Harry stepped out of the fire and quickly moved to the side as it flared behind him. Ginny exited in a tumble of limbs, looking disappointed, when she realized that he was already out of the way. Harry couldn’t quite suppress his grin when Ron and Hermione slammed into her moments later.
Once everyone was sorted out, they quickly went to their rooms to start putting things up. Mrs. Weasley arrived at Ron’s door to find that everything had already been un-shrunk with a frown.
“They put a delay on the spell so it could be undone with a wand tap,” Harry said with a shrug, shoving his trunk to the foot of the spare bed with a grunt like it didn’t have a lightening charm built in.
He’d charmed the trunk to look more worn and beat up than it was, in fact, most of his new things looked rather battered, making it look like he’d gotten them all secondhand. Mrs. Weasley looked at the trunk with a frown but merely offered to bring up a snack, which Ron happily agreed to. She disappeared to help sort out Hermione’s things before bustling back downstairs.
Thankfully, Ron’s appetite hadn’t lessened at all, and Harry was able to bring the empty plate back to the kitchen later, not a single crumb remaining without actually having eaten any of the cookies himself. He snagged some of his pre-packed meals and the charmed bracelet and snuck them under Hermione’s pillow while everyone else was headed downstairs. It was going to be a very long week, he thought, heaving a sigh.
Harry tried to pick at his food while looking rather exhausted and sad as his bracelet burned against his wrist. It was hard not to snap at Ginny for hovering even with his Occlumency training. She seemed to be constantly just inches away, leaning into his shoulder or side like they were attached at the hip. He deliberately took an armchair after dinner, hoping to get some space, but she simply plopped down on the arm of the chair.
“I’m going to read upstairs for a while," he said with a huff, getting up and heading to Ron’s room while Ginny glowered at his retreating back.
The next morning, he took care to make it appear that he’d slept badly, picking at his meal and ignoring most of the conversation going on around him. He gave an uncaring shrug when Ron started pestering him about flying that afternoon. He played with them for about an hour before begging off and landing to sit next to Hermione under a tree, after the nonstop practice he’d been doing all summer for his Masters, the game was rather boring.
“So, are you going for a withdrawn and moody teenager or depressed and suicidal?” Hermione asked, keeping her book up so it looked like they were sitting near each other but not talking.
“Too much?" he asked quietly, honestly worried that he’d overdone it.
“Maybe a little, I’d try and at least have a few conversations with Ron and Ginny, or they might tattle to Dumbledore soon. Mrs. Weasley’s been watching every bite you take of food. I heard her telling Mr. Weasley that you’re not eating, and he said it was just a phase. That you’re mourning and to give it time." she said, petting Crookshanks when he climbed into her lap and started purring.
“Alright, I better go back up. You found the food last night?" he asked, fiddling with his broom while watching Ron attempt some maneuver, he wasn’t sure what.
“Yeah, thanks. Thankfully, Ginny sleeps like a rock.” Hermione said with a snort of laughter.
“Must be genetic,” Harry said with a huff as he mounted his broom, “Does she snore like Ron, too?”
He pushed off without waiting for her answer and let his broom pull him back into the air. He circled the pitch lazily for a while before Ron pulled him back into a game of keep-away. They played until it started to get dark, and Mrs. Weasley called them in for dinner. Harry drank from the tap when he went to the bathroom to wash his hands and face and stuffed himself with the uncontaminated rolls. He politely refused seconds and dessert, retreating to his room to read again.
Ron came up once dinner was finished and bothered Harry until he agreed to a game of chess. They were on their fourth game when Hermione came up to join them. Harry pushed the set at her once they finished the last game.
“Care to play for a while, Hermione? I’ve got to use the restroom.” Harry said urgently.
“Sure," she said, glancing at him with a concerned look.
Harry did use the bathroom and get some water from the tap, but he also wandered to the head of the stairs, where he could hear the others talking. Mrs. Weasley was ranting at Ginny and Mr. Weasley. He strained to hear them over the rattle of the dishes they were washing.
“You’d think the boy had lost his parents all over again. I’ve never seen a child mope so.” Mrs. Weasley sniffed, “And look at how mean he’s being to Ginny, brushing off her attempts to comfort the poor lad.”
“Maybe the boy just wants a bit of space to think things through, dear,” Arthur said with a sigh, papers rustling as he read the paper.
“He’s had all summer to think about it, Arthur. He needs to man up and stop sulking. We all know he’s missing his godfather, but really, he barely knew the man.”
“Everyone grieves differently, Molly; I’m sure he’ll perk up when they get back to school.” Arthur said, “Ginny, maybe you could try talking to him instead of being so physically close. Harry’s never seemed the type to enjoy a girl hanging off him all the time.”
“He doesn’t want to talk, Dad. He never even bothered to answer any of the letters I sent him," she said sulkily as she washed the dishes.
“Well, what did you talk about in the letters?”
“Just about how I missed him and hinting that I’d like to spend more time with him,” Ginny said, “Do you think he’d ask me out if I kissed him?”
“I think you need to give the boy the space he needs to grieve before trying to get him to be your boyfriend, Ginny. Be there for him, and he might ask you because he learns to like you, not because you’re throwing yourself at him.” Arthur said with a snort, moving into the living room to read the paper alone.
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Weasley said with a sniff, “Keep after him, with his new clothes and hair, the girls at Hogwarts will be trailing after him soon. You need to snap him up before they do.”
“He won’t even look at me, Mom.” Ginny all but wailed.
“Then make him notice you. He likes quidditch; keep up the practice and get him to notice you. Offer to rub his shoulders after practice, perhaps.”
“I’ll try.” Ginny said, heaving a loud sigh, “How am I ever going to be Lady Potter if he keeps ignoring me?”
“He’ll notice you, Ginny. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Weasley said fiercely, “You’ll be married by the time you graduate, just wait.”
“Are we even sure he’s going to make it that long? Everyone got hurt on his last suicidal adventure.” Ginny snapped with a huff.
“You just keep yourself safe and let him deal with the Dark Lord. Even if he does die before you both graduate, you’ll be seen as the grieving girlfriend of the ‘Boy Who Lived.’ It will all work out in the end.”
“He’s just such a prude! What kind of boy doesn’t want to cuddle and kiss? Do you think he’s gay?”
“Don’t even breathe a word of that! If the Prophet got wind of the ‘Boy Who Lived’ liking boys, we’d never hear the end of it. He’s just shy; you need to show him how it’s done.” Molly said firmly as she picked up her knitting and took a seat on the couch.
Harry headed back to Ron’s room in disgust. So the wizarding world wasn’t accepting of homosexual men either, figures that they would be still in the dark ages while the rest of the muggle world was slowly becoming more accepting. It wasn’t even that he was shy; he just thought that the blatant displays that Ginny seemed to prefer were better done in private.
It didn’t help that anyone he tried to date would immediately become a target of the Dark Lord and Dumbledore. If he ever did settle on someone, they would have to be strong and willing to fight for both of them. So far, he just wasn’t attracted to anyone enough to be willing to risk them.
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Ginny was just too nosy and pushy for his tastes. He’d overheard from more than one boy just how good she was for a grope or more in a dark classroom corner. He wanted more than that. He wanted someone willing to stand by his side and watch his back in a fight. Ginny just wanted his fame and fortune.
He wanted someone who wanted Harry for Harry and not for his scar, fame, or money. That seemed to be an impossible request right now, but maybe in a few years, he’d find the right woman or man. Maybe the women and girls around him just needed to grow up, he’d never really had the luxury of living in a fantasy, daydreaming about a life with safety and comfort in the arms of someone else. The most he’d ever wanted was a quiet corner or a chance to breathe in the sun, even those moments were rare and far between.
Harry just kept having their betrayals rubbed in his face; he thought with a sigh the next afternoon. Mrs. Weasley was listening to a program on the wireless, rather like a soap opera where a woman was bemoaning the man she’d been contracted to marry. Hermione had started an argument over how antiquated the practice was, while predictably, Ginny had argued that it was romantic.
“I wouldn’t want to marry someone I’d never met.” Harry put in quietly when Ginny had progressed to silent fuming.
“You two wouldn’t understand.” Mrs. Weasley said, “You weren’t raised in a magical household. It’s fairly common for young children to grow up together when they’re contracted. The children play together for years before school and then are often in the same house. They know each other before the contracts are finalized.”
“And if one decides they don’t want to marry the other? If they find someone else?” Hermione pressed.
“That varies according to the House, dear. Most of the time, the contracts are simply voided with no bad feelings if both are willing to separate.”
“And if there are bad feelings?” Hermione asked, “This whole show is about what a scandal canceling a contract can be. I even think I remember something being in the paper about a marriage contract causing a feud between two Houses.”
“Well, yes, sometimes it can cause issues with the Houses if there are other business contracts that are also included in the marriage, but generally, they’re meant to be love matches that help both Houses continue to prosper.” Mr. Weasley put in resting a hand on his wife’s shoulder to calm her, “My parents were contracted and had a wonderful marriage.”
“It’s an honor to be contracted.” Mrs. Weasley snapped, starting to gather up the loose newspaper that had been strewn around the living room.
“You weren’t contracted, were you, Mr. Weasley?” Harry asked, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground.
“No, Molly and I meet in school. We were married not long after we both graduated." he said with a fond smile towards his wife, “My parents had talked about contracting to other families but decided to put it off until after graduation. If we hadn’t found someone by then, they would have started to look into contracts, but most of our family marriages had been contracts or love matches made during school.”
“Is it unusual to wait so late?” Hermione asked, making some kind of note on a spare scrap of parchment.
“It depends on the families involved. Some do informal contracts that aren’t made official until after graduation; others become official at eighteen. It varies depending on the Houses, the age of the children, and how complicated the contracts are.”
“My parents weren’t contracted, were they?” Harry asked.
“No, your parents were a love match. I believe that your father had been contracted as a young child, but with the war going on, a lot of those contracts were canceled due to deaths and families fleeing the war.”
Harry gave a hum of acknowledgment and settled back into his chair. His father was originally contracted to marry someone else, and with the war, the contract was canceled, leaving him able to marry Lily sometime later. He let the rest of the conversation continue around him as he considered the twists of fate that had brought his own life about. Lily hated James Potter until he finally grew out of the spoiled rich boy persona and started acting his age.
Had James been as en-spelled and potioned as Harry? Was the devil-may-care attitude he’d been known for just a result of Dumbledore’s manipulations, or had that not started until Harry’s generation? So far, the only ones of that generation that had been found with personality-altering spells on them were from Slytherin.
The fact was that he knew very little about his parents and what went on during their lives. Everything he’d heard was from second or third hand; neither had appeared to keep a journal that he’d found, beyond a rambling one from James that hadn’t been updated much past his first year and most of the adults he knew were reluctant to talk about that time with how many of their own loved ones they’d lost.
He knew he looked a lot like his father, that he had his mother’s eyes. His mother loved potions and ancient runes and wanted to be a researcher or teacher. His father had wanted to be an auror but worked for the Order instead. James Potter donated the maximum amount he could withdraw from the estate accounts during the short time he was Head of House to help fund the fight against the Dark Lord and drained his trust vaults before that to do the same. After Harry’s grandparent’s death, the Manor was sealed, and they never returned. In a few short months, they both would be dead.
His parents ran from the sanctuary of Potter Manor to Godric’s Hollow, where Dumbledore set the secret keepers and wards. They died when the Dark Lord attacked and brought down the wards around the house that Dumbledore promised was safe. He’d known that Sirius wasn’t the secret keeper, and yet Dumbledore let him go to prison without a trial; the Head of the British wizarding court system let an innocent man spend years in prison without a trial.
Even with the proof of the Dark Lord shoved in the Minister’s face, the government was still denying he existed. No preparations were being made for the war or to prevent the increasing attacks that the government refused to believe were happening. When Voldemort finally made his move, most of the population would be vulnerable, like sheep waiting to be slaughtered.
Harry wasn’t sure there was much he could do. They could continue the Defense Association so that the students were at least minimally able to defend themselves in an attack, but he couldn’t protect everyone. Even at Hogwarts, many students refused to believe what was in front of their noses; they were too used to being led along by Dumbledore and other figures of authority.
The wizarding world as a whole seemed to have forgotten how to think for themselves, and Harry didn’t know how to change that, he’d have to see if Hermione had any insights. There had to be a small way to get wizards to start using their minds. Maybe they could start a small contest in the paper or club at Hogwarts to answer questions, forcing them to learn to research issues. It was something to consider.
He glanced over at Hermione, who was back buried in a book while Crookshanks watched from the top of her chair. Ginny was halfheartedly reading a gossip magazine while Ron played a game of chess with himself. Harry excused himself and went to get cleaned up before bed. Ron was pulling on his pajamas when he came back into the room, and they said goodnight. Crookshanks wandered in after a while and settled in, purring softly to keep Harry company.
Once Ron had been snoring for about an hour, Harry dug out his letter box and spent the next few hours sending responses to Gold Kris and his lawyers. Several settlements on the Harry Potter merchandise had been offered, and the worst of the junk would be pulled from stores immediately. The booksellers were offering to include them in the royalties, but Harry wanted a warning on each book proclaiming them fictional accounts. Blacktooth was going to earn himself a bonus if he continued hard-lining the companies who’d tried to use the Boy Who Lived as a marketing tool, they’d already doubled the money set aside to repair the Potter properties.
Hastings and Forsyth sent word of the Black and Potter investments and changes that they wanted approval for. The repairs on the warehouses and docks would be complete by next year, just in time for the big reveal. They also were interested in investing in several up-and-coming businesses, and he asked them to send him more information so he could make a decision. More properties had been leased out since he was willing to have the wards upgraded before the new families arrived.
Gold Kris sent word that the Longbottoms and Lovegoods were both having their estate wards reworked and strengthened at the reduced price the bank was offering for those Houses willing to sign vows that they were not aligned with the Dark Lord; in truth, Harry was covering the difference with several goblin artifacts that he was willing to return to the Goblin nation in return for his allies having the best protections available.
Both families had been through the magical purge, and Madam Longbottom was ready to rip Dumbledore’s beard off but had agreed to wait until the lawsuits could be presented. Instead, she seemed determined to undermine the Headmaster any way she could in the Wizengamot and the Ministry; she’d been picking apart the laws he’d voted for all summer, forcing them to remove the more damaging clauses.
Harry wrote out a letter to Neville and Luna asking how their summers were going and that he hoped to see them on the train next week. He’d already sent both of them detection bracelets when he sent Neville his birthday gift. He’d sent Harry a massive book on Herbology since he’d mentioned that he wanted to brush up on his knowledge to get his grades up with a note promising to help him study if he wanted.
Harry sent a few questions to the quiet teenager, hoping to get honest answers on how things were truly done in a pureblood home. Neville agreed that a Head of House could use House magic to control the members, but it was seen as a final extreme measure to curb the behavior of a member. Most families considered its use to be rather scandalous, and it was unheard of to force a child into compliance using the House magic.
He’d explained about how most contracted marriages worked, which was much how Mr. Weasley said: they grew up together, and when they both graduated or came of age, they started openly courting and eventually married. It also depended on how traditional the Houses were; many still used the complicated rituals of courtship and House manners, which used gifts and specific dates to court new members or even business partners. These dances of politics could go on for years, with each gift expressing a wish or intent for how the relationship is progressing, the longest was 300 steps, while the more simple ones could last a month or go as long as ten years.
Most Houses followed the smaller rituals of exchange, but in general, they had fallen out of favor. The gifts became increasingly personal and complex as the rituals went on, moving from exchanges of enchanted pens and flowers to wands that, when broken, would break the neck of the giver or stones that would summon the nearest House member to assist in a battle. Only the most magically talented or wealthy House could keep up with the exchanges.
Neville was starting one of the longer exchanges with Luna since they were starting a contract and formal courtship. They would exchange gifts for every magical holiday this year as well as for both of their birthdays, with each exchange expressing something they wanted their union to be. Harry was tempted to use a similar exchange meant for friendship to bind Hermione to his family as a vassal or have her declared as under his protection. He’d have to loan her a book about it and see if she was willing.