Chapter 2
Harry was so done with the adults in his life. All of them seemed to lack common sense and it was letting him adrift in the middle of an oncoming war. The Ministry had always forbidden the witches and wizards in formative years to do any kind of magic during the vacations and it was completely ridiculous in Harry’s opinion.
He was being restricted in learning during school days and saw his magic get lazy under his skin during summer time. After three years of incompetent teachers, he was starting to doubt Dumbledore’s ability, or the lack thereof, to actually hire people with the correct knowledge. The only good teacher he ever had was Remus, and for Ministry orders, the man was forbidden to teach at Hogwarts.
It was like if the Ministry was trying to keep the future witches and wizards from learning anything, they should defend themselves against the upcoming war with Voldemort. In Harry’s opinion and after the death of Cedric Diggory, he was sure no Dead Eater would be lenient to any of those caught in the middle of that shitty dispute, especially those with muggle upbringings or from muggle blood, like Hermione.
Blood wasn’t everything. Cedric was a pureblood, not a half-blood. But he was unalived in the middle of that power-trip dispute.
It wasn't about blood.
But for Voldemort, it was. Still is, or so, he was selling his story again. How was any of those nitwits buying any of that? It was madness...
“What are you thinking about, boy?” Mad-Eye Moody whacked him into awareness, looking at the houses in front of them. “I know that you were raised in a muggle neighborhood, so quit the baffled face already. This is Grimmauld Place, the safest place for you right now.”
Kingsley seemed to think differently.
"Since when?" the black-skinned wizard asked in disbelief.
Harry was up there with him in his bafflement.
“Since always, actually,” the seasoned Auror stated softly. “But no one is going to refute Albus, being him the most powerful wizard in our times after Grindelwald himself.”
“Don’t worry, Harry,” Tonks tried to be nice and polite. “Those are just guesses. Come now,” she stated once the houses stopped splitting in half. “Come.”
And then, he was entering a very creepy house that gave him the chills. Maybe the person this house belonged to was partly related to Dementors. Maybe they were all born in that place where he was supposed to live now.
“Homenum revelio,” Moody said and a cluster of voices started to gain volume.
He recognized the voice of Mistress Weasley and that of her husband and he smiled. Maybe this was not the place where Dementors were born after all. Molly would never let anything bad happen to her kids, and for what was worth, she proclaimed and claimed Harry as hers every single opportunity she got.
And Harry knew it. He knew he had a family in the Weasleys.
“Harry!” Hermione’s voice reached his ears before he could even set eyes on her.
He turned fast on his heels, getting himself an armful of Hermione. He embraced her tightly. Her softness and warmth in his arms was one of the best feelings ever. Hermione meant a lot to him.
Those who lacked a family would be gifted with one by the universe, those were Professor McGonagall’s words and he was prone to believe her.
“Mione,” he whispered against her shoulder.
Her perfume soothing him, like a hug from a beloved...
“Hey, mate,” Ron said, patting Hermione in the shoulder. "Let him breathe, Hermione.”
To Harry it sounded more like 'It is my turn now, lemme have my hug.' Harry laughed but let go when Hermione put distance between them.
“You look better,” she stated, while Ron crushed him in his hug.
“Good to see you again, mate.” He started softly, patting Harry’s back. “Glad to have you back home. Even if said home is a bit creepy...”
Harry felt more than welcomed. He felt loved in a sense that he never did before. Maybe it was the constant lack of love and attention he lived in for the last decade or so.
“We still need to feed him into a more filled form,” Molly stated. “Those awful muggles…” She huffed. “I will have dinner ready soon, Harry. Just after we finish this very important conversation.”
And then, she was gone to bustle in the kitchen.
“Harry,” he turned and saw Sirius.
“Sirius!” He ran towards his godfather’s arms and squeezed the hell out of him. “You are here.”
His godfather rubbed his back softly.
“Where else would I be, squirt?”
"Never guessed that you will be in this creepy, old house," he mumbled, feeling his cheeks flushing warm when his thoughts failed to stay inside his head.
Sirius barked a laugh at his words.
Harry smiled. He had Sirius now, as well as the Weasleys.
“Okay. Harry, go upstairs. There are clothes and a bed ready for you. First room at the right,” Mrs. Weasley stated. “Go with him, kids. Go.”
And then, they were climbing the stairs and going up.
“Harry!” George yelled, smiling in place.
He wondered if the twins were happy just by knowing the other was always by their side. He asked himself if he would have been gifted with a thing, if he would still feel the simmering rage that was building inside his chest. It has been there for a few weeks now, and he was getting... madder with every passing day.
He was confused and hurt.
“Finally, here,” Fred continued, drawing him closer to his taller body. "Welcome home, Hazza."
He hugged the pair of troublemakers, feeling better and better with every passing second. The rage bubbling inside his chest took a step back, nearly disappearing. Until he opened his eyes and looked into piercing blue ones.
What is wrong with mw? Why am I so enraged all the time?
“Hey. Nice to see you both again." He put distance between him and the pranksters to look at the girl with platinum blonde hair and pretty blue eyes.
Harry has never seen her before.
“Hello, Harry,” she said softly, lifting her eyes from the magazine in a very weird way. “Do you think Snorkacks might want to be out on a chilly night like tonight?”
"Uh..." he was turning his head towards Hermione, because he had zero idea about what a snork cat was.
“Harry, this is Loon…” Hermione started but had to rethink. “I mean, Luna Lovegood.”
The door was slammed against the wall when a ball of red hair and endless energy came barreling into the room with a freckled face.
“Harry! You are here.” Ginny was hugging him in a second and then, she was pushing him away so unceremoniously to walk past him and sitting beside the blonde girl. “Hey, Luna. Are you staying with us?"
Luna nodded.
“Yes, my dad has to fetch my brother from the International Portkey Station,” she stated airily, her eyes blinking at him.
It was... Eery.
“I didn’t know you have a brother,” George stated. “Did you Fred?”
“Nope, never heard of him.” And then, the twins were pulling something out. "So, about the oh-so-secret meeting..."
"When they start a meeting again..."
Harry saw them picking up an ear. A very human looking ear that was attached to a can by a chord.
"We can hear what they are up to," George continued.
"Well, they are not going to right now," Ginny said. "Mom said that the right people weren't here to give details."
Harry wondered why Giny knew that.
"Sad," George said, putting the ear away and looking longingly at the stairs. "It would have been great to eavesdrop." Grin in place.
"Tomorrow, it will be," Fred said, patting his twin's back.
"What about your brother?" Ginny asked, eyeing Luna's magazine. "I have never seen him and you have been our neighbor like... Forever."
“He is older than me and he is coming to visit,” she stated, putting on her strange glasses. “He was born sick, that’s why they took him away. To cure him, somewhere with more proficient wizards.”
“Dumbledore is proficient,” Harry stated.
“Not in the illness-field that befell my brother, he is not,” she stated softly.
“Dumbledore is great, but there are branches of magic that not even him wants to dabble in, Harry,” Hermione stated. “Dumbledore is not an altruistic person, either.”
“How can you say that, Hermione?” Ron asked. “He literally saved the Wizarding world when Grindelwald was reigning chaos.”
Hermione took a deep breath and Harry sat down... Very, very, very far away from her. He knew this was going to be very heavy. Hermione was like a walking library and she had that light in her eyes that spoke about her knowing things that none of the fifteen year-old wizards in the room seemed to know… or the older ones for that matter.
Not even the mischievous twins.
“Well, Ronald, for starters, I am very sure he was the one who showed Grindelwald everything related to the madness that befell the world at that time. That part was conveniently left out of every history book available. No one gains knowledge from nowhere, or without being directed there first,” she stated softly. “They were lovers and even you have to admit that Dumbledore has a view of the world that is very narrow and twisted, even for someone that the Wizarding World claims to be that great and amazing as he is. It makes zero sense. In his mind you are either useful or you are not. He divides the people into good kind and bad batches, but no one is just that. Martin Luther King said once that the ultimate tragedy is not the oppression and cruelty by the bad people but the silence over that by the good ones.” She crossed her arms and looked up defiantly. Harry wasn’t envying Ron, not really. He didn’t want to be at the end of that glare. Never. “They were lovers, he knew where to find Grindelwald, he knew Grindelwald needed help but he never offered either. He never offered Grindelwald medical help, he never offered him to the authorities, did you know that?” she stated. “He decided it was best if he dueled him and called it a day. And he never offered help to Harry, either. He is not as good as everyone wants to believe. No one is, because even when we have magic running through our veins, we are still humans and so is Dumbledore. And humans are bound to err."
And then Hermione was walking out and closing the door with too much force. The walls rattled with the force of her slamming and they winced.
"Nice, Ronnikins," Ginny mumbled.
“Seriously, little brother, you need to learn how to keep your mouth shut if you are not going to be the smartest wizard in the room.” George patted his back condescendingly.
Ron sighed.
Draco was looking around while his uncle Xenophilus talked with the muggle taxi driver.
“Why is he so excited?” the muggle asked.
His uncle just laughed it off.
“Haven’t been here in the last twelve years,” he stated softly. “His mother was moved to work in Assia. They left when the kid was just a toddler that wanted to climb over everything.” He stated softly, looking at Draco over his shoulder. “So, I think he might be very excited about seeing everything again with his very own eyes.”
The taxi driver laughed while Draco kept looking at everything around, his blood humming happily at being in the place that was his home by birthright. Maine told him that it might be another thing, that usually wizard’s blood didn’t sing to them with whispers of happiness.
Especially not because there was a war brewing in England… in the wizarding world.
“Are we going to your house or are we going to stop to fetch something for Luna first?” he asked softly, looking at all the little places that seemed to advertise candies and chocolate.
If Luna was still Luna, she would never turn down a good bag of candy. She was so soft like that and Draco loved her for that. There were just so many expectations over all the students at Mahoutokoro that left him nearly dry. It affected his blood and his need to change and transform constantly.
Healer Mason discussed that deeply with him during sessions. Newt discussed that with him every other blue moon, when the man would come visit him with more questions than answers for his uneasiness. Newt was like any other poking mediwitch, even if the man himself never studied anything related to healing.
“Dray.” His uncle called him and he was pulled from his thoughts. “We are here. Let's pick up a few things for Luna and yourself. After all, your mother said ‘new clothes.’”
His uncle paid the taxi driver and ushered him inside a mall. Draco was happy to discover that Louis Vuitton seemed to have a good assortment of things in their store. He loved their cashmere jumpers and the jeans. Adidas was another thing he learned to love rather quickly. He had no idea why wizards insisted on using such uncomfortable shoes.
“And formal shoes,” Xenophilus said. “Because school is starting soon, and even when those look very comfy to walk around, it is improper to match them with trousers, shirts, cardigans and ties.”
“Private school?” the salesperson asked him when his uncle took a step back to peer into the shoes.
“Yeah,” he stated softly. “Uniforms are a must everyday there.”
Not that it was different in Mahoutokoro, but at least, that school wasn’t bugging him about uncomfortable shoes all day, because accordingly to the Asian tradition, shoes must be taken out before entering the main halls of the school, cleaning is supposed to be done by the student body in equal parts every day and shoes were supposed to stay in lockers.
“Good luck there, kid,” the woman said. “Have heard that those are full of brats.”
Draco laughed it without humor.
“Don’t I know it,” he huffed his words in a mumble.
He was just changing one school to another, not complete worlds.
So, after not finding anything of Draco’s liking in Louis Vuitton, he dragged his uncle towards Kenneth Cole to find something that didn’t fall apart in the first term.
“Did mother say when she is coming back?” Draco asked.
Xeno cupped his cheek in his large hand.
“I am very sorry, Draco, but she didn’t say.” He stated softly. “Maybe, grab a bag while we are here too, yes?” he encouraged him. “Or two, because I am pretty sure you might want two of those. Also, we need to buy bell pans.”
Draco made a face and Xeno saw his father's face.
“Bell pans?” he asked in an incredulous voice. “For what?"
"Writing?"
"A ball pen, maybe.” Draco offered, trying to squash his giggling.
Xeno patted his shoulder softly.
“That, exactly what I said,” he smiled down at his nephew. “A few of those.”
Draco pondered the request.
“Okay,” he started. “And a few notebooks and a planner.”
Xeno sighed and shook his head. This kid...
“Okay,” he conceded… Nothing more to do there but bend to the kids' whims. “Let's do that and then, let's go home. Well, pick up Luna from our neighbors. You are going to like them. They are very likable.”
Draco nodded condescendingly and Xeno knew he just lost the kid to whatever that was happening inside that convoluted head of him. He was sure that Mahoutokoro was way better than Hogwarts, not that Hogwarts was bad to teach the kids, but a war was brewing in the horizon and the Ministry has been on a rampant desire to keep the real knowledge away from the kids.
It was trouble and worrisome to an extent he couldn’t start to understand completely. The kids were kids, and they were being used like pawns in a chess match, especially the Potter kid. Xenophilus felt pity and indignity on behalf of the kid.
And he felt bad things towards Albus. How could he just let the kid in that horrible house? Half of their community knew what the Potter heir was put through just because Albus was neglecting to acknowledge the truth. Surely Lilly would have never wanted for her only kid to be treated this bad.
Like those muggles treated the boy. Like garbage.
He left Draco to his findings while he tried to keep his magic under wraps. The kid needed him now. Draco wasn’t back because he was getting better, but because he was getting worse and Narcissa wanted him to have the best, to achieve the thing he wanted to achieve and he… he could hope on board with the wishes of a single mother.
Especially one that could harm her child any second.
He felt sorry for her, just like he still felt sorry for himself. Still, when Draco asked for advice in book colors, he gave the kid his two cents to make a dollar count and patted his head tenderly.
He might be fucked and sad, but there was no way he would let the kid became a friend to him in that field.
Luna was seated down to have dinner with the Weasleys while his dad came back with his brother. In reality, Draco was his cousin, but she never felt like he was just a cousin. She felt deeper for him. Maybe because Draco was never bad with her, he never mocked her ideas or her crazy ideas of believing in creatures that no one else could see, but her.
"You are special, Luna," he told her once. "And so am I. People tend to hate what they don't understand. They don't understand you or me, so they are bound to hate us."
"Do you want pie, Luna?" Ginny asked her softly. "Or maybe, treacle tart?"
Yeah, Ginny was always polite and nice to her and Luna appreciated her a lot for that. Ginny was fiery and outspoken, but she never made Luna feel bad or like a lunatic, just like Hermione was going to call her earlier. Not that she blamed Hermione. Hermione was like a record that seemed to repeat everything she ever read in her life. It might take her a bit of time to make sense of the amount of knowledge she gained daily.
So, Luna didn't take it personally. She knew people called her that name, just not behind her back but in front of her face too.
"Luna?" Ginny said, waving a hand in front of her eyes.
"Sorry," she stated softly. "The wrackspurts are doing a number in my head."
Ginny smiled and kissed her cheek.
"Tell them to take a rest, it's time for dinner," she stated softly for Luna. "And mamma will have a field day if you don't eat much or too slowly..."
"Or too fast," George put in his five cents.
"Or if you eat just meat but no vegetables," Fred continued.
"Or if you eat too many vegetables but no meat," Ron chimed in too.
"Oh, hush," she said, putting more food on the table. "I hope you like your food, Luna. Your father told me you are a great fan of mashed potatoes, so I made a bowl of those with salty gravy."
"I am. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," she nodded softly.
Luna looked down at her pendant.
"That one is very pretty," Tonks said. "Was it a gift?" She asked, face morphing into a duck beak.
"Stop at once Nymphadora!" Moody said, scaring half of the table. "You are so childish."
Her hair turned an angry pink.
"Don't call me Nymphadora, ever again," and then, her face was morphing again. But Moody left her alone. "So was it a gift? Maybe from a cute boy? Or a pretty girl?"
Luna smiled and nodded fervently.
"From my brother," she stated. And held the small pendant between her fingers. "This has the voice of my brother inside," she said. "If I shake it..."
"Oh, I want to see," Tonks said. "Looks like a fine piece of charm."
Luna smiled and took the small vial from her necklace to shake it. The white liquid changed into a blue one. The soft sound of a male voice filling the silence while the bubbles danced inside the small vial.
Luna saw the exact moment where her brother's voice took all the attention of the people in the dining room. It was strange, because she had never seen Harry's form shining that way, like if he was a star barely born.
Shining so intensely.
It wasn’t his body or his form, though. It was his magic. His magic was leaking and trying to latch into the other magical source that was the fountain of the sound. That was so weird. She has never read anything like that.
Magic needed to be strong to be felt or seen. Harry was a great wizard, Luna knew. He was like... an ocean of magic. Somewhere where magic seemed to run freely, through his veins, gathering in his chest, maybe.
Her charm sang again, thrice the same line. It has never done that before. Still, she heard her brother's voice again and she put Harry at the back of her head. Maybe later.
Research.
Om du såg mig här i dag
Såg hur längtan gör mig svag
Och de minnen som finns kvar inom mig
She felt her eyes blurring with tears. The charm was given to her last year, when his father traveled to see Draco for the last time. She was required to stay at the Castle. She did, even when the only thing she wanted was to be snuggled into Draco's arms while he sang to her.
Childish wish, maybe, but Draco was her first and her best friend.
And she was losing him to an unknown thing still.
"What does it say?" Ron asked, but Mr. Weasley was the one translating.
"If you saw me here today... Saw how longing makes me weak and the memories that remain inside me." He said softly. "My family wasn't always British."
Luna saw Ron blushing.
"Yes, Ronald," Percy started. "They weren't. Things you would know if you have ever deigned to open the Family Tree book."
"Hello, love," Molly kissed her son and piled his plate with food. "Good day?"
Percy nodded and tucked into his food.
"Thanks, mom." It was small and curt and stiff.
It was so Percy-like.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, not really knowing if he would like the answer. "I mean, the song. What does it mean?"
In his books, ill wizards tend to wither and never speak again. Never fit for visitors or talks. Just like Remus when his illness strikes in the full moon: unable to speak, to follow, to understand. Maybe he was projecting what he knew about Neville's parents. Neville could still visit them, but they were... Unresponsive, so much like Harry's parents themselves. Remus' condition.
Maybe, he really was projecting.
Luna looked down at the pendant and the clear liquid that was resting unsuspiciously over her cleavage.
"It means that her brother misses her, Harry," Hermione stated. "Isn't it?" Hermione said, looking up at Luna.
"He was sick when he left," she stated. "I wanted to go with him." She declared softly and had Ginny's hand squeezing hers in a heartbeat. "Dad said I couldn't, because he was really sick and needed help. A lot of help and playing wasn't any more in his priorities, just getting better. Last year, not even studying was in his priorities at all. He stopped going to school at age 12, when he was too sick to attend." She took a deep breath. "He was too tired to even a floo call. Last year he gave this to dad, so I will remember his voice."
Molly hugged Luna in a maternal embrace.
"He is better now, right?" she asked. "That's why he is coming back to you, right?"
Luna accepted the hug and then, she shrugged.
She wasn't sure if Draco was all healed now, she doubted it. Her mother-Cissa said there was no cure for Draco's illness. That his only route was seeing his curse as a treasure and being grateful for it.
But Luna... Luna remembered the man taking Draco's blood. She remembered him sleeping a lot even when they were little. She remembered him crying because a few bones were hurting him during summer. She remembered him crying because his blood was on fire.
With time, and while knowing Muggles, Luna was sure Draco could just have one of two illnesses, leukemia or he was a cursed child. And none of those were a good thing.
She looked down and started to eat.
Maybe, there was hope for the war and all of them if her brother was coming back.
She decided to believe it all would be okay eventually.