Sirius blinked himself awake and drew his travelling cloak tight around his shoulders, to keep out the rattling breeze from the Arctic Sea. Icy spray splashed in through the bars on the window, before freezing on Sirius' stubble. It was getting long now, and he would have to shave it soon.

It was the first thing on his agenda ... just as soon as he got out of this prison.

"Well, old girl, this is some predicament we've gotten ourselves into."

Sirius's voice hung in the bracing air a moment, and it wasn't immediately clear to whom he was speaking. But just then, an enormous shaggy-haired bloodhound stepped from inside his chest and stretched her limbs, as if waking from the longest slumber.

Sirius grinned at the huge dog. "Looks like you needed that."

"Well, it has been several years since you last took me for a walk!"

"I suppose that's why you haven't given me a kiss yet, then!"

And with that, the bloodhound bounded over to Sirius and began licking his face furiously. It helped to clear the ice build up on his eyebrows, but soon Sirius was swatting the dog away.

"Alright, alright, Padfiette! That's quite enough of that!" Sirius admonished with a chuckle, scratching his once-again exposed dæmon behind her ears. "It's good to see you again, old girl."

"I never went away," Padfiette replied loftily, sitting back on her haunches. "I was always there, just out of sight. And less of the old, if you please."

Sirius chortled lowly again. "Well, I'm glad our little power still works. I need a friend right about now."

"How did this happen? I think I was sleeping when you were attacked."

"The portal back to our world closed when we were on the run back through," Sirius explained. "There was an elf involved, I saw the little blighter. That's what made me hesitate. He was hiding, in the doorway between worlds. I don't think Malcolm or Serafina saw him, or maybe he slipped in when they went through. Either way, Dust illuminated him. But before I could react, he clicked his bony fingers and closed the portal."

"And we were trapped here," Padfiette completed solemnly. "Then the bears came."

"Dakur Ragnasson," Sirius confirmed. "Of all the bears to be picked up by, we had to run into that crazy pup."

"I would hardly call him a pup," Padfiette considered sternly. "He could crush your skull to splinters with a single blow."

"True, but I wonder if he still wants to overthrow Iorek Brynison," Sirius mused. "That might give us an angle."

"Assuming we can live long enough. We don't even know why they've imprisoned us. Why not just kill us?"

"Tom Riddle, at a guess," Sirius replied with a growl. "He has the whole of the North under his boot at this point. The bears are the only thing he doesn't control. I'd bet my fortune that his mind is bent on changing that. Merlin help us if Iorek cant hold his territory against this usurper. We'd all be in jeopardy if Riddle got control of the panserbjorne."

"We have to think of a plan," Padfiette insisted, pacing around the ice prison. "Where are we?"

"Kvitoya, that was Dakur's ancestral Holdfast," Sirius replied.

"So not only do we have to find a way to escape, we also need a way off this frozen island," Padfiette summarised. "It wont be easy. Where's your wand?"

"They took it," Sirius revealed. "Which is why I'm sure Riddle is behind this. They knew to look for my wand. How else would they have been so well informed, without a wizard to advise them?"

"Then we can assume Tom Riddle is coming for you, too," Padfiette returned. "And coming quickly. Our situation doesn't seem to be getting any better."

"Nonsense, we still have the advantage for the moment," Sirius replied brightly. "We have a secret weapon ... you."

"Ah, my special nature."

"Precisely!" Sirius crowed. "You are a dæmonlike no other. You have no scent, the dæmon-less creatures cant even see you if you stand still. You are invisible to them."

"So the plan is for me to slip by the guards, fetch your wand like a good little doggy, then we fight our way free?"

"Simple, but effective."

"It's like Azkaban all over again," Padfiette growled. "And those silly Dementors were no match for us, either. The bears have made a mistake this time."

"Yes, and we've been here far too long already. I'm getting bored," Sirius announced wryly, standing up and pulling his sleeves straight. "You know something? I'm almost annoyed by this! Almost."

"Before we do this, do we have a plan of escape once we're away from the bears?" asked Padfiette. "Or will we wing it as usual?"

"No, we have a plan this time," Sirius disclosed. "And we have friends here, too. All we have to do is get to my wand, then we can Apparate out of here."

"To where?"

"Frank and Alice Longbottom," Sirius replied. "If we have any chance of getting home, they are it. And they wont stand around and let us rot here. They'll be on their way. They can help us reopen the portal."

"But how? I hope you aren't suggesting a sacrifice to blast it open?"

"No, we aren't separating anyone... but fusion might work just as well," Sirius grinned.

Padfiette looked at Sirius with her big, round eyes. "You're going to give them our secret?"

Sirius nodded. "If we can permanently fuse Frank and Alice's dæmons back to their bodies, the energy release might just be enough to crack open a route home. And I'm pretty sure they'd be motivated. After all, they have a son they've not seen in over ten years. That must be worth risking anything for."

While Sirius was busy in another world, plotting his daring escape from one bind, Harry was happily being bound up in his. Or, more precisely, tucked in. It had been a long time since Lily had been able to fold the covers in around her sleepy son, but as he was now mere minutes away from turning twelve years old, they both knew the days in which it was appropriate to do so were rushing away fast.

It wasn't a situation either of them was at all happy with.

"So, excited for tomorrow?" Lily cooed, smoothing the quilt down over Harry's shoulders.

"Yes, very," Harry grinned. "It's not every day you turn twelve, is it? And in the night ... well, I cant wait for that!"

"I bet," Lily smiled softly. "Your Dad and I are so jealous, just so you know. We'd have gotten tickets ourselves but, well, we didn't want to cramp your style."

"Cramp my style?" Harry quirked with a furrowed expression. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, we didn't want to get in the way while you and Hermione were having a good time," Lily hushed. "We thought you might want some space ... just in case."

"In case what?" Harry frowned.

"Oh, you know, in case there was a goodbye kiss in the offing, or something. We wouldn't want to spoil that for you. For either of you."

Harry felt his entire body blush hotly under his quilt. "No, Mum. It isn't like that."

"It never is," Lily replied wryly.

"We're just going to see the band, that's all."

"It's alright, Harry," Lily crooned. "We really like Hermione. She's a lovely girl. We approve, you know."

"Approve? Of what?"

Lily cocked a curious eyebrow at him. "Are you really this dense, or just pretending? For I feel it would be harder to pretend, than to come across as dopey as you are!"

"I am not dopey!" Harry protested. "Well, maybe just a little bit. How could I not be, with a father like mine? But what is it you approve of?"

"If you really don't know, then it doesn't matter just yet," Lily smiled softly. "Right, you'd better get some sleep. You have a big day tomorrow."

Lily leaned over and kissed Harry on the head as he snuggled down into his covers. Lily stopped at the door and turned back to her son.

"Light on?"

"No, you can turn it off," Harry replied brightly. "I'm not really afraid of the dark anymore. Hermione showed me how not to be scared of it."

"I bet she did," Lily grinned. "Even more reason to approve. Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Mum," Harry returned with a yawn. A minute later and he was snoring away.

Lily watched through a crack in the door until she could mark the passage of the seconds by the rise and fall of Harry's slumbering shoulders. Then she ambled across the living area and slid onto the sofa. She turned to James, who was over by the kitchen.

"Harry's asleep," she swooned softly. This seemed to be an important detail that she'd been waiting to share with him.

James grinned back. "Red or white this evening?"

"Red. But just a small one."

"We have an '85 Cabernet Sauvingon," James told her, holding the bottle aloft.

Lily nodded her approval as James poured two glasses, before joining her on the sofa and passing her the smaller of the two. She immediately kicked her feet into his lap and he began rubbing her toes.

"This is nice," Lily purred.

James quirked an eyebrow at her. "The wine or the footrub?"

"Both," Lily grinned back. "So, what are we toasting this evening?"

"Well, as our son turns twelve years old in the morning, that seems to be the most appropriate thing!" James quipped with his trademark cheeky grin.

"To Harry then!" Lily toasted, clinking her glass against James'. "Twelve years. We're so lucky, James, to have had this time with him. For the longest time, I never thought we would."

James sighed, mirroring the chill of sadness flowing from his wife. "Neither did I. What with Voldemort and that damned prophecy, then the Muggle scientists from Annwn, then all those surges of accidental magic ... they should have killed him, Lil ... I honestly didn't think he'd survive this long."

"But he has," Lily smiled warmly. "And look how strong he's become! Our son, James! He's healthy and happy and everything we could have hoped."

"More even than that," James smirked.

"What do you mean?" Lily quirked back. "What have you been keeping from me?"

"I had a Floo from Minerva earlier," James revealed. "First year exam results have been finalised ... and our little boy was top of the year!"

"He was!" Lily beamed brilliantly. "That's wonderful! So, so wonderful!"

"You might revise that opinion once Harry knows. He has my ever-inflatable ego, don't forget!"

"Top of the year!" Lily parroted with a little tear in her eye. "Can I go and hug him for it? I'm so proud."

"Leave the boy sleep," James cajoled. "This is me and you time. It's not all good news anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't think Harry will be completely pleased," James informed her. "Not when he realises that to come top he had to beat Hermione to the position!"

"Ooh, I didn't think of that!" Lily grimaced bracingly. "That's going to be quite a dilemma for him. To be happy - at the cost of Hermione being happy. What a conundrum!"

"I wouldn't worry about it," James replied. "It'll be good for him, keep him humble. At least until he sees Hermione, in any case."

"Why will that make a difference?"

"Because she'll be so delighted that Harry did so well, that his ego will float him to the moon!" James chuckled. "She'll give him permission to bask in it and he'll be doubly smug, for having impressed her."

"He's so smitten with the girl, isn't he?" Lily commented fondly. "Though I genuinely don't think he even knows it yet. I wish he'd stay my little boy a tiny bit longer, though. I feel like I'm losing him already."

"Hey, don't fret," James soothed, patting his wife's feet to distract her from her bout of distress. "A boy will always have need of his mother, no matter how many other girls come into his life. Besides, Harry has plenty of love to go round for all of us."

"That's true," Lily smiled. "We did a good job with him, I think."

"Well, we've gotten him to the edge of being a teenager, without turning him into a stroppy monster!" James agreed. "That's something. Lessons learned for the next one, eh?"

He leaned over and placed a soft hand to Lily's belly, rubbing it lovingly. Then they locked eyes.

"When are we going to tell him?"

"Not tomorrow, it's his day," Lily replied, her eyes shining as she slid her hand gently over her husband's. "And I don't think we should distract him before he returns to school, either. He needs to focus on that."

"But when he comes home at Christmas, it'll be obvious," James grinned at Lily. "Even Harry isn't that unobservant."

"Then maybe we should let him find out like that," Lily pondered. "I prefer him to work things out on his own. He wont learn if he just gets told things all the time."

"This isn't one of his Hogwarts tests!" James quipped. "This is about us having another baby!"

"I know, but the surprise will be fun," Lily insisted. "No, we wont tell him yet. Let him enjoy his little date tomorrow, then he can go back to school. Then at Christmas we can have a little bet, you and I, to see how long it takes for him to work it out!"

James chuckled. "Okay. I like that. So ... do you think he'll prefer a baby brother or sister?"

"I'd have to think he'd prefer a sister, something to look after and protect, you know?" Lily pondered. "I hope it's a sister ... because that's what I'm having."

"You don't know for sure."

"I do."

"How?"

"I'm a Mummy. We know these things!"

James laughed again. "You don't half talk nonsense when you're pregnant. It's the funniest thing to see you so illogical."

"Harry has all that to come then," Lily considered lightly. "When his logical girl gets in this way!"

James raised his eyebrows at his wife. "You've certainly changed your tune about that. Making jokes about it now, eh? That's progress."

"What can I say, Hermione has grown on me," Lily returned unabashed. "I think it's her hair, you know. It's so lustrous. I'm very jealous. But I'm just dying to have her let me braid it. Maybe I'll bully her into it when she comes over tomorrow ... say I wont let her see Harry again if she refuses!"

"That's just cruel," James admonished falsely. "But I always did like your dark side. Turns me right on. I know we're already having a baby, but any chance we could practice the making one part again later, for the next time maybe? I need to keep my skills up!"

"You're such a goon," Lily laughed. "Why did I ever marry you?"

"Because I'm the love of your life and it just makes sense!"

"I hate when you're right, but when you are, you are!"

"So ... later?"

Lily smiled vampishly, and sipped her wine in just the right way to make James' head spin. "Just keep rubbing my feet ... and I'll have a think about it!"

"Tease!" James quirked.

"You love it."

James huffed but couldn't argue. For he really did.

When Harry emerged from his bedroom the next evening, he was almost overcome with excitement. The concert was less than an hour away and he literally couldn't wait. He wondered if there was any sort of device in magic that could speed up time, because he wanted the next sixty minutes to go by as quickly as humanly possible.

But when he went into the living room of the flat, he was met with a very unusual sight, and a very unexpected reaction.

For Hermione and Lyra had arrived and were waiting for him. Harry had taken longer than he'd intended, having been dissatisfied with the white face dusting and dark eye make-up he'd spent hours painstakingly applying. He wanted it to be just right. Then he had to choose between his moon goddess and pentacle pendants, and make a final decision on the logo emblazoned t-shirt he was going to wear under his full-length black trenchcoat.

When he was finally finished, Harry thought he looked the part. He was beyond thrilled at the prospect of meeting Miss Weird herself, the devastatingly alluring Maria Edge, and he was reasonably sure this look would impress her.

But he wasn't the only one who'd changed their look for the night.

For Harry saw immediately that Hermione had done something different with her hair tonight. It was as fluffy as ever, but there was a definite sense of control to the chaos now. Her hair fell in neat waves, rather than the random wildness that Harry was used to. Hermione had also dusted her curls with sparkles and glitter, and woven ribbons of scarlet and purple ringlets into her dark tresses, with one of each colour falling from either temple, framing the porcelain skin of her soft face and matching the light shading she'd applied to her eyes.

Harry swallowed very hard at this shiny, frilled vision of his best friend. It was his heart that responded hardest, thrumming pleasantly as Harry stared from the safety of his bedroom door. There was no other word for it ... Hermione looked really pretty, blinding almost ... a bit like the sun coming out after the rain, Harry thought.

But it wasn't just the glitter and ringlet ribbons that caused Harry's breathing to hitch. For the most curious sight - which may also have been the loveliest - was the one of his mother sitting behind Hermione, twisting some of her hair into an elaborate Celtic Braid. Between each knot, Lily had curled in a pretty white flower - to make a vertical line of them down the centre of the braid - which she'd stuck in place using a spell of some sort. Papageno was sat next to her, overseeing the operation. He nodded in approval as Lily fixed the bottom of the braid with a silver hair-tie.

Hermione's look was complete, and Harry felt he needed an entirely new vocabulary with which to describe it ... or to describe how he felt about it. He wondered how long such a language would take to learn.

"There he is!" James exclaimed as his eyes fell on Harry. "We were about to send Hedwig to deliver a message, to tell you that you were going to be late!"

"Very funny," Harry retorted, moving across the room.

Hermione looked up at him and smiled sweetly. "Hi. I like your outfit."

"Hello," Harry replied, conscious that he was still staring at her, and that she might not like that. "You look ... nice."

Hermione beamed, knowing that was pretty much the best Harry was capable of just now. Her sparkling eyes added to her other sparkly additions, making her too bright to even look at for a moment. But Lyra was having none of it.

"Nice?" she scoffed, playfully shaking her head at Harry. "She looks more than nice ... she looks beautiful."

Harry didn't disagree, not in the slightest. But oddly enough, he couldn't work out how he was supposed to say that out loud. It was as if he'd forgotten all the words that would express it. So he just nodded instead.

"There, I think we're done!" Lily announced happily. "I'm really quite pleased with that."

"It is very pretty," Papageno complimented. "You cant see it, Hermione, but trust me that it is."

"Thank you," Lily grinned, quirking a wry look at Papageno. Harry knew that look, knew how odd it was to talk to a dæmon instead of their human. He was used to it now, and barely noticed that Pap was a cat instead of a person anymore, but Lily was still only just starting out on her relationship with Hermione's soul-familiar. It was curious to watch how both of them responded to the other.

"Right, we'd better get a move on," James announced jovially. "Don't want the birthday boy missing out on his favourite present, do we?"

Hermione shot Harry a questioning look, but he just turned his eyes away shyly. He was pretty sure that she already knew that her gift was by far the best one he'd received that day, but he didn't want to be disrespectful by admitting that in front of his Mum and Dad. Not that it would have mattered, for he knew that they knew the truth of the situation, anyway, even if they were too good to say so.

James delivered Harry and Hermione to the Diagon Palladium in good time. Before he left them at the door, he hit them both with a tracking spell, just for Lily's peace of mind, he insisted. Then James waved them goodbye with encouragement to have a good time.

Which they promptly did. The concert was amazing, and Harry had the best time, singing and shouting along with the loud music. He and Hermione even had a sort of dance, which was mostly jumping up and down and making a lot of noise, but Harry was keen not to damage her cute hair arrangement so kept a respectful distance, no matter how close Hermione bounced to him.

Then came the Meet and Greet, which Harry was inordinately excited about. What he hadn't counted on was for it to change his life forever.

But that's just what happened.

Now, Harry had seen Maria Edge in lots of pictures, had about a dozen posters of her around his bedrooms both at home and school. But nothing, nothing, could have prepared him for meeting her in real life. He didn't expect that he was about to be fundamentally changed, as he waited patiently in line for his turn. But then it came ... and ten minutes later Harry was a changed man.

For up close and personal, Harry lost his mind - and his heart - to Maria Edge.

Was she a goddess? Harry would have challenged anyone who disagreed with him just then. She was pretty, but in a different sort of way to how Hermione was pretty. This was a smoky, fiery sort of pretty. The sort to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. And Harry was powerless against it. He let the exotic scent of her fill his nostrils, allowed that devastating smile to scorch his eyes.

And then it got worse ... because she recognised him!

"Harry Potter!" she swooned sultrily, her voice a husky sort of lyrical. "We have a superstar fan! Come here, Harry! This will make the cover of Esoter-Rock! for sure!"

Then she dragged in him close for a one-armed hug, as a photographer began snapping away. Harry lost what was left of his mind, as he was pressed tight into the solid mass of Maria's body, lost in that cloud of her gorgeous perfume, that wafted down as she shook out her golden hair. But when the side of his head came to rest against the soft bounciness of her ample, supple breast, Harry dearly hoped he would die on the spot.

For there was no more perfect time for it in his opinion.

And then it was over and it time to go home. But it was a different Harry Potter that his father came to collect, than the one he'd deposited less than three hours previously.

For Harry Potter was now in love. It had only taken half a hug, and a stunning smile, but Harry's heart had been stolen away in a single beat, one that surely marked the end of his childhood.

And he spent the entire journey home telling his father all about it. All Harry's sentences began with one word ... Maria. It was Maria sang this, and Maria wore that. And when it came to the actual meeting with her, Harry's words tumbled out so fast that it was a miracle his father picked up any of them. It was only when he ran out of breath, which was just about as they were stepping through the door to the flat, that James reminded his son that he hadn't attended the concert alone.

"And did Hermione have a good time?" James asked him. "I hope you said thank you for giving you such a great gift."

"I did, didn't I?" Harry checked, turning to Hermione. "And you had a good time too, didn't you?"

It was only then that Harry noticed something off. The light had dimmed in Hermione's eyes. He wasn't perfect at reading her emotions, but there was no confusion about what he was seeing there now.

She looked sort of ... sad. But Harry had no idea why.

Though she wasn't about to give that away. "Yes," Hermione replied in a slightly elevated pitch. "It was a really good night."

"See!" Harry grinned brightly, oblivious as always.

Then he was off again, recounting the entire Maria Edge-shaped story to his mother. Lyra listened too, but she kept flicking glances at Hermione, who had sat quietly nearby with slumped shoulders and a pained expression. Harry hadn't noticed, but Hermione had starting sadly unwinding the ribbons from her hair already. Pap trotted over to investigate his human, and she scooped him up and held him tight her aching chest.

Harry may not have noticed what was going on, but Lyra was eagle eyed and wily. She knew on instinct that every word of Harry's story was cutting to Hermione's heart like a hot knife. It had the first time, and this second retelling was even worse. She keep quiet to not let it show, kept her hands busy so they wouldn't wring together as a sign of her hurting.

But in the end, Lyra had to come to her rescue, to take her away from this unseen torment.

When Harry drew breath again, Lyra seized her moment. "Well it sounds like a very full evening. And I think at least one half of this pair is wiped out by it. I think it's time to take my girl back home."

"Nonsense, why don't you stay?" Lily suggested. "We have plenty of room, especially with Sirius not here."

Lyra looked at Hermione, who returned her gaze with pleading eyes.

"No, I think we should return home. But thanks for the offer," Lyra replied. Then she crossed to Hermione and offered her hand to help her up. "Come on, young lady. Shall we head off?"

"Yes please, Mum," Hermione replied without thinking, sinking into Lyra's embrace as she stood. It was an embrace that tightened protectively, as Hermione's slip passed like music into Lyra's ear.

"Well, if you're sure," Lily double-checked.

"Quite sure," Lyra smiled. "I don't think sleeping in Sirius' bed without his permission would be quite right! No, I've got Mal's car, I'll get this sleepy little one home in no time."

Then Lyra guided Hermione to the door of the flat, her arm comfortingly around her shoulders. Harry and his parents went too, to wish them goodnight, but Hermione mumbled hers so faintly that Harry barely caught it. As soon as Lyra and Hermione vanished out of sight into the lift, the others returned to the living area, and Harry turned immediately to his parents with a confused look on his face.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asked uncertainly. "Why do I get the feeling that I've done something wrong?"

Lily looked at him with sad pity. "If you don't know, then I'm afraid you're not ready to be told. In truth, you don't deserve it."

Harry frowned at his mother. "What does that mean? Dad?"

"Just what your Mum said, son," James replied cryptically.

Harry couldn't shake the feeling that his father was disappointed in him. What exactly had he done? He hadn't the faintest idea what it might be.

"I'm completely lost," Harry confessed.

"Now that we can all agree on!" James quirked. "I just hope the situation isn't terminal."

Harry had a good grasp of the English language, could converse with snakes and understand dragons ... but speaking in tongues was not his thing. Confused and slightly hurt, Harry made his way to bed. It wasn't the way he'd wanted to end his birthday. After the night he'd had, he'd expected to be exhilarated when he pulled on his pyjamas, with sleep a ridiculous notion. But as he slid under his covers, he was feeling something very different ... like he'd broken something he didn't even know was there.

Harry couldn't figure out what he'd done so badly ... he just hoped there'd be a way to fix it when he did.