A chocolate will help
It was a cold night at Grimmauld Place, and the wind blew through the open window as the darkness of the evening deepened.
Harry sat on the edge of his bed, staring out at the swaying trees. He was spending his summer here, in the eerie old house, before heading back to Hogwarts. Normally, he would be able to hear the Order’s voices drifting through the halls, their constant chatter and arguments filling the air.
But tonight, there was an unusual silence. Perhaps they were giving him a break, sensing that he wasn't in the mood for their usual bickering.
He didn't mind. The abundance of noise was actually comforting in a way. It reminded him of what “home” felt like to him atleast. though the Dursleys were still the people he’d been forced to live with for far too long. At least this year, he couldn’t go back there, not after everything that had happened.
"All he needed was chocolate," Harry recalled under his breath, remembering how the Dursleys had reacted when Dudley was attacked by the dementor. They'd been horrified, and Harry had no doubt they believed him to be some kind of monster for what happened to their "poor Dudley."
He snorted at the absurdity of it. "As if he hasn't had enough to be cured immediately." It was a bitter thought, but a part of him felt oddly amused.
Harry settled back on his bed, his feet still on the floor. He didn’t bother to tuck himself in, never did. Instead, he absentmindedly traced his fingers over his scar, rubbing the raised, bumpy skin.
The scar was an old companion, a permanent reminder of the night that had changed everything. The night he should never have survived. What made him the “Boy-Who-Lived”. He hated the title and the memory.
The scar hardly healed over the years. It still hurt in places, and sometimes, it felt unusually sensitive. He could still feel the magic pulsing underneath the surface, a strange connection to the events of that night.
Before he could drift further into his thoughts, a letter suddenly fluttered through the open window, landing with a soft thud on the floor beside him. The owl that had dropped it off had already flown away before Harry could even blink.
"Must be an anonymous letter," Harry thought as he carefully picked it up. He peeled the wax seal off with meticulous care, trying to preserve the intricate design. He read the letter aloud in his head, though it made no sense to him.
---
Dear Harry Potter-Black,
I hope this letter finds you well. I wish to meet you, not yet, but in the past. I hope this year brings you good enemies and loving devotees. Your followers await your arrival.
Let the goat rest, and the snake take over.
Not known to you yet,
Luna Potter, née Lovegood
---
Harry stared at the letter, confused and disoriented. "Luna? As in Luna lovegood? As a Potter?" he repeated, his mind spinning. There was so much to process: followers? A goat? A snake? What did it all mean? And what did she mean by "not yet, but in the past"? Was this some kind of joke?
Harry glanced at the wax seal he had preserved.
it was a raven and a snake, intertwined, with the initials P. B. L engraved beneath. It was an odd, almost surreal detail. This didn't feel like a prank from Fred and George, or even Luna herself, though he considered the possibility.
The seal was too precise, too professional. almost as if it was a family heir.
It wasn’t something they could have easily made up.
But if it wasn’t a joke, then who had sent it? And why? Harry's head hurt just thinking about it.
He carefully slipped the letter back into its envelope and stowed it away in his trunk, hoping it would somehow disappear or that he would eventually find an explanation. He wasn’t sure what to make of it yet, but the mystery gnawed at him.
Days passed, but Harry couldn’t stop thinking about the letter. He had read it over and over, memorizing the strange words, but he still couldn’t make sense of it. The questions kept swirling in his mind. Was it a warning? A riddle? Or something else entirely?
When Ron and Hermione lettered to harry to do their school shopping together, Harry decided to bring the confusing letter with him. Maybe Ron knew something about the twins' mischief, or perhaps Hermione. Being the brightest of them all, could shed some light on it.
The letter felt almost sacred in his hands, as though it was an artifact he had to protect. The scent of lemon hung around it, faint but distinct, and the ink glimmered ever so slightly in the dim light of the room. It was beautiful, in a strange way—something about it stuck with Harry, even when he tried to push it aside.
As Harry walked into Diagon Alley, he couldn’t help but smile at the usual chaos. The Weasleys were everywhere, patting off the Floo powder from their clothes as though it had taken up permanent residence on them.
“Don’t laugh at me, Harry! As if you didn’t go to ‘Diagonally’ the first time!” Ron grumbled, patting off the last of the floo powder.
Hermione laughed. “i dont think it can be that far on foot. Go to the Muggle world, you’ll see how easy it is to walk for everything."
She said this, seconds after appearing behind Harry, startling him with her quiet footsteps.
“Aah!” Harry yelped, spinning around, hermione almost knocking him off his feet.
“When did you get here??!” Ron said, his voice cracking slightly in surprise.
“I’ve been here the whole time, how rude of you not to notice!” Hermione replied, a little too smugly for ron’s liking.
“Yeah, Ron, didn’t you see her?” Harry said, his voice filled with mock innocence, though his face betrayed him.
Ron scowled, but it only lasted for a moment before all three of them burst into laughter.
It felt good to tease each other, to forget the weight of the past for a moment and just be kids again. They had missed each other.
Missed this.
Together, they continued down Diagon Alley, picking out new school supplies and laughing over the absurdity of it all.
The letter, however, still burned a hole in Harry’s bag, the mystery of it tugging at him with each step he took.
“Harry?” Hermione looked at him worryingly, of course she’d notice first. “Whats got you thinking like that?”
Harry hadn’t even noticed that he was staring at the ground the entire time. Just staring. Thinking for what mustve been an hour.
“Id rather wait to explain on the train, ‘Mione..”
harry said, quietly.
Hermione understood, nodding her head , smacking ron on the upside to gain his attention who reluctantly agreed aswell.
"Alright alright. But dont be expecting me to not be questionin' you an awful lot." said ron, rubbing his now hurt head.
Harry followed behind the two, walking into kings cross station.