There was nothing special about the day that Sirius Black came back into his life.
It was a Wednesday—Harry always thought that not much of importance happened on most Wednesdays—but he got a terse memo from the Department of Mysteries requiring his 'immediate presence'.
Harry sighed, making the quick journey from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement down to see the oddballs in Mysteries. He took his bag with him, sometimes he might need his cloak to hide from Croaker. The old man always wanted to test him, claiming to see death in his eyes.
"What's this about then?" Harry asked, holding up his note once he got to the receptionist.
"Oh, that's from me, Harry," Luna said, popping out from behind a corner. Her wand was tucked behind her ear and she was holding a folder with a JUNE 1996: TOP SECRET on it. The Department may be well...mysterious, but it wasn't much on subtlety, so Luna fit right it.
"Hey, Luna. What's this about? It's not about the Nott case, is it?"
She shook her head, her blue eyes very big. "It's about someone you love, Harry."
The blood froze in his veins. He had just seen Ron and Hermione for lunch. Ginny was probably at practice with the Harpies…the rest of the Weasleys, he had no idea as to whether they were fine. Teddy was so small, it'd be so easy for someone to hurt him.
Luna shook her head. "Everyone is fine, Harry. But I want you to be kind to him, it's not his fault."
He had so much time for Luna, but not with this riddle. "Am I usually not kind? I do try."
"I know you do Harry, it's just he'll need you more than you need him this time, at least to start with, so try and be patient with him" Luna said.
Harry blinked at her. "To who, Luna?"
"Sirius Black," she said, and grabbed his hand.
Harry felt dizzy for a second with grief. He had felt like he was always an orphan, but those few years when he knew Sirius, knew that an adult cared about him, meant absolute everything to him. He was 21 now, and the six-year-on wound from seeing him die on felt fresh all over again. Watching Sirius go through the veil was one of the single worst things he could remember and Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to distract himself from the horrible pain of it.
"What happened, Luna?"
Luna cast a quick Muffliatio, and dragged him around the corner, out of the line of sight of anyone passing by.
"There was a minor earthquake from an experiment…and the veil spat something out this morning after the aftershocks…well, someone, rather."
Harry looked down at his watch. This morning?! It was nearly two PM!
"We had to make sure it was him, Harry."
His anger deflated. "And it's him? You're sure?"
Luna nodded. "It's him, Harry, but a bit younger than you may be expecting, and his memories don't seem to have made their way out of the veil with him."
A horrible, treacherous thought passed through Harry's mind—maybe that was a good thing.
"And you're saying that Sirius doesn't remember anything about well, anything?"
Luna tugged at her blonde hair. "He's accepted his name being Sirius rather easily, and he 'borrowed' my wand to make the chair he's sitting on more comfortable and did quite a stunning piece of transfiguration for a complete amnesiac."
"So he's faking?"
Luna shook her head, and rested her palm on his cheek. "No, Harry. I think the veil returned him to a time of his life where he was the happiest and his brain is doing a rather good job protecting him right now from the rather tragic way his short life turned out."
What did that matter. His godfather was back. "Luna, I need to see him."
"Of course you do, Harry, he's in my office."
That was less than a minute away. Harry's heart started to beat too-fast as he followed Luna down the hall into her brightly-decorated hideaway of an office.
The door swung open, and he saw Sirius, leaning carelessly back in a chair the same way he had in Snape's memory.
He was maybe a little younger than Harry, and so handsome, the dark shadows from Azkaban not clouding his face, his jet-black hair falling in soft waves around his face.
His gray eyes though scanned Harry with little recognition, and it broke his heart.
"Hey there, Sirius," Harry said, his voice a little unsteady. "It's so good to see you again."
Sirius stood up in a quick motion, knocking over the chair. "You know me? Will you take me out of here? No offense, I hate being cooped up, and I've been in this office for hours" he said, giving a little half-bow to Luna, who just smiled at him.
"Yeah, I know you, Sirius," Harry said, swallowing down past the lump in his throat.
Sirius stared at him, cocking his head in a manner quite like Padfoot. "You do seem familiar, I'm sure I've seen your face. Are we…friends?"
Harry nodded.
"Brilliant," Sirius said, sticking his hands in his pockets. Harry noticed the clothes fit him poorly, and shot a questioning look at Luna.
"Sirius Black may have come out of the veil as naked as the day he was born and we had to scrounge around for some spare clothes," Luna explained.
Sirius, to Harry's shock, actually blushed. He looked so young in that moment.
"How old are you, Padfoot?"
Sirius blinked at him. "Padfoot?"
Harry grimaced. "It's a nickname, yours."
"I'm not sure how you'd get that from my name," Sirius grumbled. "I don't know. Luna's diagnostic spell said 18. How old are you?"
"I'm 21, and you can call me Harry," he said, introducing himself to his godfather. Harry was older than Sirius was when he was born. The same age his father got to be. It was all starting to give him a headache.
"Well, Harry James Potter," Luna full-named him. "I have a few theories I'd like to test about Padfoot, but why don't you take him out the ministry for now before my colleagues get too excited and start examining him. I'll handle the paperwork for his return."
"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, and he was grateful. He was sure Luna was sneaking Sirius to his custody because he was Harry Potter, but today he was so grateful for his status. Being subjected to more nonsense from the blasted ministry was the last thing Sirius needed, their incompetence had cost him more than enough time.
Sirius started following Harry down the long hallway toward the atrium, but Harry couldn't take him home. Not to Grimmauld Place, not yet. Sirius had been here when he died and Grimmauld Place for a terrible year beforehand, he wouldn't do that to him quite yet. There was so much more for Sirius to see.
"Are you hungry?" Harry asked.
Sirius shrugged, a careless, elegant gesture.
Harry wasn't, but he had an idea. He scurried to tone of the back ministry exits, but no one was paying Sirius a second glance.
"You must be very popular," Sirius muttered.
"Excuse me?"
"People stare at you, some more obviously than others, but people do," Sirius observed.
"Huh. I didn't notice," Harry lied, and Sirius snorted.
"I may be an amnesiac, mate, but I'm not stupid."
"You're not, I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling sheepish. "I can explain later—it's a bit of a long story."
"Shorten it for me," Sirius said, eyes narrowing at him. Harry was oddly reminded of the way Andromeda in that moment, when she was at the end of her tether about something.
"I may have….taken care of the worst dark wizard of our time in a very public way."
"Not just a pretty face then—guess I have good taste in friends." Sirius remarked.
"Sometimes you do," Harry muttered darkly, and chucked his ministry robe into his messenger bag, so he would blend in with the muggles out on the street.
"Where are we going?" he asked, and Harry shrugged, as he started walking down Charing Cross Road toward Oxford Street.
Muggles were milling about, cars and black cabs and red buses going slowly down the road, following the stoplights.
Harry cut down one of the gritty Soho Side streets, littered with trash and sex shops and neon lights, and wondered if Sirius had ever had McDonalds before.
He turned to look at him, Sirius's eyes were wide with wonder at the Muggle surroundings, even as mundane as they were.
Grimmauld Place was only a few miles from here, but he doubted his parents let him roam around when he was younger.
Sirius smiled at him, and his whole face changed, looking approachable and handsome instead of like some cold Greek statue.
How did his Dad or Remus or gods, anyone, in the Order get any work done when Sirius was going around smiling at people like that, like they were so special?
"We're here," Harry said a few minutes later when he held the door open for Sirius at the Oxford Street McDonalds.
"It smells like grease," Sirius observed.
"Yeah, isn't it great?" Harry agreed, before sliding up to the counter and ordering Sirius a big mac meal, and a coke for himself.
He got the tray, and found the two of them a table so Sirius could watch the people outside.
Sirius put a fry in his mouth tentatively, and then a few more. "This is good!" he exclaimed through a mouthful of potato, and Harry laughed before thinking of Sirius surviving on rats so he could hear the latest about the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius was rich and smart, he should have left and moved permanently to another continent, off this island, but he was too loyal to abandon Harry like that.
"You're off with the fairies," Sirius said.
"Sorry, just remembered something," Harry said.
"That makes one of us," Sirius joked, but Harry didn't find it funny, but he gave a weak smile back.
Sirius just rolled his eyes. "I'll work on my repertoire of amnesia-related jokes then."
"I look forward to it," Harry said. "Do you want to get a wand next, or go home?"
"Wand," Sirius said almost immediately, and Harry wondered just what he remembered, deep in his brain. Subconscious, a voice sounding like Hermione reminded him.
"Alright," Harry said. "Do you think you remember any spells?"
"I think I can figure out some," Sirius said, his voice on the border of arrogant.
"I believe in you," Harry said, not caring how stupid he sounded. Sirius had always believed in him, it was only fair of him to return the same confidence.
Sirius was smiling at him, and drinking a coke and Harry felt so, so off-balance.