"I would like to say I am proud to stand before you today, but that
would be a lie. I stand here and find myself disappointed and deeply
saddened by the Wizarding World's capacity for and their reaction to
fear."
The crowd that was piled into the streets of Diagon Alley shifted
uneasily, they had bargained for a rousing speech, not a lecture.
"We all have lost someone, we all have seen another grieve, and we
have all been hurt. Our personal lives have been intruded by the
unwelcome shadows of sorrow and the disquiet of uncertain futures,"
Harry said, his voice ringing clear over the crowd.
"I understand the need to hide, the need to push it all aside and
move forward. I also understand the anger at the unjustness of it all,
both at the world that allowed such horrors to occur and the burning
desire to rage against anyone who does not appear to suffer, to
know pain as you have come to know pain.
"I understand.
"As I know what it is to feel lost and beaten, but I tell you this; it is
that very pain, fear, and need to surpass all others that gave us a
dark lord in the first place.
"Our government is far from perfect, many of our laws are outdated,
and there are those among us who have benefited from both
corruption and chaos. But those problems belong to us, they are
ours to change for the better. It is unfortunate that those changes
may take time -years even, to come to pass. But if we demand it, if
we elect good people, and treat one another with respect then
goodness will take root and our children and our children's children
will follow that example."
Harry took a breath, this experience was surreal, as if he were
outside his body, watching himself speak, he felt calm; he looked
confident.
"But if the example we set is blaming other magical beings and
creatures for the woes of the Wizarding World then Tom Riddle has
won. Every effort, every lost soul, every child who perished on the
grounds of Hogwarts; wasted.
"If we turn on one another and shy away from our own faults then I
have failed. And my mother truly should have stepped aside to let
the Dark Lord kill me all those years ago. If we let pain and fear lead
our futures then Voldemort's legacy will never fade, and he becomes
what he set out to become, immortal."
The crowd looked ill, angry, and depressed.
"I am sure some of you will say that there were those who were not
strictly human who fought with Tom Riddle. So let me take this
opportunity to remind you that there were many more who fought
against him, and there were those who waited out the battles
because of a world that had long neglected them, betrayed them,
and outright hunted them.
"As our recent genocide of the giants exemplifies."
Harry took a moment for the crowd to mull that over. The angriest
among them looked slightly guilty, others had tears in their eyes.
Harry watched them all with an impassive expression.
"Many among you have disparaged my absence in the public eye.
Everyone seems to want to know what I think, where I stand. I will
tell you now:
"I stand for life, for the rights and safety of all peoples not just those
who look and think like I do. I want change, I want this world to be
better than it is, safer than it has ever has been. I want a nation I can
be proud of.
"Such change will not happen overnight, it will take hard work and
many, many mistakes, but we will all be better for that struggle, for
setting a stable ground for others to build upon. I believe that such a
future is reliant on every magical being and magical creature finding
a peaceful way to coexist. Our greatest challenge is overcoming our
own fear, and I know that we are strong enough if we but try ."
He finished with, "Thank you for your time."
Harry let the silence stand before stepping down from the podium.
There was a beat more silence and the reporters started in, but they
were too late, Kingsley had taken the stage and Harry was already
gone.
The tides of his fame being what they were, were currently against
him, quite unsurprisingly.
Although, Harry noticed reading through each day's paper after his
speech, not one reporter said something directly offensive. No one
wanted to diminish the Hero of Wizarding World, least of all when
Albus Dumbledore's name was still in the crapper.
The other good thing that came of Harry's little talk was that
Kingsley's approval ratings had shot up. Harry had essentially taken
the heat off the Minister and even out of sight the name 'Harry Potter'
gave plenty of writers and professional gossips things to discuss or
wonder at.
Kingsley had in his marginal freedom from the press been able to
grind some of the most outlandish legislation to a complete halt. It
was truly a shame that of all the Ministers to be given restricted
powers it would be Kingsley. He was a great man in his own right.
Harry was also highly amused with how much press his fountain was
getting. Some were calling it a national landmark and the 'tourists'
trying to enter the ministry was causing some grumbles among the
staff.
He sighed and threw the paper aside. Teddy ran to it, shoved his
muzzle between the bars and pulled the newspaper out. He took
great delight and ripping the paper into shreds while wagging his tail.
Harry crossed his arms on his knees and watched the puppy play.
After Teddy was finished tearing up the newspaper he started
barking energetically, before sprinting in circles around Harry's cage
in the basement. Then Teddy would skid to stop, pant, bark at Harry,
and then run in the opposite direction.
Four hours of this and Teddy was no less cute. Harry was amazed at
the fact he hadn't dropped yet. Though, he supposed if he could
barely walk on two unstable legs without clinging to a wall or another
person and suddenly being able to run on four legs must have been
fun.
Teddy didn't look like a werewolf. He looked like a real wolf puppy.
The longer Harry sat in this cage, the moon fully risen in the
nighttime sky, he wondered if being a metamorphmagus and being a
natural born werewolf had allowed Teddy to be a natural animagus.
The only thing that stood against this theory that aside for the last
two full moons, Teddy had remained human. Maybe there were
shapeshifters in the world that were natural?
Harry was certainly going to research it.
He sighed and thought, once I get out of this damn cage.
Harry was pretty sure that if he was going to transform he would
have done so by now. But he stayed in Andromeda's transfigured
cage in the basement that had been made baby/puppy safe.
Andromeda was waiting upstairs (with his Holly wand) for Harry to
call out if something happened.
Nothing happened.
Well, aside from Teddy leaving a present in the corner and playing
some sort of hide and go seek with himself and his tail in the pile of
ripped up newspapers. Around three in the morning, Teddy fell
asleep in that same pile with all for legs stuck up in the air, leaning
against Harry's side pressed against the bars. His furry paws
twitched in the air and he growled in his sleep as if even in his
dreams he was still running.
Harry fell asleep an hour or so later, his hand through the bars, his
fingers pressed to the side of that small fuzzy face.
Andromeda broke at four thirty a.m. Harry hadn't called her down -
who screamed from transforming, but she needed to check on them
both, only her trust in Harry kept her from being down there, as well
as him making her swear not to come down unless there was real
cause.
'We don't need all three of us to have lycanthropy,' he had said. And
keeping Teddy confined to the basement seemed less like child
abuse than locking him in a cage.
When she got down stairs she was relieved to see them both human
and clothed. She vanished the mess in the corner and picked Teddy
up from the confetti newspaper.
Harry didn't wake, though he stirred slightly.
Teddy was back in his diaper and T-shirt that he had transformed in.
Their working theory that Teddy might be a natural born animagus
was seeming more likely, seeing as if he had been a true werewolf
his clothes would have been torn apart.
Harry being clothed indicated the same.
She was relieved, as she cradled Teddy against her chest and
shoulder that Harry wasn't a werewolf. It wasn't the worst thing in the
world, but the man had been through enough without the added
trouble.
She unlocked the cage with a flick of her wand. Harry didn't stir. He
must have been exhausted from the stress of the last month.
As she knelt beside him, she felt the slightest pang of regret that his
clothes were intact. She shook herself. Harry was an attractive
young man.
The key term being young.
Andromeda pulled a vile from her skirt pocket and uncorked. She
held it just under Harry's nose and some tension in him relaxed and
he slumped further against the bars.
The potion was designed to ease patients with restless sleep or who
were light sleepers. This wouldn't be the first time she had used this
potion in the last few months. Harry worked too hard and as grateful
as Andromeda was, she knew he needed more sleep than she did.
He took everyone's burdens on himself.
In some ways, Harry was the opposite of her Ted, who had lived
purely for the moment and had been light hearted in almost all that
he did. It was a remarkable skill set for a healer and had been
absolute freedom from the culture of her own family.
A part of her was glad that Ted died before Nymphadora, died before
his heart could know that pain.
Andromeda levitated Harry up the steps. She wanted to bring him to
bed, but her legs just wouldn't let her go that far. She rested him on
the sofa. Grabbing a throw blanket, she curled up beside him.
Pressing herself to his chest, Teddy snuggled safely between them.
Even in a deep sleep, Harry turned to them and wrapped his arms
securely around them both.
Andromeda's eyes fluttered shut and she fell asleep, fell into the
warmth and love that inexplicably surrounded her.
Harry woke at noon, his glasses askew on his face and two warm
bodies against his chest. Teddy was drooling, his head tilted back
mouth open, and although not looking particularly picturesque, he
was so adorable it was enough for Harry to almost voice his 'aww'
aloud.
Restraining himself, his emerald eyes focused on Andromeda.
His heart lurched.
Had anyone ever been this beautiful?
In slumber, the lines of sorrow and worry did not crease her face.
The sunlight made her skin glow, brought out the coppery almost
auburn undertones in her dark brown hair.
Harry couldn't stop himself from running his hand across her soft
curls. He had brushed this hair countless, seen her nude more than
once, but perhaps for the first time he saw her not as a grieving
widow, not as Teddy's grandmother, not as the mother who had lost
Nymphadora, but rather he saw her as an individual, as being a
desirable woman in her own right.
Harry needed to get up, needed not to have her soft form entwined
around him. A situation that was made a bit more awkward with
Teddy still asleep on him. He took deep breaths and berated himself.
He was a child compared to her. Hell, Nymphadora had been seven
years older than him. His current thoughts weren't only
inappropriate, they were delusional. The most Harry and Andromeda
would ever be was family.
He couldn't expect or ask for more.
What he had, was already more than enough.
Andromeda and Teddy stayed asleep for another two hours, and
Harry got control of his hormones.
It was their turn to cook dinner for the Malfoys in what had become
their new traditional Saturday night dinner.
It was remarkable that there were no casualties yet. This was more
than likely due to Teddy who provided endless entertainment, both in
his topics of conversation (more often than not long streams on
nonsensical sentences) and his metemprphablities that had even
Draco -who had been determined to hate his cousin, holding up
strips of colors trying to get Teddy to play chameleon.
Andromeda and Harry, unashamedly made them all squeeze
together at their small dining room table.
On the Malfoys' second visit to the Tonks House, Lucius had gotten
fed up most literally rubbing elbows and he had reached for his wand
saying he could easily enlarge the table, only to be immediately shut
down by Andromeda who had said in no uncertain terms, 'If any of
you pull a wand in my house, I will snap all of them.'
Harry had glared at Lucius, giving an extra layer of support to
Andromeda threat.
Neither Lucius nor Draco were under delusions that they could take
Harry in a fight. And while Harry might not attack Narcissa due to his
growing respect for the Malfoy Matron, Andromeda had no such
qualms.
Harry hadn't seen either witch in a true duel but there seemed to be
an understanding between them that Andromeda was in fact, top
witch.
Dinners were tense, uncomfortable, awkward bordering on deadly,
but the men kept their mouths shut because the importance of
Narcissa and Andromeda being together was real. They were family
and by extension so were Lucius, Draco, and Harry, and for the love
they had for the two sisters they 'tolerated' each other.
That night, Narcissa cornered Harry after dinner while he was doing
the dishes.
Andromeda was holding Teddy in the living room as Lucius regaled
her about some family gossip at least a decade out of date. Draco
conspicuously trying not to appear like Teddy had him wrapped
around his little fingers. He failed miserably when Teddy 'forced' him
to clap a nursery rhyme with him.
"So," Narcissa began.
Harry prepared himself for some bland small talk. He respected high
society, but he usually found himself bored.
"How's my sister between the sheets?"
The plate slipped through Harry's fingers, clanking loudly against a
pot. He could feel his cheeks burning, he couldn't deny to himself
that he had been fantasizing about that very image for well over a
week now, but that didn't meanHe coughed, "We aren-"
"Why not?" Narcissa asked, crossing her arms and leaning against
the counter, a smirk forming on her lips as she watched Harry grow
more flustered.
"We aren't that," he repeated.
"Why?" she pressed.
"Because-" Harry whispered. He looked over his shoulder to see if
Andromeda had heard but she absorbed with whatever Lucius was
saying. Harry turned back to Narcissa, "Because I'm young enough
to be her son."
Narcissa's cold eyes shown unnervingly like Dumbledore's, "So
what? Men have slept with women half their age throughout history.
Why is the reverse so unthinkable?"
Harry shook his head and focused back on the dishes. "That isn't
us."
"She turned you down?"
"I never asked," Harry hissed at her.
"She sees you, Harry, and you're not the only one with needs,"
Narcissa said in a low tone, so that even if the others in the living
room had been paying attention they couldn't have heard.
Harry glared at her, "How is this any of your business?"
Narcissa tilted her head to the side, "You are a remarkable man,
Harry Potter."
Harry rolled his eyes, "So they say."
"Even with my son's lycanthropy, you are older than Draco."
Harry frowned and scrubbed harder at the already clean pot in his
hands. "We are the same damned age, I think he is few months
older than me, actually."
"Age, my dear, is not always measured by the turning of a clock's
gears."
"Or the planet, apparently," Harry snarked.
Narcissa's expression went serious, "You make her happy."
Harry started on the silverware, "That's what family is supposed to
do."
"She was happy with Ted, but she buried the worst of herself. With
you, well I think you've only seen the worst of her and yet here you
are, the caretaker to her little life," she said in the same low voice.
"I will never be Ted, I will never be what he was in her life."
"No," she agreed. "I think you have become something infinitely
more essential."
Harry's shoulders hunched, and he gave Narcissa the full weight of
his emerald gaze, "I won't do that."
"You won't take that last step to make yourselves truly happy?"
Harry's eyes darkened, "You don't know if she even sees me like
that. And even if she did, I wouldn't- couldn't do that to her. Your
sister is hurting, is hurt in a way that is incomprehensible. I will not
be the band aid to that hurt."
"And how do you know you wouldn't be the very thing that heals
her?"
Harry turned off the tap and dried his hands on a towel. He turned
fully to Narcissa. "Because some wounds don't heal. You just grow
strong enough to live with them."
Narcissa stayed where she was and watched him retreat into the
living room. She knew he was fooling himself, that they both were.
And yet -her heart ached, there was some truth to what Harry had
said.
Narcissa didn't want to believe that the only sister she had left was
beyond recovery