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“What the hell, mate?”
Ron stood at the entrance of Harry’s bedroom, eyebrows furrowed and a confused expression in his eyes. He had opened the door to find a frantic Harry striding up and down the room, hastily grabbing things and tossing them inside a huge suitcase that laid open on his bed. The room was a mess. The cupboard doors were wide open and the neat piles of clothes that had formerly filled them were either scattered around the room or already inside the bag. His collection of Snitches seemed to have undergone the same fate, and even his Quiddich posters were no longer decorating the walls.
“I’m packing.”
“I can see that. But where in Godric’s name are you going that you need to pack”—he gestured all around him, exasperated—”everything?”
Harry looked at his friend sheepishly.
“I’m moving out.”
“You what?” His mouth dropped open. “But just the other day you said you lo—”
“I know what I said, Ron” Harry cut him sharply. “And I do love living with you both. However, that was before you know what. But don’t worry,” he continued in a nonchalant tone. “I’ll find a nice flat not too far from here and, in the meantime, I’ll stay at Grimmauld Place.”
“You’ll stay where?” Ron couldn’t believe his ears.
“Grimmauld Place.”
“But Harry, mate, you hate it there!”
“I know, Ron. But it’s not as if I can keep living with you now,” he said, looking at his friend pointedly.
Realisation dawned on Ron. “Oh, shite. Merlin, Harry, that’s not—” He groaned, putting his hands behind his head. He took a few deep breaths and shouted, “‘Mione! We’re having a serious crisis in here!”
Before Harry had time to protest, Hermione was striding into the room.
“I swear, you two will drive me mad. What happened this time?” Her amused exasperation swiftly turned into mild concern as she took in the scene in front of her. “Everything okay, Harry?”
“Yes, Hermione. And we’re not having a crisis,” he added, glancing sternly at Ron.
“Yes, we are! He’s moving out to Grimmauld Place because you’re pregnant!”
A heavy silence fell upon the room.
Harry looked at his feet, fidgeting, unable to face his friends. He had been dreading this moment since the very day he moved in with them. They had worked so well together. Harry loved chatting with Hermione late into the night and messing around with Ron while she tried to read. He loved playing with new ingredients in the kitchen while his friends inconspicuously disappeared into their bedroom to emerge an hour later, still looking flushed, ready to try the latest of Harry’s culinary experiments. He loved sharing meals with them, revelling in the warmth of both their conversation and their companionable silence. But Harry knew this happiness had an expiration date: the day Ron and Hermione decided to start a real family, one in which the guest room wasn’t occupied by a mere friend, but by their child, making it no longer a guest room. He had known it would happen soon. Ginny and Luna already had a one-year-old daughter. Neville and Hannah had been expecting for months now. But it still took him by surprise.
Hermione had told them she was pregnant the day before. Ron had been ecstatic. Harry had tried to smile. He was happy for them, he truly was. And he already loved the child that would arrive into their lives a few months later. But he couldn’t shake off the weight that had fallen on his heart. He had resigned himself to the fact that at some point his friends would move on without him. Start a life of their own that didn’t involve him, at least not as much as it had before. A part of him envied them. He loved children and wanted them to be a part of his life but the possibility of fatherhood appeared unreachable to him. He didn’t desire a partner and he didn’t want to raise a kid on his own. If he was being honest with himself, he wanted to live with his friends forever and be a part of their family. But he didn’t allow himself to revel in this fantasy, he knew it wouldn’t happen and that indulging in it would do him more harm than good.
That morning he had seen Hermione sneak Ron into their bedroom. She wore that concentrated look that meant a serious conversation was about to happen. They had quickly cast a Muffliato, but not before Harry could hear Hermione’s voice murmuring his name. He was certain they were discussing Harry’s presence in their home. A nuisance, now that they were about to become parents. An intruder in their happy family, an obstacle to their intimacy. He didn’t want to bother them anymore. He had to move out. The thought kept nagging at him all day. By sundown, he had already started to pack.
Hermione was the first to break the silence.
“Oh, Harry… You know you don’t have to leave because of that, right?”
“Of course I have to, Hermione. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, anyway,” he lied.
“Oh, okay. If you want to move out we’re happy for you and will help you with everything you need. But…” She swallowed and blinked several times. “Is this really what you want or what you think we want? Because—”
“I know you want me to go. I heard you talking about me this morning”, Harry retorted.
“But that’s the thing, mate, we don’t want you to go!”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat and he looked at Hermione, eyes wide, trying not to appear too vulnerable but failing miserably. Softly, she asked, “What exactly did you hear, Harry?”
“Well, I didn’t exactly… hear much. I overheard you saying my name and I assumed—”
“And you assumed we wanted to kick you out? Merlin!”
“I’m just a guest, after all, I have to leave at one point or another, anyway,” Harry snapped defensively.
“Oh, Harry!” Hermione gasped, looking on the verge of tears. “You were never a guest. This house is as much yours as it is ours. In fact—” she looked at Ron askingly. He nodded solemnly and she proceeded. “We wanted to ask you something. You’re right, this morning we were talking about you, but not because we want you to move out. Quite the contrary. You know we love you a lot. You’re part of our family and having you here, living with us, has been amazing. We wanted to ask you if you wanted to stay here, with us, indefinitely.”
Harry’s heart stopped. Were they really asking him to stay? He must have misheard. Hermione was pregnant, after all. They must want some privacy. “But what about your child?” he finally blurted.
“We want you to help us raise them, to be a third parent figure,” Ron grinned.
Harry’s eyes widened. Ron and Hermione were looking at him earnestly, hopefully, almost pleadingly. Harry could feel a smile growing on his face. He felt like he was dreaming.
“Only if you want, obviously. We know it’s a big responsibility and an important decision. You don’t have to answer right now.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Yes!” Ron yelped. “I told you ‘Mione, I told you he’d say yes!”
Hermione smiled, unconvinced. “Are you completely sure? We don’t want you to rush into a decision…”
“Hermione, living with you two is all I ever wanted. And help raising your child? Nothing would make me happier.”
“Our child,” Ron noted, making Harry grin giddily.
“Oh, Harry! You don’t know how happy this makes us. We really didn’t want you to leave. The house would feel horribly empty without you.”
“I’m sure that in a few months it will feel too crowded,” he teased.
Hermione laughed, “If we’ve learned anything from the Weasleys is that there’s no such thing as too crowded.”
“Oi!” Ron protested, but he was also smiling. He hugged Harry tightly, who grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her into the hug.
They stayed like this for a while, enjoying each other’s comforting warmth. Eventually, Harry stepped back and beamed at his two best friends. They both wore radiant smiles and their eyes shined with excitement. The three of them had always been close, but now Harry could feel a new sort of closeness enveloping them. It was a closeness born from security, from commitment, from the shared knowledge that they all were exactly where they wanted to be, together. Harry felt a sudden rush of love bubble up from his heart. His smile widened, “I can’t believe I’m going to be a father.”
“Well, you’d better get used to it.”
Harry laughed. Ron patted him on the back and joined in the laughter. Hermione looked at them affectionately for a few seconds before breaking into a grin. Soon, the three of them were laughing hysterically, bursting again into giggles every time they stopped to catch air. Their laughter echoed in the room, filling it with love. It was a thick, warm, welcoming love; a love that whispered family, and that was ready for it to grow.
For the first time since leaving Hogwarts, Harry felt truly at home.