New Wardrobes and Dreams for the Future
Monday, 10 August 1998
As they made their way from Gringotts to Twilfit and Tattings, Harry spent some time getting to know Susan. He’d known her in passing and through the DA, but hadn’t had time to get to know her on a more personal level. Neville, having spent more time with the Hufflepuffs and having known Susan as a child, just followed along looking slightly amused at the pairs thinly veiled interrogation of the other.
“So, Lord Slytherin?” Susan began after the trio had been walking in silence for a minute.
“I swear, if you make some joke about the Heir of Slytherin rumors being accurate…”
“You’ll do what, Potter? Sic a basilisk on me?” Susan asked with a teasing grin.
“I would but, see, I killed the basilisk and I’m not exactly motivated to go searching for another one.”
“Wait, what do you mean you killed the basilisk? I thought Dumbledore took care of that whole situation?”
“You’re joking right?” Harry said.
“Why in Merlin’s name would I be joking?”
Turning to Neville with a truly affronted look, Harry asked “is that what people think? That Dumbledore always came to my rescue?”
“Yeah, you were his Golden Boy after all. Until we became friends in 3rd year that’s what I thought as well.”
“Wait,” Susan asked, as she abruptly came to a stop, “what do you mean?”
“The only time Dumbledore stepped in was in 5th year when Voldemort showed up at the Ministry, every other time I faced him, some version of him, or some other terror, I was either alone or with Ron and Hermione. Even when we first got to the Department of Mysteries in 5th year we were alone. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, Ginny, and I fought off a dozen or so Death Eaters for like an hour before any member of the Order showed up and it was another half hour before Dumbledore deigned to make an entrance. Every other time, he showed up after the fact and either forced me to recount the experience before taking me to Pomfrey or dragged my unconscious ass to Pomfrey and then made me recount the experience the second I regained consciousness.”
“Well, that certainly colors my opinion of our dearly deceased Albus.”
“Susan,” Neville started, “I’m not exaggerating when I tell you that Harry came to Dumbledore’s aid more times than Dumbledore came to Harry’s.”
“Wow,” Susan breathed out, “so what happened with the basilisk then? The story I heard was that you and Ron went and found the student who had been taken and then Dumbledore showed up and stopped the basilisk.”
Harry couldn’t help but laugh. And, if his laugh edged on manic, no one could really blame him.
“No, I didn’t see Dumbledore that night until after we were out of the Chamber when I told him I’d been bit by a fucking basilisk, and he actually asked me to please recount my night before he took me to see Pomfrey.”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said in a deadly whisper, “what do you mean ‘bit by a fucking basilisk’? How are you alive, Potter?”
“Oh, Susan, I’m not just the Boy Who Lived, I’m the Boy Who Refused to Fucking Die, didn’t you know?” Harry said with a slightly self-deprecating laugh.
“Harry, tell her the story, you’re going to give her an aneurysm if you keep fucking about.”
“Right, Nev. Sorry, Susan.” Harry said with a sheepish grin, “what really happened was that Hermione, a 12-year-old, figured out the mystery before Dumbledore or any of the other staff, even though a bunch of them had been there the first time the Chamber was opened. But then she got petrified. Luckily, she had a torn page of a book in her hand when she was petrified. Long story short, Ron and I found the page in her hand and caught on to what she’d figured out – that the Chamber’s monster was a basilisk – and then, before we could really do anything about that, Ginny was taken into the Chamber.”
“Ginny?” Susan gasped.
“Yeah, I’m not sure how well-protected the identity of the student that had been taken was, but I know some people know about it, just don’t go spreading it around to everyone, but it’s sort of necessary to understand why Ron and I skipped past any logical solution and jumped straight into dealing with it ourselves.”
“Yeah, I can see that, Merlin and Morgana I can’t even imagine how scared Ron must’ve been. So, what happened next?”
“Well, we saw the writing on the wall saying her body would lie in the Chamber forever and then heard the professors talking about it and some of them were treating it almost like a joke now that I look back on it, egging Lockhart on, saying that he should be able to take care of it since he’s such a proficient Defense Master.”
“You’re joking.”
“No, Bones, I am not.” Harry said with a sigh, “so we followed the fraud back to his office where we saw him packing up, ready to do a runner, so we forced him at wand point to where we’d figured out the entrance to the Chamber was, when we got in, he tried to obliviate us, saying that he’d tell everyone that seeing Ginny’s body was just too much for us and that he’d spin it as some tragedy where he still came out the hero, but he tried to do it with Ron’s old wand, which was broken, so the spell backfired. He’s now a permanent resident of St. Mungo’s, but that’s beside the point.”
“Wait, is that how he got all those stories for his books? He obliviated the wizards who’d actually done those things?”
“Yup,” Harry said, popping the ‘p’, “so anyways, the backlash from his spell caused a cave in, separating me from Ron and Lockhart, so I had to go on alone. I made my way into the Chamber, came face to face with a 16-year-old Tom Riddle, a.k.a. Lord Voldemort, the sodding bastard, who then let a 50-foot basilisk loose and when I begged the universe for help, Dumbledore’s phoenix came swooping in with the Sorting Hat, I was like alright what the hell and put the hat on because, you know, I was 12, and then I got conked on the head by a giant sword and thought, why not, let’s sword fight a giant serpent. Then, Fawkes, being the icon he is, pecked out the basilisk’s eyes so it couldn’t kill me with its stare and then I stabbed it through the head with the sword but while I was doing that, it got me with one of its fangs and as I was actually fucking dying I grabbed the fang out of my arm and stabbed the diary that Ginny had been carrying around that I knew, somehow, was tied to this spirit of Tom Riddle and then the diary started screaming bloody murder. I told Ginny to run and leave me but then Fawkes, again, the absolute icon, cried on my arm and, as I’m sure you know, Phoenix tears can heal just about anything. So, yay magic. Then Fawkes flew us all out of the Chamber. Dumbledore never once made an appearance.”
“Didn’t Fawkes also heal you after you’d come back from watching Voldemort’s resurrection in the graveyard?” Neville asked.
“Yes, he did, because he is, again, an absolute icon and, thankfully, takes offense to Dumbledore’s propensity to make me recount my confrontations with Voldemort before seeking medical attention.”
Just then, a melodic trill was heard through the Alley and with a flash, Fawkes appeared on Harry’s shoulder.
“Oh,” Harry said in a completely level voice, “hey, mate, did you hear me talking you up?”
As Fawkes nuzzled against Harry’s cheek, he heard a voice amidst the melody, I was Godric’s familiar, but I think I shall claim you, Heir of Salazar.
“What. The. Fuck.” Harry whispered.
“Did you just get claimed by a Phoenix?” Neville asked in a tone that told of how often he’d seen entirely inexplicable shit happen around Harry.
“Is this what it’s like being friends with you, Harry?” Susan asked, a bemused look on her face.
“It sure is, Susan. I’d say you get used to it but I’m not sure that’s an honest conclusion.” Neville said with a laugh.
“Can you understand me Fawkes?” Harry asked.
Yes, dear Harry, I can understand all human speech, but I can also understand you if you direct your thoughts to me.
“Huh, that’s cool.”
“Haz, you wanna translate Phoenix for us?” Neville said, still slightly chuckling.
“Fawkes says he can understand all human speech but can also understand me if I direct my thoughts to him because he’s claimed me. Oh, also, he was Godric Gryffindor’s familiar, so I think we’re gonna get some good stories out of him.”
“Are you telling me that Godric Gryffindor’s familiar just decided to bond with Lord Slytherin?” Neville asked.
“Hold on a second, Nev, let me try something.”
Fawkes, Harry imagined speaking to the bird, is this correct?
Yes, Fawkes fed back into Harry’s mind, perfectly done, Young Lord.
Fawkes, Harry began, that man right there is the current Lord Gryffindor but, more than that, he is my chosen brother. We are bound by Fate and are oath sworn godbrothers. Somehow, by some Gift of Magic, we share a classic magical twin bond. Would you be able to bond with him as well?
You’d share your familiar? Fawkes said in a shocked tone, that is an incredible act of trust.
As I said, Fawkes, he is my brother. I trust him as much, if not more, than I trust myself.
With that, Fawkes flew from Harry’s shoulder to Neville’s, nuzzled his cheek, released a melodic trill, and bonded with the new Lord Gryffindor.
“Alright, what the fuck?” Susan choked out.
“I think this is just another day in the world of being friends with the Chosen One,” Neville said by way of explanation, sporting a cheeky grin.
“Oh Merlin, they dress the same, they share a familiar, and now they’ve got the same shit-eating grin. What have I signed up for?” Susan said, sounding truly exasperated.
With a laugh, Harry just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started leading the group down the Alley. “Oh, Susan, you don’t even know the half of it.”
* * *
While Neville and Harry had been in their meeting at Gringotts, the rest of their friends had been finishing up some errands in the Alley. Quills and parchment had been bought, new cauldrons had been procured, replacement trunks had been ordered, and Draco and Ron had been dragged by the ears out of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Now, the group was waiting outside Twilfit and Tattings to experience Harry Potter’s worst nightmare. Daphne, Pansy, Padma, and Parvati had spent the last half hour making a comprehensive list of everything Harry would need to present as a proper Lord.
Hermione had been making her own list of essentials, knowing that Harry had never truly owned his own clothing but not willing to share that information with the larger group. She’d decided that she’d wait until they’d completed his wizarding wardrobe before pulling him aside and asking him to come into Muggle London with her to get everything else. She knew he’d complain but also knew, underneath the front he’d put on, that he’d appreciate her thinking of him and, more than that, would appreciate her not bringing it up in front of everyone else. She also knew that, despite all his complaining, he’d be truly excited to have clothes of his own, even though he’d have to be pushed into spending money on himself, despite having more money than God. She was just thinking about how it might be easier to get him to agree to it if she also suggested that they stop by a couple of stores for Teddy as well when she spotted Neville and Harry guiding Susan toward them with … was that Fawkes perched on Harry’s shoulder? What the fuck had happened at Gringotts?
“Mate,” Ron started, “why is Dumbledore’s phoenix here? I thought he, like, disappeared into the ether?”
“Not Dumbledore’s phoenix, dear Ronniekins, Neville and my phoenix. But, really, if you want to get specific, it’s Godric Gryffindor’s phoenix, he’s just decided to adopt us for the time being.” Harry said with a shit-eating grin.
“Oh, alright, sick,” Ron said with a nod, “good afternoon, Fawkes, it’s lovely to see you.”
Ron was greeted by a melodic trill that had both Neville and Harry chuckling.
“It’s lovely to see you, Fawkes, I’m asking more questions about this later,” Hermione said with a long-suffering sigh, “but for now, you need to walk into this store before this lot loses what little is left of their sanity.”
With that, Harry was dragged into the store to be tortured (“Really, Haz, you’ve been literally tortured before, this absolutely cannot compare.” “You don’t know my life, Nev.” “I do, actually, just try on the fucking robe.”). An hour later, Harry paid for his purchases in a daze. He had some pieces he’d be leaving with today, but most of his robes would be sent to him via owl over the next couple of weeks. He now had several pairs of perfectly tailored slacks in black, navy, brown, and grey, shirts in different fabrics and colors for every season and occasion, jumpers (that actually fit) in different weights and colors, and robes that would be shipped later with their customizations.
Harry, despite all his complaining, was actually quite excited about the robes. He’d never really had wizarding clothes outside of his school uniform, his dress robes from the Yule Ball, and his Wizengamot robes.
The robes the girls had picked out were perfect. Most of them were the style he’d found he most liked from Regulus’s wardrobe; open robes that more resembled a cloak or cape that could be worn over classic slacks and shirts. After finding what style he was most comfortable in, he’d allowed the girls to run wild with colors and designs, his only request was that they don’t make him look like Dumbledore, a statement that was met by identical affronted looks from Susan, Daphne, Pansy, Padma, and Parvati. They’d decided that dark colors and jewel tones – whatever the fuck that meant – looked best with his skin tone. Harry was more than happy to just let them pick, trusting that they knew what was best and he wasn’t disappointed. After picking out the colors, fabrics, and styles, they’d discussed adornments. Harry would have several plain, casual robes with limited embroidery, but he was more excited, strangely enough, about the robes he’d wear when doing business as a Lord or attending formal functions. That wasn’t even counting the few true dress robes they’d convinced him he’d need.
The more formal robes would be adorned with the crests of his houses and would be more intricately woven with embroidery and enchantments. He’d asked for several of the robes to have astronomy-themed designs as an homage to the House of Black as well as Death’s eternal connection to the Heavens, not that he’d tell many people about that second reason.
Harry decided that wizarding clothes were great. Not only did they make him feel fancy and important, but magic made shopping so much easier. The tailor simply had to measure him and then pick out fabrics in order for him to create an entire wardrobe. He’d only had to actually try on a couple of pieces. The whole experience only took an hour. Having planned to come back to the Alley another day, after they’d actually received their book lists, to finish his shopping, Harry was ready to head home for the day but was stopped by a look from Hermione. Slowing his steps so the pair fell to the back of the group he gave her a look that said what do you need? and waited for her response.
“Do you need to get back to Teddy right away?” she asked.
“No, Andromeda and Narcissa are there, I have time, what did you need?”
“I was thinking, now that you’ve got an entire wizarding wardrobe, you might want to spend some money on muggle clothing that you actually like and that actually fits you, if I’m out of line or if it’s not something you want you can tell me that, but I just –”
Harry cut off her rambling by wrapping her in a hug and whispering into her ear, “I’d love that, ‘Mione, thank you for thinking of that, and” he cut himself off to clear his throat, oddly emotional at his friend’s care for him, “thank you for not bringing it up in front of the whole group. I really appreciate you.”
Hugging him back, blinking away the tears that had sprung up, she asked “do you want it to be just us two or should we bring Ron and Neville as well?”
“I think I’d prefer just us two, but we should find some time before September 1st to bring that group of poncey purebloods into Muggle London with us.” Harry said with a smile.
“Too right, Potter,” she said back with a laugh, “do you have pounds on you or do you need to stop back into Gringotts?”
“One of the Potter accounts is actually with HSBC, apparently my family has some property holdings in the Muggle world that do business through the bank, so I have a credit card. Let’s just split off from the group and then you can lead the way, I’m not sure which stores are the best to go to. I’ve only really gone to the grocers and some smaller department stores for things for Teddy.”
* * *
While not as easy as shopping for wizarding clothes, Harry and Hermione had a great time in Muggle London. They visted several department stores and quickly made their way through Hermione’s list of necessities. Harry finally had clothing he had picked out for himself. Styles and fabrics and colors that he actually liked. New clothing that was actually his size. More than that, the options that he and Hermione selected made him feel confident in his own skin. While the wizarding clothes that he’d picked out gave him confidence by making him feel powerful, the Muggle clothes gave him confidence by making him feel comfortable.
Given that Muggle clothing was less easily altered, he hadn’t gotten as large of a Muggle wardrobe as he had a Wizard one. But he’d picked out a couple pairs of jeans, some sweatpants and shorts, and several t-shirts and hoodies that would fit even if he grew a little more or continued to fill out muscle-wise. Hermione had also forced him to buy things like new socks and underwear, claiming she didn’t want to know the state of the garments the Dursleys had provided him.
The pair had decided to grab Ron and Neville as soon as they got back to Grimmauld and drag them out to the grounds of Potter Manor to have a ceremonial burning of everything Dursley.
After shrinking and pocketing their purchases and stopping for a quick dinner, they found an empty alley and apparated back to the front steps of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry dashed upstairs to put the bags in his room and grab his old trunk full of the belongings from his (literally) past life while Hermione grabbed Ron and Neville. The group then ducked back out the front door and grabbed onto Harry, using the portkey charmed to his Potter Ring to bring them to the Manor.
The group was greeted by a small horde of incredibly excited house elves. Harry asked the elves if there was a good spot for them to light a giant fire and one elf – that Harry decided it might be smart to never get on the bad side of – stepped forward with a manic glint in his eye, reminiscent of Dobby after siccing a rogue bludger on a twelve-year-old, and said he knew the perfect spot.
Harry asked the elves if they could prepare some food for Ron and Neville and tea for the group and told them they’d stay for a while tonight before returning to London and then promised, for the thousandth time, that he’d return soon with more people now that the Manor was in proper working order. Neville then suggested it might be fun to bring the group to the Manor for at least a week before they headed back to school.
Potter Manor was truly the opposite of Grimmauld Place. While Harry, Andromeda, Narcissa, and Kreacher had worked hard to clear Grimmauld of its ever-present darkness – and had done a truly incredible job – it was still situated in London and retained some of its historical darkness, just by nature of the Black Family Magic. Potter Manor, however, was situated on St. Ives Bay on the West Coast of Southern England. The Manor House was made of red brick and white-washed wood and surrounded by perfectly tended grounds with a view of the Bay. The Manor and its grounds felt like a breath of fresh air. The interior was decorated in shades of blue, cream, and gold with various red accents added by the many Gryffindors in the Potter Line. The House had several bedrooms, an incredible library, offices for the Lord, Heir, and Steward, a ballroom, a training room, a couple of sitting rooms, and a formal dining room. The grounds boasted a row of greenhouses, a private path to the seaside, and (in Harry’s opinion, the greatest feature) a full Quidditch pitch.
Harry quickly agreed with Neville’s plan, promising the elves that he’d be back soon with several friends before they headed back to school for their final year. The elves were more than excited at the idea of being around people after the Manor being empty for so long.
With a promise to return soon, the group followed the (pyromaniac?? probably..) elf to a spot on the grounds that would work well for a massive sodding bonfire.
While the sun began to set, Ron and Neville helped the elf light the fire and Harry and Hermione quickly sorted through Harry’s trunk. He set aside the few things he wanted to keep; Weasley sweaters, old Hogwarts uniforms that could be sentimental, the few belongings he’d actually purchased, some textbooks that were buried at the bottom of his trunk, and random photos that he’d collected from Colin over the years that he’d forgotten to add to a scrapbook. Everything else got thrown in a pile for the group to add to the fire.
As the group threw Harry’s belongings into the flames, they talked about their hopes for the upcoming year and about what they dreamed they could achieve in the future. Ron, Neville, and Harry were all considering becoming aurors. But, while Ron thought it might be a career he could see himself doing long-term, working to rise through the ranks, Harry and Neville saw it more as something they could do in their twenties while also working on masteries in Defense and Herbology, respectively. Each shily expressed a wish to maybe become a professor someday, a dream that was immediately supported by the rest of the group. Hermione still had hopes of changing the Ministry from the inside out. She had dreams of making the wizarding world more welcoming and accepting of those of every blood status and, more than that, of those who were currently viewed as creatures. The boys decided that, if anyone could do it, it was certainly Hermione. Neville and Harry both offered her their full support should she bring anything before the Wizengamot.
As the flames dwindled and the stars became clearer against the backdrop of the night sky, the quartet of Gryffindors made their way into the Manor. They spent a couple more hours talking about everything and nothing before returning to Grimmauld Place.
It was a day well spent. Harry and Neville had stepped seamlessly into their roles as Lords Slytherin and Gryffindor, they’d deepened their connection with their larger group of friends by telling stories they’d never really told, they gained a truly impressive familiar, Harry collected two new wardrobes and shed the last vestiges of his less than stellar youth, and they took time to bond further within their little group; sharing hopes and dreams for each other and the future.
As Harry drifted to sleep that night; with his little boy happily dreaming in the crib next to his bed, and his friends – new and old – sleeping in bedrooms scattered throughout this house he’d made a home, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way.