Rule #13

“Harry. Harry?”

“Wh—afnsfdmmmm.” Mirages of wands and hippogriffs dissolve as Harry stirs. He hears a soft snore, the pressure of a cool palm tickling his arm.

“Come on, Harry, wake up.”

At the sound of Draco’s bored but secretly amused voice, Harry blinks one (1!) eye open. “Whaaaisit?”

“It’s your birthday.”

Harry rolls over to face Draco kneeling on the side of the bed. The rest of the cabin is still fast asleep, though Regulus’ bed is empty, and Harry hums at the thought of his counselor with James. Regulus has been so so so happy lately, so much so that during their cabin excursion to the beach on Sunday, Harry thought Regulus might explode from joy! Like the star he was named for!

“Harry,” Draco hisses when he closes his eyes again. 

“Whattttt? I’m sleepy. Wanna cuddle?” Harry scoots back so Draco will have space on his bunk to do just that. When Harry was in Gryffindor, he and Ron cuddled alllll the time, but by Draco’s disgusted snort, Harry guesses Draco isn’t interested. 

“I have a present for you.”

That gets Harry’s attention. He sits up slowly forcing his eyes, both of them, o p e n. “Why?”

“It’s your birthday, obviously I have a present for you.”

Harry tilts his head, taking in the small wrapped package in Draco’s hands. Only his mom had ever given him birthday presents, passing it to him after she sang Happy Birthday at bedtime. Our little secret, his mom would say. Daddy doesn’t need to know. 

A blast of cold rushes through Harry as if he cannonballed into the Black Lake. Today is his birthday and he won’t see his mom at all. Not even for a second! Does his mom miss him? Would his mom still have a gift for him when he returns home next week? Will she be mad like Harry’s dad, or might she forgive him?

“What is it?” Draco blurts. “What did I do wrong?”

Harry turns from Draco’s expression and looks at Hermione’s sleeping face. She’s like Snow White, cursed to eternal slumber by a wicked witch. Only she doesn’t need Prince Charming to wake up—Hermione is beyond smart, she’ll figure it out herself.

“Harry?” Draco repeats. 

“Oh, no, you didn’t do anything wrong, of course not. I’m happy! Or, well, I guess I just miss my mom.” Harry tells Draco. “She’s probably really worried about me.”

“If she’s smart enough, she’ll have worked out why you ran away,” Draco says with a sniff. He doesn’t like Harry’s family, thinks they’re mean and Harry deserves better. 

But Harry loves his mom—he even loves his brother, despite the fact that their dad loves him more. It’s not Dudley’s fault he’s easier to love. It’s Harry’s fault, really.

“Hey, you’re not supposed to frown on your birthday,” Draco snaps.

“Don’t worry. I always cry on my birthday,” Harry pats Draco comfortingly, but his words only seem to make him more upset.

“Here, just open this.”

“Whatever you say, Draco dramatic pause Malfoy.” 

Draco’s lips twitch up and Harry suddenly feels aMaZInG, he feels the brightness of twelve fall over him like a cloak—-he’s twelve! He’s twelve years old and he has friends. A best friend. 

Harry rips open the package to find a green and red friendship bracelet with a golden bead in the center. Draco holds up his wrist to show a matching bracelet which makes Harry want to jump on his bed and singgggg. He doesn’t though, cause he knows how much Pansy needs her beauty sleep. 

“But you said friendship bracelets were ‘de-class-é’,” Harry enunciates every syllable. 

“I’ve made an exception, evidently.”

Harry beams. “That’s nice.”

“Yes, this is a rarity. Do enjoy it.”

“I am!”

Neither of them bother to go back to sleep after that, and at Harry’s insistence, they climb up to the top of the cabin where they had built a slide with Peter the week before for an epic Cabin Adventure. 

With Regulus’ encouragement, Harry had even managed to talk to Peter, and Wormtail was not only realllyyy nice but even cooler than Harry imagined! He was so cool, in fact, that he taught Harry his new favorite Activity: Outdoor Living Skills. 

It had been Ron’s suggestion to take it, something he and Harry could do just the two of them, which was, in Hermione’s words, “a nice olive branch” after all the DrAmA following the sorting hat ceremony. 

And so, Peter taught Harry and Ron to tie fancy knots! To read a compass! To make a fire! If that Zombie revolution Luna always says is on its way happens, Harry will be able to take his friends into the wilderness and hide from the brain eaters forever. 

On the top of the cabin’s roof, between the two railings of the slide painted in green, Harry and Draco whisper about all that’s to come when the summer ends. 

“I can’t believe that we’ll have to say goodbye to everyone.” Harry sighs. He lists them all off like his mom made him do the months when he was little: “Neville and Ron and Luna and Sirius and James and Lily and Pansy and Theo and Blaise and Millie and Mary and Dorcas and Marlene and Regulus—”

Draco’s laugh cuts Harry off. It’s not his small, amused one, but a little bit more dark, like a cartoon villain. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing,” Draco shrugs, looking at the rising sun over the Wayward Woods. 

“Come on, it's my birthday you have to tell me EVERYTHING,” Harry stresses.

When Draco looks back at Harry, his gray eyes are sad. “I don’t have to say goodbye to Sirius and Regulus, much to my eternal disappointment.”

“What—why?”

“Cause we’re family now, apparently.”

Harry nearly tumbles off the roof but Draco quickly reaches out to steady him, as if he had expected that reaction.

“I know, it’s horrible,” Draco huffs like a grumpy dragon. “But the truth is Sirius and Regulus are cousins of my mom, and as per her last letter, we are now including them in our new life. They’re coming for dinner the week after camp ends.”

Harry squeezes his eyes open and shut open and shut to make sure he’s not having a really real daydream. “That—that’s amazing!”

Draco gives Harry one of his unimpressed looks. 

“I wish I was related to Sirius and Regulus!” Harry whisper-screams. “It makes so much sense that you do though because you’re amazing and they’re amazing so it really has to be genetic—”

“You’re amazing too, Harry. Genetics have nothing to do with this. In fact, despite our shared DNA, I’ve proven to be superior to Sirius and Regulus in every facet.” Draco twists his friendship bracelet with a scowl. “Being related is one thing, but now I have to tolerate their present in my own home.”

“You don’t—I don’t understand, why don’t you like them?”

“They left my mom with the vultures.”

“What vultures?!” 

“My family.”

“Oh.” Harry sits back, something cracking and crumbling inside him. Regulus and Sirius haven’t been anything but totally kind and awesome, the kind of people that Harry so badly wants to be when he grows up. Surely they aren’t as bad as Draco thinks?

“You know, I left my family too,” Harry points out. 

“That’s different.”

Harry shifts his weight. “Uhm, how is it different?”

“Your family is horrible to you and—and you deserve better,” Draco says shortly. 

“But you said your family is horrible so why wouldn’t Sirius and Regulus deserve better?”

“It’s different,” Draco repeats. 

Harry doesn’t like disagreeing with Draco, arguing with Draco, making Draco any sort of unhappy, so he lets the conversation fly away like a butterfly. They’re in the midst of discussing which of the counselors would survive Luna’s Zombie apocalypse when two voices emerge below them.

“I still can’t believe you did this. How did you do this?!” the first voice whispers. 

It’s Lily, Firefly!, Harry recognizes. He shoots up to say hello but Draco shakes his head firmly. Right. They’re not supposed to be awake right now, much less on the roof without supervision. 

“The details aren’t important,” the other voice, Regulus, answers. “What matters is that Hogwarts is yours, Lily.”

“I—” she sniffles and Harry bites back the urge to peek over the roof cause it sounds like she’s crying. Why is she crying?

“I’m overwhelmed, I think,” Lily finally says.

“I’m sorry, I thought it would be good news for today. Should I have waited to tell you?”

“‘Course not. It is good news.” There’s a long pause. “I’m really the Camp Director?”

Harry sucks in a breath. “Camp Director?” he mouths to Draco. What about Dumbledore? Lily would be the best at directing the camp, Harry knows that with 1000000% certainty, but is Dumbledore truly retiring? And why is Regulus telling Lily the news?

“Yes, you are,” Regulus’ voice sounds light. 

“I have to tell Mary,” Lily says with a giggle. “I don’t think I can do this without her.”

Regulus hums, “I thought you might say that.”

“But first, let’s wake up your cabin. I have a feeling that Hermione will especially like this Rooster Call.”

Draco and Harry share a panicked look and scramble down the ladder that is, luckily, on the opposite side of Lily and Regulus. They only just manage to slip through the door and into their beds before Lily and Regulus walk in, dressed like ancient scholars with long black hooded robes, holding quills and parchment. 

“We come from the planet Venus and we are here to investigate your earthlings,” Regulus announces. They walk around the cabin and study the campers, mumbling observations about how strange the little creatures are and what peculiar features they have. 

“This one has quite the emerald eyes,” Lily says to Harry in a thick British accent that makes her sound stuffy. “That must mean it eats green!” 

Harry giggles and across the cabin, Regulus nods in agreement before remarking on Pansy’s ten fingers. 

Lily continues to examine Harry, saying the silliest things about his nose and two legs. When all of them are awake enough to warrant the end of the Rooster Call, they file out of the cabin, Lily giving Harry one last wink. 

Harry smiles back. It’s not even breakfast and this is already his best! birthday! ever!

His smile stays on like superglue the rest of the morning, following him into the showers and down to the dining area for breakfast. He yawns a bunch, but he manages to crack his jaw wide like a basilisk while still smiling, twiddling with his matching friendship bracelet, and studying the careful knots that Draco made just for him—for him!

After his third yawn, Pansy sighs from across the table. “Stop yawning, your exhaustion is contagious.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles sheepishly. “Woke up supeeerrr early.”

“It was not that early,” Draco cuts in from next to Harry. 

Both Pansy and Hermione straighten. “You woke up early?” Hermione asks as Pansy says, “What were you doing without me?”

Pansy and Hermione share a long glare at each other, and Theo chokes on his orange juice, stifling a laugh.

“Don’t talk over me, Granger,” Pansy speaks through gritted teeth. 

“I wasn’t!” 

Before the two of them can get into yet another spat, Draco cuts in, “I woke Harry up because I had to be the first to wish him a Happy Birthday.”

Hermione instantly breaks her stare off and turns to Harry. “What—it’s your birthday?”

Harry opens his mouth to respond when Regulus slides into the spot between Pansy and Theo.

“So how did you like your Rooster Call—” Regulus stops when he notices Hermione’s open mouth. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s Harry’s birthday,” Theo informs him, a line of orange juice on his upper lip. 

Regulus snaps his head in Harry’s direction. 

“Yep!” Harry says. “Sorry I didn’t mention it, Draco only knows cause Luna figured out my star chart for me. Did you know I’m a Leo, Regulus, like your constellation, isn’t that so cool?”

“You were born on July 31, 2012?”

Harry looks to Draco, feeling unsettled by Regulus’ serious tone. “Yes?”

The next bit happens so quickly Harry’s thoughts can’t keep up with his vision like he’s a video game lagging thanks to Dudley hogging the wifi. Regulus calls Mary over to watch the cabin then guides Harry out of the dining area, and Draco tries to come with but Regulus is resolute, tense, and maybe even m a d. 

“Are you angry with me?” Harry whispers when they enter Lily’s office. 

Regulus sets down the walkie-talkie he used to call James and Lily. “No, Harry, I’m sorry if I made you think that. I just need you to be a little patient and then we’ll tell you what’s happening, alright? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Okay. I trust you.” 

Regulus doesn’t move for a moment and then the office door swings open. “Reg? What is it?” 

James’ face is swollen, with two dark circles under either eye, but he seems alert when his eyes flick from Harry to Regulus with concern. Harry wants to jump into Prongs’ arms for some reason, he feels something bad in his belly, and he doesn’t know what’s happening, but Regulus said to be patient. 

Harry can be patient. 

He doesn’t even have a chance to say hello before Regulus is asking Harry to stay seated, and he and James leave to speak outside. Eleven minutes and thirty-three seconds later, James and Lily walk into the office. Without Regulus. 

“Is—is everything okay? Where did Reggie go?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Lily rushes forward and kneels beside Harry. “I know this all must be scary, we just have to ask you a few questions to figure some things out. Is that alright?”

Harry looks at James across the room, his face even more puffy than before, eyes rimmed with red. “Is Prongs okay?”

“Yes, yeah—” James’ voice breaks and he comes over to Harry. “I’m alright, buddy, I think. Well, I think I’ve just gotten some really good news and I’m trying to process it. These are happy tears.”

Harry nods like he understands but he really doesn’t, he’s really really confused. 

“Do you know what hospital you were born in, Harry?” Lily asks. 

“No, Mom said that she had Dudley at home though. That’s my brother.”

Lily nods, her eyes darting from Harry to James. “Did either of your parents talk to you about how you were born?”

“You mean…the penis and vagina talk?” Harry asks. “No, you gave that to me, remember?”

Lily smiles. “Right, of course, I mean more of if you’re their biological child. Or maybe you were adopted?”

“Adopted? I don’t think so. No, my dad wouldn’t have wanted to adopt me.”

Neither Lily nor James responds then and Harry can’t help but feel like he’s failed a test, and soon he’ll receive a big fat F in his mom’s handwriting. 

“Harry, buddy, did your mom ever talk about having any siblings?” James crouches down beside Lily. “A sister, maybe?”

“Yeah she has a sister but all she says is that she lives in some place called Hell. I don’t know where that is though and I don’t think we can visit.”

When Lily flinches, Harry wants to crawl into a hole and hide forever. He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until James reaches out and cups his face. His palms are calloused and warm, softly tickling Harry’s cheeks as they wipe away his tears. 

“Harry, we want to help you,” James says in a soft voice. “We care about you so deeply, and we’re worried that your parents might be mistreating you. Would you be willing to tell us what’s going on at home?”

Harry watches Lily duck her head, swiping her face like she’s crying too. Because she is! No! “ I didn’t mean to make you cry, Firefly,” Harry stammers. “Can I fix it? How can I fix it?”

Lily sniffles and looks up at Harry with a trembling smile. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Harry. James is right, all we want is to help you, but in order to do that we have to know everything.”

“We’re on your side,” James echoes. 

Harry clutches Draco’s bracelet and tries not to cry again. He thinks of his father’s shouts and empty bottles and his mom’s tear-stained face, and he can see her in Lily now, they seem almost like the same person. “I don’t—I’m not sure I should.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to you, Harry. We’re going to protect you no matter what.” James holds out his pinky and Harry takes it on instinct. 

Then the promise is made, and Harry likes to keep his promises. He doesn’t want to let James or Lily down. 

“Okay. I’ll tell you.” Harry swallows. “But not without Draco.”

******

It’s only thanks to his best friend that Harry manages to say anything at all. Draco is like a solid rock in an ocean of sharks, holding Harry steady while he tells them e v e r y t h i n g: his homeschooling, his grandparents, his chores, his punishments, his quiet time, his mom, his brother, and above all, his dad. 

“I don’t think he was always so mad,” Harry says. “But I think as I got bigger, my dad’s anger did too.”

He looks around at all the watching adults—James and Lily just across, Regulus in the corner writing on a notepad, and Sirius standing next to Draco, eyes crinkled in thought. They moved to the Lodge because not everyone could fit in Lily’s office. When Harry asked why so many people were here, James said that a lot of people cared about him. 

Harry isn’t sure he believes that deep deeeep down. It feels too good to be true. 

He does believe Draco cares though. 

“What exactly will you be doing with this information?” Draco asks when Harry’s throat gets stiff and sore and he can’t say anymore.

Lily answers immediately, “It all depends on your safety, Harry, and it sounds like your home is not a safe environment for you.”

“I—-uhm, I don’t think I’d like to go back. I would like to live with Draco, actually.”

Draco nods in agreement. “If you’ll allow me to call my mother I’m certain she would—”

“Draco, it doesn’t work like that. Harry will either be sent into the foster system or to a relative.”

Regulus’ words make Harry shiver. “The foster system?”

“That won’t be happening,” Sirius says to Harry. “I’ll kidnap you before I let them put you there.”

Lily and Regulus both send a scolding look Sirius’ way but Harry sighs in relief. “Thanks, Padfoot. I think I’d like to be kidnapped by you.”

Sirius’ answering smile makes Harry feel a little less heavy. 

“Tell me the four of you have an actual plan,” Draco drawls in his no-nonsense voice, and Harry’s so glad that he’s here, so glad that he can ask all the things Harry wants to know. 

“We think it makes the most sense for you to stay with a relative,” James says, his hand in Lily’s. 

“I already told you, my grandparents are dead.”

Lily flinches again but before Harry can apologize, she clears her throat. “Harry, you do have a living relative who will become your guardian, if you want that, of course.”

“Who?”

It’s Lily’s smile, actually, that tells Harry who. Her pink lips that twist a little to the right, green eyes shining with something akin to glitter. “Me.”

“Are you serious?!” Draco grits out. “How many relatives are in this camp? This is a lawsuit waiting to happen, I cannot believe you kept this from Harry—”

“We only just figured it out,” Lily’s voice is calm where Draco’s is frantic. She sets her attention on Harry and explains, “I cut contact with my family many years ago, or well, they cut contact with me, but my sister is Petunia Evans, now Petunia Dursley.”

“My mom is your sister?”

Lily’s face falls a little at that. She looks at James with a pleading face. 

“I shouldn’t have to say this,” Draco begins in a threatening voice. “But from now on there will be no more lies. Harry deserves the entire truth.”

“Yes,” Harry echoes. “Please,” he says a little quieter. 

It’s James who gives him what he asked for: “Harry, Petunia is your adoptive mother. But Lily and I are your birth parents.”

“On this day, twelve years ago, I gave birth to you,” Lily finishes. 

The quiet then seems to fill Harry’s ears, flooding his brain with water. 

Sirius comes up behind Harry, squeezing his shoulders. “You were the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen, even prettier than Reggie.”

And Harry hears them, he hears all of their words, he knows what they’re saying, but he can’t bring his body to move or speak, he’s stuck in this foldable chair waiting, shaking, paralyzed like he is in his nightmares—is this a nightmare? No, it can’t be, this is nice, this is good, Lily and James are his parents. 

They’re his PARENTS! 

But what about his mom? What about Dudley? 

Harry feels his body start to shake and tremble and he hears more voices calling his name, Draco defending him with a quick “Give him a second, will you?” but Harry’s still stuck. He needs someone to u n s t u c k him. 

Then two brown eyes are level with him, warmth pressing into his kneecaps. “You remember what we do after nightmares?” 

Harry doesn’t respond to James, he can’t.

“Just breathe with me, blow a balloon, yeah?” James adds, “We’ll all do it together.”

The sounds of deep breaths fill the Lodge, even Draco’s quick inhale ringing in Harry’s ears, and he slowly sinks into the rhythm, the pushhhh and pullll of air down and up his throat. 

“There you go,” James says encouragingly. 

Harry breathes again and feels his body settle, the shaking giving way to something deflated like he’s a balloon popped. He tests his tongue in his mouth and takes another breath to say:

“You’re my dad?”

James dips his head, tears gliding across his cheek. “Yes.”

“And those are still happy tears?” Harry has to ask. 

“The happiest.” 

That urge from before to jump into James’ arms and never let go takes hold, and Harry’s twelve, he’s probably too old for things like that, but he can’t help but lean into Prongs. 

James tucks him into his chest and Harry’s there. He’s there. 

For the first time in his life, his dad is hugging him. 

******

Maybe Harry should have asked it first but he was too busy looking at James and Lily and chanting—my parents? my parents!—in his mind, or maybe he was too scared to ask, to burst the bubble of happiness rolling over the three of them, either way, it was Draco who eventually said:

“Why did you leave Harry?”

And so, just as Harry told them everything, Lily and James do the same. They talk about being in love at Hogwarts, about the Marauders and the family they found on these campgrounds every summer—they talk about Lily getting pregnant and her family kicking her out—they talk about how scared Lily and James were, how badly they wanted to be ready, but they weren’t—they talk about missing their baby for years, twelve years, and how they thought of him every day. 

“We thought you were with a family you loved,” Lily says. “I’m so so sorry, Harry. Either my mom or Petunia manipulated the adoption agency without telling us, and you ended up with that—that horrible man—”

When Lily’s voice cracks, James finishes for her, “We missed a lot of your life Harry, but if you’ll let us, we don’t want to miss another thing.”

“I would have to leave my mom?” Harry stumbles, “I mean Petunia.”

Lily speaks in a firm voice, “You can call Petunia mom—you—can call her whatever you want. But yes, if you let me take care of you, that would require leaving Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley.”

Draco nudges him. “That’s what you wanted.”

It’s what he already did, Harry knows what Draco is trying to say. He ran away, after all. 

But this sounds forever, and forever is a long time, and Harry misses his mom—he loves his mom.

“She’s your sister,” Harry whispers to Lily. “Will you please help her like you’re helping me?”

It’s a long shot, Harry already knows, and not because Lily won’t do it, but because his mom won’t let her. She’s steadfast and stubborn when it comes to Harry’s dad, or rather, Vernon, despite all the poison he spews.

It was why Harry ran away alone—his mom would never run away too. 

Lily seems to think the same: “I can try, Harry. But if Petunia doesn’t want to leave Vernon, I’m not sure how much I can do.”

“She’s your sister,” Draco repeats Harry’s words. “Trying isn’t sufficient.”

“Draco,” Sirius starts in a warning tone. 

“Would you give up on Regulus?” Draco shoots back. 

“That’s not a fair comparison,” Regulus says, dropping his notepad to walk over to Lily. He whispers something in her ear and Harry tries to listen really hard but he’s got no superpowers, so all he sees is Lily’s tight face nodding along. 

“Right.” Lily clears her throat. Regulus gives her a reassuring glance then steps over to stand beside James, Sirius doing the same for Lily.

Harry soaks up the sight of all four of them, a united front, the very people that Harry wants to be around forever, and now, maybe, just maybe, he’ll get to. 

Then all at once, Harry’s hope bursts. 

“We need to call your parents and the authorities now,” Lily says businesslike. 

“Wait!” Harry shouts. At the shock on all four of their faces, Harry scrambles to add: “Can we please wait until camp is over?”

At Lily’s silent surprise, Harry spins on his heel to Sirius. “It’s not like I would be in any danger, I’ll be here with you all and I—I please don’t take away my last days at Hogwarts.”

There’s truth to Harry’s words, but there’s also a lot of lies, because no, he doesn’t want to leave camp, but more importantly, he doesn’t want his parents to find him. He ran away. He forged his parents’ signatures and applied to the Hogwarts scholarship and probably broke a lot of rules and his parents are going to be so so so upset and Lily and James will be upset that he lied to them too and then all of the counselors are going to hate Harry, and well, so much for his new parents, he’ll be kicked out and shoved into the foster system and forgotten—

Draco’s hand in Harry’s quiets his roaring thoughts. He blinks and looks around, finding James and Regulus whispering back and forth, Lily and Sirius listening intently. 

Harry swallows and plays his final card, a trick he probably shouldn’t use, but does nonetheless: 

“It’s my birthday,” he tells them. “The first birthday I’ve had with you in a long while. So do this for me, please?”

From the corner of his eye, Harry sees Draco hide a smirk. 

“I guess we could wait until pick-up day…” Lily trails off. 

“Yes!” Harry jumps up, pulling Draco with him. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Maybe it’s Harry's enthusiasm, or maybe it’s Draco’s approving hum, but none of the adults do any take-backs and Harry’s shoulders slump with relief. For a few more days, he gets to enjoy camp, gets to be a runaway a little while longer. 

A few more days. 

It’s on the way out from the Lodge, when Lily and James hold Harry’s hands on either side, that Harry’s relief spirals into guilt. 

“Happy birthday, Harry. We love you.” James squeezes Harry’s hand.

“But you should know, we loved you before any of this,” Lily adds. “You’re easy to love, Harry.”

Harry smiles at them both, hoping that’s still the case come pick-up day when neither of his parents shows up. 

******

The last time Harry felt so guilty was in the hospital room with Dudley. They had been playing on a tree in the backyard when SNAP went a branch, and Dudley fell to the ground, cracking his arm in two. 

Their parents were so mad, but not at Dudley. Harry had been messing around. Harry had let Dudley fall. In fact, Harry had pushed him—or so Vernon claimed. 

And his mom didn’t contradict him, not in front of his face, at least. 

Harry had replayed the scene over and over in his mind like one of those old reruns his mom likes, trying to figure out if he really did push Dudley, if his brother was in so much pain because Harry had been careless, Harry had let him f a l l down down down. 

Soon enough, Harry started to believe his dad—-no, Vernon. Not his dad. James is his dad. Right?

Harry’s still not sure if Dudley’s broken arm was his fault or not, and the guilt still twists in his belly like a hurricane, the one from the Wizard of Oz that sweeps Dorothy into another land entirely. 

Harry feels that spin in his tummy every time he sees James and Lily throughout the rest of the week. He tries his hardest to enjoy his final days with his cabin, but the hurricane squeezes his laughter dry and keeps him wide awake with the stars. 

“You’re easy to love,” Lily had told him. 

The hurricane seems to gobble those words up, spitting out guilt and lies instead. Harry works hard not to let anyone notice, especially his new parents—his awesome, kind, funny parents—but he can’t keep it from Draco. 

No! His best friend somehow sees right through Harry, down to the wind, rain, and thunder. The lightning too.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Draco says their second to last night in the Slytherin bathrooms. “You had to run away from your dad.”

They’re supposed to be asleep, but like usual, they snuck out to talk, Harry taking his spot by the cubbies, and Draco on the counter with the line of sinks. 

Harry draws stars into the wood holding their toiletries, some of the small bags already packed for pick-up day. “I did do something wrong—I’ve been lying to everyone!” 

“It’s for their own good. If they knew they’d be forced to return you to your home even if it’s not what’s best for you because of legal constraints. All you’ve done is take the burden of complicity away.”

Harry frowns. “But you know.”

“Breaking the law is the least of my sins.”

Harry hates the storm clouds casting shadows across Draco, a forever sort of gloom that keeps Draco from seeing just how bright he really is. It’s not unlike Harry’s own hurricane, only less of a spiral and more of a downpour, slowly washing Draco out and away. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t see yourself the way that I do,” Harry groans. “You’re the most awesome person in the world!”

Draco shrugs elegantly like a prince. “I’m as clever as I am cavillous.”

“I don’t know what that word means, but you’re clever for sure, and so much more. You’re kind and thoughtful and loyal and talented and—”

“Harry, stop.”

“Why?”

“I believe I’ve misrepresented myself to you.” Draco crosses his legs at his ankles and turns his nose up.

“That’s not true! You apologized to Ron and Neville, and then you were so patient when I was trying to figure out the talent show, and you kept my secret about running away, and you helped me set up Jegulus and Wolfstar…”

“I didn’t,” Draco says in a low voice. “I had every intention of keeping Regulus and Sirius unhappy and single.”

At Harry’s confused expression, he continues, “I tried to manipulate all of it—the Shakespeare sonnet, the romantic songs, the kidnapping, even the photo. Why do you think I was so adamant that we show Remus it? I knew he would be upset by it. I expected he’d never forgive Sirius for lying to him.”

Harry’s mind whirls like a diabolo on a string and the first thing he can think to say is: “Well you were wrong, Remus has forgiven Sirius. They’ve been totally nice to each other all week.”

“Yes, I’m well aware that I failed in my sabotaging, on both accounts, but the point is I lied to you for my own selfish reasons. I lied, Harry.”

“That’s alright, Draco,” Harry says calmly. 

He doesn’t need to think about forgiving Draco, it’s as simple as seeing. Even if Harry’s vision is quite a bit blurry, which James swears a good pair of glasses can fix—he even booked an eye doctor's appointment for Harry!

“No, it’s not alright.” Draco throws his arms up. “I’m a horrible friend!”

“Nope,” Harry pops his p for emphasis. Really, half the reason he did all that matchmaking was for Draco to see that true love does exist. After his parents' divorce, who could blame Draco for second-guessing love? “It was my silly idea, after all. And you were just trying to protect your mom like you were trying to protect me when Ron and I were fighting. Maybe you went about it the wrong way, but I know you meant well. You’re a good person, Draco.”

Draco’s mouth opens and closes, and then he mutters under his breath, “I’m many things, good isn’t one of them.”

Harry scrunches his nose, thinking of all the ways he can convince Draco, summoning the words as if flipping through Hermione’s portable dictionary, then sighs. “We’ve got forever. I’ll convince you one day.”

Draco looks at their wrists, their matching bracelets, and sniffs. “Forever.”

“Yep.”

The hurricane still shakes Harry’s body inside out, but he manages to fall asleep that night to the thought of Draco’s small smile. But when he wakes up, not even Draco dramatic pause Malfoy can make his mind settle. 

Today’s the last day of camp, and even though they serve Harry’s favorite breakfast, baked oatmeal, he can’t eat. 

Today’s the last day of camp, and even though he starts a fire all by himself with Peter in his final Activity of the summer, he can’t seem to smile. 

Today’s the last day of camp, and even though he sits between Lily and James at the closing campfire, he can’t seem to sing the camp songs. 

Today’s the last day. 

And Harry doesn’t want to leave Hogwarts.

It all feels like it’s slipping out of his grip—a dog on a leash sprinting away after a squirrel, and no matter how fast Harry runs, he can’t catch up. He leans into Lily and tries to soak up every last minute of camp camp camp! but he can’t stop imagining everyone’s faces tomorrow when he’s the last camper standing a l o n e. 

Abandoned yet again. 

Harry doesn’t think he’s upset with James or Lily, he understands why they let him go all those years ago. But they did let him go. So maybe…they’ll do it again. 

The last part of the closing campfire is goodbyes, a crowd of crying campers and counselors swapping farewells and memories and see you soons. Harry follows Draco around on autopilot, hugging people back, nodding at their words, but feeling a little like he did when he first managed to float on water. Weightless and maybe even invisible. 

Then, like a lighthouse, the very person who taught Harry how to float lights up his vision. 

“Hi, Dorcas.”

“Harry!” Dorcas sweeps him into a tight hug and he bites back his tears, sinking into their sweatshirt.

“I—uh—I’m really glad you taught me to swim. I really like swimming.”

Dorcas pulls away a little to look at Harry. “Don’t tell anyone, but you were my favorite student. You rocked the frog kick.”

Harry manages to smile at that. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Marlene agrees.”

At the mention of the other lifeguard, Harry hesitates. “Uhm Dorcas, are you and Marlene—did Dumbledore…did he end your love story?”

“Love story?” Dorcas freezes. 

“I know you can’t tell me 'cause it’s against the rules and all, but I just want you to know that I’m rooting for you. Draco too. We think that you and Marlene would be legendary.”

Dorcas’ eyes find the woodchips beneath them as she laughs. “Legendary, huh?”

Harry laughs too. 

“I’m not sure what you know or how you know it—” Dorcas sighs. “But you don’t have to worry about me and Marls, yeah? We’ll be alright.”

“Together? You’ll be alright together?” 

From the look in Dorcas’ eyes, Harry knows that isn’t the case, so he jumps forward to hug her tightly, pressing in as much love as he can into their shoulders. 

“You’re a great kid, Harry.” Dorcas squeezes him back. 

She looks around then kneels in front of Harry, taking his hands. “I know about all the crazy things that have happened to you this week, and I’m sure you’re overwhelmed, but can I just say—there’s a reason you were both Slytherin and Gryffindor. You’re clever and brave, loyal and kind. Whatever happens next with Lily, James, and your parents, trust that you are going to get through it because you’re incredible. No doubts about it.”

Harry’s heart feels like it’s rotting in his chest, like those apples he forgot he hid under his bed for when he got locked inside his room, and the smell and the maggots made his dad go red with anger. He’s such a liar, he’s not clever or brave, he’s a LIAR. 

And soon enough everyone would find out.

Dorcas sighs at his sad expression. “It isn’t easy saying goodbye but all of this will be here next summer, yeah?”

“I don’t know if my parents will let me come back next summer,” Harry admits. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be let out of the house, in fact.

“Lily and James won’t let that happen,” Dorcas says with confidence. 

For a second, Harry believes Dorcas, he believes that with Lily and James on his side, everything will work out—he’ll get away from his dad and come back to Hogwarts, maybe even go to a real school. 

Then the buzz of the fruit flies rings in his ears and he slumps. 

Dorcas squeezes Harry’s hand. “You okay?” 

“I made a super duper big mistake, Dorcas.”

“We all do that every now and then, wanna tell me what’s up and I can help you figure it out?”

“It’s really bad.”

Dorcas’ expression is calm and steady and it reassures Harry. 

“My parents don’t know.”

“They don’t know what?”

“They don’t know that I’m here,” Harry whispers. 

Dorcas takes a second, a longggg one, then asks carefully, “Harry, how is that possible?”

“Well, you see, I—I ran away.”