry; both of them were under far too much scrutiny to risk trying to meet up. There were only a few more days of term; they could wait. But it still hurt Harry to see his boyfriend drifting around the school like a ghost in the wake of his father's death.
It hurt not to know how much of that was just a performance.
Draco sneered at him, clearly gearing up to say something, and Harry prepared himself for a performance — and then the door opened behind him, and Draco's face went even paler.
"Everything alright, gentlemen?"
Harry wheeled around at the voice, face lighting up. "Professor McGonagall!"
The Gryffindor housemistress looked more frail than Harry was used to seeing her, leaning heavily on a walking stick, but her eyes were as sharp as ever.
When Harry glanced back, the three Slytherins were gone.
"Oh— let me help you with that, Professor," Harry insisted, stepping forward to reach for her bag. He waited for the nod of permission, then took it from her hand, along with her travelling cloak. "It's good to see you back."
"I hear there was quite the ruckus in my absence," she replied, and even though he hadn't been involved in the mutiny against Umbridge, Harry still blushed. "Walk with me, Potter."
He did as bid, keeping pace with her slow, limping walk. She refused assistance on the stairs, but Harry remained a step behind her, just in case. "I have been in touch with the rest of the staff while I was away, Mr Potter. And, of course, I read the Prophet."
Harry winced.
"My colleagues have told me quite a bit about you," McGonagall continued. "Particularly, the feedback they have gotten from those students who claim to have been under your tutelage all year."
"I… Umbridge wasn't wrong about the secret defence club," Harry admitted, and McGonagall's lips twitched.
"We all knew that from the start, Potter," she informed him dryly. "What we didn't know was quite how… comprehensive your curriculum appears to be."
"There are more useful spells in a fight than just curses and jinxes, Professor."
"Indeed. And the healing charms? The conjuration? Professor Flitwick tells me some of his students say you taught them some rather advanced concealment spells."
"I asked everyone what spells they wanted to learn," Harry dismissed, "so really, it was a group effort."
McGonagall's shrewd gaze made him want to squirm. "Indeed," she said flatly. "And the five students who accompanied you to the Ministry, and by all reports aided you in the capture of no less than fourteen Death Eaters?" Harry had not yet heard that official number, but it sounded about right, and it made him grin.
"They asked to learn how to fight. So we learned together." It sounded a lot better than admitting Remus and Sirius had been training him in secret. "I had a bit of help from some Order members. But it's easy enough to teach people how to manage a solid Stunner, Disarming charm and Incarcerous charm. Those are the important ones."
"I hear you also taught your friends to snap their opponent's wand." He couldn't tell if McGonagall sounded impressed or dismayed.
"Only in a serious fight," he insisted. "But if their wand is snapped, they can't get it back and hex you with it."
There was silence once more as McGonagall focused on making it up the last few stairs. Then she eyed him carefully. "Professor Dumbledore believes there to be outside influences at work on you."
Harry held in a snort; the only outside influence was Dumbledore himself, and Harry had shed those! "I have learnt over the last few years that Professor Dumbledore is not as omnipotent as he seems. Nor as trustworthy."
McGonagall's eyebrows jumped up her forehead, but Harry held her gaze patiently. He wanted so badly for her to be on his side, to be willing to see Dumbledore for the man he truly was. "I believe Albus likes to think himself infallible," she said eventually, "and that can often lead to less than ideal results."
It wasn't much, but it was enough. Harry's shoulders relaxed, ever so slightly, and he shot a quick smile at his housemistress.
"You know, Mr Potter," she said, coming to a stop outside her office, "from everything I've heard, you would make an excellent teacher," and then she smiled — not wide, but bigger than anything he'd seen from the reserved woman. "Once you're done taking the quidditch league by storm, of course."
Harry grinned at her. "I'll certainly think about it, Professor." He'd heard worse ideas.
"You do that." She accepted her bag and cloak back, opening her office door. "I look forward to seeing your OWL results, Potter."
"I hope they're worth the anticipation," he joked. To his surprise, McGonagall placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"I can guarantee, Mr Potter, that whatever is in those results will be something you should be proud of. Something your godfather and Professor Lupin will be proud of. Your parents certainly would be, were they here to see it." A quick squeeze. "I am proud, to have you as my student. Both for what you have done at the Ministry, and everything you have done for your fellow students during the course of this last year." She narrowed her eyes knowingly. "Don't think I don't know where those care spells for those wretched Blood Quill wounds began circulating."
Ducking his head to hide his blush, Harry had to swallow against the lump in his throat. "I— thank you, Professor. That means a lot to hear."
She pat his shoulder once more, then stepped into her office. "Oh, and do try and stay out of trouble for the rest of the week, Potter," she added wryly. "I may be back on my feet, but that is an extra stress I do not need."
Harry laughed, offering his most innocent smile. "I'll try my best, Professor."
Yes, there was definitely hope for Minerva McGonagall yet.
.-.-.
Harry still didn't have his own subscription to the Prophet, but he was thinking about getting one, and when Wednesday's headline stared him in the face across the breakfast table that morning, he almost spit out his tea.
'Not As Black As He Seems? Death Eater Captured At Ministry Is Confirmed Peter Pettigrew: Sirius Black Case To Be Re-Opened'
"Hey, can I borrow that?" Harry requested. Alicia shrugged, handing the paper over.
He read the article quickly — evidently one of the still-masked Death Eaters they had subdued during the battle in the DoM had been Pettigrew all along, and he was now in Ministry custody awaiting questioning by Veritaserum. They were asking members of the public to come forward if they had any information on the incarceration or whereabouts of Sirius Black.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest, and his gaze sought Susan out at the Hufflepuff table. Luckily, she was in her usual seat, and Harry hurried over to her. "Susan!"
"Harry," she greeted, scooting over to make room for him. "You've seen the paper?"
"Susan, I— you saw him, right? Fighting with us, at the Ministry?" he asked quietly, and she nodded. They both knew he wasn't talking about Pettigrew.
"He was on our side, for sure," she confirmed.
"Will you write to your aunt?" he begged. "Tell her I'm willing to testify to whatever jury I need to. And— and tell her to look into my parents' wills, if they had any." It always seemed suspicious to Harry that his parents wouldn't write something in their wills to clarify the Secret Keeper in case of their deaths.
"I will. But you can write to her yourself, if you'd like," Susan pointed out. "I know after what happened the other night, she wants to meet you properly." The red-haired girl grinned. "She told me to invite you over for dinner sometime this summer, if you're willing. Seems she wants to thank the boy who turned her niece into such a 'ruthless little warrior'."
"I'd be happy to," Harry agreed brightly. "I, uh, don't know what I'm doing this summer, though. I'll get back to you."
"Once your godfather is free, we'll invite you both over," Susan said, and there was so much confidence in her voice Harry couldn't help but hug her.
Sirius could be free.
.-.-.
At Grimmauld Place, Sirius Black was staring at the same newspaper headline, hands clenched tight around the paper, heartbeat a furious drum in his otherwise empty head.
"Sirius, what's the matter?" Charlie asked, yawning. He had stayed the night, and was over at the stove cooking omelettes. He hadn't seen the post arrive.
Sirius made a noise that was halfway between a yelp and a groan, and Charlie looked over. And then dropped the frying pan with a clatter. "Holy fuck." He hurried over, one warm hand on Sirius' shoulder as he leant over him to read the headline. Sirius still couldn't think, not really, but he focused on that hand, that grounding pressure, until finally he could breathe normally again.
"They got Pettigrew," he breathed, wide-eyed in astonishment. He craned his neck, meeting Charlie's gaze. "They've caught Pettigrew. They… they're looking into my trial."
"And Kingsley's on it, so you know he won't let the rat escape," Charlie added. His thumb began to stroke the curve of Sirius' neck, his dimples out in full force as he smiled brightly. "You're going to be free, sweetheart."
Sirius surged up, dropping the paper in order to get a hand in Charlie's fiery hair, his other bracing himself on the man's shoulder. Charlie kissed him furiously, both of them pouring their relief and delight wholeheartedly into the embrace.
They were so engrossed in each other that they didn't notice the fire in the grate flare green. But they did hear the scream.
Molly Weasley stood in front of the hearth, staring at the pair of them in utter shock. "You… but… Charlie." She snapped out of the daze, face rapidly turning red. "Sirius Black, what in Merlin's name do you think you're doing to my son? Charlie, get away from him," she urged in a high-pitched, alarmed voice.
"He wasn't doing anything I didn't want, Mum," Charlie insisted, making Molly's eyes bulge.
"But— he's so much older! And a criminal!"
"Wrongly convicted, as you well know," Sirius said, getting to his feet, glaring at the woman. Whether it was the news of his impending freedom or the surety of Charlie's hand on his shoulder, Sirius felt suddenly like he could do absolutely anything — including tell Molly Weasley where she could shove her judgement. "Charlie is a grown man, Molly. He doesn't need you making his decisions for him."
"He is my son!" Molly argued. "I won't have you manipulating him into some kind of relationship he thinks he wants! He's barely older than Harry!"
"He's eight years older than Harry, and how dare you accuse me of manipulating him!" Something in Sirius snapped, and an entire year's worth of anger came spilling out. "I don't care that you don't think I'm good enough for him — hell, I agree with you! — But you will not do him the disservice of thinking he isn't capable of making his own bloody choices about who he wants to be with! And more than that, you will not accuse me of forcing him into anything, in my own house! Or have you forgotten that, Molly?" he pressed, and over on the counter the plates began to rattle. "This is my house, where I have allowed you and your family to live for weeks, completely for free, eating food that I paid for, enjoying the safety of wards that I hold, and not once have I heard a single word of gratitude! All you've done is act like you own the place, talk down to me, belittle me in front of my godson and the Order and your own children, treat me like I'm some filthy criminal when we all know I never deserved to be in Azkaban! You've treated my house like it's some den of Dark magic and iniquity, too good for your precious babies, trying to throw out my family heirlooms without so much as asking if I might want to keep them! And now you come in here — entirely uninvited, might I add — and try and convince the man I love that he shouldn't be with me? Well I have had enough!" Abruptly, Molly turned chalk-white, and Sirius snarled at her. "I am barring you from the house wards, Molly. You're no longer welcome here."
"But— but the Order!"
"Not my problem," Sirius snapped. "You don't like it, take it up with Dumbledore." They could all bugger off, as far as he was concerned. "Now get out of my house!"
"Charlie. Charlie, please. Come with me. Can't you see this man is dangerous?" Molly turned imploring eyes on her son, but Charlie's hand remained firmly on Sirius' shoulder.
"No, Mum, he's not. I'm staying here."
Molly looked at him, tears in her eyes, but when he didn't move she huffed. "Fine." She turned to the fire, grabbed a handful of floo powder from the tin, and was gone.
Immediately, the anger drained from Sirius like someone had pulled the plug. He was breathing like he'd run a marathon, and leaned back against Charlie's broad chest. "I'm sorry," he said hoarsely, belatedly realising that may not have been the best way of handling things. "Charlie, I—"
But anything he might have said was swallowed by Charlie's tongue pressing furiously into his mouth, the redhead spinning Sirius around and pinning him to the table by his hips. "Watching you stand up for yourself was so fucking sexy," the redhead rasped, lips trailing down Sirius' stubbled jaw. "Merlin, sweetheart. Don't apologise. Mum's had that coming for months."
Sirius was lightheaded with relief and euphoria and a dozen other things, and he gripped the back of Charlie's t-shirt. "I need to write to Amelia Bones," he said dazedly. Charlie stroked his shoulder.
"Not yet. You're still shaking," he pointed out, and Sirius realised he was right. His body was trembling, he was going to fall apart. So many emotions bouncing around him, so many positive emotions he could hardly breathe from it all. The table digging into the back of his thighs was helping a little, but he needed more, he needed grounding.
"Upstairs," he gasped, and Charlie pulled back to look him over properly. Those beautiful sapphire eyes lit up with arousal. "I need you."
"Now that sounds like a much better plan," the dragon tamer drawled, the sound caressing Sirius' bones. "I'll take you upstairs, and fuck you into the mattress so hard you'll see stars. Then you can write whatever letters you want." He kissed Sirius hot and hard, and when he pulled back this time his face was softer, something else burning in his gaze. "And then we can talk about how you told my mum you love me."
Sirius' heart stuttered. He had said that, hadn't he?
But Charlie was smiling, and he was still there, so maybe it was okay.
.-.-.-.
The end of term arrived, not with a bang, but with a whimper. Or, more accurately, with an enormous sigh of relief.
Dumbledore's end-of-year speech had been as vague and useless as always, reminding people to trust in the power of love and always find the light in the darkness and other such platitudes. The house cup had been awarded to Ravenclaw for their grand total of sixty-seven points, which was still an impressive amount to have been gained in the week since The Umbridge Incident as it was now being referred to. Cornelius Fudge had officially been sacked, and the hunt was on for an interim Minister — it seemed no one wanted to risk a proper vote with the country so fraught. Harry quietly hoped Amelia Bones got the job.
But at last the students had packed, the seventh years had cried, and Harry was finally heading down to the train station at the end of another year at Hogwarts.
"Harry, my boy." The call sent a burst of annoyance through him. He'd managed to avoid Dumbledore successfully for the last week, needing more and more blatant methods of escape. He'd thought he was free.
Evidently not.
"Headmaster, I really must get to the station," Harry said, still walking through the Entrance Hall. Dumbledore moved closer towards him, frowning faintly.
"I only need a moment of your time," he insisted. Harry snorted — he doubted that.
"Sir, I don't want to miss the train. Can't it wait until next year?" By which point, the stage would be set and likely Dumbledore wouldn't want to talk to Harry at all.
"I suppose I can come and see you at your godfather's house," the headmaster remarked, and Harry forced a smile on his face to cover his laughing eyes. If Dumbledore thought he could find Harry at Grimmauld, he had another thing coming. "Very well, then. I shall see you soon, Harry."
"Goodbye, sir."
Harry jogged to catch up with Neville, who eyed him warily. "What did he want?" the blond asked, and Harry shrugged.
"The usual. He says he'll stop by Sirius' place for a chat in the summer." He rolled his eyes, and Neville snorted.
"Good luck to him on that."
They joined the crowd of students heading for the station, and soon the pair of them were tucked away in a compartment with Ginny, Luna, Daphne and Blaise. The two Slytherins had been adopted quite neatly into the group, thanks to their partners, even though Blaise's was no longer at school. Harry had been ferrying letters between them with Remus and Ceri since the twins had left, and their relationship seemed to be going strong.
"You should come visit this summer," Ginny said to the two Slytherins. "Luna only lives over the fields from me. And I'm sure George would come home if you were around," she added to Blaise, who smirked.
"Considering I plan to spend at least three weeks of summer at his flat, I don't need to come visit you to see my boyfriend," he said, "but I'll keep it in mind."
"Please, someone come visit," Ginny begged. "Otherwise it'll just be me and Ron."
Harry grimaced in sympathy, and he wasn't the only one.
"You can come stay with me," Neville offered, and then went bright pink. "I mean, Gran wants to meet you properly, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you wanted to come over for a week or two. Or more. Or less. Whatever, really."
Ginny laughed, pecking her babbling boyfriend on the cheek. "I'd love to," she assured. "Talk to your gran and let me know."
"I'm gonna be a bit all over the place, but you're always welcome at Sirius' place," Harry assured her. He hadn't said a thing about Charlie yet, even though Sirius told him Bill proposed to Fleur the day after the battle at the Ministry. Neither of those things were his news to share.
Harry looked out the window as the conversation turned to miscellaneous other summer plans, watching the green hills of the highlands roll by. "I'm gonna have a wander," he said, getting to his feet. "I'll be back in a bit."
They waved him off, unconcerned, and Harry stepped out into the train corridor. He glanced into compartments as he passed them, looking for familiar faces; he found one full of Gryffindor seventh years fresh from their graduation ceremony, and was dragged inside so Angelina and Alicia could hug him and make him promise to replace them with good chasers, but not too good, because they wanted him to miss them. Another compartment held a bunch of Hufflepuffs in his year, and while Megan Jones and Oliver Rivers eyed him coolly, Susan and the rest were happy to chat.
It was still a surprise to Harry, how many people he knew in the school — it was even more now, he realised, since he'd done the HA. Now he had all sorts of people waving at him, exchanging friendly words, wishing him a good summer. Loads of his friends promising to keep in touch.
He'd come a long way from the boy who only had Ron and Hermione.
Speaking of whom, he found them in a compartment with Dean and Seamus; Hermione reading a book while the three boys played exploding snap. Harry didn't stop to chat, but as he looked in the door Hermione caught his eye, giving him an unreadable look that made him vaguely uncomfortable.
He carried on quickly, and was relieved to find Cho with the Hufflepuff seventh year boys a few compartments down. All of them showed signs of crying, and Cho was holding the picture of Cedric that had been up in the Room of Requirement for so long.
"Don't be a stranger, eh, Potter?" Patrick said, reaching out to shake Harry's hand. "If you need us, we'll be there. Cho knows where to find us."
"I'll keep that in mind," Harry promised seriously. All of the boys were skilled duellists after their time in the HA, and Harry would be happy to fight with them any time. Cho hugged him, kissing his cheek. "Write me this summer, if you can?"
"I will, yeah." He wouldn't have any restrictions on his mail this time, and he was very much looking forward to that.
Harry carried on his way, stopping briefly to look in to a compartment full of Slytherins — namely Draco, Theo, Pansy, Millicent, and Cassius. Checking the corridor, Harry slipped in quickly, warding the door so no one could see through it.
"Oh, it's you," Pansy sighed, and Harry snorted.
"Nice to see you, too," he said dryly. He turned to Draco. "Where are Dumb and Dumber?"
"Bathroom," Draco explained. "So you've got a bit of time." He reached for Harry, unceremoniously pulling the Gryffindor into his lap and kissing him firmly.
"Draco, must you?" Millicent sighed. Harry felt Draco raise a hand, and was certain his boyfriend had just flipped her off.
Reluctantly, Harry pulled back. "I didn't actually come here for that," he said, though he certainly wasn't complaining. "Just wanted to check you're all okay going home." He knew Pansy's father was one of the Death Eaters arrested at the ministry, though unfortunately Theo's father was not. But all of them still had active Death Eaters in the family.
"We'll be fine, Potter," Pansy assured. "And if we're not, we know where to go." Harry had told all of them the floo address for Remus' cottage that he hardly ever used, just in case they needed a fast escape.
"Cassius?" Harry checked, still feeling uneasy about letting the now-graduated Slytherin go back to his uncle and brother.
"I'll stay as long as I can last," the dark-haired boy said. "I told my uncle I got a flat, so I shouldn't need to put up with them too much. I'll be able to be at Ollie's." He looked relieved at the prospect of seeing his boyfriend again.
"Good. But if they start talking about Marking…" Harry trailed off, and Cassius nodded sharply.
After the fiasco at the Ministry, Voldemort was likely to be looking to refill his ranks. Cassius might not be able to think up excuses for long enough.
"Theo, got your portkey?"
Theo nodded, patting his pocket. He would be heading to meet Charlie straight off the train, who would take him to the Pottery. He wouldn't be alone for too long. "Good." Harry looked to Draco, frowning. "And you're sure I can't convince you to come home with me?" He wanted Draco and his mother in Seren Du, where they would be safe.
"Mother is now the Lady of Malfoy Manor," Draco pointed out quietly, smirking. "Somehow I don't think she will be chased out of her own home quite so easily."
From what Harry knew, Narcissa was playing the dutiful mourning wife and Death Eater, and would continue to do so until her son was home. She was being remarkably evasive about what her plans were past that point.
"Just be careful," Harry fretted, pushing Draco's hair out of his eyes. Draco's gaze softened.
"We're Slytherins, remember? Not reckless Gryffindor fools. We will be just fine, and I'll see you soon."
Soon was too vague, in Harry's opinion. "You lot, close your eyes," he warned, then pressed his lips to Draco's, breathing in the scent of him, wanting to make the most of their kiss before they were separated for Merlin knew how long.
The kiss went on for a while, until eventually one of the others got fed up and drenched them with an Aguamenti. Harry spluttered, breaking away from Draco, and turned to glare at an unrepentant Pansy.
A quick spell had them dried off, and Harry gave Draco one last kiss before getting to his feet. "Fine, fine, I'm going," he mock-grumbled. "Stay in touch, all of you."
He Disillusioned himself, removed the ward from the door, and left the compartment, finally heading back to his own. He was satisfied, for now.
.-.-.
By the time the train was pulling into the platform, Harry was half asleep sprawled over the bench seat with his head in Ginny's lap and his legs in Neville's. He groaned as the train rocked to a halt, dragging himself into a sitting position. "Oh, I can't wait to finally be able to relax," he declared vehemently, getting several noises of agreement. Between Dumbledore, Umbridge, and everything else, Harry didn't feel like he'd truly relaxed since Christmas.
"I'll write soon," Daphne promised, leaning over to kiss both him and Neville on the cheek before tugging Luna's hand. "Come on, honey, I want to introduce you to my uncle."
Luna hugged them all, and then she and Daphne left. Harry helped Ginny get her trunk down from the rack, and the four of them shuffled their way off the train. Harry looked around the platform, eyes lingering on several Slytherins, all approaching family members who looked a little too panicked to be comfortable. All of them held portkeys — they just had to last until the morning. Mrs Weasley and the twins were easy to spot, the twins dressed in identical lurid purple dragonhide suits. Beside them were Remus and Tonks, the latter with bright Gryffindor-red-and-gold chin length hair.
George broke away from his family as soon as he spotted them, barrelling over and immediately sweeping Blaise into a kiss that wouldn't have been out of place in a muggle romance film. Ginny made an exaggerated noise of disgust.
"Caro mio, it warms my heart to see you have found a man so expressive." Immediately the two boys pulled apart, Blaise breaking out into a wide smile while George went a little paler.
"Mama," Blaise greeted, holding out a hand to an incredibly gorgeous woman who could only be his mother. Her skin was a few shades lighter but she had the same nose and mouth as Blaise, her green eyes almost as bright as Harry's. "This is George; I told you about him."
"It's nice to meet you Lady Zabini," George croaked, offering a somewhat clumsy bow. Blaise's mother laughed, the sound like a chorus of bells.
"He is charming, Blaise," she declared, patting George's hand. "You must join us in Italy for a while, if you can. My son tells me you are quite the young entrepreneur." Her smile was warm and welcoming. Nothing like Blaise's cold Slytherin facade. "Come, caro, say goodbye to your friends. You will see them soon, I'm sure."
Her gaze drifted briefly over to Harry, and she nodded ever so slightly, understanding passing between them. She would do whatever she could to protect Blaise, and Harry would do what he could to help her.
Blaise shook Harry and Neville's hands, kissed Ginny's cheek, then gave George a sweet kiss and murmured something in Italian, before heading off with his mother.
At last, Harry made it over to Remus and Tonks, laughing as Tonks hugged him so hard his feet left the ground. "Wotcher, Harry!" she greeted brightly, ruffling his hair.
"Hi, Tonks. You're obviously feeling better." He was glad to see it. Remus hugged him next, much more gently.
"Hello, cub. You ready?"
"One moment." Harry turned to the Weasleys, where Neville was being greeted a little frostily by Mrs Weasley. Harry had heard about her explosion over Sirius and Charlie, which had apparently been made worse by the news of Bill's engagement; it seemed she was less than impressed by all her children's choices in partner, now. Ginny just glared at her mum, pulling Neville into a kiss and promising to write soon. Then Neville looked to Harry, and the two boys shared a tight hug. "Let me know how your plans go," Neville urged, hazel eyes meeting green. "If I can help, I want to."
"I know." It was a little overwhelming, sometimes, the depth of Neville's loyalty to Harry, but it was something he would never take for granted.
With a little wave to the rest of the group, Neville disappeared to find his gran. Mrs Weasley turned to Harry, kissing both his cheeks with a slight frown still on her lips. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Harry, dear? There's plenty of room, these days."
Harry offered her a tight smile. "I'm good, thanks, Mrs Weasley."
Letting himself be bundled in a hug by Ginny and the twins all at once, Harry was laughing when he escaped, reaching out to Remus. Just in time, too; Ron and Hermione were on their way over.
"Okay, Moony," he declared, beaming. "Let's go home."