Lily was standing at her kitchen sink, a large glass of orange juice and vodka in one hand, while she stared out the window into the back yard that Harvey had been playing in a few hours ago. There had been laughter and excitement, and any minute the Weasley family and the Longbottom’s would arrive, and lunch would be served. Lily had been feeling great; she had been so excited to see how well Harry had taken Harvey’s present—a present that Harvey had picked out all on his own—and she had a small bubble of hope swell inside her.
The food was now sitting cold and untouched on the kitchen bench. Lily had been putting the last few touches on her sides when she had felt the house shake, the sounds of books hitting the floor, and doors slamming against the wall. Her first thought was that James had done something stupid and broken the house, again, but then she remembered that Remus and Harry had stepped into her small library room. Lily had quickly wiped her hands before leaving the kitchen; she found Harry facing Remus’. The look on his face would haunt her; she had never seen him look so broken. Even when she had sat beside him in his room, his eyes looked so hollow now.
And then he tried to run. Lily had chased him, not wanting him to leave. Her thoughts had been consumed by wondering what she had missed? Why was Harry so broken? Lily had begged him to stay; she wanted to talk to him. And then Harvey—all he wanted was to connect with his brother, he wanted Harry to spend time with him—he had tried to bring Harry back inside. Lily hadn’t expected such a reaction, but Harvey was thrown across the yard by Harry. He hadn’t used his wand, and she had never seen Harry do wandless magic before. It had shocked her, but the crunching sound as Harvey hit the ground chilled her to the bone.
Lily had run to him, but he wasn’t responding. She grabbed his shoulders, trying to wake him. Remus had told her that her screaming was what brought them all out the front. James had heard her yell Harvey’s name and found her kneeling over him. Lily didn’t even remember screaming.
Harvey was okay; he had only been knocked out by the force of whatever spell Harry had used to knock him away. He would have a nasty bump but other than that, he would be fine. James had carried him upstairs to his room and had barely left his side. Lily had wanted to stay with him too, but she also knew she had another son to deal with. But Harry had vanished.
Sirius had explained that he had tried to talk to Harry, but he apparated away. Neither of them had known that he even was capable of such a thing. Sirius had left to try and find Harry, and he had promised to call when he knew anything, but he had been four hours and nothing.
Lily took a sip of her drink and cringed at the burn. She had never been much of a drinker, but it was helping to numb her pain. The sound of footsteps entering the kitchen made Lily turn. Remus stood there with a solemn look on his face.
He asked, “Are you okay?”
Lily blew out a breath and tapped the counter. “Not really.” She took a sip of her drink. “I feel like a complete failure as a mother.” A tear well in the corner of her eye.
Remus shook his head. “You haven’t failed, Lily.”
“Really? Because my oldest son just attacked his younger brother and then vanished. Tell me how I haven’t failed,” she snapped.
He said, “Harry didn’t intentionally attack Harvey.”
“What else would you call it?” she asked.
Remus leant forward against the kitchen island. He said, “Harry has a lot of messed up emotions that he has been keeping locked away. From what I could tell, he hasn’t spoken to anyone about them, not Sirius, or you, or his friends.
“For years, he has kept all these things locked away because he didn’t want to burden everyone with what he was feeling. And after all that time, he started to crack. And now it’s his magic lashing out. It happened in your library when Harry got frustrated with me and then with Harvey. He isn’t doing it intentionally.”
Lily felt her stomach drop. How could she have missed it? Harry always put on a smile for her, that is why. No matter what she asked him to do, he was always happy for her. “Why wouldn’t he talk to me, though? I’m his mother,” she said.
Remus shrugged. “He probably didn’t think he could. To him, once you had Harvey, you had the family you wanted. He was just something on the side.”
Lily shook her head. “I would never—”
Remus cut her off. “Not intentionally, no. But you need to think about this from Harry’s side. You slept with Sirius, got pregnant and had him, then you put him in Sirius’ care full time, you then got married to James and had another baby with him. This baby has all of your attention, twenty-four hours a day, and Harry only got to see you on weekends. And sometimes, it wasn’t every weekend.”
The glass slipped from Lily’s hand and shattered on the floor. She couldn’t care enough about the mess to even flinch. All she knew was that she had fucked up. “He thinks I abandoned him?”
“Possibly. He also seemed to think that you and Sirius believe that he was a mistake.”
Tears spilt from Lily’s eyes, and she let out a loud sob. “He’s right—Harry’s right. I basically did abandon him. Just because I wanted to be happy, I just gave him to Sirius. I should have done it fifty, fifty. I was selfish, and now it’s too late.” She kicked the counter, her boot connected with the wood. She sobbed into her hands and said, “He hates me, doesn’t he? And Harvey. Fuck! I made him hate his brother, and all because I was too fucking selfish.”
Remus walked around the island and took both of her hands in his. He said, “Lily, you have a chance to fix this.”
“Do I?” she asked. “Because if you didn’t notice, Harry is gone.”
He said, “Then go and find him.”
Lily nodded. He was right.
“I’ll stay here with James and Harvey. You go find your son.”
“Okay.”
Lily stepped over the broken glass and grabbed her jacket from the hook. She checked to make sure her wand was in her boot and moved towards the front door. She had to find Harry and fix it; she loved him, she really did, but she had to make sure that Harry knew that, and no matter what, she was going to do whatever it took.
James came down the stairs and frowned. “Where are you going?”
“I need to find Harry,” she said.
“You can’t seriously be leaving, Harvey—”
“Is fine,” she yelled. James had been one of the many reasons she had separated herself from Harry, but that stopped now. He would have to accept that she had two sons, and they both were her responsibility to love and take care of. “And while I know he will be scared when he wakes up, both you and Remus are here. But what you seem to keep forgetting is that I had another son, one who I have abandoned enough.”
“Lily…” tried James.
“James, I’m going.” Lily gave him one final glare before ripping open the front door and rushing out. She would need to find Sirius and go from there. She just hoped that Harry was okay.
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Harry’s head was pounding, and his body felt weak. He could feel the weight of a heavy blanket covering him, but it was making him sweat at the heat that pooled beneath the blanket, plus the heat of a flickering fire that he could hear was suffocating. He let out a groan and forced himself to sit up, the action wouldn’t help his throbbing head, but he wanted the blanket off.
He opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the light and frowned at the unfamiliar room he found himself in. The room itself was a bedroom, and a guest one, at first glance. The room was void of any personal possessions, so whoever had put him in the bed didn’t use it frequently. The bed he was laying in was at least a double size mattress, and above him was a wooden frame that held a white lace canopy. Across from the bed was the fire that was warming the room, its flame was still burning bright, and it seemed that a fresh log had been recently added.
Harry groaned as his head thumped, and he shifted to sit on the edge of the mattress and rub his face. The last thing he remembered was standing at the gate of his mother’s house and her screaming voice. He remembered how desperately he wanted to escape; he wanted to run away from it all, and somehow, he must have.
The door to the room opened, and Harry shot up. His legs wobbled beneath him, and he stumbled, catching himself on the dresser. A small laugh made him look up at a pretty blonde girl. She smiled widely at him, and Harry found himself caught by her sparkling blue eyes.
“It’s about time you woke up,” she said.
She was speaking French. Harry moved over to the bed and said, “How long was I asleep?”
She said, “A few hours. I was just bringing you some soup for when you woke up.”
Harry nodded. “Thank you, I am rather hungry.”
She smirked and walked over to the bed, placing the tray beside him. She said, “That might have something to do with the fact that you threw up upon your arrival.”
“Speaking of arrival, where am I exactly?” he asked.
She said, “My family’s home. My father thought it best that we bring you back here rather than leave you in the middle of the park.”
“Right, and what park might that be?”
She scrunched up her bright blue eyes and gave him a strange look. “Parc des Buttes-Chaumont.”
Harry froze. “But that’s in…”
“Paris, yes.”
How could he be in Paris? He had been in Godric’s Hollow, and then suddenly, he was in a different country. “So I’m in Paris.”
The girl nodded. “Yes. I take it from your reaction you weren’t planning on it?”
He shook his head. “Um…no. I don’t even really know how I got here.”
“You apparated, according to my father,” she explained.
“But I don’t know how to.”
She shrugged. “Well, you did.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He had only been to Paris once; he was twelve at the time, and his father had met with a few French diplomates. He had taken Harry so that he could experience the world, and they had spent a few different days on the lawns of Parc des Buttes-Chaumont. And somehow, he had apparated from Godric’s Hollow all the way to France.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
Harry sighed. “Not really, no.”
“How about you eat this soup, and then I can see if my mother has a pain reliever for you?”
He nodded. He was starving. “Thank you…” He paused; he hadn’t even asked her name.
She said, “My name is Fleur.”
“Harry.”
He took her outstretched hand, and for some reason, he wasn’t really sure why he brought her palm to his lips and kissed it. A small blush touched Fleur’s cheeks, and Harry couldn’t help but smile.
Fleur left Harry to eat his soup alone. He sat on the bed and quickly devoured the hot broth, enjoying it immensely before considering what had happened. If Fleur was right and he had apparated, then he would be in so much trouble. The ministry had strict rules about underage wizardry for a reason, and within a day, he had caused two outbursts of magic and apparated to another country. There was probably already ministry people out looking for him, ready to expel him from Hogwarts and snap his wand. He had fucked up big time.
Harry stood from the bed again; this time, his legs held him, and he walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain. The view before him was of the streets of Paris, lamps glowed down the dark streets, and the large moon shone above them. He was in a whole new place; his magic had given him exactly what he wanted, to get away. Harry wondered about his family. He wondered if his parents were looking for him or if they were still at the Potter’s. He wouldn’t blame them if they were all still there, concerned for Harvey.
Harry didn’t mean to hurt him. His magic seemed to react in a way it never had before, and because Remus had managed to crack him—like an egg—he hadn’t been able to contain anything. Harvey had just been the unlucky person who received the brunt of it.
Rubbing his face, Harry stood at the window a moment longer, wishing that he could just stay gone forever.
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Sirius had looked everywhere. He had been shocked at first when Harry had just disappeared on his own. He knew that his son had been interested in learning to apparate one day, but they had never gone over it, and he was also too young to learn. But Harry did just that; he was sucked away with a pop and could have gone anywhere.
And wherever he had gone to, Sirius didn’t know. He had headed straight to Malfoy Manor, but no one had seen or heard from him; it had made sense at first that Harry would have gone straight to his best friend. Carlisle had promised to reach out to all of their school friends and find out if he went there and would let Sirius know. His next stop was Grimmauld Place; he thought that maybe Harry had wanted to go somewhere he knew well, but that had also been a bust. The last place he considered was Hogwarts, but Harry wouldn’t have been able to apparate into the castle.
Sirius found himself back at White Oak Manor, desperately hoping his son was there, but again, nothing. He had dropped on the bottom step of the main staircase and let tears fall. He had failed. From the moment he had seen that look in his son's eye, he knew that something was wrong; Harry had never liked to share his emotions, and Sirius had respected that thinking that if something got too bad, then he would—when he was ready—but instead, he had ignored all of the signs of his son being unhappy.
Sending Remus to talk to Harry seemed to be the smart thing to do; after all, the relationship they shared was one that Sirius knew he would never have with Harry. It was different from a father-son relationship; it was something all its own. And that didn’t concern him, he loved how close Harry was to his godfather, but Sirius just wanted to know why or how he had missed everything. Remus seemed to read Harry easily and had been the one to suggest that they talk, away from the rest of them. And Remus did get Harry to open up, but it seemed that by opening up, Harry hadn’t been able to contain himself at all.
Wiping his face, Sirius pondered what he could do next. There were a few different ways to track magic, but that meant going to the ministry, and how was he going to explain that his fifteen-year-old son had somehow apparated away without any training. It was that thought that made Sirius realise that he could be hurt; Harry could have splinched himself and could be bleeding out.
A loud pop made Sirius look up, and he saw Lily marching towards him. She said, “Anything?”
Sirius shook his head. “Harvey?”
She sighed. “He’ll be alright, just a nasty bump.”
“Harry didn’t mean—” Sirius started.
Lily knelt in front of him and shook her head. “We both know he didn’t mean it. Harry would never, no matter his emotional state.”
“Remus mentioned it was like an uncontrolled magic burst,” he said.
Lily nodded. “Something like that, but it seemed way stronger.”
“And he apparated, how?”
Lily shrugged. “I don’t know, but we need to find him.”
“I’ve looked everywhere.” Sirius grabbed his hair and tugged. He was a failure.
“We just need to track his magic,” said Lily.
He nodded. “I know. But the ministry is the only one who can track him, and I don’t really want to admit what has happened to them, do you?”
She sighed. “No, but with his trace, they probably already know what has happened. Its just Christmas, so you’ll probably get an owl tomorrow.”
Sirius tugged at his hair again, but Lily reached out to stop him.
She said, “I know how you feel.”
“Do you?” he snapped.
She frowned. “We failed him.”
Sirius looked up and saw the same pain he was feeling in her eyes.
“As his parents, we should have notice something; I think I was too focused on trying to make us all a family that I forgot about the most important aspect. How Harry feels.” She squeezed his hands and looked down at them. “I only cared about how I felt.”
“I, for some reason, thought he was fine. He has never been open with his emotions; I just assumed that his issues with Harvey were just normal siblings’ rivalry. Regulus and I always argued and fort; I thought it was the same.” Sirius let out a heavy sigh. “How do we find him?”
Lily stood and brushed the tears from her eyes. “I think I know someone who could help.”
“Who?”
“Severus,” she said.
Sirius frowned. “Snape? Really?”
Lily smiled. “You’d be surprised. Come on,” she pulled him off the step. “I know where he will be.”
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Harry had his clothes returned to him, washed and dried. He took a shower to clean the grime off himself before dressing and leaving the room. Fleur had told him that her father would want to speak with him but not to rush. Harry had found himself wanting to ask her to stay; her presence seemed comforting in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. But he let her leave and hoped that she would return.
When he had left the room, he found himself looking for her. Fleur had mentioned a living space down the hall, take a left, and then it was the third door down. He followed her instructions and took in the large portraits that we hung. Some were of beautiful landscapes; others were of people that Harry assumed were members of Fleur’s family. He took note that many of the females were just as stunning as Fleur; it seemed her family had exceptionally good genes.
Harry found the living room and came upon Fleur’s family. She was sitting on a love seat directly across from the fire with a book in her lap, and a blanket pulled on her legs. Beside her in the chair sat another woman, who Harry assumed was Fleur’s mother. She had the same long blonde hair that Fleur had, and she held herself in a proud position—something that would rival his grandmother—as she read through a newspaper. At her feet was a younger girl, probably Fleur’s sister; she was playing chess, and like her mother and sister, had long blonde hair. Across from the younger girl was the man that Harry took to be Fleur’s father. He was a shorter, than expected, looking man with black hair. He seemed focused on the chess game he was playing with his daughter.
Harry cleared his throat to announce himself and smiled as Fleur looked up from her book and smiled widely at him. She closed the book and asked, “How do you feel after your shower?”
Harry said, “Exceptional, thank you.”
“You are very welcome.”
Fleur blush appeared again, just tinting her cheeks, smiling as Harry stared at her. He couldn’t help himself.
Fleur’s mother cleared her throat and said, “I am Fleur’s mother, Apolline Delacour.”
Harry bowed respectfully, just as his grandmother had taught him, and said, “Harrison Black. Mrs Delacour, thank you for letting me into your home.”
“Be careful, young man,” said Fleur’s father, “she may not let you leave.” He laughed at his own words and stood. He held out his hand. “Allard Delacour, Fleur’s father.”
“Mr Delacour, my thanks to you as well,” said Harry.
“Don’t thank us, my boy. Fleur was the one who found you and insisted we help you.”
Fleur ducked her head as her cheeks darkened.
“After all, it isn’t often that someone as young as you will just appear out of nowhere.” Allard chuckled and sat back down.
“I am grateful,” said Harry, admiring Fleur.
She bit down on her lip. “It was the right thing to do.”
Allard smirked. He asked, “What did happen to you, lad?”
“I’m not completely sure myself, sir,” said Harry.
Allard gestured for him to take a seat. Harry moved across the room and sat down beside Fleur.
“I somehow found myself in Paris when only a split second before I had been standing in my mother’s front yard in England,” explained Harry. He didn’t add any reason as to what had caused the burst of magic that had led to his sudden apparation; enough people had suffered from his emotional outburst.
Allard leant back in his chair. “You’re from England? Your French is exceptionally good.”
“Thank you, sir. My grandmother insisted on lessons.”
“Just French or are there other languages as well?” asked Apolline.
“French was the first, followed by Italian, Russian, and Spanish,” said Harry.
“Wow!” It was the first time the younger girl had spoken. “How do you not get confused?”
Harry smiled. “It can sometimes if I’m speaking multiple languages at once, but it’s just practice.”
“Harrison, this is Gabrielle. Apparently, she had forgotten her manners,” said Apolline.
Gabrielle blushed and dropped her head. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay,” said Harry.
“Have you a way to reach your parents?” asked Apolline. “If the apparation was accidental, then I’m sure they will be concerned about your whereabouts.”
Harry kept his emotions from clouding his face. He didn’t know if they would care of not. But he knew he would have to go back; after all, he had an apprenticeship and school to do. “No, not with me. All I have is my wand, but I’m not supposed to use magic until I’m seventeen.”
Apolline nodded. “You can borrow an owl, and there should be some stationary on the desk for you to write out a letter. Fleur can you lend Eagon.”
Fleur nodded. “Of course.”
“Thank you.”
They stayed in the living room, talking for another hour. Allard continued his game with Gabrielle, which Harry noted that he let her win. Apolline read her paper and made comments about certain events going on. And Fleur asked Harry about his life. He returned the favour, finding himself extremely curious about the blonde-haired beauty that had helped him.
Only when it was announced that Gabrielle’s bedtime had arrived were Harry and Fleur left alone in the living room. Harry found it interesting that they had left their daughter alone with him; after all, they didn’t know him; she had been the one tending to him, though, so there probably wasn’t much difference.
“Who is Harvey?” Fleur suddenly asked.
Harry frowned. “How do you know that name?” He hadn’t mentioned anything about his family.
“You said his name in your sleep. It sounded like it was painful for you.”
Harry wasn’t sure what to say. The last time he had been honest about his feelings, his whole body had been overwhelmed, and he had lost control. “He is my younger brother,” he said.
Fleur nodded. “Did something happen to him?”
Harry leant forward and rested his arms on his knees. “It’s complicated.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to explain.
Fleur reached over and placed her hand on his arm. She gave it a gentle squeeze and said, “I have time.”
Harry felt comfortable sitting with her. Just like before, he found himself wanting to stay right beside Fleur. It wasn’t something he had really felt before; it was strange but nice.
He said, “Harvey is my half-brother. Our mother got pregnant with me at the end of her final year at Hogwarts. She slept with her boyfriend’s best friend.”
Fleur’s eyes went wide, and her mouth popped open. “Holy shit.”
Harry chuckled. “That’s one word for it.”
“Sorry, I supposed I didn’t expect that.”
Harry placed his hand over hers; it was still holding his arm. “It’s alright. Our mother decided to keep me, and when I was born, so that she could maintain her relationship, she gave me to my father to raise me full time. She would see me as often as she could, but there were many things that she missed.”
Fleur frowned and moved in her seat. She turned her body so that she was facing Harry and slid a little closer. She intertwined their fingers and rested them in her lap.
Harry smiled down at their hands and continued, “My mother got married to her boyfriend, and when I was around four, she got pregnant with Harvey. I remember being excited, I was going to be a big brother, but it didn’t really happen like I thought I would. A child’s picture of the world is very different from reality.” He sighed and took a moment.
Fleur’s fingers stroked his, but she didn’t speak.
“When Harvey was born, things changed. Mother had less time for me, and my weekly visits became less depending on Harvey. It didn’t help that her husband hated my existence; he still does. I truly believe that he thinks I am the cause of all his problems.”
Fleur used her finger to raise his face. “It sounds to me that you were dealt an unfortunate set of cards. None of which is your fault.”
It was just like what Remus had said; he wasn’t to blame. But it didn’t feel like that. After all, if he weren’t around, then everyone would be happy.
“That is one way to put it,” said Harry.
“Did something happen with your family today? Is that why you ended up here?” she asked.
Harry nodded. “Things kind of blew up, for me at least. I found myself desperate to escape it all; my head was pounding, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and then all of a sudden I wasn’t there anymore.”
“No. You were at my feet, vomiting.”
Harry cringed. “Not my most brilliant entrance.”
Fleur let out a small giggle.
“Normally, I prefer to be a gentleman when I meet such a beautiful young woman,” said Harry.
Fleur’s smile lit up her face. He meant every word. She was absolutely breathtaking, and he wished he had met her when he hadn’t been falling apart. Harry could only imagine what he would have said to try and talk to her; there was defiantly a possibility that he would have fallen all over himself just like Carlisle did with Amelia.
“I have no issues with our first meeting,” said Fleur. “I think it’s nice that I shall be able to tell everyone that you were a damsel and that I was your knight.” She giggled.
Harry smirked. She was cheeky, funny. And he suddenly wanted to kiss her.
A throat cleared itself, and both Harry and Fleur jumped apart. Apolline was standing in the doorway, a smirk on her lips. She said, “I think both of you need a good night’s sleep. Harrison, you can write to your parents in the morning.”
Harry nodded. “Thank you, Mrs Delacour.”
“You are welcome; good night, you two.”
“Good night, mother.”
Fleur stood from the couch and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Do you remember where your room is?”
Harry stood beside her. “I think you should show me the way, just in case.”
Fleur’s smile widened again, and she took his hand once more and led him down the hall.
Her face and touch just seemed to make everything else fall away. Hours ago, Harry had been falling apart at the semes. His emotional baggage was exploding from within, and he didn’t know if he would be able to reign it back in, but Fleur just seemed to relax him. Her presence was calming, and her fingers interlocked with his. It sent a warm tingle through him. And he didn’t want to let it go.
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