Sunday, 1 September 1991
George Weasley was having a strange morning.
Thirteen years of being one half of the 'Terror Twins' had given him rather good instincts. Usually they were put to work escaping being caught or knowing when to draw the line between pranking and bullying. But today they were telling him that something important was about to happen.
His mother had been flitting about, muttering about stupid Headmasters, losing children, and idiotic Muggles which was really rather odd seeing as she tended to respect Dumbledore, all her children still living at home were accounted for, and she'd never once spoken poorly of Muggles.
He couldn't even begin to parse out what she was referencing.
"Mum," he found himself calling out, apparently throwing all caution to the wind. After thirty seconds of no response, he repeated himself, "mum!"
"Yes, dear?" Molly said, snapping out of her odd trance.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, love, everything's alright," she said, with that warm smile that instantly made George believe her. Nothing could be wrong when his mum was looking at him with that amount of love and care. She sighed slightly, thoughts almost visibly spinning through her head before she nodded once, "it's just that Dumbledore has asked us to arrive early from the Muggle side to keep an eye out for someone and the whole situation is rather frustrating."
"Why's that?" George asked, feeling a strange sense of pride that his mum was confiding in him, like she believed he was mature enough to help.
"The person we're meant to look out for is Harry Potter but the Headmaster apparently hasn't actually seen the boy since 1981 and they had to send over 100 letters to his address and then ended up having to send Hagrid personally when they got no response. All I have to go off of is that he looked like James with Lily's eyes when he was one and apparently the man doesn't understand how much children change even from year to year, let alone over an entire decade. All this to say, I'd like to get to the station early and even if we don't find a tiny James Potter clone we can at least help out any Muggleborns who seem lost."
"I can check on the train as well," George suggested, deciding immediately that this was now officially his problem. He didn't want his mum to worry and he was more than happy to help out, even if the situation was rather ridiculously convoluted. "I'll do it quietly, I doubt he'd want every student and their parents attention on him if someone announced Harry Potter was on the platform."
"Smart boy," Molly complimented, tone almost a coo as she patted his cheek. "I'm very proud of how thoughtful you are. You're a wonderful young man, George."
"How do you know I'm not Fred?" he teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Your freckles are darker and your eyes are more hazel, Georgie," she said, lightly poking his nose with that same warm smile on her face. "And you're much more level-headed than your brother, he'd have never thought to ask around quietly."
* * *
"Harrison," Arcturus said, getting his grandson's attention as they moved toward the Engine. "Remember to unshrink your trunk and put your bag inside it before you reach Hogsmeade, the elves will put it in your new dorm for you and it's less likely to get lost in the shuffle than your satchel."
"Yes, grandfather," Harry said dutifully, Arcturus could tell he was rolling his eyes even if he was faced the other direction.
"Don't roll your eyes at me, young man."
"It wasn't at you," Harry teased, very maturely sticking out his tongue as he looked over his shoulder.
"You're a little shit, you know that right?" Sirius laughed, ruffling Harry's hair.
"Got it from you, Archie."
"What'd we say about calling me Archie?"
"Don't?"
"Right in one, pup."
"I like how you think that's going to make me stop."
"A guy can dream."
Arcturus watched his grandson and great-grandson's verbal sparring with a wide smile on his face and a content warmth spreading through his chest. He was nearly certain that if he'd allowed himself to rot alone in Black Manor he'd be dead by now; instead, he had a new lease on life. These boys were his legacy but, more importantly, they were his entire heart.
Sirius had always been a welcome reprieve from the harshness of the House of Black. Even as a small child he'd been unwilling to bow to the demands of his parents. He'd always been his own person; something that requires more strength than Arcturus could fathom. And Harry was his sun, the warmth that kept the chill from his bones. His smile could melt ice. His laugh echoing against the walls of Camelot was Arcturus' favourite sound. This little boy had been chosen by Fate thrice over and bore the weight with such incredible grace; the vanquisher of the Dark Lord, Death's Chosen, the Future King of Camelot, yet still simply a child. A child Arcturus had once witnessed attempting to teach a heard of Hippogriffs a choreographed dance.
"Alright cariad," Remus said softly, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders and leading him away from Sirius and toward the Express. "Let's find a compartment."
"Draco," Harry called over his shoulder. "Would you like to sit together or are you waiting on friends?"
"I'm waiting on friends but you're welcome to sit with us," Draco said, a genuine smile on his face. "I'm so glad I finally have a cousin to introduce, it seemed like I was the only one in our year group who had no family our age."
"Happy to be of service," Harry said with a bright laugh.
* * *
"Ronald," Molly called when she saw her youngest son start to descend the stairs. "I need to speak to you about something."
"What is it?" Ron asked and George found himself wondering the same thing.
"Harry Potter is going to be in your class and I know your father and I have mentioned that we were friendly with his family and that you're looking forward to meeting him but I need you to keep your head about you."
"I'll work on having a filter," Ron promised, holding his hands up in surrender and George had to stifle a laugh.
"That's not all," their mum said, looking like she was biting back a laugh as well. "I distinctly remember Sirius Black naming Harry his Heir and I don't foresee Arcturus Black leaving the last Heir to his House in the Muggle world with no contact, no matter what Dumbledore believes has been happening. I'm telling you this because it's entirely possible that Harry is friends with the Malfoy Heir and I ask you to please try and judge the boy on his own instead of who his father is," she explained carefully.
"You are very lucky that your father is seen as a kind man and that he is kind to you, you are lucky to have him to look up to," she continued. "But not everyone is that lucky. It's also important to remember that the way people seem in public isn't always how they are in private. It's entirely possible that Lucius Malfoy is a caring father despite everything you've heard about the man. Also, Narcissa Malfoy is a kind woman for all she appears to be severe. All I ask is that you hold off on forming opinions."
George watched in poorly concealed surprise as his little brother paused and actually thought through their mum's words. Ron was young and hot-headed, quick to anger and quick to judge. The fact that he hadn't immediately spit on the idea of being anything but a prat toward Malfoy was a minor miracle.
"Alright," Ron said slowly. "I'll keep my head and I'll do my best to be kind but if he's a git I reserve the right to be a git back."
"That seems fair," Molly said with a serious nod though George could see the glint in her eye and could spot the fact she was biting the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling from across the room.
* * *
Harry set his bag down on the bench in a compartment toward the centre of one of the cars before following Sirius and Remus back off the train and leaving Narcissa and Draco behind to say their goodbyes.
The platform was starting to fill up as it got closer to half past and he'd just realized that his sweater had his last name in rather glaring golden letters across the back. Maybe not his most well thought out choice if he wanted to stay under the radar, but he wanted this piece of his dad close to him as he embarked on this journey and he thought it was an alright trade off; the lingering scent of James, preserved with a series of complicated charms that went right over Harry's head when Merlin had attempted to explain them, for his anonymity.
"C'mere," Merlin said softly, holding out his arms and allowing Harry to burrow against his chest. "I am so proud of you, mo mhac. You are going to do incredible things and I can't wait to hear all about them. Don't forget to write," he pulled back slightly, cupping Harry's cheeks and pressing their foreheads together, something he hadn't done since Harry was little. The action brought an inexplicable comfort, he could feel Merlin's magic washing over him, smelling of ocean breeze and open fields, crackling with power like sparks off a bonfire. "Bí cúramach le haon chomharthaí Báis an Samhain seo," he whispered, switching to Gaelic as people started pressing closer to them knowing very few people actually used the language anymore. Be careful of any signs of Death this Samhain, he'd said, "is féidir go nglaofaidh Cúirt Neamhsheile ort, ach is dócha nach mbeidh sé sin go dtí an Nollaig. Tabhair aird agus glaoigh orm má bhíonn gá agat leis riamh." It is possible the Unseelie Court will call on you, but it probably won't be until Yule. Just pay attention and call for me if you ever have need.
"Ceart go leor, déanfaidh mé," Harry said just as softly, Okay, I will.
"Is breá liom tú, a rí beag," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Harry's brow, I love you, Little King.
"Is breá liom tú freisin, a athair."
"My turn," Remus said as Harry stepped back. "Rydw i mor falch ohonot ti, cariad," he said, just as softly as Merlin, his voice teeming with love. Harry's head spun slightly as he adjusted to the new language, knowing from the tilt of Sirius' smirk he was going to be hearing a third shortly. I am so proud of you, love, Remus had said. "I am proud of you, James and Lily would be proud of you. You are everything we ever dreamed you'd be. Write home and have so much fun, cub. Rwy'n dy garu di i'r lleuad ac yn ôl," I love you to the moon and back.
"Rwyf wrth fy modd i chi hefyd, Dad," I love you too.
"Now me!" Sirius said, a bright smile on his face even as tears started pooling in his eyes. "Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime, mon chéri. Tu es ce qu'il y a de meilleur en nous tous, mon petit soleil," I love you, I love you, I love you, my darling boy. You are the best parts of all of us, my little sun. "Play pranks but don't get on McGonagall's bad side and don't hurt anyone. Explore the castle and learn everything you can. I am so proud of you, pup. Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime aussi, Papa," Harry whispered, nose pressed against his godfather's neck as he soaked up his comforting warmth. "Tellement."
"Shall I use Latin?" Arcturus teased as he pulled Harry into a crushing hug. "I'm so, so proud of you, mon soleil. I know everyone's already said it but don't forget to write, okay? We want to know everything and if you ever need us, don't be afraid to ask. You are truly the best parts of us, mon cœur. Be kind, be smart, be a Black."
"Yes, grandfather," Harry said, squeezing him back just as hard. He didn't want to let go knowing that as soon as he did he'd have to step away and climb back onto the train. The train that would carry him away from his family, away from everything he'd ever known. He was excited, to be sure, but he was also more scared than he could ever remember being. "Je t'aime."
"Je t'aime, mon soleil," Arcturus whispered, resting his cheek against Harry's curls and thanking the gods above that this child was in his life.
* * *
George ducked through the barrier first to see if he could spot someone who might be Harry Potter to put his mother at ease. Her muttering about Dumbledore and his poorly thought out plans had increased in the time it had taken them to gather everyone and get out of the house. He paused as he got closer to the train, his eye catching on a boy with golden brown hair surrounded by four men looking at him like he was the centre of their world. When he looked a little closer he noticed the back of the boy's sweater said 'J. Potter' and realized his mother's worries were unfounded … and that Dumbledore apparently didn't have one single goddamn clue what was going on with Harry Potter.
He headed back toward the barrier just as Fred came through, "did you find him?" his brother asked, uncharacteristically quiet.
"Yeah," George confirmed, nodding toward the small group as Harry moved toward the last man in the row. "That's him."
"Really?"
"It's either him or some random child stole James Potter's quidditch hoodie and is hanging out with two men who are almost certainly members of the Black family."
"I feel like the first theory holds more weight."
"Really?" George said, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Crazy, right?"
"Whatever," he laughed, pushing his twin toward the Express. "Find us a compartment and I'll go tell mum he's alive and seemingly wasn't actually abandoned in Muggle suburbia for a decade."
* * *
Harry finally pried himself away from his grandfather and took half a step back before deciding he didn't care if he looked like a little kid and dove straight back toward Sirius and Remus, knowing they'd catch him. He darted his arms out and grabbed onto Merlin and Arcturus, yanking them into a tangle of a group hug as he let his magic reach out and latch onto theirs, taking in as much of the feeling of home as he could before he had to leave it for four entire months.
"It's gonna be okay, pup," Sirius said, tangling his fingers in Harry's curls and holding him as close as he could. "We'll miss you too."
"I know," Harry whispered, knowing his voice was breaking and not quite finding it in himself to care.
"Harrison," Merlin said, pulling Harry's attention as he looked up at his guardian, the man he'd come to see as his father, with red-rimmed eyes and tears threatening to spill. "How about I give you a task? Something you can do when you're missing home?"
"Alright," Harry said quietly.
"Somewhere in the castle there are five hidden studies. You'll only be able to access three of them. Mine, Godric's, and Salazar's. Who knows what's been left in them so it'll certainly be an adventure for you, both to find them and to discover what's inside. Just promise me you won't try any spells you find without talking to me first, alright?"
"Alright," Harry echoed, mood bolstered by the promise of adventure before he thought the statement back over and cocked his head in confusion, "how will I be able to enter Salazar's?"
"We're from the same paternal line so his office recognized my magic which you now carry," he said, pointing toward Harry's rings, "also his password was in Parsel, which you can speak."
Harry nodded as he took a deep breath and put on a smile that he hoped was convincing, "see you at Yule?"
"See you at Yule, cub," Remus echoed, ruffling Harry's hair before gently shoving him toward the train.
"Go join your cousin and if his friends are all prats go make different friends," Sirius said, leaning into Remus' side as Harry reached the door.
Harry let out a laugh and took one last long look at his guardians before climbing the stairs and walking back toward the compartment.
* * *
Ron was nervous. His older brother had just come back through the barrier to let their mum know that Harry was safely on the Platform and appeared to have four guardians, none of whom seemed to be his Muggle relatives. He watched his mum breathe out a sigh of relief before she ushered them toward the barrier.
He was really looking forward to making friends after spending most of his life at the Burrow or visiting the few families who lived nearby and after everything his parents had said about Lily and James Potter, he thought Harry was just the sort of person he'd like to be friends with. If he were at all like his parents he'd be smart and kind and a big fan of quidditch, all pluses in Ron's book. Also, no one had seen him in a decade so it was unlikely that he'd have many friends in the wizarding world and Ron didn't want him to think he was alone or unwelcome.
He followed his family onto the platform where he paused to hug his mum and Ginny goodbye before following George toward the train, gratefully accepting his help with lugging his trunk up the steps.
"You should look for him," George suggested softly. "Introduce yourself. You're a good kid, Ronnie. Even though we like to make fun of you."
"Thanks, George," Ron said, looking up at his big brother in what he knew was adoration. The twins always made sure Ron felt seen, not willing to let him believe he was just the sixth son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, but that he was a person in his own right. They encouraged him to focus on things he actually enjoyed instead of trying to fit in with what the others had done. He wanted to be just like them; not in the sense that he wanted to do everything they do, but that he wanted to be that unfailingly kind. He knew he needed to work on his temper and jealousy and he was committed to growing up so he could be for others what the twins had been for him.
"Of course," George said with a bright smile, ruffling Ron's hair before he pointed down the aisle, "I think he went that way. Just be yourself, no need to be nervous."
Ron took a deep breath and looked at his brother's reassuring smile one last time as the train made its way out of the station before setting off down the hall in search of who he hoped would be his first friend.
* * *
Draco was ecstatic.
His new cousin was incredible, even if he insisted he'd be a Gryffindor rather than admitting Slytherin was objectively the better house.
He made Draco feel like he could drop the mask his father insisted he keep up and his smile made Draco feel oddly at home.
He'd introduced Harry to Gregory Goyle and Theodore Nott, two boys he'd grown up with as their fathers had been 'colleagues.' Though they were only 11, they'd had hushed conversations about how little they wanted to follow in their father's footsteps and befriending the Boy-Who-Lived seemed like a great first step. The thing was, though, Harry was so much more than that title. So much more than any of his many titles if the rings were anything to go by. He was funny and kind, he wasn't afraid to show emotion and wasn't afraid to ask questions or admit there was something he didn't know.
Just as Theo was about to ask another question about the runic configuration Harry was babbling about, something that was so far beyond Draco's knowledge that he wasn't even sure the pair were speaking English anymore, the compartment door slid open revealing a timid looking boy.
"Hello," he said softly, "would you lot mind if I sit here? My brothers said it'd be good to make friends in my year and you look my age."
"First year?" Harry asked, that kind smile on his face. The one that'd disarmed Draco immediately when they'd met in Diagon.
"Yeah," the boy confirmed, voice still quiet but slightly more confident now that he'd been acknowledged. "I'm Ronald Weasley, by the way, though everyone calls me Ron."
"Harrison Potter-Black," Harry said, standing up and holding out his hand for Weasley to shake, "call me Harry."
"Nice to meet you, Harry," Ron said, a genuine smile on his face and no sign of hero worship. Draco had to give him props. He'd been far less composed when Harry had revealed his name in the robe shop.
"Draco Malfoy," he said, standing up and mirroring his cousin, trying for warmth and hoping it was coming across well. He'd heard his father rant about the Weasley family but all of his complaints seemed like compliments if you put them in even a slightly different light. They were poor because they had so many mouths to feed; Draco would love to have siblings, even if it meant fewer things for himself. It got lonely growing up alone in a massive manor. Arthur Weasley was too kind and too obsessed with Muggles. So what? Kindness, if you asked Draco, was an undervalued trait and he really didn't care what people were interested in so long as their interest wasn't in harming others. "It's nice to meet you."
"You as well," Ron said, a hint of surprise in his eyes before he covered it up with a smile and shook Draco's offered hand.
"And these two are Theodore Nott and Gregory Goyle, though we usually call them Theo and Greg."
"Unless Theo's reading a book and you really need to get his attention," Greg said, smiling up at Ron and pointing to the empty seat across from him, "join us."
"Did you say you had older brothers?" Theo asked, looking at Ron in interest, eyes sparkling as Ron nodded. "Have they told you anything useful? I've read Hogwarts: A History and tried to ask my father but the book seems to have some holes and all my father will say is that Slytherin is the best house which is more a matter of opinion."
"Let's see," Ron hummed as he settled back into his seat, looking like he was truly thinking through everything his older brother's had told him (which had to be quite a lot because if Draco remembered correctly, there were five of them) so he could give Theo a good answer. "McGonagall is very strict but happy to help students who are having trouble, you just need to ask. She gets busy as a Head of House and Deputy Headmistress so sometimes it's hard for her to notice little things without someone pointing it out. Snape is just as strict and tends to favour Slytherin but if you're respectful and work hard he won't give you too hard a time. Flitwick is very kind but also excitable so don't ask open ended questions if you don't want an hour long tangent…"
Draco smiled softly as the train rolled out of London. He knew his father wouldn't approve of the company he was keeping but, for the first time in his life, he couldn't find it in himself to care.