Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Also, this fic is based on Aya Macchiato's story 'Harry Potter and the Gift of the Morrighan'. With permission.

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A Necessary Gift: A Harry Potter Story.

Chapter Five

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Harry did not, in fact, sleep well. The pins-and-needles feeling had slowly progressed to a sensation of daggers stabbing every inch of his skin. His pulse quickened and his whole body ached at every beat of his heart as blood pumped through his veins. The magic was in his blood – it was always in the blood – and Harry wondered just what changes would result from the Black magic now within him.

He knew he'd still be the son of James and Lily Potter, with Sirius becoming in effect a sort of third parent. The extent of the changes caused by the Adoption Ritual weren't entirely predictable, however; magical strength played a role, as did emotional attachment. Harry was self-aware enough to admit, if only to himself, that he'd projected a lot of what he felt about his godfather onto the Sirius he'd just met - and suspected Sirius of doing something similar in reverse. They hadn't known each other long enough to build a proper familial relationship. He hoped the fact that they did care about each other would make up for that lack.

After dozing fitfully for a few hours, and then spending several more staring at the ceiling as he gritted his teeth and tried to ignore the pain he was in, the ritual magic finally faded away. Harry was left exhausted and immediately fell into a deep and restful sleep, only waking at the sound of impatient knocking at his bedroom door.

"Oi! Orion! You awake yet?"

"I am now," Harry grumbled into his pillow.

"Well, let's see then!" Sirius slammed open the door and charged into the room.

"See what?" Harry asked, still sleep-addled.

"You, of course!" Sirius huffed. "Come on, get up!"

"Oh! Oh yeah!" Harry's brain finally caught up. He threw back the covers and bounded out of bed. "Ow, damn it," he said as he stubbed his toe on one of the bedposts, then turned to face Sirius. His godfather was looking at him with a rather strange expression on his face. "So?" Harry prompted, spreading out his arms.

"You look… you look like a Black," Sirius said slowly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Wasn't that the point of the whole thing?"

"No, well yes, but I mean… you look like a Black, like my son," Sirius said. His eyes were wide with amazement as he stared at Harry.

"Right, okay," Harry said, not quite getting why Sirius seemed so unsettled. "Could you conjure a mirror for me? I'd like to see for myself."

"Your magic not trained enough to handle it? Fine." Sirius shrugged, drawing his wand and wordlessly conjuring a silver framed looking-glass. "There you go."

Harry could only stare at his reflection, scarcely able to believe it was actually him. His glamours had worn off hours ago, but the features they'd been hiding had changed considerably. His black hair had smoothed out enough to no longer be called messy, his face was narrower, and his mouth seemed to naturally fall into a crooked smirk. His eyes had also changed considerably, with their heavy lids giving him a slightly sleepy expression – though that could be due to Harry having just woken up.

All things considered, Harry had to work hard to recognise the face reflected back at him. Traces of his old features remained around his jaw line and his nose looked the same as before - and Harry still had the same knobbly knees - but his resemblance to James Potter had faded considerably. A stranger might think they were distantly related, as most purebloods tended to be, but no more than that. Overall Harry judged his transformation into Orion Black to be complete.

He began pulling various faces in the mirror, trying to familiarise himself with his new appearance. The experience reminded him of drinking Polyjuice Potion - the sheer oddity of being in a stranger's body was the same, the only difference was that the adoption was irreversible. Harry would never revert back to how he looked before - the unfamiliar boy in the mirror was him and he'd just have to get used to it. He tilted his head up and adopted a haughty expression, imitating several snobbish purebloods he'd met over the years, then hastily dropped it when he realised just how conceited it made him appear. "Bloody hell, for a second there I looked like Malfoy!"

"What, you mean Draco?" Sirius looked confused. "Why do you say that? You're not blond."

"Well no, but I had the same smug, arrogant expression he always wore when we were at school," Harry said, sneering at his reflection in distaste.

"You mean you looked like any normal pureblood," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "If you want to show you're less stuck up than they are, try smiling - just a hint. In any case, you and Draco are cousins now, so it makes sense there'd be a slight resemblance between the two of you."

"Hmph, I still don't like it," Harry grumbled, before a thought struck him and he laughed in surprise. "Hey, Tonks is my cousin now! And so is Andromeda… weird."

Sirius leaned against the bedroom door, still looking fascinated by Harry's new appearance. "You mean Andy and little Nymphadora? Why would that be strange?"

"Well I knew both of them rather well," Harry explained. "Tonks even made me godfather to her son Teddy, and then after she died Andromeda and I raised him between the two of us."

"Dora had a son? She's just a kid herself!"

Harry shrugged. "Not really, I mean she's in her last year at Hogwarts at the moment. So she's of age."

"Still! A baby," Sirius sputtered, seeming to have difficulty wrapping his mind around the concept. "Who was the father?"

"Oh, you'll love this. Remus Lupin!"

"Moony?mHe's way too old for her!"

"Oh come on, Sirius, it's not that big of an age gap," Harry said. "And they only hooked up five years or so from now. Tonks was a fully-fledged Auror by that stage, she was old enough to make her own decisions. Of course, Remus took some convincing. He was fixated on that whole 'I'm a werewolf so I don't deserve anything good happening to me, ever' thing. Luckily Tonks managed to beat some sense into him, and they ended up getting married and having Teddy and everything. They really loved each other," Harry finished wistfully.

"What happened?" Sirius asked. At Harry's questioning look he elaborated. "You said she died… what happened to Remus?"

"He died, too," Harry said quietly. "They were both killed in the battle at Hogwarts, two and a bit years before I ended up here. Dolohov got Remus, while Tonks was killed by Bellatrix - her own bloody aunt."

"Merlin, that's…" Sirius sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I don't really know how I feel about that. In Azkaban I was in a cell near Bella, so I've heard enough of her insane and murderous ramblings to have a good idea of what she's capable of… but I never thought she'd kill family."

"Yeah, but Tonks was just a filthy half-blood, not worthy of being considered a Black," Harry said bitterly.

Sirius shook his head in denial. "Blacks don't kill other Blacks," he said stubbornly. "Not even… I mean, Andromeda was blasted off the family tree, but she's still… still one of us."

"Maybe this world's Bellatrix follows the accepted etiquette of not murdering family members, but the Bellatrix I know didn't," Harry said sharply. "She killed you, Sirius."

"What? No… She wouldn't… not even for her precious master…"

"Well she did!" Harry felt anger well up inside him as he thought back to that terrible night in the Department of Mysteries. "I was there!"

"I have to believe the Bellatrix I know isn't like that," Sirius said at last. "Things must be different here in my world."

Sirius was certainly different in this world, Harry realised, looking at the man before him. It wasn't just a question of gaining his freedom several years early or having had the help of Mind Healers in Saint Mungo's. Sirius wasn't the same man as Harry had known; he must have lived through things his counterpart never had, or had reacted differently to the same experiences. The Sirius who had fallen through the Veil of Death had been angry and bitter, openly scornful of his family and everything connected to them. He certainly wouldn't have willingly returned to his childhood home or ever considered defending his Death Eater relatives.

"When it comes to this world, you know more than I do," Harry said quietly. He wasn't prepared to say anything even remotely positive about Bellatrix Lestrange, but neither did he want to argue with Sirius.

"Right." Sirius gave him an awkward smile. "So, what do you think? Should we try to play matchmaker for old Moony and my ickle cousin?"

Harry smiled back, eager to encourage the change in subject. "Nah, let's see if they work it out on their own first. Though maybe we could introduce them to each other at some point… by the way, has Remus contacted you at all yet?"

"I got a letter from him three days ago," Sirius replied, his shoulders tensing up.

"Right, and?"

"And I haven't answered it yet. I don't know what to say to him. He apologised for thinking I was guilty, but how can I say 'that's all right, I forgive you for leaving me to rot in Azkaban for nine years without a trial,' and mean it?"

"I don't know, Sirius," Harry said uncertainly. "Didn't you think he was the traitor at one point?"

"Yes I did and I heartily regret it," Sirius said. "It was stupid of me and I feel terrible that I lost faith in a friend. Given my own mistake I suppose I should forgive Remus for thinking I was the traitor, and honestly I think I have."

"You have?" Harry was rather confused as to where Sirius was going with all this.

"Yes, I forgive him for thinking I could've betrayed Lily and James," Sirius confirmed, before his expression hardened. "What I can't forgive is how he acted after I was thrown in Azkaban. In his letter he wrote that he left all wizarding society and spent the last decade living with his fellow werewolves. He said it was too difficult for him to carry on surrounded by the memories of James and all the rest of us. Difficult!"

"Well, that's sort of understandable, isn't it?"

Sirius scowled. "Really, you think so? You don't think he was being a coward, running away from the problems he didn't want to face? Because I do."

"Aren't you being a bit hard on him?"

"He abandoned us!" Sirius snapped, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "He left me to rot without even trying to visit me or push for a trial! He left Harry to be brought up by the bloody Dursleys! He should've taken Harry in himself, made sure he was safe, but no! He ran away and Harry died!"

Harry was left speechless, with Sirius' harsh breathing the only sound in the tense silence.

"Harry died," Sirius said again, as if imploring him to understand. "In a stupid, pointless muggle accident. If Remus had just… had just…"

"Even if Remus had tried to take your Harry in, he wouldn't have been allowed," Harry said gently. "No one would have let the Boy-Who-Lived be brought up by a werewolf - Dumbledore least of all. He wanted Harry at the Dursleys, where the blood wards would protect him against any magical attacks. No matter what Remus had done I don't think he would've been able to change Dumbledore's mind. And who knows? Without that blood protection your Harry might have died much sooner, murdered by Voldemort's supporters."

"I… I know what you're saying makes sense, but… I can't…" Sirius shook his head helplessly. "I just can't forgive him."

Harry didn't give up. "If things went the same way as in my world, then it was Dumbledore who dumped the other Harry on the Dursley's doorstep. Blame my counterpart's death on him. Or don't blame anyone at all. Just accept that it was an accident that no one except a Seer could've predicted."

"I – I suppose…"

"Look," Harry said bluntly. "I know this isn't really my business. I've never even met this world's Remus. It's your choice whether or not to forgive him. I just think being friends with Remus will help make you happy, and I want you to be. Happy, I mean."

"I'll think about it," Sirius said finally. "I'm not going to cut him out of my life completely. I'm just not sure we'll be able to return to the close friendship we once had. I need to be able to trust him, and I don't think I can right now."

"Fair enough," Harry said. "Are you still on board with the whole subtle matchmaking plan, though?" he added hopefully.

Sirius shrugged and smiled. "Yeah, sure. Though I still say it's strange to think of Nymphadora in a relationship. Last time I saw her she was just eight years old. Speaking of which, I really should get back in touch with Andromeda and the rest of the family."

"Hey, now that you're Head of the House of Black again you can reinstate them into the Family, can't you?"

"Erm, no I'm not."

"Not what?"

"I'm not the Head of the Family," Sirius explained as if to a particularly slow child.

"Oh," Harry said. "Why not?"

"Because dear old grandpa Arcturus is currently our Paterfamilias, and even if he kicks the bucket I'm unlikely to inherit the title," Sirius clarified. "I was never officially disowned, but I don't think anyone would want me and my supposed Blood-Traitor ways setting an example for future generations."

"Wait, you have a grandfather?" Harry didn't know why he felt so wrong-footed by that piece of information. "And he's alive?"

Sirius nodded patiently. "Yes."

"Huh, I never expected that," Harry said. "Though I suppose I should have. I can't remember when all the Blacks died in my world, but in any case things could be very different here."

"Yup," Sirius agreed. "You know, you should be careful making assumptions based on what you knew before. It might get you in trouble one day."

"Trouble always finds me, one way or another," Harry said with a shrug. "But yeah, I'll keep it in mind."

"You do that," Sirius said. "Now, breakfast!"

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Harry found his new appearance very disconcerting. It hadn't taken him long to grow used to physically being ten years old again since his brain seemed to remember what it had been like the first time, making it actually quite easy to walk around in a young Harry Potter's body. Now, however, he felt altogether strange. His legs were slightly longer, his hips narrower, his shoulders a little bit broader, and even his feet seemed a different shape from what they were before. All of which meant that not only did none of his clothes fit him properly, but he also felt ungainly and off-balance. Harry tripped when simply walking across his bedroom floor, and staircases had turned into a navigational challenge. When making his way down to the kitchen for breakfast, he managed to miss one of the steps and ended up falling headfirst down the whole flight of stairs.

"Ouch! Bloody hell that hurt!" Harry scowled up at the ceiling as he lay sprawled out on the hard wooden floor of the entrance hall.

"You know, I feel as if I should be scolding you for your language," Sirius remarked.

"How about offering a little sympathy for my pain instead?" Harry struggled to stand while rubbing his bruised elbow.

"What in Merlin's name are you two doing?" The portrait of Mrs Black peered down at Harry from her frame on the wall. "What was that awful racket?"

"That was your grandson being defeated by a particularly tricky staircase," Sirius cheerfully informed her.

"Again, where's the sympathy?" Harry complained.

"Such rowdy behaviour is unseemly and unbecoming of a Black," Mrs Black told Harry. "A Black must always be poised and graceful, reflecting our exalted Heritage and refined breeding…"

"Yes yes," Sirius interrupted her. "I've heard it all before, but my son can act however he wants in his own home and most especially before breakfast."

"Well! Of all the ungrateful…" Mrs Black began indignantly. Sirius rolled his eyes, grabbed Harry by the arm, and hurried them both off down to the kitchen.

Kreacher had apparently already woken up, since a fire was burning in the huge hearth and tea and toast were set out on the table. After almost tripping two more times over thin air, Harry collapsed into a chair with a sigh of relief.

"I think I've finally discovered why Tonks is always so clumsy," he said.

Sirius laughed and helped himself to a slice of bread while summoning the butter dish from one of the kitchen cupboards. "She still hasn't outgrown that then? I remember Andromeda despairing over the number of times she had to cart Dora off to Saint Mungo's."

"Well it makes sense to me now," Harry said, trying to pour himself a cup of tea only to spill most of it all over the table. He sighed. "Changing shape is really disorienting. Case in point, my hand to eye coordination is close to non-existent."

Sirius eyed him in some concern. "I was going to suggest we go flying today, but maybe we should wait a bit."

"I'll need to get used to the changes sooner or later," Harry said, ineffectually trying to mop up the spilt tea with his napkin. "A morning of flying sound great. Then again... it would be really embarrassing if I fell off my broom, so maybe I'll give it a miss just this once."

"I take it back, I don't think there's any point in waiting. After all, when else will I get the chance to out fly the youngest Hogwarts Seeker in a century," Sirius said with a teasing smile.

"Hmm, I wonder if I'll manage to get onto the house team again?" Harry drew his wand and muttered a cleaning spell at the mess in front of him. Inexplicably, the pool of spilt tea grew even larger. "Damn it, I hate being a child again. My magic's gone all wonky."

"Actually, that might be because of the adoption ritual," Sirius said,

Harry whipped his head up to stare at him. "What?" he demanded.

"Well, it's called a magical adoption for a reason." Sirius looked surprised Harry hadn't already realised that. "It doesn't just affect your outward appearance, you know. It changes your blood, and since magic is in your blood it gradually changes that as well. You're a Black now; by blood and magic as well as by name."

"Huh," was all Harry said as he considered that. "Do you think it'll change much? Change my spell-casting, I mean."

Sirius spread his hands in a 'who knows' gesture. "It's impossible to really tell just yet, since it'll take a while for your magic to begin to settle. I suppose in time you might be able to cast some spells you weren't able to before, I don't know. Considering that you used to be a half-blood, you'll probably find some magic easier to control now."

"E-excuse me?" Harry spluttered.

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't exactly be considered a Pureblood," Sirius said thoughtfully. "Lily is still a part of you - that'll never change. But now, instead of just being the son of a muggleborn and a Pureblood, you've got two Purebloods as well as your mum giving you their blood and magic. So, I'd say you're almost a Pureblood. You'll probably have the magic of one, anyway."

"There! Right there, that's what I don't understand!" Harry jabbed an accusing finger at Sirius. "What does it matter who my parents were? I thought you didn't buy into that rubbish about Pureblood superiority."

Sirius stared at him in obvious surprise. "I don't! I don't think Purebloods are superior, but I do know they're different. I mean, that's just a fact of life."

Harry crossed his arms stubbornly. "Well it's not one I've ever heard of before."

"Really? Well, I don't see why the rules of magical inheritance would be any different in your world."

"What're you talking about?" Harry asked suspiciously. "How can you think muggleborns aren't as good at magic as Purebloods? I mean, everyone says my Mum was a brilliant witch and one of my best friends was the best at magic in our year, and both of them were muggleborn!"

"Hang on! I'm not saying Purebloods are better or anything like that," Sirius defended himself. He set down his cutlery down on the table and appeared to consider the best way to explain. "Look, all wizards and witches have magic. It's innate, a part of us, right?"

"Right."

"Well, wizard-born children inherit their magic from their parents, agreed?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in Purebloods that magical ability has had generations to be developed and refined in very specific ways," Sirius said. "Parents generally encourage their children in magic that they themselves are good at and slowly over the years that leads to certain bloodlines having certain talents."

"Like Parseltongue?" Harry's thoughts wandered to the descendants of Salazar Slytherin.

"Exactly," Sirius agreed. "Or the ability to be a Seer or a Metamorphmagus or whatever. Those sorts of obvious talents are quite rare though. Mostly families just have an aptitude for Charms or Warding or something like that. The Potters were always good at Transfiguration if I remember correctly."

"I was mostly useless at Transfiguration," Harry said, remembering his rather pathetic attempts to change hedgehogs into pincushions and the like. He'd never even come close to transfiguring a desk into a pig and back again, as Professor McGonagall had done at the start of his first lesson. "My best subject has always been Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Sirius looked unsurprised. "Right. That makes sense, 'cos your mum was muggleborn. Muggleborns don't inherit their magic. It just... appears. I have no idea how, but the point is their magic hasn't been shaped over long centuries. It's… untamed, I suppose you could say. Their magic is just as good for, say, Charms as it is for Defence. That means that a muggleborn's ability depends purely on their hard work and raw power, not their magical affinity. Lily was one of the best in our class at Charms and Potions, but that had nothing to do with any inherited talent."

"All right," Harry said slowly, not finding anything to disagree with. "But how does that affect me?"

"Well, you could either have inherited the Potter magic, which is suited to Transfiguration, or your mum's wilder magic. It's not a surprise that you ended up with unaffiliated magic - throwing untamed power into the mix tends to derail the ordered rules of magical inheritances. That's one of the reasons Purebloods dislike muggleborns marrying into their families - any children they have tend to also have unaffiliated magic, meaning old family talents are lost."

"Well I definitely didn't inherit any talent at Transfiguration from James," Harry admitted. "But Tonks is a metamorphmagus and she's a half-blood. So is Voldemort, actually, and he's a Parselmouth like all the other descendants of Slytherin."

Sirius shrugged his shoulders. "There are exceptions, of course, but both those examples actually illustrate another side of the whole magical inheritance thing. You said Voldemort's dad was a muggle, right?"

"Yep."

"I can still hardly believe that, you know. All those purebloods grovelling before him… wonder what they'd think if they found out he was the bastard child of a muggle and a near-squib!" Sirius smirked to himself, no doubt picturing the scene.

"They'd have a fit and start throwing around unforgivable curses," Harry said with certainty, having personally experienced Bellatrix' reaction.

Sirius laughed. "Probably! But anyway, muggles don't have any magic at all, so obviously Voldemort must have inherited his mother's affiliated magic. Although it could have just as easily gone the other way, with Voldemort being born a muggle."

That was a very odd thought, but didn't answer all of Harry's questions. "What about Tonks?" he asked.

"It's true that usually the magic of muggleborns overpowers pureblood affinities, but it can also sort of… purify magical lines," Sirius said, seeming to pick his words carefully. "Mind you, this is my own theory and not something most purebloods agree with… but well, everyone knows that Metamorphmagi were quite common in our bloodline centuries ago, but at some point disappeared. The talent must've still been carried on in the blood though, so when Andromeda married Ted Tonks, his wild magic magic created enough chaos that somewhere in the mix the lost affinity popped back up."

"I can see why that theory wouldn't be popular," Harry said with a grin. "Though one question… if two purebloods from different families marry, surely that would also lead to affinities being lost? Or is it possible to have several magical talents in one family?"

"No you're right, it's rare to have more than one," Sirius said. "But the main branch of any family is very careful to avoid their affinities being lost."

"How?"

"By doing everything possible to strengthen the connection the children have with the family bloodline."

Harry must have looked confused by this since Sirius quickly elaborated. "For example by making sure they're born in the family manor, or only casting certain spells during pregnancy," he said. "But the main thing is giving the children the family name. Names are really important in the wizarding world, as I'm sure you're aware. Take that Malfoy boy for example. His mother's a Black, but his father is a Malfoy, as is he. His magical affinity is almost certainly whatever his father's is. If he'd been given his mother's name at birth his magic would have developed quite differently."

"So is that why the adoption ritual specifically mentioned you giving me your name?"

Sirius nodded. "Yeah. You carrying my name strengthens your connection to me and to the House of Black, making it more likely that your magic will have the same affinity as other Blacks. That's one of the reasons why purebloods tend to also take their father's name as their own. Harry James Potter, that's obvious, and Orion Alphard Black after my middle name and my father's first name. Even traditions like naming children after star constellations or only using names starting with a certain letter, helps link generations together."

"That sounds… rather unbelievable," Harry said slowly.

"That's magic for you, Orion," Sirius said, making Harry smile at the name. "It's bizarre and often unpredictable. It takes a very special type of mind to delve deeply into advanced magic. It's not a coincidence that the greatest witches and wizards tend to also be the craziest."

"Like Dumbledore."

"Right. And Voldemort wasn't the sanest either."

"Hah, true enough!" Harry snorted, thinking of all his encounters with the Dark Lord. Then his mind wandered back to what Sirius had told him. "So… what magical affinity does the Black bloodline have?"

"Well, we Blacks are brilliant at everything, of course," Sirius said with an arrogant expression, but then he grinned and shook his head. "Actually, our magic tends to be good at offensive spells. Basic stuff like casting a stunning spell can be done by almost anyone. More advanced things though, such as permanently cursing an object or attacking several targets at once, is much harder. Only very powerful wizards or ones with a specific affinity would be capable of it."

Harry suddenly found himself warming up to the idea of magical inheritances. "I remember watching Dumbledore and Voldemort fight - they cast countless curses and caused a huge amount of damage. It was bloody amazing magic."

He wondered if he would be capable of similar magic now that he was a Black. When he asked Sirius, the answer he got was that it depended on whether he had gained the Black affinity or not. Black blood and the Black name might be enough to overpower Lily's magical influence but it would be difficult to tell until Harry's magic had matured a bit.

Harry again grew wary of Sirius' beliefs, thinking that it sounded as if the man believed purebloods were better than muggleborns.

"No I don't," Sirius insisted when Harry raised the question. "Muggleborns are just different, as I've said before. I mean, having a specific talent is great if you're actually interested in that branch of magic, since you can pick up spells faster and cast them more powerfully. The problem with that is if, for instance, you have a magical affinity in Charms, then you'll probably never be an expert in Transfiguration no matter how hard you try. Your magic simply wouldn't be formed for that branch of magic. Muggleborns don't have that problem - they're potentially equally good at everything. It depends what you think is more useful - being brilliant at one thing, or good at lots of things."

Harry wasn't sure he agreed with what Sirius was saying. "Hermione – my friend who's a muggleborn – was brilliant at everything."

"Was she really?"

"Yes! She saved my life countless of times with her knowledge and magic."

Sirius gave a shrug. "Well, she sounds like a powerful witch then. If you've got enough power, you can cast spells others would find beyond them no matter what their heritage. A person's magical affinity doesn't determine their magical strength."

"So you agree that a muggelborn can be just as powerful as a pureblood?" Harry checked, wanting to be clear on that point.

"Oh, definitely," Sirius said firmly. "The only thing you can say for certain about the ability of muggleborns is that they never have magical talents. A muggleborn will never speak Parseltongue, or be a Seer, or a Metamorphmagus."

"Really?" Harry tried to think of a counter-example but came up blank.

"I think it comes down to the difference between magic with and without a wand," Sirius said. "The first can be cast by just about anyone, so long as they have enough magic to power the spell. That's why subjects such as Charms, Defence and all that are the main ones taught at Hogwarts – they can be learnt by all students. With wandless magic it's different – it needs to be shaped and channelled within your very blood. Take the Animagus transformation – I don't need a wand or incantation to change into Padfoot..."

The conversation gradually trailed off, with both wizards content to finish their breakfast and get on with their day. Harry couldn't stop thinking about everything Sirius had said, however; in fact he was so distracted that he narrowly escaped falling out a window after once again tripping over his own feet. He'd more or less accepted that Sirius was right about magical affinities – the older man had grown up in the wizarding world, after all, and had never before shown any sign of spouting pureblood ideology. Harry trusted that he was telling the truth and, as hard as it was to believe at first, the more he thought about it the more the rules of inheritance made sense.

Harry would never describe himself as great at magic. His grasp on theory was sketchy and it had often taken him a while to get the hang of new spells at school. He learnt best under pressure; he'd had a huge incentive to cast a Patronus and master the summoning charm, and he'd always found it easy to cast powerful spells in the middle of a fight. Defence was his best subject, but Harry felt that was due to his interest in it, not because of any inborn magical skill – which fit with Sirius' description of unaffiliated magic.

The only magical talent he'd had was Parseltongue, which had disappeared along with the Horcrux in his head. But he still remembered how easy and instinctive it had been to speak to snakes, and wondered if perhaps he'd experience something similar with offensive magic once the blood adoption was complete.

Although he did wonder why he'd never heard of the rules of magical inheritance before. He could only think that either this new world was different from his old one or it just hadn't been talked about much – which, considering that he'd been raised in the muggle world and had never mixed much with pureblood families, was quite likely. It was true that he'd spent a lot of time with the Weasleys, but they were far from typical purebloods. They celebrated Christmas rather than Yule, and Mr Weasley - while a generous and kind-hearted man - wasn't exactly normal, what with his collection of muggle batteries and his flying Ford Anglia.

Really, he had only one question left. "Are there any books about all this?" Harry asked the next day while he and Sirius took a break from rearranging their bedrooms. Kreacher finally seemed ready to let Harry move up to the family wing and didn't cause any trouble when Sirius cleared out his mother's old room. The elf had even deigned to serve them tea in the upstairs drawing room, where the two wizards were relaxing in front of the fire.

"Yes, but I'm not sure why you'd bother reading them," Sirius said, putting his feet up on the drawing room table and leaning back in his chair. "They're either in-depth discussions of magical theory or long lists of generations of pureblood families, and the authors expect their readers to already have a basic understanding of how it all works."

"I'll give that idea a miss then," Harry said and then sighed. "I just hate how even after years of being at Hogwarts and spending time amongst wizards, there are still things I don't know about the magical world. I mean, sure, I know my experiences weren't typical, seeing as I spent most of my time struggling just to stay alive... but even so, no one ever really teaches muggle-raised students anything about wizarding culture. We're just supposed to pick it up somehow, which I can't help but feel is unfair."

"Yes, I can imagine it must be difficult," Sirius said, leaning forwards to pour himself a second cup of tea and help himself to a biscuit. "That's another difference between muggleborns and purebloods though, and – I find anyway – a more important one than magical ability. It's cultural understanding that really matters. I mean, if you want to fit into a foreign country, you need to know the language and the manners and the belief system of the people living in it, right?"

"Right." Harry couldn't argue with that. It had taken him a long time to start feeling at home when he was living in France, and even after a year there he was still very much an outsider.

"Well, the wizarding world is a completely separate country from the muggle world," Sirius said, dunking his biscuit into his tea. "The two just happen to share some of the same geography… and often not even that."

That was something Harry knew from his old world. Hogsmeade might be the only purely wizarding village, but there were magic-only areas in most big cities and towns where the only non-magical people were Squibs or muggle family members. Even when wizards and witches lived right next to Muggles, it didn't mean they ever interacted with them. They could apparate directly to whatever magical destination they had in mind without ever stepping outside their front door.

Honestly, for the average wizard the Muggle World was as relevant to their day to day lives as, say, Australia. Meaning, not very. It was no wonder wizards were so utterly inept when dealing with anything muggle.

Sirius warmed to the subject. "What muggleborns often take a while to realise is that we wizards have our own history, our own politics, and our own way of life. Most magical countries really have nothing in common with their muggle counterparts. So why should we be judged by muggle standards?"

"We learnt a bit about that in History of Magic," Harry said. "The few times any of us managed to actually stay awake anyway." He knew Magical Russia was still ruled by a Tzar and he remembered Binns mentioning how Germany was just a rabble of independent regions that were only briefly united under Gindlewald.

Sirius gasped in mock surprise. "So you managed to learn something from Binns? I thought that was close to impossible."

Harry grinned. "Well, when you've got Hermione Granger nagging you to study and lending you her notes, then it's almost impossible not to learn something."

"So smart as well as powerful then?"

"Yep, and she was a really great friend to me over the years. She always stuck by me, no matter what danger I managed to drag us into," Harry said fondly, remembering all the times Hermione had helped him out of a sticky situation.

"Friends like that are good to have," Sirius said, his eyes becoming distant and haunted. Harry knew he was thinking of Pettigrew and desperately searched for something to take his mind off the rat's betrayal.

"So you think cultural knowledge is important?" he blurted out.

Sirius shook off his dark thoughts and exerted himself to answer. He talked about how ever since the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy in seventeenth century, the wizarding and muggle worlds had grown apart. He pointed out that Muggle beliefs regarding science and human rights were concepts that had gradually developed in response to specific historical events, but that wizards had had their own set of experiences and challenges to deal with. Wizarding society had developed differently as a result and what worked in one world wouldn't necessarily be appropriate in the other. The laws of physics were understandably less important when a flick of a wand could defy gravity, and equal rights held a very different meaning with the addition of magical beings.

"I agree with what you're saying," Harry said when Sirius paused to draw breath. "Though I have to admit I've never given it much thought before."

Sirius looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear it, but unfortunately a lot of muggle-raised children don't agree," he said. "Superficially they can look at our magical society and think the wizarding world is just what the muggle one was back in the middle ages, and that we need to 'catch up'. That's not true though, we have developed since then, just not along the same lines as the muggles have. We've invented new spells and voted in new laws and developed new ideas. Even things like music and fashion vary greatly. Admittedly, not all the changes have been good ones, but the point remains that we are changing. "

Harry had rarely seen Sirius so passionate about something. "You seem to feel quite strongly about all this…"

"I suppose I do," Sirius admitted. "It's created a lot of problems. I wouldn't go so far as to say it's the cause of prejudice against muggleborns, but it definitely contributes to it. No one likes outsiders coming in and telling you that you're doing everything all wrong, and that you've got to change your whole society."

Harry thought back to the annoyed reactions of the Hogwarts students towards Hermione's SPEW campaign, and decided Sirius had a point. House Elves deserved better treatment, but that really hadn't been the right way to go about giving it to them. If changes were to be made to wizarding society, it had to come from within.

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A/N Please review and let me know what you think! The ideas of magical inheritances in this chapter are mine and (I think) haven't been done before, so I'd love to know whether I've managed to make it convincing.

As for the last bit of the chapter - I think people everywhere are susceptible to the idea of 'foreigners coming into our country, stealing our jobs and ruining out culture' etc. And while criticising/joking about your own country is fine, when outsiders say the exact same thing it is often seen as an insult. With the huge divide between the muggle and magical worlds, I imagine this would be a big problem and lead to a lot of ill-feeling between purebloods and muggleborns.