Harry Potter

Intro to Harry Potter

Comfortable sweaters, tousled black hair, nightmares, stubble, scuffed trainers, crumbled dress shirts, blue jeans, round glasses, stress headaches, coffee at midnight, overflowing in-trays, paperwork by candlelight, a sharp tongue, bruises with no memory of getting them, a warm smile, dog eared pages, abandoned projects, guilt, ink stained sleeves, chewed fingernails, dad’s armchair, tired sighs, a spark of anger, quick wit, dad jokes followed by goofy grins, eyes shining with mischief...

She felt the corners of her mouth stretch as he loomed over her where she sat. Beatrice crossed her legs and sat up a little straighter, though she knew she wasn’t going to win against an authority figure. The fight was long lost when he hadn’t taken her complaint about Leah Proudmore seriously, though that had been a warning already of how mismanaged the department was.

“This attack isn’t the only danger,” Beatrice repeated slowly. “Which means your Aurors shouldn’t abandon everyone else for this one case, regardless of whatever’s out there or not. It would be very easy for someone else to figure out that Grindewald was a good enough distraction for the Auror department and decide to take matters in their own hands.”

Her voice had dropped, not because she felt remorse at her accusation, but because she already knew that whatever she said wasn’t going to be heard. She had no hope to be heard by anyone else either, and while it had only been momentarily satisfying to say her piece about how

“Your son deserves the best everything, and it turns out everyone else’s sons deserve nothing. How fair and sensible is that?”

Beatrice didn’t think he would be sorry at all considering that she was here pointing out his lack of judgement already. He didn’t even try and pretend that of course he would spend all this time had someone else been attacked. She made no move to leave, still daring him to hex her out of his office. 

“Nobody else has taken issue because you’re going to question which side they’re on if they do. Go ahead and make your assumptions about me, but do you really believe that someone can have any dissenting opinion when they have to deal with the tantrum you’re having right now?”

Harry could see Beatrice’s outright determination to stand strong, he almost respected it despite the fact that she was obviously furious with him. Anybody with a backbone often worked hard to maintain it, and that demanded a certain degree of admiration. Begrudging or otherwise. “I understand.” He said quietly. “And when new cases arrive, they will be taken on. But for now, my department is lending their focus to the source of the letters.” If they found the source, they found quite possibly the most dangerous group of individuals in the Wizarding World. It benefitted everybody. 

“This department is doing what it exists to do, whether you are able to see that or not.” He assured her, an edge still to his voice. “At no point did I say that.” He glared, endlessly frustrated by the accusations. “There have been no other cases similar to this one, but if something does happen I will be treating it with the same level of urgency.” He wasn’t sure why he was even trying to defend himself at this point. Her mind was clearly made up, she was never going to agree with his methods. 

When she made no move to get up, he stood himself, making his way over to the door so that he could pull it open for her. “This isn’t a tantrum. It’s a response to be questioned for caring about my son.” He snapped. “Get out of my office or I will call Magical Law to escort you out. I won’t hesitate.” 

The longer the conversation went on the more Julian was realizing that he was actually indecisive. He had come in here so sure that he was going to be trained, but it wasn’t the danger he was concerned about. He was okay with possible death or injury—he had been a Quidditch player for over two decades. Julian didn’t think that his spellcasting was that bad as to not go through with this.

Harry Potter did have everyone’s best interests in mind. It wasn’t for everybody. But with threats looming, it certainly felt like they needed everybody. He leaned back to digest all of the information he’s gotten so far, satisfied with his answers. “So I suppose then you’d have to involve Obliviators? Just in case there are incidents of magic being revealed to muggles?”

Obliviators were under the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and as far as Julian was aware they were a cleanup crew for less serious cases. Not enough to have an Auror working a case because there was no crime involved against someone magical.

“The training—it’s three years? What’s the program like? You’ve mentioned what the job was like, but for someone starting, I’m sure it’s different for them, day-to-day, right?” Perhaps he could come back and confirm that yes, he was going to officially apply and interview and help fight Grindelwald—but three years? It wasn’t a long time, but it was it?

“And—” Julian thought to add quickly, in the case that he decided that he wasn’t going to come back to properly interview. “—for anyone who isn’t an Auror, what are the rest of us supposed to be doing? I suppose we can’t expect our law enforcement to come and save us, can we?”

“Obliviators have always worked closely with our department.” Harry explained, impressed by the questions Julian had chosen to ask. It proved how thoughtful he was, how genuinely interested in the Auror career. “Though we do have permits to perform the spells ourselves if the situation becomes desperate. Though legally we can only do so with another member of our department present.” It was too risky otherwise, and far too easy for somebody to try and cover any mistakes they may have made on duty. “Unless it is an absolute emergency, we call in the Obliviators.”

Nodding with a smile at the mention of training lasting three years, he hummed quietly. “Usually, though given the current... state of the world, we are able to push people forward if we need to. If they demonstrate the right level of skill, that is. I trained on the field, others have before me, and I’m sure there will be witches and wizards in the near future who do so as well. It’s a matter of circumstance.”  Thinking quietly for a moment, he nodded again. “Training includes a lot of rigorous testing, you need to show aptitude in Transfiguration, Potions, Apparation, and of course, Defence Against the Dark Arts. You’ll be trained further in the subjects then, and encouraged to explore the ways you feel most comfortable utilising your knowledge. There is a lot of physical training conducted here, but you will also spend time with a Mentor. Depending on what you need personally, we try to alter the courses to suit each individual’s needs. We understand no two people work or learn in the same way.”

Waiting to ensure Julian had taken in the onslaught of information, he recognised a strange determination in him, one he saw in himself. “Brush up on your knowledge.” He said simply. “Practise, study, learn. Add wards to any buildings you want to be safe, and do your best to keep your head down. Unfortunately, that is all any of us can do right now.” 

“Oh it’s riotous from where I’m laying,” Albus replied.  And it was, to him.  The best and worst of bitter humor, coiling in his gut.  Proof that he was a fool.  Proof that maybe, just maybe, these fuckers in black cloaks were right.  That he was a stupid child and…well if being a stupid child got a hug like this, maybe it wasn’t the worst.  It didn’t hurt when Harry scooped him close.  He only half felt it anyway, the stasis spells and the last remnants of something vile seeping out of his blood.  He flashed his dad a look and gave an awkward sound.  “Uh…dad?  You did nothing wrong.  Nothing.  Your team was involved.  A possible and credible threat nearby.” A diversion, but he didn’t need to see that.  His dad would have seen the report.  “Was on me.  Wanted to go out.  Aurors…well thought they were following.” 

Last time he didn’t check for a tail when he left his house, that was for sure.  

“Wouldn’t mind that.  She should do all the wards.  Last thing people need when they’re ill is a shitty, blank wall,” he groused, staring up at the ceiling and pulling a face.  Like…weren’t recovery rooms supposed to inspire more than the endless void?  Really.  He let his eyes drift down and lock on his dad, sending a supremely unimpressed look.  “Lily is upset that I’m not taking the potions prescribed to me.  I object to their fucking awful side effects where there are better combinations to be had.” He raised his good hand and pointed it at his dad.  “And I’ve heard tell of your potions marks.  You don’t get to contradict me on this.  I know my profession.” He grinned brightly.  “Besides, you can’t lose me.  I’m far too stubborn.”

Harry could hear in his son’s tone that he was blaming himself for what had happened. And despite part of him, the angry and bitter part that was absolutely seething over the fact that anybody would dare come after his children, wanted to blame Al...if he had just stayed inside, listened to his advice, maybe this wouldn’t have happened, deep down, he knew that was illogical. And it certainly wasn’t fair. He needed to be there for him, so he was going to be. It really was that simple. “No. It isn’t.” He said firmly, leaning forward as he sat in the visitors chair, resting against the side of the mattress. Although this wasn’t his first time visiting Al’s bedside, it was the first time Al had been awake and talking. “No, I did everything wrong.” He insisted. “I should have been there- I should have assigned more people to you or- and then I told you that it would be on you if anything happened- Merlin, Al. I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it?” 

He had meant it at the time, but he would give any amount of the gold in his Gringotts vault to be able to take back his words. Swallow them, along with the bitter taste they left him with. “I’ll send her an Owl.” He insisted. It was the least he could do, and nobody in St Mungo’s was going to argue with Harry Potter. He didn’t enjoy his fame, but there were times it became useful to him. “Lily is right to be upset, Albus. The Healers know what they’re doing.” He insisted, although he knew his youngest son was probably far more talented with Potions that ninety percent of the hospital staff. Quite possibly a hundred percent if you removed Lily from the equation. Clearly his children had inherited his mother’s skill when it came to the subject. “I know you do.” He sighed in defeat. “But there has to be something you can take. I won’t let you sit here in pain. Ask your sister, you know she’ll help you find a regimen you can commit to.” A half smile tugging at his lips, he felt a rush of pride and affection. Something he wasn’t used to feeling in the presence of Albus. Their arguments always seemed to get in the way. “Albus... I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you. I really am.”

It did make Julian feel a little better, though now he had a feeling he was failing this test of character, especially if Leah Proudmore seemed to pass it every time—as someone who had openly admitted to Julian, a complete stranger at their time of meeting, that she was easily scared after having shouted in surprise when Julian made conversation.

“So with all the times you’ve given your Aurors this same lecture, has anyone else decided actually quit being an Auror?”

Whether Julian wanted to hear this over and over was probably going to be the deciding point to move forward with training. But he was beginning to fascinated now by the future plans the DMLE had in store. He was never particularly interested in politics or muggles (because who cared when there was Quidditch?), but to work with muggles was a move so bold that he was sure everyone was talking about it. Or had been, until Albus Potter got attacked.

“Out of curiosity, sir. It’s just that muggles don’t have the same abilities we do, and there are people who aren’t comfortable with the idea of working with them—again, that’s not the problem then, since I suppose there’s no point in trying to appease those who don’t want to see progress.”

The plan, Julian thought, was complex, but he had faith in this department in spite of Harry’s non-answer. Julian genuinely thought that they had the best interest of the magical world at heart—and where could danger lurk best but their blind spots? It was a great idea.

“But I wasn’t sure how you were planning to work around the muggles’ lack of magical abilities. And especially with keeping the Statute of Secrecy in mind—how do we tell them about magical crimes and keep our world a secret at the same time?”

Whether or not the muggles were up to task was a different story—one that Julian didn’t know. He added something to clarify his intention with his questioning, because he really was just curious.

“I didn’t mean to offend you either.”

“Yes.” Harry answered. “And I can’t say I blame them. I only want to ensure the right people get the job, and that the people who may be better suited elsewhere don’t feel as though they have no choice but to commit. It’s difficult, glorified work. Not everybody, and that isn’t to say you don’t, but not everybody understands the true weight of what they are taking on. It’s okay if they don’t, it’s okay if they change their mind. I only want people here to be comfortable and content in their decisions.” 

Sitting back in his chair, he listened carefully. Trying to gauge the motivation behind Julian’s words. Was he against the idea of working with Muggles? Sceptical? Or just curious? “If my staff don’t agree with my choices, they are more than welcome to talk to me. But I do believe anybody against this idea may be happier in another department. This job has never just been about protecting Wizards, but Muggles too. Now we’re bringing the Muggles into the loop, making it easier to notice patterns or unusual events that may have been clocked by their police force.” 

Waiting patiently again for Julian to pose his questions, he smile assuredly. “There are rules in place for certain breaches of the statue. For example, the Muggle Prime Minister has always been aware of our world and the threats it may contain. Only a select few officers will be connected to the Ministry, and they will partially be responsible for upholding the statue on their end. I assure you everything has been thought through and carefully organised.”  His smile growing, he shook his head. “You didn’t offend me, Mr Wood. There is just only so much information I am technically allowed to divulge. You’ll have to forgive me for being vague.” 

Of course Beatrice was going to be the one to blame here—her lip curled into a smirk, momentarily amused by what was happening.

“Take it up higher than you? It’s rather convenient then, isn’t it, that the Prophet and the Minister are all eating out of the palm of your hand?”

Beatrice had nothing to lose now and she wasn’t holding back, consequences be damned; the Proudmore girl had upset her, but Beatrice was probably the one who put some real backbone into her—her opinion of this department was quickly sinking, though she had long learned not to trust law enforcement.

“Convenient then, isn’t it, that you can tell me to ‘take it up higher than you’ knowing that there’s no one to listen to my case? I’m sure that’s what you tell everyone who disagrees with you—send them down to Hermione Granger’s office and have her deal with your problems for you?”

She had thought she was making a good point about the department—even though she wasn’t the one running it. It was silly to drop everything for one person, especially since the world still had other problems with it that Harry Potter seemed to refuse to see just because he happened to be related to the person attacked. Weren’t there other cases to solve? Other problems that the Aurors should have been dealing with? Other people that needed protecting?

“You think the world revolves around you and your family, but what kind of selfish asshole decides that their son deserves every last resource this department has? This attack isn’t the only danger in the wizarding world and to ignore everything else is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard—unless you’re willing to admit your entire department hasn’t actually been doing anything since this happened, and we’ve all just lived in a world where crime didn’t exist until your son got attacked?” 

That would make sense then, if he were willing to excuse Leah Proudmore’s inattention, if the Auror’s didn’t have anything worth paying attention to. It was not that Beatrice herself needed Aurors walking around; this was about standing up for everyone who wasn’t named Potter.

“The wizarding world doesn’t revolve around your son. And I’m willing to wager everything in my vault that you wouldn’t drop everything had anyone else been attacked—me, or that Proudmore girl, or that receptionist out front—but no, your son deserves the best treatment the Potters can milk out of this department, doesn’t he?”

If he decided to hex her there, she wouldn’t have given a damn. He wasn’t going to see that what he was doing was foolish and folly. Harry Potter was an infallible god, and she had a feeling he could easily slip into the part.

Harry felt another surge of anger, infuriated by the idea of the Minister being biased towards him. Kingsley was a friend, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be held accountable when it became necessary. I think you’ll find the Prophet has never truly been on my side. He said carefully, remember his years as a teenager, actively struggling against the propaganda and tabloid gossip. “But I appreciate your concern.” His frown deepening at the mention of Hermione, he glared at the woman, doing everything he could to maintain his composure. 

“Excuse me?” He bit out at the insult, resisting the urge to stand suddenly. Towering over her would only be considered a threat or a power play. He couldn’t afford to be accused of that, not in such a position of authority. “The attack isn’t the only danger, but it’s the only true danger that has produced any genuine leads on Grindelwald’s followers.” He snapped. “Until then, nearly every case to unearth potential supports has led my staff to dead ends, or unable to prove connections.” There were so many rules and legislations his department needed to work through before they could take anybody into custody or involve Magical Law, sometimes it was an incredibly lengthy and complicated process. 

“My son nearly died. The people we are hunting actively attacked him. I would call that a rather pressing concern and if you wouldn’t then I have no choice but to question whose side you are really on, Miss Lestrange.” He clenched his fists, swallowing his rage. Maybe she was right, maybe if somebody he was less familiar with had been the victim, he would have allowed a handful of workers to continue focusing on their individual case files, but from where he was standing, that was logical. And according to the lack of breakthroughs, would have made absolutely no difference whatsoever. “My son deserves the best everything.” He raised his voice, unable to help himself. “I earned this position because I am fair, and sensible, and make good decisions for the department. If my judgement has slipped, I think it might be a little understandable given the nature of the situation. But I stand by it being the right thing to do. Nobody else seems to have taken issue, so might I suggest you leave? Before either of us says something they come to regret.” 

Mikhail was the observant type, which was one of the reasons he was good at what he did, why the professors targeted him for a position of power at Durmstrang, and why he made a good member of Dumbledore’s Army. It helped him to recognize that Harry wasn’t all there, daydreaming perhaps, and he wondered if it would have been better to approach him a little later. Though it was far too late to consider that now. “Yes, sir,” he nodded, “I am. It’s only my second year teaching. After I graduated from school I took a few years away to travel and - uhm,” he paused to find the correct word because the only thing coming to him was otkrivam, “Find myself and the things I enjoyed.” Mikhail didn’t understand why he was being thanked for introducing himself, so he cocked his head to the side slightly. It was only when Harry announced that he had seen Mikhail and Lily together that it sort of made sense to him. “Yes, we did. She asked me to be her plus one, despite assuring her that I would already be here. I think she was concerned that my status as a Durmstrang alumnus would mean I wasn’t here,” he smiled a little bit, “She has an open invitation to stay for dinner whenever she would like, but marriage is nowhere near on the table yet. I’m not sure if that answers the question at all, but we haven’t quite sat down to discuss it. Or maybe we have. English is my third language, so I am not always so…understandable about it.”

“How are you finding it?” Harry asked curiously. “Teaching, I mean.” There had been more than one person who encouraged him to get into the field himself, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until the fight against dark magic was over. He also knew it would never be over, so he really hadn’t felt like he had any choice in his career path. Becoming an Auror was the only thing that had ever actually made any sense to him. “And what do you enjoy?” Maybe he was pressing for answers he wouldn’t usually even ask for, but he would like to get to know Mikhail, especially if he was seeing Lily, and he highly suspected he was. 

“She asked you?” He couldn’t hide his surprise. Even given the conversation with his daughter earlier, he had wrongly assumed Mikhail was the one to ask whether he could escort her. It was interesting, he knew she had a habit of holding people are arm’s length. “I hope you know how rare that is. I probably shouldn’t tell you that but... if she cares about you, I don’t want you to hurt her.” It was obvious, of course. But he would feel like a failure if he didn’t say it at least once. 

Raising his eyebrows pointedly at the mention of marriage it was clear neither of them were considering it, but the fact that Mikhail had even brought it up had to mean he was taking his relationship seriously. He appreciated that, he respected that. “I have a feeling if Lily was talking about marriage she would make sure you understood.” He smiled warmly. “What languages do you speak?” 

“People have said I’m awfully quiet sometimes, so it wouldn’t surprise me if I hadn’t been.” Her smile was still apologetic until she noticed his grow when he heard her father’s name, nodding a bit. “He’s good…he married Ernie Macmillan’s younger sister, Iris, my mother….so our whole family should be here tonight including the Macmillan side of things.” It was nice to see one of her father and uncle’s friends so excited at the prospect of seeing them and catching up, though she blinked a bit when he mentioned her resemblance to her father. “It’s good to finally meet you as well Mr. Potter, though that’s I think the first time someone’s said I looked like my dad…if I look like him just wait until you see my little brother, everyone says he looks just like dad did…”

“It really wasn’t your fault.” Harry rushed to assure Aloma, grinning again when she mentioned Ernie Macmillan. It felt so strange to be back, to see so many people from his school years. “I didn’t realise!” He admitted. He had been so wrapped up in his trauma after the Battle of Hogwarts, by the time he was ready to start contacting people again, so many of his schoolmates had slipped his mind, or felt too distant to reach. He was only now realising how guilty he was of letting people go. It wasn’t fair, really. They had all suffered too. “Is it?” He asked curiously. It was very possible he was misremembering Anthony, but he felt sure his daughter had the same smile as he used to. “Then again, I’m always confused when people tell me Lily looks like me, it doesn’t make sense when I look at her and see her mother. Maybe it’s subjective. You have a little brother?” He asked, curious to know more about the family. “How old is he?”

“Oh, of course. I had to know what she said about the infamous Harry Potter,” she teased. Her father had been adamant when they were kids that that cursed book could never be in their walls. The banning of the book, however, is what peaked Lily’s interest. She read it as soon as she could when she was away from his home. “I know, but I don’t like that you went through that. It still hurts to know about it. I’m sure it is strange. There’s nothing exactly normal about coming back from the dead,” she said, a dry chuckle slipping past her lips.

Lily shrugged before sipping his champagne. “I don’t know what else to say. He’s great. He went to Durmstrang, and I’m pretty sure he speaks two languages. Maybe three.” There were other things, but that wasn’t something she was sharing with her father. She smiled before looking back towards her dad. “It’s the first time I’ve brought a date to anything.” As he went on to talk about Grimmauld Place, Lily was reminded that everything isn’t always what it seems. “It isn’t fair how all of this darkness or dark magic seems to be coming back.”

“Ha ha.” Harry deadpanned. “We’ll see how amusing you find it when she decides to write about you.” He was only teasing but they both knew that one day Rita was going to turn her attention to the children of Harry and Ginny Potter. It was inevitable. “I made it, didn’t I?” He assured her, wishing she wouldn’t feel so bad. Knowing Lily she was kicking herself for being powerless to change his past. “And I’m glad I did, the world would be a much darker place without you in it. Hey, there isn’t much that’s normal about this family.” He pointed out, picking his glass back up and taking a long drink from it. 

“He went to Durmstrang?” He asked. As Head Auror, he had heard a few rumours about Durmstrang, but according to the Ministry the institution had changed rather drastically without Igor Karkaroff at the helm. He sincerely hoped the Ministry was right, though if Mikhail was teaching DADA, did it matter either way? His heart was surely in the right place regardless of his education. “Well, I really hope you’re enjoying your first date.” He grinned at her, feeling strangely proud though he couldn’t say why. Sighing quietly at her mention of dark magic, he turned his attention back to the room. His gaze lingering on Albus. “I know... I know better than anyone, but that’s why nights like this are so important. Life just... goes on. It has to. We have to be stronger than the darkness.” 

It was Aloma’s first time back at the castle since she had graduated from school, though the familiar halls and corridors gave her some comfort still even after all this time. She’d recognized some familiar faces, though there were some that she didn’t recognize though, given the scope of the reunion, it shouldn’t have surprised her. She did recognize some of her parents and uncle’s friends from their time at school, they all tried to keep in touch after they’d graduated after all. Her parents were running later than either of them had expected, so Aloma had taken it upon herself to let their classmates know that they would indeed be attending. She’d seen Harry sitting and chatting with his daughter earlier and figured it was better not to interrupt, for all she knew they could have been talking about Albus and she had no place in that conversation. She did wonder though how the Potters were all holding up though, especially Ginny and Harry given what they’d both gone through while they were still in school and she wondered if her parents had those same fears on occasion about her and her brothers. Aloma shook her head slightly, making her way over to Harry once Lily had wandered off, jumping a bit when she startled him. “Oh! Mr. Potter I didn’t mean to startle you…figured I was making enough noise though I suppose I should make just a bit more.” She offered an apologetic smile, nodding slightly at his question. “Everything’s fine. I’m Anthony Goldstein’s daughter Aloma, I just wanted to let you know that my parents were running late but if dad has his way they’ll be here within the hour.”

Harry shook his head with a smile, feeling a little ridiculous for allowing himself to get so lost in his own thoughts. “You probably were, I’m sorry.” He insisted, his smile growing the moment he recognised the girl. She didn’t need to introduce herself, the family resemblance was obvious, but he felt a strange rush of affection at the mention of his old friend. “Anthony?” He asked, smile growing as he remembered the Ravenclaw from school. One of the first to sign up for Dumbledore’s Army, one of the brave students who had stayed to fight during the Battle of Hogwarts. “Merlin, it’s been years. How is he? He’s coming here tonight?” He was excited to see him, and made no effort to hide the fact. There were so many people he had lost touch with. People he should have made more of an effort to know after school. “Anthony Goldstein was definitely one of them. It’s really good to meet you, Aloma. You look like your dad, you know?” 

Lily had heard almost all the stories from that night all those years ago during the battle here. She thought she had known everything there was to know about it until her father informed her he had died. “You what?” she wondered, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn’t imagine what he went through, and somehow he was still standing here. He had always seemed so strong and unshakeable to her. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It isn’t fair. None of that was.” She wrapped her arm around his as she leaned against him. When he mentioned Mikhail, Lily’s eyes widened. Of course he had noticed. Lily wasn’t quite sure why she thought he wouldn’t. “That’s Mikhail. He’s the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor here.” She relaxed, a smile forming on her lips as she thought of him. Lily didn’t know what to call her and Mikhail, but he was special to her. She pulled away for a moment to look up at him. “Possibly. Not for a while though. I love my job, but I might do it one day.” She shrugged. Lily never cared if her dad ‘embarrassed’ her in front of her friends. She had always been close to him, and it was fairly hard for him to embarrass her. “I know it is, but I’m sure not every single thought about here is happy.”

Harry felt a smile tugging at his lips despite the nature of the conversation. “I figured all of you kids would have scrambled to read Rita Skeeter’s ridiculous biography the moment you left for school.” He admitted. It had banned in his household for very obvious reasons but he couldn’t control what they read while they were at Hogwarts and they had definitely taken advantage of that on the odd occasion. “Briefly, sweetheart. You don’t need to be sorry.” He insisted. “It’s just... strange to think about.” Especially because he wasn’t supposed to come back. Especially because he had stood in the Forbidden Forest, ready to die, accepting of his fate. And here he was thirty years later, sitting next to his daughter. His youngest child. 

His smile growing when Lily seemed to accept the fact that she couldn’t dodge his question, he was happy to hear he taught Defence. By far one of the most useful subjects the school had to offer. “Is that really all you’re going to give me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows and turning to look at her. “It would be a nice place to work when you’re older.” He agreed. Maybe before retirement, or after any children she had moved out of her home. “No place can be happy all the time. Even Grimmauld Place has a dark history... I’ll be okay. So long as you’re here to distract me, eh?”

Mikhail still wasn’t entirely sure he could call Lily his girlfriend, but they were as close to it as he had ever been with somebody. The only thing he might change about the situation was her last name, and not in the marriage sort of way - though maybe eventually - but in the fact that he didn’t think he was the right sort of man to be seen around the Potters. He had a dark vibe to him that meant some professors still didn’t trust him despite holding his position for multiple years at this point. It also meant that meeting her father was going to be far harder than the average parent - boyfriend meeting, but he was willing to take the chance. Mikhail spotted Harry sitting at his assigned table, champagne in hand, and he took advantage of the quiet moment and approached him. “Hello, sir,” Mikhail murmured. He thought he had spoken loudly enough to not startle Harry, but apparently he hadn’t managed. “My apologies, I simply came to introduce myself. My name is Mikhail Petrov, I’m the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, immediately intrigued. He made a point of brushing away Mikhail’s apology. He had allowed himself to become distracted which was never a good thing. “Mikhail?” He echoed, trying to place the name. He felt bad to assume, but given the combination of name and the accent he was fairly certain the man hadn’t attended Hogwarts. Now he was teaching though, Defence Against the Dark Arts too. Something about that was incredibly comforting. Lily would be safe with him. “You’re a professor?” He asked, wondering whether it would be outright rude to ask about his relationship with his daughter. It was no secret they had attended the event together, after all. “Thank you for introducing yourself.” He smiled warmly. It couldn’t be easy approaching the father of somebody you were seeing, but he imagined approaching Head Auror, Harry Potter had to be absolutely terrifying. Mikhail seemed strong though, he didn’t even look a little fazed which was already earning his approval. “I noticed you came here with my daughter tonight.” He said, deciding against trying to be coy. He may as well say it. His eyes were shining, a smile still playing at his lips to let him know he wasn’t in any trouble. But his curiosity was very obvious too. “I guess I’m not allowed to ask how serious that is?” 

Lily grabbed a glass of champagne as it floated past her and took a sip. “Pretty sure a Potter is bit stronger than a few glasses of this,” she teased. Over the years, Lily had gotten pretty good at detecting when her father was lying, but she had decided not to call him out now. “Something is on your mind,” was all she said. Lily had been drifting back and forth between friends and socializing with as many people as she could. “I am having a good time. It feels good to be back, really.” She had just come back from revisiting the common room. “I went up to my old room. Sometimes I do miss being here every single day.” She leaned against his shoulder. “What about for you? How does it feel?”

Harry shot Lily a look, both proud of her intuition, and frustrated by it. He didn’t say anything in response, just slowly took another sip of his drink before setting his glass back down again. “I died here.” He murmured after a moment of silence had passed between them, shrugging as if it play off his statement as casual. “In the Forest, at least... I saw a lot of other people die too, some of them in this room. You would think after so long it would be easy to move past but... it isn’t.” Sighing softly, he forced a smile back onto his face, it wasn’t difficult to do when he was talking to his daughter. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.” He assured her. “The wizard you brought with you also seems to be having a good time.” He added, his eyes shining with mischief. “Have you ever thought about teaching? Or working in the hospital wing? They would be bloody lucky to have you here, and you would be able to stay in the castle.” His smile growing as she leaned against him, he put an arm around her. He didn’t care about whether or not that might embarrass her in front of her friends. Besides, wasn’t that his job as a parent? “Hogwarts is my home... nothing is going to change that. I just got carried away with my thoughts.” 

It wasn’t her first time back since she finished school. If not for Mikhail, Lily doubted she would have returned unless she had to. She stood at the entrance to the Great Hall for a moment. She remembered the hat barely touching her head before yelled Gryffindor and seeing her brothers at their respective house tables. During her sorting ceremony, she remembered being so overjoyed to share a house with her parents, but she wished Albus was there with her. He seemed happy where he was, though. That was what mattered to her. She saw her dad sitting on his own and she knew he had seen some tragic things during his time here. Lily doubted this castle would still be standing if it hadn’t been for him, Uncle Ron, and Aunt Hermione. She stepped up beside her father and sat beside him, but she accidentally startled him. “Clumsy much,” she teased, as his glass nearly spilled over. “I was going to ask you the same. You look like you’re thinking about quite a bit.”

Harry laughed quietly at Lily’s teasing, grateful for the distraction, and more than relieved to find her sitting beside him. She always gave him a sense of comfort. “Maybe I’ve had one too many.” He said, carefully setting his champagne back on the table. It was a lie, he was only on his second drink, but it seemed easier than being honest. At his age, people didn’t expect his past to bother him. He needed to play up to that if he wanted to be taken seriously as Head Auror. The great, unshakable Harry Potter. “I’m fine.” He assured his daughter, shifting to face her properly. “It’s too easy to get lost in thought when you’re left to your own devises, huh? You seem like your having a good time. He had seen her earlier, drifting from friend group to friend group, momentarily slipping away, he could only assume to explore the castle. “Does it feel strange being back here?”

Lily had always been a curious kid, and she remembered asking her dad about his scars when she was little. The lightning bolt shape on his forehead always caught her attention, but it wasn’t long before she had spotted his hand. She had asked like most curious kids do, but she never understood until recently. 

“Geez, I hope I don’t. I’m glad none of the professors at Hogwarts were awful to me. I mean, I did spend half of my time in detention, but they all seemed to like me,” she joked, smiling a bit. She missed Hogwarts sometimes, and she wondered if she would ever get to go back. Part of her wanted to roll her eyes at her dad’s constant worry, but his worry was necessary in a time like this. Things were uncertain for them, and they were all clueless as to what was around every corner. “I will.”

It was hard for Lily not to defy any and all authority and do her own thing, but she would hold back for him. She could be selfish sometimes, and she often forgot that her actions could have consequences for those around her. “I’m not selfless. Pretty sure a selfless person would think before they do something silly. I do what sounds good in the moment. I don’t think about it hurting people around me right away.”

Harry laughed. Of course they liked Lily, he couldn’t believe anybody would find it possible to  ever dislike her. “Obviously, I’m not surprised.” He teased. “But I’m biased, of course.” Taking one last look at the back of his hand, he sighed, turning it to the side so that the scars were no longer visible. Doing so had almost become a habit. “You earned those detentions, don’t feel sorry for yourself now.” He grinned, remembering how he usually had to pretend to be angry when actually he was proud. How each time their children were given detention, he and Ginny used to practise their lectures so they wouldn’t laugh halfway through them and give themselves away. The truth was, so long as they weren’t hurting anybody, they were incredibly amused by the mischief their children got up to. 

“Lily...” His expression softened as he looked at her, marvelling at how blind she was to her own value. “That’s what selfless means. It isn’t about family or friends, that’s calculating. A selfless person doesn’t think before doing something, especially when other people are at risk. I know for a fact that if somebody was in danger, you wouldn’t hesitate before rushing to help them, regardless of whether doing so would put you in danger too. I know that can feel selfish, only thinking of your loved ones- what it would mean for them to lose you, when everything is over... but it isn’t, it’s the opposite. I wish you would sometimes, but you are selfless, incredibly so. And that’s something I am so, so proud of you for. I can’t tell you how proud.”