I meant to update sooner. My mistake. I'll make an effort to update more frequently in the future, but school starts tomorrow and it may only end up being possible to update on weekends. I'll have to see how the homework load looks.

I do not own the Harry Potter books and I don't own the movies, either. JK Rowling and Warner Bros are the ones who do. I don't make any sort of profit from this writing.

When Harry awoke the following morning, he wasn't immediately sure where he was. Looking around, he saw that he was lying on a large bed in the biggest bedroom he'd ever been in – it was certainly bigger than Dudley's second bedroom, at any rate. Another identical bed was placed against one of the room's four long, gray walls. A tuft of bright orange-red hair was visible above the blankets, and Harry grinned when he realized that it was Ron. He relaxed; if Ron felt safe enough to sleep in this room, then there was most likely not any danger present here.

A soft snort from nearby drew his attention, and looking to his right he saw a mop of black hair resting on the bed next to him. It took a moment, but recognition came in a flash: it was Sirius Black, convicted murderer, escapee from the heavily guarded Wizard prison Azkaban, and, coincidentally, Harry's godfather. Harry's smile widened as he suddenly remembered what had happened. He'd been liberated from the Dursleys. Dumbledore had promised him that he'd never have to go back there. Even better, Sirius and Remus had told him that they loved him; that they were his family. It was the first time in his life that he'd ever heard such a thing, and the memory made him laugh out loud in happiness.

The bedroom door opened at that moment. A head poked around the doorframe, and Harry recognized his old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Professor Lupin!" he greeted, using the man's formal title out of old habit. The werewolf smiled and shook his head.

"It's Remus, Harry. Remus."

"Sorry," Harry grinned. He usually didn't have a problem calling the man by his given name, but for some reason it seemed just as easy to call him 'Professor'.

"How are you feeling this morning, Harry?"

"Much better, thanks," Harry answered. Then, hesitantly, "Thanks for last night." Remus smiled widely, and his face instantly appeared a dozen years younger.

"Oh, you're more than welcome. I meant every word of it, you know."

Roused by the sounds of voices, Sirius sat up, brushing his wild hair out of his eyes and scrubbing a hand over his face. He looked from Harry to Remus with a soft smile.

"Dumbledore wants to talk to you in your office," Remus told him. Harry listened with interest as Sirius cocked his head to the side.

"Finally got around to Flooing me, did he?" he asked. "Alright. I'll go and see what he wants. Harry, I'll be back in a little while." With that, Harry's godfather disappeared out the door. Remus moved out of his way before once again sticking his head around the doorframe. He raised one eyebrow in question. Harry, who had always been good at interpreting body language, leapt to his feet, dutifully following Remus into the hallway.

"So, what's Dumbledore want with Sirius?" Harry asked, feeling slightly uneasy. If Sirius was in trouble, Harry was sure that it would somehow be because of him.

"Oh, I expect we'll be finding out soon enough," Remus answered vaguely, though he smiled a secret little smile that clearly told Harry that he knew more than he was letting on. Before Harry could question him further, Remus changed the subject. "Harry… I'm sorry to say that when we got your owl we acted rather abruptly. Naturally, the Order wanted to know why we disobeyed Dumbledore's direct orders and went to Privet Drive to get you."

Harry felt his blood run cold. "No," he gasped, dread filling him from head to toe. "No. You didn't tell them."

Remus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, cub. We didn't have a choice. Dumbledore tried to keep the explanation as vague as possible, but many of the Order are aurors and almost all of us are very good at reading between the lines. It wasn't possible to keep it a secret."

Harry's face burned with shame. Remus put a comforting arm around his shoulders. Harry frowned. The nature of his life at the Dursleys had been a secret that he'd kept, and kept well, for almost fifteen years now. It was horrifying to know that now everyone knew about it.

"Who knows?" he asked. He'd heard the conversation in the kitchen the day before, of course, when Mrs. Weasley had made his soup. He knew that at the top of the list, other than Remus and Sirius, would be all of the Weasleys, Hermione, and the two people who were called Kingsley and Tonks. He'd never met either of the last two before, and it was embarrassing that complete strangers were aware of the abuse he'd suffered.

"Aside from Sirius, Dumbledore, and myself," Remus listed, "There's Hermione and the Weasleys, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Professor McGonogall, Dedalus Diggle, and…"

Well, that wasn't so bad, Harry thought. Aside from Dedalus Diggle, whom Harry wasn't sure he trusted, none of the people Remus named seemed that bad. Sure, Kingsley and Tonks were strangers, but at least they'd seemed nice enough when Harry had briefly caught sight of them in the kitchen the day before.

"Wait a moment," Harry said slowly as he comprehended the hesitant tone of Remus's voice. "And? And who?"

"Harry," Remus cleared his throat. "You've got to understand that this wasn't my idea. Sirius and I tried to avoid… but Dumbledore… and he's quite clever anyway; would've figured it out on his own just based on the circumstances…"

"Remus," Harry found himself using a warning tone of voice without meaning to. "Who?"

"Professor Snape," Remus blurted, as if speaking fast would help Harry feel better about the situation. It didn't.

"Professor Snape," Harry repeated, but no sound came out. He covered his face with his hands. This was beyond humiliating.

Harry and Remus had walked along the hall as they'd talked. They'd gone down two flights of stairs and were now reaching the first floor landing. Harry recognized the door to the kitchen. He made to enter it, but Remus held him back.

"Harry, I have to warn you about Snape…" but the warning was rendered unnecessary when, at that moment, a low, silky voice from behind them cut into the end of Remus's sentence.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter."

"…he's here right now," Remus finished lamely, squeezing Harry's shoulder in a show of support. Slowly Harry turned on the spot to face his Potions teacher. He expected Snape to be sneering at him with the usual hate-filled gaze. He expected Snape to be standing upright in such a way as to display superiority. He expected Snape's eyes to bore into his own in a way that told Harry very clearly what Snape thought of him. What he saw when he took in Snape's face, however, was even worse than a thousand sneering glares.

Snape was watching Harry with an expression that looked very similar to pity.

****HP******

Sirius wanted to stay with his godson until he was sure that the boy was going to be as fine emotionally as he was physically, but there was no keeping Albus Dumbledore waiting. Entering his office and automatically straightening his posture, Sirius spotted the old man's head sitting in the middle of an emerald green fire in the grate. He strode over to the fireplace, knelt down, and not-so-patiently waited for Dumbledore to get to the point.

The Hogwarts Headmaster gave Sirius an appraising look over the tops of his half-moon spectacles, and Sirius had to fight the urge to fidget nervously. Surely Dumbledore wouldn't be angry at him for saving Harry from more torture at his relatives' hands?

"You've grown up, Sirius," Dumbledore said as a conversation-starter. Sirius paused, unsure of where this was coming from. Of course he'd grown up; he was well into his thirties, after all. Did Dumbledore really expect him to be a teenager for his whole life? Sirius frowned, letting the silence stretch until it became apparent that Dumbledore was going to wait him out.

"Azkaban will tend to do that to you," he answered, and though he'd intended the words to be light and joking, he was forced to swallow uncomfortably at the reminder of the twelve wasted years of his life. He'd been left alone to do a lot of thinking, and it was true that Azkaban had been the place where Sirius had finally been forced to let go of childhood. There was no room for childish thoughts or ambitions in a place like that. In order to survive, let alone stay sane, only the most serious, mature thoughts would do.

Dumbledore didn't reply immediately, choosing instead to survey Sirius once again over his glasses. When the man finally did speak, his words were slow and carefully chosen.

"Sirius, you've always been reckless," he said, and Sirius winced at the hard truth to those words. Dumbledore wasn't one for holding back, and Sirius found himself feeling almost guilty. "You act without thinking and throw caution to the winds." There was a pause. "Do you know why I wanted to talk to you today?"

Sirius had to think about that one. In truth, he had no idea why Dumbledore wanted to talk to him. He had assumed that it had to do with Harry, but so far the conversation didn't seem to be headed in that direction. Thinking it best not to lie to the Headmaster, Sirius shrugged.

"No, sir," he answered, knowing that Dumbledore would want a verbal response. The silver-haired man smiled, his eyes twinkling suddenly.

"You're a good person, Sirius. I'll be honest with you. When James and Lily appointed you as Harry's godfather, I had my doubts." Sirius bristled at that, but Dumbledore silenced him with a look. "I thought you were too reckless; that you would pass on some of your more… ah… mischievous characteristics to the boy. Now that I've had time to observe, however, I see that I was wrong, and that I owe you an apology."

So surprising was this admission that Sirius couldn't think of a single thing to say.

"I was wrong in sending Harry back to the Dursleys year after year," Dumbledore went on softly, and although he sounded ashamed, he kept his eyes on Sirius the whole time. "I honestly thought I was protecting him by keeping him there, but now I wonder what I was thinking. Sirius, if I had let you take Harry that night, you never would have gone after Peter; you would have had your hands full with your godson. I justified it by saying that the blood wards on Privet Drive would keep Voldemort away, but in truth, your home here at Grimmauld Place is just as well protected. The Fidelius Charm alone is enough to keep Voldemort out as long as the Secret-Keeper doesn't betray its location, and that's even without the place being Unplottable. Your family put so many charms on this place to hide it that I don't really know what I was thinking in saying that Harry would be more protected at his aunt's house."

"I only hope we didn't realize it too late," Sirius sighed. The words were rather more harsh than he'd intended, but he couldn't help it. Despite Dumbledore's apology, his words had opened some old wounds that he'd thought had healed over. In response to Sirius's words, Dumbledore bowed his head for a moment. Sirius flinched.

"I share that hope," he sighed. "Now that Voldemort's back Harry will need to rely on us more than ever, and I can only hope that he will be able to do so. It's going to be hard enough as it is. I can't come into contact with him for his own sake; I don't want Voldemort to be able to get into his head. What with the Daily Prophet's attacks on Harry, it's not going to be an easy school year."

"No," Sirius frowned. He hadn't thought about how Harry was going to deal with the Wizarding world's rejection of him.

"Does he know you've been cleared?" Dumbledore asked. Sirius raised his eyebrows.

"No, I was waiting to tell him," he answered. "He's not going to be pleased when he finds out that a good portion of the Order knows what happened at Privet Drive, and I was going to wait until that storm blows over before I drop another surprise on him."

"Sensible idea," Dumbledore agreed. "Still, you might want to tell him, Sirius, before someone else does. Knowing that the Ministry is no longer after you might lift a huge weight off his shoulders."

Sirius pondered this for a moment in silence before he nodded.

"I've got something here for you," Dumbledore said after a while. Sirius looked up at him in surprise. "Hold on just one moment, and I'll pass it through to you."

The old man's head was pulled from the fireplace and a hand was thrust through. It took a moment for Sirius to notice the folded parchment that was clasped in Dumbledore's hand, but then he leaned forward and took it into his own grasp. Dumbledore's hand was withdrawn and seconds later his head reappeared. Sirius hardly noticed; his attention was riveted on the parchment that he'd just unfolded.

"These are adoption papers," he said in wonder. He looked down to the signature on the bottom of the page. "And the Dursleys have already signed them! Dumbledore, what is this?"

"All they need is your signature, Sirius, and Harry will legally be under your permanent care."

"But… why now?"

"It's time," was all Dumbledore replied, but it was enough. Sirius reached onto his desk for a quill, loaded it with ink, and scrawled a hasty signature. Folding the parchment once again, he placed it between Dumbledore's teeth and watched as the man nodded, smiled slightly, and disappeared. The emerald flames vanished. Sirius was left sitting on the floor, a grin building on his face as he realized that Harry was going to be living with him from now on. It may have been fourteen years later than planned, but here he was, the legal guardian of James Potter's son.

*****HP******

Harry desperately wanted to disappear into thin air; at least then he wouldn't be stuck in the kitchen with the members of the mysterious Order of the Phoenix who had apparently stayed behind for breakfast. Oh, how he wished he knew how to Apparate. If he'd thought Snape's pitying gaze had been bad, it was nothing compared to the looks that Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were throwing his way. Snape hadn't said much, but the look in his eyes had made Harry feel incredibly ashamed of himself. Usually Snape would be the first to attack Harry, but today he was being ridiculously polite and even kind. In fact, everyone seemed to be treating Harry like glass. Only the twins, Fred and George, were displaying any sort of normalcy. Harry felt a rush of gratitude towards the trouble makers as they teased him and Ginny for staring at each other for just a second too long. He noticed the warning glare that Mrs. Weasley shot at her sons, and immediately wished she wouldn't do that. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to the fact that anything bad had happened.

After twenty minutes of catching people staring at him, Harry rose to his feet with a shake of his head. Ron and Hermione instantly followed. Harry caught the look on his godfather's face and he saw the half-formed, worried protest on Mrs. Weasley's lips. Before anyone could say a word he'd marched from the room, his best friends on his heels. The three made their way silently to the bedroom that Harry and Ron were sharing.

"Harry, what's up?" Ron asked immediately. Tactless as he was, Ron was always very good at reading Harry.

"I'm sick of this," Harry answered, immediately beginning to pace the room in an attempt to stay calm. "Everyone's acting like I'm going to break at any second. Sirius and the others hardly want me to leave the room. You all keep staring at me."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look.

"Er… Harry," Hermione started apologetically. "None of us mean anything by it. We're just worried about you."

"That's the problem!" Harry spat, exasperated. Hermione flinched, causing Harry to feel a slight twinge of guilt. He made a mental note to get a better control over his temper. As he paced the room, he could have sworn that the empty picture frame on the wall over his bed was snickering at him.

"Come on, mate," Ron said. "None of us knew what was going on at the Dursleys, and now that we've found out about it, it's kind of hard to ignore."

Far from improving Harry's mood, Ron's words only caused Harry to have to fight back a scowl. It wasn't Ron's fault that everyone was thinking like that, he knew, but it was hard to stay calm when even your best friends were looking at you like you were a different person.

"You don't understand," Harry said, frustrated. He threw himself down onto his bed, sitting on the edge angrily.

"Explain it to us," Hermione prodded. Harry turned his gaze onto her.

"This has been going on for years. Years, Hermione," he frowned. "No one's made a big deal of it before. Yeah, I mean, you didn't know about it before, but why should you treat me any differently now just because you've found out one of my biggest secrets? This has been happening since long before you guys met me. I'm still the same person. So why is everyone treating me like I'm about to break?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged another thoughtful look, frowning at each other.

"You're right, Harry," Hermione finally spoke. "I suppose we just feel guilty, is all."

Now Harry was confused.

"Guilty?"

"Well, yeah," Ron shrugged, and Harry found himself feeling grateful for his friend's carefree attitude. "You've been our best friend for four years now and neither of us have noticed that anything was wrong. You'd feel guilty, too, wouldn't you, if it was one of us that was in your place?"

Harry thought about that for a moment before he admitted with a sigh that Ron was right. If Harry had found out that Hermione, or Ron, or even Neville Longbottom was being abused, he'd feel incredibly guilty for not noticing.

"Okay, I can see your point," he conceded. "But still, that doesn't mean you have to treat me like glass. Sirius won't leave my side, Remus keeps looking at me, and even Snape pities me."

"Harry, I know it's hard, but they'll get over it," Ron said. "I expect they're feeling guilty, too. You should've seen McGonogall when she found out last night. It was after you went to bed. She went on and on for almost an hour about how she should've seen the signs. Lit into us pretty good, too, because we didn't notice."

"That's not fair!" Harry exclaimed, not liking the fact that his friends had been blamed for his own secrecy.

"No, but Harry, it's not really fair of you to blame us for worrying, is it? I know you want us to carry on like nothing's changed, and we will, but we need to adjust to this. Let me come to terms with the fact that one of my best friends in the whole world has been beaten nearly to death on a regular basis by the people who are supposed to be his family," Hermione said. Harry cringed at her words, but they opened up a new perspective from him. Suddenly the pitying, worried looks he'd been getting made more sense. They weren't going to be any fun to live with, but at least he now understood the reason he was getting them.

Hesitantly, Harry nodded. Sensing that the danger of a Harry-esque explosion was past, Ron reclined on his bed and Hermione settled into the desk chair that Remus had occupied the previous night.

"Harry, why didn't you tell us?" Ron's hesitant voice called. Harry frowned down at the bedspread, thinking through his response.

"I don't know," he finally lied. Hermione frowned and shook her head, and Harry took that to mean that she knew he wasn't telling the truth. He sighed loudly. "I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to think I was pathetic," he answered honestly.

"Excuse me?" Ron asked. Harry sighed again.

"I'm supposed to be a big, strong, famous wizard," he laughed in a self-deprecating way. "I supposedly defeated Voldemort. How come I can't deal with a few Muggles?"

The picture on the wall snickered again, and Harry, suddenly annoyed, yanked his wand out of his pocket and prepared to light the canvas on fire. He didn't get a chance, however, because Hermione had her wand out, too.

"Muffliato!" she cried, and Harry and Ron turned to her. "Silencing charm," she explained.

"Harry," Ron said, getting back on topic. "You're not pathetic, mate. We could never think that. You've done so much in the past few years alone. It doesn't matter what a few Muggles think."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry smiled gratefully. The trio sat in comfortable silence, not needing to talk anymore to know that they'd reached an understanding. Harry knew that he'd still be the subject of awkward questions and uncomfortable stares, but he also knew that Ron and Hermione didn't think any less of him, and that was enough. As long as his best friends were on his side, Harry felt that everything would turn out okay.

******HP******

Sirius, Molly, and Remus sat together in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, a silencing charm on the door as they talked. Each listened hard for any sound from the children who were scattered about the house, but the teens were being unusually quiet. Sirius had the feeling that they were intentionally trying to get out of the way of the adults.

"When are you planning on telling Harry that you're free, and that you're adopting him?" Molly asked softly. She and Sirius weren't the best of friends, and they probably never would be. It was a known fact that Molly considered Sirius to be an unfit guardian for Harry. However, even Mrs. Weasley couldn't find a reason not to be happy for Sirius and Harry. She trusted Dumbledore's judgment better than almost anyone else's, and if Dumbledore thought that Harry would be fine with Sirius, then she was going to accept the situation.

"I'm not sure," Sirius replied softly as he took a sip of his butterbeer. "I want to tell him right now, but I'm not sure he's ready to hear it yet."

"No," Remus agreed. "Wait until things have calmed down. He was very upset when he found out that the Order knows about the abuse he suffered, and I have to admit that we haven't been making it easy for him. He knows we're worried, and I think it bothers him."

"Of course we're worried!" Molly turned her wrath to Remus. "How could we not be?"

"Molly," Remus appeased, holding his hands up in surrender. "I don't mean to say that we're wrong to be worried. I just mean that it's making Harry uncomfortable."

"How so?" Sirius asked. Remus frowned.

"He's lived his whole life with no one knowing what's been going on, and now all of a sudden more than a dozen people know the truth. It can't be easy. He keeps catching us looking at him, and I know Snape threw him for a loop this morning. He wasn't expecting Snape's reaction at all."

"So you're saying we should just treat him like we always have been?" Molly asked. Remus nodded. "How can we do that, though? Remus, he's been through so much! They've been starving him; they've been beating him! No one should have to live through that."

"That's exactly why he needs to be treated like normal," Remus explained gently but firmly. "If we go treating him differently than usual just because we know now what his uncle's been doing to him, that's only going to cause him to feel more anxious and uncomfortable."

"I suppose you're right," Molly frowned. Sirius took another sip of his butterbeer.

"Maybe I should go ahead and tell him," he mused. The three adults shared a look. "I mean, if I wait, he'll think I was just keeping it from him, and I know he won't appreciate that."

Remus wasn't sure how he felt about it, so he turned to Molly. The woman's instincts were uncanny when children were involved. Sirius watched the red-head, too, as she thought about what he'd said. There was a long pause.

"Tell him," Molly agreed. "But wait until tonight, after everyone's stopped barging in and out of the house for the day. Wait until the others are in bed. It's not something that they should overhear. Harry needs to tell them for himself."

"Okay," Sirius agreed. Remus leaned back in his seat, anticipating Harry's response when he found out that his godfather had been cleared of all charges and had adopted him.

To be continued.

Thanks for the reviews, favs, follows. I'll try to update soon, but I really don't expect to be able to put up another chapter until Sunday at least. I hope everyone is having a good week so far.