Chapter Text
"Ready to go, darling?" asked Sirius when Haron met him in Hogsmeade.
Haron shuffled away from his side to look up at him with a wide grin and a nod.
"I haven't apparated before," he confided, a hint of nerve seeping through the careful tone of his voice.
"I don't imagine you would have," murmured his adoptive father, squeezing his shoulder as he undoubtedly thought about the unsaid reasons for his lack of experience in the practice. "It's not going to be pleasant, but I'll do my best to make the ride as smooth as possible. Speaking of ride, did you know I own a flying motorbike? A 1959 Triumph 650 T 120 Bonneville, though I doubt you'd care about the particulars."
The teenager whistled. "Did you do the enchantments yourself? I doubt that's legal."
Sirius laughed. "Yes I did, and no, it isn't. Well, it's in a legal grey area, I'd say, and an awkward grey area to boot. You're allowed to own charmed objects as long as you don't intend to use them, which means I can keep my bike as long as I don't fly it."
"I'd imagine they'd be wary of enchanted machinery," hummed Haron. Iron and polymers had anti-magic properties, which made the application of magic on this type of material hazardous at best and dangerous at worst. He could understand why the Ministry would rather avoid it. "What makes it awkward?"
"That law didn't exist at the time I charmed the bike. Arthur Weasley passed it about five years ago."
Haron frowned. He distinctly remembered Charlie and Ron getting in trouble for using a flying car. He said as much to his father. Sirius barked out a laugh.
"I know, that's why I say it's awkward. Arthur's a good man, but I definitely find that decision of his interesting. His department directly deals with the issues that come up when magical objects end up in muggle hands so I understand why he passed that law, but including a loophole that would let him keep his own vehicle is a little... self-serving, don't you think? He's not nearly as lenient when he leads raids looking for Dark artefacts." Sirius grimaced. "Nevermind that. We should go, the house is waiting. Brace yourself against me, darling, and try to hold your breath."
The young wizard did as he was told, but he was still not prepared for disapparition. The sensation of something tugging at his navel, the disorientation and the terrible feeling of being discorporated only lasted a second, but it was enough to tangle his stomach into knots. When they apparated, Harry leaned forward and heaved.
Sirius murmured nonsensical soothing noises, rubbing his back.
"Okay, darling?"
Haron nodded, raising himself up. He looked around. They'd apparated in a pocket park in a residential area, hiding behind bushes to avoid drawing the eyes of muggles. The crack-like sound of apparition had scared a few birds, which Haron could see eyeing them with baleful stares.
Sirius gently led him out of the park and into the street. "Welcome to Square Grimmauld, Islington," he said with a crooked grin. "My childhood neighbourhood. I say this, but I was the only one who interacted with the neighbours. Mother never found out, thankfully. I'm not sure what she would have done if she'd found out it wasn't Gryffindor who'd corrupted me. Burnt down the townhouse maybe," he said, waving a hand towards two houses bearing the numbers 11 and 13. "Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Your new home, now that it no longer looks like a mausoleum. Only if you like it, of course," he rushed to add. "Otherwise we'll have to look at the other family properties, or buy an entirely new thing, I'll have to do some research."
Haron cut him off with a grin. "It sounds like I'm not the one in need of convincing." Sirius' expression turned sheepish. "We don't need to stay here if this place has too many bad memories," he assured, having a sudden inkling of what might be causing his father's hesitation.
He wasn't sure he could have borne living in Privet Drive even after refurbishing it. He probably would have passed by the cupboard under the stairs every day and heard whispers of the word freak. He couldn't have stood in the kitchen without feeling like he was doing something wrong by pouring himself a glass of water or cooking for himself. He would have felt the tingling of a hand tearing at his hair in the garden, tugging him towards the petunias with orders to tend to them before the day was out.
"Don't worry about me, love. This house has many good memories too, you know? Reggie was there and seeing him grow from a little whiny toddler to a pouty teenager in these walls was wonderful. It'll be a privilege to see you to adulthood here as well."
Haron blinked rapidly before nodding silently. Love came so easy to Sirius, he didn't know how he did it.
He certainly had no such good memories in Privet Drive.
"Let's go, dad," he murmured, tugging at his father's arms.
Sirius made a choking sound before leading him along. He cast a notice-me-not charm before making a movement with his hand. The Black family magic stirred and a minute later, Number 12, Grimmauld Place was conjured from thin air.
The building stood out from the others. It was much less dilapidated for one, the facade of the Edwardian building almost gleaming in comparison with the grimy greyed-out bricks surrounding it. Sirius tugged him along and unlocked the door with a simple touch of the handle.
The entrance hall was bright and welcoming, painted white and decorated with mahogany furniture and red and yellow stained glass lamps. It was a mix of tasteful and welcoming that reminded Haron of Hogwarts.
"We used to have a troll leg coat rack, it was a hideous thing," commented Sirius as he took his shoes off.
Haron imitated him.
"That sounds... unsanitary."
"Hm, my mother had terrible taste."
Sirius tensed, as if waiting for a blow before laughing it off. He told Haron about his mother's horrid portrait and the renovations he had needed done to move it out of the house. As he did so, he took his son from room to room, showing off the new decorations as he went and commented on where things used to be. So far, cream and white paint, mahogany wood and gold finishes seemed to reign supreme, with an emphasis on comfort and understated elegance that Haron found very charming. He especially liked the living room, with its huge brown couches and the dark fireplace at the centre of the room.
"I haven't figured out how to put a TV in a magical home, but that will be a project for later. I want to have movie nights without going to the cinema from time to time."
"Sounds great," mumbled Haron before opening the dining room, unwilling to let Sirius see him blinking back tears at this easy assumption of future family nights.
"There's a ballroom further to the back. Reggie insisted I keep as it is and it's all silver chandeliers, mirrors and gleaming floors so I guess it's not terrible, though I'm still not sure why we need a ballroom here when we already have a bloody castle for that kind of thing."
Haron teased him about how casual he was about the Rook and House Black's dominion over the magical city of Blackmoore.
They made short work of the ground floor, then Sirius took him to the basement, where there were a potions lab, a ritual room, a wine cellar, a very well-stocked pantry and servants' quarters.
"The house elves used to live there," said Sirius, pointing to the rooms at the back. "But Kreacher's the only one who might live there — he's technically free but he still follows Reggie around like he hasn't been given clothes — and I'm not planning on contracting another one, so I'm not too sure what to do with it. I'm planning on setting up a self-cleaning array to take care of the upkeep and employ caterers if we ever need to host, so servants won't be necessary, but that's something to figure out for later." At Haron's pleading look he added with a good-natured sigh, "Yes you can look at the array."
The first floor had two offices, an indoor garden and a library. The offices were decked out in dark wood and Slytherin green wallpaper while the library was silver and baby blue with shelves of light wood. Haron ran his hands along the spines appreciatively, eyeing up the cozy armchairs with excitement.
"That's wonderful. Very Ravenclaw," he noted, which had his father winking at him.
The second floor held the bedrooms. Sirius teased Haron by showing him the guestrooms first, then Regulus' and his rooms, polar opposites and still sporting very obvious Hogwarts House biases.
Haron's room was next to Sirius', and meticulously decorated with a private library, a writing desk, a large wardrobe and the most comfortable bed he'd ever seen. While Haron expected to see blue everywhere, he was pleasantly surprised to find that aside from a dark blue and bronze mural behind his bed, the room was more neutral than he'd expected.
"I was very tempted to go overboard but I want you to decorate this place however you want. It's yours, after all. You should feel at ease here," nervously explained Sirius. "Do you like it?"
The teenager smiled brightly.
"I love it."
After Haron, Su-a and Padma received Hermione's extensive letters of apology and accepted the sentiment behind them, they met for Charlie's first training session.
They obtained Professor McGonagall's permission to use an abandoned classroom between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw Towers, and set up there to put Haron's brother through his paces.
Padma was excited. Not that she cared about training up the one she'd taken to calling the lesser twin. She wanted him alive, of course, it would hurt her friend too much if something happened to Charlie, but she didn't particularly wish to see him win. She was rooting for Fleur instead, which would be very un-patriotic of her if Padma actually cared about such things. As far as she was concerned, Cedric had terrible taste in women, she hadn't yet forgiven Charlie for enabling his terrible friends and generally being an ass even if he was a good brother, and Viktor was a little too dour for her taste. She'd cheer if they won of course, but she would be much happier if the French witch showed them all what women were capable of.
Now she was more excited for the chance to see Haron duel. Her friend came alive when he did; it was always a delight to witness.
Not that she had seen him duel often. It had only happened a handful of times in third-year; Robert Hilliard, Ravenclaw's best prefect and the man who single-handedly saved Haron's sanity before Padma and Su-a got there used to ask people to duel him when he was feeling anxious. Few people ever took him up on his offer, rarely wishing to be humiliated, but Haron didn't care about losing. He just wanted to help the person who had always helped him.
Rob used to be scared of hurting Haron at first, but he soon found out that for all Haron lacked the spell repertoire of a seventh-year, he had lightning-fast reflexes and his spells packed a punch even at thirteen-year-old.
They both learned a lot from it. Haron taught himself to be creative and make use of his terrain — rather than always using Expelliarmus like he did the first times — and Rob had to get faster and faster to keep up with the monster he had created. Su-a and Padma used to have so much fun watching them, and she dearly hoped these training sessions would bring similar joy.
Little did she know, it would be even better.
For all of Haron's skills and his adaptability, Rob had too many years on him. He lost more than he won and struggled to bridge the gap. But Charlie and Haron were on an even keel, with Haron having the slight edge given to him by his previous experience duelling Rob and the amount of spellbooks he devoured.
They were thrilling to watch. Hermione certainly agreed; she was writing down spells furiously on a parchment, cross-referencing the notebook Haron had brought with his ideas, focusing on general duelling spells, as well as charms to disable enchantments and survive hostile environments. Su-a had added general spells targeted towards magical creatures, and Padma her own potion ideas focusing on abjuration, reinforcement and healing. They'd made sure to avoid organising it into a lesson plan, Haron having apparently been warned by Charlie that Hermione was very particular about that kind of thing and more likely to gut the entire thing and remake it, which sounded rude to Padma but was ultimately not her problem. She would let the Boy-Who-Lived handle his bestie, she had her hands full with hers.
Said girl was almost frothing at the mouth from excitement, which had Padma and Su-a exchanging looks and pointedly focusing on the duel, where Haron was correcting Charlie as he went in a kindly professor's tone which was obviously annoying his twin, though the boy was self-aware enough to keep it to himself. It wasn't patronising at all, but his voice showed this quiet confidence that made it obvious that he had more experience, which was always jarring to hear from someone their own age.
Padma didn't think Haron was doing it on purpose, that was just his default state when he felt confident explaining something. She and Su-a had dealt with the same issue when their friend had started teaching them the Patronus charm.
Besides, considering Charlie was more used to Hermione's lecturing tone, the Ravenclaw witch rather thought this was preferable.
The boys lowered their wands after Charlie fumbled a spell he was previously very confident using due to exhaustion, and came back to the girls to do some theoretical learning.
"That was really cool, guys," gushed Su-a, earning herself a fond grin from Haron and a flattered once over from Charlie before the boy abruptly remembered the Korean girl not only had a boyfriend but also was one of his brother's best friends and grimaced.
Padma narrowed her eyes at him. Charlie mouthed an apology, his expression sheepish. She nodded at him. She understood Su-a was really pretty so she wouldn't hold it against him as long as he stayed respectful. She did note that the boy was extremely susceptible to flattery. That explained how he ended up hanging out with the three stooges, she supposed.
(Which was a little unfair of her. Seamus, Dean and Ron weren't exactly sycophants. They obviously had their own interests. Dean with his art, Ron with chess and Seamus with whatever he did when he wasn't looking at Lavender's tits. They just also happened to act like Charlie was the greatest thing since the invention of the cauldron every time anything to do with Quidditch or DADA was mentioned.
Padma had once heard Seamus argue with Ernie McMillan that Charlie would win a duel against Professor Flitwick without issue, like the Head of House Ravenclaw wasn't a duelling champion.)
"I guess you're not totally hopeless, Potter," teased Padma, keeping her smile friendly. She wasn't Draco Malfoy, please.
But she'd be watching him.
Trouble started when Charlie found out from Hagrid that the first task was dragons.
He thought about telling Ron about it, certain that his best friend would stop being mad at him if he just told him what he was facing. He was less sure about Dean and Seamus, though he was more confident about the former than the latter, but he was pretty confident that Ron would get it then. They'd known each other since they were eight, there was no way he'd keep scowling at him like that if he knew, right?
In the end, he'd been too much of a coward to confront his friend. Instead, he'd donned the invisibility cloak and made his way to Ravenclaw Tower, where an eagle door knocker asked him, "What goes up but never comes down?"
Ten minutes later, he was still arguing with the dumb thing, "— blimey I don't know, it could be anything! Who thought it was a good idea to put a riddle instead of a password to enter a bloody common room? What if the students have to go to the loo, do they have to wait for ages until someone comes in?"
Charlie blinked. He thought about what he just said.
"Bloody hell. What goes up and not down, it's age isn't it?"
The eagle blinked. The door opened.
"That was so stupid," he muttered, creeping in, only to stop short when he realised he didn't know which dorm his brother slept in.