Chapter 9
Harry, Ron, and Hermione - also Draco - return for their seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry is excited, because he gets to have his parents on the platform this time, and he is always down for new experiences.
“Bye dad, bye pop,” Harry smiles, squeezing both his parents in a hug. “Oh, dad, Uncle Atty's wandering again-”
“Atticus come here,” Voldemort sighs, and resigns himself to tethering Atticus to himself with a magical rope. “Honestly. You can't keep stealing people's bits, it's not done.”
Atticus settles when Harry hugs him goodbye as well, though Voldemort is quick to steal his son back. “Remember, do not listen to Dumbledore.”
“Dad,” Harry says, amused, “he wants the best for us.”
“He wants the best for you. He wants me dead in a ditch.”
Harry cannot deny this, and settles for soothing his father's fears. “Alright, I won't listen to him when he's being weird about you. Don't worry, I'll write often as well.”
“See that you do,” Voldemort mutters. “No staying back for the holidays.”
“Nope! I'm coming home!”
Voldemort’s worry thaws at Harry's resplendent smile, and he turns to Hermione. “Harry may hug his godfather now. Switch.”
“Switch?” Hermione asks, even as Harry sails into Sirius and Remus' arms. “What, you want to hug me?”
“We can just stand in silence,” Voldemort offers, which is exactly what they do as they watch Sirius cry fat, emotional tears onto Harry.
“Be happy!” Sirius wails. “Find adventure, and food, and love-!”
Draco panics at this, because Potter doesn't need to find more love, surely, he has quite the monopoly on that. “Well he’s found the latter, thank you very much!” Draco blusters. “Potter, defend me!”
“Draco’s swell, Siri,” Harry smiled, as Sirius twitches unhappily.
Remus intervenes with his usual calm brand of logic. “Be safe,” he advises, “and study hard! You’re starting new subjects!”
Harry nods. “I’ll look at Hermione’s notes real closely!”
“I, too, have notes!” Draco stresses.
“Hermione colour codes hers for me.”
“Really?” Draco whirls around to ask, at which Hermione nods. Voldemort looks appreciatively at her and pats her fluffy head. Atticus, too, pats her head, and manages to filch some more hair for his nefarious rituals.
They eventually get on the train, and Harry hangs out of the window like a lemming. “Bye dad,” he says, kissing Voldemort’s prominent cheekbone. “Take care of yourself. Also pop and Uncle Atty.”
“I will - Avery, have you got eyes on Atticus?”
“He’s over there, talking to a Weasley and a Prewett.” Indeed, Atticus was talking to Molly and Arthur, the latter of whom was genuinely enjoying speaking to someone just as odd as he, while Molly was put out at Arthur’s' new friend.
By the time the train has departed, Atticus has secured an invite to Sunday lunch at the Weasley’s, and has made a friend.
The three of them go home, where Voldemort is accosted by Narcissa with a sterling silver tray filled with riches.
“Draco and Harry were holding hands on the train,” she says. “Please consider these artifacts as the first installment of our dowry unto your house.”
Voldemort blinks at Narcissa in confusion before saying, “I don’t want these,” he said simply. “I am told that such things are not done amongst friends.”
Narcissa then proceeds to have a strong emotional reaction before remembering that she is Posh and British, and suppressing her emotions till she has a spasm. Voldemort is not looking forward to explaining this to Lucius.
***
“Lucius, your wife had a spasm.”
“M- my lord? Narcissa? How-“
“She had several emotions at once.”
“Ah. Yes, I see.”
“She is staying over to sleep off the stunner.”
“Stunner?”
“I stunned her,” Voldemort explains slowly, “because she was having a spasm.”
Lucius has nothing left to say, and settles for bowing in the floo until his nose scrapes the scraps of kindling, leaving him looking like an evil dalmation.
***
Dear Harry,
I hope that you are well. This large manor is left lacking without the life and laughter that you bring and I often find myself windering what you are getting up to - studying, I hope.
I have taken to shrinking Nagini down to put her in my pocket and taking her on walks. The small muggle children think that she is cute, more fools they, but she is basking in the glory of being the village star.
Your ‘pop’ Avery is adjusting to living in plain sight of muggles, but is still scared of the local children. They like to chase him with their custard creams and ribena packets.
We often spend time with Black and Lupin, who live not far away, and we conspire on bills to bring before the Wizengamot. Black is surprisingly savvy, I am pleasantly surprised. I think that he has been speaking to his brother’s portrait - Regulus was always a conniving little squirrel.
You should know that Black is very excited to have a daughter - he thinks that with you and Granger, he has a matched set, and is getting the both of you matching robes. Thank me now, because I vetoed his choice of purple velvet robes with silver trim, and prevented the two of you from looking like some unfortunate aubergines. I instead pointed Black towards a nice dusty rose, which will suit your complexions better.
Atticus has been performing more séances, and the spirit of your messy haired father keeps popping in to interfere. I think that he and Atticus are fond of each other - I do not know if I ought to be horrified that they are friends. He is also a hit with the nearby muggle children - they have adopted them as their evil yet daft mascot, and he goes around with his army of childrene, as he would say.
In all of this insanity, I remain,
Your loving papa.
***
Dear dad,
I’m doing really well here in school! I hope that Uncle Atty’s keeping you and Pop on your toes. I can totally see him being a mascot, he is very sweet. I don’t think he knows that the kids are muggles, do you think that we ought to tell him?
I’m really glad that you and Pop are happy in the village, and are not bursting into hives at the presence of muggles. I’m very proud of your growth!
Hogwarts is fine, and my new runes class is cool. I think I like languages, I’m quite good at them, Hermione says. She makes me do a lot of review and it kind of makes me want to scream, but Ron gives great massages to alleviate the stress.
Draco says hello, and bowed. I think he respects and fears you in equal measure, just the way you like it.
Ron doesn’t fear you, he just thinks that you are posh and evil. Which is true, I suppose.
By the way, Professor Dumbledore keeps lurking and smoothing my head with a lot of emotion. Snape keeps messing it up to “restore balance to the universe” or something, and said that Potters “should not look refined, but rather like unkempt porcupines”.
All my love,
Harry.
***
Dear Harry,
It pleases me that you are settling back well. I told Atticus that his little army of tiny childrene are actually muggles, and he said that he knew, and further informed me that they like it when he divines things with tea and entrails.
I think he is breaking the statute of secrecy by teaching divination to muggle children, but Avery says just not to tell anyone. Apparently, the “village kook” is an acceptable cover story.
Atticus asks after you, by the way. I think he misses you, he keeps moping over the tea and says “my nephewe made it better”.
I am slightly horrified that Atticus thinks of me as his brother (younger, apparently).
When are your Yuletide holidays? Come home, it is lonely without you.
I remain,
Your loving father.
***
Dear dad,
I’m coming home in a week for the Yule Break! I can’t wait!
I bought you, Pop, and Uncle Atty gifts from Hogsmeade. Don’t tell Uncle Atty - I got him premium porlock entrails. I gathered them myself with Hagrid’s help.
Draco was hiding behind Grawp to avoid the butchering - Hagrid’s giant baby brother. Grawp thinks Draco is cute, and Draco is always up for positive affirmation.
I also bought Siri and Remus gifts, and so did Hermione, because she now has three dads and a mom. Apparently Mr. Granger is really getting on with Sirius and Remus. Remus particularly likes that the Grangers value dental hygiene.
Mrs. Granger met Kreacher, and introduced him to detergent and dettol. Grimmauld Place is really sparkly now, apparently.
She also wants to have a big family celebration for Yule, and is trying to get Hermione to agree to help with the turkey. Hermione volunteered Ron instead, so it’s bound to be good. Can we attend, dad?
Love you lots,
Harry.
***
Dear Harry,
Fine, I consent to being fed and watered by Weasley for Yule. Anything but Granger’s cooking.
Mrs. Granger - Helen - keeps sending sugar-free treats that perplex Avery. I quite enjoy them, as does Atticus, but Avery rejects them, on account of being a baker’s son. He was also scared of the electric whisk.
Come home, my child. I await your arrival with joy. Avery awaits your arrival to help him bake sugar loaded treats, and Atticus is just happy that you are coming home.
I remain,
Your loving father.
***
In the afternoon of the 20th of December, Harry sailed out of the Hogwarts Express and straight into his father’s arms.
Or he would have, if Atticus had not walked in the way and gotten squished between father and son.