Cause they say that misery likes company

Harry wasn't getting a migraine as much as he felt the need to vomit. 

The nausea was almost overwhelming to the point where it was making his eyes blur slightly. All he wanted to do was curl up on one of Sirius' couches in his trunk and sleep the day away with Hunaria. 

Everyone seemed to be so comfortable, and they were all talking and chatting as if they were all old friends. 

And they were. It was Harry who was the odd one out.

No one really paid him much attention, and Harry was fine with that- more than fine, actually. 

It allowed him to sink back into the shadows, a place he was very much used to. It allowed him to listen, watch, and analyze. 

Which was something he was really good at.

Since only James and Sirius sat beside him, it was easy to place an invisible Hunaria on his lap and occasionally vanish pieces of meat, wandlessly, having them reappear on the napkin in his lap. That way, Hunaria could eat as she pleased without the risk of someone potentially seeing her and trying to kidnap the one-of-a-kind dragon, regardless of whether it was a possibility- because it wasn't. She had enough protective spells weaved on her to decimate a building if she so desired. 

Harry was always going to be careful with her, though, just as he would be with Hedwig when he saw her again. The thought of his dearest friend makes his insides warm with love and affection. He'd managed to cast some discrete yet  intensively protective spells on her before they left, the movements coming to him involuntarily. It was engraved in him to protect the people he loved. 

He didn't love these versions of his family members just yet, but he cared for them immensely. Because Harry couldn't really bring himself to love people, he knew he might lose again. 

Sirius, though- Sirius and Remus. Their loss had tore something apart in him and seeing them together, fingers laced and Remus eyeing him with suspicion in his eyes, made Harry's heart ache. 

It made his fingertips go numb, and a raw pain spread from his chest towards his hands. 

If it hadn't been such a normal thing for him, he'd have thought he was having a heart attack. 

Harry had been eating most of his naan bread on his plate, and now came the time to actually try his plate of food; otherwise, it'd start to look suspicious. 

Harry casually looks over at his dad, who was rapidly eating his dish with vigor. It gave Harry a bit of hope that it was a good dish, but he was scared about the spice levels. 

He was decidedly not looking at Bellatrix or Regulus, who were both engaging with a delighted Sirius beside him. Remus had gotten the story from his apparent husband in whispered tones, and Harry was very much aware of the heavy gazes the werewolf was giving him. 

It was hard to lie to a werewolf, one because of scent and two because of one's heartbeat. 

So Harry was assuming what Remus was suspicious about was Harry and Hadrian's scents. At least, that was Harry's hypothesis. 

Harry didn't really want to be on the receiving edge of his godfather's anger. It would hurt too much and Harry wouldn't even know what to do.

He takes a tentative bite of his food and almost blanches in shock before he forces the food down his throat, along with some bread, to soothe the wave of burns on his tongue. 

His expressions were thankfully controlled. 

A bit of spice - okay, a lot of spice- was  nothing compared to being tortured. 

Harry could handle anything. 

So his discomfort right now meant nothing. 

It was nothing. 

And it was  fine. 

"How is Tommy boy doing?" Sirius grins at his younger brother, who gives him a bland look. 

Harry doesn't look up, but his ears were now tuned in directly to the conversation, heart in his throat. 

"Sirius don't call him that to his face," Regulus drolls, exasperated. There seemed to be a tiny smile on his face, though. 

Harry wondered if the brothers had been separated at all by jealousy and parental abuse in this lifetime. He wonders if they were close. 

And he wonders if his godparent would be happy to know that in some far-off universe he and his younger brother were sitting together, having lunch and teasing one another. 

He thinks he would. 

Harry glances up, staring a bit at Sirius, whose whole face was lit up with delight. There was a youthfulness to him that hadn't been in his own godfather. Harry hadn't realized just how dead his Sirius and his Remus' eyes actually looked now that he could compare two different versions. 

It made Harry's eyes burn at the realization that Harry had never been enough for them. It was okay, though. He didn't mind. Even if he remained alive for years because of his loved ones. There were so many times when he just wanted to end it all, and that moment in the forest, when he'd come face to face with a green-lit wand -courtesy of the other half of his soul- Harry had felt nothing but relief. 

And then even death couldn't bring Harry peace because he was brought back. 

Harry wondered if it would stick now. His death…. if he ended up killed by someone else's hand or even his own.

"Tom is doing good. He's busy with the Wizgemont as you would know , if you were attending meetings with grandfather, since you are the heir," Regulus shoots back, and Harry wonders why his voice was so smooth. If he was less controlled in the manner of his movements and less trained in concealing his emotions, he would have shivered. 

The man's words resonate with Harry though, at least Sirius' disinterest in all of that heir nonsense was something the two worlds had in common. 

Harry eventually just decides to eat his naan bread. Because if he had another bite, he would probably have vomitted everywhere. So he simply opted to vanish bits of the food into his fridge back at his  home. He'd probably give it to someone else in Knockturn alley, or a homeless person in the muggle world. 

He would never ever throw food out. Harry wouldn't be able to take it. He'd end up eating it all, regardless of if it would make him sick. Because he couldn't take the image of food in a trashcan. 

Not when a trashcan had been his only food source for so many years. 

Harry notices his dad looking glancing around, and Harry acts very invested in his dish. 

James stares at his children, making sure they were all okay and happy. Hadrian and Chris were happily chatting with their aunt Bella, while Regulus and Sirius were arguing -more like  teasing - with an amused Remus staring at them. Lily and Rabastan were speaking about one of the new Runes research articles released in The Scientific Journal of Runeology. Lily and Rabastan loved their runes, and so did James; he just wan't as passionate as they were. His academic fields mostly covered Transfiguration and light-based magicks, which was a new interest considering the teaching job that had been offered him. 

But Haz was staring down at his plate and  was feeding an invisible Hunaria on his lap wandlessly. And James was staring in astonishment at what he was witnessing. 

It concerned him how quickly Haripreet could tell that someone was staring at him because wide green eyes were peeking up at him in the next second, a wariness in them that James didn't like. 

"You okay? You liking the food?" James asks with a gentle smile, deciding to ask about his son's wandless magic later. 

It was so subtle that James was sure he wouldn't have realized if James wasn't on the side of the hand that Haz was currently using. 

Haz was actually using his left pinky to gently vanish a piece of meat from the plate and have it reappear invisible next to an invisible Hunaria; at least, that was what James assumed was going on. 

James was honestly in awe at what he was glimpsing, but Haz had said he had been enlisted in a war. So if James revised his take on his son, Haz had every right to be cautious about anything and everything. Especially if he'd lived most of his life, fighting. 

Haripreet smiles up at him, a bit guarded, and the smile was still awed, still shaky and it still made James' heart pang, but it warmed him up all the same. 

"I'm okay. The food is really good," He smiles, and the smile was a bit heartbreaking and bit too soft. James just wanted to bundle him in blankets and hug all the misery and despair away. 

James shares the smile, leaning down a bit to boop his forehead gently with Haz's. "Good," James smiles, his smile turning into a grin when Haz blinks rapidly in confusion, eyes wide. 

James struggles not to just aww at the sight. 

Someone actually does, though, and it was Bella who was staring at the child beside him with barely concealed worry in her eyes. She would have recognized the signs just as much as Sirius, considering her role as a part-time professor at Hogwarts for students intending to take an apprenticeship into curse-breaking. She was one of the top five curse-breakers in Britain and maintained her rank as one of the top ten curse-breakers in the world, as did the only intern she'd taken on. 

James watches as Haz glances around him once, an examining glance before allowing himself to relax and continue to eat, not without a curious look in his direction though. 

"Stop, he's so cute; what on earth?" Lily hisses at her husband as she attempts to feed an excitable Eva, who, despite her rank as heiress, was still young, and despite James' strictness, he still allowed them a bit of freedom to express their emotions. However, they were expected to act dignified at all times. 

Rabastan was snickering at their expense, his eyes flickering to Haz every once in a while, just as fascinated as the rest of them. James sends them both exasperated smiles, because it was obvious their son was uncomfortable, and James just wanted Haz to be okay. And maybe to smile a bit more genuinely. 

However, James could settle for Haz's awed glances. 

James was a bit fascinated by how Haz  knew all the etiquette required of him as a Scion of the House of Potter. He wondered who had taught him. But James assumed it was probably Sirius. Because if James and Lily had died, they would always leave their kids to Sirius and Remus in any universe. 

That could be why Haz looked at Sirius like the man was seconds from disappearing. 

James could see that Harry had a constant hand almost hovering over his lap, which was where Hunaria was sitting if James was reading it correctly. 

Hmmm, so his son was excessively protective. Honestly, whoever raised the kid did a proper job of it. James' heart stung at the thought of another version of him never meeting this amazing child. 

Because James was sure any version of him would have been heartbroken at the state of his son -as he was right now- and would have done anything, sacrificed  anything to give Haz even a little happiness.

James decides that his kid was being much too quiet and needed to smile a bit more. 

"Would you like to come back here? If you don't like it, we'll always be able to find another restaurant to frequent. Sirius won't care. He'll just pout a little," James teases with a wide grin, a warm expression on his face. He found it crushing at how surprised Haz was that James was taking the time to actually converse with him. Like Haripreet couldn't imagine someone taking interest in him as a person, rather than as a soldier.

Haripreet smiles, looking a bit unsure. "It's a nice place. Very warm," Harry admits softly. He smiles down at his plate of food, "I've never been to a place like this before," 

James blinks, swallowing a bit harshly. Because if Remus and Sirius had actually raised Haripreet, then he would've been spoiled and happy - because Sirius was a spoiled brat. And there was no way any children of Sirius' wouldn't know about fine cuisine. 

James had hoped that his suspicions were wrong. He had pleaded in his mind that Haz hadn't ended up with rotten guardians. But all of the evidence was pointing to the obvious. 

His son had been hurt. 

And James couldn't even destroy the people who did it. 

"Who raised you new baby Potter," A shrill voice interrupts James' musing and James' eyes narrow a bit at the slight flinch of surprise Haz does. Bellatrix was staring at the child intently, her dark eyes trained on his form.

James watches Haz straighten almost instantly, meeting her gaze head-on. An involuntary reaction to being challenged. 

He'd seen older men shake at being caught in the woman's gaze. James couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise. Especially because Haz didn't know  Bellatrix like they did. And the kid still held himself up with a confidence one just didn't see in a person that young. 

It seemed they all knew something about the kid if James was reading into things correctly. Because even Regulus was looking at him with actual interest. And not the feigned interest he almost always wore as an expression to be polite. 

James could tell the difference due to how close they all were. 

Charlus stiffens just as much as Haz had, "Aunt Bella, you shouldn't ask people questions like that," His eldest scolds, looking ready to fight in defense of Haripreet. 

Huh. It took much more than a couple  hours for Charlus to latch onto someone and deem them trustworthy enough to be around his family. If Charlus was sticking up for Haripreet, then, he saw something in the kid that needed to be protected. 

Charlus must've suspected the same thing James had. 

Abuse. 

Haripreet simply smiles, eyes never once faltering from Bellatrix's. "Oh it's alright. I don't mind. I was raised by muggles ." His eyes flashed with an unspoken challenge, and Bellatrix blinks in surprise at it. 

A slow grin was growing on her face, and James tries not to groan. Getting the attention of Bellatrix Lestrange neé Black was never a good thing. Willaim Weasley was a testament to that. Until now, the redhead was still bemoaned the training (ahem torture)  his mentor had put him through as he trained to be a curse-breaker.

"They're dead though, which is why I was placed with the Potters. My godmother was an Evanson," Haripreet continues his explanation and it was obvious that everyone was baffled by his words.

Regulus jumps into the conversation, and James side-eyes Sirius, whose jaw clenches in worry. Remus, the observant  little shite,  catches it all, his own eyes analyzing the situation curiously. Obviously, he had no clue that Haz was their actual child from another universe, so this whole thing was really strange to him. 

"You were raised by muggles ? How are you so eloquent in our ways?" Regulus asks sternly, but to Harry it comes off as a bit demanding and he forces his eye to stop twitching in annoyance.

"Practice and reading," Harry answers smoothly, without looking at the man. Because Harry kind of wanted to punch the man in his perfect handsome face for some reason, as his arm felt like it was on fire. The bond was only halfway closed, and partial bond formation was always unbearable to endure. The way his magic was fighting him almost violently, trying to reach towards his soulmate, was actual  agony. It felt like he was missing a limb, and his prosthetic was sitting across from him. 

Harry stuffed some more bread into his mouth, trying to indicate that he didn't want to talk anymore. But it was evident that no one really cared past their curiosity. 

"But that doesn't make any sense at all," Regulus continues, drilling a hole in the side of Harry's head.

"Uncle Reg, stop it, Haz doesn't like-" Rian attempts to block the man's inquiring questions towards Haripreet, which was kind of out of the norm for the Slytherin cunning the Black son normally exhibited. 

Harry's gaze slices over to Regulus, and both gazes clash, his green gaze searing and almost burning into the cool grey that Regulus exhibited, "It's not my job to make things make sense to you, Consort Slytherin," Harry retorts calmly.

"Haz!" James hisses, scolding Harry in a way Harry did not care for. He had not been parented his entire life. He didn't need to be parented now. Not when he'd already seen the worst of the world and survived. 

"No. No. It's fine," Regulus had a slight smile on his lips, his legs crossing at the knee. His eyes gleamed like Harry was some interesting new toy that he wanted to play with for a while. 

That's the thing with new toys, though. 

Eventually, they got thrown away. 

There was a terse silence, and from the edges of his gaze, Harry could see Regulus' two shadows edging closer. He fought the need to roll his eyes. However, the silence didn't last for long. 

"Oh… was this a planned meeting? I'm feeling quite left out," A smooth voice interrupts, sounding almost teasing. Immediately, the staring contest was broken -leaving Harry the winner, feeling bereft and desolate.

Harry knew who it was just by the tone of his voice. 

He knew. 

And the tremors immediately escalated in his right hand at the sound of his voice. He instantly tucks it under the table, grabbing it with his opposite hand. It was a desperate attempt to stop the shaking. Thank Lady Magic, all attention was on the man in question.

He remembered that smooth voice casting cruciatus curses at him again and again , until Harry was certain he'd end up like his godmother Alice and her husband. 

"Hello, darling," Regulus says with a smile, getting up to greet the man with such a warm expression on his face; Harry feels  the impact in his chest like a stab wound. 

Tom looked much too sane and excessively lovely. He looked content. And Harry couldn't help the wave of relief that filled every crevice of his mind at the man's sanity and apparent happiness. Those feelings then invoked feelings of turmoil in him, so great Harry's face began to feel superheated. Thank god he'd perfected the art of blushing at his own command, otherwise he would look like a tomato twenty-four seven. Tom Marvolo Riddle looked as gorgeous and magnificent as Harry always thought he would in his tailored robes and fancy shoes. Harry doubted if anyone actually knew Tom's last name before he became Tom Slytherin.

Harry wondered if they had his name on their arms, much like how their names were engraved not only on his left forearm but in the cracks of his very soul.

He didn't think they did, not with how Regulus had reacted to Harry's name. Or perhaps they wore his old name? But that didn't make much sense either- they would have thought Rian was their soulmate in that case. 

Harry swallows harshly, fighting against the burn he could feel in the back of his throat. 

Most people wore long sleeves or wristbands to hide their soulmate marks. But Harry himself was a bit too cautious and paranoid to simply depend on something that could be easily removed with magic. 

So he devised a runic formation that hid  his marks, made them invisible to anyone but him. It was made with blood runes and soul magic, with a concealment ward unknown to this universe. 

Bill had been the one to help him make it. 

He'd always suspected Harry's soulmate was Voldemort. The redhead never received a finite answer to the unspoken question, but Harry never once disavowed any such rumors. And to Harry- he'd assume it was as good as a confirmation as one would get. His friends weren't idiots. They were the smartest of their generation- they could read between the lines. 

Only Harry's tattoos showed on his left arm. 

And  those  -to Harry- were more intimate and secret than his actual marks. 

His marks clearly meant nothing. Not if the other two in his triad didn't have his name on their skin. 

Harry would rather die than force anyone into being in a relationship with him. 

Not after what had almost happened to  his  Luna. 

And not after what had happened to his  Draco. 

He would never forget their screams.

Tom Riddle and Regulus Black share a brief, intimate, sweet smile. It was one that made Harry blink slowly. 

His vision was unseeing and blurry in front of him, and he didn't think he was actually breathing. 

This was fine. 

He was fine. 

Voldemort was dead. 

Voldemort wasn't torturing Harry. 

Voldemort wasn't killing Teddy.

Hermione wasn't killing herself. 

Ron wasn't dead. 

A flush of pain rushes up Harry's hand. He is instantly forced out of his episode, looking down into his lap. Hunaria was glaring up at him. She'd actually bitten him, and Harry inhales sharply. 

"Great," He mumbles because she was actually poisonous . He didn't think her venom was more potent than Basilisk venom, which he discovered he was  immune to after being stabbed by a Basilisk fang in the gut by one of Voldemort's many followers, but he had no clue what his magic was capable of. 

Better to be safe than sorry. 

"Are you alright, Haz?" Sirius asks. Harry was getting sick of the question. He notices that Tom has sat down, and everyone was engaging the man in formal conversation. Watching Regulus and Tom was making Harry want to puke. 

"Fine. Where is the restroom?" He asks his godfather. 

Sirius eyes him for a second before nodding towards the far right of the restaurant. "Right back there," Sirius points it out. Harry allows Hunaria to creep back up his arm towards his shoulders. She was still invisible and Harry places his napkin gently on the table in front of him. 

"Excuse me," He murmurs before standing up and making his retreat without another word. 

Harry maintained his steady pace until he was out of sight and was inside the washroom. He opens up a stall and wards it immediately before he waves a hand to sanitize everything and plops down on the toilet seat. 

Harry summons the anti-venom and downs it in one go, visions of Charlie doing the same thing hundreds of times flashing behind his eyelids.  

Harry was frankly dissociating, and he didn't care for his reaction to his soulmates being a loving couple-  not one bit. 

He had to get over it. 

He couldn't freak out every time he saw them. 

It was a blow he needed to come to terms with. 

Harry stares unseeing at the stall door in front of him, trying to blink away the rapidly approaching flashback that was attacking his brain. 

"Harry! Harry! We need to BLOODY MOVE,"  Draco's voice was echoing and pounding in his head. 

"Drake, no, no. We can't. It's- It's Fred. We can't leave him, STOP IT!"  Harry hears himself scream, fighting against the blonde man, struggling to get them both to safety. 

Harry sees himself shove Draco aside, racing towards the edge of the tree line, where he already knew what he'd see. He'd seen the scene hundreds of times before, after all. 

It was an army of twenty Inferi, all standing still at the order of Voldemort, who was holding up Fred's decapitated head, blood sopping into the grass underneath, watering the dry plants. 

Harry hears himself gag, hears Draco screaming, and feels himself being shoved back and away from the anti-apparition wards. 

Feels the shock. 

Hears the cackles. Hears the laughter. Sees the way Voldemort orders his undead army to feast on the dead body of his adopted brother. 

Hears how badly Molly had screamed . 

He feels himself vomit as they rip apart the wards to get themselves out of there. It was a gamble. Dying by magic depletion or dying by Voldemort's hand. 

Harry remembered simply wanting to die. 

...regardless of the path he choose. 

It had been Draco who had held him through it all, even when his blonde friend had been breaking just as severely. 

Harry shudders as he flinches back into his own body, his unseeing eyes flashing with color that blinded him. He covers his eyes with the palms of his hands, breathing through the panic, even though he was finding it so hard to breathe. 

God, he was just so tired . 

Harry stares at his arms silently. He'd never touch his left arm. It was the hand that was beautiful- beautified by the drawings of each of his loved ones carved into his skin. 

His right hand, though, was the ugly one. The one with the basilisk scar engraved on his forearm, the arm with Umbridge's torture slashed into the back of his hand, the hand that Nagini bit. It was the ugly hand. 

And the hand Harry sacrificed the most when it came to defending himself. 

The tension in his body was continuously building more and more until he finally caved and cut into his forearm horizontally. It was a wandless spell, one he'd perfected over the years. It wasn't quite a diffindo,  but a revised version of it, seeing as a  diffindo, could sever an arm if you weren't careful. And when Harry was in this state, he didn't want to accidentally end up limbless. 

Immediately, it felt like Harry could breathe again. It felt like a balloon had popped. 

"Hatching. Enough. That is enough. You are okay. I promise."  Hunaria begged, moving to stop him from cutting anymore. She flew forward and landed on his arm, a barrier against hurting himself anymore. 

"Your greatest gift to yourself was not dying when you wanted to, Harry. I promise. Things will get better,"  Hunaria pleads, and Harry forces himself to smile at her.

He inhales deeply and steadily. He heals the cut silently and nods. 

"Okay…." He breathes again, "Okay," He affirms, before moving to heal his arm. Harry already felt ugly enough; he didn't need more scars.

Oh, how Harry just wanted someone to want him. Someone who wanted to hear all the things he had on his mind. Someone who wouldn't judge him. He wanted someone to sit with him in his silence and grief. He wanted someone to feel like  home. He'd never really had that before. Every time he thought he did, it got taken away. Harry wanted someone to understand that his whispers were just as crucial as his screams. 

He just wanted someone to understand his silence and regard his pain. Wanted someone who understood what went unsaid in his glances. He ached for someone to read the pauses in-between his words and see the grief in his eyes. 

He wanted someone to grab his hands when they shook from crutiatus exposure and just hold him. 

Honestly, Harry just wanted his mom and dad. 

And it hurt so much that they were right outside and yet felt like strangers to him. 

"Haz? Haz are you okay? You've been here for a while?" It was Rian's voice that popped in the restrooms, and Harry blinked away tears. He just wanted to stay here and wallow. 

Was that too much to ask?

"Haz?" Rian's voice was louder, more worried and Harry sighs, standing up and dropping the wards with a loud pop. He stepped out of the stall, eyeing Rian. 

"I'm okay, thanks for coming to find me," Harry gives the younger boy a kind smile, and Rian instantly relaxes, beaming at him. 

"I told Uncle Reg and Aunt Bella not to pry, but they didn't listen. I'm so sorry. They're a bit protective. They don't know that-" Rian chokes a bit as the vow comes into play and then groans, "About you know ," He continues, and Haz actually smiles at that, amused at the younger version of himself. 

Hunaria flies up to land on his head, burrowing into his hair. "Yes, I do," Harry tells Rian as he washes his hands, vanishing away any and all blood on his sleeves and in the stall, before he forgot. 

His blood could cause terrible things. 

He'd never leave it unattended again . 

"Oh, yeah, of course you do," Rian laughs, but his eyes are still hesitant. "You look pale though," He prompts and Harry sighs, before deciding to just convey the truth. 

"It's been a long day, Rian," Harry admits.

"Oh. Yeah I didn't realize. You've been meeting a lot of people haven't you? It must be overwhelming. I'm sorry no one realized. Well, I just did, but I didn't in time." Rian began to babble, and Harry grins. 

"It's fine. I promise it's fine. "Harry tells him, but Rian frowns, green eyes concerned. 

"No it's not, Haz. You shouldn't be fine  with being uncomfortable or overwhelmed. That's not okay. And if you're fine with that, I'm not!"  Rian demands. Harry casts a silencing ward seconds into Rian beginning to speak. 

Harry blinks in surprise before he moves forward slowly and engulfs the kid in a hug. "Thank you for caring," 

"You're me!" Rian demands, "And you're hurt, you look sad all the time, and I don't like it," Rian cries, clutching onto Harry with a desperation that felt a bit forlorn coming from the fourteen-year-old. 

“Hmm, I’ve been through a lot. I’m dealing with it all just fine. You don’t need to worry about me,” Harry felt a bit fond of the kid. He seemed to be in tune with his emotions, which was something that Harry could actually relate to. 

"Your world sounds like a nightmare," Rian murmurs, making a small smile ease onto Harry’s face. 

Harry ends up bursting out into rounds of loud laughter. 

"It was!" He admits in-between giggles, smiling. 

“Do you have built in Occlumency shields?” Rian asks, “You look like you just had a panic attack but you seem to have recovered quickly,” Rian’s tone was slow and questioning, a bit wary as well. 

Harry blinks, a bit surprised at just how insightful this version of him was. Harry decided against telling him some of his deepest secrets. The only people who had known about his blood born magical gifts had been Hermione and Ron. And in no way shape or form was Rian on the same level as his actual siblings. Harry didn’t think he would ever compare to the two people who had stood by him through everything. 

The woman who had walked with him to his death and then had proceeded to kill nine whole death eaters in her rage. Hermione who had only stopped fighting when Harry had woken up and Hermione, who Voldemort had developed a healthy fear of. 

The man who had sacrificed himself to try and find any information whatsoever on the kidnapping of Harry’s godson- his son basically- especially after Remus had passed on. The man who had become so proficient in running circles around their enemies, he became the chess-master, Dumbledore wished he would be. Ron, who had torn off both arms of the Death eater who’d tried to rape Luna, and then proceeded to castrate and then kill the bastard who hadharmed Draco. Ron who had been the brother of Harry’s heart and soul and who could make him laugh like no one had and probably no one ever could anymore. 

Harry promptly smiles, realizing how long he’d been caught up in his thoughts and then answers Rian. "No I’m not using Occlumency. I can basically just use my magic to force me out of any panic attacks I have,” Harry muses, speaking a half-truth. Rian seemed to believe him though and Harry breathes an internal sigh of relief.  

Rian stares at him silently trying to process Harry’s words and then he gapes, "Haz, I don't think magic can actually do that."  Rian's voice is high-pitched, and Harry snorts. 

"Make this the first lesson I give you as your elder brother; magic can do anything," Harry grins and ruffles Rian's hair before moving away and towards the doors. 

"Hey! Don't ruffle my hair like that!" Rian demands but races beside him, "Explain what you just said though! Nowhere in my magic theory books did it say that you could control your innate magic and mould it into anything you desired," 

"Maybe I should write a book then," 

"HAZ!" 

Harry laughs and walks away, leaving Rian pouting, "I'll figure it out. I'm really smart. Mum says so," 

"Oh well if  Lily Potter says so, you must be a genius," 

Rian pauses a bit, staring at him, "You can call her mum too, you know," He says softly, and Harry swallows harshly.

"I know. Thanks Rian," 

Lily then appears out of nowhere. And Harry thought of the old idiom where if you spoke of the devil, they would appear. Harry didn't want to get a scolding, though, so he decided to keep quiet,

She was panting slightly, her eyes frantic with worry. "It's been fifteen minutes!" She demands, "Are you two okay!?' She orders, green eyes wild and hair flaring with sparks of red magic that Harry hadn't noticed was a thing before. 

Harry wondered if his mum was any good at fire-based magicks. 

His twins were undoubtedly experts in the field. So much so, that death eaters used to whisper about them being potential fire-elementalists, which were wixen so proficient in a field of elemental magic that any magicks involving that specific element came as easy to them as breathing; whether it be in runes, alchemy, arithmancy, wards or even spell-casting and crafting. 

"We're fine. We just got caught up in talking," Rian tells his mum, who glances between the two of them suspiciously for a second before nodding in relief. She had her wand out, and Harry noticed Bellatrix standing slightly behind her, eyes keen and just as worried. 

It was weird. Especially considering that he kept seeing her flickering between the version of her he was familiar with and then this version of her- the sane one. It didn’t help that he kept hearing her nails-on-a-chalkboard laughter and seeing her flicker in and out of existence with the Death eater Bellatrix taking her spot. 

"Murder attempts happen often in this restaurant?" Harry asks the women casually making Lily snort and Bellatrix blink, startled for a second before she cackles in delight. Harry fights down the panic at hearing that laugh so close to him. 

The last time he’d heard that laugh, Bellatrix had just handed Sirius and Remus over for execution and then Harry had slit her throat with a well timed diffindo. He hadn’t really cared at the beheading he cause at the time. 

He still had nightmares of it though. 

"No, not that often new baby Potter, "She grins, and Harry manages a smile. He definitely hates being called that. It made him want to kill something.

But, anyone his mother supported and befriended, he'd give a single chance to. 

Because Peter had been his dad's friend, too....once. 

And then Harry ended up indirectly killing him. His life debt was a prison Harry used against him. It had been either him and Ron or Peter, and Harry would choose his brother over a traitor at any time. 

Death didn't really mean much to him anymore. 

He was sort of numb to it. 

"Well thank Lady Magic for that," Harry grumbles. Harry didn’t think he’d be able to directly speak to the woman who had caused his godfathers’ deaths.

Bellatrix looked delighted, and Lily stared at Harry, stunned. 

"You believe in Lady Magic?" Lily asks him. Harry stares back at her wordlessly. 

"Of course I do. She gave us magic. Why wouldn't I believe in the deity that gave us such a gift?" Harry looks at his mum like she was crazy and Lily smiles a bit amused. 

"That's lovely Haz, I'm very proud of you. In the past decade or so, there have been a lot of people realizing that the Olde ways are the proper ways of a wixen, but there are some that remain stubborn," Lily sighs. Harry glanced at her, unsure of how she wanted him to respond. 

Harry would be a damn near idiot if he didn't believe in the deity who graded him on his O.W.Ls, now would he?

She was probably talking about Dumbledore, who believed in the Olde ways -of course he did. Dumbledore was a lot of things, but the man was a mastermind, a top-tier manipulator, and a chess master to boot- he just wanted people to stay dumb. He desired to have all the knowledge and power, giving him more leeway in the political field.

Harry suspected it was because Albus wasn't as powerful magically as he wanted to appear. Sure, he was strong for a wixen and was probably more powerful than the vast majority of wixen, but when compared to Tom, Grindelwald, and Harry himself, the man didn't stand a chance. His sister, on the other hand, Ariana Dumbledore? She was one powerful witch. Even Aberforth was damn near strong in his own right. The man had participated in training Harry along with his godparents, Snape, Kingsley, Tonks, Krum, Fleur, and Bill. 

So, in Harry's opinion, Dumbledore preferred the population dumbed down all in an attempt to raise himself up. 

"Well, they're a bit stupid then aren't they," Harry admits bluntly. 

"Yes they are, Haz," Lily's lips twitch in amusement, grabbing both him and Rian gently, and leading them all back to their table.

Bellatrix was cackling even more now, causing Rian to bark out a laugh. Her laughter had caused his eyes to blur a bit before Rian’s laugh, jolted him out of his head. It sounded so much like Sirius, it made his heart ache. 

"Good god, I thought Sirius was here for a second," Harry gives his brother a side eye, and at that both Lily and Bellatrix laugh at Rian's expense, who just glares at him. 

"Everything alright?" James asks the four of them, staring a bit intimidated as the two powerful woman laughed and Hadrian looked begrudging. Haripreet simply looked exasperated, and the expression made James want to smile. 

"Rian was channeling Sirius," Haz ends up explaining, and Rian gapes, 

"Wha- Hey! Haz, that's not fair! Sirius always laughs like that! Of course, it's going to catch on," His youngest son whines, and James immediately knows what they were talking about. It seems everyone else did too because now they were all smiling at an amused Sirius, who was grinning unabashedly. 

"That's my boy Harry," Sirius beams at Hadrian.

"Thanks, Sirius," Rian laughs a little as they all take their seats once again. Haz moves back to sit in between Sirius and himself. 

James watches his two sons, a little concerned, but they both seem alright, and Hadrian seemed to be smiling more at Haz, who was intent on giving the younger kid annoyed glances. Seems like they had bonded even more. 

And James was delighted by it. 

Harry kind of, maybe, allowed his emotions to get the better of him for a second. He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. Although, he wasn't expecting Sirius to call Hadrian, Harry. And it shocked him, thinking Sirius was talking to him. But it shouldn’t have shocked him, because they were all used to calling Rian that and Harry, was the odd one out here. He was the weird one. The one who’d been forced to change his name to fit in. 

The one who would never feel at okay with being called by a name 

Harry had swallowed the hurt and proceeded to ignore, ignore, ignore.  

Tom was seated across from him in a seat he'd pulled up by his husband, and Harry had taken to digging his nails into the palms of his right hand. He had been forced to learn to use both of his arms, in battle and even in his daily life. So Harry was essentially ambidextrous due to it. Hence, Harry's ease with eating using his opposite hand. 

It helped with spell casting and dueling, which was why he preferred to have two wands on his person always.  

It was for ease of use as well as a tactic of surprise. 

He preferred leaving his wandless magic out of battles until he had no other choice. It was a hidden skill, that he liked to keep  hidden until he couldn't. 

Until he'd fought one too many battles, and it had become quite known just how formidable an opponent Harry James Potter was. 

"Hello Mr. Evanson, I am Tom Marvolo Slytherin. Pleased to meet you," The man in front of him smiles charmingly, not  offering his hand. 

Annnnd, Harry was almost ninety-nine percent sure that the Draco of this world snitched on him to Tom. 

He didn't care, and didn't offer his hand to Tom either. Harry was wrought out emotionally and wasn't a big fan of his soulmates currently. Hopefully, his lack of manners made him appear brutish in Tom's eyes and uninteresting enough to forget about. 

He didn't think it would be that easy, though. 

"It's a pleasure, Lord Slytherin," Harry simply replies with a polite bow of his head and then proceeds to drink his glass of juice, trying to force the man to look away. 

It wasn't fair how handsome the two were. 

Dark eyes like obsidian glimmered as they took in Harry's form, and Harry was very much regretting having entertained Draco the day previously, regardless of how much fun he'd had. 

It was kicking his arse right now. 

"I heard you met our young Draco yesterday," 

God damn it, fuck it all . 

The bastard really had the gall to announce it right here in front of everyone?

Harry sighs internally and imagines himself stabbing the man with his fork. Just to mess with that stupid, perfectly perfect smile of his. 

"Yes, indeed. He assisted me in wardrobe shopping. It seems Heir Malfoy has a hobby," Harry drawls out, keeping his gaze locked on Tom's. 

Harry didn't give two shites about Tom's natural legilimency considering he was a natural occulumens, and his talent rivalled Voldemort's in his prime.

Tom didn't attempt to penetrate his mind, either out of respect for Harry himself or for Lord Potter, who was his guardian at the moment. It was highly illegal, after all. And Harry would have no issue calling the bastard out if he even tried it. 

Harry gazes a bit upwards, his eyes taking in Tom's own magic. His magic seemed curious of him, but it was latched onto Regulus with vigour, the dark black swirls of magic were soft in their composition but heavy with magical potency.

It was only for a second, but Tom's gaze instantly tracked the movement, his eyes following Harry's gaze and then immediately coming back to land on him, eyes intrigued. 

Great.  

"Yes, Draco said he was delighted to make a new friend. Said you intended to take most of the Hogwarts curriculum," Regulus adds, after noticing his husband's curiosity. 

So they worked as a team. One analyzed, and the other distracted before then they switched. Harry really wanted to be petty and just not fall for the obvious tactic -how could they be so obvious? It didn't make sense; Voldemort was never this obvious. There were always plans upon plans upon plans with secrets intertwined with more secrets-  but he decides otherwise and slowly moves his eyes to land Regulus, his gaze not unkind, but not kind either. 

"Yes. I'm interested in a lot of subjects given that I've always been homeschooled since I'm an orphan," Harry deadpans, using the topic to make them uncomfortable and internally smiling when Regulus shifts a bit. He feels a slight pang in his chest at the fact. 

This was his soulmate, god damn it. 

Why was everything so hard ?

Just because they were causing him pain shouldn't mean he had to make them uncomfortable. It wasn't fair. 

Harry, from the corner of his eye, sees James and Lily stiffen a little; Sirius does the same to his right. 

"It's nice that you made a friend darling," Lily manages to say with a strained smile. "Draco is a lovely boy." His mum manages. 

And Harry feels like utter shite . 

He just wants to sleep, and it wasn't even one in the afternoon yet. 

Harry nods, shooting his mum a quick, gentle smile, which has her relaxing a little, "Yes he seems like a nice friend to have," 

Harry goes through the rest of dinner, silently observing everyone, with a gaping hole in his stomach that had been filled with brief pieces of naan bread, and a weeping hole in his heart that kept getting more prominent as time passed. 

With every gentle look between his soulmates and every moment he witnessed between them, Harry felt more and more like an outsider. He felt more and more like he didn't belong. 

And Harry didn't know if he wanted to anymore.