Sirius accompanied Lucius to the Ministry on Tuesday morning. He hadn't particularly wanted to, but as the blond man pointed out, he had a lot of sympathy in his favour right now so it would be the best time to get to know a few people and make some useful contacts, especially since he was officially Lord Black now and would be expected to take his seat on the Wizengamot, at least for any lawmaking sessions requiring at least a two-thirds majority vote. Lucius also said it would be understood that he would be unwilling to sit in judgment on criminal trials, at least for a time. Due to his own recent incarceration for someone else's deeds, he would be seen as being either too likely to be lenient on any alleged criminal, or if it was a suspected former Death Eater, he'd likely be too hard. So even though he was rather uncomfortable at going to the Ministry at all, the animagus put on his best robes and allowed his cousin by marriage to introduce him to any number of people whose names and faces were mostly a jumbled blur by the time he was finished.

A few did stand out, however, including Madam Bones of the DMLE. Partly because she offered him her personal apologies for not having paid enough attention eight years previously to have noticed he was sent to Azkaban without a trial, and partly because she asked his opinion on what sort of safeguards should be implemented to prevent such a thing from happening again, and even took notes of his answers. Minister Fudge also made an impression, although not for the reasons the politician likely hoped. Sirius managed to remain polite while Fudge effusively shook his hand and strongly hinted that he had been personally involved in getting him his trial. But since he already knew the whole story from Stephen, the animagus merely nodded and refrained from hexing the Minister into a squirrel. He also paused in his tour to wash his hands well immediately following his chat with the man.

Lucius smirked at him as he did so. "Feeling sullied, are we?" he asked, unable to resist needling his wife's cousin a bit.

"You apparently aren't," Sirius replied, rolling his eyes. "But then again, he wasn't trying to convince you that he was the one who came up with the brilliant scheme for getting me released."

"True enough," Lucius relented. "But he is useful for the moment, so I keep on his good side, at least for now. Fudge might not be especially effective, but he's still preferable to one of Dumbledore's sycophants."

"Also true," Sirius agreed.

Lucius hid his surprise, and wondered just what had changed the younger man's mind about Dumbledore. He knew Sirius had been a member of the old man's vigilante group back during the war, and had figured he would still be a supporter of the man. "Now I'm curious," he said.

Sirius gave a short bark of laughter. "I don't doubt. But it's nothing I care to share at the moment. I expect you'll hear about it in time, but now is not the time."

The blond bowed his head in acknowledgement. He couldn't blame Sirius for not fully trusting him yet, as they had been on opposite sides in the war, after all. Better to not push, and keep the tentative alliance slowly growing between them, than to allow his curiosity free rein and possibly sending Sirius fleeing back to Dumbledore's side. "Very well. Is there anyone else you'd care to see here?" he asked instead.

"Not here at the Ministry, no," Sirius said. "But I suppose I should issue some sort of statement to the press, shouldn't I? It's been a week now. I just have no real idea what to say."

Gryffindors! Lucius thought to himself. They never had any idea how to put ideas across in a way as to gain the most possible favor for themselves. He shrugged a bit. "Tell them how glad you are that the truth is finally out. Perhaps thank Madam Bones and Minister Fudge for their willingness to take the time to correct such an old mistake. And if you're asked what you intend doing in the future, just say that you're still recovering from your incarceration and considering your options."

"Oh," Sirius nodded. "Right. I can do that. Off to the Prophet offices, then?"

"You go on," Lucius said, checking his pocket watch. "I'm due in a meeting with Octavius Beltren, Edward Cavendish, and Walter Traverton in a quarter of an hour, to start hammering out a curriculum for the proposed wizarding culture class at Hogwarts. I'll see you back at the Manor for dinner."

Sirius nodded. "All right. Good luck with your meeting." He squared his shoulders and headed for the public floo.

"One word of advice," Lucius called before he could pick up the floo powder. "Ask to speak with either Matthew Twainbough or Eleanor Marchant at the Prophet. Avoid Rita Skeeter. The two I named can be trusted to report whatever you tell them without slanting it, while the Skeeter woman cannot."

"Thanks," Sirius smiled. "I'll do that." He tossed the floo powder in and stepped through as he called, "Main office of the Daily Prophet!"

When he stepped out at the Prophet's office, the receptionist greeted him politely and led him to a small conference room. A moment later, a tall witch with salt-and-pepper hair stepped inside. "Lord Black? I'm Eleanor Marchant, good to meet you."

Sirius stood. "A pleasure, Madam Marchant," he said with a bow.

She smiled and sat down. "Please, call me Eleanor. Informality is much more comfortable, especially when I'm working on a story."

He chuckled at that. "In that case, I'm Sirius. No pun intended… this time, anyway."

She laughed. "I suppose that one's been done to death by this time, yes. How are you adjusting to your newfound freedom?"

"Well, I'm certainly glad the truth came out at long last," Sirius said quietly. "And I'm grateful to Madam Bones and Minister Fudge for their willingness to give me a proper trial after all this time."

"I can imagine," Eleanor nodded. "I understand you were just getting started with the Auror Corps when you were arrested; do you plan to go back to that?"

He shook his head. "Not at the moment, anyway. For now, I'm going to need more time to recover fully from my incarceration before I could even consider taking on such an active profession again. I doubt I'd pass the physical exam just yet. So I'm considering my options and researching a couple of possible alternatives." He gave her a charming smile. "I'd prefer not to say what those are just yet, you understand. It's a personal superstition of mine… never tell anyone your ideas before you're ready to put them into action, or they might beat you to the punch."

She chuckled warmly. "Very well, I won't ask, then. What about your godson, Harry Potter? Will you seek out custody of him now that you're free?"

Sirius sighed at that. "I'd like to," he admitted. "But I don't know that it would be the best thing for him. I'm sure he's grown up hearing the same stories as everyone else who was unaware of the truth all these years. I'm sure he'll need time to adjust to the idea that I'm not the villain he's likely been raised to think me. But I will say for the record that I do wish I'd been able to be there for him all these years, and that I hope he'll consent to allow me into his life as his godfather and friend even if I'm not his guardian."

"I hope so too," Eleanor said sympathetically. She stood up again, offering him her hand. "And thank you, Sirius, for being willing to talk to me today."

He also stood, shaking the offered hand warmly. "You're welcome. You were recommended to me as being one of the most reliable reporters on staff here, and I have to say, you've lived up to what I've been told. You're not only comfortable to speak with, you know when not to push, too. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she said as she escorted him to the floo. She waited politely until he'd stepped through to head to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade, and returned to her desk to the congratulations of her fellow reporters on getting the interview with Sirius Black.

In Hogsmeade, Sirius stepped from the public floo in the Three Broomsticks to be greeted by an enthusiastic shriek and a hug from Rosemerta. "Sirius Black! Oh, it's good to see you!" she exclaimed.

Sirius laughed and hugged back. Like many Hogwarts alumni, he'd harbored a crush on the well-endowed landlady during his school days. "It's good to see you as well, Rosemerta," he said, planting a hearty buss on her cheek. "Stocking up on the butterbeer yet for the school year?"

"That I am," she nodded. "And I've made a few additions to the menu as well. So many of the Muggleborns have asked for the Yankee imports of tacos and nachos in the last five years, that I took a trip across the pond to learn to make them. Care to try one or both?"

He checked his watch. It was getting on to lunchtime, and he was getting hungry. "Sounds wonderful, I'll let you pick for me. And a gillywater with it, please. I'm going up to see Hagrid and get my motorbike back from him once I'm done, so much as I'd love a pint, I don't need one before driving."

She clucked at him as she bustled away to put in his food order and pour his drink. "I've said it for years, lad, you're going to kill yourself on that thing."

"It's no worse than being on a broom, and a lot less far to fall, you know," he told her with a winning smile as she brought his drink over. "And what will you be feeding me today?"

"Nachos," she said. "It's the bigger plate, so I figured you'd prefer it."

"Thanks, luv," he told her, taking a sip of his gillywater. "And are you sure I can't persuade you to come for a ride sometime?"

Rosemerta laughed. "Not hardly, you great prat," she said affectionately. "I'm a respectable witch, I am, and not one to go gallivanting around the countryside on some ridiculously loud Muggle contraption. And that's not even taking into account that I'm more than old enough to be your mum!"

Sirius heaved an exaggerated sigh, knowing they had an audience. "Ah, well, what can I say? You've broken my heart once again, luv. I suppose I shall just pine away quietly now." He batted his lashes at her while the others in the pub laughed and applauded.

"Go on with you!" Rosemerta chuckled, although her cheeks were faintly tinted red as she hurried over to refill a few pint glasses at the bar. A few minutes later she brought over a steaming platter piled high with something that looked like crisps layered with spiced ground beef, melted cheese, a brown substance he couldn't begin to identify, slices of small green things he also didn't recognize, shredded lettuce and diced tomatoes, plus two bowls on the side, one filled with sour cream and the other with some sort of chunky tomato-based relish. "Here you go, lad. Just so you know, the little green things are holly… hally… hally-pain-yos. They're a kind of hot pepper. If you like your curry, you'll probably like them, but a few people have been surprised, so I like to let folks know the first time they try the nachos."

"It looks and smells wonderful," Sirius smiled, and dug right in. "Mmm…" he commented through his first bite. He swallowed and beamed. "No wonder so many of the kids were asking for this." Rosemerta smiled at the compliment and went back to the bar as he set about demolishing his lunch. After paying up, he headed out to Hogwarts.

Once he got beyond the village proper, he paused in a wooded spot and shifted to his animagus form, knowing that as out of shape as he was, he'd make better time as a dog. Soon enough, he loped through the gates and headed up the drive towards the castle. A bizarre-looking woman with a multitude of gauzy and glittery shawls draped about her and with glasses that made her eyes appear twice their normal size emerged just as he was trotting past the main doors on his way around back to Hagrid's hut.

She gasped, "The Grim! Oh, Circe!" and fled back inside.

Sirius gave a doggy grin and just kept going until he got to Hagrid's pumpkin patch, where he shifted back smoothly to his human self. He was still snickering as he rapped on Hagrid's door.

The half-giant opened the door, shoving his boarhound away as usual. "Back, Fang! What kin I do fer… Sirius Black! Ya didn't tell me ya was comin' today! It's great ta see ya!" He patted the smaller man on the back.

Sirius hid a wince at Hagrid's 'gentle' greeting. "I didn't know I was going to be able to come today," he explained. "But I finished up my morning's errands sooner than I expected, and I knew you'd most likely be here getting the gardens ready for school to open, so I took the chance of coming up unannounced."

"It ain't a problem," Hagrid reassured him. "I jus' woulda made rock cakes or sumpin' if I'da known ya were comin', tha's all."

"I can't really stay, though," Sirius pointed out, hiding a shudder at the thought of Hagrid's cooking. "Even with the… special features… on the bike, it's still a long ways back to where I'm living right now."

"Oh… I 'adn't thoughta that," Hagrid admitted. "Still, ya coulda took some wit' ya… eh, guess it don't matter now. I shined up yer bike fer ya when I got yer letter, and stored it in the shed so it'd stay nice until ya came." Nudging Fang aside with his knee, Hagrid led Sirius over to one of the little outbuildings dotting the area around the vegetable gardens. He opened the door and stepped inside, wheeling the motorcycle out a moment later. "'Ere ya go!"

Sirius stepped up and ran his hand lovingly over the handlebars and fuel tank. He'd paid through the nose to get his hands on the first of the 1981 model year Harley Davidson FLHCs to be imported, and then spent a good chunk of his free time adding in a few wizarding features such as flight, disillusionment, and cushioning charms in case of accident. "Merlin, I've missed this," he murmured. "Hagrid, I owe you, man, for taking such good care of it for me."

The half-giant turned red. "Eh, twarn't nothin'," he mumbled. "I got ta ride it sometimes since I had it, after all."

"I still owe you," Sirius affirmed. "Let me buy you one of your own? That way you can enjoy riding even though I'm taking this one back.

Hagrid wavered, obviously tempted. "Ya sure? Don't they cost a lot?"

Sirius smiled. "They're not cheap, but I'm the last of the Blacks. Got almost as much as the Malfoys. You've stored my bike for almost eight years, kept it running and looking good, you deserve something nice for that."

"Well… arright, ya kin buy me a bike if ya want," Hagrid capitulated. He really did want one of his own, especially since he was too big to fly on a broom. "But only 'cause I know ya can't get me a dragon!" he laughed.

"You never change," Sirius laughed as well. "You and your love for dragons."

"They're beautiful!" Hagrid said.

"Yeah, they are," Sirius agreed. He did think dragons were beautiful… as long as they were at least a couple hundred yards away. "I better get going, though, so I'll make it back for dinner. Write and let me know when you want to go looking for a bike for yourself, Hagrid, and we'll make a day of it."

"I will!" Hagrid called as he headed back to his hut. "See ya soon!"

Sirius mounted the bike and started it up, reveling in the powerful feeling of the big engine rumbling to life. Out of courtesy to those dwelling within the castle, he kept his speed down until he was outside the Hogwarts gates once more, then he opened up the throttle and took the machine to top speed before engaging the disillusionment and flight features so he could make it back to Wiltshire and Malfoy Manor in time for dinner. As the bike rose gently into the air, he breathed a silent sigh of relief that he'd gotten in and out of Hogwarts without having come face to face with Dumbledore.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile in Surrey, a young woman hurried into her flat, dropping her bags of groceries in an effort to grab the telephone before whoever was calling gave up. "Hello?" she said breathlessly.

"Please hold for the Princess of Wales," a smooth voice said on the other end. There was a click, and then Diana's voice came over the line, "Pammy? I'm so glad I was able to reach you. Have you got a little while to chat?"

Pamela St. Claire nodded automatically. It had been enough of a surprise when Di had stopped in at the school with her sons back last May, but she certainly hadn't expected her former co-worker to keep up the contact. "I… yes, just let me put the milk away, I just came in from the market," she babbled.

"Of course, don't let your food spoil," Di said with a smile. "I'll hold on."

Pamela set the phone down carefully and dashed back to her dropped bags, picking up the milk and a package of chicken and cramming them haphazardly into her refrigerator. Leaving the dry cereals and the canned goods where they'd fallen, she hurried back to grab the phone once more. "All right, I'm back. This is quite a surprise, as I'm sure you can tell."

Di laughed. "I'm sure of that! I suppose I should have gone through 'proper channels' and written to your headmistress and all that rot, but I'm seeking some information and it seemed much easier as well as faster to go through someone I know, rather than go through the process of making a formal inquiry for something relatively small."

"Information? Well, of course I'll help any way I can, Your Highness, but what sort of information can I possibly offer you?" Pamela asked.

"I need to know your coming year's term and holiday schedule, that's all," Diana replied. "You heard about what happened when I was there last May visiting your class, right?"

Pamela thought back "Oh, right! It was the talk of the staffroom that day, about the little Princes sneaking out to the playground and making friends with the Potter child, of all people."

Diana blinked. "Did no one mention that the Potter lad stepped between my little Harry and a much larger bully who tried to hit him? Said bully had already hit Wills and knocked him over, and the Potter boy took the blow aimed at Harry."

"Really, Di? Er… your Highness." That shocked Pamela. "None of the children said anything about there being a fight, and neither did the schoolyard monitor. Although in fairness, she likely was too busy trying to get a glimpse of you to have been truly attentive that day. You're sure this other child is an actual bully, and it wasn't just a squabble of some sort?"

"Oh, we're sure, Pammy," Di said. "Does the name Dudley Dursley sound familiar at all?"

"Oh dear, really?" Pamela asked. "Several of us have suspected him of bullying, but we've never managed to catch him at it. What's more, he's the Potter boy's cousin and they live in the same home. Mrs. Dursley has always given us to believe that the Potter boy is something of a troublemaker and a liar, actually. Certainly there have been some strange happenings around him. Would you believe he climbed onto the roof somehow, and then lied about how he got up there?"

Diana sighed. "It's quite the other way 'round, actually," she told her former co-worker. "Her Majesty had some investigations done, and the fact is, the Dursleys may have taken in the Potter lad out of family obligation, but they never especially wanted him, and quite frankly, have encouraged their son's bullying ways. That time the boy wound up on the roof, did you know it was because he was desperately trying to get away from the Dursley boy and some of his little followers who were chasing him. I don't doubt he wasn't able to recall climbing up there, because he was terrified… they were planning on beating him up for their own amusement."

Pamela frowned. "I feel terrible now," she admitted. "The Potter boy isn't the best of students, and so it was easy to dismiss him as just another layabout troublemaker, you know? Especially when the Dursleys always made themselves out to be such concerned parents."

"Concerned for their own son, maybe," Diana snorted, not caring how undignified she sounded. "But not for their nephew. I've spoken to the Potter child, and he's much brighter than you might think. But he got in trouble at home when he brought home better marks than his cousin, so he learned to skive off his lessons so as to spare himself punishment. Oh, and on top of that, his 'loving' relatives refused to get him the proper glasses, so I expect half the time he couldn't properly read his assignments."

Pamela winced. "I'm guessing your interest in the school term schedule has something to do with the Potter boy, then?" she asked.

Di nodded automatically. "Yes. Her Majesty called the Dursley family to a private audience to take them to task about their son's actions towards Wills and Harry, and also to thank the Potter lad. She's gone so far as to engage a sort of tutor for him, as she discovered the boy's father was actually a knight… something else Mrs. Dursley refuses to acknowledge or believe, mind. Anyway, my lads want to spend more time with their new friend the Potter boy, and Her Majesty said it would be acceptable for me to include him when I take my sons on trips around the country and also have him out to Highgrove to play over term breaks and holidays. So I'm hoping your school's schedule matches up with Wetherby School's schedule."

Pamela moved over to her desk, pausing to untangle the phone cord before it knocked over a stack of lesson plans. "I've got the schedule here somewhere… ah, here it is." She gave the pertinent dates to Diana.

"Perfect, they do match," Di sounded pleased. "Also, may I give you my private-access number, and ask you to call each week during school and let me know how the Potter boy is doing? I know he isn't in your class this year, but I remember from our time at Young England just how quickly gossip gets 'round in the staffroom. I have an answerphone on my private line, so even if I'm away when you ring me up, you can leave a message. Will you do this for me?"

"Of course!" Pamela was quite happy to be asked. The favor was easy enough, and being able to brag that she knew Princess Di's private number would give her a social boost even larger than the one she'd gotten when Di had stopped by the school to say hello last May. She quickly jotted down the number Diana gave her. "Is there anything in particular you'd want to know about the boy?"

Diana considered. "Just generalities," she decided. "You know… does he look well, how is he doing in his studies, mainly that sort of thing. And of course, I'd appreciate a quiet word put about that the Dursley boy is the real troublemaker of that family, so that the rest of the teachers, particularly their teachers, know which one of the two they ought to be watching more closely."

"Absolutely," Pamela promised. "Expect my first call on 1 September, then, since that's the first day of school. And each Friday thereafter."

"Thanks ever so much, Pammy," Di said, the smile on her face audible in her voice. "I've got to go now, but I'm so glad you're able to help me out with this."

"You're welcome, D… ah, your Highness."

"It's still Di to you, at least over the phone," the princess replied with a chuckle. "Believe me, it's lovely to hear people who still remember that I have a name. Talk to you in a couple of weeks!" She hung up.

Pamela hung up on her end as well and went to collect the rest of her fallen groceries and put them away, smiling widely.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Elsewhere in Surrey, Harry was just washing up after weeding the front garden when the washroom door slammed open. Next thing he knew, his head cracked into the faucet hard enough to open a new cut right over his scar, courtesy of a blow from Dudley.

"Aww, the stupid freak slipped," Dudley announced to the audience behind him… Piers Polkiss, of course, and Malcom and Gordon and Kevin. They all snickered appreciatively before thundering downstairs and into the sitting room.

Harry heard the telly come on, followed by the distinctive sound of Dudley's latest video game starting up. He sighed and held a wad of loo roll to his bleeding forehead with one hand, while rummaging for the Elastoplast box with the other. He managed to stop the bleeding and get himself bandaged up, then he cleaned the sink and faucet where he'd bled so that Aunt Petunia wouldn't scold.

He stopped in his room to grab his notebook and hurried out the door while Dudley and his gang were busy with the video game. Settling into an easy jog, he headed towards his school, and to the martial arts studios nearby. According to his notes, they would both be open at this time of day, and he wanted to see what they were like.

He found the tae kwon do studio first, and slipped inside. Several women who looked about the same age as Aunt Petunia were sitting in a sort of lounge area near the front with a railing separating it from the class space and a sort of reception desk near the gap in the railing. Most were reading, one was knitting, and a couple were watching the class in progress. He also noticed that only the women had shoes on; the students and the teachers out on the floor were all barefoot. He thought about that for a moment, but decided to leave his trainers on for the time being and simply took a seat to wait for the class to end.

He observed the class as he waited, and liked what he saw. The person who appeared to be in charge was a diminutive Asian man with a sprinkling of grey in his hair, who seemed very patient with the smallest of the students in the class. The two that Harry thought might be assistant teachers looked younger, one also looked Asian while the other looked British. They addressed the older man quite respectfully, and were quick to jump in and help the bigger students when needed, although they were more likely to demonstrate at slow speed what they wanted the student to do, rather than physically guide the child into the correct position and motion. When the class came to an end, the students stood and bowed to the trio of instructors, who bowed back. Only then did the children dash over to the waiting area and grab their shoes from under seats while chattering excitedly to their mothers.

Harry took a deep breath when the British-looking instructor moved out to the reception desk and checked what seemed to be a schedule pad. "Excuse me, sir?" he asked shyly.

The man looked up and gave him a friendly smile. "Hello, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"I… I'm considering taking a martial arts class this year," Harry said softly. "But I don't really know much about martial arts. I wondered if you could tell me a little more about tae kwon do and how everything works here, please?"

Eric Fossey looked the young boy over as he nodded. "I can do that," he said. "Please remove your shoes and leave them under one of the seats in the waiting area, so I can give you a tour of the dojang… the school."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. He moved over to a vacant seat and removed his trainers, neatly placing them under the chair. "May I bring my notebook and biro with me? Or should they stay here too?"

"Leave them for now," the man said. "The tour won't take too long, and I have some handouts that should have most of the answers you're likely to want already printed up to give to potential students. I'm Mr. Fossey, by the way." He watched as the boy tucked his notebook and biro safely under his trainers.

"I'm Harry Potter," the boy replied as he approached the desk again.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter," the teacher said, leading Harry beyond the railing. "And this is the head of the dojang, Master Soong, and senior instructor Mr. Kim.

The older man and the younger one bowed to Harry as they were introduced. A little uncertainly, he bowed back to each of them, earning an approving glance from the older man, Master Soong. "I will take the child from here," the old man announced.

"I'm honored, sir," Harry said shyly, a little disconcerted by all the attention. But since they were currently the only four people in the school, at least that he could see, there was no help for that.

"Why do you wish to study tae kwon do?" Master Soong asked. He reached out and rested a gentle finger against the Elastoplast on Harry's forehead and the bruise beginning to form around it. "Because no martial arts can magically make you able to fight off a bully, you know. Someone larger and heavier than you will still be able to beat you up once they knock you down, despite what the cinema would have you think."

Harry bit his lip. "Oh… well, that is why my tutor suggested it. But… well, I'm used to avoiding my cousin most of the time anyway. And if I'm not home as often, that will just give me less time around him for him to try to get me. Also, in my research into martial arts, most of them talked about a fillo… filla…"

"Philosophy?" Master Soong put in, one brow upraised as he studied the boy with new interest.

"Yes, philosophy, thank you," Harry nodded. "A way of living in harmony and balance. I don't exactly understand it in a way I can explain, but it made it sound a little like the yoga I do now." He grinned, "Only fast where yoga is slow. But the encyclopaedia said tae kwon do teaches discipline, and that's something everyone needs, right?"

"That is true, Mr. Potter. Everyone needs discipline." He brought Harry around the training floor, showing him the punching bag and the board-breaking area as well as the main workout space. At the rear, there was a pair of small locker rooms with attached loos and showers. "Some of our older students have to go to their jobs from here," he explained, "so we put in a space where they could clean up before they leave."

"That makes sense," Harry nodded.

Master Soong smiled. "Now, about tae kwon do itself…" Moving back to the waiting area, he spent perhaps half an hour giving Harry an overview of the practice and its philosophy, becoming more pleased as the boy listened attentively and showed it by asking intelligent questions and even taking notes. Usually from children as young as this, the questions were confined to ones such as 'How soon before I can learn to do moves like in XYZ film?' When the lecture was finished, he smiled and went over to the desk, pulling out a fairly thick folder with various informational papers within… schedules of classes, rules of the dojang, costs of classes, fees for tests, average amount of time between tests, even information about the dojang's insurance policy.

Harry accepted the folder with a smile. "Thank you, Master Soong," he said politely.

"I hope you do choose to return here, Mr. Potter," the man said with a smile. "I believe you would be a valuable addition to the dojang, as well as a pleasure to teach."

"Thank you again, Master Soong," Harry said, blushing beet red. "If I choose to come here, I will do my best to learn well." Unsure of what to do next, he bowed awkwardly and sat down to put his trainers back on before slipping out the door.

He made his way over to the shotokan karate school, but was less than impressed as he walked in the door. The single teacher here was barking orders at the class and obviously belittling one boy who was having trouble with a particular movement. The waiting area looked as though it hadn't been cleaned in a while and smelled of old cigarettes. Three older boys argued over a Space Invaders game to one side, while a fourth was kicking at a vending machine and swearing because it took his money without giving him a drink. He didn't bother to look for anyone to answer questions; it was readily apparent that this particular school was looking for money and didn't actually care about the students.

He'd discuss it with Stephen and Sirius this weekend, but he was pretty sure he'd be signing up for tae kwon do classes in a couple of weeks.