Chapter XXXII

January 2, 1994

"Sirius? Hello?"

More than a minute passed, but Remus continued to wait, crouched with his head in the fireplace. Eventually, a house elf appeared to respond to his summons.

"Bad master be asleep. Call back later," the connection shut off.

With a sigh, Remus brushed the ash out of his hair and stood up. He'd seen Sirius only once since his acquittal, given that there'd been a full moon shortly after. Sirius had been in bad shape then.

Remus apparated to the front gate of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, sending an announcing charm at the Black manor's wards. He waited a few minutes, then at last the front door opened, showing the haggard visage of his fellow Marauder.

"Moony, come on in. Sorry, took me a few minutes to find the wardbook," he held the door open for Remus to enter, then shut and locked it behind them.

"I tried to firecall first, but your elf said you were asleep…"

"Hm? Yes, for once Kreacher was telling the truth, the foul little beast."

Remus eyed his friend carefully. "It's mid-afternoon, Sirius. Everything all right?"

"To be honest, it's been a tough adjustment, being a free man again. I spend most of the day in my dog form; just makes things easier to deal with, y'know?"

"I can imagine-"

"No. You really can't." Neither man said anything for a long moment, "It's just so hard to keep everything straight!"

"Have you, has anyone talked with you? Have you been to St. Mungo's yet?"

"Just a physical examination," Sirius walked to a nearby cupboard and came back with a bottle of firewhiskey. "Oh, don't make that face, Moony! Share a drink with your ol' pal."

Remus eyed his friend warily. Sirius' mood was skipping between cheerfully upbeat, bitter and resentful, and despairing at high speed. "It's a bit early for hard alcohol… Actually, should you be drinking at all?"

"C'mon now, that's no attitude to take. You had no problem knocking 'em back with me at Hogwarts!"

"That was more than fifteen years ago, Sirius. Here, give me that bottle, let's sit and talk for a minute."

Sirius obeyed, handing over the firewhiskey, but instead of sitting he paced back and forth in the parlor. "Talk, sure, but I've had twelve years of sitting."

"Okay, want to go somewhere?"

"How about the Leaky?"

Sirius nodded, and the two stepped out the front door and apparated to Charing Cross. Once they were inside, Sirius called out to Tom for two shots of Ogden's. "You want anything, Remus?"

"A cup of tea, Tom, thanks," Sirius threw back one of the shots, belching a small gout of flame.

"Sirius, get ahold of yourself."

"Shut up! I don't need any lectures from you. Not after you left me in that hellhole for more than a decade."

"We thought you'd betrayed James, no one knew that Peter was the Secret Keeper. I'm sorry, I really am. It may not mean much now, but if I could change the past, I would, in a heartbeat."

Sirius finished his second shot, motioning to Tom for another. "It's done now, anyway. And with Peter dead and buried, I've got other things to worry about. Dumbledore told me he had you and Moody looking for Harry."

"We were, yes."

"So what happened?"

"MACUSA aurors picked us up outside of Ilvermorny. Spent two weeks in a jail cell before they deported us back to England. We never caught sight of the boy, but it's a good bet he's still there."

"And so you've just given up? Just like that?"

Remus sighed. "It's complicated. Technically, Selwyn is Harry's guardian; if he were to return, he'd live with Marius - surely you can see that it's not in his best interests to come back so long as that is the case."

"Well, I'm his godfather. He should live with me!"

"The Wizengamot themselves assigned his custody, it's not that simple. Besides… Sirius, look at yourself."

"What? What's that supposed to mean?"

He tried to choose his words carefully. "You said you spend most of your days as Padfoot. A few minutes after transforming, you were already reaching for a drink. Do you think that you're in any shape to take care of a kid that's gone through what Harry has?"

Sirius' eyes bored holes into Remus, "He's my godson. You'll forgive me if I disregard parenting advice from you, who's spent all of two hours with Harry in the last decade!"

His eyes downcast, Remus couldn't necessarily disagree, "I can't argue with that, but-"

"But nothing. Tell Dumbledore to lean on the MACUSA in the ICW, to do whatever he has to. I want my godson back."

"Sirius…"

"I'll owl my solicitors, get them to start drafting a challenge to Selwyn's guardianship. Until then, you can take your mothering and fuck right off, Lupin," he finished the drink Tom had placed in front of him, and turned away from his old friend.

January 7, 1994

"...so while you have my deepest thanks for your assistance, I will not be taking my Transfiguration NEWT, or pursuing a Mastery at Ilvermorny."

Silence followed the end of Harry's pronouncement, with Manny and Professor Howe both weighing the younger boy's words. They exchanged a confused look, before Howe spoke, "But, with these scores, you're eligible. All your work over the last six months, it actually paid off," he gestured towards the OWL results that Harry had shown them when he'd entered the Professor's office. "Why would you not at least try?"

Harry pursed his lips, glancing at the awards and certifications behind Howe's desk. "There is a task awaiting me back in Great Britain. Until it's complete, I can't afford to focus on anything else."

"What task are you talking about?" Manny asked.

"It's Family business," Harry replied, the capital 'F' clearly enunciated in his words. "I'm afraid I can't say anything more."

Howe looked at the OWL scores once more, handing them back to Harry with a grim look. "Well, I can't say I'm not disappointed, especially since that means your time at Ilvermorny will soon be coming to an end. What will you do from now until the end of term?"

"With your permission, I would still like to assist you and Manny with his research. And… Professor, Manny has been working with me on my battle transfiguration. I was wondering if you might offer some advice in that area?"

"Has he?" Manny looked a little uncomfortable under Howe's penetrating gaze. "Unfortunately, I doubt there is much in the way of combat magic that I would be able to help you with. Besides my service year, I was never in the aurors, and have had no reason to pursue the more violent uses of our art."

"I see," Harry's disappointment was written clearly on his face.

"I think you'll find that most wizards don't put as much emphasis on learning destructive magic as you do, Harry. Some other professors have expressed concern over your single-mindedness in that regard; while I've defended you to them, I can't deny it is worrisome that you find your already advanced abilities to be insufficient."

"Very well," Harry collected his test results and excused himself from the office.

He'd not traveled far down the corridor before a familiar voice called out to him. "Harry! Wait up!"

"What is it, Manny?" 'I swear, if this is another lecture…'

"I just wanted to say, we're still on for our duel later today."

"So you're not worried that I'm learning too much violent magic?" It might even be true, but Harry was tired of hearing how 'concerned' people were over the focus of his magical learning.

"Heh, well, you are The-Boy-Who-Lived. And if half of what Sasha says is written about you is true, I can understand why you'd want to be able to fight."

Harry was surprised at how much the Mastery student's approval mattered to him. "Thanks, Manny. That means a lot."

"The thing is, you're already fighting me and Jacobs to a standstill. I'm not sure just how much more you'll learn from the two of us."

"But-"

"However," Manny continued, "I think I have an idea that could help you. My great uncle was an auror in the Magical Expeditionary Force that the MACUSA sent to fight Grindelwald in the '40s. He was a transfiguration specialist; I can write to him and see if he's able to meet with you."

"That'd be great. Thank you, Manny, I mean it."

"After everything you've done to help me, it's nothing. Professor Howe says my research will be ready for publication by the spring equinox; after that, my Mastery is all but assured."

Harry gave him a genuine smile. "Congratulations, you deserve it!"

"Thanks. After that, I'll be on the job market, so let's make the most of the time we've got left."

"Look who it is, Susan Bones! We missed you!"

"Hi Neville, hello Luna. It's good to see you both again."

Neville and Luna took a seat across from the Hufflepuff, seeing her for the first time since the train ride last September. "You're looking well."

"Oh, shut it. I'm as big as a house." Spending most of the summer and all of the fall in a sedentary state had allowed Susan to regain all of the weight she'd lost, and then some. "You don't need to sugarcoat it, Neville."

"But things are so much sweeter when you do, aren't they?" Luna asked. "I think I'll go find the snack cart."

Once she'd left, Susan raised an eyebrow at her childhood friend. "So, you've taken her under your wing since Harry's gone?"

"I've tried to. Hasn't always gone according to plan," he responded, rubbing his chest absentmindedly. "She never fails to surprise me though. Keeps things interesting."

"I'll bet she does," Susan looked out the window, trying to sound as casual as possible. "You haven't heard anything from Harry, have you?"

"I'm sorry, Susan. No."

"Well, I'm sure wherever he is, he's all right."

"He will come back, you know that, don't you?"

Susan held her head high. "Maybe he will, maybe he won't. Obviously, we weren't as close as I had thought."

"Susan…"

"What? Even Hermione sent me letters."

Before Neville could reply, he heard laughter coming from the corridor. Luna slid inside their compartment, but before she could close the door a hand held it open.

"I'd heard you were back, but I had to see for myself," Pansy Parkinson, accompanied by Milicent Bulstrode and Lilith Moon, stood at the door. "What, did someone come and drag you off the streets of Knockturn away from all the other buffers*?"

"Sod off, Parkinson," Neville stood up protectively, "Go back to your own compartment."

"I'm embarrassed for you, Longbottom. You may be half squib, but even you can do better than a junkie and a mental patient."

He drew his wand. "You're about to find out just how much of a squib I am, Parkinson."

She laughed gaily, tucking her short black hair behind her ear. "Come on, girls. Let's go spread the news that the Potions Princess is back." The three girls' giggles continued down the carriage as Neville slammed the door closed.

February 1, 1994

Chief Warlock Frederick Fawley stifled a yawn. When he'd accepted the nomination to the top position in the Wizengamot, he hadn't thought of just how much work there would be. 'I do so miss being able to pick and choose which sessions I attended,' he thought wistfully. 'Who would have thought an entire session could be wasted debating the regulation of firewhiskey advertising?'

At least it was over. "Last call for any miscellaneous items of business," his gavel hovered, ready to close the session.

"Chief Warlock, if I may?"

Fawley held back his groan. "Lord Nott has the floor."

"Lords and Ladies, it has been nearly two months since Lord Black was freed from his unjust imprisonment. Two months of requesting that the DMLE produce definitive proof that the investigations and trials of those confined in the High Security Wing of Azkaban are guilty. Two months, and no further information."

"Those Death Eaters had trials, and were convicted by this very body-"

Fawley banged his gavel. "Madam Bones, please. Lord Nott has the floor."

Octavius Nott continued. "Since our requests have not been honored in a satisfactory manner, I propose that we transfer those convicted after the war into the general population, until we can be sure that Barty Crouch didn't transfer his son's guilt onto other innocent witches and wizards."

"This is an outrage! I won't be slandered in such a way!"

"Silence, Lord Crouch!"

"I will not be! They were guilty, and admitted as such! You can't let those monsters go free, or they'll pick right back up where they left-"

Fawley used his control of the chamber's wards to enforce silence. Once Crouch, red-faced but his lips pressed in a firm line, had returned to his seat, he lowered the wards and motioned for Nott to go on.

"You can see that even now, he has no regret over denying justice. Our society will never move past those troubled times until such vendettas can be set aside. I call for a vote."

"Seconded!" That was Caractacus Burke.

"Very well," Fawley called for a vote, which passed on a narrow margin. "Madam Bones, the Wizengamot has spoken. Please send me confirmation of the transfer of the prisoners."

"Dedworth, Mulciber. I hear you had a bit of a scuffle today."

The two Slytherin First Years looked up from scrubbing cauldrons. "That's right." Dedworth carefully replied, on edge around Draco since their encounter in the corridor the previous term.

"Well, out with it. Let's hear what happened."

Mulciber started off. "Um, these two Gryffindors insulted Greengrass after Herbology. Something about her getting stuck in the mud-"

"They made some joke about muggle machines and mud trails, and called her 'Hot Wheels'." Dedworth interrupted.

"It doesn't matter. Go on," Draco ordered.

"Well, Simon and I weren't going to let some jumped-up halfblood get away with that. We each hit him with a Knockback Jinx and then gave 'em a few kicks to go along with it. The other Gryffs got involved, then Sprout came out of the greenhouse and broke up the fight."

Draco looked over the two of them, a hint of a smile appearing on his lips. "I'm glad to hear you've taken our last conversation to heart. I'd like you to point out which students were making jokes tomorrow in the Great Hall."

"Okay, we can do that."

"Great!" Draco clapped his hands together and opened the classroom door. "Now, let's go back to the Common Room. You two have demonstrated that you're just the type of wizard that our world needs more of. I'd like to talk to you more about how you can help."

"But, our detention…" Dedworth motioned towards the stacks of dirty cauldrons.

"Not to worry. Come on in!" At Draco's call, a half-dozen First and Second Year Slytherin students entered the classroom and got to work on the cauldrons. "Real wizards and witches stick together. When you stand up for one of us, I'll always ensure your actions don't go unrewarded."

Meanwhile in the Library, Astoria was recounting her day to her older sister and her friends.

"Who were the little bastards that were making fun of you?" Daphne hissed. "I want their names."

"Daph! Let it go. Simon and Louis stood up for me. They won't bother me again."

"Isn't Dedworth the one who carries your bag between all your classes?" Blaise asked in a teasing tone. "Sounds like someone's got a little crush on you."

"Blaise!" Astoria cried out, her cheeks red. "It's not like that."

"Oh?" Daphne asked, hiding a grin. "Tell us what it's like then."

Astoria looked down at her lap before meeting her sister's gaze, tears pooling in her eyes. "It's just- I always wished I could have friends, and now-, well, it's even better than I'd imagined…"

Daphne's hand went to her mouth, and in a moment the two sisters were embracing each other. "I'm so happy for you, Tori," she mumbled into her sister's hair.

Harry read through the letter from Perrault, detailing the latest developments in the Wizengamot, before tucking it away in his robes. The sudden concern over the treatment of imprisoned Death Eaters was concerning. And the whole business of Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew… Harry didn't know what to make of it.

Still, there would be time to worry about who actually murdered the Potters in the future. For now, he was more concerned with those responsible for Norm and Diane's deaths. He mulled over his custody being assigned to Marius Selwyn. There was an opportunity there, but in what way? Something told him, some certainty inside him just knew that Norm and Diane were targeted because they took in the Boy-Who-Lived, not simply because they were muggles raising a magical child. Selwyn, as one of the leaders of the Traditionalist faction, would likely have some knowledge of who would be inclined to take action.

'Like he'd tell me, though,' Harry thought, 'Especially after my campaign against the PPP with Lockhart.' He'd need to ingratiate himself to the purebloods in some way. Maybe Sam would have an idea?

Presently, he stood with the rest of the Ilvermorny student body, everyone waiting at the gates for retired Master Auror Francisco Jimenez. Harry had been surprised that such a ceremony would be offered (dinner would normally be starting right now), but Manny had explained that his great-uncle was one of only four living recipients of the Congressional Merit of Valor, the MACUSA's highest honor.

A portkey arrival flashed just outside the gates, and the enchanted instruments that Headmaster Fontaine had wrangled from somewhere launched into the Magical Congress's national anthem. An elderly man in blue and white robes, an array of medals pinned to his chest, walked inside the open gates.

Fontaine and Ilvermorny's department heads approached and shook the Master Auror's hand. The Headmaster cast a sonorous and gave a brief introduction, explaining some of the actions that Jimenez had taken part in during the war against the Grindelwald. Following that speech, the Master Auror made a few brief remarks, focused on the importance of sacrifice and loyalty, and called for a blessing from the gods on the MACUSA. With that, the formalities concluded and the students streamed back towards the castle, eager to get out of the cold and have a warm meal.

"So, you're Harry Potter. I've heard quite a bit about you from Manuel."

"I hope I can live up to his words. It's an honor to meet you, sir."

Francisco Jimenez was nearly one hundred years old, his face worn from years in the sun. A pair of spectacles obscured brown eyes which were sharp and calculating as he gazed at the young English teen. "I understand you've taken an interest in battle transfiguration. I'd like to see what you can do."

"Great-Uncle, Harry has an exceptional affinity for transfiguration, and quite a bit of power behind his spells. He's been conjuring wandlessly and nonverbally since before he was eleven years old, and-"

Francisco gave his nephew a dismissive glance. "If I wanted to hear about his abilities, I'd have read his book. I'll figure out how good he is by myself, thank you."

Harry took a quick glance around. Fontaine, Howe, and Manny's faces all went pale. "Uh, sir, I don't know that's the best idea."

The elderly man barked out a harsh laugh. "The arrogance of youth! Come along, child."

Most of the faculty and the Mastery students tagged along, both eager and concerned about how this would play out. The winter air was whipping across the mountaintop, even the densest wood on the grounds providing little in the way of insulation. Harry raised his hood, settling into place just inside the woods, near the courtyard where practice duels were typically carried out.

Russell stepped forward to cast the dueling wards, but Professor Batisseur held him back. "I'll handle this, if you don't mind."

As the Runes professor made to lay out the wards, Francisco removed his wand from his sleeve. With one hand on his walking stick, the other holding his wand pointed to the ground, he did not make for an imposing figure at first glance. The strength of his posture and the hardening of his expression, though, spoke to the elderly man's readiness.

Harry tried one last time. "You're sure you want to duel me, sir?"

"No, I want you to try and fight me. Now quit stalling, boy!"

Batisseur stood between the two. "Would you gentlemen like me to count you down?"

"Just get out of the way and let's get on with it."

"Transfiguration only?"

Francisco chuckled, "You can use whatever tricks you've got up your sleeve. Hell, you can throw a rock at me if you think that'll work. First to draw blood wins."

Manny's groan was the most audible, but the majority of those in attendance had seen Harry duel before. The anxiety ratcheted up a notch.

The two stared hard at each other, until Francisco's wand arm twitched and Harry sprang into motion. Stepping backwards, he held out both hands and two stone columns grew out of the ground, twisting and turning as they sped towards the retired auror.

The columns paused momentarily, then turned back towards Harry, who had to jump to the side as they smashed into the ground he'd been standing on. 'He overrode my animation charm with his own?'

From the ground, Harry threw out one arm and a half-dozen stone cubes formed on the ground, taking shape into wolves. Before the transfiguration was complete, however, Jimenez had transfigured them into rose bushes. 'How is he assuming control of my transfigurations?!'

Harry lashed out with his magic, lifting the ground beneath Francisco and launching the old man into the air. He heard the old man clearly enunciate "Arresto momentum!" slowing his descent, his wand in constant motion as he glided back to the ground.

The grove around Harry exploded into motion. Trees uprooted themselves and advanced on him; the ground beneath his feet liquefied, causing him to sink downwards; stone fists erupted from the ground and shot towards him; dead sticks on the ground transformed into snakes, dead leaves into swarms of scorpions; all of this in the 10 seconds that Francisco drifted back to the ground.

Harry was overwhelmed, but tried to defend as best he could. Stone jaws intercepted the fists, blunting their momentum and pulling them off target. Ivory flames incinerated the transfigured animals and insects. A magical shockwave blasted back the animated trees. Having countered all of the attacks, Harry turned his gaze back to Francisco, only to have his vision filled with the silver light of a cutting curse.

He touched his hand to his cheek, wiping away the blood that flowed from the shallow cut on his cheek. He'd been completely outclassed from the moment the fight began.

Their assembled audience applauded the Master Auror enthusiastically, while Professor Grayson healed the cut on his cheek.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter, but this one's going to scar. That was a Dark cutting curse, they don't heal the way that standard Severing Charms do."

"I wanted to make sure you didn't forget the lesson I just taught you, boy," Francisco walked over, mopping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "Let that scar be a reminder that there's always someone better. Come, let's walk and talk." Turning back to the crowd of Mastery students and faculty, he loudly announced, "Show's over, folks!"

As the crowd wandered away to grab a late dinner, Harry fell into step next to the elder Jimenez. "You've got incredible potential, Potter - don't take this loss too hard. Now, I'm sure you've got some questions. Ask away."

"How did you take control of my columns like that?"

"You were transfiguring the ground, animating the columns, and conjuring earth to replace what you transfigured at the same time. With your focus split so many ways, it wasn't difficult for my animation charm to override your own. Once I had controlled the movement of your columns, you were too slow to cut out the base conjuration and transfiguration, so it was child's play to turn it back on you."

"I see," Harry thought back to that sequence of events. Less than a minute had lapsed from Francisco asserting control over his columns to him using them against Harry. "And you figured that out so quickly?"

"There are only so many ways someone could pull that off. It's a creative move, though, I'll give you that."

"How did you cast so many transfiguration spells at once in that last round of attacks?"

"I knew you'd ask that," they'd reached the courtyard just outside the entrance to the castle, where Jimenez conjured two seats. "You don't mind, do you? I'd like to avoid causing any more of a distraction than I already have."

Shivering slightly in the winter air, Harry looked longingly at the castle, but took a seat nonetheless. "Sure."

"Are you a wizard, or aren't you? Don't you know the warming charm, boy?"

Cheeks burning, not just from the cold, Harry muttered, "I have a hard time with Charms."

Francisco gave him a speculative look, but cast a warming charm over the teen anyway. "Now, you were wondering about my Transfiguration Blitz. First of all, I'll say that I had been an auror for several decades before I could pull it off. But based on what I saw, it isn't beyond your ability.

"In essence, I did what I criticized you for earlier - I transfigured them and cast weak animation charms as I did. If you'd tried, you could have assumed control over any of my creations, beyond maybe the animated trees. The point of this technique is to have so many attacks at once that your opponent is either tied up defending, which leaves them open to attack; or they are overwhelmed by the wave of transfigurations and are taken down."

"But how were you able to maintain the animation on the trees and still hit me with a cutting curse? Controlling objects of that size and mass requires a lot of concentration and magic."

Francisco smiled at Harry for the first time since they'd met. "You really do have a gift. Think back to the fight. Given the nature of the Blitz, it's not surprising you didn't notice, but the animation on the trees was intermittent. I'd let the charms lapse and renew them in between my other spellcasting."

"That's rather brilliant."

"Ha!" the old man gave a sharp laugh, "Grindelwald's Chief Acolyte thought so too, before it killed him, that is."

"Can you teach me how to do it?"

"Do I look like a teacher, boy? I explained the theory. You've got the power, you have the skill, put it together yourself. Only reason I showed up today is my nephew says he's finishing his Mastery a year early because of your assistance. My family's honor was at stake."

The retired auror's gruff attitude took Harry aback. "Manny is my friend, sir, he doesn't owe me anything for helping him."

"If that's how you really feel, then you can owe him one. Now, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to spend some time with Manuel. Would you mind fetching him for me?"

Harry stood and vanished his conjured chair as he did so "Yes sir. He'll be right out. And thank you, sir," his fingers grazed the sealed cut on his face. "I won't forget what you taught me today."

** According to google, a buffer is English slang someone who exchanges sex for drugs

A/N: Short update. I'm moving (like, literally as I type this) so it'll probably be about a week til my next chapter while i unpack.

Welcome my new beta, Nauze!

I'm feeling really good about this story lately, and a lot of that is because of the great reviews I've had. I've been slowly sending out thank-yous to my reviewers, considering a Discord channel (so I can avoid using FFN's private messaging system). What would you guys think about that?

Happy Independence Day to all the Americans! - Frickles