Despite all the new obligations he had willingly undertaken, Harry found himself thoroughly enjoying his day-to-day life at Hogwarts. His studies were progressing well; his classes, though significantly more complicated than those of previous years, felt relatively easy thanks to his almost instinctive understanding of magic.
There were times when he had been genuinely frightened by how effortless it was for him to grasp magical concepts, how easily he could learn, and even his many almost extinct abilities. Remus having told him that he was a Mage had laid many of his fears to rest. Despite his current strength and abilities, many of them would become dormant when he reached his magical maturity, typically between the ages of twenty-three and thirty-five. To anyone else, that might be a nuisance, but to him, it was a profound relief.
Little by little, and thanks to the unwavering support of his friends and his mentor, he had been living his school life and his life as a "superhero" without anyone noticing anything amiss. A stroke of real luck, for Merlin knew what would have happened if someone had discovered his secret.
So, almost without realising it, the Easter holidays had arrived. Harry had already caught up with his seventh-year classmates, and now the remaining months until the end of the term, he was going to take them much more calmly. For the first time, he was truly going to relax in his studies, and even with his preparation for learning under Professor Snape, he had far more leisure time than he had enjoyed in years.
Although everything was proceeding according to his usual routine, it was disrupted a week before the holidays when a letter arrived from his parents during breakfast. He carefully took the letter and opened it with no small amount of suspicion; everyone knew that mail between him and his parents was virtually non-existent.
"Dear Harry,
How are you? Here at home, everything is fine. In any case, the house feels very empty without you and your brother.
I know you usually prefer to spend Easter holidays with your friends at school, but I'd like to ask if you could possibly come home this year.
I'm sure you're wondering why this request, as we've never made it before, but we miss you a great deal. Please think about it, alright?
A hug, Mum"
The boy looked at the letter, almost as if it might sting him. Since when did his parents write to him? Or did they want him to spend the holidays with them? Or best of all, since when was he treated with such apparent affection?
His face must have betrayed something peculiar because the next thing he knew, his friends and colleagues were looking at him with concern and asking him what was wrong.
"My parents have written to me."
"What do they want?"
"That I go to spend the holidays with them."
"What about this?" was the general astonished reaction of those present.
"And they're talking to me as if there was any kind of relationship between us. To date, the only relationship we've had has been to compare me to Brian or to blame me for any misfortune that might have befallen him."
"What are you going to do?" Athenea asked, looking at him worriedly.
"I don't know. It's so sudden. I must think about it. I have time."
From the incredulous looks he received from the Gryffindor table, he guessed that his parents had said the same thing to his brother, along with the information that they had invited Harry as well.
For the next few days, Harry wondered if perhaps his parents had suffered some kind of curse that had altered their characters, because otherwise, he was unable to comprehend what was happening. In the end, just three days before the holidays began, he wrote to them, accepting the invitation.
"Are you sure about what you're going to do?" Draco asked him worriedly. "Holidays with them aren't usually very pleasant."
"Don't worry, everything will be fine."
"Well, but promise us that if you see things going wrong, you'll let us know and come to any of our houses," Fred said. "You'll be welcome at any of them, and I'm sure it'll be a better holiday than at home."
"Very well, I promise. Happy?"
"Extremely," they all said in unison.
On the day the holiday commenced, Harry was once again on the Hogwarts Express, making his way home. He chatted happily with his friends about various topics while holding a Potions book on his lap, not dwelling much on what awaited him at home when the train reached its destination, although he couldn't avoid it for long.
Before they knew it, the train arrived in London where several guards were waiting to let the students disembark gradually. Outside the magical platform, various parents were waiting for them, eager to be reunited with their children after several months apart.
Harry watched as his friends were reunited with their parents, who welcomed them with joy, and after a quick farewell, he went to where his own parents were waiting for him.
"Harry!"
That was the only warning the teenager had before being enveloped in a strong hug from his mother, causing him to tense up immediately. His mother had never hugged him. Never.
Despite his obvious discomfort, his mother held him in her arms for a few more seconds before releasing him. Then she looked at him for a few moments with a smile on her lips and a strange expression in her eyes.
"Look at him, James, he's so grown up…"
"In a very short time, you'll have to fight off the girls," his father chuckled, giving him an affectionate clap on the back. "Well, there's Brian, we can go now."
Harry, for his part, looked at his parents with an expression that conveyed very clearly: "Who are you and what have you done with my parents?" Of course, neither of the two adults noticed it; on the contrary, their behaviour was unsettling not only for the elder brother but also for the younger.
Without paying attention to their children's expressions, both made their way to the station's car park where the family car was located. A car that would only take them to the Leaky Cauldron, and then it would shrink until it reached the size of a toy, and from there, they would travel by Floo powder to their home in Scotland.
That night, during dinner, was the most tense moment. After much encouragement from his parents, Harry had finally agreed to explain how school had been for him, when Brian could no longer contain himself.
"What the hell is going on!?" Brian screamed as he stood up abruptly.
"Brian Leonard Potter! What kind of language is that?" Lily Potter scolded, her voice sharp. "I've taught you to be polite."
"I'll be polite when I know what's going on and why you're showing concern about this… this rubbish!"
"BRIAN! Apologise right now!" James shouted, looking at his youngest son with disapproval.
"Apologise? Apologise? Why should I? He's worth nothing, this one… this half-Squib! You want me to apologise? You must be out of your mind!"
"To your room! You're grounded!"
Brian looked at his parents with an expression full of surprise and, after casting a look full of hatred and resentment at his elder brother, he left the room, determined to make Harry pay for it later.
For his part, Harry looked at his parents in disbelief. And what was even stranger: Brian punished for picking on him? Where had the world gone? It was clear that something strange was going on there, and he was determined to find out.
"I'm so sorry, honey," his mother said with a sorrowful expression. "I honestly don't know what came over him."
"Don't worry, Lily, I'll talk to him seriously later."
"Thank you, James." Lily then turned back to Harry. "Now, love, why don't you explain to us about your apprenticeship? It caught us completely by surprise."
"Also, did it have to be with Snape? There are more Potions Masters; why did it have to be Snape?" James interjected.
"Shut up, James! Don't start again!" Lily snapped.
"I'm tired," Harry cut in before they could argue again. "We'll talk tomorrow."
"Of course, rest, son."
Harry left the dining room as fast as he could and quickly went to his room, wondering if he hadn't ended up in some kind of alternate reality, because no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn't accept the two strangers downstairs as his parents. If it weren't for the fact that Brian seemed as confused as he genuinely did, Harry would have come to believe it. Instead, he decided on the most reliable solution to get information: writing to Remus.
The letter was simple and clear; he wanted to know what was happening, but he didn't need so many formalities thanks to the great trust he had in Remus. As he considered how he was dealing with the family situation, Harry imagined how his Easter holidays might continue.
There was no immediate response to his letter. Instead, Remus came to see him the next morning. He stood at the door smiling, looking at Harry with something akin to understanding.
"Remus!"
"Hello, Harry. I think you wanted some answers."
"Come inside," said the teenager as he opened the door wider as an invitation. "They're acting so weird, almost like they care."
"The bubble of happiness in which they lived has burst."
"What?"
"At the last meeting of the Order…" Remus began. "Well, many things were said, and a conclusion was reached that was difficult for them to accept. Brian was not the prophesied child."
"What?!"
"What you hear," the werewolf reiterated. "Harry, since you decided to intercede in the attacks, you have shown a power that no one else has, and that has been spoken of in the prophecy. Not only that, but you can also transform yourself into a white phoenix. Everything indicates that it was you, as I have known for three years."
"But Brian…"
"Brian was hailed as the child of prophecy simply because he was not yet born when it was fulfilled," Remus explained. "Just because of that. There was no factor that said you had to be the younger brother, only that you would be one of the two, but we based ourselves on precedents, or rather, Albus based himself on the previous prophecies, and he chose Brian."
"Does the Order know that it is me?"
"No! No, no one knows. The Order only knows that Brian is not the Chosen One and that it is someone who had already been born. Even though they know you're powerful, it hasn't occurred to anyone that it could be you, because they're missing pieces of the puzzle."
"My Animagus form?"
"Yes, your form, and your wand, and also your tattoo."
"And just because Brian is not the prophesied one, they already treat me as if I were someone else in the family?"
"Yes, and because Alice reproached them for their obvious favouritism towards Brian."
"Alice?"
"Alice Longbottom, the mother of your friend Neville."
Harry stared out the window for a few minutes before sighing and looking at his favourite "uncle."
"This doesn't change anything. It's been twelve years, almost thirteen, of being invisible to my parents. They've never laid a hand on me, but they haven't loved me either. Now, just because things haven't gone the way they wanted doesn't mean I'll welcome them with open arms; that ceased to be possible years ago."