Harry Potter and the Deus Ex Machina

by Karmic Acumen

It was a normal day, until newly turned 8 year-old Harry Potter decided to make a wish upon the dog star (even though he'd almost never actually seen it) and set off something in the Unlabeled Room in the Department of Mysteries. Turns out Dumbledore was wrong. Again. It wasn't love that the Unspeakables were studying down there.

21. Chapter 20: Unknowingly Far-Reaching

A/N: Here it is, the final chapter. I hope it lives up to your expectations.

There will be an epilogue (kind of a chapter 21, but I do think it will qualify as an epilogue well enough). Feel free to use the review space to point out whatever loose threads you found. I'll see about addressing them.

Keep in mind, however, that I have a sequel planned. On that note, you may start guessing what it will be about.

---

Chapter 20: Unknowingly Far-Reaching

"-. .-"

As soon as he and his brother finally reached the "small" family dining room, Sirius realized some measures had to be taken to make the setting more appropriate to a child's first meal in a new home with new people. For one thing, even though that was supposed to be the informal meal room, there was still an air of aloofness. Somehow, the theme, the decorations on the walls, the gilded, rectangular table that was deliberately large to ensure a certain distance between everyone seated…

Yep. It was clear that none of that was going to fly. Sirius idly wondered how no one had commented on it before. Then again, they all, even Marius, were accustomed to the room by that point, and they were Blacks, used to a certain level of elegance even when no one was dwelling on protocol. It was the one reason he didn't just decide to have them all eat in the kitchen.

With a flick of his wrist, Sirius made his wand shoot into his hand. Tilting his head in consideration, he swiped his hand in the air, as if to encompass the whole room from his position at the door. The eight straight-back chairs slid away from the table. Three of them flew to a corner, and they were lost to sight behind a folding screen that Sirius conjured just for the purpose of hiding them from sight.

With careful movements, he traced a pattern with his wand, then focused on the table. The long, wide piece of furniture flickered and contracted, leaving behind a much smaller but just as elegant, though understatedly so, round table. It was much smaller than the normal form, but large enough that they all would fit comfortably without jostling for elbow room.

Nodding in satisfaction, he swiped his wand again. The five chairs still loitering about took their places around the table. Pondering a moment longer, Sirius nonverbally summoned a simple but immaculate table cloth. It came flying from outside the room not long after, and the wizard guided it above the table, where it unraveled and settled over it, losing all creases as it did so.

That left just the walls and ceiling, but before Sirius could do more than look at them the candles on the chandelier vanished, only to be replaced by globes of translucent, white glass a moment after. Glancing back, he saw Regulus casting, having obviously picked up on his thoughts. The younger black finished transfiguring the chandelier to look more like something less out of an old fairy tale. It would do for an image, since they didn't need to even summon light inside the white globes. The large window across the room from the door allowed much light to stream in. August 1 was turning out to be surprisingly bright given what London weather was usually like.

They wouldn't make it a habit of changing rooms in advance of Harry walking into them, but for the first day they figured it wouldn't hurt to try and minimize the culture shock.

"So, what did they say? Whoever you were talking to on the phone I mean," Sirius asked.

"They'd call me back, but I have a good feeling about this."

"Hmm."

Minutes later, Sirius called Kreacher and sent him to notify the others that it was time to come down for lunch. The elf popped away to do as instructed. No doubt Marius would have explained about elves by now.

The two brothers spent the next few minutes putting some finishing touches on the room. By the time the other three made it down, they were quite satisfied with the bright and clear room and the warm atmosphere, quite unlike the somewhat more neutral, impersonal feel of before.

Their casting also concluded with Sirius being out of the immediate sight of those coming through the door, which had the effect of finally allowing Harry to spot Regulus and stare at him. The poor kid started to fidget in place, but he was unable to stop staring. That did it, Sirius thought with hidden amusement. He'd definitely have to keep up those gazing lessons.

Idly, Sirius Black remembered how completely oblivious Harry had been to Regulus' presence when they met in the study earlier. It made him feel really good, that his godson was so focused on him that he didn't register anyone else. Although he supposed that was a selfish and unfair thought.

Then again, given the way Harry was now looking at Regulus with something between hero worship and embarrassed bafflement (maybe at not having paid any attention to him earlier?), Sirius figured Regulus had no problem with having been ignored before.

Regulus hid a smile, though Sirius wasn't sure how he knew that. "Hello there."

"Hi." Harry said back. "You're Regulus Black aren't you?"

"Yes." The young man began to summon and levitate tableware. "I take it you finally noticed that I exist?" He asked dryly.

Ah, so it did bother him. Good to know.

Harry mumbled something, looking down. Sirius could see his godson's skin go pinker than usual. He was embarrassed. Heh.

"Little one." Marius called from behind him. "What did I say about speaking your mind?"

Well, this would be good. Sirius even noticed Pollux smirking and shaking his head from where he was, just outside the door. "Erm… to not be afraid to do it… because being afraid you-you'd be angry at me would be the same as me thinking you're li-like the Dursleys and… that would be insulting?"

"That's right. Unless you're about to be rude just for the sake of being rude, but I doubt you were going to, right?"

Sirius blinked. Well. He'd have to remember that one.

Harry took a deep breath and looked up at Regulus, who was looking down at him even as he continued to float silverware to the table. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you, but... I guess I had trouble believing you were there…? I-In the same room with me I mean." He floundered, then rubbed the back of his head in what was becoming a habit. "It's just… I've never met a superhero before."

Sirius apparated to the Hall of Black just so he could burst out laughing. The void seemed to vibrate in concert with his undisguised mirth. The look on his brother face! And the way he lost concentration and made all the table spoons and forks fall everywhere with so much noise… And the way he'd stumbled without even walking at the time was all just so utterly hilarious.

Master of Occlumency. Hah!

"-. .-"

Sirius managed to get himself under control eventually, so he translocated back to the dining room. He was just in time to see everyone settling in their seats. Even Pollux knew by now that he shouldn't hold to protocol unless it was a formal occasion. Which was to say, they didn't need to wait for the head of house to show up and take a seat first.

The wizard was pleased to see that they'd left the chair on Harry's left side free. That put Pollux on Sirius' other side, which was just as well. As he stepped around the table to take his place at it, Lord Black stretched his awareness over the man, examined him, much like he had during their union all those weeks ago. It wasn't as deep, the glimpse, but it was enough to confirm that his grandfather was well on his way to completely regaining his health. And the improvement was marked, compared to that last time he'd done it, several days before.

Curiously, Regulus was the other person next to Harry, not Marius, who was right across from the boy, more or less.

Sirius didn't miss the chance to tousle Harry's hair as he passed him by, and he let his hand linger on his godson head when he seemed to lean into it without realizing it. "So, did you two finally introduce yourselves properly?"

Regulus tossed him a one-eyed glance over Harry's head. "You and I will need to have a talk later."

With some reluctance, Sirius finally pulled his hand away. "I never once stated any false opinion about you during my verbal dealings with Harry." It was a perfectly flat statement, though Sirius made sure to look anywhere but at him as he delivered it. "Besides, I don't think I need to tell you again what I feel about what you've done with your life." He saw the long-suffering shake of the head that his sibling made, from the corner of his eye, but Sirius decided to focus on something else instead.

Like the food. Kreacher had really outdone himself this time. The table had been transfigured, sure, but it was still pretty big, and yet it was still utterly loaded with different dishes. There was everything from fish and chips to roasted turkey, and from green salad to milk and cookies.

Poor Harry looked completely overwhelmed.

Luckily, between himself and Marius they managed to coax him into having a little bit of everything. It was a bit hard at first, but after they got him to point at what interested him, he and Regulus started to levitate bits and pieces of intended meal to his plate, pushing aside hesitance with wonder. Then Sirius made it even better by tapping Harry's chair with his wand and making its feet grow, until his godson was actually high enough to eat comfortably.

Hopefully, by the time Harry's wide-eyed reverence for every minor magic trick waned, so would his standoffishness.

It was five minutes in that Sirius noticed it. Harry's movements were… staggered, if that was the right word. As if he was unsure he was doing it properly… ah, then he saw it. Poor kid was sneaking glances in the direction of Marius and Pollux, trying to copy their table manners without being obvious about it. Sirius almost felt annoyed, before he realized that his grandfather and uncle weren't being stiff and formal on purpose. They weren't stiff at all actually. They just ate the way that was the most comfortable to them. That it just happened to be the one that those in the high class cultivated was pure coincidence.

Sirius blinked. Then blinked again. Those two… their table manners were so alike. It made the young Lord Black almost shake his head. It figured that he'd spend months having trouble believing those two were brothers, only for something so mundane to make him realize he was just being needlessly disbelieving about it.

Willing his thoughts back to the present, he decided to try and make small talk. It worked easily enough… between himself and the other adults anyway. But, little by little, they managed to draw Harry into the conversation. Much to Sirius' surprise, Pollux managed to break through his hesitance, when he brought up the topic of astronomy. One thing led to another, and soon enough Pollux was regaling everyone with the stories behind the meaning of each of their names. How their respective parents –Harry's extended family- had decided on them (some were edited versions), and even the myths behind the names of the stars and constellations. He even got Harry to take turns with him at telling about the myths behind each star.

It was a very shy Harry Potter that talked about the meaning of the star Sirius, looking down at his plate. The older of the two youngest Blacks was astounded to discover that Harry knew everything worth knowing about the star that was his namesake, including that it was a portent of misfortune in ancient days. "Sirius rises late in the dark, liquid sky, On summer nights, star of stars, Orion's Dog they call it, brightest Of all, but an evil portent, bringing heat, And fevers to suffering humanity." Sirius stared dumbly as Harry recited from Homer's Illiad, of all things. Then his eyes got a bit misty when Harry quietly said he didn't agree with the myth at all.

He wanted to pick Harry up and hug the stuffing out of him right then and there, but he settled for a far more tempered pat on the head instead. And for the next few minutes, Sirius didn't speak at all, because he didn't trust his mouth not to run away from him and say something stupid.

Like that he actually did agree with the myth, because he had brought nothing but misery to everyone. Sowing discord in his parents' house since he learned to walk and talk. Driving the stake of ire further by distancing himself from his blood family during school. Leaving home and ignoring his brother, essentially pushing him into the service of a madman by making it seem like he had no alternative.

Insinuating himself into another family, only to thank them by bringing death on them, and years of misery upon their son and heir, whom he'd sworn to watch over in case things went to hell.

His mood didn't show on his face, but it was felt by the others, even if they didn't identify the source. Conversation got increasingly stilted, and it would have died down completely if the unfelt tension didn't result in something else first.

Harry had finished the first course and made to eat from a cookie, only to bite more than he could chew.

Bits of it broke off. Fell.

Harry fumbled, reflexively trying to catch them, but his erratic lunge only caused the errant piece to roll away, and his inner forearm hit his glass of milk and spilled it over his plate and the table.

Harry went unnaturally still when all four grownups suddenly pinned him with their eyes. Deathly quiet. It was just human nature to instantly focus on the disturbance, but that didn't really help the one that attracted attention that way.

Sirius looked at his godson, frozen mid-lunge. Staring, mortified, at the milk, still soaking in the table cloth, dripping off the edge of his plate and the glass. He knew what he was seeing, and it made his anger bubble and fester. Made him want to go after the Dursleys themselves. Harry was clearly expecting someone to snap at him, to yell, to call him a useless boy, worthless freak or variation thereof. Maybe even strike him.

It made him sigh.

Harry slowly pulled his hand away and lowered his head, but his muscles tensed. He was coiled like a spring.

Sirius wanted to punch himself in the mouth. Harry had taken his sigh completely the wrong way. He wanted to reach for him, brush that tension away, but he didn't want that to be taken the wrong way too. "Harry. Look at me."

"I'm sorry!" The boy looked up, frantic. "I didn't mean to be so clumsy! I'll clean it up-"

"Harry!"

His mouth clamped shut.

Sirius sighed again, but made sure to meet his godson's gaze. "Did you do it on purpose?"

"No." It was a small, faint voice. As if he didn't expect to be believed.

"Then there's no harm done. You're in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. Obviously, you're a little high strung, so accidents can happen." With a flick of his wand, he vanished the milk-sodden food on Harry's plate, only to want to punch himself again when his godson's expression fell.

The surveillance team had counted all instances of the Dursleys' habitual punishments. Withholding food was first on the list by far.

Sirius pretended not to notice as he began to load Harry's plate with more or less what was on it before, cookies and all. Treacle tart too, that was a must.

He'd made his point. He could see it on Harry's face. Unfortunately, he'd apparently made it a bit too well, because Harry ducked his head again and immediately looked ashamed of reacting that way. Sirius wondered why… until he remembered what Marius had reminded him of when they came through the dining room door. That he should never assume they were like his aunt and uncle. But Harry had, even if it wasn't his fault, and now he was feeling stupid because of it.

Sirius wanted to rub his eyes in frustration. They didn't need this, Harry didn't need this so soon after getting away from that shithole-

"Harry." Sirius' attention snapped to Marius, who was looking at Harry who was looking right back. "Come here." The old lawyer motioned for Harry to walk over to him.

Even withdrawn as he was, Harry still hesitantly looked at Sirius for permission. It made something in the young lord's chest constrict painfully. Made him realize that for all his intellectual understanding, Harry recognized him, emotionally, only as a replacement authority that must be obeyed. He couldn't, didn't dare believe he was done with prejudice yet. Somehow, he was still afraid Sirius would turn out in some measure like them, because he, Harry James Potter, didn't really deserve any better.

Not showing anything openly, he pat Harry on the head a few times. He was relieved to feel him relax a bit. "Go ahead. It's okay." Sirius' tone didn't even hint at what was really going on in his head. "Your plate will still be here when you come back."

Harry carefully dismounted his chair and meekly circled the table, around Regulus chair, until he was next to Marius…

… who didn't even give him a second to wonder why he'd been told to walk over there. The man turned and picked Harry up without even asking permission.

A moment later, Harry Potter was seated side-ways on his "grandpa's" knee again, like he'd been during their lesson on gazing. "Now," Marius said seriously. "Your one mistake was trying to emulate our manners without actually knowing what manners are."

The kid opened his mouth-

-and closed it when Marius lifted a finger to stop him from speaking. "-And I don't mean the textbook definition." It was actually a good sign that Harry wasn't too terrified to react defensively. "The definition is just half of it. The other half is something most kids hate, but need to muddle through anyway. Can you guess what it is?" Harry frowned, trying to figure it out, but ultimately shook his head. "Well I'll tell you. The answer is history."

Sirius blinked. Then blinked again.

Harry only blinked once, but it was enough.

"Let me put it this way." Marius had Harry's full attention already. "Why do you think table manners exist? They didn't suddenly all show up, it was a gradual thing, but why do you think they came to be? Because 1: they make you look nice and proper. And 2: they prevent you from making a mess of yourself and the surrounding area."

Sirius almost snorted. The way he said "surrounding area" made it sound like he expected the whole room to explode or something.

Then again, there had been that one time in fifth year, in the Hogwarts great hall, when no inch of the left wall below 3 meters high had been left untouched after the Valentine's day chocolate cakes at the Slytherin table had all exploded.

Ah. Good times.

But Marius was still talking. "There's a third reason manners exist, though, one that many people, as baffling as it is, forget." Sirius's ears went taut, much like a dog's would. "Thing is, manners are also supposed to maximize your enjoyment of each morsel you chew."

Harry looked dubious. Sirius could understand his disbelief.

But the old lawyer ploughed on. "Take cookies for example," Marius lectured, "The thing about cookies is that there are two ways to eat them, depending on their consistency." Reaching for the cookie platter, he picked up a soft Cornish fairing, not unlike the one Harry had failed to devour properly earlier. "This, for example, is a soft cookie. That means you don't use your teeth as leverage to break it, like you tried earlier, because that's liable to make it crumble." Harry's ears went pink, but he kept his eyes on the confectionary. "Soft cookies also tend to have a stronger flavor, which means that you have to nibble on them instead of biting them one big chunk at a time."

Sirius exchanged a bewildered look with Regulus, then tried to do the same with Pollux but the old man wasn't looking in his direction so he didn't reciprocate. He was gazing at those two instead.

Marius ignored them all. "So, can you tell me why that is?"

"Umm…" Harry thought for half a minute. "Because it would be like eating too much at once?"

Marius smiled proudly. "That's a good comparison. You can get fed up with the flavor and regret it later, when you wish you'd had more than one or two. If you nibble, though, you get to enjoy the flavor for longer, and you don't get sick of it as fast, if at all. Now, here. Try again."

Harry accepted the large cookie with both hands and hesitantly took a small bite out of it. When no disasters happened, and not even a crumb fell, tension seemed to drain from him. Soon, he was properly nibbling.

Across the empty chair from Sirius, Regulus pointedly reached for a similar cookie and began to elegantly partake of it with a single hand. It even made Sirius somewhat envious. It shouldn't be possible for cookies and the action of eating them to be elegant, but there it was.

Over the next five minutes, Sirius ate from his second bowl of chicken soup while keeping an eye on how Harry snuck glances from Regulus to Marius and back, gradually adopting their mannerisms when it came to the Fine Art of Cookie Consumption. Then, at some point, Harry gathered enough courage to ask exactly what all the different forks, knives and spoons were meant for, and Marius easily answered every question.

Lord Black wondered if he should feel envious of that interaction, but he didn't so he figured the question was irrelevant. Harry seemed to be feeling at ease, and Sirius didn't really hope for much else yet. Sending some unobtrusive glances around, he noted that Regulus was calmly participating in the conversation even though he was mostly reactive. Sirius also registered the almost unnoticeably slumped posture of Pollux, on his left.

Wait a second.

Turning to behold his grandfather, Sirius noticed the pained expression on his face. It was very, very slight, and he probably wouldn't have known what it was if his connection with House Black didn't give him a better level of empathy than he had before taking lordship.

Concerned, Sirius reached out and placed his hand over his. "Grandfather." Startled out of whatever revelry he was in, Pollux Black met his eyes. "Are you feeling unwell? Will you need a potion or help going back upstairs?" The man wasn't all well yet, and if his blood pressure rose his blood vessels could burst. And it wasn't exactly painless even if they didn't.

Not for the first time, Sirius marveled at the fact that he actually was close to all his relatives now.

Pollux' gaze softened into something sad and somber. "No. Physically I feel fine, as I keep telling you, Andromeda and Edward." He'd made it clear that he thought "Ted" was not a worthy name, so of course he wasn't about to consider it a proper nickname either.

"You didn't look fine just now." And he hoped it wasn't because he found the previous events unsightly for a member of the House of Black.

Pollux leaned back in his chair, melancholy making him pick at his eggs and bacon with his fork. "It's… hard to watch, that's all."

Ah. So it was that he didn't like what he was seeing.

Sirius frowned. Trying not to be too obvious (though he could feel Regulus' gaze on him), he traced his wand under the table and weaved a low-grade privacy ward that would allow him and Pollux to speak without the others hearing. "What's wrong?" His words were soft. He knew Harry wasn't exactly as emotionally developed or graceful as a noble scion at the age of 8 should be, but he also knew Pollux knew better than to expect that of him.

Which meant his grandfather was affected by something else.

The old wizard sighed. "You know our history. Of Arcturus' two children, one was murdered by one of mine and the other left with her husband Ignatius Prewett and never looked back. Of the three I had, the good one was murdered, my daughter went insane and, well, you know what she did. And my other son killed himself because he was too much of a coward to take responsibility for the crimes he committed."

Sirius grimaced. This didn't sound like something worth discussing at the table. He was glad for the privacy charm he'd cast.

"Dorea was murdered with Charlus, all those years ago," Sirius was taken aback by the sadness there. He'd never given it much thought, but now he was ashamed. Pollux had been as much Dorea's brother as Marius had. "And her son, too, was murdered along with his wife. Everyone worth anything of our family, even your generation besides you, Andromeda and your brother, were killed. And all of you had something horrible happen to you."

The younger wizard decided against interrupting, and he was glad for it.

Pollux indicated across the table with his fork. "Harry himself got a really raw deal, orphaned and chugged in a cage with dumb and malicious animals. That leaves Marius, but even he got disowned for not having magic, had to struggle for years. But I thought his life had turned out okay, you know? And now, look at him." Pollux dropped his fork, used his free hand to rub his eyes, then propped the right side of his face on his palm. "The one person in our generation that would have actually managed to bring up the next one properly. The one person who so easily connects with the young, and he just happens to be the one that never got to have and never will have any children of his own."

Sirius looked at Marius, then his bowl. There wasn't much soup left, but his appetite had diminished so much that he didn't feel like forcing himself to finish. Distantly, a part of him allowed itself to contemplate how miraculous it was that Pollux and Marius had managed to heal their relationship, even if not completely. But most of his mind was weighed down by what his maternal grandfather had just said. Sirius realized that it had never really sunk in, how hard it would be to heal the Black Family, let alone to change how the rest of the world thought of it. The House of Black really was messed up. What Pollux said… That track record was what he had to deal with. That was the reputation he had to change.

His stomach twisted at the thought that he had the deaths of so many family members to be thankful to. To thank for the fact that he didn't have even more bullshit to crawl through.

A hand on his own pulled him from his introspection, and his sight settled on an abashed Pollux Black. "Forgive this old man his lack of tact. I didn't mean to ruin your mood on your first day with your godson. It's just old age creeping up on me."

Sirius sighed and occluded the latest ten minutes, compartmentalizing his memory and separating the emotion from his current state of mind. He looked back at his godson, who was being instructed in the correct way to consume cookies of the hard, crisp variety. "See, Harry, there's a trick to these. You don't just use your teeth as leverage to break them, you have to really bite through the biscuit. Trust in your teeth, they're more than hard enough. Just make sure you hold your lips close together and very slightly breathe in through your mouth when you do, to draw all the crumbs along too. That's all there is to it."

Harry's face settled into a determined scowl as he followed the instructions, and he actually managed to not audibly inhale or choke on crumbs as he bit from the pastry. For a second he waited for the other shoe to drop, but then the realization dawned that he'd done it.

Sirius felt his stomach flip when Harry looked at him with the sort of expectant delight he didn't dare hope to see for another few weeks. He couldn't stop the proud smile from blooming on his face, a smile that grew further when Harry bit from the cookie again and only pouted in annoyance when he failed to prevent a couple of crumbs from falling. No more drama. "Don't worry Harry," Sirius laughed. "You'll do it naturally soon enough. Of course, that means you'll need to keep having more cookies until you get to that stage." Lord Black nodded in mock seriousness. "And lots of milk."

It was silly really, to treat eating cookies like some sort of big achievement. His good old mother would have screeched about how shameful it was, but who cared? Besides, it was ingenious too. If they set this precedent, that it was okay to ask questions and go into detail about something this minor and silly, then Harry should have no fear of asking any questions from now on.

His appetite was back, the young wizard realized, so he dug back into his food. Soon enough, he'd finished the soup and relaxed against the backrest, waiting for Kreacher to transport the bowl to the kitchen and replace it with his second course, lamb steak with mashed potatoes and salad. Beside him, Pollux was looking at the same sight he was, Marius in particular.

"He really is something, isn't he?" Sirius told him.

"He is." The emotion was carefully hidden, but there was so much of it. "I'm surprised his wife isn't here with him though."

Sirius gave his grandfather his Marauder grin. "Oh, she may not be here, but she's with him alright." Pollux glanced at him, puzzled. "I believe she and her husband are sleeping off the aftereffects of the birthday party we held for Harry yesterday." Pollux' frown of confusion didn't ease. "Or, well, the party we will hold in a couple of months. But don't tell anyone."

The old man's eyes cleared and his mouth formed an 'o' of comprehension. "So that's why she left the other day." A pause, and then Pollux was asking, slowly, tentatively. "Is… there any chance Arcturus or myself attended?"

Sirius instantly felt shocked.

Then he just felt like scum. Pollux had actually sounded hopeful. "Er… I'm sorry but no. The time turner can only take three people, and as far as I know neither you nor Arcturus are going back for this last jump."

The white-grey-haired wizard nodded and started on his desert, not seeming too bothered.

It almost fooled him. "Grandfather..." Sirius sighed. He honestly hadn't expected this. "I'm sorry." He really was, and he prayed Pollux believed him. "I should have considered this. If I'd just asked, you could have just gone over yesterday with Leona, time jump or no. I just never even considered you'd want to be there for it without even meeting Harry in the first place." Which was stupid. If that was his only concern, he could have had Pollux, even Arcturus, visit a few days earlier, even if the whole time-turned selves situation would have made it weird for them. "I didn't want to put you in the awkward position of having to refuse, or going and failing to enjoy yourself."

"And ruin the mood of everyone else you mean?" Pollux smiled humorlessly. Arcturus had retired to the country manor as soon as the time loop period had ended and there were no past-them living there anymore. "I admit that I get along with Artie, but I'm not him you know." Sirius grimaced at being pointed out something that should have been obvious. "Don't misunderstand him though. It's not that he doesn't want to meet Harry because he doesn't want to be exposed to his appalling manners or anything."

"Why else would he make himself scarce that way then?"

Pollux looked at him in a way that asked him if he was really so dim. "Maybe because he assumed, like you assumed so many things yourself, that you wouldn't want him to be among the first people you exposed Harry to? And he didn't want to put you in the awkward position of telling him yourself that he should stay away? You may have buried the hatchet and tentatively established a raport, but no one's forgotten what you accused him of when you took Lordship. What the family hierarch agreed with you on."

"… Oh Merlin." Sirius breathed.

"Besides," Pollux talked on, taking another spoonful of his vanilla cake. "He'd probably have trouble looking at Harry without a cloud settling over his head, seeing as how the kid's basically going to be a living reminder of what you already showed him, namely that everything he believed was a lie."

Sirius' palm met face. And here he'd thought they'd gone past the point where lack of communication could do so much damage. Maybe he'd have to decree that taking or not taking actions with the express purpose of "avoiding awkwardness" was outlawed in the House of Black.

"Again, I'm sorry. I should have asked… but I guess I didn't think you'd warm up to Harry all that fast." Even to Sirius' ears, that excuse sounded hollow.

Pollux nodded but used his spoon to indicate his brother. His brother who was now showing the boy in his lap the proper way to hold each different glass. "With an image like that, it's kind of hard not to."

"-. .-"

Sirius wondered how he'd ended up explaining to Harry the intricacies of British Wizarding wardrobe. Oh, right, they were in the car and he needed some way to distract Harry from his nervousness at having to meet so many strangers at once. And since Marius had somehow roped his godson into an apparently never-ending discussion about manners and protocol during lunch, Sirius decided to just go with the flow and keep answering questions until Harry's curiosity abated. He thanked his lucky stars that Marius actually did seem to know the history behind every social convention Harry asked about.

And as befuddling as it seemed, said curiosity was not abating. Sure, the kid took some breaks during the day, to talk to Kreacher (of all things) and being taken on a tour of the house, but he always started asking questions about the topic, based on things he spotted and asked the purpose of. Grimly, Sirius internally supposed that after so many years of being told not to ask questions, Harry was relishing the chance to ask and ask some more without fearing repercussions. Although it was really strange that this topic, of all topics, was the one they'd settled on. Usually, children loathed lessons like these ones. Or, really, all sorts of lessons. But Harry's attention span was really incredible, even if his train of thought did seem to jump almost randomly sometimes.

That he didn't see it as a lesson probably helped.

They were being driven by Marius over to the where everyone who'd ever been involved with the Little Whinging surveillance operation was having a party. Earlier, when he and Regulus learned that Harry wished he could meet those people, Sirius didn't really expect to make it happen, especially not so soon. And he didn't really feel it was all that important. He'd have preferred it if Harry slammed the door in the face of his life up to his eight birthday and never looked back.

But this was Harry, and the request wasn't something minor. So it was actually a welcome surprise when Regulus put away his phone and said that they were in luck, because everyone involved in the operation was having a celebratory outing at a certain pub in London. Sirius supposed it might have been a habit of the muggle secret service people to celebrate the completion of assignments. Regulus told him that wasn't really the case though. This one time, the men and women involved were simply glad to see the operation end on a positive note, and happy that a certain 8-year-old boy was off to a new and better start.

Sirius was still skeptical… until he was told that every single person who'd ever been assigned to the surveillance would be there. Even those that had requested a different task after not being able to stomach it anymore. All in all, there would be about two dozen people when they arrived.

Sirius actually didn't want to expose Harry to the world of night locales so soon, but Regulus bluntly pointed out that living with the Dursleys was a far worse example of the darkness of humanity. Besides, they had magic, and everyone there knew about it, so they'd be able to clean the air of any smoke or smells, and cast sobering charms on people to make sure things didn't get gross or uncomfortable.

They had to delay the time jump until after midnight (and hadn't that been a vague telephone conversation with Remus, since the old wolf didn't even know about the time travel yet) but that was a small price to pay. Sirius would just have to overcharge the time turner a bit to make it leap one extra day. The fact that the jumps had already meshed so well together suggested he'd already been successful there.

"So…" Harry said thoughtfully. "The silk used to make luxury robes comes from ac-ro-mant-ulas."

"A-cro-man-tu-las," Sirius corrected patiently. Honestly, Harry's pronunciation wasn't bad, but the kid seemed to want it to be as perfect as it was for every other word in his vast vocabulary.

"Which are like… giant spiders?"

"Yes."

"Giant spiders."

"Yes."

"Huh." Sirius waited for the 'wicked!' or something along those lines, but Harry had different ideas. "Why not use regular silk though?"

Sirius would have facefaulted if he wasn't sitting down on the backseat of an automobile.

Regulus answered for him, from the passenger seat. "They do, often enough. But acromantula silk is more durable, smoother, can anchor enchantments permanently, and also doesn't stain. That's why it is used for wizard high-class fashion. Also, unlike silkworms, acromantulas produce webbing every time they hunt and make a cocoon with their prey. And they tend to 'refine' their nests, human-engineered or otherwise, quite often. So the rate at which acromantula silk is produced and harvested is higher than for silkworms, which produce only one silk cocoon in their lives and have to be boiled to death while still inside-"

"Okay, that's enough information." Sirius loudly cut him off. He had to forcefully set aside the thought of throttling his brother. Didn't he know better than to explain to an 8-year-old that the way people they procured high-class clothing relied on the periodic mass murder of a species of insects? And, Merlin forbid, give Harry enough of a reason to ask how large, exactly, acromantulas have to be before their web can be harvested… and what kind of prey they were talking about.

"I know how silk is made," Harry grumbled. "I just wanted to know if acromantulas went through the same, and if wizards are just as... are like everyone else."

"You don't need to worry about that much," Regulus said before Sirius could offer more input. The younger Black eyed Harry through the rear-view mirror. "There is animal cruelty and there is natural order. Besides, you should know that while animal cruelty is bad, following natural order isn't really evil, since animals don't have souls, not like we do." Sirius frowned in thought. This wasn't something he'd heard before. "They are more like very complex constructs, similar to robots which, like plants but more actively, work against the stagnation of the physical reality. Although they are sentient, so they deserve empathy and respect. Nevertheless, they live and breathe according to the direction provided by… entities, shall we say, from the mental and astral planes. They follow pre-ordained behaviors to maintain the cycle of death and rebirth as it were, the constant transformation of matter. That is why their behavior is the same across the board, why the herding instinct appears in many species, and why instinct exists in general. You could say that it is similar to a hive mind, though very loosely." Regulus shifted in his seat. "I know there are exceptions, especially in regards to pets and familiars, but that's usually because a semi-sapient or fully sapient spirit or entity happened to choose said creature as a vessel."

Harry's eyes were wide in surprise. "Wait… so people can reincarnate in dogs and cats and stuff?"

"No." Well, that answer seemed to contradict what Reg had previously said. "Not like us. Sapients only reincarnate as other Sapients. It is, however, possible for a spirit to… extend its awareness, shall we say, to a dog, cat, owl, kneazle, sometimes even a wild animal or other magical creature. Just for observation, so to speak, although they do begin to influence the behavior sometimes. Like when a dog is particularly smart and hero-prone for example. Lassie comes to mind." Harry grinned. "Sometimes this is done as a trial run to get a feel for the physical plane before actually being born as someone's offspring. Like wearing a certain type of clothing for a while, to get a feel for it. Or learning to drive a car before buying your own. Some souls don't need this, but human souls aren't the only ones that incarnate. Elemental spirits, for instance, while they have self-awareness, of a sort, they don't exactly have soul and spirit, but they can gain them if they grow and experience enough. They 'embody' animals sometimes, in preparation of being born if it comes down to it."

Harry thought about that for a while. Sirius was glad he fell silent, because he had trouble wrapping his mind around that info dump too. And where was all that data coming from anyway?

"But…" Harry scratched his head. "Can't they, like, use people to, well, get a feel for the physical world?"

Sirius stared at Harry, the kid who was frowning next to him, oblivious to the scrutinizing stare of is godfather.

"If the person is sufficiently in tune with the higher planes, yes." Regulus confirmed. "But in most cases it's impossible. Animals don't have a soul, or free will, so it doesn't really take special permission to use one that way. Humans, or any being with self-awareness, would have to grant permission. It's why possessions are so rare, and even then they only happen because the ones getting possessed did something to themselves, or didn't take good enough care of themselves, or did many bad things, made so much karma that it overwhelms them when dark forces in the astral plane come knocking."

Sirius wondered if that's what happened to Voldemort, or if he was just crazy that way. Or if it was something in-between for the monster.

"Oh." But the child still had questions. "Why don't they just ask then? I mean, if there are so many people in the world…"

"Because most people wouldn't hear them." Regulus vanished, moving car and all, and reappeared on Harry's other side on the backseat. The boy jumped slightly, but settled down quickly. "And mostly it's because us humans tend to use our brains completely ass-backwards."

"Language, Regulus," Marius called out from where he was, in the driver's seat. "Mind the age of the one you're talking to."

Said young man ignored him, but did end the topic. "Basically, instead of a storage for memories, our brain should be more like an antenna, and our thoughts should happen on a higher level. Explaining more would mean going off on a tangent that we don't really have the time for right now. But we'll be seeing a lot of each other over the next few months, so we'll have more than enough time for it then. For now, maybe we can jump straight to whatever's really on your mind."

Harry stammered. "I… well, it's just. You know I dream about mom?" They did. And Sirius was glad Marius had mentioned it because otherwise Harry might not have had the courage to bring it up. "I wondered… if it wasn't just me imagining it, you know? I mean, when I dream about her, it's so vivid and… even when the dreams go bad, the way you said that spirits can, like, coexist with us… I wondered if people could do that too?"

Regulus hummed in understanding. "The answer to your question is yes: your mother really has always been with you."

Harry's head dropped, but some invisible tension seemed to seep out of him, even though Sirius knew, somehow, there was still some left. Some that was only partly related to their topic of discussion.

So he stroked his godson's hair, then pulled him in his lap and laid his chin on his head. "The ones who love us never truly leave us, Harry." And Lily definitely loves you. "Your mom just went one step further than everyone else." So you don't have to keep fearing there's something wrong with you for seeing her while asleep.

"-. .-"

That settled it, Sirius internally fumed as he helped Harry out of the car. He was going to throttle Regulus after all. And all for one simple reason: the smug git had neglected (neglected!) to inform the party goers that they were coming!

On purpose!

And the smug bastard dared think he, Sirius Orion Black, would be mollified by the knowledge that Dan, at least, knew ever since Regulus placed the first call. Like that was going to help any! No doubt all those two dozen people were half-way to being drunk off their asses by now!

Not only that, Sirius fumed openly, but Regulus had the gall to let him stew, and only then smirk and say he'd go and "soften them up" by casting sobering charms on the agents gathered there. He'd even gone so far as to chide him, in perfect deadpan, and say that they had no right to make them anxious and unable to enjoy their outing just because they'd decided to crash the party. Especially when they could make them all right as rain with just a few wand flicks.

Then he vanished from the car when they were five minutes away from their destination, not even letting him come up with a comeback.

The worst part of it, Sirius had to admit to himself, was that the reasoning made perfect sense. No, that wasn't quite the worst of it. The worst of it was that Sirius had only himself to blame for this. Himself and his Marauderish ways, which had rubbed off on his brother enough to make the sneaky git play jokes on him. Well, his nonchalance wasn't going to fool him from now on, that was for sure!

Yes.

It was so on!

…

No.

Wait.

They'd agreed not to start prank wars for a while until Harry gets his feet under him. So… Sirius was utterly cut off from any right at enacting disproportionate retribution.

That little sneak! He'd planned this! Somehow he must have!

"Well, that's a scowl for the history book."

Sirius snapped out of his sulk and shifted his attention from his internal rant to the woman waiting just outside the entrance to the pub. Vesper Bond was waiting for them in all her –unfortunately married – glory. She was wearing a shoulder-less, purple dress that reached down to above her knees, elbow-length gloves of similar material, high heels of the same color, and had her hair gathered in a low bun at the back of her head.

Sirius felt Harry's grip on his hand tighten in apprehension. He didn't recognize her. An easy greeting was needed then. "Ah. You must be our welcoming committee."

"That I am." She nodded in greeting to Marius, who entered ahead of them to "stake out the area" and find Regulus. Then her eyes sought Harry's. Sirius rather thought his godson was doing a good job of forcing himself not to hide behind his legs. "Since I'm the only person Harry actually knows, I and the others figured it would be best if I did the introductions." She met Sirius' eyes again with that self-assured smile of hers. "Oh. And you can tag along I suppose."

Sirius had to smile wryly at that. He supposed he may as well make the introductions. "Vesper, Harry. Harry, Vesper."

"She's so pretty…" Harry mumbled dreamily, before he snapped out of his daze and blushed. Vesper's amusement was clear on her face. "H-Hello." Harry forced out, not remembering the name. "What do you mean I… know you?"

Vesper pouted. "You've already forgotten about me, green eyes?" Sirius felt Harry's grip harden before easing. In front of him, the woman reached into her purse with both hands (even though the way said purse hung from her elbow shouldn't have made it possible for the motion to be so smooth and graceful), and pulled out… a wig. The right hand settled the fake hair over her head, and the index and middle fingers of her left pressed a unibrow against her forehead. "And I gave you a present just yesterday. Don't you love me anymore?"

Harry's eyes looked like they'd grown to double size. "Sandy?" he breathed in disbelief.

The wig and unbirow disappeared into the assorted purple purse as quickly as they'd appeared. "I go by Vesper these days. Don't worry about calling me what you usually do though. I'll correct you however many times it takes."

"How very helpful," Sirius almost balked at Harry's sarcastic answer. "Knowing you, you're probably hoping I don't get used to your real name, just so you can look all self-satisfied when you correct me, time after time."

"You know me too well, green eyes," Vesper quipped right back. "Although…" Her index finger pressed against the tip of her chin. "You can't really know how much of that attitude of mine was an act, can you?"

"I guess," Harry shrugged. "But I don't really care if it was. Your feelings are real, aren't they? I mean, if they weren't you wouldn't be here now."

Sirius couldn't help but stare at Harry incredulously. Was this what the relationship between these two was like? And was he right in assuming this woman was the whole reason his inquisitive mind hadn't been killed off by those poor excuses for human beings? If so, he owed her more than he did most others.

Vesper gave Harry one last searching look, examining his black dress pants, shoes and green shirt. "Good choice of colors. The shirt brings out your eyes."

Harry ducked his head in embarrassment. "Thanks… But Mr. B-…Sirius picked them out." Ah, there was the Harry he'd come to know.

Seemingly taking pity on him, Vesper held out a hand and moved things along. "Shall we? Everyone should have their heads screwed on right by now, and the air should be clear as well at this point, if Regulus did his mojo properly."

Sirius almost shook his head at her casual reference to magic. If the Ministry knew of this ludicrous breach in the statute of secrecy, their heads would probably explode.

Harry accepted the proffered hand but didn't let go of Sirius', much to the latter's hidden delight. It meant that Harry trusted him at least as much as he did the not-librarian he'd known for years. Or at least cared about him enough to not want to hurt his feelings by outwardly choosing her over him, which was almost as well. "You ready?" Taking a deep breath, Harry nodded yes.

The pub actually proved a lot nicer than Sirius expected. It was a dim but uniformly-lit establishment with a fairly tall padded ceiling, vents and speakers dotting it regular intervals. Something like smooth jazz sounded from them, set at just the right volume to be properly heard and understood without drowning out people's voices and making it so they'd have to yell to communicate. It was actually kind of comfortable, and the place was definitely clean and well maintained.

There was a small dance floor in the middle, currently empty, with tables around it, and booths lining the walls. The chairs and sofas were nice and comfortable, covered in brown leather, and there was a bar at the far side of the locale, where some, but not too many, of the patrons were seated on standard tall stools. Interestingly enough, that's where Regulus was too, leaning with his side against the bar, talking to one of the men there. It made sense, Sirius thought, if those were the drunkest of the people there and needed the best sobering charms available. Shots tended to addle your brain the fastest after all.

All in all, compared to the dingy and dark Leaky Cauldron, the place was a great sight to see. And a far cry from what he'd feared.

But then Sirius mentally berated himself. Of course this wasn't going to be one of those discos or randy places where things were noisy and people constantly bumped into each other because of how crowded it was, and how hard the music constantly battered their ears. The people spread all over the tables and booths here weren't rowdy teenagers. Almost half of them were older that he was.

And now they were looking at them. Gradually, the talking died down, until only some of the people sitting farthest off from them were still murmuring among themselves. Sirius didn't really mind, but he could feel the tension settling on Harry with each new pair of eyes that landed on him. Fortunately, the men (and women, there were quite a few of them too, spouses or whatever else) didn't do more than raise their glass or bottles in greeting, although they didn't exactly look away from Harry either.

Amazingly enough, no one looked annoyed with their presence. The stares were mostly curious, and Sirius even caught a few that carried intense scrutiny, before the men relaxed and gave him subtle glances, as if approving of what he'd done about Harry's image.

Lord Black's eyes (not that his jeans and black shirt made him look the part) sought his brother, and he was about to tug Harry forward when… "Hey kid!" One of the guys closest called out. He was about Sirius' age, with short brown hair and a round chin. His eye color couldn't be seen in the light, but he gave off a pleasant enough vibe. "Nice duds."

Harry looked at him, as if he didn't expect to be addressed. "Er… thanks." The awkwardness could be sense pouring off him. "Sirius got them for me." He blurted, for lack of anything better.

"Yes, you said so before," Vesper noted. "Although I agree it bears repeating. Men who aren't color blind are ever so rare in these times." She winked at Sirius, then gave a pointed look to the pink shirt the man who'd broken the silence was wearing. Even Sirius had to agree it didn't exactly "go" with the theme of the place.

Or his yellow pants.

The man in question puffed out his chest in dismissive defiance. "I'll have you know that, until your vaunted feminism happened, pink used to be the most masculine color ever!"

"Yes, for small boys," the other man sharing his table snickered into his beer glass, earning himself a glare that went ignored.

"And blue was the feminine one!" The guy pressed on, taking a swig out of his own bottle. Then he looked at Harry with utter seriousness. "Don't mind them, kid. They're just like everyone else, making fun of the color of LOVE. Don't ever let me hear about you doing the same."

Sirius had to wonder if that man's inclinations were in any way unusual. So much so that he almost missed Harry's reply.

His godson blinked, then tilted his head and gazed. "I'll make sure to keep it quiet around you then." The area suddenly became extraordinarily chatter-free. "And denounce any and all claims to that effect as vicious lies."

Sirius would have laughed along with everyone nearby if his mouth didn't freeze in that proud grin he suspected he'd end up wearing most of the time from now on. That had been such a James thing to say.

Sirius made a mental note to find out the name of the man and thank him later. He'd effectively dispersed all lingering reservations that Harry might have had about coming, and did the same for whoever thought their arrival would spoil the rest of their night.

Not that they planned to stay all that long, but it was the thought that counted.

Catching Regulus' eye, he saw his brother motion with his head in the direction of the booth near the corner, to the left of the bar. Recognizing Marius, and the other two people there, the unusual trio of wizard, woman and soon-to-be preteen made their way over.

"Uhm… H-hi." Harry stuttered.

Only for Sirius to feel as if that guy earlier may as well have not said anything to relax the atmosphere. As soon as Harry was in front of Daniel Reed, he clammed up. Sirius supposed that was what happened when a tiny, underfed kid was put in front of a man that was nearly as tall as most other adults… when sitting down.

The wizard wanted to sigh or palm his face. Noticing the glance of James (why did he have to be called James?) and a similar look on Dan's face, he could only shrug and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, for encouragement. Maybe they should have asked Harry what, exactly, he wanted to tell these people, and coached him on the way over on how to deliver the message. Sending Marius a nearly pleading look, he almost expected the man to say something to get things moving, like he'd done at lunch.

Dan had different ideas. Slightly narrowing his eyes when Harry looked down and scratched the back of his head, the large human turned, facing the boy from where he sat, on the edge of the corner sofa. Sirius knew he could be a lot nicer than his gigantic frame let on…

Which was why the first words that came out of his mouth were such a shock. "This job involving you. This surveillance operation on your former neighborhood was the absolute worst assignment I've ever been on."

Harry looked up, startled, then visibly shrunk.

Sirius gaped at how brutally blunt the man had just been. How flatly his every word had been uttered.

"I hated it," Dan went on, seemingly not caring about what it was doing to Harry. "I hated every single second of it." Harry's head dropped again. "Every morning I hated that I had to live through another day of it." Sirius opened his mouth, but Marius shook his head, from where he sat across the table from Dan, and sternly stared him down. "And every evening I hated that I had only a few hours before I had to sleep – assuming I even could – and start again."

Sirius almost spoke again, but a grip on his arm made his glare snap to the left, only for confusion to flare when he realized it was his brother, silently warning him against saying anything.

Dan acted as if no one besides him and Harry even existed. "But you know something?"

Sirius knew damn well what he wanted to do, but with Marius and Regulus both looking at him that way, he barely managed to hold himself back. Glaring the other way, he ignored an expectant Vesper and noticed that the other people at nearby tables were keeping an eye on the situation, but showing no sort of misgivings. Only patience, as if they knew what was coming.

The quiet stretched for a minute, then another. All the while, Dan kept his eyes on Harry and waited, until Harry had to hesitantly look up.

And when he did, Dan's emotionless face thawed, allowing something like satisfaction to color it. "I don't regret it at all." Harry blinked, startled. Not understanding. Sirius actually could empathize with his reaction. But Dan raised a hand and reached out, prodding Harry right in the middle of his forehead. "I don't regret taking the assignment at all. Despite the things I saw done, I don't regret seeing it through the end." His hand moved to muss Harry's hair, then stayed there. "I'm glad I asked for it and saw it through. Because, even though it was from a distance, I got to know you."

Sirius was glad he didn't have a direct view of Harry's face. Or that Harry didn't have a direct sight of his for that matter, seeing as how he couldn't quite keep his wonder and embarrassment off his face. He should have known Dan wouldn't be cruel just for the hell of it.

At length, Harry spoke, overwhelmed and wonderstruck. Sniffed really. "You really mean it, don't you…" It wasn't even a question. It was the sort of thing people said when they couldn't really wrap their minds around some enormous revelation.

Dan didn't say anything, but he did reach into a chest pocket and handed Harry a handkerchief, which the boy bashfully accepted and blew his nose into. Sirius supposed he'd already cried his fill that day and couldn't really manage another episode of waterworks so soon. "Keep it," Dan said before the boy could figure out if he was supposed to hand it back or not. The grin was clearly heard in his next sentence. "You clearly need it more than I do."

Harry pouted adorably –Sirius wasn't glad anymore that he didn't have a direct view of his face – and seemed to be struggling for a comeback.

He found one. "Yeah, well…" Come on Harry, you're a Marauder's son! "What you said doesn't even make sense!"

Sirius blinked. Well, that was a lousy comeback. He had his work cut out for him.

"Oh really?" Dan challenged.

"Yeah!" Harry seemed to be picking up steam. "You said you hated it but you're glad about it!" He jabbed his finger at the man. "You can't have both!"

"Sure you can," Dan responded with a dismissive wave. "Say you're sick and you need to swallow a bitter pill. You hate that you have to take the pill, but when your sickness goes away afterwards you're glad you took it, right?"

Harry scowled and worked his brain, trying to come up with something to say.

He failed.

The boy's shoulders dropped, but he childishly refused to admit defeat, looking pointedly away. It was a testament to how screwed up his life had been up to that point that the people around him saw it as a good sign instead of bad.

"Ah, male pride," Dan glibly noted, making Harry redden. "Never had to deal with it in a kid before. I've only ever had daughters after all." That got Harry to look at him again. Askance, but it was better than nothing. "Maybe you'll meet them someday." He seemed to survey Harry with that same look that all fathers could apply when judging whether a male was or wasn't good enough for their little girl. "Then again, maybe that's not such a good idea." Harry hid his disappointment, but Sirius still saw it. "They'd both be liable to play dress-up with an adorable thing like you. I fear your male pride would not survive the experience."

Harry worked his mouth, then scowled again and turned around, crossing his arms and puffing his cheeks in annoyance.

No longer in the boy's line of sight, Dan allowed himself that devious half-smile that, according to his subordinates, always meant some grand plan had come together. It made Sirius feel a bit silly for reacting so defensively on Harry's behalf earlier. He should have known what the man was doing. Had Harry really given him such tunnel vision when it came to him?

Stepping around him, Vesper nudged Harry in the back. "Come on, we'd better get away and meet some of the others. Maybe you can actually win one of these teasing matches and heal you wounded pride."

Harry shot Vesper a betrayed look and refused to ask for or accept a holding hand as he stalked off, although he really only followed at Vesper's side while trying to make it look as though it was the other way around.

Trying and failing.

Sirius was going to accompany them, but Regulus shot him a look and went instead.

Well. He supposed that if Harry wanted him along, he'd have given some sign of it before storming off. And if he was finally going to act like a child, they may as well let him do it without coddling.

So Sirius instead took a seat on the edge of the three-side corner sofa, right in front of Daniel. The man didn't look guarded, but Sirius rather thought he expected him to voice a reproach of some sort. Sirius wasn't about to do it, not when it had worked so well. He thought about saying thanks, or something along the lines of "That was a nice thing you did" but figured the man already had replies prepared for those, and that would just cheapen the feeling.

So instead, he waited for an idea to pop up. Intuition worked awesome like that, he'd been told. And there it was. "That was an interesting comparison you made."

Dan looked up sharply, measuring him and his words. It was obvious he'd heard the implied question. Did you have to swallow a bitter pill of some sort at some point in the past? Sirius didn't outright ask it, because he wasn't exactly friends with the man, so he didn't really have the right to pry.

The blue-clad, off-duty, burly security chief leaned back, though one hand was still around his glass of whisky. "Running surveillance is pretty much a thankless job," he started. "And while it's not as 'dirty' as some others, it's not exactly pleasant either. You get to see the nasty little secrets of other countries." His eyes studied the dark liquid in his glass. "The seedy underbelly of other nations in gritty detail. And even though you can, intellectually, know that things may be as bad as that in your own country, most of us can only stave off disgust and depression by telling ourselves that we do what we do just so our own home country won't turn out like that. Just so our own countrymen don't have to be like that."

Sirius listened. He had a vague feeling he knew where this was going, but he couldn't be sure. Or that he wanted to be right about his assumption.

"And then you get an assignment like this one, and you see that, really, your own countrymen aren't at all better. Even worse in some places. It's like a kick to the teeth. So in order to hold onto that fragile image you made of your life and yourself, you fall back on that last little hope, that even if your fellow British are that rotten, at least you'll never turn out that way."

Ah. So that's what it was. It made the lone wizard sitting at that booth feel uncomfortable, to say the least. The blues that began to hum from the speakers in the ceiling was oddly appropriate.

"I used to ridicule my two colleagues that headed this surveillance operation before I took over. 'Can't stomach watching some domestic chores?' I'd ask, or something similarly ignorant. I asked to be assigned to it just so I could confirm they really were just blowing things out of proportion. Score kick to the teeth number two. But it wasn't what I actually had to watch that got to me. I know myself, so I could see that I was actually taking it worse than the other two. I was in denial of what I was seeing for longer than them. I'm not a stranger to abuse cases, but this one was just bizarre. I mean, usually abusers harm all their children, instead of making such a blatant distinction between the two. And the ignorance of the neighborhood was unbelievable. I couldn't understand how it could run so deep. Even saying that Vernon and Petunia's open treatment of Dudley made it hard to think they were abusers, I couldn't believe no one noticed.

"Then it was Thursday evening and I drove home, not knowing that I'd get to see that ignorance, in my case, ran even deeper than that."

Sirius shifted in his seat, listening intently. He didn't need to watch Marius and James to see them paying as much attention as he did.

"Nothing much happened that night. My wife and my daughters noticed my mood and gave me space, or so I thought. Then came morning, and the routine seemed to go on as normal, until my youngest told me something. Breakfast was already over, and my wife and my older daughter had gone off to get ready for work and school, so only little Lora had stayed behind. I don't even remember what it was, probably because I was immersed in the morning paper. So she repeated and asked me a question and I snapped at her. I don't even remember what that was about either. But what came after… I can see it even now," he'd stopped shifting his glass, and his eyes had taken that far-off look of reminiscence. "I berated her for being a nuisance, though not in those exact words, and sent her to her room.

"And instead of rightly asking why, or reacting in any other way, she just meekly bowed her head and said 'Yes papa,' in that same, emotionally-drained voice I'd been hearing for the past week in my headphones."

Sirius grimaced. He wanted to send some sort of support across the table, but he had no clue how.

"I froze in my seat, and didn't even notice her leaving the kitchen. For an instant, it was someone else's boy bowing his head next to me. Then he was gone, but so was I, and it was that big, fat whale Vernon there, snapping at my little girl."

Sirius began to feel nauseous.

"I came out of it when I heard my daughter's door being shut with a bit more force than usual, and it was my instinctive impulse to go up there and lecture her about proper indoor behavior that broke the dam and made me have a look at what I'd been doing to my life. I've never laid a hand on my daughters or my wife, but I was far from an ideal person. I'd been growing distant and cranky, for years before I even took that assignment. I'd blamed it on my job, but it was just an excuse. It had become bad enough that my presence in the house made my wife and oldest daughter more wary than happy to see me. Made me realize they'd avoided me, the previous day, for their own peace of mind rather than mine. Only little Lora still tried to be a ray of sunshine, not really understanding why her family didn't seem to get along."

Dan lifted his whisky glass and stared at it, then put it back down. His posture slackened somewhat. Right forearm holding the weight of his higher frame on the tabletop. "I almost lost that too. I don't think I'll ever forget the sight of my little girl crying in her sister's arms, asking why her daddy hated her. Or the resigned anger and fear on Mairin's face when she saw me coming into Lora's room. The way she hid her little sister behind her and started saying that she'd come into the room uninvited so I shouldn't punish Lora for it."

Sirius Black could only look at the man as he propped the side of his face in his open palm. Given what he'd seen of him over the past two months, he was having serious trouble reconciling the image he'd built about him with the one he was describing.

Dan stared at the whisky as it again soundlessly sloshed in the glass in his left hand. "I could see it on Mae's face, that she expected her words to fall on deaf ears. That was how low their opinion of me had gotten." He sighed then, still looking at the glass, but at the same time not really seeing it. "I apologized. They cried. We hugged it out. But even now I can't think back to that day without feeling like I'm about to throw up. Even though my home life is wonderful now. Even though my relationship with my daughters and wife has never been better, I'll never be able to think around the fact that I owe it all to the fact that I was "lucky" enough-" he almost spat that word "-to witness utter misery being forced upon a little boy not even the same age as my youngest. That I ended up needing something so horrible to exist in order for me to realize my own shortcomings."

Sirius really felt bad now. They hadn't been friends before that evening, but Dan knew more or less everything relevant about him – Regulus had had to brief him and the rest after all – and now he'd effectively confessed his worst memory, something so intimate that you couldn't really listen to it and not empathize and become friends with the man.

Or without being a totally heartless bastard which Sirius liked to think he had managed to not turn into.

What should he do? Or say?

As it turned out, nothing.

"Um… Mister?" Sirius looked to the left, across the table. Harry was so small, his head barely reached above the table level, and even that was because his hair was a messy bird's nest. But there he was, hesitantly tugging on the man's pant leg. Green eyes wide and innocent, clear even in the dim light. Tentatively asking. "A-are you okay?"

Dan treated the little boy to a smile so brittle that Sirius momentarily thought he was seeing someone else. "I'll be fine." Even then, so emotionally spent, he knew better than to lie to the boy's face and say he already was okay. His morals were strong, no matter what he thought of himself.

"Are you sure?" Harry asked worriedly. "You looked so sad just now."

It was then that Sirius realized Harry was alone. A few tables away, Vesper was getting up from her seat, only now noticing Harry had slipped away at some point during the conversation she was having with the other two seated there. Had he somehow seen or felt the man's sadness? How perceptive was he, really?

Sirius could only wonder what it was that made him so bravely come and get involved, when he should have been even more leery of doing so in such an uncomfortable situation. How he did not feel at all awkward was a mystery.

Dan's smile wasn't brittle anymore, but it was still strained. "I was just remembering a bad memory." He sat straighter, trying to banish the gloom. Sirius noticed he didn't answer whether or not he was sure he'd be fine. "It'll go away. You shouldn't worry your big heart about broody old men."

"You're not that old," Harry mumbled, shooting a pointed look at Marius, as if pointing out the comparison, then looking back at Dan. Straight up at his face. "You look like Sirius."

Everyone, including a returning Vesper and Regulus, just stared. Sirius wondered where on earth Harry saw the resemblance. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Sirius registered how the music had been turned off, and how there was no sound in that entire establishment besides Harry's voice. He supposed he'd see everyone paying attention to them if he bothered to scope the area, but he didn't. Like them, could only watch what was in front of him.

Harry didn't see them, or the attention. He didn't care. He just pinned the huge man's gaze in place with his own and didn't let go. It looked as if Dan wouldn't have been able to look away even if he wanted to. "You look like Sirius did during lunch today." The wizard in question felt something both cold and hot press on him from all directions.

"…"

"It feels the same too. It feels awful." Sirius felt his stomach twist. That was why Harry really fumbled at the table! "I didn't really know what it felt like, I just thought it felt familiar, and now I know why. It feels the same as when Sirius told me how he thinks he failed my mom and dad and me." Sirius very, very slowly put his beer down. "As if I'll ever believe that." The boy was oblivious to the effect his words were having on his godfather. "I don't think your wife would want you to feel guilty because she died."

Sirius was glad he'd put the beer down, because otherwise he might have done like the random guy two tables behind and dropped it on the floor, shattering it. Apparently, Harry's perceptiveness had limits too.

Dan snickered then tried to stop but failed, then started laughing. It started slow and staggered, but then he was laughing so hard that he had to hold himself off the table by one arm, and clutch his side with the other. The man never entered hysterics, exactly, but it was damn close.

Next to him, Harry could only stare in bewilderment. Then he noticed other people snickering or looking on in disbelief, and realized their exchange had been witnessed by everyone there. All two dozens of them.

"What?" He asked around, innocent confusion clearly broadcast. "What did I say?"

Dan had almost managed to stop laughing, but started again.

Sirius actually did understand the man now, as he tried and mostly succeeded to muffle his own laughter, although he did vow to replay the memory later and have a good laugh then. It figured that it took a little kid to point out the obvious. That you should NOT act and feel as though someone died without anyone having actually, well, died.

After a minute or two, Dan finally managed to get a hold of himself, wiped some tears away and cleared his throat, straightening up again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then released it, then took another, and after he exhaled again, he opened his eyes again and treated Harry to the first, real, unencumbered smile Sirius had even seen on his face. "My wife's not dead, shrimp." His revelation had a bit more than the fair level of glee. "Just because I only mentioned my daughters doesn't mean I'm a widower."

Harry gaped like a fish. And just when it looked as though his own reaction would make everyone take their own turn at laughing, he dropped the bomb that Sirius had been, in equal parts, hoping for and dreading. "Then why are you acting as if she is?"

The next five minutes were full of Dan staring at Harry in stupefied wonder, and everyone in the pub laughing their asses off. Sirius was the only exception. He tried his best to figure out if Harry was making fun of the man, but he wasn't. He was honest to Merlin sincere in his question.

Eventually, the general mirth calmed, and the stupefied wonder of the face of the off-duty bulky security chief was swept away by the realization Sirius hoped to see. The realization he'd have made sure to talk into him if the man somehow missed what Harry's childish honesty had unwittingly just guided Sirius himself to.

"Everyone in my life is fine, kid." Dan's murmur was low but clear. "Everything in my life is fine…" He said, more to himself. As if finally reaching that conclusion after years of falling short of the goal. His unfocused gaze sharpened again, and this once it was he that kept Harry's gaze in his. Something the broken man of before would not have been able to do, especially not with such tenderness. "Just as I said, it was only a bad memory, about some things that weren't totally resolved."

"Oh," Harry said intelligently. A normal kid would have left it at that. A normal kid would have run off to play. A normal kid would have been unable to realize that none of the earlier laughter had been aimed at him. "Is there anything I can do?"

Harry James Potter, temporarily of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London, was most assuredly not normal.

The question made the large man laugh again, and his smile wasn't strained anymore. He tussled Harry's hair, then seemed to think, to weigh the boy's pout against some invisible scale. Soon, he reached a decision, turned in his seat, leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the top of Harry's head. "Bless you, child," he spoke in his hair, before straightening and saying, earnestly, meeting the young man's gaze a final time. "You've already done more than you can possibly imagine."

Once the excitement died down, Vesper and Regulus led Harry away, to get acquainted with the people he hadn't actually met by that point. Sirius watched him as he grew increasingly comfortable and excited, feeling blessed and humbled that fate had somehow entrusted him with such a wonderful child to watch over and raise. Across from him, the surprisingly silent James Bond watched with a keen eye, Marius had that soft smile he always wore when he was in a good mood (which seemed to be most of the time lately) and Dan was… at peace. It was the only way Sirius could describe it.

And all it took was one child to ask one honest question.

And people thought innocence was a bad thing. Ha!

Feeling his spirits rise, Sirius felt it wouldn't hurt too much to partake of some stronger spirits of a different kind. Since he was a wizard, he'd be able to drink quite a bit without feeling the effect.

So he got up from the booth and made his way to the bar to order some gin. All the while, he kept his eyes on his godson, using his ever present magical radar to easily navigate between the chairs, tables and other patrons. Soon enough, he was placing his order.

"The kid's amazing, isn't he?" an unknown voice said from the bar stool right next to him. Sirius reluctantly tore his eyes from Harry, but he didn't recognize the speaker. Not that the guy seemed to mind his name not being known. "Our boss was kind of notorious for being strict and abrasive, worse than M really, until he took this assignment a few years ago. Then he had a period of about a month when he was a lot worse, much to our shock." Sirius wondered if it was the drink that made the man so open. Probably not, since Regulus had sobered everyone up.

"But then he got steadily better," a different voice said. Sirius blinked, then looked behind at the barman. He was a wiry but well-built man in his forties, with hair greyer than it should have been. His hands deftly manipulated the bottles, ice cubes and glass as he prepared him a different drink than he'd ordered. "We knew the general picture. We do, after all, work in intelligence. It wasn't hard to find out what the stick up his ass was." The wizard stared at the "barman" in surprise, before it dawned on him. It figured, he thought in well-hidden wonder, that MI6 would commandeer the whole locale for this occasion. It was likely that at least a third of the people there had the skills to pass themselves off as bartenders.

"Hard to imagine isn't it?" the one next to him picked up the conversation. "Or maybe not, given the size of the guy."

Sirius turned around and looked at Reed, who was talking lowly with James and Marius about something. Three guesses what. Despite his stature, it was hard to imagine him as an angry jerk now. Then again, Sirius hadn't known him for long, and he had just witnessed him kiss Harry on the head, much like he probably did with his daughters every time he sent them to school or saw them to bed.

"We always did wonder why he never became a double-0, seeing as how he could have probably qualified if he wanted. We assumed he'd applied but been denied because he was just too huge to be inconspicuous," the guy on the barstool said. "But I guess it was true after all, that he never applied. He wasn't maladjusted, broken enough for the job. But that's just the thing. If it wasn't for this assignment with Harry, he would have ended up in a really bad way."

Sirius didn't really know why the guy was telling him all these things. So he hummed and turned around, reaching for the… whatever it was. It looked interesting enough at least.

Grabbing the glass, he made to pull, but it didn't budge. The "bartender" still held onto it in a surprisingly firm grip. He smiled at Sirius, but it wasn't a totally welcoming one. "Your brother's the one that provided MI6 with this assignment, so it's him we'll be thanking for indirectly exposing our boss to the kid. And, by extension, for getting the stick out of his ass and making life generally easier on our whole department." Sirius quirked an eyebrow. Even though the older man was making light of the situation, he could tell they actually did care about Dan himself. Cared that he almost screwed up his life but had the fortune to find himself before he messed it up completely.

Lord Black wondered how many of the other people currently in that pub Harry had had a similar effect on. Even if just by showing them they really couldn't complain about whatever troubles they had, when he had it so much worse but pushed on. Looking into the eyes of the not-barman, he suspected he could confirm at least one.

"You'll take good care of him, right?" said "bartender" asked, although it was also a statement. Normally, Sirius would think it laughable that a nonmagical person would actually slip a hint of a threat, but it was Harry they were doing it on behalf of.

And these were MI6 surveillance officers. The type of people you'd expect to have no emotions whatsoever. If these people had grown fond enough of Harry to actually play the overprotective routine, however ineffective they'd be against him, Sirius could definitely respect it. "I suspect he'll meet Dan's daughters soon enough," he drily told them. "So depending on how his attitude fluctuates, you'll be able to tell whether or not I do. Or, you know," Sirius wandlessly cast a minor revulsion hex on the "barman's" hand, freeing his glass and making his point that they wouldn't really be able to "enforce" any measures against him even if they tried. Free to take his drink, he turned around. "You could always just ask him." He deliberately didn't say whether he meant Dan or Harry.

In the future, Harry may meet any or all of the people currently celebrating there, but that was still an "if." It wasn't as if he trusted any of them besides Dan, and they should be able to guess that much.

He also cast a discrete color change spell and a switching spell on his glass in quick succession as he turned around. The now clear liquor in it swapped for the other guy's vodka, though the glasses didn't switch.

As if Sirius was going to fall for such an obvious prank attempt. Whatever laxative, or whatever else, the guy had put in that "custom drink," he wouldn't be the one falling for it. And he'd made sure to watch if the vodka guy actually drank from it, which he had, so it was safe.

Come to think of it, Regulus had been in a conversation with them when he and Harry came in. He'd have to see about finding out if he was in on it.

Later, he and Marius would leave by portkey and meet with Remus on top of the Aviva Tower in London. Regulus would go elsewhere and jump back in time with past-Sirius, the Sirius that had just returned from Shangri-La. They would be joined by the past-Marius that had only just returned from The Trial.

Sirius was particularly proud of how he'd planned all those jumps in advance.

He was also proud when his "drinking buddy" ran off to the men's room as if the dogs of hell were after him. Sirius inquired with the "bartender" after his well-being with such a perfect genuineness that they both knew it was totally fake.

Then he winked at the man and wandlessly summoned a bottle of gin as he walked back to his booth. He'd gone to the bar to get a gin, and he was damn well going to have some.