A/N: Second chapter today- if you're feeling lost, go back one!

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September 2nd, 1974

The Daily Prophet was a worthwhile investment and so Harry had set up a delivery rounds for himself as soon as he'd got up the next morning. It was a hike to the owlery, and quite chilly, but it certainly woke him up.

"Here, come on," he coaxed a fine, brown school owl down. He sent off five sickles, a ten month student subscription to the newspaper. He'd asked his new Housemates last night what the price was, and was pleased to hear of the student discount and that prices were clearly generally lower in 1974 for Daily Prophet deliveries.

He'd also furiously avoided eye contact with a knobbly kneed teenage Snape, who was wildly curious about him. The dangerously thin boy managed to contain most of curiosity last night when Harry went to shut himself in his bed before nine, but Harry felt, given the chance, Snape would have a barrage of questions ready.

The sharp mind and quick tongue he'd had as an adult hadn't yet hardened with years of acidic experience, but the thirst to stick his nose in everyone's business surely was present.

He headed back to the dungeons after going up four floors on the Grand Staircase on his way to Gryffindor Tower. He wanted a hot shower, and was starting to get hungry as the sun yawned its way over the Scottish countryside.

He muttered the password ("Fabelwesen") and made his way to the neatly concealed narrow stairs to the dormitories. His dormitory was the sixteenth door up, a gleaming light wood door. Harry rather liked the Slytherin House, although it did have that certain ominous decoration-style, with muted colours and the lurching watery depths of the lake walling in one side of the common room.

He'd managed to not wake his fellow students, and crept into the washroom just shy of half-past six. By the time he'd emerged from his hot soak, he felt liberated (the orphanage never afforded such water wasting) and his Housemates had all awoken to various states of still-too-tired. Only Snape sat peacefully on his made bed, lying on his stomach reading from a slim novel.

Harry cheerfully got his robes on and slid his satchel over one shoulder. Now, he was starving for some Hogwarts breakfast. He felt like Ron likely did every meal ever.

Biting into his cantaloupe, Harry wondered for the millionth time why he was eating it. He didn't like cantaloupe, it tasted like watery something-not-good. But he continued to methodically eat the two thick slices he'd slid onto his plate. The toast and jam was much more satisfying, as were the eggs.

He felt like he kind of liked to do things he didn't like, just sometimes.

Snape, unsurprisingly, sat down next to Harry, hands twitching with interest. At least he'd scarfed some food down before the interrogation begun.

Without preamble he said drily, "What an accent you have, for a Frenchman."

"We were taught British English in school." Harry said after swallowing the last of his unsatisfying cantaloupe, feeling like he'd accomplished something. "I've been told my birth family could've been British, too."

"Oh, of course, that could make sense." The narrow eyes of his Housemate said something different.

"Snape's always looking for a mystery, I swear it," said a girl loudly, sitting opposite Harry. "Don't mind it. Or him. He'll scurry away to his books soon enough."

"Shut up," the boy snarled. Harry thought his hurt was plainly obvious. Snape seemed to be pretty overly defensive, but it wasn't his place to get in the middle of that outburst. Maybe he just liked snarling- it had certainly been Harry's experience.

The owls began to flood in above their heads, swooping for deliveries- and snacks from loving owners. Harry was pleasantly surprised to receive his first Daily Prophet mail. He had to look into magical owl breeding, and whatever the damn hell made them fly so fast. He had sent for a subscription just over an hour and half ago, at most.

Warbeck on Wiggleworm

Wiggleworm flu is making its rounds, in all circles it appears. The latest in a grievous outbreak of the pest-sourced flu, famed personality and singer Celestina Warbeck has been admitted to Saint Mungo's with the newest strain...

Harry flipped through, giving the sports column a glance as a particularly handsome dive caught the Dublin Quidditch team the snitch. The page four spread was where he faltered- he might've even overlooked it, already having considered the day's paper to be nothing more than trivial tidbits. But there it was, buried in a long-winded political spiel of the page four... the Knights of Walpurgis, it read.

It had to be Riddle. His old school gang's name? Couldn't be coincidence.

With more care, Harry let his eyes settle on the top of the page, taking in every word.

Fall Sessions Commence

With the Murk Paterfamilias leading the helm this Monday, the second of September, the Wizengamot called their third public session in without Chief Warlock. After the untimely death of former Chief Loswren, the parties were held off on assignment-of-Chief pending under investigation. Paterfamilias Black was unanimously intended for position Chief Warlock, that is until the Department of Law Enforcement halted proceedings three sessions ago.

The floor opened four months ago, after the close of Spring open sessions, for relevant parties to propose coalition, formation, and establishment to the Wizengamot. In a short term shocker, a new contender for party majority emerged only two weeks before opening of fall sessions and closing of proposals. The rather romantically-named Knights of Walpurgis hold 29 percent of Wizengamot members in favour of the proposition given, after merely two weeks deliberation.

Public sessions now being open will allow us and our readers to explore the political trajectory that the Wizengamot is now diving towards, and with such hasty fervour. Expecting much of these sweetly called Knights, we most certainly will.

We continue watching out, even more so, for DMLE interference of the Wizengamot to fade. If not Paterfamilias Black, who would be intended for Chief? It had been discussed extensively, and from reliable sources the names of Rowle, Jenkins, and even Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, have been mentioned as contenders. The investigation in name of Chief Loswren...

The Knights of Walpurgis were not mentioned in the rest of the paper, and Harry really scoured it this time. Thoroughly and while angrily munching buttered toast.

"Something the matter?" The girl across Harry had reached out a hand to his arm, over the biscuits. Harry shook his head to rid his face of the eerie intensity it may have gained.

"Nothing." He smiled. "Maybe a bit of a headache coming on. I think I'll look around for a bit, until class." The schedule said first up at nine, Defence Against the Dark Arts. They had time. Harry abruptly left the breakfast table- he was finished eating anyways- and left before anyone else could take an interest in him.

He dove behind a portrait of a town founder from the 1500s near the Grand Staircase, that should lead to the third floor despite having no stairs.

This shortcut was not as short as he'd remembered, in fact, it seemed to be a complete different route. Could passages change like the staircases? Harry couldn't recall that ever happening.

Well, he also hadn't ever time travelled 24 years into the past, or turned back into a fourteen year old before. Shit happens.

As he turned down another left he skidded to a stop, quietly as he could.

Harry ducked back around the corner, seeing two outlines talking in hushed tones. Beyond that was a small door- finally, the passageway came to an end. Harry'd been a little worried the castle had swallowed him.

But hidden discussions never bode well, he knew from a lot of experience, and so he leaned around the side to observe (overhear) the two people obstructing the path back to the main floors.

"You're one of my favourite people, Rem, probably my favourite person. You're always here, you know? For me, I mean." Sirius coughed into his hand, most likely just trying to hide his red cheeks.

Remus was stood there silently, but in his head he was screaming. Me, me, me? Me over James? He took a couple breaths, trying not to overreact. It was a plain statement, a throwaway, it meant nothing. "Y-yeah...you're of my favourite people, too." His and Sirius' eyes went wide when Remus was shoved forward- and his suddenly his lips were pressed to Sirius.

"Hahaha! Black and Loopy sitting in a tree!" Peeves yelled. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" he swooped through the corridor's ceiling.

Remus and Sirius however, were frozen. Remus had a muggleborn mother, who was raised in the muggle world, and a straight father. Homosexuality was not a topic broached in their household. His mother still found it distasteful that magic folk disregarded heteronormative lifestyle. Remus was frozen because this had never crossed his mind. Sirius had an aunt on both sides of the family that were gay, and a cousin who had a long string of male paramours. Sirius was frozen only because this was Remus, one of his best friends.

Neither was pulling away though, with faces so close they were almost touching.

Sirius put a hand up to stop Remus from saying anything when he looked like he would literally vomit words. "Look, Rem... I know what people say about me but that was my first proper kiss and..."

"It was my first kiss too- I'm sorry Sirius, I really hadn't meant to." Remus wished Peeves was alive, so he could kill him.

Letting out a sigh, Sirius ran his fingers through his shaggy head of hair. "It was just- really- a touching of lips, so it doesn't have to actually mean anything. You were pushed forward by that stupid Poltergeist, it wasn't like it was on purpose." He swallowed, his foot starting to tap on the floor. "Yes, you are one of my greatest friends, and... well, we can just forget it happened, if you want. If we want. It meant nothing." Remus was shocked at how hard it was to hear the last sentence, he'd barely begun to notice how Sirius looked quite grown up this year, and had lovely arms.

Biting his bottom lip, Remus was still thinking about how soft the other boy's lips were. But what he said was, "Yeah, right, of course we can just forget anything happened, and continue being friends. The great friends we are, but just that. I mean, forget what? Nothing to forget-"

It happened fast, shocking the young werewolf when he was yanked forward.

Sirius had turned on his heel and shoved Remus into the wall, kissing him hard while gripping both of his shoulders, his eyes screwed shut. Remus let out a small breathy sound, before closing his own eyes and kissing Sirius back; both not doing a sloppy job of it as they'd never kissed anyone before and were copying what they'd seen from peers and parents. Sirius felt a shiver go through his body, he slowly opened his eyes at the same time Remus decided to, both of them really seeing each other in this new, very attractive light.

"...This isn't forgetting it, is it?" Sirius said, scant centimetres from Remus' thin mouth.

"...No... it's not..." Remus leaned forward, capturing Sirius's lips with his own once again.

The two fourteen year old boys slowed the pace of their kissing, both embarrassed by their lack of experience but all the more eager to learn. Sirius' hands slid down to Remus' lean waist and they broke the kiss again, breathing deeply, warm in a very nice way.

Harry felt extremely out of his depth. He hadn't known either of the men to be gay, or even bisexual, but that would explain a lot of subtext in their relationship in Harry's future. And even more so, it explained better Remus' reluctance to pursue Tonks if he had once been intimate with Sirius, who had only recently passed.

Can learn something new everyday, he thought.

Mostly he was just embarrassed and uncomfortable he'd watched two men he considered to be pseudo-parental figures have their first kiss with each other, while he lurked in the hallway like a pervert.

"We should get back, we've got to tell James and Peter it all worked out, and we won't be anywhere near late to DADA."

"And, er-"

"We could tell them," Sirius said haltingly. "About, um, this."

"Or we could wait," Remus said quickly. "See where we go, er, and all."

"Right," Sirius said with more confidence. "Right, yes, good."

And the two Marauders made for the same door Harry was waiting to use, their unknown spectator.