Chapter 3
"Hypothetically speaking, if Hermione manages to get James out of the portrait, what are we going to do with him?"
The grandeur of the dining room cast a warm glow upon the polished mahogany table, adorned with fine china and silverware. Candles flickered in their holders, creating dancing shadows that added an air of intimacy to the room. Remus, Sirius, and Harry sat around the table, engaged in a conversation about the upcoming school year.
Sirius, his fingers delicately caressing a crystal goblet filled with a rich red wine, reclined with a casual air. His dark, mischievous eyes gleamed with an impish light. "He has Potter Manor at his disposal. He can use it," he proposed nonchalantly, the flickering candlelight dancing in the depths of his gaze.
"Technically, the manor is Harry's.” Remus countered with a measured tone, “ Besides, Prongs is twenty-one, not thirty-six. Plus, he’s technically supposed to be dead to the world. We can't have him wandering around Diagon Alley at his leisure."
"We can say that he is my cousin. We look almost identical; no one would suspect. Plus, he could come to Hogwarts with me and Mione." Harry chimed in, clearly excited at the prospect of having his father around
A burst of laughter erupted from Sirius, the rich timbre echoing in the grandeur of the room. "Prongs is definitely not going back to school. He's to fucking lazy for that. At least that's how it was until he fell in love with your mother and spent hours and hours in the library."
"I wasn't lazy," James' voice interrupted from the portrait, prompting everyone's attention. "I just preferred to be doing other things."
"Other things, like chasing Lily or playing pranks on the rest of the school?" Remus raised an eyebrow at the portrait, eliciting a mischievous smile.
The portrait stuck out its tongue at his best friend and directed an affectionate smile at his son. "Don't let these two idiots lie to you, son. They're jealous because I got to marry the most amazing girl in all of Hogwarts."
"I resent that comment," Sirius retorted, narrowing his eyes at his best friend. "I married Moony."
"Nah, wrong on both counts," Remus interjected with a sly grin. "Mia and I married you two for your money and status. We saw two idiotic purebloods the first day and thought, 'Shit, this is convenient,' and the plan worked." he raised his hand, as if waiting for a high-five, but it hung awkwardly in the air.
The room embraced a poignant hush as Sirius crossed the space to envelop his husband in a comforting hug, while Harry and James observed in respectful silence.
"It's... It's normal to miss her, Moons," Black empathized, offering solace to his tearful husband.
"It's hard to see her and see that she doesn't remember anything, any of us," Remus confessed tearfully. "She was… she's my best friend. I miss her, Pads."
"If Mione can get Dad out of the portrait, is there a way for her to recover her memories with you?" Harry asked, his eyes reflecting a profound sadness.
"It's not that easy. We don't know what your mother did — we don't know what happened when she time-traveled. Maybe she blocked her memories of her previous life, or the time travel erased them. We don't know. I'm sorry, Harry," Sirius apologized to his godson, his hand gently stroking his husband's hair in a soothing gesture.
"And that's why lads, I need to get out of this portrait. I need to get out to make my wife fall in love again and make her remember that the only man she's going to need in her life is me," James redirected the conversation as he paced the painted room frustratedly. "Actually, Hogwarts seems like a good idea to me."
"What you don't want is Kitten hooking up with another boy or girl other than you," Sirius taunted, making the Gryffindor angry. "You have to let her explore her sexuality.
"Oh right, exactly like she did with you?" James snapped sarcastically, while Harry had a pale face listening to the revelations unfolding.
"I didn't need to know that." He groaned quietly in horror, "Someone kill me."
"Moony kissed her too, it's time you get over it, Prongs," The portrait denied,clearly offended, "I was fifteen, so was she. We had been drinking, she was hot. I was hot. End of story."
"I kissed her while playing spin the bottle; it doesn't even count as a kiss," Remus argued, attempting to defend his actions. "And that wasn't even her first kiss."
"WHAT?" James cried out. "She swore to me that you had been."
"Her first kiss was Regulus," the werewolf revealed, sparking horrified screams from the two adults in the dining room.
"MY BROTHER? MY FUCKING BROTHER. WHY DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THAT?"
"REGULUS BLACK WAS HER FIRST KISS? OUT OF THE WHOLE HOGWARTS POPULATION, HER FIRST KISS WAS WITH A SLYTHERIN?"
"Shit," Remus cursed, witnessing the chaos he had unleashed.
"I need to get out of this portrait right now," Potter seemed ready to shake the painted frame. "Who knows who my wife might be with now?"
"SHUT UP ALL OF YOU," Harry shouted, his eyes clearly horrified at the overwhelming influx of unnecessary information about his mother's past. "I know I said I wanted to know about my mother, but not this way," a shiver ran down his spine. "I didn't need to know that her first kiss was with Sirius's brother. I didn't need to know that she also kissed Uncle Moony, and I definitely didn't need to know that she slept with Uncle Pads. Now I can't unsee it."
Suddenly, the three adults burst into laughter. "Those were different times, Harry," Remus laughed. "But your mother was definitely one of a kind. She kept the three of us on our toes, and she was the one your father and your godfather ever listened to."
The bedroom, adorned with bookshelves and parchment strewn across a desk, bore the unmistakable aura of Hermione Granger's diligent study space. Harry, feigning nonchalance, swung open the door without the courtesy of a knock. "Mione," he began, his eyes scanning the room, "have you figured out how to get my father out of the portrait yet?"
The sudden intrusion elicited a startled shriek from the girl, her voice slightly high-pitched as she surfaced from beneath the sheets, her hair in disarray. "OH MY GOD, HARRY. DON'T YOU FUCKING KNOW HOW TO KNOCK OR WHAT?" she scolded, her annoyance palpable.
"Mione, we have seen each other in much worse situations; nothing you do can surprise me," Harry chuckled, allowing himself to fall onto the bed with a carefree demeanor.
"Buon giorno, Potter," a low hoarse voice greeted, causing the Gryffindor to leap out of bed in fright. Harry turned, and next to his best friend was a shirtless Theodore Nott, a black-haired boy with dead blue eyes. A Slytherin he swore he had seen on the snakes' Quidditch team, and to top it all off, a friend of Malfoy.
"Please don't let it be true," Harry prayed with his eyes closed from his place on the floor, "Please, please, Merlin, I'm begging you."
"Harry, stop being a drama queen," Hermione chided, standing up. Before Harry could comprehend what was happening, she planted a short kiss on the Slytherin’s lips. "See you tomorrow?"
Nott nodded, collected his belongings, strode over to a discarded broom, and gracefully flew out of the bedroom window.
"You’re dating Nott?" Her best friend's voice cracked, a mix of horror and disbelief etched on his face, "He's a Slythe—not important right now. How come you haven't told me?"
"This is precisely why," she said, straightening her tie with an air of calmness, "And for your information, we're not dating. He's helping me figure out how to get your father out of the portrait. Don't even think about telling Ron."
"I'm not going to tell Ron," Harry protested, offended by the accusation. Hermione turned to look at him with an 'are you kidding me?' face, prompting a reluctant confession. "Okay, maybe I do tell him everything, but I won't tell him who you're dating. Plus, I didn't know this investigation involved getting naked."
"Oh my god, Harry, it's nothing serious. Teddy and I—" she huffed exasperatedly as they descended the stairs.
"TEDDY?" the dark-haired teenager screeched.
"Will you let me finish talking?" Hermione demanded, her patience wearing thin. Harry nodded meekly, afraid his best friend would resort to more drastic measures. "It's nothing serious. Friends with benefits, you know? I'm kind of digging that bad boy vibe."
"He's a Slytherin," Harry whispered-yelled as they walked out of the Fat Lady's portrait, "he's Malfoy's best friend."
The corridor outside was dimly lit, casting long shadows along the stone walls. Harry trailed behind Hermione, who seemed completely unperturbed by the bombshell she had just dropped.
"Friends with benefits? Seriously, Mione?" Harry couldn't hide the disbelief in his voice.
"Oh, don't act all innocent, Harry. I'm sure you've had your fair share of romantic escapades," she retorted with a smirk.
"Well, yeah, but not with a Slytherin!" Harry protested.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, it's just a bit of fun.”
"Merlin, help me," Harry sighed, looking up as they walked through the dimly lit corridor. "Leaving aside the traumatic event I just witnessed, how is the investigation going? Leave out the disgusting details."
"I think we already have it," Hermione smiled softly, her eyes reflecting a mix of determination and caution. The rhythmic tap of their footsteps echoed in the vastness, creating an almost meditative ambiance. "We'll try it out on Christmas, but I wanted to tell you that I don't know if it will work. I don't want to create any expectations."
"You're the brightest witch of our age, Mione. I trust you," he reassured.As he threw his arms over her shoulders, the echoes of their laughter reverberated through the corridor—a fleeting moment of lightness in the face of impending uncertainties.
The corridor stretched ahead of them, the enchanted torches casting a warm glow on the stone walls. They walked side by side, navigating the twists and turns of Hogwarts, the castle that held so many memories for both of them.
Hermione glanced at Harry, a glint of gratitude in her eyes. "Your trust means a lot, you know?"
He grinned, the weight of the world momentarily lifted. "What are best friends for, right?"
As they neared the Great Hall, the animated voices reached their ears. Laughter and chatter spilled out, creating an inviting atmosphere that beckoned them to join in.
Ron, seated and biting a chicken thigh, looked up as his two best friends took a seat. "Took you long enough. What were you two up to?"
Hermione shot a quick, knowing glance at Harry, who simply shrugged. "Just some investigative work, Ron. Nothing you need to worry about."
Ginny, seated next to her brother, rolled her eyes. "Investigative work, my ass. You're keeping secrets again, both of you."
Harry, feeling the need to lighten the mood, chimed in with a mischievous grin, "Oh, Ginny, my love, I was just preventing Mione from the venom that studying represents. Deadly as a snake’s bite if you must know," making the aforementioned shoot him a playful glare.
The room exuded warmth, furnished with plush armchairs and adorned with warm-toned tapestries. The soft crackling of a fireplace added to the tranquil ambiance as Harry, visibly agitated, poured out his frustrations to his uncle, who sat serenely sipping his tea.
"I desperately need the spell or whatever to work," the teenager whined, his frustration evident in his voice as he slumped into an armchair.
Remus regarded his nephew carefully, a knowing glint in his eyes. The resemblance between Harry and his father, James, was uncanny.
"I thought that was already solved," Remus remarked, swirling the tea in his cup. He could sense the complexity of emotions swirling within Harry, reminiscent of the passionate nature that defined the Potters.
"She's dating a Slytherin, Uncle Moony. A fucking Slytherin," Harry's words reverberated with frustration, each syllable laden with exasperation. His expressive gestures punctuated the intensity of his emotions. "I don't want my stepfather to be a Slytherin, and even less so, Malfoy's best friend."
Remus couldn't help but chuckle, the rich sound blending with the ambient crackling of the fire. His eyes, reflecting a mixture of mischief and understanding, met Harry's. "Your father is going to totally blow a gasket if he finds out," he commented, envisioning the animated reactions of James Potter, confined to the painted confines of his portrait. "Your father has never been one to share."
"They're not even dating as such; Hermione swears it's something casual, no strings attached," The Gryffindor continued, frustration evident in each word. Rising from his seat, he started pacing back and forth, an embodiment of restless energy.
"You Potter men have always been the jealous type," Remus mused knowingly, his gaze following Harry's movements. "Especially with the women of the family."
"I love Hermione; she's my best friend. She's my mother. It's impossible not to love her, but right now, I feel like strangling her," Harry admitted, his emotions teetering on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "I need to get Dad out of the portrait so he can win her over and for her to cut off her relationship with Nott."
"She said she's digging the bad boy vibe, right?" Remus's laughter carried a hint of nostalgia, a reminiscence of youthful exuberance. Harry let out an almost audible groan, his shoulders slumping further as he sank once again into the embrace of the armchair.
"I'll take that as a yes. She said the same thing when she kissed Regulus," he continued, his tone tinged with a knowing amusement.
"Don't wanna have Nott in the family, Uncle Moony. He's coming over for Christmas Eve,"
The werewolf leaned forward, his eyes locked onto his nephew’s with a blend of affectionate teasing and understanding. "Your father had a knack for getting jealous too, you know," he remarked, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. "He nearly killed Pads when he found out two years later that he had hooked up with your mother."
"But it's different, Uncle Moony. Hermione is my mother, and Nott is...he's Slytherin," The boy protested, a note of exasperation in his voice.
"Your father would've said the exact same thing back in the day. Slytherins, bad boys—always a cause for concern." Remus chuckled, savoring the familiarity of the situation, the room filled with the echoes of history.
"Regulus was a one time thing, but Nott? It’s been a multiple time thing,"
"Harry, love, Hermione is a smart woman. She knows what she's doing. Besides, she has a plan to help your father, doesn't she?"
Harry sighed, his gaze fixed on the crackling flames that mirrored the flicker of uncertainty in his thoughts. "Yeah, but what if it doesn't work? What if she gets too caught up with Nott, and Dad remains stuck in the portrait?"
"Trust her. She loves your father. She might not know just yet but she does, just as he loves her. And as for Nott, well, it's not easy being a Slytherin, but it doesn't mean he's a bad person. Give him a chance. You trust her judgment, right?"
"But what if he hurts her, Uncle Moony? I can't bear to see her hurt," The teenager confessed, a flicker of genuine concern in his eyes.
"Harry, she's going to be okay. And if not, we can always kick Nott's ass. Your Uncle Pads will definitely be on board if that happens."
The atmosphere in Grimmauld Place was charged with anticipation on that Christmas Eve. The room was adorned with festive decorations, but the tension between the occupants was palpable. Remus sat on a worn-out couch, a small smile playing on his lips as he observed the unfolding scene. Hermione, clad in festive attire, stood beside the large portrait, her wand at the ready. On the opposite side of the room, Sirius and Harry exchanged wary glances, both wearing expressions that spoke of discomfort.
Theo stood close to the brunette, a playful smirk on his face. He winked at her, eliciting an eye roll from the witch. Harry and Sirius, however, were less amused, their glares directed at the Slytherin.
"I'm ready when you are, Princess," Theo teased, casting a sidelong glance at the girl. She shot him a look of exasperation.
"Oi, get a room you two," Harry interjected, breaking the tension with a laugh. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he enjoyed the discomfort on his father's face. James, trapped in his portrait, scowled at the banter.
"Can you hurry up? I'm hungry," he hissed impatiently.
Hermione exchanged a nod with Theo, and together they raised their wands, the room falling silent as they uttered the incantation. "Magus Exsilium Tabulae."
The air crackled with magic, and a warm glow enveloped the room as the spell took effect. The portrait, suspended in midair, tumbled to the ground with a resounding thud. Suddenly, a burst of energy and a swirl of golden light heralded the arrival of James Potter, who emerged from the portrait with unrivaled exuberance. The dusty veil settled on the floor as the newly free wizard surveyed the room, his hazel eyes alight with mischief.
"Missed me?" he declared, his voice full of life and infectious energy.
Sirius was the first to break into a wide grin, crossing the room to slap his best friend heartily on the back. "Got your wand, Prongs?" he teased, a playful glint in his dark eyes.
James chuckled, giving Sirius a mock offended look. "Of course, Pads. Not making the same mistake twice"
Remus pulled James into a tight embrace, his eyes betraying a hint of moisture. "It's good to have you back, James," he said warmly.
"Missed you too, Moony. Did you finally start liking coffee?"
Remus laughed, shaking his head. "Some things never change."
Amidst the banter and laughter, James' attention shifted to his son. His hazel eyes softened with an emotion that only a father could understand.
"Harry," he began, his voice catching ever so slightly. He took a step closer to his son, a proud smile playing on his lips. "You've grown so much."
Harry, who had been observing the reunion with a mixture of amusement and affection, met his father's gaze. There was a lump in his throat as he took in the sight of the man he had heard so much about but had never truly known standing before him.
"You have no idea, Dad," Harry replied, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "So much has happened."
James ruffled Harry's hair, a gesture that seemed to bridge the gap of the years they had spent apart. "You've made me proud, Harry. And not just for what you've accomplished, but for the person you've become."
Harry couldn't hold back the tears any longer. He embraced his father, the weight of years of longing and uncertainty melting away in that one heartfelt hug. As they separated, James wiped away a tear from his eye, a grin returning to his face. "Now, let's not get too sentimental. We've got Christmas to celebrate, and I've got a lot of catching up to do."
"Miss Granger," he then greeted with a cheeky grin, "looking so fucking pretty today."With a flourish, James extended his arm and took her by the hand, pulling her into an impromptu twirl.
Hermione's cheeks flushed a shade of pink, and she tried to hide her smile. "Why, thank you, Mr. Potter. You don't look too bad yourself."
"They haven't changed at all," Sirius whispered to his husband, watching the interaction, "I bet 50 galleons that before summer they'll be a couple again."
"I'll bet 50 galleons that he kisses her first but she confesses first," Remus replied, taking out the money, "We've made this bet before, Pads, and you lost."
"Fuck you both. I'm betting 80 galleons that Hermione kisses him first and confesses first," Harry whispered with a knowing smirk watching his parents flirt. "You know your Hermione, I know mine."
The oblivious couple, lost in their own world, continued to exchange glances that spoke volumes. James, still holding Hermione close, couldn't help but admire the twinkle in her eyes.
"A little birdy told me that you wanted to ride my broom, Granger." James flirted, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as they locked onto his wife, his eyes appreciating the dress she wore.
Hermione's response was equally teasing. "Are you sure you can handle me, Potter?"
"I can handle you any day, every day," he quipped, his voice a low murmur. Hermione, caught off guard by the audacity of his remark, felt the heat rising to her cheeks.
"You're incorrigible, Potter," she replied, her tone a playful mix of exasperation and amusement. “I’m not so sure if you’ve what it takes to handle me.”
James leaned in, his breath brushing against her ear as he whispered, "Challenge accepted, Angel."