Disclaimer: Nothing that you recognize belongs to me

Knock, Knock, Knock

Sirius stared at the train compartment door for a moment before hauling himself to his feet and pulling it open.

"Yes?" he asked.

A boy stood there. He looked a little younger than Sirius, but his emerald green eyes shone with what resembled age.

"Can I sit here?" the boy asked with a grin.

He had a very nice grin, almost crooked, but mostly just dazzling. It reminded Sirius of something that he couldn't put his finger on.

The boy had black hair with green tips almost reaching his shoulders. His tee-shirt revealed the end of a tattoo reaching up to his neck, and that intrigued Sirius, who was thinking of getting one himself.

"Sure," he said, moving aside to let the boy enter, and collapsing onto one of the sides of the train compartment. Unfortunately, Remus was also sitting on the couch, and Sirius ended up half on top of him, like he was before.

"Who're you?" James grunted.

The boys green eyes glimmered with mischief. "Harry," he answered simply.

"Looks like a Slytherin," James said quietly.

"A what?" Harry asked mock-stupidly.

He needed to talk to Dumbledore.

Harry was beginning his first day of teaching at Hogwarts, just a few years after he graduated, and even fewer years after defeating Voldemort. He saw a flash of light, and entered the train.

He wandered for a moment or two, not sure who looked like a Gryffindor when he found himself face to face with Frank Longbottom, snogging some girl.

He backed out of the compartment and his brain began ticking. Something had happened.

When he saw Sirius at the next compartment, he knew that he'd been thrown back in time a considerable number of years.

He found Sirius fascinating, having not seen him looking so young without the use of a pensive, and accidentally gawked, but managed to control it when he thought of where he last saw his godfather. The day that he disappeared behind that veil at the Ministry of Magic.

"a Slytherin is a nasty little git," Sirius explained.

Sirius looked over his book at the new boy, Harry, who'd taken a seat beside James, and noticed a slight resemblance in his facial structure, but pushed the thought out of his mind. "Where are you transferring from?" he asked.

Harry's eyes grinned, if the rest of his face held only a slightly faded smile. "Nowhere of consequence," he said calmly.

It actually was of consequence considering where he was now. He couldn't mess with time, and though he'd begun to handle the Peter-betrayal, he didn't know if he could manage not to kill him a second time.

"All right," Remus said uneasily, "Just so you know, a Slytherin is a house at Hogwarts. There's also Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor."

Sirius grinned, "Clearly, Gryffindors are the best,"

"Is that what all of you are?" Harry asked, swapping his knowledge for innocence easily. He was an excellent liar.

"Of course," James answered simply. "Dunno where Wormtail is, though," he said grumpily.

"What's with you?" Sirius complained.

Remus' dark blue eyes took on a knowing glimmer. "Got turned down by his Lilikins, again." he said quietly.

Harry laughed a very nice hearty, but not throaty laugh that made Sirius stare for more than one long moment.

His head was tipped back and his hair was sent carelessly behind him. The trail of tattoo on his neck moved slightly, and Sirius started. The green eyed boys well-toned stomach contorted with each chuckle, and the muscles on his arms clenched slightly.

Sirius kept staring.

Harry was at least as muscled as Sirius or James was, and that was saying something. But he was strong in another way, too. He had a sort of spirit and strength of mind that Sirius found very interesting.

Harry knew that he shouldn't have drawn attention to himself, but he couldn't help it. His parents weren't together yet. He knew that all of this had to happen, but he didn't know that he'd be a part of it. How would he get them together?

"I did not get turned down!" James exclaimed frustrated-ly. He'd been after Lily Evans for years, and he couldn't believe that a complete stranger would laugh at him!

"Sorry," Harry peeped.

It was like looking at himself years ago, and he knew that he was dangerous when he got angry. He didn't want to be hexed just then… or rather, hex his father just then.

Sirius hardly blamed James for fancying Lily. Her long dark red hair was so perfect and straight and her green eyes glimmered with amusement even when James was around.

At second glance, Harry looked like Lily, too. he couldn't get his own electric blue eyes off of Harry. He looked so… experienced. Sirius was captivated.

Harry was perpetually told how much he looked like his father, James. He had the same jet black hair that flat out refused to stay where it was put, the same nose and cheekbones, and same chin, hands, feet. Everything. But he had his mother, Lily's eyes.

James' were hazel, which was fine for him, but Harry really fancied his emerald green eyes that popped out so much against his black hair.

As soon as he graduated, Harry got a very hot tattoo of a dragon on his chest, (a la sixth book) and another of his godfather on his shoulder. He grew out his hair and dyed the tips green.

Being weighted down by the new length, it now lay where he left it, but managed to have just the right amount of life. Nobody ever said that he looked like James anymore, not that he saw many people who knew his dad first hand anymore either.

Remus knew his father, and Remus knew Harry in his own time.

There would always be Remus.

His adopted godfather. The man who stayed with Harry through everything. The man who's old teaching position Harry was now supposed to be filling. The man who was sitting in front of him with Sirius' legs in his lap. His sandy blonde hair was longer than Harry remembered it, but those thoughtful blue eyes would always be the same.

James shrugged, "She'll never date me. Never." He complained.

Sirius rolled his eyes, "You're right. You should move on." He said, clearly stoking the fire.

The boys eyes nearly popped out of his head, "What are you talking about? She loves me! And I love her! We'll be together soon, and you'll see! It'll be perfect!"

Harry didn't remember his father being so desperate when he'd seen him in the pensive. Whatever. He understood. Sort of.

He'd been relatively desperate over a few people, but he'd always changed his mind eventually. He figured that he must have gotten that trait from his mother.

Remus sniggered and turned back to his book, but Sirius couldn't force himself to look away from the newcomer. He aided his nerves by babbling. He told Harry a few things about Hogwarts, then James butted in.

"How old are you?" he asked curiously, stopping Sirius mid-sentence.

Harry froze on the inside, but he was better at handling his problems than that. He didn't show it. "How old are you?" he asked with a smile that he didn't feel.

James raised an eyebrow, "Seventeen," he said uncomfortably.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Sirius grinned, "Prongslett doesn't know if he can trust you. But don't worry, we can."

Harry was surprised, "How do you know that?" he asked defensively.

"That we can trust you, or what Prongs was thinking?" Sirius asked for clarification.

"The first one," Harry replied. He didn't care what his dad thought of him.

Yes; there was a touch of resentment towards the father that had been killed when Harry was only a year old. A touch of abandonment. It was easy to lie to him, easy to pretend because he'd never met the man properly.

Sirius' smile faded uncomfortably, "I don't know," he answered honestly, "I've got a good feeling about you."

Harry ordinarily would have retorted with something about where that feeling was located, but he held it in. This boy was standing up for him.

"Good." Harry answered simply.

The compartment door slid open and a group of Slytherins appeared with Peter in front of the cluster of sneering, black robed teens. Sirius leapt up to his feet and glared over at them.

"You're new here." One of them said to Harry, stating the obvious so badly that it hurt.

Harry pretended that he didn't recognize the woman who killed Sirius in the future. His own cousin, Bellatrix Black.

"Yes, I am." He said as calmly as he could, trying not to maul the huddle of Slytherins and that rat, Peter.

"You'll be a Slytherin." She said after half a moments hesitation.

He held back the glare that itched the back of his eyeballs.

"Like hell I will." He said, dangerously close to the end of his fuse.

The girl sneered and stormed away from the door. The Slytherins followed her, and left Peter standing in the empty space, staring helplessly at his friends, who glared back angrily.

"What were you doing with them?" James growled.

"I-I…" Peter stammered, "They-they,"

Remus' kind usually kind eyes held only a touch of resentment. A glimmer of anger. "What did they do to you?" he asked gently.

Sirius picked up where his friend left off. "They found you in front of the express?" the pudgy boy meekly nodded.

"And they threatened to hex you?" he asked, still at attention, staring into the boy's beady black eyes. Peter nodded again.

"We'll get them back." Sirius said, sounding very certain and very confident as his gaze settled on the ceiling as he laid back down across the bench and Remus.

Harry stared at the wall in front of him, a foot or two above Sirius' head. They made it so easy for Peter to lie. That boy was pure evil. He was betraying all of them right now.

"Who're you?" Peter asked thickly through a recently-bought cauldron cake.

The boy started and his eyes found Peters. "Harry." He said shortly.

"Harry what?" Peter asked stupidly.

James looked interested. He hadn't said, had he?

"Harry… Porter." He said finally.

James' eyes fell on the trail of tattoo, but didn't rest on it the way that Sirius' had. He saw the muscles on his arms, and the green tips of his hair. The shining emerald of his eyes, but didn't stare the way that Sirius couldn't help.

He did notice, though, that he had Lilys eyes. That was interesting. There was something different about them, though. They looked heavier. As if he had to endure something that none of the Marauders could ever dream. But how was that possible? He wasn't any older than they were, he might even have been younger.

"Well… Welcome to Hogwarts," Peter said happily.

Don't you speak to me, you traitor!

Terrible thoughts flooded Harry's mind, but he forced himself to smile gratefully. He'd always come off better by lying a little.

Harry zoned out for almost an hour, thinking about Voldemort's defeat, and Hermione, and Ron, and Remus. How was it possible that they'd all survived? They fought side-by-side with him, and Ron's little sister, Ginny, had tried. Obviously, she'd nearly killed herself, and only made everybody worry. They managed what they needed to, though. They defeated Voldemort.

He let his thoughts wander and they passed to Sirius. His godfather.

He may have died in Harry's time, but here, his life was just beginning. Sirius was robbed of so much time. A mere three years after he graduated, he was thrown into Azkaban. Then, just after he'd escaped, he got killed.

His godson still blamed himself for that. He meant so much to Harry, he cared about him, and took care of him. He stood up for Harry, and something told him that he would see him again, in his own time.

Yes, Sirius was alive in this time, and he was staring at Harry. The boy started and looked back. A moment later, his lips turned up in a grin.

"Hi," he said casually.

"Hey," Sirius said.

This was so strange. He was used to having people fawn all over him. He was used to following girls to the ends of the earth until he got bored, but this was different. Harry had no interest in him, and it was strange that Sirius did.

He cleared his throat lightly and blinked, then nervously asked "You have a tattoo?"

Harry grinned his gorgeous, lopsided smile, "A few," he said calmly.

He stood and removed his shirt, revealing a six-pack and detailed dragon tattoo that stretched across his chest, the flaming breath of which crept up his neck. He let them gaze for a moment, then shifted his torso so that they could see his left upper arm.

There was a picture of a grim, peering at them all ominously through electric blue eyes.

The compartment door slammed open, and while a red haired girl gawked at Harry's chest and stomach, he calmly pulled his shirt back on.

"Hello," he said, not fazed by her open-mouthed staring.

"H-h… Hi," she said nervously.

Harry's calm eyes flickered with nervousness for less than a second, then he was back with his game face on. "I'm Harry," he said serenely.

The girl's stammering composure was quickly remedied; "Lily Evans," she said. "You're new to Hogwarts?" Harry nodded, "I expect you're in seventh year?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure," Harry said, "I think so."

"You think so?" Lily repeated, baffled. To be honest, he was gorgeous. And in a completely different way than the Marauders, who were aware of their appeal and let it make them cocky and irritating. Harry nodded innocently.

"Well, I hope I'll see you in Gryffindor." She said shortly. She was about to leave, when Harry touched her arm lightly. She whirled back around.

"Yes?" she asked, sounding so much more calm and collected than before.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, "but weren't you going to say something to James?" Obviously, he knew this from his extensive Occlumency studies. He couldn't help but know that she'd stormed to their compartment to yell at him about something.

Lily looked confused for almost a moment, she glanced at the ground, and when she glanced back up, she was looking at James. "Um… yes. I was just wondering what… happened with the Slytherins?" she asked calmly.

James looked elated that she was going to talk to him. "When they showed up here after messing with Wormtail?" he asked.

Harry's eyes flicked to Peter's, who was looking at the ground guiltily. How clueless were they all? They let him lie to them all constantly!

"Yes," Lily said calmly. She was looking at him through the tops of her lashes, which was generally a flirtatious thing. But that wasn't possible, was it?

Harry wasn't doing anything to help them flirt, though he easily could. He was busy staring at the ground so as not to exercise any advanced magic against the person who betrayed his parents, framed his godfather, and let him grow up an orphan.

"Hmm…" James said, "Nothing, really. I let them go."

Right, you did!

Harry wanted to tackle the boy who sat so innocently across the compartment. Wanted to suffocate him in his sleep, but he couldn't. If Peter didn't betray his parents, Lily Evans wouldn't protect Harry, even in her death. Voldemort would have swooped down upon Hogwarts so much sooner than Harry was ready for him. The Dark Lord wouldn't have been defeated.

Lily looked impressed, "Oh." she said softly. "See you later." Then she walked out of the compartment.

Sirius grinned. She had stared at Harry, too. He wasn't the only one. James grinned. Lily spoke to him. Remus grinned. Now he wouldn't have to listen to James' complaints anymore. Peter grinned. They all bought his story, and he didn't even have to make it up himself.

Harry glared at the floor, thinking dangerous thoughts about Peter and all of those Slytherins out there. Surely, one future Death Eater didn't matter much. He could take out Bellatrix. He could make it look like an accident.

A mental image of Dumbledore floated through his head, and Harry visibly relaxed. Even though that man did so much to keep Harry from danger, from action, from defeating Voldemort and from the wizarding world, Harry respected him.

Sirius pondered to himself how amazing Harry looked no matter what he was feeling: Anger, relaxation, or even nervousness. It was so strange for Sirius to appreciate any males looks. It was difficult because he had dated almost every girl in Hogwarts, and none of them made him want to blush the way that Harry did.

Harry looked up and saw Sirius' eyes again on him. He didn't mind, really. He hadn't had much time with his godfather before he died, and even after, Harry hadn't gotten anything from those pensive visits.

He understood that Sirius snogged girls religiously. He understood that he was James' best friend forever. He finally understood how he wanted to kill Peter that night in Harry's third year when Padfoot and Wormtail met again.

The lights dimmed and the boys changed into their school robes. Harry's were free of house crest, not having planned to be a student that evening. Luckily. The Marauders assumed that it had something to do with his being a new student, not his being a professor. Harry really hoped that they would be as clueless about his frightening knowledge of the dark arts.

Everybody entered the Great Hall shortly after. The Slytherins went to the Slytherin table, the Gryffindors went to the Gryffindor table, and Harry went to the Heads table. He stood directly in front of Dumbledore and waited to be addressed. Only when the old man turned his head did Harry speak.

"Sir, there's been a little problem. I need to be sorted tonight." He said in slightly hushed tones out respect and even a little awe.

This was the person who kept Harry from doing anything serious all through his years at Hogwarts. The person who kept him from even more serious things after he graduated. The man who ran Hogwarts with so much fun spirit and authority that even the Minister of Magic recognized his knowledge and logic.

"Of course, of course. Get in line with the first years. What is your name?" the man asked.

"Harry Porter." Harry replied diligently, then he got in line with the first years, somehow even managing to make that look cool. He marveled Dumbledore's less ancient face. His face at all, really.

In the years since he'd passed, Harry had learned that not everything was Dumbledore's fault the way that Harry had first thought. He really couldn't have done anything about a lot of the things that he did that made Harry's life more miserable. He'd done his best, and Harry was grateful.

Eventually, 'Harry Porter' was called, and Harry sauntered up to the very short stool with a calm smile on his face. It felt nice not to be gawked at for anything he didn't remember.

Hmm… Harry Porter… not related to James Potter? Lily Evans? Anything like that?

There was that voice in his ear. "Of course not. Please, just sort me into Gryffindor, where we both know I belong." Harry said calmly.

Very well, do stop by and chat later, though. Very curious thing, time travel. Your scar remains. "Gryffindor!"

The Hall erupted in applause from all sides. Hell, he was hot!

Harry walked over to and sat with the Marauders somewhat more confused than he had been before. His scar…? That meant that his body hadn't changed through the travel. Duh, he had his tattoos.

The hat wasn't stupid. It wouldn't say anything that wasn't important and had at least two meanings.

Okay, so somewhere on his forehead sat his lightning bolt shaped scar, left from being the only survivor of the killing curse. There wasn't any other meaning, though, was there?

"Congratulations," Lily said to Harry. He noticed that she was sitting next to James.

Harry smiled, "Thanks." He said calmly. It wouldn't do to have her like him that way. She was his mother, for Merlin's sake.

"Congratz, mate." Sirius said almost drunkenly. But that wasn't possible. The pumpkin juice wasn't spiked. Unless… "Come on, have some," he said quietly.

Harry grinned at his future godfather. "Mate, you've had enough for both of us. And you don't want to get drunk at school."

That was why he wanted to be a teacher. To train the next generation of do-gooders, and trouble-makers. To mold their futures. But honestly, even if he was in his position as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, he would have laughed at Sirius. Especially a drunk Sirius.

"Aww… why not?" Sirius pouted. Harry almost had to admit that he had a very cute pout, then he pulled himself back to reality. "We're having a party later… to celebrate your Gryffindor status," he said, his words tugging at a slur.

"Excellent." Harry said, "But I've got to talk to Dumbledore first," Sirius nodded, and Harry noticed that a 'Weasley, Bill' was being called. Harry grinned. He was a Gryffindor. All of the Weasley siblings tried to help in their own ways to defeat the Dark Lord.

Sure enough, Bill was instantly called a Gryffindor. He found a seat among some rather tiny little first years and began talking animatedly with a few girls. Harry nodded over there and grinned at Remus who was the only one who would have noticed.

One Marauder was a treacherous creep, another was looking dreamily at his future girlfriend/wife, and another was rather drunk in a rather short amount of time.

Remus grinned back. Bill was adorable. Then, Harry's eyes fell on Sirius' goblet.

"What is that?" Harry asked, trying to sound disgusted, but he was rather well acquainted with drinking, himself, and was genuinely interested.

"Britain's finest green fairy…" Sirius muttered.

Harry stifled a laugh; "You're drinking muggle alcohol?" he asked incredulously.

"Why's that so bad?" Sirius asked stupidly, "I'm not like my family, you know!"

"Shh," Harry said quietly, "I didn't say you were. I was just surprised you weren't drinking anything stronger, is all."

Sirius rolled his eyes, "What are you drinking?" he asked, posing a challenge.

"Pumpkin juice." Harry replied calmly.

The feast was over far too soon, and far too soon, Harry found himself once again, in Dumbledore's office.

"All right, then…" the old man muttered almost incomprehensibly, "What happened?"

"Sir?" Harry asked uncertainly, "Sir, I just… something happened. I was put back in time and I don't know why. In case you don't recognize me, I'm Harry Potter… your future Defense professor… or… 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' if you must. Anyways, I'm really glad that you're letting me go to school here, and that's really all that I need other than what year I'm in," he said quickly.

He didn't mind his infamous title anymore. He was used to it, and now he remembered defeating Voldemort. He understood how important that was, and why other wizards needed to congratulate him.

"How old are you?" Dumbledore asked distractedly.

"Twenty-four," Harry answered promptly.

"How old are you… in this time?" the man asked more carefully.

"Good question. Last I checked, I wasn't born yet." Harry answered calmly.

Dumbledore smiled, "You'll be a seventh year. Merlin knows you look it. Don't scare the younger ones," he warned.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Harry assured him.

"You're dismissed… Oh, and the Head Boy and Girl are both in your house, so if you need help…"

"I don't think I will, Sir. I went to Hogwarts, and my parents are the Heads." Harry said almost proudly. Then he walked out of the office.

He used a few secrets to get into the Common Room unnoticed. He wandered to the seventh year boys dormitory and entered slowly. James was sitting on his bed with a bottle of something, Sirius was sitting on his bed with more green liquid, and Remus sat on his bed with a glass of wine.

"Hi," Harry said amusedly, his eyes flicking over the liquor.

"Come try some of this. It's amazing!" Sirius gushed.

Harry smiled calmly. Since Sirius died, somebody had actually named a drink 'The Harry Potter' which was surprisingly strong. Sirius would have loved it.

Harry wished that he could have some just then. He took the small shot glass that Sirius handed him, raised it to his lips and threw his head back.

He emerged with a slightly larger grin on his face, and wandered to his trunk. He dug around for a minute or two, and emerged with a bottle of 'Harry Potter' that he knew he'd packed in there somewhere.

"James!" Sirius exclaimed, "Your name's everywhere!"

Harry shot him a confused glance, which, though it was very cute, Sirius answered immediately. "I found Potter on my family tree while I was being blown off," he said, calmly downing another shot.

Harry could see resentment in his electric blue eyes, and chose to let him drink it away. There was a problem.

He had the Marauders Map in his pocket.

He had to think of a way to check it for Peter without any Marauders seeing it. In short, he had to get them all very, very drunk. Harry was a good drinker, very used to it, and it took an awful lot of anything to get him drunk. He poured his shot glass full of the bottle in his hand and downed it, again and again and again. The fire in his throat felt welcome and warm in his stomach. He was reminded of Grimauld Place, still sitting in its gloom.

Harry killed Kreacher the moment he had the chance. The moment that they were in the same building and Dumbledore was dead. He didn't hang him on the wall with the other house elves, he buried him outside of Azkaban, where he'd hated Sirius from, and now could rot for all of eternity. Shortly after, Harry had gone after Peter, but that was carefully hushed up as he'd killed him in rat form.

There was another thing of interest in that pocket. A two-way mirror that Sirius gave to him when he was still alive. Harry felt a tug at the back of his brain. He should have contacted Ron by then, to tell him how ugly the first years were. Ron would be worried, but how was he supposed to use that mirror? Obviously, he had the other one, but he was in a completely different time.

Harry raised an eyebrow and his shot glass at the same time. Sirius launched himself across the room and seized the bottle of 'Harry Potter'. He downed a gulp or two, then realized that it was very strong, and scurried across the room to down some of Remus' wine. Harry laughed again at his godfathers antics.

"Shut up, Harry." Sirius whined. Harry was surprised how much he sounded like Ron. Harry shrugged and tried to ignore him, while downing some of the liquid straight from the bottle. "And would you quit that? It's unnatural!" Sirius exclaimed.

Harry sighed and capped the bottle. He felt like a trespasser on their time. He wanted them all to trust and love him the way that they did in the future. They were his family. He was their mini-Prongs. It was all so perfect. So perfect that it had to end.

"I'm going to…" Harry trailed off, then he was gone.

He wandered around the school for an hour or so, to re-acquaint himself. He found himself in front of the grand double doors. Then he was outside. In the next instant, he was an enormous lion with a huge shaggy mane.

He was an Animagus.

He was thinking about registering in his own time, not that he could even think about it now. He ran head-long into the Forbidden Forest, not sure what he was looking for.

He knew that somewhere on his forehead was a small lightning-bolt shaped scar. He knew that no matter what potion or spell he tried, he couldn't get it to go away. He knew that he wanted to talk to Sirius.

The Sirius that he was supposed to know. The Sirius that always knew exactly what to do and how to say it. The Sirius that was his godfather.

The memory of that brave man falling through the curtain was almost too much for Harry. He shook his out his mane and continued walking.

Harry didn't remember that vibrancy to his godfather's eyes. Even his skin was energetic and excited. Harry could easily see how he'd gotten his womanizing title. He had to admit, even in the very deepest depths of his mind, that Sirius was very good-looking.

He had to keep calling him his godfather. Otherwise, the seventh year's good looks might get to Harry. He might begin to admit an attraction. But that wasn't possible. He had to keep moving.

Harry was tempted to talk to a pair of animals as they passed him, but he kept silent and continued walking as slowly and proudly as the king of the forest does, right past the stag and dog resembling the grim. Actually, Harry had a tattoo of that dog on his left arm, near his shoulder.

"Harry!" he heard, but did not turn around.

"Chill, Potter. We know you're there."

Still, he continued. He couldn't bring himself to admit all that he knew about all four of them. All that he knew about their futures, their early deaths and devastations. It was easier not to talk to them at all. But how long does ease last?

Apparently, not long.

Moments later, the two animals ran up to him. Harry could have easily outrun them both, but he stood his ground. He was taller and meaner-looking than Sirius, and more proud and graceful than James.

He tossed his mane and transformed human. The others transformed a moment later.

"Yes?" he asked calmly.

"Wicked." Sirius muttered, "I mean, I knew, but… Wicked." he was more than just shocked and pleased to see Harry's form.

"Yes," Harry said again, with a different tone.

"Anyways." James interrupted, beginning to see the look on Sirius' face, and not liking it. "You sort of stormed out. Are you okay?" he asked.

Harry was surprised. He wasn't even a Marauder and his dad cared about him. "I'm fine," he said hastily.

"Sure." Sirius accepted, "Just wanted to make sure you weren't going to kill someone."

Although, if he did, Sirius wanted to watch. There was no telling how Harry would look then. With his eyes alight with fury, maybe a bit of sweat dripping down his back… NO! Bad Sirius!

Harry laughed, "No, I was just sort of… weirded out,"

"Because of…?" James prompted.

"Nothing. Let's go back to the castle. We've got classes in the morning." Harry said hastily.

James shrugged and they all headed up to that huge building looming before them on the other side of the Forbidden Forest.

"So… Harry…" Sirius said slowly. Harry looked over at him with a feint smile playing across his lips. "Why did you say your last name's Porter?"

"Because… it is?" Harry asked simply, hoping that he would buy the lie.

"No, it's not." Sirius said firmly, "Your name is Harry Potter."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "I'm sorry, you must have the wrong Harry."

"The Map doesn't lie." James said distractedly, trying to pick his way through the Forest without the help of the Map that he and his friends relied so much upon.

"What map?" Harry asked with what he hoped sounded like interest.

Sirius grinned, "Only the most fantastic, brilliant, abso-fucking-lutely wicked bit of parchment in all the world; magic and muggle!" he babbled.

"Um… what?" Harry asked.

James smiled, "The Marauders Map. You don't think that we managed all of this by ourselves, do you?" he asked amusedly.

Harry had an odd expression on his face that Sirius couldn't place, "I sort of figured you lot for more like… legends, than actual wizards,"

Sirius laughed his bark-like laugh, "Us? Legends… The legendary Marauders… the princes of prank!"

James chuckled, "Legends… really… The infamous Marauders…"

Harry thought that it was pretty much fantastic that they were off the subject of his name. They continued walking along; Harry let James lead them, but kept an eye on the turns that they took, and exactly where in the forest they were. That way, if his father got them lost, he could find his way out.

Ten minutes later, Sirius and James were over their legendary status… mostly. James managed to get them out of the forest, and up to their school.

"Really, though, Potter. Don't lie to the Marauders." Sirius said firmly as they entered the grand front doors to the castle, "We'll get you back." Harry smiled at the evil glint in the boy's eye.

James nodded, "I just don't get why you bothered changing it. What did you do to soil the Potter name?" he asked accusatorily.

They were strolling down a pale stone corridor now.

Harry laughed, "Nothing! I just," but he was saved from completing this sentence, because a group of five or six Slytherins that Harry recognized as future Death Eaters came upon them from around a corner with their wands drawn.

Harry's wand was up in an instant, and it took only a moment or two more for the other two boys to raise their own wands.

"What do you want?" Harry growled, so used to dueling that the mood and attitude fell into place like a glove.

His facial expression was the perfect combination of arrogance and intimidation. His body was straight and at attention, and relaxed too. Like they couldn't do anything to him. His emerald green eyes were lit up with anger and confidence. This was the attitude that he killed Peter with. The attitude with which he destroyed Voldemort, the most evil man in a century at least. The attitude that he turned onto these disgusting and incapable gits.

Bellatrix was taken aback for a moment. What was with this boy? He was set and ready for a fight, and it frightened her. His composure was so appealing, though. She couldn't take her eyes off of him.

"We just wanted to welcome you to Hogwarts." She said with a simpering voice.

"Excuse me," Harry said calmly, "But doesn't that usually include a gift?" Sirius snorted and looked over at the boy. He ripped his eyes away a moment later. God he was gorgeous.

"Very well," Snape, who stood beside her said, "Stupefy!"

Harry ducked and avoided the red flash of light that hit a wall behind him. "Protego!" he exclaimed. Snape was thrown into a wall. Harry smirked at his obvious pain.

While Snape groaned and picked himself off of the floor, Bellatrix screamed "Imperio!"

The new boy… what shall I have you do…Bow down and announce your loyalty to the Dark Lord.

Harry scoffed, "An unforgivable, Bella? That's hardly complimentary," He, of course, had been immune to this curse since fourth year when he'd learned to ignore it.

"Furnunculus" he said. Bella broke out in boils. Sirius and James laughed, but didn't react as Snape lurched forward.

"Serpensortia!" he cried. A huge black snake shot out of the end of his wand, poised to attack.

Harry was reminded of a time in his second year when Malfoy was taught this spell. He was completely calm, he didn't have to worry. He was a Parselmouth.

"Go away. Get out of here." He instructed. But what came out of his mouth was not English. It was a strange hissing.

"Where am I to go, Master?" the snake asked. All of the Hogwarts students stared from the snake to Harry. He could speak to snakes!

"The Forbidden Forest. And never return." Harry instructed.

"Yes, Master." The snake hissed obediently, then he slithered away, out a window to the looming forest. Harry turned his attention back to Snape, who was staring at him with a positively evil glint in his eye.

"Rictumsempra!" Snape cried.

Harry barely saw the jet of silver light coming at him before screaming "Protego!" the light flew back at Snape and hit him in the stomach. He doubled over and started laughing hysterically.

Only then did Harry wonder vaguely to himself why Snape wanted to hit him with a tickling charm.

"Anybody else?" Harry asked, his voice intimidating and brave and ready for anything.

Snape couldn't move, let alone utter a curse, so he was completely out of the question. The remaining Slytherins left them alone, and hurried to some dark corner to discuss, dragging along Bellatrix and Severus.

Harry took off for a concealed passageway and sprinted down it, then another and another, pushed aside a tapestry and was mere meters from the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Balderdash," he said hastily.

He could hear footsteps behind him, and didn't care to whom they belonged. He hurried into the Common Room and up to his dormitory.

Remus and Peter were asleep.

Harry wanted to go to sleep, but found that his adrenaline kept his heart beating at an abnormally fast rate.

Sirius and James burst into the dormitory a moment later and instantly congratulated Harry.

"Mate… that was amazing," James said. Anybody who could handle Slytherins with that much ease was just fine in his book.

"More than amazing," Sirius corrected, "I've never seen anything like it!"

In truth, Harry had looked at least amazing while he was dueling those two. He was confident and had enough knowledge and experience to back up his arrogance.

His emerald green eyes were still lit up with excitement, and his hair was still messier than it ordinarily would have been. A few beads of sweat sat on Harry's forehead. It was incredibly appealing. Sirius found his thoughts lingering on those eyes… they were truly incredible.

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and wiped away the sweat from his brow. He immediately knew that he shouldn't have when Sirius and James gawked at his forehead. Damn. His scar.

What's that?" James asked almost defensively.

"You tattooed your head?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Man, that must've hurt like hell!" The tough-ness that Harry exerted effortlessly was intoxicating. It demanded attention.

Harry almost smiled. That scar had hurt worse than anything. Worse than the Cruciatus, worse than Cedric's death, worse than anything in this world.

So in a way, Sirius was right. After Voldemort died it faded slightly, but when Harry got nervous or excited, it stood out as he paled. And it did now.

"Not exactly," Harry answered vaguely.

"It didn't hurt?" Sirius asked wildly. He knew that Harry was tough, but damn! Amazingly, Sirius grew slightly more attracted at that thought.

"What? No," Harry said, "It's not a tattoo,"

"Huh?" Sirius asked, still amazingly attracted.

"Just… a scar," Harry said.

A legendary scar that was the only sign that he'd survived a killing curse shot by the most powerful dark wizard in a century.

"Wow… In that shape?" James marveled.

"Yup," Harry said, hoping that they wouldn't ask what he knew they would.

"From what?" Sirius asked, wanting to go over and run his fingers across it… and a few other choice places.

There it was, the question that Harry was dreading. "Nothing, really," Harry lied hastily.

Sirius and James were somewhat less than impressed with this answer. Harry could tell that they wouldn't let him get away without a better explanation.

"I've just… sort of been through some stuff," he explained hastily.

"Like…?" Sirius prompted.

"Like a few more duels than I probably should've," Harry answered.

Across the room, Remus stirred.

Sirius froze for a moment, then remembered that Remus was a Marauder, and therefore very trustworthy.

"How many duels could you have been in? You're only a seventh year!" he exclaimed.

Harry sighed, "Yeah," he said unhappily, knowing that he couldn't tell them anything without telling them everything, and with Peter in the room, that just wasn't okay in his book.

"Look, I'm going to sleep." He said stiffly, then he lied down and closed his eyes, steadied his breathing and listened to their conversation die out.

"That's a load of rubbish," James commented minutes later, after he decided that Harry was asleep.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed, "But what are we supposed to do about it?"

"Make him tell us," James replied like it was the only answer.

"How? What if he hexed us?" Sirius asked, "That guy is scary!" Harry took offense to that. Sirius was afraid of him?

James laughed, "Come on! We could take him! They were Slytherins!"

Sirius sighed, "But Slytherins know the most about the Dark Arts."

"Well, apparently Harry knows more about then than anyone." James said oddly.

"What's going on?" Remus asked, his sleepy voice adding to those of James and Sirius. The two of them informed him of everything, then waited for his reply. Which turned out to be, "Oh."

"Oh?" Sirius asked rudely, "That's all? Oh?"

Remus yawned, "Oh." He repeated, "It's his life. His secrets. Besides, it seems like he's been through a lot,"

"How much could he have been through?" James asked loudly.

Harry made a sleepy noise to shut him up. If Peter woke, they would tell him, too, and he would tell Voldemort, and that could not end well for Harry.

Remus' voice was even quieter than before, and Harry had to strain his ears to hear him.

"I don't know. He comes here unexpected in seventh year, has a weird scar, loads of tattoos," Harry grinned into his pillow at that one, "And he knows more about dueling than Slytherins."

"And?" Sirius prompted.

"And," Remus said with another yawn, "there may be more to him that we know. Give him some time. He'll loosen up." Those three went to sleep after that, and Harry marveled at how wise Remus was even at this young age, and how James and Sirius respected his opinions, and listened to him.

He drifted to sleep hours later, thinking about how innocent Sirius was. He was curious about Harry, and somehow that comforted him. His being there made a difference.

It felt strange to be genuinely complimented by him, who had known enough to be an auror in his own time. He also wondered what he should do in this time. He had a month, tops.

He refused to waste more time than that. He needed to know what was going on, and he needed to contact McGonagall.

As Deputy Headmistress, she'd stepped up when Dumbledore died and was the one who'd employed Harry. He'd figure out how to talk to her tomorrow. For now, all that he needed to think about was sleep.

A/N- There you are! Thanks for reading though that chapter. I know that's not exactly long in some people's standards, but for me it is.

Love it or hate it, tell me what you think!

Dani