Harry Potter and the Bucket List

Year 5 - 2

Beta: Cloudy

Surprise! :p

(≖‿‿≖)ノ⌒●~*

Things were going as well as they could be for summer. I was being tutored by Tom in math; a school had been built in Lunar's Orchid for magic and non-magic fluff babehs that was supervised by Odette; I could turn into a fox and be fluffy whenever I wanted; my ads were drawing in candidates for the teaching position; and best of all I completed the hybrid potion that combined all my previous potions into one (painless transformation, instant transformation, and perfect lucidity) for my fluffy children...

The only hiccup was Harry.

I loved my brother, truly I did. No matter what I would still love and care for him.

Even if, on occasion, I wanted to hit him repeatedly with a pillow.

It wasn't entirely Harry's fault. I did remember in the books that it was around the fifth year that Harry's hormones came a'knockin' and the baby boy didn't know how to deal with his spikes of anger. Some of that was due to biology, and some of it might have been because of his Horcrux. I had mine sealed up nicely so I didn't get any kind of second-hand nonsense from Voldemort but Harry was still in the early stages of learning Occlumency.

Sirius was a good godfather, but he lacked a certain intuition that made him...

Well.

Sirius would be better suited as a fun uncle rather than a father. He rarely enforced his own restrictions, more inclined to let us run freely. Had I not been an adult at the start I could only imagine the unintentional damage that could have occurred from his accidental neglect. He clearly loved us and did his best, but children needed a stern hand alongside the fun one.

Sirius was not the disciplinarian. Remus fulfilled that role on occasion, but he didn't live with us constantly and he had moved to Grimmauld's Place at the start of summer. Soon he'd probably be moving in with Tonks and starting his own happy little family.

I tried to be firm with Harry when I could, but my darling brother...

It was hard to enforce the rules myself when I was technically his younger twin and not an adult. If I physically restrained him from doing something bad I'd get equally punished.

Or worse, Sirius would just laugh at both of us and there would be no punishment.

For the past—oooh—fourteen-ish years that had been fine. Harry was such a sweetie pie. He had a good head on his shoulders (courtesy of Remus) and understood that rules were meant to be followed. Everything would have stayed fine if it weren't for his... changes.

Fifteen years old, puberty came, and boom.

Now my sweet, demure Harry was set off over tiny little things. If he finished a book with a bad ending he'd literally throw it into the fire.

They were short, those bursts of anger, but explosive enough to startle me at times.

Don't get me wrong, I never felt like I was in danger. Harry never raised a fist at me, nor pulled out his wand. The worst of it was a raised voice and venomous words.

Unluckily for me, I had also reached puberty which meant that even if I intellectually knew Harry didn't mean what he said, sometimes my heart took it way too personal.

Honestly, it was pretty embarrassing.

I didn't even know half the things that would set Harry off, nor did I understand why it aggravated him so. I did try to listen, but I quickly learned that if I tried to do anything close to disagreeing he'd flip out further and hurl hurtful words. I did my best not to react, but there was one evening where my own teenage hormones got the best of me.