harry ‘’hadrian’’ potter grew up in a red on white manor, his own bedroom and a soft bed. in his very first week he had so much food the house elves found him sick on the fancy toiletry. sliding off the banisters with his twin brother still felt weird. he had family. he was wanted.
even if his dad sometimes made crude jokes and ethan thorne made him promise to never speak of the dursleys again- he was happy.
(if he snuck out late at night slipping into the back of the potter library reading up all kinds of stuff. history- philosophy-charms- potions- politics- and even straining into the dark stuff dad didn’t like, well- )
dad and jules joke that he will be a ravenclaw. his tutors are happy that at least one of the potter twins was interested in their studies. (he had to be. he had to be. there must be reason he and his brother survived while their mother died. He has to be worthy of that sacrifice. he had to be. he had to be- their mom was death- there must be a reason- )
and if he took a few more books with that were not, strictly speaking, legal on to the hogwarts train with him, welllll- it was nobody’s business except for the elves.
dad called him the last present lily ever gave them. he was determined he was going to be the best of her. that meant doing everything in his power too- (''harry, listen- you have to protect jules, alright?'' dads hands were heavy on his eight year olds shoulders. his brown eyes, so much like jules, even more so. ''he is the boy who lived. death eaters and dark forces everywhere will try to take him down. It’s your responsibility to take care of him'' )
he was only here because of jules after all.