Day Twenty-Eight
“I’m sure this is weird,” Regulus apologizes.
Harry shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets as he follows him through the hallways of the second floor. “You know the house better than I do. What did you want to show me?”
“Um, I thought you’d like to see- well- here,” He stops in front of a door and pushes it open, stepping back to let Harry inside.
He does so hesitantly, mildly confused at what he sees. It’s a bedroom, as surprisingly clean as the rest of the house had been after so many years of disuse. Dizzy had really done wonders. At first, it seems generic, but then his gaze lands on a Gryffndor banner and a collage of photos. There are Quidditch posters strewn everywhere and a bookshelf full of textbooks that Harry knows well.
“Is this-” he hardly dares to ask as he steps further in. “Is this dad’s room?”
“Yeah,” he says softly. “I guess it’s a bit morbid, but-”
“No, no, it’s-” his voice catches on tears. “I- this is- give me the tour?”
Regulus gives him a sad smile. “It’s a lot cleaner than it usually was I can tell you that much,”
Harry laughs wetly. “I’m sure. Is this- I mean, this is weird for you, right?”
“We hadn’t lived here for months by the time I- it’s a little less weird,” He walks over to the wall that’s the most decorated. “I’m glad he never bothered to clean it out. Otherwise, these would have been lost,”
Harry walks over to look at the pictures. His tears start to fall a little harder when he sees how many there are. “Hagrid gave me this photo album of pictures he got from other people. I always thought they would be the only ones, but- this is…”
He doesn’t even know where to look. There are so many. His eyes finally land on a picture that’s front and center, clearly one of the ones of most importance. It’s of four boys, so young that Harry almost doesn’t believe what he’s seeing. But Remus’s scars are the same, and so is Sirius’s hair. Peter is almost unrecognizable to him, but James is like seeing his eleven-year-old self again. It’s the first time he realizes that people aren’t exaggerating when they say he looks like his dad.
“I think that was the first picture they ever took together,” Regulus says fondly.
“They’re so small,” he laughs.
“They took one every year,” he says, pointing to a few similar pictures scattered around the wall. In each one, the boys progressively get older until they start to look more like the men Harry had known. “Jamie had a camera. We all pretended we hated it, but he took good photos,”
“Is that mum?” he asks, bending over to look at a smaller picture in a corner. She’s laughing, and then the laugh turns into a scowl, her hand thrown in front of her face.
Regulus laughs. “Yeah, it is. He drove her crazy,”
“You know… in your letter, you wouldn’t tell me how they got together,”
“Lily tells it better,” he says like it’s an automatic response. Tears pool in the corner of his eyes. “Or she- she did,”
Harry’s heart aches in an all too familiar way. “Da-”
“I’m fine,” he cuts him off, wiping away the tears.
“Well, I know where I get that from,” he huffs. Then he steps forward and wraps his arms around him. “I can be strong for you, Dad. I’ve lived with it for years,”
The damn breaks, and Regulus hugs him back, putting a hand on the back of his head to cradle him like he’s a little kid. “You shouldn’t have to,”
“You shouldn’t have to either,” he says softly. “But here we are,”
“I just hoped- I didn’t think they would all be gone,” he sobs into his shoulder. “I’m so happy that I have you, but-”
“I know,” he murmurs. “It’s not the same,”
Regulus pulls away again, wiping at his eyes. “I’ll be okay,”
“We haven’t talked about it,” Harry says cautiously. “About how you knew I was even alive,”
“I, um- I didn’t,” he sighs. “I… I kept asking for Jamie,”
His heart sinks. “Oh,”
“Yeah,” he says bitterly. “I kept asking to talk to James, and they finally said, ‘The only Potter is Harry Potter,’ so I demanded to see you. I had put together time passing by that point, so I figured you were older,”
“I’m sorry,”
His face morphs into one of regret. “No, Harry, don’t be sorry. I meant what I said. I’m happy that I have you. You’re enough,”
He smiles weakly. “Still, I wish there was someone who-” An idea strikes him. “I’m an idiot. Andy,”
“Andy?” he frowns. “You mean- Andromeda?”
Harry nods. “I’ll set it up. I think… I think it would be good for her too. And you can meet Teddy,”
“Teddy?”
A smile breaks out on his face. He can’t help it. “Teddy, my godson, her grandson. He stays with her because I’m- well, I’m just not ready to take him. But he’s adorable and good for the soul,”
Regulus stares at him bewildered. “Who- he’s Nymphadora’s son?”
“And Remus,”
“What?”
Harry blinks back at him, realizing that this is a little bit more shocking than he expected it to be. “Um, yeah,”
“How old is he?”
“Two months?” Harry says, trying to do the math. “I think?”
Regulus sinks down onto the end of the bed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, that is a turn of events I was not expecting. But I guess- how long were they together?”
“I’m not sure exactly, maybe a year? Why?”
He nods somberly like he’s putting pieces together. “So it was after Sirius died,”
“Why does that matter?”
His dad looks up at him in surprise. Then sighs. “I really don’t mean to keep turning your life upside down,”
“You came back from the dead. I think it’s to be expected,” he says warily. “But what now?”
“You don’t know about them. About Remus and Sirius?”
Harry sways slightly and puts a hand on the desk to steady himself. He lets the information sink in and finds it not as surprising as it could have been. In fact, it answers a lot of questions. Still, all he can say is, “Wow,”
“Yeah,” Regulus says with a puff of air. “Indeed,”
Suddenly, being in his dad’s old room with pictures of all the people they’d lost was too much. The grief feels suffocating between the four walls, and he sways again. He forces himself to take a deep breath. “I think I’m gonna- I can’t- I don’t want to ghost,”
Regulus stands up immediately, hands flying forward to steady him. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just-” His chest is starting to tighten again. “Shit, it’s happening-”
He grabs one of Harry’s hands and places it over his own chest. He starts to take deep, steadying breaths. “Focus on breathing with me. In and out,”
It’s easier to match his breathing to the rise and fall of someone else’s rather than navigate the tide himself. In and out. In and out. For a second, he thinks it’s all for naught as white creeps into his vision, but then his dad’s voice anchors him.
“Harry, you’re alive. You’re alive. You just have to inhale,”
Had he stopped? He forces himself to concentrate on inhaling deeply, and he’s surprised when he starts to cough.
“There we go. Again, come on,”
Inhale. Exhale. Another cough. The white starts to fade, and the hand on his lungs loosens. The room narrows back into focus.
“I’m here,” he says, his voice hoarse. “I’m here,”
“You never left,” Regulus assures him. “You’ve been here the whole time. You’re alive. Keep breathing for me,”
He exhales shakily, focusing again on the in and out. The assurance that he didn’t actually go anywhere is more comforting than he expected. When he starts to feel normal, he realizes he’s sitting on the ground.
“I’m good,” he says. “I can breathe,”
“Good,” Regulus sighs.
“You’re good at that,”
He grimaces. “Sirius and I got good at working each other through the panic attacks that came with living in a house like ours. I know they’re not quite the same, but-”
“It worked, I’m not complaining,” he says. Then softer. “Thanks,”
He grins. “I missed out on most of the diapers. I’m happy to take on the panic attacks,”
He rolls his eyes. “Dad,”
Regulus laughs. “Come on, let’s get you up,”
“Hermione’s going to be upset,” he groans as he pushes off the floor. “I had one the other day that really freaked her out,”
“Why?” he asks.
“My death was hard on her,” he sighs. They step back into the hallway, shutting the door behind them. It feels like stepping out of a frozen moment, like time hadn’t existed while they were inside. “And she’s been through some… stuff,”
Regulus frowns and then lowers his voice. “I saw her scar,”
Harry grimaces. “She puts a glamor on it most days,”
“Her sleeve slipped. I can’t imagine-”
“Let’s just not,” he says, shaking his head. “I can hardly get her to talk about it with me or Ron. I don’t- it’s not my place,”
“I understand,” he nods. “Can I give you some advice?”
“On Hermione? Sure,”
“If she’s anything like your mum… it’s probably affecting her a lot more than she lets on,” he says softly. “It meant a lot to Lily when we went out of our way to tell her how special she was,”
He nods in understanding. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, dad,”
Regulus laughs. “You know, I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of hearing that,”
Harry grins. “I don’t think I’ll get sick of saying it,”
“Oh! There you two are,”
He looks up, startled to see Hermione about to go into their room. “Hi. Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I just, um- I wanted to talk to you about something, but if you’re busy then-”
“No, no, we’re done, right?” he says.
“Yeah, he’s all yours,” Regulus grins with a clap on his shoulder.
Harry nods at him and then follows her into their bedroom, concerned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she says as she shuts the door. “I just, um-”
He frowns and wraps his arms around her. “Baby, what’s going on?”
“It’s silly,” she huffs. “I was just lonely,”
“Well, that’s allowed,” he laughs. “Where’s Ron?”
“Burrow. I think Ginny wrangled him into an attempt to get George out of the house for a bit,”
“Ah,” he says somberly. Then he notices the way she’s rubbing her arm like she’s resisting the urge to scratch. “Is your arm okay?”
She blushes. “I’m fine,”
“Mi-”
“I said I’m fine,”
He sighs and gently takes her arm, pushing the sleeve back. As expected, there’s a glamor over the scar. “Is it the spell? Or the scar?”
“Does it matter?” she asks softly.
“Well, if it’s your glamor, you can take it off,”
She huffs and pulls her wand out of her pocket, waving it over her arm. He brings it closer to inspect it, running his thumb around the outside of the words. “It doesn’t look inflamed or anything. Have you been putting anything on it? I know Fleur gave you that stuff,”
“I stopped,” she says quietly. “It didn’t- it wasn’t going away. I didn’t think it was working. I was looking into some other options,”
“Sweetheart,” he says softly. “I don’t think it’s ever going to,”
“It has to,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “It- I can’t- it has to,”
“Alright, shh, come here,” he murmurs, pulling her into a hug. She clings to his shirt, not even crying, just quiet.
“It has to,” she repeats, her voice small.
“Does it hurt?” he asks concerned.
“No, it just gets itchy like my other one does,” she says softly. “I looked it up. It’s normal with scar tissue,”
“Your other one?” he frowns. “What other one?”
She taps the center of her chest. “Dolohov, at the ministry. I hide that one too,”
“Baby,” he sighs. He tugs on her hand. “Come here,”
“I’m fine, really-”
“Mi,” he says firmly. “Let me take care of you. Please?”
She sighs and allows him to drag her into the bathroom. He taps the counter for her to sit while he digs in the potions cupboard. He finds what he’s looking for easily, making a small noise of triumph. He turns and shows her the bottle.
“Murtlap Essence?” she asks.
“It helps this,” he says, holding up his hand. “Shirt off, come on,”
“Harry…”
“Hermione,” he replies in a sing-song tone. He sets the bottle on the counter and slides his fingers under the hem of her shirt, tugging it over her head. “Show it to me,”
“Fine,” she mutters. Again she grabs her wand and waves it over her skin, revealing a long white scar, jagged at the edges. He traces his fingers over it, remembering the moment it had happened.
“Why do you hide this one?” he asks gently, picking up the bottle again. He unscrews the dropper and drizzles some on her skin, catching the falling drops with his other hand and rubbing it in.
“I didn’t used to,”
“Well, why did you start?”
She looks away, her cheeks pink. “Because you started seeing me naked,”
“What?” he asks. “Baby, you know we don’t- sweetheart, it’s just a scar,”
“They just… they don’t make me feel pretty,”
He sighs and presses his forehead against hers, trying to find the right thing to say. “I love you. Scars or no, you are beautiful, and I’m sorry that they make you not feel that way,”
Her eyes well with tears. “I love you too,”
He presses a kiss to her forehead before turning his attention back to her arm. “You know Ron said something similar? About the ones on his arms?”
“He did?”
“He said they made him feel useless,”
She scoffs. “Well, that just- that’s silly,”
He gives her a knowing smile. “I told him that they meant he was there. His scars are there because he showed up for me when I needed him, and so are yours. I hate that your bodies have been marked because of me-”
“Harry-”
“No, let me finish,” he says. He starts to work the oil into her arm. “I hate that you have these scars because of me. But they remind me of everything we’ve been through, and I’m just so damn grateful that we’re alive that they feel beautiful to me,”
“Oh,”
His thumb traces over the word etched into her skin. “I- I thought we were going to lose you,” he says softly. “And I hate that you have this, but I would rather you scarred than dead,”
“Oh, sweetheart,” she says softly, cupping his face. Her thumb brushes away a tear.
“I don’t want you to feel guilty or anything like that. I just- I just want you to know that I think they’re beautiful. Because they mean you’re alive and you’re here, and I get to love you,”
“When did you get so wise?” she asks softly.
He laughs and nuzzles into her palm. “I don’t know about that,”
“You really don’t think they’re ugly?”
He shakes his head and brings her arm up to kiss it. “I don’t think a single thing about you is ugly. I never have. Do you want to know what the stupidest thing I’ve ever done was?”
“What?” she asks warily.
“Not asking you to Yule ball,”
She laughs. “That’s- you didn’t because of Ron,”
“Exactly, and it was stupid. I should have asked you,” he laughs. “Not only would it have made sense, but you just- you deserved better from me. From us,”
Her cheeks turn pink again. “Well, not to pour salt in the wound, but it’s not like I had a bad time,”
He laughs. “I know. I’m glad. But the point stands. You’re beautiful, you always have been, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life making sure you know that,”
She straightens up a little, slinging her arms around his neck. “And how are you going to do that, hmm?”
He laughs and places his hands on her bare waist, kissing her softly. “You want me to show you?”
She bites her lip and nods, spreading her knees so he can step between them better. He kisses her deeper this time, letting tongues explore, and hands roam over each other. With every kiss, he slides his arms tighter around her, desperately trying to pull her closer. Her hands tangle in his hair with just enough pressure to make him moan. His fingers find the clasp of her bra, and she sighs when he releases it, making him laugh.
“Feel better?” he teases as he slides it off her arms.
“You try wearing one of those all day!” she huffs playfully before kissing him again.
He forces himself away from her mouth and starts down her neck, kissing and sucking all the way down. He tilts her back gently against the mirror and kisses all the way down her sternum, covering every inch of the scar. Then he raises his head and takes one of her nipples in his mouth, bringing his hand up to play with the other one. He hears the thunk of her head against the mirror and can’t help but grin at the soft moan.
“Tease,” she mutters, though her tone is fond.
He laughs and pulls away, yanking her hips sharply to slide her off the counter.
“Harry!” she yelps as she scrambles to find purchase on her feet again.
“What?” he grins.
Then he kisses her hard again, pushing her backward towards the bedroom, hands gripping her tightly to keep her from falling over. When the back of her knees hit the bed, he lets go, pushing her softly so she falls onto the mattress. He swiftly undoes the button of her jeans and pulls the denim down her legs, taking her underwear with it.
“Beautiful,” he hums, taking a moment to appreciate her.
Her cheeks turn pink. “Will you get down here already?”
“So impatient,” he laughs.
He tugs his own clothes off before crawling on top of her, sighing as skin touches skin. He tangles his fingers in both of her hands and pushes them above her head, using the other hand to pin her hip to the bed. He mouths at her neck, sucking and biting at the skin. A hot wave of possessiveness courses through him when he sees the red mark on her collarbone.
“Baby, please,” she whimpers, bucking into him.
“Alright, alright,” he laughs. He pulls away long enough to swipe the bottle off the nightstand. “So needy,”
“I’m not!”
He raises an eyebrow at her as he slicks up at his fingers. “Uh huh,”
She ducks her gaze away. “Okay, fine, maybe a little,”
“Only a little?” he teases, barely brushing his fingers against her core. “So this is enough then?”
“Harry!” she pouts.
He bends over her again, ghosting his lips across hers. “If you want something, just ask baby,”
“Please,” she whispers. “I just want you,”
“I want you too,” he murmurs, kissing her softly as he sinks a finger into her body. She arches up into him, moaning into his mouth. “Fuck, baby, you’re dripping. You weren't kidding,”
“I told you I was lonely,” she whines. “Another, come on,”
He laughs but does as she asks. “So bossy. Wasn’t it yesterday that I could hardly kiss you without you blushing?”
“Yeah, well-” A broken moan cuts off her words. “Fuck, right there,”
He crooks his fingers again, trying to do it right. “That feels good, baby?”
“Mhmm,” she gasps, leaning up for another kiss. “But- want you- please,”
The hungry look in her eye and his own arousal is enough to cut his teasing mood short. He pulls his fingers out and uses what’s left on his hand to slick himself up. She lets her knees fall open wider to give him room, and they both moan when he sinks in. He sits still for a moment, giving them both time to adjust while their chests pant in the same heaving rhythm.
“Okay,” she finally whimpers. “Move, please,”
He braces himself on his elbows, grabbing each of her hands in turn before snapping his hips forward in a deep stroke. He keeps moving in short but languid motions, loathe to part his body from hers more than absolutely necessary. There’s something soft and tender about the way they move together as if they’re moving as one body rather than two. He ducks his head down to kiss the scar on her chest again, hoping to eradicate every ounce of self-doubt he can from her mind.
“My pretty girl,” he murmurs, right into her chest.
“Harry,” she whimpers. “Please,”
“What baby?” he hums, drawing up to kiss her lips again. “You close?”
“Yeah,” she whines. “I think- oh, I’m so close,”
“Just like this?” he asks softly, a bit in awe. “That’s my good girl, fuck you’re incredible,”
There’s a short moment of anticipation, both of them just hovering on the edge. But then Hermione’s head tips back, and she swears, tipping over the precipice with a soft moan and a shudder around him. He’s not long after, his whole body tightening in a single moment of sharp pleasure before collapsing against her, energy spent.
She makes a soft noise, and he brushes his fingers through her curls, trying to soothe her. “That’s my good girl. You did so good for me, baby, I love you,”
“You feel good,” she mumbles, winding her arms around his back to keep him there.
“Yeah?” he chuckles. “Not squishing you?”
“Like it,” she hums. “Good squish,”
He laughs and kisses her cheek. “Okay, honey. Whatever you need,”
They lay there in the quiet, letting their harmonized breathing fall into a softer tempo. All the while murmuring soft things and exchanging gentle touches. Eventually, Hermione gives a small huff and pushes on his chest. “Okay. Too much squishing,”
He pushes himself onto his hands to take his weight before pulling away. “Good?”
“Yeah,” she blushes. Then she looks around before groaning in annoyance. “My wand is in the bathroom,”
“I got it,” he says, bending down to scoop up his own. “I love magic,”
She throws her head back and laughs. “It is rather handy after, isn’t it? I still think I’ll shower, though,”
“Room for me?” he grins, reaching out to help her up.
“Always,”
They’re just getting in, hot water rinsing away worries and sweaty skin, when Ron’s voice echoes through the room. “Hey! You two in here?”
“Shower!” Hermione calls back.
Ron’s head pokes around the curtain. “Hi,”
“Hi,” Harry laughs. Then he notices the sort of somber expression on his face. “Didn’t go so well, huh?”
He sighs, the sound barely audible over the water. “Not really. Can I join?”
“Of course,” Hermione says, clearly concerned.
When he gets in, he immediately wraps his arms around Harry, resting his forehead in the crook of his neck. Harry frowns and reaches a hand up to pet his hair. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
“Mum’s still peeved about the Auror thing,” he huffs. “And they were all asking about Regulus. I just wanted to play Quidditch with Gin and George and not worry about things for a bit, but they wouldn’t let up. Well, Mum and Dad wouldn’t,”
“I’m sorry,” he sighs.
“‘S fine,” he mumbles. “Just missed you both,”
“We missed you too,” Hermione smiles.
He peeks his head up at that and gives them both a small smirk. “Oh sure, that’s why you’re in the shower together,”
Harry laughs and swats his shoulder. “We can miss you at the same time,”
“I know,” he chuckles. “Only teasing,”
“Switch,” Hermione hums, stepping out from the water stream.
“You know we really should make this thing bigger,” Harry huffs as he steps around her. “I mean, it’s better than the last one, but really,”
“You’re okay with changing things?” she asks, surprised.
“Well, yeah, it’s our house,” he shrugs. “And there’s three of us in one bathroom. I’m open to edits,”
Ron looks at her knowingly. “You already have ideas, don’t you,”
“I might have a few,” she mumbles.
“Hey, Semper Ad Meliora,” Harry grins. “Who says it can’t be a new shower?”
They both laugh at him, but the mention of his family motto reminds him of earlier.
“Um, so-” he takes a deep breath. “I ghosted earlier,”
“What?!” Ron yelps.
“By yourself?”
“No, no, I was with Dad,” he says quickly. “I’m okay. It was short. But I didn’t want to keep it from you either,”
“What happened?” Hermione frowns.
“He was showing me Dad’s old room- wow, that’s weird- and I just got overwhelmed. Apparently, Sirius and Remus used to be together, so there’s that. I told him I’d set something up for him to see Andy,”
“Wow,” Ron whistles. “And I thought my day was rough,”
He shrugs. “It was fine, really. Well… it’s not fine. He’s not fine, I don’t think. But I’m okay,”
“I can’t imagine he’ll be fine for a long time,” Hermione sighs.
“Yeah,” he agrees glumly. “But we didn’t think we would either, and look where we are,”
“You just ghosted,” Ron says.
“Yeah, and I’m having a normal conversation after,” he huffs. “They aren’t as debilitating anymore. You’re an Auror. We’re willingly going to visit Hogwarts in a few days. I mean, things are completely different from the day we came home,”
“They are, aren’t they?” Hermione says softly. “I- I hadn’t even realized,”
“We’re getting better, and he will too,” Harry smiles. “We just have to keep going,”
“Semper Ad Meliora?” Ron laughs.
“Yeah,” he agrees, his tone light but still serious. “Semper Ad Meliora,”