Losing Harry

Notes: written 21 Sept. 2008; Edited for errors/improvement 12 Feb. 2009. It's a future fic. Thanks to KML for beta-ing this chapter. Written in British English.

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Harry could still remember the first time Albus had talked about his new best friend, Scorpius Malfoy. It had been the summer after Albus' first year at Hogwarts. He had written letters home frequently, and though he had mentioned friends, he had never used names. Later, he confessed it was because he didn't know how his parents would feel.

"And who's this friend?" Harry asked Albus, interrupting his son's story about how he and a friend had been watching the older students play Quidditch.

"My friend?" Albus blinked. He seemed to shrink back out of uncertainty.

Harry and his son sat in Albus' room. James was downstairs with Lily, making dessert with his mum and sister. Harry had gone to find Albus, who had a tendency to disappear - he didn't need near as much socialization as his siblings. He was what many referred to as a loner by nature. Apparently he had made friends at school with whom he spent most of his time though, and Harry was glad for that.

"You said you and your friend snuck into the stands to watch the teams practice?"

"Oh. Yeah. Um, he's...." Albus's voice died off into an undistinguishable murmur.

"What?" Harry asked immediately. Albus was mumbling and running his words together, a habit the boy had when he didn't want someone to know something.

"Scorpius...Malfoy," Albus repeated more clearly, his green eyes darting up to Harry's and holding his father's gaze expectantly.

"Why didn't you just say his name?" Harry asked sincerely. He shifted on the bed where they both sat, Albus's hand tucked into the middle of a book he'd been reading when Harry had interrupted him.

"Er..."

"You're not very good at lying, so don't try," Harry teased.

Al laughed before straightening his features, as through preparing himself for a battle. It was odd, because Albus rarely fought with anyone, except his brother. Harry wondered if that was how he had looked when he was twelve.

"Scorpius is my best friend, Dad."

"Is he?"

Albus started in on another story, beginning from the moment when he had been sorted into Slytherin. He had written home the next day, and again Harry had assured his son of his love and support. Albus had been nervous to be in Slytherin. The rest of his family members were in Gryffindor, and even Lily, who had entered Hogwarts after him, had also been sorted into the red and gold house. Albus was the sole child of all the Potters and Weasleys to be put into Slytherin. It was not unheard of, but certainly strange. Nonetheless, he had made friends, even taking in the Scamander twins the next year as two of his friends, and they were in Ravenclaw. It seemed like the friendships at Hogwarts were no longer bound to Houses.

Harry was glad for that. He had fought for that.

"Then we were going into our rooms and I didn't know any of the boys, but I remembered you talking to Scorpius's dad on the platform. At first Scorpius wouldn't talk to me, and he was kind of...not rude, but not nice either. Then we started showing magic to each other. But we got in a fight later that week, and he asked if I was scared to duel with him, and I told him, 'you wish.' And he laughed, and after that we were friends. We didn't duel at all, which is good because I didn't know how."

Harry smiled at the story, remembering a few stories of his own and wondering briefly at the curiosity of history and its tendency to repeat itself.

"He's really nice, Dad, better than all the Gryffindors. They all think they're better than us."

Harry found it hard to fight off chuckles. It was certainly going to be interesting, having students from opposing Houses in their home.

"Funny, that's what we always thought of the Slytherins," he replied.

"It's not true!" Albus argued. "And we're not mean to everyone. We're not even scary. James pushes around the first years sometimes and laughs at us. We don't bother him."

Harry frowned, making a mental note to be sure he kept his elder son in line.

"Scorpius told me that you and his dad knew each other in school. Is it true?" Albus asked suddenly.

"Well, yeah." Harry shrugged, turning his attention back to the son before him.

"Scorpius says his dad doesn't talk much about you, but once last year the Daily Prophet wrote lies about you, and Mr Malfoy told Scorpius not to believe them. Were you guys friends? I didn't know you had friends in Slytherin. Uncle Ron always tells Hugo and Rose to stay away from us."

Albus' voice held a note of sadness as he made the last statement. Since his Sorting, it was unfortunate that his relationships with his cousins had deteriorated. Though his cousins and siblings were all good people, it still seemed that they were bound to push him into Slytherin's open arms.

"Mr Malfoy and I weren't friends, exactly," Harry told Albus, who was easily able to pick up cues in his father's voice.

"Are you mad that I'm friends with Scorpius?" Albus asked.

"No, of course not." Harry shook his head.

"Mum heard me say his name once and she got really mad. She didn't say anything, but I could tell." Again, Albus was perceptive with his parents' emotions.

"Well, if he's a good friend to you, then he's all right with me." Harry smiled, tousling his son's hair.

The weight of the world seemed to lift off the boy's shoulders.

"So...you were purposely avoiding saying his name so I wouldn't know you were friends with a Malfoy?" Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Er...yes."

"That's very Slytherin of you." Harry laughed. "But how long did you think you could go before you had to give him a name?"

"Er, I don't know." Albus shrugged.

"Your old dad may have been a Gryffindor himself, but remember what I told you before you left for Hogwarts. I was nearly sorted into Slytherin myself. I could have been. Don't think I'm clueless about the Slytherin cunning."

Albus grinned sheepishly.

"I'm proud of you," Harry continued seriously, feeling as though his children should hear those words as often as possible. "And I'm glad you have friends in Slytherin."

The two Potter men shared a smile, and Albus' shoulders seemed noticeably lighter, as if it felt better for someone to finally know of the secret friendship he'd been hiding.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"Do you think I can see Scorpius some time this summer?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, frowning. "We'd have to ask your mum."

"Do we have to? It could be our little secret," Albus pleaded.

Harry laughed. His son was very Slytherin indeed, and very much like Harry himself. But Harry still wasn't sure he wanted to risk any Weasley wrath from his wife.

"Maybe we could invite him over, or I could go see what the Malfoys' is like," Albus continued. "Did you know he doesn't have any brothers or sisters? I think it must be really quiet in their house, not like our house. Scorpius doesn't even have a dog. Do you think he could come over? He said he'd like to meet you. I told him you're just dad, but I guess everyone knows who you are. Did you know everyone knows who you are?"

"Well, I suppose I suspected it," Harry answered his son with a curious look. Albus was growing increasingly talkative, but Harry found that he liked it.

"So, can he come over?"

"We'll see," Harry finally said, then stood and urged his son to come downstairs with him so they could eat the dessert that the others had prepared.

But over the next few years, Albus never went to visit Scorpius, and Scorpius never came to their home, though Albus asked every year. Every summer, every Christmas, and every Easter holiday, Albus asked, but something always came up.

..:..

"Why don't we sell this place?" Ginny asked.

Conversation about their kids at Hogwarts and Albus' stint in the Infirmary had faded. Far away at Hogwarts, Harry even imagined his teenagers tucked in their beds or sprawled out in House common rooms. He was amused as his own envy spiked off the charts for a moment. He pushed the thoughts away though, and tried to replay through his mind what his wife had just said.

"Sell it?" Harry blinked, turning toward the wardrobe as he changed out of his work clothes.

"Yeah. It's so big and ugly... Didn't you say once you might like a different house?" Ginny asked, already in her pajamas and curled up in their oversized bed.

"I...I don't know. It's home now, isn't it?" Harry asked distractedly.

It was number twelve, Grimmauld place, just like it always had been, but yet so very different from how it had been during the years when it had functioned as the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. Harry remembered at one point thinking that he could be rid of the place and never look back, happy to never have to step inside it again. But things had changed once the sharp ache of loss had dulled.

"Sometimes it still creeps me out," Ginny confessed, shivering as if it were one of those moments.

"I guess it grew on me," Harry replied over his shoulder, reaching for pajama pants to slip on. Their master bedroom did have a bit of a draft.

"Really?" Ginny asked.

"There's so much history here," Harry responded, moving to make his way into his half of the bed. "I mean, it's the last place Sirius lived. And Lupin was here so often. We ran the Order of the Phoenix from this place. We spent the summer cleaning it up, and then there's Kreacher, too..."

Harry didn't mention Dobby. Some thought he had taken the loss of the elf a little too hard. There had been a lot of losses, but Harry didn't see why any one of them should be invalidated just because still other, bigger or heavier loss had come afterward.

"But I thought you wanted to be rid of all that stuff. Start fresh, start new. The kids are all at Hogwarts now, and we're never going to get a new place if we don't just go for it. We certainly don't need all this space, do we?" Ginny argued.

Harry wasn't sure how to respond, and thought it over in unmoving silence. Ginny often read too much into his body language or expressions, so he had learned to keep both contained. Sometimes, even after years of marriage, he still felt like he knew nothing about girls.

Except for his little Lily.

"It's not just that," Harry said at last. "I mean, this is the ancient house of the Blacks. It's been in the family forever. And it's magical. Sure, there was Dark magic here, but now it's the Potters' and we can make it whatever we want. You said you were all right with it, after we renovated and redecorated some of the rooms. You have everything you need here, and place for people to stay, when our kids have their own kids and come home for Christmas. And the kids like their own rooms how they are."

Ginny didn't reply.

Harry leaned back against his pillow, thinking and finally deciding that if he shared more, maybe she would understand his attachment. "Sometimes, when I go into the kitchen for coffee, I see Sirius or Lupin there. Not ghosts, not even real images, just, you know, in my mind. Like somehow everyone's still here. Even Fred, and Tonks, and Snape and Dumbledore."

Ginny shifted next to him. She said she understood what Harry had told her about Snape, but something told Harry that few could really understand. There had been something about looking into his eyes that night...

"You would still have the memories, even without the house," she said quietly.

"I like it here."

Harry knew he was being stubborn, but he didn't care. He had given a lot, compromised often, done his best to work out his relationships, but sometimes he came to a no-budging point. It was his house, it had been left to him, and he wanted it. He wanted to live there, wanted to raise his family there, wanted to pass it down through the Potters, forever linking the Blacks and the Potters.

"Harry..." Ginny began to argue.

"Look, if you refuse to live here, just say it!" Harry snapped. "I'm telling you, I want to live here. This place is important to me. It has history like I never had before, and it links together everything and everyone important I ever had in my life. This was Sirius's house, his family, and even if he hated them, it was still his. He grew up here, and he was the only family I ever knew, the only family connecting me to my dad. And so what if his name was blacked out on that tapestry? He gave this place to the Order, and he gave it to me. It was the Blacks' home, and it's going to stay that way. I'm not giving it up to anyone else!"

Ginny's face was tight with defiance.

"You're not even a Black, Harry! You're a Potter!"

"Sirius was my godfather, and as much as he was a Black, so am I!" Harry argued.

"That's the point! Sirius wasn't a Black! His family kicked him out! This house is more Malfoy's than it is yours!"

Harry didn't like going to bed angry, but he didn't know how to end the argument. So instead, he got up, grabbed his dressing gown, and headed downstairs. He just needed some fresh air, maybe another cup of tea.

Malfoy's. That was a joke. Malfoy would never live in a place like this, and he had his own money and mansion, Harry was sure. He wouldn't give the place up to the likes of Malfoy either, though. But Ginny was right, of course. Malfoy's mum had been a Black before she became a Malfoy, and that made Draco a blood relative to Sirius, something Harry would never be. But Sirius, as his godfather, was as much a father as Harry had ever had. And maybe in some bizarre twist of the Fates, it meant that he and Malfoy were related, if not by blood, then in spirit.

It was absurd.

Then again, fate had brought Harry's son and Malfoy's son together, the first time in history that the Potters and Malfoys got along. To be fair, perhaps Harry and Narcissa had led the way with that, or maybe even Harry and Draco. Memories flashed in Harry's mind's eye - memories from Malfoy Manor, and from the burning Room of Requirement, and the Forbidden Forest.

Maybe Harry would ask Albus about inviting Scorpius over. And maybe the boy could bring his mother and father, too.

Harry's stomach tightened in nausea, though. Scorpius couldn't visit and invite his parents over, and Harry knew why. Not completely, but he at least knew more than the others knew. Harry worried about his son when he was away at Hogwarts, and he worried about his son's best friend, too. Harry had only seen the young Malfoy for a short time the week before when the boy had brought some leftovers from dinner to Albus in the Infirmary. Though in appearance, Malfoy did an adequate job of hiding the issues at home from his peers, it didn't work quite as well with Harry, though Harry didn't speak a word of it to the boy and could only offer a listening ear to his own son when Albus mentioned it after his best friend had left the infirmary.

They should have invited the Malfoys over sooner, but they'd wasted time, and now...

Harry shook his head, running his hand through his hair and reaching for his tea. Answers evaded him, but he found himself desperately searching for them. He was distracted though when he felt soft hands on his shoulders and realized that Ginny was there. She had come to join him downstairs. He watched as she made her own cup of tea and then listened to her apology.

"If this is where you want to be, I'm happy to be wherever you are. I'm sorry, love," Ginny said.

"Thanks," Harry said quietly. He smiled to her and they both sipped their tea.

Harry's gaze wandered to the cupboard, and there he saw Sirius. A familiar conversation played through his head, and he closed his eyes, lost in the thoughts.

He had been too late.

He couldn't let it happen again.

He had to do something.