Updated: June 3rd, 2015
- Corrected a few misspellings and grammar issues that irked me.
Tonks paced, irritated, in front of her family's fireplace, waiting for the last of her guests to arrive. Honestly, why had she even invited the little dweeb?
She had recently been accepted into the Auror Training Program and had been, understandably, ecstatic, so much so that she had conceded to her mother's wishes - demands; Black women were notoriously stubborn - to hold a small, celebratory party. Despite the celebration being in Tonks' honor it was Andromeda, her mother, who had taken the preparations firmly by the reigns; dictating even the guest list.
The majority of the invitees - a grand total of seven - were friends of the family that her mother had invited along. Thankfully, Tonks had managed to demand guests of her own, inviting a number of her fellow recent graduates and trainee hopefuls to the small get-together, though, only a small handful had accepted. She didn't hold it against the ones who hadn't, it was the summer hols after all.
But for reasons she couldn't even begin to fathom, she had also invited the annoying cheekiness that is Harry Potter.
It should come as no surprise - to her at least - that Harry, being nearly half an hour late, was the reason for her aggravation. She was about to put her new-found magical freedom to good use as soon as the pipsqueak showed himself.
"Just you wait, Potter." She grumbled quietly, spinning on her heel to renew her pacing.
Unfortunately, all traces of her anger disappeared, a bemused smile spreading across her face as her hair went from a dark purplish-red to light green, when her last guest stumbled out of the Floo, collapsed to his knees in the midst of a cloud of ash, and coughed, a plume of smoke spilling out of his mouth.
"I hate Floo travel." Harry croaked morosely, his nimble fingers plucking soot from the tip of his tongue.
Tonks couldn't help it, she laughed. It may have been a bit louder than necessary, drawing the attention of her parents and other guests in the adjoined kitchen.
The sound of her laughter was soon joined by a chorus of others.
"Laugh it up," he choked out, pushing himself to his feet and dusting himself off. "But when I'm big, and strong, and powerful beyond measure, you'll be sorry." He shook a clenched fist at them in mock warning, now trying to blow ash out from his nose.
Tonks snorted, striding over to smack him atop his head, sending ash and soot floating into the air.
"Nymphadora!" her mother chided, though for the smack or the further mess she created neither knew.
Tonks rolled her eyes, not even bothering to protest the use of her given name - with her mum it was pointless - sweeping her wand to vanish the mess Harry created before dragging him over to perform the obligatory round of introductions.
Andromeda Tonks slyly observed her daughter as she pulled the boy after her, introducing him in turn with the others.
When Nymphadora had first revealed her budding friendship with the Boy-Who-Lived, she had been surprised, cautious, and finally concerned. Even as a child her daughter had never gotten along with those her own age, preferring persons who were much older and much more mature. That could, in part, be blamed on her latent morphing abilities; adults could rationalize the skill as a talent, an advantage, where a child only saw the humor or - much more likely - the strangeness of it.
So, it came as a surprise when Nymphadora had befriended a much younger first year. That surprise all but disappeared at the revelation that the child was another Metamorphmagus - though, not to the same innate level or skill as Nymphadora. She didn't have to be the girl's mother to pick up the obvious joy in her letters, delighted at 'no longer being alone' as her daughter had put it - that she had written at all was telling in and of its self.
At first Andromeda, and her husband Ted, as well, had assumed Nymphadora had stepped into the logical role of big sister judging by the tone of her continued letters and the obvious age discrepancy between the two - this was further reinforced when Molly Weasley had mentioned spotting the duo (though, young Mister Potter had obviously been disguised in some manner) in Diagon Alley. But, as the year progressed, Harry had quickly moved from the role of little brother to that of an honest-to-Merlin friend.
That is where the caution came from.
By all accounts, a seventeen - nearly eighteen - year old should not genuinely befriend an eleven year old child. There wasn't anything necessarily wrong with the act - it was highly irregular - but, the fact remained that the discrepancy created by the near-seven year difference between them should have created an insurmountable barrier.
Surprisingly, it did not and, over time, the more she learnt about Mister Potter, the better she understood.
The boy was, apparently, very mature for his age with a penchant for mischief - a perfect parallel to her own daughter - with a bright mind and a natural grasp on the practical aspect of magic. Of course, this was all second-hand, but she was of the inclination to believe her long time friend, Aurora - doubly so when that friend was a professor at Hogwarts and had taught the boy personally.
And so, the caution ebbed, only to be replaced by concern.
For once, it wasn't concern for her daughter, but for the young man she seemed so enthralled with. Oh, she wasn't worried about anything... untoward happening between them; Mister Potter was still just a boy after all and couldn't possibly grab her daughter's attention in that manner but, Harry Potter wasn't just a name in their society.
Her daughter was smart; she knew she had inherited a Black mark from her mother, not only for their family name, but also because of Andromeda's banishment from said family. It took political connections to get anywhere within the magical society - save for the obscenely powerful like Dumbledore - and that was doubly so for women in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - a position her daughter has striven for since her second year of schooling - and Nymphadora had exceptionally high aspirations.
Having the Boy-Who-Lived attached to you - even if it was just as friends - would stay hands and open potential doors. In short, she was worried Nymphadora was using the poor boy.
But once again, it became clear her worrying had been for naught as she observed the two interacting with one another. There was true camaraderie between them and mutual care and, while it was odd due to their difference of age, there was no reason to be concerned.
They turned toward her and Ted, making their way across the fairly crowded room to finish introductions. Bright, emerald eyes were looking back at her, spilling with amusement. He grinned, his eyes darting to glance at her daughter before, with a subtle tick of his finger, he sent a silent, wandless tripping jinx at the poor girl.
Andromeda kept her expression carefully composed, but was suitably impressed at the casual display of power and control.
Nymphadora stumbled, further tripping over the edge of the hearth rug.
She cursed her own clumsiness.
Harry laughed.
No, she needn't have worried at all.
Harry would never admit it... but at the moment, he was eternally grateful for Sniveling Snape and his torturous Occlumency lessons - oh, the bastard hadn't actually taught him anything, but pain and humiliation were amazing forms of motivation.
At the current moment, Harry's entire mind consisted of the image of a flickering candle - the conception he had long since used to immerse himself in to mask the turmoil of his emotions - as he stood, face to face, with the very-much-alive elder Tonks'. Naturally, in a way that can only be natural for Harry Potter, Tonks' little get-together consisted of various members of the Order. All of them he had personally known and had long since perished.
Discounting Tonks, herself, as well as her parents - Harry didn't even want to contemplate the horror that had befallen Andromeda at the hands of Bellatrix - there had been Hestia Jones, a recent Hogwarts graduate and apparently Tonks' close friend who went missing in the winter of '99, and Emmeline Vance, a long standing Auror and somewhat mentor to Tonks who had been killed just before Harry's original seventeenth birthday.
Harry smiled rather timidly as he stepped toward Ted and Andromeda - Ted was just short of six feet, with broad shoulders and thick, powerful forearms that were currently crossed over the slight bulge of his stomach; indicative of his fondness for English Pale Ale. His face was simultaneously open and friendly, yet stern and appraising. Overall, he had a common look to him, right down to his receding, mousy brown hair.
Beside him Andromeda stood, her frame lithe and relaxed, her highborn status evident in her aristocratic beauty and the confidence she exhibited just by standing at her husband's side. She had near jet black hair - nearly as dark as Padfoot's - hanging low over her shoulders, a light smile tugged at the corner of her lips and amusement danced in her steel eyes.
Harry had only ever met Tonks' father a time or two and would be perfect strangers with the man if not for his daughter, but Andromeda had been a bit of a surrogate mother to him, much like Mrs. Weasley, after the death of her husband and daughter before she too had been captured and killed. The thought only served to strengthen his resolve.
Harry smiled amicably as they came to stop before the two.
"Harry," Tonks began - if the metamorph was nervous, she done a great job of hiding it. "This is my mum, Andromeda, and my dad, Ted." She waved a hand toward him, as if presenting some great prize. "Mum, dad... this is Harry Potter."
Nothing was said for a moment before Ted cracked a small smile, thrusting his arm out in greeting. "Mister Potter."
Harry adopted his serious face - brow slightly crinkled and his lips pressed together. "Papa Tonks," he replied stoically, nearly loosing it when Tonks guffawed beside him. "It's an honor to meet such a noble and upstanding member of the Wizarding elite." He made sure to moderate his tone lest he come across as mocking.
Ted's smile grew into a grin. "Dora has told us... much about you."
Harry nodded his head respectfully, "All lies, I assure you."
Letting go of his hand, Harry neatly sidestepped to stand before Andromeda - the far more serious member of the family - his posture ramrod straight and face a perfectly blank mask.
He accepted her hand with both of his, bending low over it to brush his lips across her knuckles. "My lady," he addressed her formally, somehow maintaining his composure. "The legend of your undying awesomeness still haunts the hallowed halls of Hogwarts."
He chuckled inside; alliteration always got to him.
Harry stepped back, glancing left and right at the elder Tonks' lack of response and surprised faces. "Maybe I should have went with hugs," he mock whispered to Tonks from the corner of his mouth.
Andromeda finally responded, arching an eyebrow at his cheekiness, before sending Tonks a sly glance. "Nymphadora, dear?" She began smoothly. "You never told me Mister Potter was such a wise arse."
Ted and Tonks broke out in laughter, Andromeda unsuccessfully attempted to smother her smile.
Harry pouted.
"At least now I know where Tonks' sarcasm comes from," he muttered, only succeeding in renewing their laughter. Ah... nothing like a bit of humor to break the ice.
Several hours later, long after all but one of the guests had left and night had fallen, Harry found himself seated at the Tonks' kitchen table, sipping a cup of Earl Grey. It had been a pleasant evening, if not more than a little boring - there just wasn't a lot a nearly twelve-year-old could reasonably get away with in the presence of responsible adults.
Not that there had been anything remotely wild to partake in anyways.
Seated opposite him was Ted, sipping a glass of twelve-year-old Ogden's. A projector style pensive - Harry suspected Andromeda hadn't left quiet so empty handed as everyone believed from the House of Black - was positioned between them, the runic etchings glowing along its surface as one of Harry's recent memories played its self out.
Currently, the image was of Harry, clad in his Quidditch garb, with the Hogwarts' stands and crowd zipping by as he swerved, rolled, and swayed while tracking the Snitch, his crimson robes snapping behind him.
Ted - he refused to be called Papa Tonks - being the Quidditch fanatic of the family, had insisted upon reviewing Harry's 'death-defying-dive' and remarkable catch during the Gryffindor - Hufflepuff match that Tonks had no doubt told him about.
Harry, himself, wasn't paying too much attention to the event, seeing how he had actually lived through it twice now - which served to cause a bit of confusion when calling the memory up earlier. Instead, he was psyching himself up, going back over his plausible reasons and explanations as to how he even knew of Sirius Black - let alone how to properly work Padfoot into a conversation.
He sat, silently observing - plotting - as Ted watched his dive in fascination once more before cutting the image off, prompting Harry to return the memory to his mind, just as Tonks and her mother joined them from seeing the last of the guests off, sparking up conversation over something or other.
Alright, this is it. Nice and smooth Harry. He took a deep breath, opened his mouth, and...
"Do you know Sirius Black?" Harry blurted, closing his eyes in mental anguish at his idiocy as deathly silence settled about the kitchen.
"Good one, Potter." A voice sounding suspiciously like Snape sneered in his mind.
Harry cautiously opened his eyes - it was no secret that none of the Tonks were too fond of their familiar connection - his gaze nervously flitting between Tonks, Ted, and Andromeda, all of whom were frowning in his direction, Tonks' expression slightly more confused than the others.
Andromeda's frown ebbed away, leaving her with a curious and suspicious gleam in her grey eyes, sizing him up for a moment longer before answering carefully. "He is - was - a distant cousin of mine." She paused, searching his reaction. "Why do you ask?"
Well... bluntness had worked so far. "He's my Godfather."
Silence once again reigned for a moment or two, before the Tonks matriarch continued. "Your... Godfather?" She spoke slowly, taking a seat beside her husband, Nymphadora mimicking her a moment later.
Harry nodded.
"And why, Mister Potter," Ted cut in. "Would you bring this up?" Uh-oh, back to Mister Potter.
"It is public knowledge that I was raised by what's left of my mother's Muggle family." Harry began, deciding a bit of background information would be doing everyone a favor. "What is not commonly known is that my relatives hid the true nature of my heritage from me, that I knew nothing of magic or the Wizarding world, nothing of my fame until after I received my Hogwarts letter. I didn't know my mum was a witch nor my father a wizard."
Harry studiously avoided looking at Tonks and her rather - quite literally - sad eyes and turquoise hair. She had heard the story before, but still reacted somewhat badly to it.
"Growing up, not knowing about my parents and the world they grew up in, I was naturally curious about the magical side of my family. So, I researched." Harry took the last sip of his tea, his mouth having gone dry. "That's where I first came across the name Sirius Black - he signed as a witness to my birth you see, and was noted in the Records of Birth as being my appointed Godfather. That was also when I discovered my Great Grandfather, Charlus Potter, and his wife-" He looked to Andromeda. "-your Great Aunt, Dorea Black." His lips quirked up into a smile. "That was around the same time that I realized me and Tonks were practically cousins - distantly, yes but still related."
"So, that's why I asked," he smiled sheepishly. "Because I already knew of your relation to him." He sighed once more, not having to fake the bit of exasperation and despondency behind it. "Needless to say, it didn't take much effort to discover Sirius Black's betrayal and his imprisonment. What I didn't find, however, was the script, or any documents whatsoever, from his trial."
"And why would you be interested in those, son?" Ted interjected. Back to son; things are going well.
Harry shrugged. "I wanted to know why he done it. By all indications, he and my father were friends; best friends even. I wanted to know why he willingly betrayed my parents, especially when it seemed as if he had gone to great lengths to distance himself from his own family."
Hmm... seems as if Harry was gonna have to thank Dumbledore as well, for his course in Half-Truths 101.
"And... well, I couldn't find a reason for why there wouldn't be any mention of a trial. I mean, if he was sent to... Azkaban?" He asked to seem a little more naive, receiving a nod from all three. " Right. If he was sent to Azkaban without a trial then that's illegal, right? So...um... what if he's innocent?"
"I don't know," surprisingly it was Tonks who spoke up. "About it being illegal." She clarified, Harry was happy to note that he wasn't the only one who looked a little confused. "You see, Bagnold - that was the Minister before Fudge - declared Magical Britain in a State of War about six months before You-Know-Who fell. That allowed our Aurors to use deadly force when dealing with Death Eater's, but it also allowed the Ministry pretty much free reign to do whatever they wanted with War Criminals; interrogate, imprison, even execute without fear of repercussions from the ICW. I don't know if detention limitations apply to Sirius Black in this instance because he was arrested under an Act of War, so he may not be illegally incarcerated."
Well... damn.
"Couldn't it be overturned or something by the Wizengamot?" Harry tried, desperate for something.
"Well yeah," Tonks shrugged. "Those old geezers can overturn anything."
That was something at least.
"Harry dear," Andromeda called softly, gaining his attention. "Why is this so important to you?"
"Um..." Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. "If he's found innocent and freed, then he'd be my guardian." He looked down, playing up the situation a bit. "I- I wouldn't have to go back to the Dursley's." He mumbled.
He might as well have yelled it due to the silence in the kitchen.
Harry looked up through his bangs - he might be over emphasizing his reaction but, despite his age, he still wasn't entirely comfortable discussing the Dursley's - not entirely surprised at the trio's reactions.
Tonks, predictably - she knew quite a bit about his situation - was glaring a hole into the wall, fists clenched atop the table, her hair having jumped from turquoise blue to dark red. Ted and Andromeda were frowning harshly at nothing; it didn't take a genus to understand something was wrong when a child was hoping to be taken in by a man, a felon, he had never met - not to mention that Harry had a seemingly legitimate reason to hate Sirius.
Makes him wonder how no one had noticed anything the first time around. Sirius and Remus he could excuse - Padfoot had just spent over a decade in one of the worst places imaginable and Remus was a bit preoccupied with the full moon and all. Hermione and Ron were both kids, sheltered from the harsher aspects of the world, but Dumbledore, Fudge, and everyone else in that room should have known something was amiss. Hell, Snape should have known; seriously, what kind of child goes around pleading for the life of the person believed to be directly responsible for their parents murder?
He either should have been taken seriously or admitted to Saint Mungo's.
Ted glanced at him, sighing before he opened his mouth but was interrupted by the chime of a clock. Harry followed the sound, surprised to realize it was already eleven o'clock - they had sat there for far longer than he thought.
"Hmm," Ted hummed. "I believe it may be best to table this discussion for now," he smiled, attempting to lighten the mood. "It's well past this old man's bed time."
He shared a brief look with his wife before turning back toward Harry. "Harry," he spoke gently, rising from his seat. "I believe it would be best if you just stay the night here. It's far too late for you to be wondering on home by your lonesome."
Great, now they thought he was being physically abused - which, other than that one time with Petunia and a frying pan, he hadn't been.
Nonetheless, he nodded his acceptance - he wasn't planning to return 'home' anyway, but renting a room at the Leaky Cauldron wasn't his idea of a good time either.
Harry waved off contacting the Dursley's, telling them he had already informed his relatives that he would most likely be staying - he hadn't - and advised Ted and Andromeda to not be surprised or spooked when a snowy owl showed up during the middle of the night before exchanging 'good nights' and being promptly led to the guest bedroom by Tonks, told extra pillows, sheets, or covers could be found in the linen closet, hugged and wished an additional 'good night' by the Metamorph.
He had a feeling it was going to be a long summer.
Author's Note:
A few ideas jumped into my head that just would not leave me alone - in fact, I'll be posting the first chapter of one of those ideas right around the same time as this.
Now then, onto this chapter.
Not much to say. This chapter marked the beginning of the Free Sirius Arc, as well as my first crack at a perspective other than Harry's. That's mostly for my benefit though, trying to get in the mindset of someone other than Harry as I will be writing a bit from Tonk's perspective for second year since the Damaging Duo will be separated.
Also, I'm sorry for the lack of humor in this section. I just couldn't get the funny to flow well with the Serious Sirius discussion - as a warning, I expect much of the same til we get Padfoot's situation worked out.
I'm also - once again - not entirely happy with the way this one ended, but got disgruntled with it and decided to just post it and fix it when I go back through to edit.
As always, thanks for reading.
