Chapter Text
The next few days were a blur of activities, Harry wringing out every last drop of fun he could while his friends were still here.
Then they had to go back home. Tearful goodbyes were spread throughout the group, tight hugs and clinging hands that didn't want to let go. Harry reminded himself that they had sworn to visit, though the knot in his chest stayed twisted up tight.
He hoped he could get Constantine to teach him how to teleport like he did.
Harry felt at ease with his life, comfortable with existing around the Waynes. It helped that Duke was very open with using his powers, which made Harry more nonchalant with his own. Mr Wayne had taken the news about his magic better than he could have ever expected. Even after his kids had been fine with it, he still for some reason expected the same horridness as he had got from the Dursleys.
A few weeks after the day that Constantine disappeared, Harry got an owl from Hermione, with a copy of the newest Daily Prophet enclosed. Voldemort was dead. Turns out John Constantine was highly experienced in dealing with soul magicks. Voldemort hadn't stood a chance. The Wizarding World was reeling from the sudden confirmation that the Dark Lord had indeed been alive again, but now very much was not. Harry had already told them that he was, but apparently they didn't believe it until it was staring at their faces.
The Prophet over the following weeks posted all about the Auror investigation and cleanup of the remaining death eaters, and Harry was immensely pleased when he read that Peter Pettigrew had finally been captured, and, under the influence of Veritaserum, had admitted to the betrayal of his parents, alongside the murder of those muggles. Sirius Black had been promptly cleared of all charges.
Also over those weeks, his family introduced him to their night jobs. He still didn't quite understand, and he certainly had no clue how he had managed to not hear about this ‘Justice League’ before, but he was proud of them regardless.
Jason had patted Harry on the back and handed him a Snickers American candy bar when Harry had politely informed them all that he had no intentions of joining them on their ventures. Which…? Anyways, he was far too tired of almost dying to willingly subject himself to it again, even if he did feel guilty for it.
Constantine had shown back up at the Manor one day, around four PM on a Tuesday, and had clapped Harry on the back and offered to tutor him in magic. Only occasionally, but Harry was pretty sure the man just felt bad for all the shit Harry had been through.
Harry had finally brought his broom out of storage, having somehow completely forgotten about it until now, and Dick had had no less than three near-heart-attacks while supervising Harry flying around the grounds on it. Tim borrowed it one afternoon, and Dick shrieked in panic when he saw what they were doing. Luckily, Tim's persuasion techniques were unmatched. Mostly just the large, wet eyes and sad little downward tilt of his mouth. It worked wonders, though.
Hermione had chosen to stay at Hogwarts, wanting to finish her schooling and take over the Ministry, because she couldn't stand not being in control of everything, Harry guessed. He looked forward to the new House Elf protections laws, at least. He was sure Dobby would cry out of gratitude.
Harry had gotten well used to jump scares, Damian deciding that the quickest and best way to teach him stealth was to jump out at him from various dark corners. Granted, it was working. Damian had also been picking up Latin quite quickly, though Harry sometimes jumped when he said something that happened to be a spell.
Ron had reluctantly decided to stay with Hermione at Hogwarts. He didn't really want to be there without Harry, but Hermione scolded him for nearly an hour when he brought up dropping out, so he decided to stay.
Ron had also picked up a summer job, working for Florian Fortescue at his ice cream parlor. He said he just wanted a bit of pocket money, and he was feeling bored without much to do while school was out, but the way he gushed about working there made Harry think he might end up doing something like that for a living.
The twins had sent letters to Harry all about their plans to renovate an old building in Diagon Alley into a candy shop, and he could nearly taste their excitement through the ink. They had decided to keep him updated on all of the details, since he had given them the money to start it from the prize money from technically winning the Triwizard Tournament, though he hardly thought it counted when he had only won because of Cedric's murder. He was looking forward to seeing their shop, though.
Harry wasn't really sure what he wanted to do with his life. Maybe be a teacher, maybe a healer, maybe something obscure and strange, the sort that had never really been thought of before, the sort that had people give you peculiar looks when you told them what it is that you did.
Either way, he had been enrolled in Gotham Academy alongside Damian and Duke, and he would start in fall.
He didn't know what he was going to be, but he quite liked who he was now, and that was more than good enough for him.