The chapter I've written is half of what I intended to write but it stretched so long that I had to cut it off somewhere in the middle. I was more excited about writing the chapter after this one but now I've got to write the other half of this chapter to get anywhere near that. Let's just say something wicked comes this way in the future chapters…

apathetica: Yes, I do have an idea about where this fic is going and have an actual plot outlined as well.

Before starting every chapter I always decide to write replies to all the reviews individually but something or the other always turns up so I apologize. I read all of them and appreciate them and also steal ideas from them. Thanks a lot everyone!!



The man was the one Harry had seen in so many of the images and he didn't need to be the brightest crayon in the box to know who this man was. Harry turned his face away from him.

Mr. Black had both his arms around Harry with one hand on the side of his head in a protective stance. Harry had never been hugged before and instead of feeling suffocated by the intense grip he felt safe. It was an odd feeling.

Mr. Black patted him on the back and whispered words Harry couldn't hear. They were meaningless yet soothing. Harry found the courage to look up again and saw the lady, his mother, was sitting with her face in her hands. The man, his father, seemed to be unable to decide whether to look at Harry or his wife. He would keep alternating his attention between them almost like he was watching a tennis match.

Mr. Black slowly loosened his hold on Harry and looked down at him.

"Do you want to leave, Harry?"

Harry nodded. He might have calmed down a little but he was sure the urge to be sick was going to come back again.

"No, Sirius, don't take my son from me again. I've only just seen him," The man with messy, black hair finally spoke.

"Prongs, I told you, Harry's feeling…" Mr. Black shook his shoulders unable to express himself, "I thought you didn't want to force him."

Harry's father stood up and so did Mr. Black still holding onto Harry.

"I haven't met my son in ten years; my own flesh and blood. I won't let you take him away."

James Potter took out his wand for the first time in his life against his best friend. His face was contorted as if he was in pain.

Lily Potter, who had ceased to sob, looked at the spectacle in front of her.

"James Potter, what is wrong with you."

"No, Lils, I can't," His wand hand warbled dangerously, "I-I." And the hand fell down. James Potter looked defeated.

"James, I know it's hard but you've got to understand Harry is not ready," Mr Black spoke morosely, "you can't expect him to leave all of his life behind to start a new one out of the blue."

"He should be with his family," James argued, sullenly.

Mr. Black turned away with Harry still leaning against his chest.

"We're leaving, James, Lily."

"Harry, please listen to me," Harry's father came closer still looking slightly deranged. The messy hair did not help his case. At all.

Harry looked up almost worried at the man who looked like an eerie adult version of him. His mother stood up immediately. The way she looked at her husband silenced the man immediately.

Her voice was calm when she spoke next, completely divorced from her appearance. She had tear tracks down her cheeks and bits of her hair were standing from the static.

"We're having dinner tomorrow night. I would be honoured if both of you could join us."

All the occupants in the room gaped at her.

"What? I've been slaving over the stew the whole day today. I can't let it go to waste."

"Lily, you've gone barmy haven't you," Sirius peered at her closely trying to figure out what dark curse had hit her.

"Maybe," She half laughed, half sobbed.

"Okay, Lily, you already know I'm coming but I can't say anything for Harry. He shall speak for himself."

At those words all the three adults in the room almost unconsciously looked at the boy. He had been staring at what was happening in front of him with apprehension. Harry was also still shocked and the resulting numbness perhaps was a good thing because it prevented him from turning into a weeping mess or exploding in anger.

Harry looked down at his feet and at the now semi crumpled class picture in his hands. His own fourth grade self looked so small and battered. Harry remembered how Dudley had been taunting him the whole day and had nearly upended a pot of black poster paint on him.

His days with the Dursleys had been hard for him at times but Harry had learnt the best way to fight them was adopting complete and utter nonchalance. It was easier to be not bothered by people who hated him but these people they were so different…

Harry looked up, his green eyes almost shining in the fire light, "I honestly don't know."


"You don't have to go if you don't want to," Mr. Black broke the silence after they landed in Mr. Black's office.

"I know," Harry shook his head in frustration, "but I'm sick of being afraid of the unknown. Some part of me wants to go simply because I want to face my fears; to get it over and done with, but I don't want them thinking I'm there because I want to be with them or something and, and…"

"And the other part actually wants to be with them," Mr. Black completed Harry's sentence.

"That doesn't mean I forgive them even though it's weird to see them like that…" Harry trailed off visibly disturbed by the thought.

"I'm sure they didn't expect their first meeting with you to go down in such a chaotic way."

Harry shrugged, "I guess."

Harry looked down at the picture in his hand.

"What was my picture doing with them?"

"You might have never known about their existence but they definitely knew about yours. Your aunt sent them a stock of your images to keep them from hounding her doors."

Harry tilted his head thoughtfully, "I always did wonder why my aunt would take me to get photographed when she never put up any of my pictures."

Mr. Black made a growly noise and Harry thought it wise to never mention the woman in front of his godfather again.

"I think I should leave, dinner won't be finished yet."

Harry, it turned out, was correct. Dinner was not over yet and he easily snuck in with a late group of students.

His friends pretty much interrogated him before he could even sit down.

"Do you even have any idea how worried I was," Ali asked furiously, biting on a chicken leg.

"Sorry, I just had to go somewhere with my godfather," Harry answered apologetically.

"I know that, you daft cow," Ali bit into his food with vehemence as Harry mouthed 'daft cow' to the rest of his friends, "you told us, but it shouldn't have taken you so long. You've been gone for hours."

"I- I got lost as well."

Walter hit his head on the table while Jeremy thwacked his head with his hand.

"Lost, what do you mean lost," Ali's eyes bulged almost comically, "I knew I shouldn't have let you go."

"What are you, my mother," Harry arched his eyebrow though the mention of mothers suddenly reminded him of his day out.

"Forget it, Ali," Harry piled food in his own plate.


Ali was currently giving Harry the cold shoulder and had fallen asleep before the other boys could even change.

"Don't worry, Harry, Ali's a prat sometimes," Walter patted Harry's back sympathetically.

"It's not him I'm worried about," Harry slumped against his bed even further.

"It's about your godfather then," Walter tried to guess.

"A bit," Harry ran his hand through his hair, "I always thought I was all alone in this world. My uncle and aunt really don't count. I just," Harry paused, "I just wished I could be part of someone's family and my godfather just led me to people who could be my family."

"That's wonderful, Harry, but why aren't you…" Walter trailed off his jubilation dying out.

"Happy, because they could have been there for me long, long before now and they weren't."

"And they weren't because of the same reason your godfather wasn't, right?"

Harry nodded, "And they want me choose."

"Between what."

"My life here or a life with them."

Walter was silent and then he spoke choosing his words carefully, "Sometimes having a choice is so much better then not having one at all. Choose whatever makes you happy, Harry."

Harry looked up at him, "Right now I'd rather make choice on whether I'm spending Halloween as a ghost or a werewolf."

The next day Harry indeed made the choice and decided to be a ghost; the cheapest option since it required a simple white bed sheet. They had a mud fight in the grounds and were eventually let loose on a neighbouring village. Harry had never had more fun in his life but the lingering thought of the dinner was still never far behind. Harry thought long and hard about his predicament and finally came to a decision.

When Mr. Black came up to ask him about whether he wanted to attend the dinner or not Harry had nodded.

He had been given a choice to make and he wasn't going to let go of the opportunity to understand his choices some more. Ali's favourite quote was 'knowledge is power' and now was the time to gain some power and understand what his options were.


Harry fidgeted with his shirt buttons again and only stopped when Mr. Black glared at him as the man tied his own cravat in an intricate knot that refused to sit properly.

"It would be much easier if you wore actual clothes," Harry pointed out.

"Of course, or maybe I should just go naked; that would be the easiest option."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"I mean something simpler and not this poncey?"

"You mean jeans and a T shirt. Been there done that when I was a child. Nothing would aggravate my mother than muggle clothing back then. Rebellion feels so much fun when there's someone worth rebelling against. Now mother wouldn't give a rat's arse if I really did decide to parade out on Diagon Alley in the buff. And besides the ladies think I look spiffy dressed like this."

"Yes, that's the word they're thinking," Harry muttered.

His godfather arched his eyebrow warningly.

"Well, we'd better get going," He finally spoke after going over his appearance yet again in the mirror. Harry once again started fidgeting with his button.


Harry and Mr. Black once again landed in the same room as before. It was completely dark outside and the room was lit up with a wrought iron chandelier which had candles in it rather than bulbs.

As soon as they walked in Harry's mother rushed out of the room adjoining the one the floo was in looking panicked and excited at the same time. She was wearing rich, green robes with a white apron on top of it; her red hair open yet again though far more tamed.

"Oh, goodness, you're here already and… and..." She couldn't finish but her smile widened manifold seeing Harry with Mr. Black fully conveying what she meant to say.

"Early are we, should we leave till you get ready," Mr. Black asked mischievously.

"No," She uttered forcefully, "No. Of course not," Her smile gradually regained its vibrancy.

"Come, I'll take you towards the dining room. James is in the kitchen looking at the roast for me."

"Slave driver," Mr. Black coughed and Lily smirked back.

She paused and loudly called in the direction of the stairs that also connected to the floo room, "Rosie, sweety, Harry's here."

"And I'm obviously invisible," Mr. Black mock pouted.

"And Sirius is with him too," Lily spoke in the same tone.

Almost instantly fast paced footsteps could be heard coming from the second story. As they got closer they got louder and the girl Harry had met the previous evening bounced down the stairs. She had a huge smile on her face and like a torpedo headed straight for Mr. Black.

"Sirius, Sirius, Sirius," she squealed as the man, after wincing from the initial contact, pulled away from her and lifted her in the air.

"Careful, this is a cottage not a chapel, mind her head," Lily had a hand on her hip.

"Lily," A loud voice came from direction of the room they were standing in the entrance of.

"Oh dear, my husband's probably burnt the kitchen down." Lily excused herself and raced off in the direction of what seemed to be the kitchen.

Mr. Black put the girl down and she clung onto his arm immediately.

"Why don't you come over here often, Sirius, don't you know how much I've missed you. The house gets so boring."

"What you're actually saying, Rosie, is that you miss Daniel."

Rosie made a face, "Yuck, who would miss Dan."

"You have been missing him since every time I come over here I'm regaled by stories of what Daniel's been up to in Hogwarts."

Rosie pouted, "That's only because he's the one having fun, making new friends and doing magic. I can't wait to go to Hogwarts soon," With that proclamation she gave Harry an odd look.

"Well, wait a few more years and you'll be firsty soon enough."

"Why can't I get a wand, now, I bet I can do loads of magic," Rosie crossed her arms and Mr. Black sighed. This obviously was a much repeated argument.

"Don't make me recite old Merlin's sonnet about 'The Age of Perilous magic'. It clearly states why anyone below eleven should not be given a wand. It's practically the basis of why Hogwarts is open to students above eleven."

"But Merlin wrote it so long ago, what if he's wrong."

"If you don't want to exchange your head for an elephant's I would suggest refraining from touching wands. The one thing I've learnt in my life was that Merlin was never wrong."

"Never," Harry asked, curiously.

Mr. Black shook his head gravely though his smile was poorly masked.

Rosie sighed and led Mr. Black into the other room. It turned out to be the dining room. It was large compared to the cosy proportions of the previous room. The room was a blend of modern and medieval. The floor was stone as were the walls which were lightly covered in limestone. A substantial looking, wooden table flanked the room. On it was oddly enough very familiar looking tableware. Harry recognized it immediately.

"That's the Royal Dalton," Harry spoke awed.

"And since when have become such a connoisseur of high end British china," Mr Black asked looking baffled.

"Oh, this looks exactly like my aunt's Royal Dalton Tableware. She only uses it on very, very special occasions. Even Dudley isn't allowed to touch it."

"That was the set that Lily had in her hope chest. Lily doesn't use it much, either, even though it's got an unbreakable charm on it. Only comes out on Christmas and the wedding anniversaries. I guess Christmas has come early this year," Mr. Black smiled at Harry fondly as he pulled out a chair. Harry and Rosie followed his lead and Harry chose the seat at the end of the table. Harry looked at Rosie from the corner of his eye and she was still sulking.

Suddenly she looked up, straight at Harry, "That's Dan's seat."

Harry coughed uncomfortably, "But he isn't here."

"But you can't take his place just like that."

Harry looked at Mr. Black with a look of pleading on his face.

"Now, now, Rosie, that's not the way to treat a guest, much less the guest of honour," Mr. Black tried to intervene.

"Yes, guest," She spoke quietly and looked away while Harry tried to puzzle out her cryptic words. Mr. Black just patted his arm.

Harry heard someone curse in the floo room. Mr Black didn't even turn around as he spoke, "Got caught in the floo again, eh, Moony."

A soot covered man made his appearance. He had a small briefcase type bag in his hand that was also completely blackened. The man was wearing tweed all over and had hair turning grey even though he looked too young to have hair like that.

The man suddenly paused at the entrance his eyes wide as he stared at the scene. For a few moments he stood transfixed.

"My word," His hand slowly rubbed his cheek.

Mr. Black rolled his eyes and got up. He insensitively pulled at the man's hand and brought him in front of Harry.

"This loony, soot covered man is Remus Lupin, better known as Moony, and this is Harry Potter, yes, the Harry Potter, now play nice."

Harry cleared his throat and outstretched a hand, "Um, nice to meet you, Mr. Lupin."

Remus looked at the hand and then back at Harry a few times, looking almost pained and then quite suddenly turned away, completely disregarding Harry's hand.

"Oye, what's wrong with you, Mr. Prefect," Mr. Black asked outraged.

The man ignored Harry as well and sat down on the table next to Mr. Black with his hand covering most of his face.

"I think I'm growing old, Padfoot, I can't take shocks like these any more," The man spoke, his voice muffled by his hand.

Harry blinked. He didn't know he was quite that shocking to look at.

"Moony, you great big, lump of cotton candy. I told you Harry would be here."

"I know, I know, I just…" Remus trailed off. The man abruptly looked up. The hand had wiped off the soot on his face where it had rested so it looked like an inverted hand print was on his face. Rosie giggled.

The sound broke whatever trance he'd been and looked at Rosie who was seated across him.

"Why, Rose, you look lovely today."

"Thank you, Remus," she replied in a demure fashion unlike her previous self.

"And Harry, I'm ashamed at my complete lack of manners." He finally shook Harry's hand which had still been hanging in the air. Harry smiled back hesitantly not sure what to make of the man.

The moment was interrupted by a gasp.

"Remus Lupin, look at the state of you. And that too near my Royal Dalton," Lily looked outraged.

"It's just china, Lily," Mr. Black piped feebly in defence, "I don't think soot does anything to it."

She raised her wand and with a quick swish the soot covered man was clean.

"I'm sorry, Lily," Remus hung his head in shame. Lily just rolled her eyes.

"Sirius, I think you'd better join James in the kitchen. I think he's hiding in there."

"Why," Remus asked confused, giving Harry a quick glance.

"Pulled his wand out at me, yesterday," Mr. Black answered quietly.

"Oh."

"And now he won't show his face, some Gryffindor. Now trot in boys and get him to come out," Lily spoke as she sat down next to Rosie. Both men followed her advice.

Harry's mum sat down next to Rosie as she unnecessary fiddled with her cutlery and plates.

Harry looked up when she abruptly asked him how his school was.

"Umm… it's good."

"Do you like the subjects you are taking?"

"Err… Maths is ok; geometry's harder than it looks and I still can't get the hang of French."

It looked like the woman was gaining a bit of confidence the way she was looking at Harry dead on with out nervously glancing down at the pattern in the napkins.

"French," She almost sighed, "I always wanted to learn that language."

Harry didn't know what to say and was relieved when all the other men including James Potter entered the room.

"Kissed and made up, have we," Lily asked arching an eyebrow.

"Yes, yes, we snogged each other silly."

"Gross, Dad," Rosie muttered wrinkling her nose.

James Potter seemed to open his mouth to reply but his eyes got stuck on Harry. Harry unconsciously patted his hair down, nervous about the scrutiny.

"I-I- You're really here."

Harry shrugged.

"Yes, your little prongslet is here. Now, I'm starving so sit down and give me food," Mr. Black pronounced trying to look nonchalant though failing miserably.

Harry pulled his hand on his lap because he couldn't conceal their trembling any longer. It was so surreal to be sitting on this table, with everyone making jokes, laughing, waiting for food as if it was so normal. It was anything but normal. He knew even Mr. Black was forcing his unaffected behaviour. As much as they tried they couldn't conceal the undercurrent of tension in the room.

"Well, here you go," Lily gently swished her wand.

Harry's mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast chicken, lamb chops, Yorkshire pudding, and Stew seemed to be the main dishes but there were many small side dishes as well.

"Mum," Rosie spoke awed. It was obvious from her tone that this wasn't a usual occurrence.

"Lily, how are we supposed to eat all of this?" Remus too looked stunned by the quantity of the food.

"You've practically made everything in the Hogwart's menu," Mr. Black announced.

Lily blushed while James patted the back of her hand fondly.

"Mrs. Potter couldn't decide what to cook so we ended up making everything we could."

As if it was routine everyone started digging in instantaneously. Harry watched as Remus started cutting up the roast in a dedicated manner while Rosie helped herself to the chips.

His mum was the only one who wasn't in the middle of serving herself. She was staring at him. As Harry noticed her she nodded at him to start. Harry looked down confused. He had never seen so much food, ever. Even at Stonewall high there would be only one main dish and one side dish. Harry was looking at the chops and then the kebabs trying to figure out what looked like it tasted better when a hand pulled out his plate. Harry looked up to see his mother. She smiled at him and started stacking food in his plate. Harry almost felt a lump in his throat.

He'd always wanted this; someone who actually cared about what he ate; someone who actually liked him and smiled at him. Even after the plate was full and placed in front of him he couldn't look up. He felt like his insides were aching and he didn't know what to do to relieve himself of the heart ache. His greatest wish was in front of him and he felt like a fool for not taking the opportunity to obtain it with open arms.

"Eat up, mate," Mr. Black poked him the ribs.

Harry started nibbling on his food still aware of his parent's weighty gazes on him. His dad was practically eating with his eyes fixed on him as if he couldn't believe Harry was sitting there.

"Don't you like the kebabs, H-Harry?"

"They're delicious, thank you," Harry mumbled without looking up.

"You haven't even started on the roast, it's Lily's speciality," James prodded again. Harry looked for fleeing second in the man's eyes and then back at his plate again, his courage failing him.

"I'm not used to eating so much food," Harry spoke quietly and he heard a loud thud as he finished his sentence. James Potter had placed his glass of water down with more force than necessary.

"James, please," Lily spoke with her mouth firmly pinched in a line.

"Lily, there's a very good reason our son looks like a bag of bones."

Harry was very much offended at being called a bag of bones though his friends called him that all the time. He wasn't that skinny any more and he knew he'd plumped up considerably after he came to Stonewall thanks to their ridiculously greasy diet. Harry stabbed at his peas in frustration.

"We'll discuss this later, James," Lily's voice was steel and her husband gave a sharp nod accepting defeat.

Harry continued to chomp through his peas.

"I know you've been doing well at footsie, Harry. Do you like other sports," James addressed Harry trying to dispel the tension.

"Footsie," Half the people on the table mouthed and Harry looked up confused.

"Err... James, I don't think Harry's old enough for that kind of sport," Remus spoke with a strange expression on his face.

James looked confused, "Isn't that what they call the sport where people run around after a ball in tiny shorts."

"Football," Sirius exclaimed relieved, "Harry's brilliant at it."

"I run as well and I'm getting better at wrestling," Harry spoke haltingly.

"Wrestling," Lily didn't look pleased as she said that. "Isn't it dangerous."

"Umm… I usually dodge easily. I'm usually the last one to be out in dodge the ball."

Both Lily and James smiled at him almost as proudly as if he'd just announced he had found the solution to world peace. It was eerie.

Harry looked down at his plate and realized he needed a bit of ketchup on one of his sausages.

"Mr. Black, could you pass me the ketchup," Harry asked.

"Mr. Black, you call, Sirius, Mr. Black," Rosie asked incredulously.

"That's what we call our teachers," Harry stated.

"Remus is my teacher and I don't call him Mr. Lupin," She replied prodding at a bit of roast.

"Harry has more manners unlike a certain young lady sitting over here," Her mother answered straightening her daughter's napkin.

"She's right though, he should call me Sirius, or better yet why don't you call me Padfoot," Sirius interjected.

Rosie's eyes widened, "But that's our secret name for you. He can't call you that."

"Harry can call me what ever he likes," Sirius looked at Harry fondly.

They chatted further with odd bits of silence in the middle. Remus asked Harry about how he was coping with school and questions about Sirius' teaching style. He seemed gobsmacked at the idea that his friend was not only a competent teacher but a strict one too.

"I can officially say I'm going to kiss McGonagall's hand the next time I see her. I can't believe how she put up with nasty little buggers like us."

When everyone was done with the main courses and the dessert Remus and Lily got up to take some of the dishes back to the kitchen.

"Aren't you going to help your slave driver, Jamsie-kins," Sirius asked as he stretched against his chair. Rosie got up and took over Remus' chair.

James rolled his eyes, "We had a deal that if I helped her in the kitchen and made the kebabs and the chops I would be let off cleanup duty. Besides she's got Dipsy in there. My House Elf's going to get rusty if she doesn't use her."

"Where is Dipsy, I haven't see her once this evening."

James looked at Harry who was listening intently to the conversation, "She's been weeping every time we mention her young Master Harry and Lily seems to want to join her as well. I've been trying to keep them apart. And she wants to show Master Harry what a proper House Elf she is."

"By not making an appearance at all," Mr. Black asked.

"Exactly, proper House Elves aren't supposed to be seen or heard," James mimicked something with a nasally accent.

Rosie didn't seem to be listening to them and was inching towards Sirius, obviously up to something.

"Now, now, Rosie Posie, you aren't getting anywhere near my wand," Sirius twirled his wand in her face tantalizingly.

"This is so unfair," Rosie half whined; pouting.

"What's gotten into you Rose, what happened to my nice, sweet, little girl?" James pulled Rose closer as he spoke half mockingly.

"Dad, I'm not little any longer."

"But, still too little to touch a wand," Sirius smirked.

"Sirius," James glared at him.

Rosie put her face in her father's shoulder.

"But Harry's not too little to hold a wand, is he."

Rosie looked up immediately, her eyes widened, "You wouldn't."

Sirius just smirked and handed out his wand to Harry. Harry hesitated and looked at his godfather's face.

"Oh, come on, it won't bite."

Harry slowly moved towards it and held onto it gingerly. Nothing happened, no firework, no sounds, no rabbits popped out at the other end of the wand. Harry gave a sigh of relief. In that very second a light zapped from the wand.

"Holy Merlin's bollocks," someone cursed as smoke completely filled the room marking down the visibility greatly.

It was only after James loudly spoke a spell that the room started to clear.

"That went well," Sirius spoke looking dazed.

"Oh, no, look," Rosie pointed at the table.

The Royal Dalton plate in front of Harry had a large crack right in the middle.


*Gasp* what will happen next when Lily finds out her plate is broken.

Just kidding, that bit isn't relevant. It's the random burst of magic that's the worrying part especially since the plate already had an unbreakable charm on it.

This is still a bumpy ride for the Potters so no fluff as yet.

So did I utterly mess up the characterizations? I don't know, you decide :)