Title: Harry Potter Fic #2

Summary: What if the Knight Bus took more than a hand wave to call – or simply didn't exist? Without such a convenience, poor Harry is left to the mercy of a mysterious dog that appears while he is trying to figure out where to go after blowing up Marge in the beginning of The Prisoner of Azkaban.

Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, nor any of her publishers, and thus have and make no claim of ownership to the Harry Potter series. This work is purely for entertainment, and no money is being made through it. Sigh

Chapter One:

In which acquaintances are made, and truths are revealed

Or

Harry gets a godfather

Harry Potter was having a rough sort of time. Indeed, perhaps the third roughest of his young life. He was sitting on a low wall in Magnolia Crescent, pondering his options. You see, earlier, fleeing his uncle's house had seemed like the best idea in the world. In his experience, disasters usually demanded some kind of running. Either that, or some of the kind of very real luck that seemed to crop up for him every once in a while, like his protection from Quirrel in his first year, and Gryffindor's sword coming out of the sorting hat, as well as Fawkes' tears, just this last year.

After turning Marge into a balloon, however, it didn't seem likely to Harry that his luck would be kicking in, for the simple reason that, however exceptionally mean and nasty the Dursley's were, they were not really comparable to Voldemort. Therefore, Harry's logical instinct had been to flee, especially given that Ministry Wizards were likely to have swarmed the place soon after his departure, intent on removing him and tossing him in the wizard equivalent of the Young Offender Prison for once again flouting the Decree for Restriction of Underage Magic, if such a prison existed.

It struck him then how little he really knew about wizarding laws and such, but he quickly realized that sitting alone on the low wall thinking about prisons, of all things, wasn't going to get him anywhere. But then, he wasn't really sure if there was anywhere he could go. Going to the Burrow and his friend Ron wasn't much of an option, because he didn't want Mr. Weasly, who worked for the Ministry, to get into trouble for harboring a fugitive. If he knew where the Granger's lived, he might've gone there, though Hermione would surely give him a proper dressing-down for inflating his "aunt."

But he didn't know where she lived. Slowly, Harry realized that he was in very real trouble, as he had no place to sleep, no money, and no likely options. He wasn't all that far from Privet Drive, but he didn't want to go back there; even if the Ministry wizards were gone, there would be a huge fiasco. He couldn't stay where he was either, since any policeman who happened upon him would either drag him back to the Dursley's or to an actual Youth Offender Prison.

Just as Harry come to the conclusion that he was utterly screwed, a slight movement caught the corner of his eye, and his head whipped around, terrified it would be a Ministry Wizard, or worse, his relatives. Instead, Harry could only see darkness. He stood carefully and shifted his wand to the front. He hesitated. What does it matter now? He thought, I'm already in trouble. Nodding his agreement with himself, he said "Lumos," aloud, and light flooded the street.

In the light of his wand, a huge black dog sat, eyes wide as if surprised, not even ten meters from Harry. Harry froze. The dog, however, seemed to recover quickly, and started towards him. Without even thinking about it, Harry began backing away, keeping his wand pointed at the dog. "Nice doggy," he muttered. It's the size of a bear! He thought desperately, just as he backed up just a little too far. In his distress, he had forgotten his trunk, which had been directly behind him. With one last unwary step, Harry's foot hit his trunk and he lost his balance, tumbling backwards.

As he fell, he managed to jerk his body around and tried to catch himself with his hands. While he did this, however, he lost his grip on his wand, which bounced and rolled away, coming to a halt outside his reach, far behind his prone form. The light it still shone with threw everything into a shadowy kind of illumination, and after he rolled back around, Harry found that the dog was no longer in view.

Instead, the place where the dog had been standing was occupied by a man, a man who seemed vaguely familiar to Harry, but his appearance was ghastly and Harry was quite sure he had never met the man before in his life. The man's eyes were sunken into his face, and he looked half-starved. His hair reached to his waist, and was matted and filthy, and the rags he wore were in no better condition. He started toward Harry, and as he came into better view Harry realized where he had seen the man before.

"You! Yo – You're Sirius Black! But that dog… it was you! So you're… you're…" Harry's mind was working overtime to keep up, even as he scuttled backwards away from the murderer. It was magic, it had to have been, for that man to transform into a dog and back again. But that meant… "You're a wizard!" His brain was unfreezing slowly, "Stay back, murderer!" He cried out, hoping someone would hear. Black stopped for a second and blinked owlishly at Harry, shaking his head slightly, before he began approaching faster, reaching his hands toward the boy.

"No!" Harry yelled as he continued backwards, hoping every time his hands went back he would find something, anything with which to fend off his attacker, but at the same time unable to take his eyes off of Black. Just as the murderer caught up with him, Harry felt his left hand hit something, and he grasped it firmly, and swung it around at the escapee, screaming "Back!"

With a burst of flame, the Sword of Gryffindor appeared in Harry's swinging hand, only narrowly missed Black's fingers as he jumped back in surprise. Once again, each of them stared at the other in shock, but this time Harry acted first – he could think about this later. He kept the blade pointed awkwardly at Black as he stood. I'll take Black back to the Dursley's with me, Harry reasoned, his thoughts surprisingly calm. The Ministry wizards can have him. He grimaced. I just hope we don't end up in the same place.

"Come with me," Harry said aloud, "I'm taking you back," Black blanched, but stood his ground, even when Harry waggled the sword – somewhat less than threateningly – in his general direction. "Wait," Black said, his voice gravelly and awkward, as if he hadn't used it in a long time. "Wait, H-Harry,"

The sword wavered fractionally, then, suddenly, it thrust forward with deadly intent, punctuating Harry's fierce question, "How do you know my name!?" Even though he might be famous, Harry had had his back to the light this during this entire escapade. Sirius Black couldn't have spotted his scar, and Harry had no other truly distinguishing features someone who'd been in prison for over a decade could recognize.

Black swallowed heavily. If he had been a scant few centimeters closer, his neck would be neatly skewered. "Harry," he said again, "You look just like your father - I knew your father at Hogwarts, we were friends," he was cut off when the sword came to rest against his throat. "My father," Harry said, his voice low, cold, and deadly, "Would never have had a murderer like you for a friend,"

Slowly, a single tear fell from Sirius Black's eye, though he was blinking rapidly to try and keep them back. Harry felt his eyes widen slightly for no less than the fourth time that evening. As the tear wound its way down, Black found his voice again. "I am not a murderer!" he half screamed, half sobbed. The raw emotion in his voice reverberated against the blade, and suddenly Harry knew. This man, he thought, he is telling the truth. He isn't evil... He could feel it, in some way he couldn't quite describe. Harry slowly lowered the sword, and said the words Sirius Black had been hoping to hear since the moment he had decided to take a side-trip to see his godson.

"I believe you,"

Oo. Oo.

Several hours later, Harry sat with his head in his hands. The Sword of Gryffindor lay on the table in front of him, and his wand was next to it, in easy reach. None of this really registered to Harry, however, because Harry was busy wrapping his head around the tale of terror and woe that Sirius Black – His Godfather! – had just finished telling him. Sirius, after finishing his story, had left to get cleaned up. Harry was glad for that, and wondered if the man could tell that he needed a little time to sort it all out in his head.

His parents had been betrayed. Betrayed to their deaths, by one of their closest friends, and no one had even bothered to tell him.

Harry felt betrayed himself. He had trusted the people he had met in the wizarding world, like Albus Dumbledore and Harry's friend Hagrid, to tell him things truthfully. He hadn't expected them to hide things. It was worse than when the Dursley's lied to him – at least he knew it was coming from them; it was quite normal there.

Of course, there was the possibility that it was good nobody told him. Without previous bias against Sirius holding him back, it was easier to believe his tale. The sword helped somehow, though Harry didn't know exactly how. When he held it, and whoever was speaking was touching it, he knew what was the truth and what was a lie, like he could read minds. He and Sirius had even tested it – and no, Sirius's middle name was not Brian, however much he looked like a Brian.

Harry sighed and scrubbed at his eyes with his left hand, before peering once again at the paper in his right. It was an old, tattered copy of the Daily Prophet, the one with Ron's family on the front. Harry's gaze passed by the red-headed family blankly, coming to rest on their family pet. "Scabbers… Peter Pettigrew…" Harry muttered aloud, not really meaning to.

I know that it's a lot to take in, Sirius had said. A lot to take in! Harry unconsciously crumpled the paper in his hands. He'd been sleeping in the same room as the reason for his parent's deaths for the better part of two years! The reason he lived with the Dursley's, the reason he had his stupid scar, and the reason he'd been dealing with this ruddy fame that came with it, had been sleeping within easy grasping distance for almost two years.

His furious brooding was interrupted a few minutes later when Sirius nervously reentered the room. He looked remarkably better after a shower, and in some fresh clothes – even if the shirt was a few years out of date. "So," he began, but trailed off, uncertain what to say.

"So," Harry echoed. He forced his anger down, and glanced about, hoping for some topic of conversation to present itself. "Um, where are we, Sirius?" Sirius blinked at the question, but nevertheless leaped at the opportunity to talk with his godson, dropping himself into a chair on the other side of the table. "I can't believe I didn't mention it before. This is my old place, from just after I graduated from Hogwarts. Your father was marrying Lily, and his parents, your grandparents, were kicking me out – good naturedly of course, but without James they were sure to have gone mad trying to live with me, poor old dears," Sirius grinned roguishly at Harry, and Harry was amazed at how much younger the man looked with that expression on his face. "They were too proper to have me around alone – hell, I'm fairly sure your father drove them bats as well, but he was their son, after all. Anyway, I took the money I'd saved up and picked up this little place. I dropped a few extra galleons on security, as well. 'Course, that meant I was broke when I started Auror training, but I thought it was worth it to feel safe,"

Harry nodded, his anger forgotten for now. The place was far larger on the inside than it looked on the outside, and, though it was a far cry from clean, it looked like it would do 'bachelor pad' quite well. He was actually very interested in the security Sirius mentioned, so he asked, "What kind of security did you buy?"

Sirius dropped himself into the chair across from Harry, and frowned as he thought. "Let's see, let's see," he said, brightening, and Harry suddenly got the feeling that Sirius loved to brag about the security on his house. He'd seen much the same look on his Uncle Vernon's face when he was speaking about his company car. After about half an hour of explanation, Harry finally said, "So, basically, no apparating or dissapparating, no portkey's of any sort – whatever those are – the floo is locked down – though it's likely been disconnected by now anyway – no dark creatures can approach without giving warning, exploding, or otherwise being destroyed or rendered useless, and… What was that last one again?"

"There's more than one you forgot," Sirius said, somewhat smugly. "This place doesn't appear on any map, it's location cannot be divulged by anyone other than me, any mail addressed to anyone occupying the house is retrieved from the owl via magic in a mile and a half radius around the house – though it's not centered on this house particularly, or it wouldn't be too hard to find – and…" He trailed off. After a moment, he shook his head, "I think there's more," he said sadly, "but I'm having trouble remembering things. After so long of never thinking thoughts that made me happy, it's hard to get some of those good memories back,"

Harry was sure that he was hiding his sadness at Sirius's situation well, but the older man still seemed uncomfortable and quickly changed the subject. "So, third year in Hogwarts, eh? What electives did you take?"

"Er," Harry replied. He wasn't all that happy with his choices the previous semester. With all that had been happening with the Chamber, he'd forgotten to look any of his choices up, and felt somewhat ashamed that he was just taking the easiest classes. He didn't even know how many any student was allowed! "I'm taking Care of Magical Creatures and Divination," Sirius, who had nodded at Car of Magical Creatures, raised an eyebrow when Harry finished. "Fancy yourself a Seer, huh?" he asked pointedly. Harry's face heated up, and he knew he was blushing. "L-look," he stammered, "After the Chamber and everything, this electives thing sorta got sprung on us. I couldn't look any up, so I just went along with one of my friends since he said these were the easiest.

Sirius shook his head. "Oh, they're certainly that," he said, "But Divination is practically useless. I didn't really want to push myself too hard in year two either, but I signed up for Ancient Runes, and I wish now that I'd taken Arithmancy too. With those you can do all sorts of fun things like make new spells, create long-standing wards, even enchant objects to be bigger inside then they are on the outside. I actually helped put most of the stuff here up, it made it a whole lot cheaper. I knew a fellow who went with Divination though. Said for years that it was his worst class, ever. Apparently the teacher kept declaring the poor blokes imminent death,"

Harry, eyes wide, asked, "What happened to him?" Sirius snickered. "He was still alive the last time I saw him. Poor Moony. You know he tried to take every single elective class offered? He dropped Divination after, what, three months?" He kept laughing, though he looked surprised to be doing so. He stopped short, however, when he noticed the panicked look on Harry's face. "What am I going to do?" Harry asked, speaking very quickly, "I have to have two electives! I can't just drop Divination!" Sirius smiled gently. "You can always pick another one up, you know. Don't worry so much, everything will be alright. Just talk to McGonagall about it. She won't mind, I assure you," Harry felt much relieved, and his face showed it. "So," Sirius continued, "What was that Chamber business you mentioned?"

Soon, Harry found himself explaining all about the his second year, about Dobby – who he made a mental note to get a hold of, since this place could really use a good house elf in it – about the diary, about the chamber, Ginny, all of it. Sirius's eyes grew darker and darker, but when Harry mentioned the Chamber being the second time he had faced Lord Voldemort, Sirius made him tell all about his first year, including Snape and Quirrell, and Voldemort.

By the end, Sirius looked thunderous, especially when Harry professed his ignorance about why these things kept happening around him. "Harry," he said in a voice as quiet and deadly as Harry had ever heard before, "No one ever told you why Voldemort was after your parents?" When Harry shook his head, Sirius slammed his fist down into the table and cursed. Vilely. Harry heard himself continue, though he was fairly sure he didn't want Sirius any more upset. "I asked Dumbledore after my first year, but he wouldn't tell me. He said to wait until I was older,"

"Do you still want to know?" Sirius asked, studying Harry's face. Harry didn't even think before looking Sirius in the eyes and answering, "If this is going to keep happening, then yes,"

Sirius watched his eyes for a long moment, then nodded, "There was a prophecy made, concerning Voldemort. Listen; The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives," He intoned the prophecy as though he had it memorized. "Only a few of us knew the whole thing. Myself, James, Lily, Dumbledore, and the Longbottoms,"

"My parents," he said after a moment, "They defied him three times?" Sirius nodded. "At least that – they were in the Order of the Phoenix, which was all about defying Voldemort," Harry fingered his scar absently. "He marked me… My birthday is July thirty-first… I have something, some power, he can't touch me," He continued to stare at Sirius, fighting desperately to keep his mounting horror off his face. "I have to kill him?" he asked, hating the quaver in his voice that gave him away. Sirius got up without breaking eye contact, and drug Harry into a hug vaguely reminiscent of Mrs. Weasly.

Harry stiffened at first and Sirius thought he might have made a mistake, but when Sirius went to draw back Harry flung his arms around him and nearly squashed him. Boy's pretty strong for someone so scrawny, Sirius thought idly. I won't leave him again. I won't let anyone hurt him. I promised. And I don't care if it kills me, we'll get that smarmy bastard. He looked down at the boy who looked so much like James, and whose eyes were so beautifully Lily's. For all three of you.

Oo. Oo.

Surprisingly, when Harry awoke after a fitful night's sleep and drug himself out of bed, there was no mail to be had. Not a letter from the Ministry of Magic, not one from his friends, nor Dumbledore or anyone else. Maybe they don't know I did anything, he thought. They knew when Dobby did that pudding, but I don't know anything about house-elf magic, and they certainly weren't coming 'round for the magic I did before I started Hogwarts... I wonder if Dobby could have deliberately alerted the Ministry. Harry blinked. He probably did! Harry breathed a huge sigh of relief. He wasn't going to be expelled! In fact, it seemed likely that nobody even knew that he had left his relative's house.

His joy was nearly extinguished a moment later, when he remembered the revelation from Sirius last night. Harry really didn't want to kill anyone, even if they deserved it, but he thought of Sirius's other words from later that night.

"There are so many people who would love to be the ones to snuff out that bastard's life," he had said, "And I'm one of them. I know you don't understand, but during the first war everyone was so frightened. No one knew where he would attack next, and wherever he went torture and death followed. He killed so many – if he were to come back, he would almost certainly begin again – not all of his followers were caught or put away," He had pulled back from Harry then, so he could look into his eyes, and continued encouragingly, "You can stop him. You've done it three times now. Besides, how hard will it be to banish a spirit, eh?" he finished with a small chuckle.

Harry had only nodded dumbly then, but now he grit his teeth and shook off his melancholy. His stomach chose that moment to express its anger at his delay in finding food, and the noise it made echoed off the walls. He laughed, thinking he might've done Ron proud, and set about making breakfast.

He didn't find much to eat, but made what he could while he thought about the letters he was going to write today. The first would have to be to Dobby. Harry wasn't sure if the elf had found employment yet, but Harry was more than happy to pay the excitable elf to work, and he and Sirius were sure to need help.

The second letter was to be harder, much harder, and it was Harry's own fault. He had almost entirely ignored Ginny before and after the Chamber. He had sort of assumed that everything was alright, but she was his best mate's little sister. She deserved better, from him especially, since it was almost certainly at least partly his fault Malfoy had targeted her. Going over everything again last night with Sirius, he had realized how horrible her first year must have been.

He kept thinking about it as he wrote and sent his letter to Dobby, offering the elf whatever he wanted for the position, with the caveat that he had to take something – Harry wasn't about to just re-enslave him. He finally gave up thinking after mentally scrapping about fourteen letters and just started writing. He ended up writing about all kinds of things, most of which had nothing to do with what he was writing about – if by most, one could mean all. Finally, he reached a place where he knew he had nothing else to write that could delay the inevitable. He screwed up his courage, and added:

I know, you're probably wondering why I'm writing this, especially since I pretty much ignored you the whole year. The truth is, I screwed up. It's my fault you got the diary from that git, and I've been so wrapped up in my own problems that I haven't taken the time or even thought to write you and see if everything is going alright. Please forgive me. This year, I'll do what I can to make it up to you. Maybe we can be friends? I understand if you don't want to, though, so no pressure.

Hope everything's well

Harry Potter

Harry quickly sealed the surprisingly thick letter, before he could read it and decide to scrap it, and set it where he knew Hedwig could find it when she returned from wherever Dobby was (which she would, as she and Harry had been informed of the houses location last thing before he went to bed).

Just as Harry was wondering what he would do for the day, several thumps announced the arrival of Sirius to the world of the awakened. When he entered the kitchen, Harry knew that whatever else the man may be, Sirius Black was most definitely not a morning person. It was after ten, but Sirius still had his eyes half closed and he was in his pajamas, stumbling around trying to make coffee. He'd cut his hair, so now it only reached his shoulders, though he'd tied that back. He only managed to grunt his hello at Harry, who noticed that the man was still very thin from his ordeal in Azkaban.

"You hungry, Sirius?" Harry asked. "I made what I could – what's left is on the stove," Sirius looked at him in a slightly dazed way, but smiled sleepily and dragged the rest of breakfast to the table with his coffee. He began to eat with a speed comparable to Ron's. "Do you remember that house elf I told you about last night?" Harry askedH, and Sirius nodded, his mouth full. "I sent him a letter today. If he's willing, I'll probably end up hiring him. This place could use a little cleaning, and I'm sure we'd be happy for the help," Sirius stared at him, and he felt himself start to blush. "I didn't mean to do anything wrong, I just…"

Sirius shook his head and swallowed. "I'm just surprised, Harry," he said, his voice proud but somewhat scratchy. He cleared his throat and continued in a more normal voice, "Most wizards wouldn't even consider paying a house elf, and you say it like it's the most normal thing in the world,"

"Well, I am the reason he's free," Harry said, somewhat defiantly, not recognizing the emotion in Sirius's voice. Sirius raised his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not saying that that's wrong Harry," he said with a slight smile. "In fact, I think it's quite good of you," Harry grinned sheepishly at Sirius, and Sirius returned the expression. "We'll have to work on not hitting each other's buttons, I see," Sirius added, looking morosely at the last bit of his breakfast and sighing.

They spent the rest of the day clearing up a few of the more important areas – the entire place was covered in a layer of dust, the pantry full of spoiled goods. There were still a few messes that had apparently been left to sit from before Sirius had been sent to Azkaban, two of which had somehow grown minds of their own and were quite adamant about sticking around.

After fighting off the diseased tendrils of Chinese gone bad for the fourth time, Sirius finally pulled back and told Harry to get out his wand. Even as he did, Harry voiced his concern. "What good'll it do? I don't want to get another warning from the Ministry, and I certainly don't want to get kicked out…" he trailed off at the incredulous look on Sirius's face.

"Harry," the man said, "The Ministry puts up wards to detect under-age magic, but those are only around your house and the immediate vicinity," He grinned. "You can do all the magic that you want out here,"

Just as Harry began to consider the possibilities, however, a loud crack from outside the building interrupted everything, and Harry recognized the squeaky voice shouting "Harry Potter sir! Harry Potter sir!" Grinning at Sirius's raised eyebrows, Harry swished and flicked, sending the Chinese floating to the middle of the room. "You stay there," he told it, "I've got a friend to greet,"

The Chinese moldered quietly, unable to grasp anything to pull itself down.

Oo. Oo.

The second Harry passed the wards blocking him from Dobby's view, he was instantly grabbed about the knees and knocked over. "Harry Potter sir!" the diminutive elf squeaked. "Harry Potter sir is the Greatest Wizard Ever!" he continued, and Harry could hear the capitalization, "Harry Potter sir is offering to hire Dobby, and when everyone else isn't wanting Dobby because he is wanting paid, Harry Potter sir is says he will only take Dobby if he is paid!"

Harry became aware that his pants were becoming thoroughly soaked with Dobby's tears of joy, but he really didn't mind so much. He was just happy Dobby was free now to be hired. However, the ground really was uncomfortable, so he gently pried Dobby off of him and stood them both up. "Dobby, it's good to see you," he said. When he saw Dobby looking like he would start hugging Harry again, he quickly went on, "Now listen, how much do you think I should pay you?"

Dobby's big eyes got bigger, and he seemed so excited by the question that Harry wasn't quite sure that it had been appropriate. "Harry Potter sir! No one has ever asked Dobby!" the elf hesitated, looking unsure. "Perhaps Harry Potter sir could give Dobby a pair of socks a year?"

"Ridiculous!" was Harry's immediate and loud reply, having suspected the elf to try something of the sort. Dobby's ears began to droop, but before he could begin to truly doubt his savior, Harry went on, "One pair of socks is far too little,"

Harry made a great show of thinking as Dobby's ears perked back up, though he had discussed the price with Sirius earlier that morning. "I mean, you'll be doing cooking, cleaning, shopping, gardening, mowing, light repairs…" Dobby's eyes got bigger and bigger as Harry went on, listing everything the elf would need to do – his ears even began to quiver in excitement. "So, I will not accept you into my employ without you accepting at least ten galleons a week, and weekends off," Harry finished.

Dobby began to sputter in indignation. "S-Sir is not serious! Dobby will not take weekends off, no he will not! Dobby will not have it sir!"

"Fine," Harry said, thinking quickly, "You will take two days off a month, but I'm upping your pay to 14 galleons a week,"

"Sir is not serious!" Dobby squeaked again, and just then the other member of the household decided to make an appearance. "That's right," he said, stepping out of the wards, "'Sir' isn't serious; I am!"

There was a small sound as Harry slapped his palm against his forehead and groaned, but Dobby was looking a Sirius carefully. "You… I is knowing you sir. You is…" Dobby's eyes, if possible, grew rounder, and Harry began to wonder how they were staying in his head. "You is Sirius Black, a bad dark wizard!" Dobby made heroically to stand between Harry and Sirius, and raised his finger threateningly at the man.

Harry just burst out laughing.

Oo. Oo.

It was quite some time later that everything settled down, and Harry explained Sirius to Dobby, and finally convinced him to accept 10 galleons a week with 2 days off a month. Harry also told Dobby that punishing himself was forbidden, and that he would instead come to Harry and explain what had happened whenever he felt that he should punish himself for anything.

Harry went and found some of the nicest of Dudley's old clothes – the only ones Harry had – shrunk them until they would fit Dobby's small frame, and told them that this was his official Black-Potter House uniform. Harry also, upon Dobby's request, made them a combination of lurid colors that seemed like something only Fred or George Weasly would ever consider wearing.

Sirius informed Dobby moments later that there was almost literally nothing edible in the house, so that became top priority for the little elf. While he was out shopping, Harry and Sirius managed to round up the intelligent foodstuffs and de-intelligent-ize them. Hedwig returned with a mouse in talon just in time to see fuzzy Thai food with Chinese noodles for tendrils (having somehow combined together…) being forced magically out the door and then blasted into little tiny bits that rained down over the backyard. Quite thoroughly disgusted, both Harry and Sirius went to shower, and Hedwig regarded her catch regretfully before dropping it out by the curb.

Oo. Oo.

Eight a.m. the next morning found the Boy-Who-Lived munching on an elf-made breakfast, which was quite delicious, and reading through his summer assignments list. He had a happy grin on his face. It was the first time he'd been able to even contemplate his summer work in the open, and he'd be able to practice!

In short, Harry was nothing short of ecstatic.

By the time Sirius stumbled down the stairs, Harry had his DADA assignment completely finished, and his charms essay well underway. Sirius froze, staring at the boy as he happily wrote out answers, picked up his wand and fiddled about with a charm, then continued writing. He didn't move for nearly ten minutes, until Dobby began tugging on his pajama leg. "Master Sirius mustn't let his breakfast get cold, no he mustn't," the small creature said determinedly. Sirius nodded dumbly and sat, while Dobby busied himself gathering all the food Sirius was to eat.

"Harry…" Sirius said worriedly, and Harry glanced up at him, confused. "Why are you doing your homework when school is still almost a month away?" Harry opened his mouth to answer, but Dobby's angry voice cut in first, "Master Harry Potter Sir is a great wizard! Great wizards finish their homework well ahead of time!" Sirius and Harry both stared, wide-eyed, at the elf, who had just done an incredible impression of an angry McGonagall.

Sirius coughed, and Harry shook himself from his shock. "Well," Harry began, deciding that he should always answer for himself, "My aunt and uncle would never let me, you know? I'm just kind of excited that I can, now. If you don't want me to –"

"No, no, that's not what I meant," Sirius said quickly, and not just because Dobby was glaring balefully at him. "It's just that you act like your mother so much sometimes, smiling while you're doing your homework. You look so much like your dad that it's pretty easy to forget he didn't just figure out a way to spawn you asexually or something,"

Harry snorted and looked at Sirius in frank disbelief. "I shouldn't even dignify that with a response," he said. "Asexually, honestly!" He went back to his homework, and the two enjoyed a companionable silence while Dobby was clearing up after himself, and Sirius was finishing eating.

Just as Sirius wiped up the last of his egg with a bit of toast, Harry set aside his quill with a sight and rubbed his wrist. "There, two down. And quills are a pain," Sirius raised his eyebrows again at the 'two' comment, but his curiosity peaked on the subject of quills. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"Don't tell me you don't know about pens," Harry said quickly, but Sirius could only stare back blankly. Harry sighed. "They're a Muggle thing – they work like a self-inking quill, but they only cost something like a knut or two a piece. They are a lot easier on hands than quills, since you don't have to worry about dripping or anything. And parchment? Honestly? Muggles have had lined paper out in the world for so long that it's starting to get phased out, and then wizards will be three generations behind the writing game,"

Sirius shrugged. "I've never really cared for all that Muggle stuff anyway. I mean, by definition it doesn't have any magic, so how cool could it be?" Harry raised both eyebrows at that. "Sirius, that's half the point. Without the convenience of magic, Muggles have to be two to three times as inventive as the average wizard. Even then, sometimes they come up with things that have no magical equivalent," Harry pursed his lips, thinking. "Have you ever seen a movie, Sirius?" A head shake. "How about Muggle candy?" Another head shake. "A gun?" Harry tried desperately. A third head shake.

"Get dressed in Muggle clothes," Harry said, his voice hard. "We're going to London today. I need new clothes anyway,"

Oo. Oo.

A/N: Well everyone, if you're wondering why I haven't updated Naruto's Vacation in a timely manner, here's 1/4 of your reasons. The other three are school, my jobs, and the other story I'm writing when bits of it come to me. All of these reasons keep beating me over the head with their importance and I end up doing less slower than I ever thought I would. Sorry about that. If it helps, I've got some good thoughts on it, so when I get the time, I oughta be able to pound out the next chapter. I hope you like this one too, though.

Review if you've got a second; I need all the help I can get!