HP: Night of the Wolf

July 1942

It was a crowded table that Harry stood at the head of as he hosted another meeting between himself, Petr, Adams, and their respective seconds in command. Completing the group that were poring over the large map spread across before them was Eleanor Summerbee who had taken over from leading the ongoing relief work in Bulgaria.

Although Zajecar had taken the brunt of the destruction during the liberation of Yugoslavia, the country as whole had not suffered greatly under Grindelwald's occupation.

Not near as much as the Bulgarians, who had continuously resisted the man's regime.

The Yugoslavians had bided their time, waited for the ICW arrival, and had welcomed the forces with open arms.

Still, that had been almost five months ago, and the combined efforts of the ICW, the Russians, and the Americans had all but come to a standstill.

Greece and Albania had been reclaimed quickly in the aftermath of what occurred in Yugoslavia, but Grindelwald had become wise to the tactics used.

To prevent a bombardment and subsequent invasion on the border of the lands he held, he'd intentionally placed natives among his own followers as prisoners, leaving Harry no choice but to consider alternative action.

It was frustrating to say the least, but he had taken the opportunity to fortify their position.

With three hostile borders to contend with, decisions on whom they would shift their focus to needed to be made, and throughout the intervening months, he'd been watching them closely.

All three were strongly defended.

The German and Italian borders consisted of their own nationals who would not give up their positions lightly. There would be bloody, violent conflicts in the near future on both borders.

There had already been conflict, but little more than both sides getting a feel for the enemy they faced.

Hungary was the final of the three but was of little value in comparison to the other two.

Harry already had access to the German border from Yugoslavia, and it would merely be a waste of men to only expand that further.

No, the primary focus would either be on the Germans or Italians, and it was the latter that Harry favoured targeting.

"If we take the Italians out of the war, it reduces his numbers significantly," Charlus argued.

Harry nodded his agreement.

"It is not the numbers that concern me," he returned with a sigh. "Taking Italy will give us access to the southern French border. Most of us know that is more vulnerable than the east. This was how Grindelwald dislodged us in the first place," he explained, pointing to the where their former positions had been.

"Can it be done?" Adams questioned.

"Not easily," Harry answered honestly, "but it is preferable to trying to take Germany and more important than Hungary."

"So, we should concentrate on taking the Italians out of the picture," Adams mused aloud as he eyed the map. "It makes sense."

"Da," Petr murmured thoughtfully.

"Then that is what we will do when I return," Harry declared as he rolled the map up and handed it to Petr.

"I bet you can't wait to see her," Adams chuckled.

Harry nodded, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Both of them," he said sincerely. "I can't believe she will be a year old. I've barely seen her."

In the five months they had been in Yugoslavia, Harry had managed only one trip home to see Minerva and Rosa.

"They grow up fast," Adams sighed. "I have two daughters of my own, and it feels like only yesterday they were born. My eldest is ten and my youngest six."

He removed a photo from his pocket and handed it to Harry.

"I bet you're glad they don't look like you," Petr quipped.

Adams laughed heartily.

"They take after their mom," he acknowledged. "She's a good woman, better than I deserve."

Harry clapped the man on the shoulder before handing the photo back, noticing it was as worn around the edges as his own favoured picture of Minerva and Rosa.

"So, I will keep my group on the German border?" Adams questioned.

"For the time being," Harry confirmed, "but when we make our move, I will shift things around."

"They'll be thrilled," he snorted. "I'll stay in touch with Petr and Reg whilst you're away."

Harry nodded appreciatively.

As difficult as the beginning of their alliance had been, they were all on the same page now.

"Charlus will only be away for a few days, and then he and Arcturus will be back whilst Reg takes some leave."

"What about me?" Eleanor broke in. "Don't I get an invite to the birthday party?"

"Would you like one?"

Summerbee nodded.

"It will be interesting to see you away from here."

"You've met me away from here," Harry reminded her.

"Only when you were arresting me."

Harry snorted at the memory.

"I don't see any reason why you can't come," he replied with a shrug.

"Good," Eleanor declared. "I will be back here in the morning."

With that, she left, and Harry shook his head.

"Are you ready?" he asked Charlus.

"I can't wait."

"Then you should pack, both of you," he added to Arcturus. "Where's Reg?"

"Where do you think he is?" Charlus huffed. "He's attached at the hip with that American woman."

Arcturus nodded amusedly.

"I think he's quite taken with her. I'm sure Lord Yaxley will be pleased."

Harry didn't miss the sarcasm in his tone.

"I don't think Reg cares," Charlus pointed out. "What's going on between them?"

"Buggered if I know," Arcturus muttered. "I have my own things to occupy my thoughts."

"Another baby already," Charlus chuckled. "You don't hang about."

Arcturus merely shrugged in response.

"We didn't exactly plan for it happening so soon. Evans will tell you all about unplanned pregnancies."

Harry shook his head.

"The only thing I would change would be the timing," he returned. "I've not seen Rosa nearly enough."

"But you will soon," Arcturus pointed out. "It just means you have to make the most of the time you have and make up for it when the war is over. She won't remember these years, but she will grow up knowing her father is a hero."

Harry grimaced at the final word.

He had never been interested in being a hero, and that hadn't changed since he'd arrived here seven years ago.

The only person he wanted looking up to him was his daughter, and he was counting down the seconds before he would hold her in his arms once more.

(Break)

With a heave, Tom added another box of items he'd catalogued to the still growing stack in the cellar of Borgin and Burke's. True to his word, the latter of the owners had welcomed him back to finish the work he'd started the previous year, and Tom had welcomed the escape from the muggle world.

With his OWLs now complete and only two more years at Hogwarts remaining, he had begun pondering what he would do in the future, but already he knew his options as a half-blood were limited.

Even if he were to stake his claim as the heir of Slytherin, only certain pureblood families would hold him in any esteem, especially with how far from grace his magical family had fallen.

It was irksome to say the least, but with two years to ponder the predicament, and to somehow make some connections, it was not such a pressing matter.

No, Tom had other things to occupy his mind, though he was beginning to consider how he could tie all his ambitions into a singular goal.

Minister of Magic?

Tom grimaced at the thought.

No, being the Minister wasn't enough.

He wanted the respect of all wizardkind, and for that, he would need to be so much more.

"Tom?" the voice of Mr Burke called.

The teen schooled his expression as he approached the bottom of the staircase and peered up at his employer.

"There you are lad. Get yourself cleaned up, I'm taking you on a visit."

Tom frowned confusedly for a moment, but the realisation hit him.

"Smith," he whispered to himself, removing the apron he wore to keep the dust from his clothes and adjusted his appearance in the mirror.

As to not appear too keen, he took a breath to compose himself before making his way into the shop above where Mr Burke was similarly tidying himself up.

"Where are we going?" Tom asked, feigning ignorance.

"Do you remember when you asked about the locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin?"

Tom frowned in thought.

"Oh, the one you made a good profit on?"

Burke smiled.

"The very same," he confirmed. "When I told you the story, I mentioned the woman that brought it, Hepzibah Smith."

"The lady with Hufflepuff's cup," Tom mused aloud. "I remember."

Burke's smile widened.

"Well, she has asked for me to pay her a visit to look at some of her items and you were quite eager to meet her."

"Only if it doesn't intrude on your business," Tom replied.

"Nonsense," Burke said dismissively. "It will do you good to get out of the cellar for a while. I'd be pleased for the company."

Tom grinned as he nodded, ignoring the wave of irritation he felt as Burke fussed over him.

"That will do nicely," the man proclaimed. "Come along, we don't want to keep her waiting."

Burke led Tom from the shop and to the designated apparation point in Diagon Alley.

"Take my arm," the man instructed. "Have you ever apparated before?"

Tom shook his head.

It was something he would be learning to do this year at Hogwarts.

He had toyed with the idea of teaching himself but splinching was something he wished to avoid, so he had decided to wait.

As frustrating as it was, he did not wish to be without a limb.

"Then this will be quite uncomfortable," Burke replied apologetically.

Before Tom could offer any protest, he felt as though he had been pulled through a tube that was much too small to accommodate his frame, and when he could finally breathe again, he did so in short, sharp bursts.

"I'm sorry, Tom, but there is no kind way of doing that. You'll get used to it."

Tom nodded and took another few breaths so the nausea would pass.

"I'll take your word for it," he gasped.

Burke chortled as he directed Tom's attention to the house they stood before, and the teen's eyes widened.

"She lives here?"

"More gold than sense," Burke snorted, reiterating what he had said about the woman the previous summer. "Just remember to be polite and courteous. Flattery will help with old Hepzibah, and for Merlin's sake, don't stare."

"Why would I stare?" Tom questioned.

A grin tugged at Burke's lips.

"You'll see," he murmured as he led them towards the door.

Ringing the bell, they were greeted by a house-elf who offered them a deep bow.

"Hello, sirs, Hokey will show you to Miss Smith."

"Lead the way, Hokey," Burke urged familiarly.

The interior of the home was as grand as Tom imagined it would be. The furnishings were flawlessly polished, and everywhere he looked a semblance of the owner's wealth was on display, though when he was shown into a large parlour room, all thoughts of the house itself were forgotten.

Laying on a chez lounge was the most morbidly obese woman he'd ever seen. He'd needed to look twice to ensure she was not merely a realistic sculpture of a walrus in a dress.

Roll upon roll of fat made up her girth, and where her neck should have been, was nothing but jowls.

She wore thick, heavy make up and a floral perfume that stung his eyes.

"Mr Burke," she crowed enthusiastically. "I see you brought a guest."

Tom tore his eyes away from the blob and looked shyly towards the floor, remembering what his employer had told him.

"Hepzibah, you are looking as radiant as ever," Burke simpered. "This young gentleman is Tom. He has been assisting us in the shop for the past two summers."

"You are very welcome, Tom," Hepzibah greeted him with a wide smile. "I bet you would like some tea and a piece of cake. Hokey, please fetch some refreshments for our guests."

"Of course, Miss Smith."

The little house elf disappeared with a gentle pop and the woman's eyes roamed over the teen curiously.

"You must have impressed Mr Burke for him to bring you to me."

"It is an honour to be asked," Tom replied. "Mr Burke speaks very highly of you, Miss Smith. He says that you are a gracious host with the most interesting of items. I am pleased to meet a lady he values."

"Oh Tom, you are quite the charmer," Hepzibah giggled, her cheeks flushing. "If only I was a much younger woman, I would eat you up."

Tom didn't doubt she would, but he didn't voice his thoughts and was spared the need of responding by the returning Hokey who placed a tray of tea and cakes on the table.

She then cut a piece of cake and poured a mug of hot liquid for her mistress.

"Please, help yourselves," Hepzibah offered.

Tom did so willingly.

It wasn't often he was able to indulge in sweet treats, especially during the summer months when they weren't provided by Hogwarts.

"This is delicious," he declared after biting into the dessert.

Hepzibah who had already eaten two slices for herself smiled, her lips flecked with icing.

"It was my mother's recipe," she informed him. "It is one of my favourites."

Tom offered the woman a respectful nod.

For such a rich glutton, she was not an unpleasant woman.

"You mentioned that you had acquired some items I may be interested in," Burke cut in, placing his empty cup and saucer on the table.

Hepzibah nodded.

"Hokey, would you fetch our wares from the safe for Mr Burke and his young assistant?"

Once more, Hokey vanished, returning a few moments later levitating a large trunk.

"I believe these items will be to your taste."

Burke placed a pince-nez on his nose as Hokey opened the trunk, and Tom leaned over to peer inside.

"Where did you get these?" Burke questioned suspiciously.

Smith grinned.

"Lord Selwyn paid me a visit recently," she explained. "I hadn't heard of his transgression against the Blacks before he came. If I had, I would have sent him away with a flea in his ear, but he parted with these items so willingly and for the right price. It seems he has gone to ground. Not such a dimwit, after all."

Burke hummed thoughtfully.

"Still a fool, nonetheless," he muttered as he inspected a collection of books. "I don't know what possessed him to think he could go against them."

The Blacks.

Tom had heard of the family but had not met any of them for himself. They were perhaps the most notorious in wizarding Britain.

"Why are people afraid of the Blacks?" he asked curiously.

Burke raised an eyebrow in his direction.

"You do not have any in Hogwarts?"

Tom shook his head.

"Then you should be pleased for it," Burke chuckled humourlessly. "The Blacks are as ruthless and cutthroat as anyone you will ever meet. Even the young Lord Arcturus, as inexperienced as he is, has proven himself to be cut from the same cloth as his ancestors. He is currently fighting on the continent beside Harry Evans."

"Evans," Tom snorted, grimacing at his outburst.

Burke shook his head.

"If a man of Arcturus Black's station is content to defer to another man who should be lower, you'd best believe that man is worthy of his loyalty. Evans will return to Britain with more influence than just about anyone, and with friends like Black and Potter…well, everyone will be queuing up to kiss his backside."

Tom's jaw clenched.

He cared not for the reputation of Evans.

The man would die by his hand.

"Are you alright, Tom?" Hepzibah asked, a worried frown creasing her brow.

"I'm fine, Miss Smith," he replied, schooling his features. "I was just admiring the wares you acquired from Lord Selwyn."

"Well, if you are impressed by them, I have others that will blow you away, but you will have to visit again to see those. Today, I am quite eager to convince Mr Burke here to part with some of his gold."

Tom allowed a bright smile to crest his lips.

"I would be pleased to see anything you wish to show me, Miss Smith," he replied, eliciting another blush from the woman.

(Break)

For weeks Minerva had been preparing to celebrate Rosa's birthday. It was the first time they would have more than a few guests in their home at the same time, and she wanted to make a good impression on those that had not yet visited, those she hadn't seen for many years, and those she had yet to meet.

She would not have anyone think that Harry's home was not cared for in his absence.

"You are giving me a headache," Rosalina huffed as Minerva fretted over the cleanliness of a pair of curtains.

It had taken months of work, but the house was finally furnished throughout.

Kora had been nothing but a blessing, and the little elf not only seemed to enjoy her day to day running of their home, but she adored Rosa too, something that Minerva couldn't be more grateful, especially now her daughter did not stay still for long.

She was certainly becoming a handful and was mischievous to boot.

"I just want this to be perfect," Minerva sighed. "Harry is going to be home…"

"And he won't care about the house or anything else apart from seeing the two of you," Rosalina broke in as she bounced Rosa on her knee.

Minerva smiled as she smoothed down her dress.

It was one that Harry had bought her long before they'd become parents and was among her favourites.

"How do I look?" she asked, checking her reflection in the window.

Rosalina snorted as she shook her head.

"Are you planning on trying for baby number two?"

"No," Minerva denied quickly.

"Well, dressed like that, you might just get it anyway," Rosalina snickered. "You look great, so stop worrying."

Minerva's cheeks flushed as she busied herself with her ongoing preparations.

"It's not something we have discussed."

"It's not like you discussed this one," Rosalina pointed out, holding Rosa aloft.

The baby giggled as Rosalina began shooting bubbles from the tip of her wand, and even more so when she was enveloped within one and sent floating around the room.

Minerva could only shake her head.

Very few babies would enjoy the treatment, but ever since she had caught Harry with Rosa on his broom, the girl was at her happiest in the air, something she got from both her parents.

Out of precaution, Minerva had placed cushioning charms on all the floors, just in case.

"How many people are you expecting?" Rosalina asked curiously.

Minerva released a deep sigh.

"Poppy, Augusta, and Frank will be here," she began. "Tiberius, and his wife, the Flamels, Albus and Armando are coming too."

"And Harry," Rosalina needlessly reminded her.

"He has invited Arcturus who is bringing his wife and son," Minerva continued. "Charlus will be bringing his fiancé."

"The Blacks?" Rosalina asked.

Minerva nodded.

"I always got on with Arcturus well enough, and he and Harry are close."

"Are your parents coming?"

Minerva nodded as she worried her lip.

"They are," she confirmed. "I'm just concerned my father will be overwhelmed by so many of us."

Rosalina smirked.

Oddly, she got on rather well with Robert McGonagall, the two of them having struck up a strange friendship over discussions about religion and magic.

"He will be fine. You're stressing yourself out too much."

"I know," Minerva sighed. "I just want this to go well."

"It will be fine," another voice cut in.

Minerva turned sharply towards the door where Harry was stood, and she was flooded with relief.

He closed the distance between them in only a few steps and Minerva breathed his scent in.

After a moment, she pulled away to get a good look at him.

He had shaved cleanly, something he hadn't done since he'd been away, and his eyes were almost sparkling with happiness.

"Hello," he said simply.

Minerva positively beamed at the simplicity of his greeting, his smile warming her as much as it always had.

"Hello," she replied.

Without even drawing his wand, Harry summoned the still floating Rosa towards him and wrapped an arm around her.

"What do you need me to help with?" he asked, attempting to wrestle their giggling daughter under control.

(Break)

With his mother still seeking refuge in the Caribbean, there had been no one home to greet Charlus other than Maisy who had more than made up for the absence of the former.

The elf had wept at the sight of him and insisted he take a bath before being plied with more food than he could manage.

It wasn't until Charlus was near the point of being sick that she was satisfied he'd had enough, and he was allowed to leave the table.

Firstly, he'd needed to address the pile of correspondence that had accumulated in his absence, and having done so, he'd made sure the rest of the house was in order.

As expected, Maisy had seen to everything, the elf proving to be as dependable as ever.

His next port of call was to ready himself for his goddaughter's party and fetch Dorea who would be accompanying him.

He hadn't seen his fiancé in much longer than he cared to acknowledge, but for the few days he was here, he would not be parted from her.

"Is there anything else that requires my attention?" he asked Maisy who was fussing over his robes as though Charlus had forgotten how to dress himself appropriately during his time away.

"No, Master Charlus," the elf replied. "There. Now you look ready."

Charlus snorted.

Harry had insisted this wouldn't be a formal affair, but as the Lord of a prominent family, he still needed to dress the part.

"Then I will be on my way," he declared as he approached the fireplace, a sense of nervousness setting in.

The reason for such a feeling was on the other side of the fireplace.

It had been only months, but it felt like forever that he'd seen Dorea.

Clearing his throat, he threw a handful of floo powder into the flames, turning them instantly from the flickering orange to the emerald inferno.

"Grimmauld Place," he called before sticking his head into the hearth.

The first glimpse he received into the Black home was the inside of the parlour room he would arrive in and leave via on the very few occasions he had been here.

There was very little that was homely about the house, but he had grown fond of it in his own way.

Not that he would ever live here.

When they were married, Dorea would become the Lady Potter and share his home with him, a thought that brought Charlus more happiness than even the prospect of the end of the fighting.

"DOREA?" he called.

After only a short delay, the door opened to admit the woman, and Charlus felt his breath hitch in chest.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she questioned.

Without preamble, Charlus passed through the flames and immediately felt himself swept into a tight embrace from Dorea who had all but sprinted at him upon his arrival.

He chuckled as he held her, every last bit of adversity they'd had to overcome to be here undoubtedly having been worth it.

"I missed you," Dorea murmured.

Charlus smiled as he pushed her away gently just so he could look at her.

She grew more beautiful every time he laid eyes on her.

From her porcelain skin to her contrasting black hair and silvery eyes, she was almost otherworldly.

"You're much too good for me," he declared.

Dorea tutted and swatted his shoulder.

"I know," she replied with a grin, "but I'll marry you anyway."

Charlus snorted.

"You already signed the contract," he reminded her. "You're stuck with me for the rest of your life."

"Well, yours can always be shortened if necessary," Dorea quipped. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself in for, Lord Potter, but you'll have to wait to find out. We can't be late for the party."

With a gentle kiss on the cheek, she released him and walked towards the door.

"Come on," she urged, rolling her eyes at him.

Charlus followed dumbly, shaking his head at the woman.

"You'll be the death of me," he muttered, pausing suddenly as he reached the door. "Oh bugger, I forgot to arrange a present for Rosa."

"I already got one," Dorea sighed amusedly, pointing to a neatly wrapped package by the front door.

Charlus breathed a sigh of relief.

"What would I do without you?"

Dorea hummed thoughtfully.

"Probably forget everything," she replied. "Now, we really will be late if you don't get a move on."

"Alright, I'm coming," Charlus huffed with a smirk.

Taking Dorea by the hand, he apparated them to where Harry had instructed, just outside Caithness in Scotland.

"This is his home?" Dorea gasped.

"Bloody hell," Charlus balked. "It must be."

He'd visited Harry's humble house in Godric's Hollow on a number of occasions but had yet to come here.

It was simply as grand as any other pureblood home he'd seen.

"Shall we?" he asked, leading Dorea to the front gate and tapping it with his wand.

After a short delay, a loud hissing filled the air, and the gate creaked open, the magical backlash enough to tear the air from the lungs.

"Well, he's certainly got some impressive protections," Dorea commented.

Charlus could only nod as they walked towards the house.

Harry was quite a terrifying man and fiercely protective of those he cared for. He could only imagine what defences were in place here.

They were shown into the house by an elf who introduced herself as Kora and led through to a large reception room where they found Harry, Minerva, Rosalina, the Flamels, Dumbledore and Dippet, and two others that could only be Minerva's parents.

Harry didn't notice them enter.

He was too busy helping a little redhead on to a training broom whilst Minerva looked on nervously.

"She'll be fine," Harry insisted.

Charlus watched as the girl began gliding around the room, giggling whilst she was followed by her fretting mother.

"How did you manage to pull that off?" Charlus snorted as he approached, nudging a beaming Harry with his shoulder.

"Well, I didn't exactly tell Minerva until a few minutes ago," he admitted sheepishly.

Charlus chuckled as he pulled Dorea forward.

"I'm sure you remember Dorea, my fiancé," he introduced.

Harry nodded and offered the woman a respectful bow.

"I do," he replied.

"Mr Evans," Dorea greeted him.

Harry shook his head.

"I don't call this prat Lord Potter, or your brother Lord Black for that matter. It's just Harry."

Charlus scowled at him, but Dorea laughed, relaxing considerably.

"How very uncouth," Charlus muttered amusedly. "This is why they'll never let you on the Wizengamot."

Harry grimaced at the thought.

"I couldn't think of anything worse than rubbing shoulders with that lot," he commented dryly. "I have to put up with you and Arcturus enough. I'll happily leave the politics to you two."

"Thank Merlin for that," Charlus chuckled. "We don't need you causing more trouble. You'd insult everyone within a few minutes."

"True," Harry agreed as Minerva approached, glaring daggers at him.

"I'll have your hide if anything happens to her on that broom, Harry," she growled.

"It's only a training broom, she'll bounce off anything she bumps into. I had one for my first birthday."

"That explains a lot," Minerva huffed as she turned towards Charlus.

"It's good to see you," she offered warmly.

Charlus smirked, evidently entertained by Harry's chastisement.

"This must be your intended," Minerva continued. "I hope that you're a patient woman. These two are much more alike than you'd think."

"I'm nothing like him!" both Harry and Charlus protested eliciting a knowing look from Minerva.

"I grew up with an overbearing brother," Dorea sighed. "I'm sure I can handle this one."

"Overbearing?" the voice of Arcturus broke in. "I only ever looked out for you."

Dorea hummed, holding out her arms to take Orion from her brother.

"Let's hope you don't grow up to be like him," she murmured.

Arcturus narrowed his eyes at his sister before taking Minerva's hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles.

"It's been a while," he said with a smile. "In the time I last saw you, you somehow got lumbered with him," he added, jerking a thumb towards Harry. "Just say the word, and I can get you out of here."

"I'll bear that in mind if I ever need to escape," Minerva replied, shooting Harry another glare.

"Well, until then, allow me to introduce you to my wife, Melania."

In comparison to Arcturus's rather hard exterior, his wife appeared to be much warmer, an infectious smile tugging at her lips as she greeted them, keeping a hand on her swollen belly.

"Thank you for inviting us," Melania said sincerely. "It's the first time we've been able to do anything as a family."

"You're welcome," Minerva replied. "Come, I'll introduce you to the others."

"Do you think it is a good idea letting the three of them be in the same room?" Arcturus questioned as Minerva led the other two ladies towards the other guests.

"Too late for that now," Charlus sighed. "We can blame Evans for this."

"You two wanted to be here," Harry reminded them.

"Well, there's nothing for it now," Arcturus chuckled as the trio followed to catch up with the others.

They arrived as Minerva was introducing her parents, and Charlus shot Harry a look of concern as they were presented to Arcturus.

Much to his relief, the Lord Black, though reserved, shook Robert McGonagall's hand and offered Minerva's mother the same pleasantry he would any other pureblood woman.

"And this little one must be Evans' offspring," Arcturus chuckled as Minerva finally caught her daughter, preventing her from zooming around the room once more. "She will be a beauty. She's lucky she got her looks from her mother."

Minerva smirked but shook her head.

"No, she got her looks from Harry's mother," she corrected.

Both Charlus and Arcturus looked towards Harry questioningly.

The two of them had long speculated about his parentage, something the man remained tight-lipped about.

"Lord Black, it is a pleasure to meet you," Nicholas Flamel broke in before any further questions could be asked.

Arcturus accepted the offered hand.

"I'm sorry, you have me at a loss."

"Ah, Nicholas Flamel, and my wonderful wife, Perenelle."

The alchemist had evidently achieved his desired effect as Arcturus's eyes widened and any questions he may have had about Harry's parents were all but forgotten.

"The pleasure is all mine," Arcturus insisted enthusiastically. "Harry speaks very highly of you both."

"Of course, he does," Perenelle sighed, her gaze sweeping over Harry. "He knows better than to do anything else."

Arcturus laughed amusedly.

"Well, he doesn't have nice things to say about others."

"Most others are tossers," Harry muttered.

"Not in front of the children, Evans!" Rosalina chastised. "I won't tell you again."

"Bloody hell, I can't even swear in my own home," Harry huffed.

"Wait until the others hear about how under the thumb he is," Arcturus quipped.

"I suppose you'll be telling them the same about yourself, Arcturus," Melania piped up.

Arcturus cursed under his breath, but offered no rebuttal to his wife, something both Harry and Charlus found rather amusing.

"Shut up," the Lord Black grumbled. "You're marrying my sister," he reminded Charlus. "Don't think you will have it easy."

Dorea smiled sweetly and Charlus shot Harry a baleful glare.

"You did this," he muttered. "Now, do I get to hold my goddaughter?"

Charlus had never been around children, and he felt awkward holding the girl who looked up at him curiously, her eyes having been inherited from her father, though Rosa's were bright and innocent.

Harry's own were guarded and hardened from years of adversity and the things he'd experienced.

"Hello," Charlus said awkwardly.

The little girl's lip began to tremble before she cried and Charlus could only look towards Harry for help.

"Well done, Potter," Arcturus snarked. "As ever, you are a hit with the ladies."

"What did I do?" Charlus asked dumbly.

"Nothing," Harry sighed as he took the girl and soothed her, an odd sight of the man who spent much of his time planning military operations. "She just needs some time to get to know you. Would you like to hold her?" he asked Dorea.

She nodded and accepted the little girl, placing her on her hip with practised ease.

"I work in a hospital," she pointed out. "I spend more than enough time with babies."

Charlus conceded the point with a nod.

"Maybe we should open her presents?" Minerva suggested. "She will want to go down for a nap soon."

Charlus watched as Harry and Minerva helped Rosa with the unwrapping.

It was strange that even after everything they had been through these past years, the dynamic they shared had not changed at all, and to see Harry still able to do something so innocent and wholesome was a reward in itself.

Most of the man's life had revolved around the war, and yet, though he had inexplicably changed in many ways, he was still the same boy that wanted little more than a family to call his own.

He had that now, and though the war still weighed heavily on him, in this moment, none would be able to see it.

"I think I might like playing with this more than her," Harry declared with a chuckle as he held up a set of magical animals Dorea had picked out for Rosa.

Opening the box, he took out a Thestral and stared at it fondly before releasing the creature to fly around the room.

His eyes never left it, and Charlus had no doubt there was a story behind his admiration for the creatures judging by the somewhat sad smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I'm sorry I'm late," a breathy Summerbee offered as she stood next to Charlus and Dorea. "Problems when I arrived. Did I miss much?"

"I should have thought of that," Harry said sheepishly as he greeted the woman with a hug. "They didn't give you too much trouble, did they?"

Eleanor shook her head.

"I told them I was here visiting you and they let me go."

Charlus snorted as Minerva looked at the newly arrived woman curiously.

"This is Eleanor Summerbee," Harry introduced her. "She's been very helpful for us during the war."

"You're even more beautiful in person than that photo he carries around," Eleanor commented as she took Minerva's hands in her own.

Minerva raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at Harry questioningly.

The man flushed slightly, his mouth falling agape as he tried to find something to say.

Eleanor broke the silence with a laugh.

"How do you know Harry so well?" Minerva asked.

"Oh, he arrested me a few years ago," the woman replied unashamedly. "I may have robbed a few banks."

"That was you?" Minerva choked.

Eleanor nodded.

"I managed to get six done before he caught me," she boasted. "I think I hold the record for the longest person to evade being captured by The Serpent."

"I still got you in the end," Harry grumbled.

"True," Eleanor conceded. "And I would still be in prison if it wasn't for you and Charlus here."

Both Charlus and Harry frantically shook their heads to shut the woman up, but it was too late.

"What do you mean?" Dorea asked with a frown.

"Ah, I thought you would have known," Eleanor deadpanned, offering Harry an apologetic look.

"Known what exactly?" Minerva pressed.

"We broke her out of an Italian prison," Harry answered, evidently believing it would sound better coming from him.

"You broke her out of prison?" Minerva asked rather calmly.

"We needed her help," Harry defended.

"And how did you break her out of jail?"

Harry cringed at the memory, knowing it would unlikely go down well.

It had been a ridiculous undertaking, a conclusion Charlus had come to long ago upon reflection.

"We might have disguised ourselves as Merepeople to get her out," Harry answered.

"Merepeople? It was an underwater prison?"

"Le Oscure Profondita," Charlus muttered with a shake of his head.

"You two idiots broke into a high security prison to break out a prisoner Harry had put there?" Dorea asked.

It sounded even more ridiculous when it was put like that.

"We were fine," Charlus pointed out. "Even after the, what was it, Harry, Shrake? attacked us."

"A Shrake?" Rosalina gasped.

"We were fine," Harry reiterated. "We didn't expect to run into it."

Minerva released a deep breath as she shook her head.

The woman had grown used to Harry's exploits and didn't have much else to say on the matter.

Arcturus was looking quite smug that he hadn't been involved in it, and Dorea took Charlus's hand and squeezed it, shooting him a look of worry.

He offered her a reassuring smile.

As dangerous as it had been, fighting on the frontline was much more so.

"I shouldn't have said anything," Eleanor sighed.

"No," Minerva snorted. "I know exactly what Harry is like. There's little he could do that would surprise me."

Nicholas chuckled amusedly to himself, though his wife didn't look so pleased.

"What's a Shrake?" Robert McGonagall asked.

"It is a very aggressive fish-like creature that is covered in spikes," Rosalina explained, glaring at her former mentee. "They are exceedingly dangerous and can grow to be an incredible size."

"Don't we know it," Charlus muttered, the memory of Harry disappearing into the depths with the beast not something he would forget. "Don't worry, we don't plan to do anything like that again. Do we, Harry?"

Harry had fallen silent, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow.

"No," he murmured, "but it has given me an idea on how we can get the jump on the Italians," he added with a grin.

Charlus deflated at the declaration, having no doubt that Harry's latest plan would be as brilliant as it was risky.

Arcturus too no longer appeared to be so smug as he glanced between his future brother-in-law and Harry.

"Bollocks," the Lord Black grumbled. "Why have I got the feeling I'm not going to like this."

"You won't," Harry agreed, "but it will bring us a step closer to winning this war."

Charlus shook his head as he looked towards Summerbee, Harry's words on her attending the party echoing in his mind.

"I don't see any reason why you can't come."

Charlus snorted.

This was reason enough.