It is here! Yay! I am so excited to keep writing Harry's story.

I have also recently changed the name of this story. It was originally Brothers: Here We Go Again and at the start of writing the sequel, it felt right, but recently it hasn't felt like the right fit. If the story was going to end at the end of this then I would have left it, but I know there will be another so it needed something new.

This year we will be going through the events of the chamber of secrets but will have my own take. I plan on making some changes to the actual events that occurred so that it works with my story. I know there were a few readers with concerns about Lily's pregnancy, but I think it will work for the story.

But enough about me...go forth! Read and enjoy!

In the few months that have passed since Harry and Harvey found themselves fighting against their possessed Professor things have certainly changed. Harry faces a new challenge of coming to accept the fact that his mother is pregnant, while also heading back to Hogwarts for his sixth year. He hopes that going back to Hogwarts and focusing on his studies will help him come to terms with his family's future and allow him to get his messed up emotions in line.

The trouble only starts with the ridiculous new Defence Professor that Dumbledore has hired and becomes even more concerning when threatening messages start appearing written on walls. And there is the fact that Harvey is now claiming that he keeps hearing voices. So much for a normal year at Hogwarts.

August 14, 1996

White Oak Manor was silent. Not for the first time that summer, the house had grown still as both father and son who lived there were occupied. Sirius had been attending to Head of House duties while also balancing something else that he had yet to share with anyone, even his own son. And Harrison, Sirius' son, had locked himself away in his potions lab, testing all sorts of possibly dangerous combinations of ingredients.

The lock on Harry's lab had been turned, and a magical ward had been erected. It was very possible that Harry could blow up the room and a good portion of the manor if he was disturbed, meaning he had gone so far as to also write a note and tape it to the door outside. In most cases, for most people, those three things would have guaranteed that the sixteen-year-old wizard would be left in peace; but Harry's family wasn't apart of the 'most cases'.

Throughout the Summer break, between his fifth year and sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry had been tasked by Severus Snape—his Potions Professor and Mentor—to plan out a potion that would enhance an already established elixir or create something entirely his own. He was only supposed to be brainstorming, coming with up ideas and theories, not actually moving towards the testing phase. But Harry's enthusiasm for his idea had pushed him further than he intended. There was also the need that he was desperate for a distraction. His potion was the one thing that allowed him to focus solely on something other than the other thing that he wasn't totally pretending wasn't a big deal.

Harry carefully dripped two drops of Hemlock into the boiling green liquid and smiled as it turned a teal blue. He pushed the cork back into the Hemlock bottle, made a note of the reaction in his Potion's Journal before storing the Hemlock back on the shelf.

The only issue with his distraction was that it had already led to him forgetting about important dates with a certain blonde-haired beauty that was his girlfriend. Twice, Fleur had shown up at White Oak Manor looking for Harry. Both times, she found him with his nose buried in either reference material or potion ingredients. The first time she had laughed it off, it hadn't bothered her at all; that was what she had told him at least. The second time there was no ignoring the particularly angry face that graced his girlfriends normally smiling lips.

Harry was aware that he had plans with Fleur later in the day. Still, he had made sure that they met at White Oak Manor to avoid him possibly leaving her waiting for an hour again. She could arrive and have one of the house-elves, who all knew how volatile Harry's experimenting could be, to carefully announce her presence. He had tried to make sure that his distraction didn't get him too carried away, but he was becoming slightly obsessed.

Ever since the idea had struck him at Malfoy Manor, the possibilities kept going around and around in his head. Harry wasn't even certain what caused the thought to appear, but he stopped Carlisle, who was mid-sentence, and wrote it down when it did. The idea was simple, really. He wanted to create a substance that would nullify the effects of another potion. It would be used as a safety measure; if someone swallowed poison, they could drink Harry's potion, and it would nullify the effects; if someone caused a cauldron to melt and a dangerous combination spilt onto the floor, you could pour it over what was left and stop it from harming everyone. Harry knew that there was probably already certain potions that could do something similar, but who wanted to have an individual fix for every single thing when you could just have the one.

Harry looked down at his notebook and considered what else he might need to add. He had used Hemlock because it had a paralysing agent, but he needed something that would make sure that the Hemlock wouldn't just kill or injure someone if it touched them; after all, Hemlock was poisonous.

Closing his book, he glanced at the simmering potion and decided that he needed to let the thought sit for awhile. Harry learned that small ideas or theories tended to pop up when he put his feet up for a short break. He waved his wand over his cauldron and placed it in stasis before cleaning up the rest of his space.

He left his lab, taking down the ward and sign, and carried his notebook with him back to his bedroom. Harry considered reaching out to Snape to ask him, but he wasn't ready for the most definite scolding he would get. No doubt Snape would yell at him, might even smack him over the head, but Harry couldn't just let this idea simmer. He needed to see what he could do.

The door to Harry's bedroom was normally closed; he paused slightly when he saw the door ajar but shook it off as he walked inside. He stopped completely, though, when he found Fleur. Her back was to him as she lay across his bed on her stomach. Harry couldn't stop himself from admiring her long bare legs; his fingers itched to move along her soft skin. Fleur seemed to be sleeping soundly with her head rested on her crossed arms; the book that rested beside her—one from Harry's shelf—was still lying open.

He wondered how long she had been there.

Harry placed his notebook down on his desk and kicked off his shoes. He grabbed the book Fleur had out, marked her page, and placed it on his bedside table before crawling across the bed to lay down beside her. His movement jostled Fleur enough that she left out a small sigh before reaching out her hand. Her fingers found his chest, and a smile graced her lips.

"How is your potion?" she asked without opening her eyes.

Harry said, "Fine, why didn't you tell me you were here?"

He reached out his hand to push back her hair; it covered her face; he wanted to see her properly. Fleur leant into his touch and turned over onto her side so that she was facing him.

She said, "I was early, and I know how important your studies are to you. I thought I would just read until you took a break, but it seems I drifted off."

Fleur's hand moved across his chest and slid around the back of his neck to play with strands of his hair. Over the past few months, Harry's hair had grown long enough that he could tie it back if he wanted too. Fleur had commented on how much he looked like his father; the soft curls that had formed on the ends only added to the similarities.

"I would have happily put my stuff away if I had known you were here," said Harry.

She sighed and opened her eyes. She blinked slowly before her smile widened. Her dark blue eyes seemed to sparkle at Harry; he had always felt like he could get lost staring into them. He often told her that they reminded him of the sky at dusk. Just as the sun was finally disappearing beyond the horizon, the blue would darken, and the stars would appear. The pink flush that would grace her cheeks when he would mention it only made her more stunning.

"I know," she said.

Fleur's hand around Harry's neck applied enough pressure to tell him to lean closer. Fleur pulled herself up slightly, pressing her chest against his and moving her legs to tangle with his. She licked her lips, and Harry couldn't help but smile before leaning down to press his lips to hers.

There was something about kissing Fleur that had always just seemed so right. The soft of her velvet lips against his made him want to never break away, the soft moans and little whimpers that would slip from Fleur's mouth sent need flooding through him, the way one hand would always grasp the roots of his hair and when she would tug it would pull noises from him that he never knew he could make. It was all overwhelming when their relationship had been so new, but they had almost been together for nine months, and now it was an addictive activity that Harry found himself wanting more of.

The two teenagers shifted; Harry rolled himself over so that he could kneel over Fleur. One of his knees settled between her thighs, the placement causing the dress that she was wearing to bunch up high around her thighs. Harry leant one arm beside Fleur's head, holding himself up so that he didn't squash her, and then used his other hand to finally touch the silky white skin of her legs.

The two of them hadn't gone as far as sex. Neither Harry nor Fleur were virgins, they had discussed that early on, but Harry knew that Fleur wanted to take things easy. When their relationship had just started, Harry had rushed through it in his mind, declaring that he loved her very early on—which had been true, he did love her—but it was too much too fast. Since then, they had just taken things as they happened; if it felt right, then they didn't; if it got too much, they stopped. For them, it had worked, but there were moments when Harry found himself wanting more but not knowing if Fleur was ready or if he was.

Fleur's hand slid down Harry's back; he could feel her nails through the material of his shirt. He smiled against her mouth as he felt her pull the shirt out from where he had it tucked into his pants, before sliding both hands beneath the shirt and across his bare skin. The sensation of her nails sent chills through him, his body reacting, his male member started to harden between his legs.

Fleur broke their kiss and took in a gasp of air. Harry smirked and pressed small kisses against her jaw and then nibbled his way along her skin to her long neck.

Fleur said, "Maybe I should have interrupted you."

Harry chuckled against her throat. "Maybe."

He slid the hand on Fleur's thigh up and beneath her skirt and danced the tip of fingers across her panties. Like always, the lace material was soft against his fingers and thin enough that he could feel the heat of her body through them.

Fleur moaned at his touch and lifted her hips slightly; her movement brushed the thigh that sat between Harry's legs against his hardened member. He groaned and shifted his position. Harry settled himself between both of Fleur's legs and pressed his crotch against hers. He pulled his face away from her throat as he pressed down and enjoyed the flush look on her face.

"Are we teasing today?" she asked, gasping.

"You always complain, but you love it when I tease."

He kissed her again, their lips slowly moving together. Harry pushed his hips forward, causing friction between him and Fleur. She groaned against his mouth, the vibrations running through him.

The sound of thumping feet caught Harry's ear. He pulled back from kissing Fleur, causing her to whimper. Harry almost ignored the noise and dove back in to kiss her, but his bedroom door swung open.

"Harry—ARRHH!"

Harry spun around to see his younger half brother, Harvey Potter, standing in the door with his hands over his eyes.

"Harvey! What did I tell you about knocking?" shouted Harry.

It wasn't the first time Harvey had run in on them. It had only ever happened at the Potter's house in Godric Hollow, not at White Oak.

Fleur shifted beneath Harry; she was trying to push down her skirt. Harry lifted himself off her and helped her pull down her dress before standing up and going over to his brother. He grabbed Harvey by the scruff of his shirt and dragged him out of the room and into the hallway.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry," chanted Harvey.

"You will be," grumbled Harry.

He pushed Harvey a few steps away from his door. Not hard enough to make him fall, but enough to get the point across that he was pissed.

"I didn't know Fleur would be here," said Harvey.

"It doesn't matter," said Harry. "You knock before you enter someone's bedroom."

Harvey scrunched up his face but sighed. "I know; I'm sorry."

"If you know, then why did you charge in?"

Harvey clicked his tongue. The gears in his head clearly trying to come up with a valid excuse. "I was excited?" he said.

Harry frowned. "Is that a question or a statement?"

Harvey shrugged.

It had been like this for most of the summer. Harvey and Harry had spent plenty of time together; quidditch matches, muggle cinemas, chess, exploding snap, all of the day's Harry had spent at the Potter's. They had spent more time together in the past few months than they had their whole lives. And it had been great, Harry had enjoyed the brotherly bonding, but Harvey seemed to have forgotten about personal boundaries. He would have never dared to enter Harry's room without knocking before, but now it was like Harry had an open door policy.

"Was there something you actually wanted? I was busy," said Harry.

Harvey frowned as he thought. It seemed in all the interrupting he had forgotten the whole reason he had come over.

"This was great, bro, but I have a girlfriend to get back too."

Harvey grabbed him before he could walk off.

"I remember now," he said.

Harry stopped.

"Mum and Dad wanted me to ask you if you could come over for dinner tomorrow night. You and Uncle Padfoot are invited."

Harry held in the heavy sigh that wanted to fall out.

"You could have just sent an owl."

"I know. But I thought maybe if you weren't busy that we could play Quidditch."

It was almost sweet how Harvey looked up at Harry with big eyes that said he wanted to hang out with his big brother. Harry let the annoyance of his brother interrupting go and patted Harvey on the shoulder.

"Not today. I am spending it with Fleur."

Harvey pouted but nodded.

He said, "Alright. Tell Fleur I'm sorry."

Harry smiled. "I will. Tell Mum I will ask Dad.."

With Harvey walking off down the hallway, Harry walked back into his room. Fleur was sitting on the edge of the bed, her cheeks were still flushed, but he knew the mood had been ruined.

"The joys of having younger siblings," she said.

Harry moved over to sit down beside her. He took her hand in his and squeezed it.

He said, "Gabi would never interrupt you."

Fleur smirked. "That's because she has experienced my wrath before."

"Yes, well, I am trying not to scare my brother off, remember. We are supposed to be bonding."

Fleur bit down on her lip. "You sound more annoyed about that than usual," she said.

"I am a little; Harvey can just be a lot sometimes."

"It wouldn't happen to be because of a certain announcement from your mother, would it?"

Harry clenched his jaw. "No."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Sure, that sounded real believable."

Harry huffed.

"I thought you had decided that you weren't going to let your issues cloud your acceptance of the situation."

"That is the plan. But the fact that my mother is pregnant, almost twelve years later, isn't helping my fucked up emotional brain. That stupid voice in my head keeps poking me and telling me that she is at it once again, replacing me with another child. A better one."

Fleur lifted her hand to rest of Harry's head. She gently stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

"You know that isn't true."

"Logically, I do. Emotionally, it seems I don't."

It had been the day Harry had returned from Hogwarts that his mother had shown up and announced her pregnancy. It had shocked everyone; no one had expected it at all. Lily had broken down before Harry after she told him; a flood seemed to break inside her. Harry hadn't known how to feel, but he made sure to comfort his mother in that moment. Harry didn't know how he had convinced her that he would be fine, but he had done. Only once she had returned home did Harry's brain go into overdrive, and he had his own breakdown in his bedroom.

It had taken a few days for him to understand what was going on inside him. Harry had fallen back into an old habit of shutting himself off but was quickly pulled out of it by his father and Godfather. The two adults had sat him down and talked it through with him. Harry hadn't wanted to cooperate at; first he had tried to pull away, but he was thankful when they helped him understand that it was his old fears rearing their ugly heads. Harry knew that we hadn't completely healed from his childhood trauma; he still had feelings that told him he was replaceable, that his parents never wanted him, that his sibling—now siblings—were what his mother actually wanted. When the thoughts had overwhelmed him again, he admitted to his father that he was scared. Sirius had held him, told him that it was okay to be scared but that he had no need to be.

Now, weeks had gone by, but the thought of his Mum being pregnant was still messing with him. Fleur had been really good at helping him deal; she seemed to enjoy calling me out for his feelings that—while understandable—weren't true. She made sure to tell him that he was loved and wanted and then would make sure he would say it back to her before they would move on.

"Harry, I love you. Your Mum and Dad love you. This baby is just going to be another person who loves you." Fleur pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Leaning into her touch, Harry wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. He didn't know if he could have gotten through the past nine months if he hadn't met Fleur. She had surprised him in so many ways, helped him heal, and was the perfect fit for him. He hoped he would never have to experience life without her.

"Would you come with me to dinner at my mother's house tomorrow?" he asked.

Fleur stroked his cheek. "Absolutely."

"Thank you."

Harry would make sure to speak to his father about dinner and make sure to mention the addition. But first, he wanted to stay with Fleur in her arms.

Annabell Winter's office was rather cool. The window that looked out over a series of London rooftops was propped open, and a refreshing breeze was sliding through. It rustled the pages of the documents that had been weighed down on her desk and flickered the lit wick of the scented candle that sat on top of one of the smaller bookshelves.

It wasn't the first time that Sirius found himself sitting in Anna's office. Ever since the young woman had met with Harry back in January, Sirius found himself coming to talk to her for advice about his son. She was the one person who understood Harry's situation and was able to give Sirius an unbiased view. Anna had also helped him with a few of his own personal problems, mainly relationship advice.

Sirius had never really found himself in a relationship that he saw as something that would last long term. He had dated plenty of women, all of them beautiful and clever; some were questionable—that was certain—but not one of them had ever made him feel any kind of love. Sirius had wondered if he would ever find someone that he could love or that might love him.

After the first few visits between Sirius and Anna, she had encouraged him to think about it. If he wanted to find someone to love, he needed to know what he was looking for. Sirius had dwelled on the thought for weeks, and it wasn't until the day that Harry got back from Hogwarts did it hit him like a bludger. Sirius wanted someone who made him laugh, who was smart, strong, and loving. He also wanted someone who would love Harry as much as he did, who would be there for him no matter what was going on. It was typical of him not to realise that there was already someone right beside him who did all that.

Remus had been his best friend for so long. They had gone through so much crap together at Hogwarts, then afterwards during the war, and through all of the years of raising Harry. Remus had never left him, even after the mistakes he had made. He was Sirius' rock. And for Harry, Remus had always been there for his Godson, to guide him, to help him. Remus loved Harry as his own.

It had been a bit of a shock when the realisation had washed over Sirius. He had spent that evening trying to sort through his thoughts and had allowed himself to get drunk. It wasn't blackout drunk, but he had been a staggering mess that had Remus and Harry laughing at his silliness. When they made it back to White Oak Manor, Harry had left Sirius in Remus' care. His oldest friend had helped him up the stairs to his bedroom, dealing with Sirius' overly touchy caresses and slurred words. He had helped Sirius take off his clothes and collapse onto the bed. Remus had pulled the covers over Sirius, and even drunk Sirius had surprised himself when he reached out, grabbed Remus' shirt and had pulled him in for a messy drunken kiss.

The morning after had left Sirius mortified by his actions; he had no idea what he was supposed to say to Remus and found himself panicking that his choice could have ruined everything that had shared. Was that it? Had he lost all of his friends? Sirius had reached out to Anna that day; she had helped calm his mind and help him see that it would be okay. Sirius just needed to talk to Remus without any alcohol and make sure they understood the whole thing. The whole thing being that Sirius, at some point, had developed feelings for his best friend and had unintentionally acted upon those feelings while highly intoxicated.

It took Sirius four days to reach out to Remus. The fear that his friend would reject him sat in the back of his mind, loudly shouting that he was going to lose everything. But Remus did what Remus did. He showed up at White Oak Manor, on an afternoon that Sirius had been certain that Harry would be out, and joined Sirius in the sitting room for tea. For the first ten minutes, Sirius had stared at his teacup, unable to look his friend in the eye. He tried to start small talk, but the words seemed to clog his throat and come out in stutters.

Remus seemed to understand Sirius more than Sirius had ever known. The werewolf had stood from where he had been sitting across from him and removed the shaking cup from Sirius' hands. One of his warm hands wrapped around his hand, the other reached up to cup his cheek. The warmth of his touch seemed to silence the voice but speed up his heart rate.

"I didn't know you ever saw me as anything other than a friend," said Remus.

Sirius bit down on his bottom lip and gripped Remus' hand tightly. "I didn't even know how I felt until the other day."

"Miss Winters?" he asked.

Sirius nodded. "She's clever that one."

Remus' thumb stroked Sirius' cheek. "That she is."

"I'm sorry I kissed you when I was drunk."

Remus smiled. "I'm not."

Sirius felt surprise and relief in his chest.

"If you hadn't been drunk, you probably would have gone on thinking about the 'what if's' for another sixteen years."

Sirius' cheeks warmed and turned pink.

"And I don't know if I could deal with another sixteen years of pining."

"You have felt something for sixteen years?" asked Sirius.

Remus nodded. "It wasn't until after Harry was born that I noticed it. You grew up, somewhat."

Sirius chuckled.

"Suddenly, you had this child to take care of, and you were so strong and determined to do your best. I found myself seeing you as a man and not my annoying best friend."

Sirius' heart was pounding in his chest.

"I knew that I loved you for the first time the day that Harry took his first step. And since then, I have never looked back."

Without even thinking about it, Sirius shifted closer to Remus. Their thighs were touching; he brought their joined hands against his chest and rest his chin on their knuckles. He said, "I'm sorry that I made you wait so long."

It was how their first kiss should have been. Deep, slow, and full of every emotion they both felt. It had scared Sirius how deep his feelings were for this man, but the more time he stood by his side, the more he knew he never wanted to lose it.

Two months later and things seemed to be going well. Sirius felt a little ridiculous when the butterflies in his stomach would dance when Remus walked into a room, his heart would skip at any form of touch, and his heart ached when Remus was gone for too long. Sirius felt like a teenage girl dealing with her first relationship.

But their relationship wasn't an issue. Both Sirius and Remus were happy and feeling good, and they were ready to share it with other people. That was what had lead Sirius to meeting with Anna again. The first person he wanted to tell was Harry, and Sirius was terrified. Remus had tried to reassure him that Harry would have no issue with them; he loved them both and would probably be glad that his father would no longer be bringing home random women. But Sirius just couldn't let it go.

Anna had sat down across from Sirius after making them both some tea and had started by asking about Remus and their relationship. It had helped relax Sirius to see her genuine smile when he told her about their first 'real' kiss.

"So things are going well then?" she asked.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, really well. We are taking things slow; Remus thought it best that we take the time for our change in relationship to settle before we have sex."

"What do you think?"

Sirius nibbled his lip. "I think that I haven't gone so long without sex in a long time and that I'm feeling a little horny."

Anna chuckled. "That's not surprising."

"The horny part or the length of time without sex?"

"Both." Anna made a note on her parchment. "Have you told Harry?"

Sirius sighed. "No. The is actually why I am here."

"You have concerns about his reaction."

Tilting his head side to side, Sirius said, "Kind of. I don't think Harry will have any issue with the fact that Remus and I are both men, and I don't think he will object to Remus; he loves him like a second father." Sirius cracked his knuckles. "I am afraid that Harry will think I am finding someone to replace him."

"Like he did when Lily had Harvey?"

Sirius nodded. "Exactly."

"Harry may experience that type of response. He has gone through a lot, spent most of his childhood feeling like Harvey was the son that Lily always wanted. However, Remus has always been a factor in his life, someone who has loved him and tried to support him." Anna sat forward on her chair. "I think you are probably best off telling him sooner rather than later. The longer you leave it, the more it could affect him."

"But what do I do if he does feel like I'm replacing him?" asked Sirius.

"You make sure that he knows that you're not."

After Lily had announced her pregnancy, Harry's emotions had taken a hit. Sirius had watched his son struggle to accept that his mother was having another child. He had done everything he could to assure Harry that it would be different and that Lily wasn't going to make the same mistakes again. But Sirius also knew that it was really Lily who needed to be the one to assure him. However, it made it difficult when Harry was so good at pretending to be okay that it seemed Lily hadn't caught on to Harry's true reaction.

"Thank you, Annabell."

Anna smiled. "You are welcome."

Remus was waiting outside of Annabell Winter's office for Sirius. He had taken a seat on a bench just around the corner and was reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. The werewolf had offered his partner a wide smile before standing up.

He asked, "What did she say?"

Sirius sighed. "Everything you already said."

Remus let out a low chuckle. "So…I was right."

Sirius shook his head and smiled. He nudged the werewolf before they started walking to the elevators. "Yes, you were."

Remus reached out and took Sirius' hand, their fingers laced together, and he pressed a kiss on the side of Sirius' head. It was one thing that Sirius had learnt quickly, Remus wasn't shy about public displays of affection. They kept it to a minimum just in case someone they knew popped up since they didn't want it to get back to Harry, but Remus took any opportunity to kiss or touch him, no matter where they were. It felt good to have someone want to touch him so much.

"Did you want to tell Harry over dinner tonight?" asked Remus.

Sirius nodded. "Yeah, probably a good idea. Fleur is over. She will help if things go south."

Remus squeezed Sirius' hand. "Things won't go south. I think Harry will be thrilled for the both of us."

They stepped into the elevator, and Sirius leant against the wall.

"I hope so."

A projected image of two muggles riding along in a car played on the far wall. Harry was stretched out with a few pillows behind his back to prop himself up. Fleur was snuggled against his side, leg thrown over his, arm draped over his waist, and face pressed against his chest. After their make out had been interrupted by Harvey and the mood became somewhat sombre as they discussed Lily's pregnancy, Fleur had suggested they watch a film.

It was a muggle creation; a series of moving images would tell a story that would be projected onto a wall or white cloth. Harry had seen such a thing before, his mother had often taken him and Harvey to the cinemas when they were younger, but the kind that Fleur had set up was an older film style. The picture was in black and white, and the sound was somewhat distorted like a radio, but it could be rather enjoyable.

Fleur shifted in her spot and lifted her eyes away from the film to look up at him.

Harry lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. He said, "I can see the gears in your mind turning."

Fleur smiled. "I was just thinking about tomorrow."

"Dinner with the family," Harry sighed. "Nothing you haven't experienced before."

It was the third week of the holidays when Harry caved to Lily's request to meet Fleur. At first, Harry hadn't been comfortable enough to properly introduce his girlfriend to his mother. Things were strained, and having Fleur separate from his family meant he had an escape. But he knew that sooner or later, they would need to meet.

The actual dinner was at White Oak; Lily, James and Harvey all came over and join Harry, Fleur, Sirius and Remus. The whole night went fine. Lily seemed to like Fleur, not that her opinion of Fleur would have changed Harry's mind, and they spent a good portion of the night talking. When his mother finally left, Fleur had commented that 'if Lily hadn't traumatized him so, she might really like her.' That solidified in Harry that Fleur would always be on his team, no matter what. Not that he didn't already know that, but the doubts in his mind grew silent afterwards.

"I wonder if Sirius will finally admit what is going on," said Fleur.

Harry rolled his eyes. "My father isn't sleeping with my Godfather."

Fleur smirked. "Want to place a bet on that?"

Harry frowned. "No."

"That's because you know I'm right."

It was true that his father and Godfather had been acting strange over the past few weeks. They had always spent a lot of time together before; that wasn't the strange part, though. Harry had noticed, not long after his return home, that Sirius and Remus both seemed to make a conscious effort to stand a certain distance apart. Remus would take a few steps back whenever Harry would enter a room; Sirius—who was touchy-feely with everyone—seemed to make an effort not to touch Remus at all.

Fleur's theory was that they had started seeing each other. The idea that his father and Godfather had started dating didn't bother Harry; if they made each other happy, then he would support them. But Harry knew his father. Sirius had always been drawn to Remus. Harry realised a while ago that the oblivious man harboured something more than friendship for the werewolf, but Sirius would probably never realise it. If by some miracle, Sirius had, then he wished them the best.

"Why else would they be acting so strange?" asked Fleur.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. But my father is too oblivious."

"Maybe Remus finally decided to take matters into his own hands and show your dad exactly what he was missing." Fleur giggled.

Harry cringed. "I don't need that mental image, thank you."

Fleur pulled herself to sit up and leant over Harry. She said, "What image? The one of your father being bent over?"

Harry frowned. "Yes, that."

Fleur smiled widely; she was pleased with herself. She moved to straddle Harry's waist and rested her hands on his shoulders. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Maybe I can give you something better to visualise instead."

Leaning down, Fleur kissed him. Even with the disturbing visual she had given him moments ago, Harry's mind went blank, and he found himself being drowned in everything Fleur. Their lips moved together slowly; Harry placed his hands on her hips and pulled her body flush against his. Fleur ran her fingers across Harry's shoulders before slipping one behind his head to tangle in his hair.

It was easy to get lost in Fleur. Her taste, her touch, her smell. It was overwhelming and beautiful. Sometimes Harry wondered if his desire for her was amplified because of her Veela D.N.A. He knew that his feelings for her had nothing to do with her Veela side, but his curiosity wondered if it just made everything that much…more.

Reaching a hand up to cup her neck, Harry rolled them over. He trapped Fleur beneath him and settled himself in between her legs. A small giggle escaped Fleur's mouth from the movement, and the hand that wasn't tangled in his hair slid around his side to run her nails down his back.

Breaking the kiss, Harry nudged his nose against Fleur's and said, "I love you."

Fleur's face had flushed from their kissing, but it seemed to only deepen from his words.

Harry had admitted his feelings very quickly for Fleur not too long after they had started dating. It had been much too fast, and now that Harry looked back, he knew he had pushed Fleur too hard too fast. He had been desperate to make sure that he wouldn't lose her; he knew now that it was unlikely that he would.

Fleur's finger stroked his cheek. "I love you too."

The day that she had actually said it was out of nowhere and not in a romantic moment. They were in the Delacour family home, sitting at the breakfast table. Fleur's family had already left, leaving the two teenagers alone, and Harry had been enjoying the freshly made scones when Fleur just blurted it out. Harry had almost choaked on the scone in his mouth, but after a lot of coughing and sputtering, Harry had kissed Fleur and asked her to say it again and again.

Now, he liked to see how often he could get her to say it.

Harry pressed another kiss to her mouth. "I love you."

Fleur giggled. "I know you do."

"Hey," he complained.

Fleur pressed a firmer kiss to Harry's mouth to silence him.

About an hour or so later, Sirius returned home with Remus. Harry and Fleur had moved to sit on the couch, both of them reading when the two adults walked into the sitting room.

"How has your afternoon been?" asked Remus.

Harry sighed. "It was good, only one small annoyance."

Fleur nudged his stomach. "He apologised."

"Doesn't make it alright."

"Harvey interrupt you two again?" asked Sirius.

Harry nodded. "The boy has forgotten how to knock."

"He was excited," said Fleur, "he invited us all for dinner at the Potter's tomorrow."

Sirius nodded. "Right. Did you want to go?" He looked at his son.

"Yeah, I'm not bothered."

"Alright then, I will send a letter to your mother."

"Remus, you should come too," said Fleur.

"I'm sure he is already invited," said Harry.

Remus smiled. "No doubt a letter is waiting for me at home."

"Why are you here, Remus?" asked Harry.

"I was with your dad."

Harry frowned. "But Dad, you said you were working."

Sirius' mouth popped open, then closed, then opened, and then he looked at Remus. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and his eyes widened.

Remus smirked and held in a laugh.

"Moony helps me sometimes," said Sirius.

Harry snorted. "No, he doesn't."

A long sigh came out of Sirius.

"Just tell him, Padfoot," said Remus.

Sirius' jaw clenched, and he moved to sit in front of Harry on the coffee table. He swallowed and seemed to think of what to say.

Harry knew what his father was going to say. Fleur was right. They were dating. To save his father from falling all over himself, Harry closed his book and said, "You two are dating, aren't you?"

Sirius frowned and paused with his mouth open.

Remus walked over and sat beside Sirius on the table and nodded. "We are."

Harry smiled as did Fleur.

She said, "I knew it."

Harry chuckled. "Of course."

"You knew?" asked Sirius.

Fleur nodded. "Your attempts to make it seem like nothing had changed made it very much obvious that something had."

"Oh."

"I will admit," said Harry, "that I didn't think you would ever realise you felt something for Remus, so I am going to assume that you had some help. But either way, I'm glad you finally had some sense knocked into you."

Sirius looked stumped. "You knew?"

"Dad, you have always looked at Remus with this look that told me exactly how you felt about him."

"Oh." Sirius' astounded face flushed, and he hid his hands behind his hands.

"There isn't a need to be embarrassed, Padfoot." Remus placed his hand on Sirius' back and reached over to pull his hand away.

"How? My own son realised what I didn't." Sirius looked up at his son and saw Harry's grin.

"Dad, it's okay."

Harry wanted his Dad to be happy; he had grown up seeing his father alone, and Harry never wanted him to stay that way. If Remus made him happy, then Harry would support them.

"Thanks, bud." Sirius stood up and pulled Harry into a hug.

A little later, Harry found himself alone with Fleur again. They were still sitting on the couch in the sitting room, except Harry was lying across the couch with his head in Fleur's lap. She was running her fingers through his hair and humming softly.

Sirius and Remus had left them two be, and Harry tried not to think about what they had gone off to do. Harry was truly happy for his father, but there was a small voice in his mind. His father had only ever had him; Harry was his world. But with Remus, his father wouldn't be alone anymore. What if he no longer needed Harry?

"What's going on in that head?" asked Fleur.

Harry grasped her hand and said, "Just more doubts."

"About your father?"

Harry nodded.

"You know that both your father and Remus love you."

Again, he nodded.

"And they would never choose one another over you." Fleur tugged softly at his roots. "Tell those voices that they are wrong and don't let them make you second guess how anyone thinks or feels about you."

Harry smiled. "What would I be without you?"

Fleur smirked. "A bigger mess than you already are."

They both laughed. Harry knew that she was a hundred per cent right.