24. Harry Potter's Hellacious Familial Reunion

Godric's Hollow

It was Thursday. Why did he even know that? It was something that had been a bit of a distraction all of his life, really. A knack for knowing without a shadow of doubt when a Thursday had crept upon him. Harry hated Thursday. He always had, always would from a very young age it seemed that the day of the week was nothing more than an anticipation for the weekend, which when growing up with the Dursleys; as Harry most clearly had, it was a prelude to a weekend in Hell. Hell was a place; that Harry found, many people denied existed whatsoever. He found there what they had denied with every ounce of their being. Would? There be absolutely nothing. A lake? Wouldn't that be lovely; but no, only nothing. He would wander and drift hoping against hopes that today was Wednesday? He would storm from his home in a fit of utter despair and scream at the top of his lungs, right and proper, wailing for his mummy… that and the hope that it bloody well wasn't Thursday, yeah? He, on the other hand, knew that Hell existed. It had been his relatives, after all. How did he get here? Where was here?

Harry sat at the kitchen table surrounded by everyone that he loved. Nymmy. Yes, the beatific and vivacious Nymphadora Lily Tonks-Potter which made his heart go pitter and patter with the anticipation of the things that would come his way when she had always been around. She had been a mystery, until his revelation when he got bits and pieces back from a lost childhood. Unfortunately for Harry, this was the worst possible time for his mind to drift towards thoughts of a lost childhood, having only just recollected what were his last mental images of what he saw come out from the veil. Whomever had said 'Be careful of what you wish for,' needed Lorraina Bobbit to come and make a housecall prior to a brief stop at a nameless intersection.

Luna and Hermione were surrounding his side of the table in a full effort to provide him the support that he needed on this particular Thursday. Why did he need this support, you might find yourself asking. Well, let us just take a look at what sat across from him on the other side of the table. There was Remus Lupin; which until recently, Harry thought to have been the last of the Marauders. That had been a mistake. It was Thursday, now, wasn't it? He had thought that Remus was the last connection that he had with his dead parents whom had died valiantly in a battle against the ultimate evil, Lord Voldemort. Yeah, that thought had been bollocked, too. However, meandering away from thoughts of impending doom and days that began with a TH sound, and looking to the right of Remus he stared in awe, confusion, frustration, hope and finally utter betrayal into the emerald green depths of his mother's eyes which had been identical to his in every way.

"Bloody fucking hate, Thursdays!" Harry muttered to himself a little louder than what he had hoped for only to see a fire of recognition in a kindred spirit of a clanswoman whom he found out without even asking shared an equal opinion of the fabled TH day.

To her right sat Harry Potter's carbon copy in every detail with the exception of the eyes. That didn't make this Thursday any better whatsoever . James seemed to be looking at him with what Harry could only liken to a smug superiority in something that they both shared. Harry didn't know what that was. His only interaction with his father, outside the unconscious rescue from the Department of Mysteries had been what he had watched inside a pensieve of one Severus "Snivellus" Snape. What was worse? What they had done to come back had preserved their bodies just as the left them. They weren't 37 as Remus, Sirius and Peter Pettigrew appeared, all coincidentally on the other side of the table. No, they had all the appearance of being all of twenty, or to Harry three years older than he, himself. How could he even contemplate calling them Mum and Dad. Oh yes, they were of course, but at the same point they had abandoned him.

"Why?" Harry asked almost monotone with no life or joy in his voice. His eyes were still dead-locked on his mum. She said fixed with her hands clasped together atop the table. She flinched, he noticed at the sound of his voice.

"Harry, you have to understand that at the time we thought that it would be the best answer to our situation…" She started rambling and Harry; while frustrated at the response, couldn't help but see some of the similarities with her speech patterns that he had found quite endearing with one of his own wives, Mione.

"Mum, that's not where I was going with my question..." Harry said with what seemed to be an air of finality. He hoped so, at least. He just wanted this particular Thursday business handled so that he could move on and allow his wives to understand his absolute intolerance of this particular day of the week. Bring on Friday, with the hopes that prior to this particular day; which was a TH word; and evermore, they would bring forth a consistency which had been part of the more recent past. Outside of his absent thoughts of Thursday, Harry looked up and saw that his mum had been awaiting his continued thoughts upon the line of where he had left off. It wasn't going on about Thursday, he thought to himself, before sighing. " I understand the things that you did. Bloody Hell, given myself in similar situation, I'd probably have come up with something similar. However that wasn't the direction of my question. Why? Why didn't you put more safe-guards in place to ensure that I would be looked after properly, yeah? You do understand that your sister and her husband weren't exactly the most enamored with my presence and that my upbringing left much to be desired in the public eye. Thankfully, I supposed, I didn't have much of a public presence since I was raised in a one by two meter cupboard for the first ten years of my life away from you." Harry said, still with a voice completely lacking emotion and monotone. His method of delivering this information had been as if quote simple statistics. It had not been lost on those on his side of the table. He felt Nymmy's hand gently squeeze his own, while Luna rubbed her open palm against the top of his thigh, not in a demented perverted sort of manner but that of someone clearly showing support. Hermione had her left arm draped around his shoulder gently rubbed her own hand in a circular motion. Their combined efforts, all four realized kept him from exploding in his normal fashion.

"Harry, you have to know that had not been our intention. We knew that things weren't exactly what they had been portrayed by the professor and we decided to act. Unfortunately we had not planned for the reaction Albus had chosen…" James Potter said with a look of hope in his eyes. However, that look changed slightly from hope to that of close to annoyance when he made eye contact with Nymphadora Tonks-Potter.

Harry looked back at his mum now and saw the anguish that resided within her own eyes. He could tell that if he were to stand, cross the room and open his arms to her now that she would embrace him with an equal enthusiasm to rival Molly Weasley. He didn't want to think about her at the moment, as since the trial he hadn't keep up with anything Weasley, but it wasn't for the sake of deliberation but more along the lines of priority. He made a mental note to visit Arthur and inquire to how the rest of the family are getting along.

"Had you known…" Harry managed to get out without falter. He was proud of himself, however with that pride came back the realization which day of the week it was and then his confidence, shaky thing that it was shook, if only briefly. He looked into his father's eyes and with that realized this wasn't a dream. It wasn't even really a nightmare. Sure, there plan had been riddled with poor judgement and assumptions that didn't have enough forethought, but they were human. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled quite a bit quicker than he would have thought, and by the brief look of disgust in his father's face came to the conclusion that perhaps brushing his teeth before being in close quarters, even with a family member might have had been worth the same forementioned forethought. "Would you have done anything differently, dad? Would you? I mean, come on, be honest. You had a plan of going into some sort of stasis for an undeterminable amount of time and didn't plan to take me with you. With Peter here, there was also an obvious plan of securing his position with Voldemort with his betrayal of us. The problem that I'm having at the moment is Sirius' being in Azkaban. How could you do twelve years in Azkaban willingly?" Harry asked looking directly into his godfather's eyes.

"Harry, if it meant that you were safe and alive and able to make any kind of a life for yourself, I'd have done anything to secure that." Sirius said with complete conviction in his eyes.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, and when he turned and looked at his oldest friend and wife saw the wheels turning behind her brilliant cinnamon eyes. He could always tell when she was working through a problem and this was just that for her at the moment. He could still see the obvious concern in her expression but this was his Mione. He knew her practically as well as he knew himself. "Perhaps if we take a step back and look at the situation itself as it played out back then. Maybe we could gain a perspective of not only how your mum, dad and the others, here, saw the potential problem that they were facing but we might also gain a bit of insight into the machinations of manipulation that our former headmaster was attempting? Remember, above all other things with those horrible relatives of yours, you survived. You're here. You're loved." She finished with a brief smile that had only been marred by the crease in her brow that happened as she noticed him taking all this in.

"Nyphadora." Sirius said with a smirk, as she groaned at the sound of his voice saying her name. "Could you explain to me why you and Harry and Luna and Hermione are now one big happy Potter family?"

"Sirius Orion Black do I have to go on and on about how much I loathe my given name, and even then, your continued use of it is bordering on the barminess that would equal Dumbledore?!" She exclaimed in complete frustration, but ended with a slight smile as Harry gently squeezed her hand.

"Go easy on him, Nim, please? While I'm still more than just a little irritated that this happened, at fifteen months old I wasn't exactly equipped to have a discussion as to their decision making process."

"Listen to your husband, Nymphadora." Sirius said sarcastically.

"UGH! Can I hex him Harry, please?" Nim said now, swelling out her chest and giving herself full pouting lips and big doe eyes.

"Maybe later, dear." Harry said in a placating manner that was lost on everyone present.

That was when he noticed it. It wasn't something that he had been expecting, however it happened and on a Thursday. James Harold Potter's hand rose from where it had been from under the table and came and rested upon Harry's mum's interlaced hands and he watched in somewhat of an awed fashion as his dad gently squeezed his mum's hands. He looked up at his dad and made eye contact and for an instant of a moment had a connection with his dad. He knew now at this moment that they had been alike, although not in a tormenting Severus Snape sort of fashion but more along the lines of wanting the same thing, someone to connect with and to make that someone that they had connected with comforted.

Harry had been lost in his anger. He had been lost in his conspiracy theories. He had been just plain lost but found himself in connecting with his dad on just the plainest level. Harry Potter had craved love on such a primal level of needing something that he had never had, really, since his mum and dad had left. He knew that he was still most certainly and definitely not okay with what they had done with regards to him, however knew that with any plans of that scale came with a certain margin of error.

His mum and dad had the books about the killing curse so that was certainly something that they had had to work with. The one thing that made him hesitant was the fact that it was a guess, at best, that Tom Riddle would use the killing curse on Harry. It was a bet that they had placed all their futures on. If Tom had used the curse, they would simply reverse it. However, Tom Riddle had been raised in a muggle environment and was used to torturing his early victims that way. Had Tom simply wanted to do away with Harry, a knife, or a twisting of the neck and there you have it. One made ready to order corpse, how do you do.

Fortunately for Harry, Tom Marvolo Riddle had been a creature of habit. He liked his unforgivables just as they came, plain and simple. So, Harry having rationalized that fact and come to terms with it realized that the first part of the plan, however flawed, had worked. Looking across the table now, he saw the worry that was in all five of the others eyes. They had a look about themselves that screamed, "Please accept this as the truth because without your acceptance we are all lost. Harry was mad and it was not without just cause. Too many people in the wizarding world placed faith in the ability to play chess with other people's lives. More importantly, they often played it with his life and he was rather tired about the whole imbroglio.

Harry placed a lot of faith in his wives, but the one that he looked towards when all hope of rational reason prevailed was Luna. It wasn't because of her being loony whatsoever, but rather her unique outlook on life and the hidden things that would creep up upon someone if they weren't careful. The one thing that had made her stand out, in school, had been her dreamy way that she looked upon certain situations. Harry had found out, however, that it wasn't dreamy whatsoever. That had simply been Luna's physical manifestation she presented to the public while multitasking problem situations to be solved. She would give code words and simple ideas as a diversion from the real reasons that she had been weighing. Luna Lovegood-Potter was absolutely brilliant at seeing all angles to a situation. She had also been equally brilliant at showing Harry that she was firm in her resolve while Harry's resolve was to shrink her object of affection. Patience, had also played factors there, but that was just his Luna and he loved her for everything that made her, her.

Hours had passed now. Harry sat there in comparable silence taking a moment here and there to glance at the clock. Closer and closer the time drew on and with it this hated Thursday was drawing closer to a close with relatively no impending nor dire consequence. He was thankful for that, truly he was, but Harry Potter was also a true believer that when he anticipates something to go wrong, sooner rather than later that would be the case.

There had been many strained moments and a lot of rather awkward silences. Harry had found himself rather put out at some of the looks that his father had been giving his wife, Nymmy. It would range from curious to angered, from almost lustful(which had Harry at a point of wanting to hex his dad into next week) to frustrated beyond words when his father finally saw that she had truly been the little girl that he remembered when Harry had only been 1 year old. She had set her sights on Harry not for anything else than being her little prince, and that had been the thing that had finally, both, driven his father mad and brought him to the realization that they had truly been soul-mates. The problem of resolving the other two wives was relatively easy for James to solve, when analyzing Nymphadora Lily Tonks-Potter. Potter's dig brainy chicks. Nym, Luna and Hermione all fit into that category.

Godric's Hollow – much much later that evening – Master Suite.

Harry Potter was a nervous wreck, and that was putting things mildly. Thursday's turn of events had effectively brought him what he had sought out in the Mirror or Erised. He had his mum. He had his dad. He had his godfather. Bloody hell, he had his uncle Peter, which was something that Harry James Potter had never expected to get in his life.

Unfortunately for Harry he had his worries, too. Too many things had been going his way far too often for his comfort. The fact of the matter was that it had been Thursday, and usually that was a bad omen, in and of itself. He hated Thursday's because of everything that they had usually brought with them. Pain, disappointment and usually either a beating or hard labour, which meant the beating was self-inflicted.

Harry Potter found himself, laying in bed, one of the luckiest men on the planet. He turned to his left to find Nymmy's firm aroused body pressed against him. Her light purple eyes locked with him with a clear determination which told him that he was hers and that he would bring her pleasure. No words had been spoken, however they didn't need to be when she was mentally broadcast what it was that she wanted of him.

Harry turned now to his right to lock emerald green to cinnamon brown and another true love of his life. Hermione Potter had been his best friend. Looking at her now, she was his rock and stability which allowed him to reach anything level of himself that he just wouldn't have without her. Her natural physical endowments, while completely different from that of Nymmy were just as perfect, if for slightly different and reactive reasons. Her nipples were rock hard and while the physical contact between their two bodies was light, the taught hardened skin brushed against the flesh of his own skin . Looking down, Hermione had caused his growth.

Luna's sapphire blue eyes locked with his. She felt his length and girth expand against her cheek while waiting patiently in her favorite waiting place. Harry felt her ample endowments against his thighs and then the warmth from the inside of her mouth encompasses his length. The pressure that she provided him was beyond anything that she had done previously and with the distractions provided from both Hermione and Nymmy as they each caressed his upper torso. Intermittently he turned from left to right feeling plush full lips crash against his own.

Nymmy was first. Thursday had a way of getting its will across, and he knew that it was too soon to last. At first, he thought that it had been her muggle side coming out giving him a Star Trek fantasy. Her normal pale pink skin started slowly, very slowly changing until it was the same emerald green to match his eyes. This had caused an initial stirring which had only made Luna more enthusiastic. However Nymmy quickly pushed against Harry hard, leaving the bed and making a concerted campaign for entry to the adjoined bathroom.

Harry immediately filled with worry but was quickly turned towards Hermione whom dove for his lips begging entrance. Again, he was lost as her tongue broke the barrier his lips provided only to provide entrance and he lost himself in her. Her nipples, hard and determined pressed against his chest. At the first sound of retching from the closed bathroom door, Harry looked at Hermione whom now demonstrated her own metamorphmagus ability.

Quickly and equally as desperate, Hermione pushed herself up using his body for leverage. Unfortunately, the bathroom had been on the same side of the bed that Nymmy had vacated and she fumbled horribly to get across Harry any and every way that she could, accidentally kicking Luna in the head in the progress.

This too, proved to be horrible for Harry. He was definitely concerned about the two wives whom had left the comforts he was attempting to provide, however the third being the recipient of a accidental but brutal blow to the head found her head pushed forward taking Harry's length to the back of her throat where it temporarily got lodged. She attempted to pull up only to find the sponge-light head stuck.

Harry lost the ability to control his body at what Luna was doing and immediately began to ejaculate, which; in turn, caused a slight swelling on his part. Luna bit down immediately causing a howl of pain from Harry and a loss of this evenings dinner as well as Harry's deposit all over his member and then his abdomen, chest and; unfortunately eyes, when she broke herself free. Harry didn't pay attention to the patter of her feet making the same course as the two previous wife's because of the pain and the banging on the bedroom door.

To his shock, seconds later, the door burst forward revealing a shocked Lily Evans-Potter, James Harold Potter, Sirius Orion Black, Remus John Lupin and finally Uncle Peter. Wiping his face clear of vomit and his own fluids he was just able to make out the crowd of Marauders whom circled his bed.

"Did I mention," Harry started as he saw now his three sickly and quite nude wives standing in the doorway to the adjoining bathroom. "I hate Thursday's?"

A/N: Sorry I've not updated in awhile. I just recently got inspired and decided at the end to put part of the reason as to why this story is called Season of Hell. For those of you that get that reason, glad to have you on board. For those of you whom still don't get it, I think that you will soon. Thanks to Treck for the Beta and encouragement.