A/N: I apologize for the length of this chapter. It just kept growing and I didn't want to stop. The last thousand words or so are more info-dump than anything. If it's confusing, I apologize, I just kept thinking of some new fact, or pulling a fact or what have you. I think I've managed to explain a lot about those words I've been mentioning, Oidhre, teaglach, tuath, ceannir, cenedl, rialoir, and so forth. I do plan to come back to them through out the story, to introduce concepts and to show some of it in action.

I'm thinking it'll be two, possibly three chapters to get to Hogwarts. I've got the next two chapters started, but not finished. After that, it's a bit of a toss-up. I'll be using the book Order of the Phoenix for inspiration up until Christmas. By that, I mean that I will expand a few scenes, but mostly use specific events to spin off my own.

As always, I welcome questions. Also, if you've noticed my typos, it's because I don't actually have a beta and sometimes I miss things.


The party was going well, Harry's friends mixing together with few hiccups, and the food was as good as the maître de's attitude had implied. Harry had been debating music theory with Chris when he saw Remus and Tonks both jerk slightly, exchange concerned glances, and hurry out of the room.

A loud bang from where Bill had yanked Fred's chair out from under him distracted Harry. "I suggest," Bill said mildly, "that you put that away before I make you drink it, Fred."

"Aw Bill," George said, "It wouldn't have hurt anyone."

"Probably not," Bill agreed as he helped Fred up, "but I was under the impression that you both swore not to prank anyone today. We want Harry's friends to think we're civilized, after all."

Harry glanced at Chris who raised his eyebrows, "Fred and George are pranksters," Harry said quietly. "They invent a lot of things too. I forgot to warn you."

Chris chuckled, "It's all right. At least they haven't pranked us yet. Lisa has a thing about that."

"Good thing or bad thing?" Harry asked.

"A revenge thing," Chris said.

Remus and Tonks returned then, looking worried. "Mrs. Miller," Tonks said, "may I speak with you?"

"Harry, Bill," Remus said, "May I have a word?"

They gathered in a corner and Remus sighed. "What's going on?" Bill asked.

"Dementors were in Little Whinging today. The guard assigned to the Dursleys was Fletcher, and he's been Kissed."

Harry gripped Remus's arm, feeling dizzy for a moment.

"What's the plan?" Bill asked as he rested a hand on Harry's back. It felt like a brand.

"We're going to get Harry's things from the hotel and go to headquarters now," Remus said. "Dumbledore knows you're in London and insists. Sirius and I are agreed because while we doubt that it was his work, and it is possible they have simply gone rogue, it doesn't feel that way."

"All right," Harry said with a nod, "what do I tell my friends?"

"We have a cover," Remus said, "just go along with it." He stepped over to the table where the others were trying to overhear what was going on. "I'm sorry," Remus said, "but we have to cut things short today."

"What's going on?" Ron asked.

"Molly's figured out we snuck you guys out for the afternoon and is threatening Padfoot if we don't get back now," Remus said. "We think it's best for Harry to come tonight instead of tomorrow as planned."

"Mum likes Harry, she'll probably keep the lecture short," Bill added.

"But that's not fair," Mal said, "Harry wasn't supposed to leave until tomorrow."

"It's all right," Harry said as he toyed with his leather cuff. "I mean, I'm not happy about it, but Mrs. Weasley is one of those ladies that you don't reason with, you just get out of her way." He smiled a little, "You guys did promise to sing for me before the party was over."

Lisa nodded, gesturing, "We can do that."

HP NOB HP NOB HP

After the song, Bill and Tonks steered the other Weasleys and Hermione from the room with Harry's presents. Remus quietly explained to Harry that while the twins would apparate themselves, Bill and Tonks would side-along Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. Remus took Harry back with his friends to get Harry's bag after the song was over, prompting more goodbyes before Remus steered him out of the hotel and heading for the underground. "We'll apparate in a moment," Remus said.

"Okay," Harry said.

They turned down a quiet side street, then into an alley. "Have you ever apparated before?" Remus asked.

"No," Harry said.

"Then this will be a strange experience. I suggest you take a deep breath, stand close and close your eyes," Remus said. Harry nodded and eased closer to Remus, trying not to stiffen when Remus wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders. "Here we go," Remus said.

The mildest description Harry could think of was that he felt as if he'd been squeezed through a tube, but he shook that feeling off by looking around. The neighborhood must have been nice at one point, but that had been many years ago. The buildings looked old and a touch rundown in the streetlights.

"Everything go all right?" Someone asked.

Harry jumped, bumping Remus, as a tall black man stepped out of the shadows across from them. "Well enough," Remus said. "What is written on the Book of Graymere in the Black Library?"

"Don't feed the werewolf, he'll never go away," the man said. "What really happened to Molly's last batch of biscuits?"

"I gave them to Harry to make up for holding off his birthday gifts," Remus said, "Sirius covered by claiming that Snape stole them."

The man chuckled, "Indeed, I saw you putting them in the box. This is Harry Potter then."

"Yes," Harry said.

"Harry, this is Kingsley Shacklebolt." Remus said.

"Tonks's partner?" Harry asked, he'd heard stories from Tonks about her partner, but he hadn't pictured someone that tall.

"I am," Kingsley said. "Dumbledore sent me to give you this, Mister Potter." He held out a piece of paper. "I like your hair by the way, much different from your photos last year."

"Thank you," Harry said as he accepted the paper. "A friend of mine, his mom insisted I see a stylist."

"Your stylist has good taste," Kingsley nodded. "Read the paper and let's get inside. Molly wants to make sure you're both okay. Bill also said to tell you there was a mild mishap with the white box."

Harry stared at the piece of paper as Remus asked tiredly, "How mild a mishap?"

The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number 12 Grimmauld Place.

Harry glanced at Remus who nodded across the street. Harry stared. There was an extra door in the front of the row of houses, black, with a silver shape glinting in the streetlight. "What?" He asked.

"Magic," Remus said. "We need to go inside, be quiet in the front hall please. There's a portrait on the wall that screams like a banshee if we disturb her, she's quite mad and we can't get her down. Sirius says it's probably a permanent sticking charm."

"Right," Harry said. He followed Remus across the road and up to the door, whose knocker was shaped like a snake. He shuddered a little as Remus opened the door and stepped inside, feeling something like cold water trail over him as he crossed the threshold.

"The kitchen," Kingsley said softly.

The house, what Harry could see of it, seemed to be dark and dingy, with a feeling of abandonment. Remus led the way down a long hallway, past a set of black velvet curtains that looked moth-eaten and that fluttered a little as they passed.

The kitchen was brighter than the hallway, lit by candles, a fireplace, and floating globes that that managed to chase away most of the shadows. Bill Weasley was standing, shame faced beside Mrs. Weasley, and Sirius was talking in a low voice to Dumbledore.

"Bill," Remus said.

"I'm sorry," Bill said, "I didn't mean to drop the box."

"It's all right," Remus said, "accidents are allowed to happen. Mrs. Weasley, perhaps you would be willing consider assisting in replacing the contents of the box? It was meant to be something for Harry."

"Perhaps," Molly said, blinking in surprise.

"Harry," Sirius said, catching Harry's attention.

"Hi," Harry said, feeling suddenly shy.

"Good trip?" Sirius asked.

"Not that bad," Harry said. It was amazing, he'd written Sirius almost daily for the past month and now he couldn't think of anything to say. Now, face to face with his godfather, he was tongue tied, and from the way Sirius was staring, he was the same way.

"I like your hair," Sirius said.

"Thanks," Harry said blushing, "a friend recommended it." He swallowed and glanced at Dumbledore, who was watching him impassively, "Hullo, Professor."

"Harry," Dumbledore said. "Did you have a good weekend?"

Harry grinned, "Yes I did, Professor. My friends were competing in a national competition and they won their division. It was incredible. I've never heard so many different singing styles."

"I do wish you had let me know you were going," Dumbledore said.

Harry nodded, forcing his grin away. "Remus told me about Mister Fletcher. I am sorry that it happened, but I don't understand. I thought the Ministry controlled the Dementors."

"They claim that they do," Dumbledore said, "but there are rogues out and about. The ministry will, no doubt, blame the attack on an undetected rogue. It is strange that they sought out the only wizard in the area. Dementors are not usually that discriminating when they attack."

Harry nodded, remembering his own encounters with the beings, "You don't have to tell me that." He toyed with his wrist cuff nervously, "Remus and the Dursleys both said I could go, and Remus planned things out so that I wouldn't be unprotected at the hotel."

"Then I wish Remus would have included the Order in his plans," Dumbledore said.

Remus cleared his throat, "Yes well, I know that you say you trust everyone in the Order, but we've been infiltrated before. I thought an off-duty Auror and the Weasleys' older brother would be an unremarkable pair to appear in public, particularly at the party today. Tonks picks up guard work on her off days already."

"I understand your thinking, but if we had known that Harry was not at the Dursleys, Mundungus would never have been at the Dursleys either." Dumbledore said.

"There's an old Muggle saying," Harry said quietly, "'loose lips sink ships'. It means that things get out because people talk about it. That's the thing about secrets, people talk, even when they think they're not being overheard, and things get out. I think Remus and Sirius had the right of it. The fewer people who knew I left Little Whinging this weekend, the fewer people who would talk about it in an unwise location. Perhaps they should have told you, Professor, seeing as you're the one who decided I needed guards this summer, but the Order? Begging your pardon sir, but I spend ten months of the year on display at Hogwarts, gossiped about, targeted. Last year, I couldn't say anything anywhere without seeing it repeated and most likely misquoted, in the Daily Prophet. I think asking for two months where my movements and words are not observed and discussed by complete strangers, particularly after how last year ended, is too much to ask."

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley said.

"Harry's right," Sirius said. "I've been saying it all summer, even is none of you would listen to me. Harry deserves to know things that will affect his life, because it's his life."

"He's just a boy," Mrs. Weasley said.

"He's fifteen," Sirius replied, "by wizarding law, he's the Oidhre, and that means there's a lot he needs to know." He drew himself up, "Madame Weasley, while I am grateful for the care you provided Harry while I could not, allow me to remind you that my tolerance is not without limit. I suggest you think again about how you act in my house." He turned to Dumbledore, "I suggest you consider the same warning to your Potions Professor. I have been tolerant for the sake of our shared cause, but though you hold the Secret to number twelve, I hold the wards. It would be unfortunate for the Professor to find his secondary escape route is no longer accessible, and it would be the result of his own choices."

"Remind him that the punishment for attempted murder is 10 years," Remus said. "Sirius has severed time for what he did."

"I will speak to Severus," Dumbledore said.

"Thank you," Sirius said, he smiled tentatively at Harry, "I know Remus and I keep promising later, but I think it's late enough now to answer a few of your questions don't you?"

Harry smiled back, "Yes, please."

"I need to speak with Molly," Remus said, "but I'm sure Hermione will be grateful for library access."

"Of course," Sirius said. "Come on Harry; let's go let Hermione into the library."

"I'm surprised you got her out of a library," Harry said as he followed Sirius back into the hall.

Sirius gestured for Harry to be quiet and glared at the curtains before heading up a set of stairs Harry hadn't noticed earlier. They were passing the first story when Ron and Hermione appeared, "Hey mate," Ron said, "everything all right?"

Harry grinned, "Just fine. Sirius and I were just going to the library."

"You're both welcome to come," Sirius said.

"Let me get my notes," Hermione said eagerly, all but running back down the hall and inside one of the rooms.

"Me too," Ron said. He gave Harry a quick grin, "Sirius is paying us to help organize the library, he said we needed pocket money for Hogwarts and he needed the books sorted."

Harry nodded a little, "Good for you, Ron."

"May I come to?" Ginny asked, sticking her head out of the room that Hermione had entered.

"Why not," Sirius said. "I have to justify throwing galleons at the four of you somehow."

Harry snorted, but followed when Sirius continued up stairs. They reached another landing and Harry frowned, staring up, "How big is this place?"

"A lot bigger than it looks," Sirius said, "it was built following World War II by an old construction enchanter."

Harry eyed Sirius, "If you're telling me it's a time machine, I'm out of here."

Sirius stared at him, "What?"

Harry shook his head with a little smile, "One of my Muggle friends, Mallory, we call her Mal, her family has been obsessed with Doctor Who for years. They bought a VCR just to record the show. We watched the all of their tapes last Thursday to distract them from the finals. Doctor Who was a show about a funny man with a blue box who traveled through time and space. His box was a time machine and it was bigger on the inside."

"Huh," Sirius said.

"No worries," Harry said, "It was just a joke. You promised me some answers though."

"Right," Sirius said, "the library's in here." He pushed open a set of doors to reveal a room that rivaled the Hogwarts library in size.

"Wow," Harry said as he followed Sirius inside. "How did they build this?"

"With magic," Ginny said, following him in with a smile. "Enchanters use runes to control the size inside and outside of each individual room. The house is built with a series of broom cupboards and loft spaces, and the Enchanter brings in the rooms and fits them into the spaces left for them. All you need is to have a full size doorway and at least four feet square. You can even fit two stories in a single cupboard."

Harry smiled at her, "Sounds like something you're interested in."

Ginny blushed, "My granddad was an enchanter for a construction company. He couldn't build something like number 12, but he built the Burrow. He used to tell stories all the time about building."

"Harry," Sirius called.

Harry blinked, "Right, sorry Gin." He turned away and hurried to where Sirius was settling at a table.

"All right," Sirius said, "let's start with your questions. I'm sure you have a lot of them."

"Do I," Harry said. He tapped his cuff, "I think this is affecting me. I keep feeling like I should be angry, but I'm not."

"Is that," Sirius leaned over, tilting his head as he regarded it. "That's part of what that cuff does. It helps you learn Occlumency."

"Which keeps people from reading my mind," Harry said.

Sirius smiled, "Part of that is emotional control. Right now, it's doing all the work, and part of that is keeping you from getting too upset. If you were actually training, you'd learn how to do that on your own. The cuff requires you to perform a series of tests to prove you have control independently, and then it will stop doing the work for you. It's the same with your music. It starts by dampening everything magical, but as you start consciously directing it, you'll be able to use your magic. When you've completed all the tests, the cuff stops working because you are the master of your magic."

"Cool," Harry said. He toyed with a minute, "Remus kept saying he'd explain about the Dursleys."

Sirius chuckled, "He told me about that. Harry, do you wear that in the shower?"

"No," Harry said, "I don't want to ruin the leather."

"You wouldn't, spelled against damage, including water," Sirius said, "but that's beside the point. Harry, do you ever sing in the shower?"

Harry blushed, "Sometimes," he admitted.

"Harry, you sing in the shower without wearing an inhibitor for your gift." Sirius said, unable to fight his growing grin.

Harry blinked and stared at the cuff, "Do you mean?" He looked up at Sirius, then closed his eyes and slumped forward, "Oh bloody hell."

"Hey, what's wrong mate?" Ron asked from somewhere behind him.

"I cursed the Dursleys," Harry said.

"Sorry Harry," Sirius said with a chuckle, "but we don't speak table."

"Sirius!" Harry groaned, but he set up, twisting to look at his best friend. "I cursed the Dursleys and I didn't mean to!"

"How?" Ron asked.

"Hold on," Sirius said, "you can tell him Harry, but you both need to remember that by law, Ron, you cannot tell anyone."

"You've got a Gift," Ron said, he hurried forward, "that's wicked. I haven't got one that I know of. Dad says I can get tested at Christmas though, just to make sure."

"Yeah," Harry said, "well I've got one; Remus said it runs in the family. It's called the Bardic Gift." He tapped the leather cuff, "This keeps me from just whistling up a storm or something, but only when I'm wearing it."

"Why wouldn't you wear it?" Ron asked.

"Someone failed to tell me that it was waterproof, so I didn't wear it in the shower. I happen to sing in the shower." Harry said.

"And you… you cursed the Dursleys by singing in the shower," Ron said, and laughed, "that's wicked cool. What happened?"

"They're just nicer," Harry said, "not like they actually like me or anything, but they weren't acting like I was an unsanitary carpet stain. Uncle Vernon even called me Harry, like voluntary and everything. He didn't even want anything."

"I'm glad they're nicer," Ron said, "but promise me you won't sing without it around here. I don't want to think of what you'd do to the twins."

"I promise," Harry said. "I'm never taking it off again."

"Ron," Hermione called, "you still have a whole section to do."

"Just a minute," Ron called back.

"Wait," Harry said, "hey Hermione, can you come over here please? There's something I want to tell you."

"Can it wait?" Hermione asked.

"Well it could," Harry said, "but I just told Ron and it wouldn't be fair if I didn't tell you."

"Fine," Hermione said, appearing from out of the shelves a moment later. "What's so important you had to tell me now?"

"First, have you ever heard about magical gifts?" Harry asked.

"A bit," Hermione said, "but Muggleborns don't always develop them so I only read one book about it."

"Did you read about how illegal it is to discuss an underage person's Gift?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Hermione said, "there was a whole chapter devoted to the different laws. What's this about?"

Harry waved his hand with the leather cuff, "I have a Gift. It… it manifested about two weeks ago. It's called the Bardic Gift, and it runs in my family."

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, "That's amazing, congratulations. I need to see what I can find out."

"I have some books I can show you," Sirius said, "and Harry picked a good one from his family vault you can see too, but only after Harry reads it. Yes Harry, I'm insisting you read a book. It was written by your great-grandfather and it will probably answer every question you didn't know you had about being a Bard. James and his father swore by that book."

"I'll read it," Harry said. "But you promised me some actual answers."

"That I did," Sirius agreed, "we should let Ron and Hermione get back to work."

"Right," Hermione said, "Ron, come on."

Ron sighed, "Coming Hermione."

Harry watched them disappear into the stacks, "Now," he said, "what is an- an Oidhre, and why do people keep calling me that?"

"It means Heir," Sirius said, "or Lord in Waiting. It's the proper title for the Heir of an ancient family like the Potters or the Blacks. In your case, you'll be called Oidhre Potter until you come of age. Your son and heir will be called Oidhre until you die or abdicate. It's a reminder to people that you are from an old and powerful bloodline, with noble titles both Muggle and Magical. It's also a reminder to yourself that you have certain expectations to live up to. It's proper for everyone but family and close friends to call you Oidhre Potter because you're over the age of fifteen and outside of Hogwarts. In an effort to promote equality among students, in Hogwarts the Professors are required to refer to you as 'Mister Potter' or your first name as you desire."

"Snape doesn't," Harry pointed out. "I don't think he's called anyone a 'Mister' ever."

"Well he's supposed to," Sirius said, "and it doesn't surprise me that he isn't. Perhaps a complaint should be made about teachers becoming too familiar with their students." He trailed off for a minute. "Never mind that for now. Remus is coordinating with the Goblins; he'll have copies of your family accounts sometime this week so you can understand just what you'll be inheriting. The Potters are old and rich, as the Oidhre, and later on as the Rialóir, you'll be expected to at least know what you have and what its worth. Rialóir means ruler, and it's a title that is acknowledged these days, but it's mostly just a word. Traditionalists give it the most weight, but even the most diehard progressive will respect a Rialóir. The most traditional meaning of a Rialóir is a person who heads up a tribe of wizards. We wizards never really bought into the feudal system, we're too independent."

Harry had to grin at Sirius's smirk.

"Instead a powerful wizard or family of wizards would bring in less powerful wizards and families to protect them. Families are refer to blood kin, and the word for them is teaghlach. A rialóir will have a council, called the ceannair, or leaders. Each ceannair speaks for his cenedl or clan, which is made up of groups of teaghlach. The rialóir appoints his ceannair at will. The rialóir also would approve the adoption of an orphan or a Muggleborn child into the tuath. There were several was this could happen. A teaghlach could sponsor the child, providing them with financial assistance, education, and in time the child either would marry into a part of the tuath or could be approved to start a new teaghlach under their rialóir. Two or three hundred years back, Hermione could have built her own tuath from scratch if she'd wanted to. In theory she still can, but no one would accept it except maybe the Goblins and the ministry."

"You don't know Hermione," Harry said, "If she wanted it, she would make it happen."

"Maybe so," Sirius said. "Today, the progressives hold more sway than the traditionalists. They believe that every house, and by that they mean bloodline, should stand alone. They don't approve of fostering or sponsoring someone not in the bloodline. They think that wizards should have allies, or friends, but only marriage can bring two houses together. An amusing fact is that the Death Eaters are more for the progressive belief of houses and bloodlines than they are the traditional that powerful wizards should protect and support weaker wizards, especially considering that Voldemort has adopted the tuath system as far as we could ever tell. Oh, there are progressives fighting Voldemort too, but most of the true traditionalists either stand neutral or take Dumbledore's side because we welcome and embrace the muggleborns and their families."

"I thought the purebloods sided with Voldemort because they didn't want to lose their traditions," Harry said.

"Oh, but you should ask them which traditions they believe in. The Blacks, for example, believe anything that makes them superior to anyone. Two plagues, two world wars, and two dark lords diminished their old Tuath so that even if I would be called Rialóir by title, we consist of a small, broken house these days. Most of the ceannair are gone, marching in lockstep with the progressives, and the few that remain want little to do with a Rialóir who fully embraces the true meaning of his role." Sirius tilted his head a little, "Well, if I weren't wanted by the ministry I would embrace my role. The Weasleys are too progressive to accept sponsorship, but Hermione; she's a girl who would go far with the right sponsor. Remus wouldn't have languished in poverty if James and I had been free to take our roles. We had so many plans," Sirius sighed.

"I think that's enough, Sirius," Remus said as he approached the table. "Molly has agreed to replace what was destroyed and Bill has gone to fetch ingredients. I suggest we let Harry catch up with Ron and Hermione for a bit while he adjusts to what you told him."

"And what will I be doing?" Sirius asked with a smile.

Remus leaned against his chair, putting his arms around Sirius's neck, "I could make a suggestion."

Harry fled before he actually saw them kiss. Sirius and Remus had given him a lot to think about, and not just about his family.


A/N: After some rather spirited debates, I feel I should share some of the pairings you'll see. The first one is Sirius/Remus. The second one will be (but is not yet) Bill/Tonks. The other for sure pairing will be Ron/Hermione, but not until later on. Now as for Harry/Ginny, this is not a Harry/Ginny story. I want certain things for Ginny as part of the tribes and clans aspect of this story that preclude her and Harry being a forever style couple. This also will not be a Harry/Draco story, because while I like Harry/Draco, I don't like the feel of it for this story. (It will also not be Harry/Severus because I don't approve of a fifteen/sixteen year old with a man literally old enough to be his father.)

For anyone who will now decide not to read this story, I'm not sorry, but I hope you find something to enjoy that fits your tastes better.