It Meant Family

16th of October 1993

"It was so often her approach to the world; to change reality. If you can't change reality, change your perceptions of it." - ZEMI: A New Spelling of My Name, Audre Lorde

Scotland, Hogwarts

He had become used to the Great Hall in such silence over the years and, though he much preferred it full of life, the grim atmosphere better suited his thoughts and feelings at that moment. He'd grown to enjoy their early morning Quidditch practices, but with talks of Hogsmeade filling up the changing rooms and breakfast table, he felt rather grim. Oliver complained he'd flown slower that morning and he couldn't argue with it, he'd been less attentive too, thinking about all the fun his friends would have without him. Fred and George had done their best to cheer him up, but had vanished along the way to Great Hall, leaving him to hear Wood re-explain all his plans for the upcoming Quidditch season.

Harry got up as soon as Ron and Hermione appeared by the tall double doors across from him, he didn't want to bring down their excitement with his resentment, but also had no desire to hear about all the places they intended to visit and all the butterbeer they aspire to drink. They tried to stop him halfway, but he ignored them, walking past in a rush to get away from the buzzing hoard of third year students, ready to spend all their pocket money at Zonko's and The Three Broomsticks.

On the hallway, just before reaching Gryffindor Tower, he felt the urge to retrieve the box of Dungbombs in the bottom of his trunk and set it off by the castle's front doors as everyone left for the village, but he knew it was petty and it wouldn't truly make him feel any better. So he pushed the thought away and let his legs take him back to his room and the queer muggle book hiding under his pillow that he had spent the whole night reading, ZEMI: A New Spelling of My Name, a biomythography by Audre Lorde.

However, before he could reach the moving staircases, a pair of arms pulled him into an alcove behind the portrait of a severe looking woman wearing black robes, over a burgundy blouse and a disproportionately tall top hat, who, oddly, nodded at him with a smile.

"Great Godric," he murmured, recognising the two people standing in the dim space in front of him "what are you doing?"

"We've been thinking-" Started Fred.

"Pondering-" Continued George.

"Thoroughly debating-" Harry looked at them confused.

"You need to know, this wasn't an easy decision-" Explained the first.

"But seeing how downcast you were during practice-" His brother followed.

"We knew we had to do it." Harry found the way they bounced off each other to speak amusing, but in his present state, it made him dizzy.

"That you need it more than we do." Fred gave him a mischievous smile.

"Need what?" He asked impatiently.

"We heard from Ron that your godfather's not letting you go to Hogsmeade-" Harry leaned against the stone wall, ungrateful for the reminder.

"So we bequeath this gift upon you." George took a piece of parchment from his robe and offered it to him, mocking a bow.

"Think of it as a very early Christmas present." Added his brother.

"Or a very late birthday gift." Before taking it, Harry looked at it for a moment. It seemed old and worn and completely blank.

"Is this supposed to be a prank?" He raised an eyebrow unamused.

"Wouldn't be a very good one now, would it?" Laughed Fred.