Chapter Text
All was not well. Harry knew his friends were worried about him, or at least, Hermione was worried about him. After the war was done, after Voldemort was killed, Harry had thought he could have a normal life. He had taken Kingsley’s offer and had entered Auror training with Ron, he lived Grimmauld Place (which was yet to be completely renovated) with his two best friends, and he and Ginny were doing well. He should have been happy, right?
But no, Harry was still having nightmares months after the war ended, or he was having nightmares when he could sleep at all. Not even two weeks into Auror training Harry knew that he couldn’t do it, he kept having flashbacks to the war, to walking into the Forbidden Forest to his death, to all his family dying right before his eyes. Kingsley, Hermione and Ron understood, the rest of the Wizarding World didn’t, Ginny didn’t. She tried but…
There were tears when they broke up, Ginny’s tears. Harry was numb to the break up, like he had been numb to everything since the war. “I’m sorry Harry…” She had already started to cry and she hadn’t even gotten the words out, “I want to be there for you but I can’t. You’re not the same anymore!”
“I know and I want to be better but I can’t. Gin, I don’t know how.” Harry didn’t want to see her cry, he hated seeing anyone cry especially if it was because of him, “Gin, I know what you’re trying to say and it’s fine. I want you to be happy, one of us has to be, right?” She had cried harder at that, hugged him tightly, and had returned to the Burrow.
Ron was furious at Ginny when he heard, “I can’t believe she would do that to you mate! After everything you’ve gone through with the war?”
Hermione was crying and looked like she had wanted to hug Harry, “Oh Harry… I’m so sorry I knew how you felt about her.”
Harry flinched, he didn’t want his friends to worry about him any more than they already were, “No, that’s- that’s not what happened. Ginny was upset, I’m the one who actually said the words that broke us up.” He shrugged, “It was for the best, we weren’t… happy anymore.” That was a lie, being with Ginny had been the only thing that made Harry feel anything anymore. She made him happier than he had been in a long time. “Look, I’ll be fine. I’ll go back to Hogwarts with you Hermione, we’ll finish up our seventh year and I’ll find a job somewhere, that’s not an Auror.”
That seemed to cheer his friends up a bit more and Hermione immediately started telling Harry what he had to do in order to get ready for his return to Hogwarts. “You’ll have to owl Headmistress McGonagall, she’ll be so glad to see you Harry! And we’ll have to go to Diagon to get your books… and have you thought about getting a new owl? Or maybe not an owl-” She continued on her rant, even when Ron turned to Harry and drew his attention away from her.
“Blimey Harry, it’s weird enough not going through training with you… Now I’ll have to be alone with Kreacher too?” The ginger smiled; Kreacher, despite doing his job wonderfully and helping to redo the entirety of Grimmauld Place, was still a miserable house elf. Although he also refused all of Harry’s efforts of being set free, the three friends just assumed that the grouchier Kreacher was, the more he cared.
“Sorry Ron, I don’t know what I’m going to do if I don’t go back to Hogwarts. I can’t just sit around here all the time.” He shrugged half-heartedly, both Ron and Hermione knew that Harry spent more days in his room than not.
Ron sighed, “I know mate, I’ll just miss you both alright?” The ginger smiled at his best friend and girlfriend.
“We’ll miss you too, Ron.” Hermione smiled and leaned in to give her boyfriend a kiss. Harry looked away, it wasn’t that he was upset that his friends had gotten together, Merlin knew it was a long time coming, it was just that being there when they were being more intimate made Harry feel uncomfortable. Intimacy in itself made Harry uncomfortable actually, growing up he had never really been touched before, unless you count Vernon Dursley’s hard handed hits.
Harry coughed softly, drawing his friends’ attention back to the conversation, “I’m sorry ‘Mione… but I don’t think I can make it to Diagon Alley with you.”
Hermione nodded sympathetically ever since the end of the war, Diagon Alley, or any wizarding place, made Harry extremely anxious. If he had thought their hero-worship was bad before…
“It’s alright! I’ll take Ron with me, we’ll make a date out of it.” She smiled a toothy grin, effectively shutting down any complaints that were going to come out of the ginger.
⚡
Harry woke up after Ron and Hermione had already left for Diagon Alley. He stumbled downstairs, still half asleep and pulling jeans up over his legs at the same time. On his way to the kitchen he almost tripped over Kreacher who was busy dusting the bookshelves in the sitting room.
“Kreacher has made Master Harry breakfast.” The old house elf mumbled and shuffled around the room.
“Thank you Kreacher.” Harry smiled, carefully stepped around Kreacher and continued on his way to the kitchen.
“Gifts were left for Master Harry,” Kreacher said, “Kreacher put them on the table, checked gifts for spells too.”
Harry froze, why were there gifts for him? “Kreacher, what day is it?” His eyes landed on the kitchen table, at least fifteen gifts lay on it, piled precariously upon each other.
“Master Harry’s birthday. Mistress Hermione is being planning something for evening, she is. Kreacher been told to say nothing on the matter by Master Ron.” He was shocked, how was it already his birthday? “Kreacher, who are all these from?” He approached the pile cautiously.
“Friends and family of Master Harry.” Kreacher turned and continued his chores, as if he were dismissing Harry.
Harry caught a glimpse of the names on the tags from his viewpoint he could read Charlie’s name along with Molly and Arthur’s, George’s, Hagrid’s, he even saw Bill and Fleur's along with Andromeda’s neat scrawl which spelled out Teddy’s name. Harry couldn’t help but smile, a real smile for the first time in what felt like weeks. After the first eleven years of his life, Harry still had a hard time believing that people really did love him. The smell of coffee and bacon forced Harry to ignore the gifts, however he did grab the envelope that had Dean Thomas’ name scrawled across the tag.
As he ate his breakfast, Harry looked over the piece of parchment in his hand. It had taken a long while for Dean to finalize everything that Harry had envisioned, but it was finally finished. After the war Harry had decided he wanted to honor his family, so he enlisted Dean’s artistic help to draft an intricate tattoo. When Dean had asked what Harry wanted, all Harry said was that he wanted to honor his family. Dean had smiled, and went on to ask him about Remus, Sirius, and his parents.
The end result was better than he could have ever imagined. It would start on his right shoulder: an enchanted moon that would match the phases as the real one as a memory to Remus would take up the majority of his upper arm, below that would be enchanted pawprints that would walk around his arm that would shift from paw prints to footprints at random intervals, on the inside of his forearm would be a buck that would be a mirror image of his own patronus for his father, beside that would be his mother’s doe patronus, these two would be enchanted to twirl and run around the circumference of his forearm. Harry knew he would continue to add onto the tattoo as the years went on, but this was a good start. So many people had died so he could defeat Voldemort, and he wanted to honor them.
A knock on the window pulled Harry out of his thoughts. He looked up to see a beautiful, if somewhat frightening, eagle owl perched outside the kitchen window. The owl had a package tied to its leg and seemed to be giving Harry a rather condescending glare. Harry looked at the owl in trepidation, he didn’t recognize it and his house was still under the Fidelius Charm.
“Kreacher, can you please check that owl?” Harry cringed when the old house elf popped into the kitchen, he always felt bad for having to ask Kreacher to do something. Harry had grown up having to do almost everything by himself in Private Drive, old habits die hard.
“Of course Master Harry, Kreacher will be checking and making sure the gift is safety for Master to open.” Kreacher hobbled over to the window, which opened with a snap of his fingers, and retrieved the slim package from the leg of the owl.
While Kreacher did different revealing charms and anti-potion spells on the package, Harry finished the breakfast that had been prepared for him and thought of his soon-to-be tattoo. “The gift is being from Malfoy Manor.” Kreacher’s croaking voice brought Harry back to the present.
Harry froze, “What do you mean? There must be some mistake Kreacher.”
The old house-elf shook his wrinkly head, “Kreacher be making no mistakes Master Harry, the gift is being from Malfoy Manor and is being perfectly safe for Master Harry.” With shaking hands (why was he shaking so much?) Harry took the package from Kreacher. A small card was attached to the top, in looping writing it said:
Mr. Potter,
I wish to thank you for what you have done for my son and I. We had not dared dream that we would be free after the war and with your kind words, you let us have the freedom we didn’t know we would have. As a thank-you, I wish to send my regards on your birthday, and a small token of my gratitude. My son found it while cleaning out the library and we both agreed that it would be best to give it to its rightful owner. I know this does not come close to paying you back for what you have done, but it would be my honor if you would accept this gift.
Sincerely, Narcissa Malfoy.
Harry’s breath was coming out in small pants by the time he finished the short letter. In a flash he was brought back to the trials that had taken place after the war. He had spoken on both Narcissa’s and Draco’s behalf and saved them from being sentenced to Azkaban along with the rest of the Death Eaters. Harry told the story about Draco on the Astronomy Tower, how he was a scared kid that was doing what he had to do to survive, how he was doing what he had to do to save his family, just like Harry. Harry told everyone how he knew that Draco recognized him at the Manor that day. He told everyone how Narcissa Malfoy lied to Voldemort and allowed Harry to finally finish the war. With his testimony, Harry had helped save the two Malfoy’s from rotting away in Azkaban.
Harry took the package from Kreacher with shaking hands, and slowly peeled away the light green wrapping paper to reveal a black leather bound book. He held the book with trembling fingers and looked at the design embossed on the binding, ‘de figulus luti’ was written in gold the part of Harry’s brain that had started to understand the meaning of the latin spells figured out that the flowing writing meant “potter about”.
The old binding cracked slightly when Harry opened it but he paid it no mind, because on the first page was the name “Linfred of Stinchcombe (the potterer)”. He was confused, why would Malfoy send him such an odd book?
Harry continued to leaf through the book, on each page was a new name, each with the last name Potter, each with a small note to which how they were related to Linfred of Stinchcombe and what they had done during their lives. Apparently, Linfred has six sons, five of which had died young. Hardwin Potter was the lone survivor of them, and ended up marrying Iolanthe Peverell. Hardwin and Iolanthe had three daughters and one son, when the three daughters passed away, the son was the only one who grew old enough to have his own children. The trend went on for every generation after that, parents would have several children but only one would live long enough to sire children. Harry didn’t notice he was crying until he saw teardrops on the page that showed his grandfather, Fleamont Potter. He saw his own name when he reached the last page, it was written in the same curling handwriting as all the others. This book… This book showed his entire family history, something Harry had never known, had never had a chance to know. He had not even realized that such a book existed.
He slid to the floor, his back against the kitchen cupboards and he hugged the book to his chest like a lifeline. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, or how many times he flipped through the book, but he came back to himself when he heard Hermione’s soft gasp from the kitchen door.
“Harry, what are you doing? You’re not even properly dressed!” Harry looked up at his friends, Hermione’s dark hair seemed even more wild as she bustled about the kitchen to sift through his gifts and organize them in neat piles.
“Hey mate, what’s wrong?” Ron’s kind brown eyes tracked over Harry’s face, finally noticing his puffy red eyes and dried tears.
“Um… I got a gift… From Malfoy and his mum.” Harry sniffled and rubbed tiredly at his eyes, “It, uh, it’s a book.”
“Why would Malfoy give you a present?” Hermione peered down at Harry, trying to get a look at the gift.
“I guess it was in their library or something…” He shrugged and clutched the book tighter, it felt too private to share, even with his best friends, “Anyway, it-” he looked down at the cover and smiled softly, “It has my family in it.”
Ron and Hermione shared a look, “Er… What do you mean, mate?” Ron was the first one to speak.
“I mean that the entire Potter line is written in these pages. I guess since technically, the Potter’s are purebloods, or were, they have a book of family history.” Harry showed his friends the book, “My family motto is literally ‘potter about’.”
Hermione looked shocked, “That’s amazing Harry!”
“I didn’t know the bloody git could be so considerate.” Ron mumbled, referring to the fact that Malfoy had given him the book.
Harry nodded, still thumbing through the pages, “Did you know that my grandfather, Fleamont Potter, was the one who invented Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion? And my great-grandfather, Henry, he was a member of the Wizengamot.” Harry was rambling, he knew, but he couldn’t stop. For years, Harry had wondered what his paternal family was like, and now he knew. He had every single one of them right in his hands, “And the first Potter ever, Linfred of Stinchcombe was the inventor of the rudimentary versions of both Skele-gro and PepperUp Potion, every single one of my ancestors has done something worthwhile.” He smiled broadly and showed his best friends the last page of the book.
Harry James Potter- The Boy Who Lived to Defeat the Dark Lord
“I feel more connected to them now… It’s silly I know but-” Harry was cut off by the bushy hair of Hermione covering his face as she hugged him tightly.
“Harry, it’s not silly at all, that is amazing. I’m so happy for you. I haven’t seen you smile like this since- in a long time.” Hermione gave a small smile, her white teeth shone brightly against her dark skin.
“Yeah Harry, I’m glad you get to know your dad’s family.” Ron smiled broadly from where he was still standing near the entryway of the kitchen.
Once Hermione had finally released him out of her crushing grip Harry stood up and approached the table again. “How was Diagon? You guys didn’t get attacked by the press did you?” Despite Harry being the more famous of the three, Ron and Hermione were both constantly hounded by the Daily Prophet and other publications like it.
“It wasn’t so bad once ‘Mione told them all that she would sue each and every one of their publications for ‘frankly a blatant disregard for the privacy of war veterans and a complete neglect of the need for personal space.’” Ron looked at his girlfriend and Harry would practically see the hearts in his friend's eyes.
Hermione blushed prettily, “Well if I can barely get into Flourish and Blotts to get my school supplies then they’re not really respecting our personal lives very well are they? They expect us to dance for them like circus monkeys!”
“Please tell me you actually told them that.” Harry deadpanned as he imagined the look on Rita Skeeter’s face.
Hermione grinned, “I may have said something like it.” Harry laughed, a real laugh for the first time in what felt like months.
“Alright mate,” Ron smiled a toothy grin, “get up and get dressed, we’re going out.”
Harry raised an eyebrow, “We are?” He looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione, they both looked smug, which was never a good thing.
“Yes Harry it’s your 18th birthday and you haven’t really left the house in weeks, so we are going out.” Hermione helped Harry up off the floor and ushered him out of the kitchen, “So get dressed, and put on something nice!”
Harry laughed softly as he went back upstairs and started looking through his closet. Ever since he finally moved away from the Dursley's, Harry had thrown out every piece of clothing he had been forced to wear from Dudley. With the weighty inheritance he had gotten from his parents Harry was able to completely redo his wardrobe, with the help of Hermione and Ginny of course. He looked down at the jeans he was currently wearing, they were ripped in several places and faded by bleach stains along the legs, so not what Hermione meant by “something nice”.
He pulled on a clean pair of dark blue jeans, they were snug, but according to Ginny they made his arse “look bloody amazing, really Harry”, with this he paired a dark green button up shirt that, apparently, made his eyes pop even more; it felt a bit baggy, which was okay but strange as it was till pretty new. For the final touch he pulled on Sirius’ old leather jacket, magically resized to fit Harry. With a quick look in the mirror, Harry dubbed himself dressed nicely enough for even Hermione’s standards, and went back downstairs to meet his friends.
When Harry reentered the kitchen he saw his friends peering at a scrap of parchment on the counter, he froze, he had forgotten about the tattoo in his excitement for the Potter Book. It wasn’t that he didn’t want his friends to know about the tattoo, it was that Harry had so few things in life that were truly his own, and he had wanted this tattoo to be his even if for just a little bit. “Er… guys?” Harry felt awkward just standing there as his friends looked at the tattoo that Harry wanted.
Hermione was the first to look up, and her eyes were slightly red, “Oh Harry… This is a wonderful idea, and it’s really beautiful.”
Harry shrugged, “I’m going to add more to it eventually, I want something for Tonks, and Fred and Cedric-” Harry was cut off by Ron rushing over to give him a bruising hug, his face was splotchy and tear streaked. “Er…” Harry stood awkwardly, Ron was never one for emotional outbursts, it was usually Hermione who did things like that.
Ron pulled away with an embarrassed smile on his face, “Sorry about that, I just think that George would love this, everyone would love this.” Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat, “Thanks Ron, I really appreciate that.” Hermione cleared her throat, “Alright, let’s go we can’t keep everyone waiting.”