and now, dear readers, the regular story

~~ Chapter 1~~

Thursday, just one week after the attack in Little Whinging, Harry wearily found his way to a glorified cupboard in a house said to belong to his godfather. Since he'd surfaced from his coma, he'd wanted to do nothing but sleep. But the officials at St. Mungo's were adamant: he no longer qualified for treatment there. Here he was at this "headquarters:" a family home belonging to Sirius that had been so well hidden, he could only see it after Headmaster Dumbledore told him the name upon escorting him here.

He looked around dingy, small, and mostly empty room with a sigh. At least there was a bed. According to Sirius, at first, they'd had a bed ready for him in the room Ron was using, but Molly was afraid that Ron's magical things would cause harm to Harry, now that he didn't have magic.

This space was just about the size of his old room at the Dursleys (the toy room, not the actual cupboard) and was just about as well appointed.

Sirius, who had greeted him and brought him to this room, sat next to Harry on the small bed.

"I hadn't been in this room in years. It was our nursery. It's the only room that wasn't infested with beasties or filled with dark trinkets. This suite of rooms was warded to shield external magic. Even my parents knew not to expose their babies to dark magic – it can break a child's core…"

His voice wavered off. He looked down at his hands, then back up at Harry.

"Harry, what do you want to do?"

"Not sure what you mean," Harry answered quietly. He felt hollow. He felt whole. He felt terribly confused and beyond exhausted. He'd been at St. Mungo's for just a few days. When he woke up Saturday night, he'd not known where he was, when it was… anything. The days of questions and tests had led to his expulsion earlier today. They'd only kept him that long because they wanted to know why he survived being kissed. And how he had basilisk venom in his blood. And what was with the magical burn scars on his hands? And of course, they wanted to know why his famous scar was fading fast to resemble a regular curse scar. He refused to try to help them with any of it, but especially with the dementors.

He refused to remember being kissed. It was yet another horror his mind shouldn't have to cope with.

"Dumbledore wants you to go back to Hogwarts with the rest of the kids. I think you should stay here with me. Several of the order think you should be moved somewhere in the muggle world. So, I'll ask: what do you want?"

"Do you actually care what a squib wants, Sirius?"

"I have always cared. I will always care. I know it might not seem like it. It might seem like I gave my responsibility for you over to Dumbledore. But you're my boy. And it seems to me that, had we ever listened to what you what you wanted, you might not have been attacked. So, I ask again, what do you want to do?"

"If I said I wanted to go muggle, you'd let me?" Harry asked skeptically.

"I'd help you," Sirius confirmed with a shake of his head and a squeeze to Harry's shoulder. "I will help you, no matter what your choice is. Is that what you want?"

Harry paused. Was it what he wanted? He didn't know yet. What he wanted was time to choose, time to heal.

"I want to stay here with you, for now. Hogwarts doesn't start for a few weeks, and I'm not sure why I'd even want to go there. I have some catching up to do in the muggle world. So… maybe we can look again in a few weeks?"

Sirius smiled gently and mussed Harry's already mussy hair. It drew his eyes to the scar, the rune Lily had certainly placed on the boy. He could still see its shimmering white outline, though it was no longer inflamed.

"But that might change, I get it. So here you'll stay. It's not much, but it is home."

They both looked around the dingy room. Harry sighed. "Hedwig's here, right?"

"Mmmhmm," Sirius nodded, watching what energy Harry seemed to have flow out of the kid. "She's in the owlery. I'll show you how to get up there later, okay?"

Harry supposed it could be much worse. He was safe, with Sirius and his friends and Hedwig was safe here, too. Yawning hugely, he let himself slide gently onto the bed. Sirius stood and picked up Harry's legs so the boy would be completely supine. Harry was asleep almost before Sirius shut the door.

~~ Harry takes a nap ~~

After a few hours of napping, Harry was wakened by the smell of dinner wafting through the house. His stomach grumbled. The knock on his door came just as he was debating trying to run the gauntlet of corridors that seemed to want to eat one's head.

"You ready for dinner? You missed tea," Sirius looked Harry over, as if assuring himself, again, that the child was real.

The Black head had had a hell of a few days, believing his boy to be in a condition worse than death. When Dumbledore had informed them all (after the Prophet did, for Merlin's sake) that Harry was awake and aware, well. It gave Sirius a new lease on life.

"I could murder a cow right now, Sirius. I'm starved. Mungo's didn't give me lunch or elevenses. Breakfast was a long time ago."

Sirius smiled. "Molly's made us a veritable feast to welcome you."

They were walking downstairs and the cacophony from the dining area spoke to more than just Weasleys preparing to eat.

"Can the Weasleys afford to feed all of these people?"

Sirius rubbed at the back of his neck. "Well, it's my house, and I'm buying the supplies right now. Everyone wants to see for themselves that you're alive and well. It'll calm down after today."

Harry's brow knit. He did want to stay with Sirius, but if he had to stay with all of these wankers – the ones who kept him at the Dursleys so he could be attacked, the ones who wanted to toss him like garbage now that he wasn't magical – maybe he should take Sirius up on moving elsewhere.

They entered the dining room to find the head of the table empty – Sirius sat there – and a seat next to him waiting for Harry. Dumbledore was at the other end of the table, and his eyes twinkled at seeing Harry in the room.

Harry kept his face blank and didn't even look at the old man. It was probably immature and closed-minded, but he blamed Dumbledore that he'd been attacked. As he'd languished in a hospital bed, in between being probity-probed and prodded and sleeping, he'd had some time to think. He didn't like the conclusions he'd drawn.

He'd asked to be moved from the Dursleys. That old codger shouldn't have even had a say. Yet Dumbledore decreed it, so there he was stuck. He wasn't allowed communication and he was neglected – at best – by his relatives. He knew it. And he bet Dumble-fucking-dore knew it too. But he was consigned to drudgery at the Dursleys.

Perhaps it was wrong, maybe he was being immature, but Harry thought maybe he hated Dumbledore. Maybe that would change. But as his innocent godfather sat, prisoner in a house he hated, while the head of the courts sat at the other end of the table… well, Harry didn't think his hate-on for the old man would be fading any time soon.

Everyone was silent for a moment when Harry and Sirius walked in, and then the chatter started again. Hermione smiled a mega-watt grin at him and mouthed, "later!" She had news of some sort, and she'd catch him up when there weren't so many others around.

He didn't recognize many at the table. Lupin, of course. Moody – the real one? Some guy who'd once bowed to him in a green grocer. And, of course, a sea of red. Percy wasn't there – a fact for which Harry was grateful, because Percy was a prick - but Bill was, and he was the only one who smiled at Harry in welcome.

Most of the rest of the tosspots didn't.

Molly began to serve the dishes of what smelled simply fantastic. She put a small serving of potatoes on his plate before passing the dish to Sirius.

"Did you see hear Fudge is out? Commission found him guilty. He'll serve time if he isn't kissed," a youngish woman with pink hair announced.

"Commission?" Harry asked, looking fondly at the emptying gravy boat that never quite made it to him.

"There was a commission to see who sent the dementors after you. It was expanded to look at the overt corruption of his office. Looks like Sirius might even get a trial, since they've offered amnesty if he comes in for questioning tomorrow," Remus Lupin smiled at his friend down the table.

Molly put a half a spoon of peas on Harry's plate before handing the dish to Sirius.

"Why didn't Malfoy stop the commission?" Ron asked, his mouth full of hot buttered roll. Harry's mouth watered, but the rolls were at the other end and just three were left… two… and that was it.

Great. Just wonderful.

"Funny thing that," Moody answered after swallowing some roast and sipping from his ever-present flask. "Surprised the Prophet hasn't reported on it yet. Malfoy, Parkinson, Knight, Robeson, and Fulwark - the dark git's circle of financiers - are all dead. Sometime around when you were kissed," Moody pointed at Harry, "the wanker's familiar went as mad as its master. Bit everybody in the room when it went feral."

Molly huffed at the vulgarity as Sirius nodded, sipping water. "Apparently, they were having a war chest meeting at the time. Snivellous walked in on the aftermath, summoned when the dark git was forced to kill his own familiar to stay alive. You Know Who still got bit. Snivelly had worked on anti-venom and was able to save the git's unlife. The rest were already dead. But since no one is acknowledging that the Dark Tosspot is resurrected, it's being buried. No media coverage."

There were grumbles and sighs around the table. They'd got rid of the worst of the ostriches – Fudge – but denial syndrome was alive and well at the Ministry.

"Was Pettigrew there?" Harry asked Sirius hopefully.

Sirius snorted, "No, that little tosser wasn't ever important to the dark forces bankroll."

Harry sighed and sipped at his water.

"Language!" Molly huffed and Sirius snorted.

"Honestly, even if they hadn't carked it," the pink-haired girl redirected, "it'd have been suicide to stop this commission. That attack made Common Johnny right furious. We've had mob mentality in the streets of Godric's Hollow, Hogsmeade, and of course Diagon, since last Friday."

"Tonks," Sirius murmured and nodded toward the pink-haired speaker, "is my cousin, and an auror: magical police."

Harry nodded, then smiled as he saw the sprouts coming toward him. Molly gave him a half a spoon, again, before handing the plate to Sirius.

Harry was starting to get seriously brassed off.

"Oh, by the way," Sirius continued in a low voice to Harry as the chatter continued, "apparently your blood is pretty messed up. Peter used your blood in the instant dark lord mix, so it would take the same properties, and that's what saved him from his snake's venom. But the cure for the bite has pretty much nullified a lot of your blood in the wanker because Snivelly had to do some pretty dark magic to regenerate the git's blood sans poison. Apparently."

Harry nodded and looked at the beef plate heading his way. "Yeah, I apparently still have part of the basilisk tooth in my shoulder blade. The phoenix tears are there, too – apparently my bone marrow generates them to counter the venom. The healers were worried that since I don't have much magic, these would kill me. They were wrong. The only reason they kept me for a few days after I tested squib was because they wanted to experiment on me. Gits."

"Watch your language, young man," Molly corrected, and all of Harry's training at the Dursley table kept him from rolling his eyes at the matron. He knew what she was doing, ugly as it was. He wasn't giving her ammunition.

"We were talking about it, mate," Ron started mid-conversation, "and since you can't use it anymore, Ginny is going to use the firebolt."

Apparently, they'd been talking about quidditch. Surprise, surprise.

"You decided, eh? Wow, who got my seamless cloak?" The sarcasm dripped off Harry's words. Ginny flinched, hearing the bitterness in the tone but not understanding the biblical reference. (Harry only knew it because the Dursleys were strict C and E Anglicans and made him go to all the Easter services.) Ron had no idea what was going on.

"Huh?" Ron brilliantly countered. Hermione snickered.

"It's not as though you can use any of your magical things, young man. You should share." Molly said as she put a very small serving of roast on Harry's plate before passing that, too, to Sirius. He also noticed he wasn't 'Harry Dear' anymore.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia," Harry said with no little sarcasm. The woman speared him with a venomous look while several of her children slammed cutlery in shock.

"How dare you compare my mother to that hag!" Ron demanded.

"Well, she's written me off because I'm the 'wrong sort' now. She's withholding food – incidentally, food that my godfather actually paid for," he pointed to the meagre amounts that she'd put on his plate before removing the serving plates from him. "And she's decided I don't deserve nice things. With Petunia, it was because I was a freak – magical. With your mum, it's because I'm a freak – not magical. Two sides. Same coin."

"Out of line, Harrikins," Fred growled.

Harry turned to him. "When's the last time you talked to your cousin, the accountant? Hmm?"

Fred looked down in shame.

"It's a moot point," Lupin stated with a flat voice. "By the time we'd thought to search the house for Harry's things, the Dursleys had gotten rid of it all, most likely in a fit of pique."

Sirius looked ill, but closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose. Then he took half the food from his own plate and deposited it on Harry's plate. Molly's face was red but Harry believed it was probably anger at being confronted, not shame, that caused the reaction.

"It's okay, Harry. I'll get you everything you need."

Harry just nodded. He was used to having everything ruined; he couldn't be surprised that the Dursleys destroyed his things.

There was silence at the table then, only cutlery as the others guiltily tucked into the repast. Harry noticed the pink hair had turned dull, mousy brown.

Magic was weird.

He didn't quite get his fill, but as the others started to leave the table, he noticed that the serving plates were all empty. Greedy gits.

Hermione waited for most of the adults to wander off before she ran to him.

"Harry!" she crowed and hugged him in his chair. She took Molly's vacated seat as that woman was clearing the china and cutlery from the table. "Not here!" she whispered without moving her lips, answering questions she somehow knew he wanted to ask.

Girls had all sorts of super powers, he reckoned.

"Well, that was just a great meal, but I'm knackered. Show me how to get back to my cell in this mausoleum, Hermione?"

"Very nice. Insults my hospitality and takes off with a bird!" Sirius mockingly moaned; the potential sting taken away with a wink.

"Speaking of birds, take me to Hedwig first?" Harry asked Hermione. She nodded. She'd ask Sirius if the window in Harry's room could be changed to an owl window so that Hedwig could stay with Harry.

Ron glowered at the two of them, still angry that Harry had insulted his Mum. Harry wanted to give him the two fingered salute, but figured he wasn't worth the wasted calories. Now that he thought about it, Ron was a lot like Dudley. And wasn't that depressing?

Instead, he concentrated on his true best friend as they left the room.

"How did you end up here, Hermione?"

"Mum and Dad were glad to let me stay here. I mean maybe glad's not the right word …"

"You've said before that they were older when they had you and they get used to you not being around."

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. "It's not as though they wish me harm. They give me the things that I need, but they're very reserved. They're rather scared of magic, truth be told. And Dad's a bit resentful, being a squib. I think the only reason they let me go to Hogwarts was because it makes me an adult a full year earlier, so they can let me go with no regrets."

Harry sighed.

"In my experience, almost all adults are arseholes. What do we have to do to avoid becoming arseholes? Have you read that in any of your books?"

"Harry Potter, language!" Hermione breathed out, between a laugh and a sob. Her parents' lack of affection never surprised her, but it still hurt. And from Harry's point of view, well, she supposed there weren't any adults worth trusting… well few of them. They got to the owlery and Hermione watched the greeting between Hedwig and her boy. It brought a tear to her eye. Harry told his owl that he'd work on finding a way for her to stay in his rooms the next day if that was okay and the owl barked in agreement. They went back down to Harry's room and continued their conversation.

"Sirius not withstanding – and he had to go to Azkaban for 10 years to keep the arsehole away. Who do we know that's trustworthy? Dumbledore? Stuck me at the Dursleys and in the tournament. Same for McGonagall. Lupin was supposedly best friends with my dad and couldn't be bothered to keep in touch with me, ever. Not even a birthday or yule card. You saw Ron's mum down there. If it's up to her, I'll starve. Again. For the crime of being a squib."

They were almost to his room, and Hermione sighed upon seeing it. Harry deserved better. She had no idea how to get it for him.

She shut the door behind him, knowing that the one perk of this room was the silencing charms. The Blacks did NOT want to be bothered by whining brats.

She opened up a bag he hadn't noticed she'd had. Then she placed the Prophets from the week on the small table at the foot of the bed. (Really, it was quite small. The suite had been the nursery. This was obviously a table for a four-year-old.) Harry picked them up one at a time and read through them. He was stunned to read the byline of Skeeter there.

"Hermione, how did Rita get out?"

"Well, I let her out. On purpose. When you got kissed, I was… Oh, Harry, I was beyond furious. And no one here was going to do anything about it. I decided I would. I agreed that she had to have some of her old flavor in her reports – so she's not going to be nice to you – but she has to tell the truth. I also fed her those questions to prompt the commission. I think Sirius will get a fair trial sometime in the near future – the questioning tomorrow might even clear him completely!"

"And Malfoy won't block it anymore; I bet he was trying to get the Black fortune," Harry postulated. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"I should feel guilty or sad that our classmate lost his father. Instead, I only feel kind of relieved. Anyway. Should I go after her for outing you as a squib?"

"Like anyone cares what happens to a squib. At this point, I'm about as useful as teats on a bull," Harry leaned back across the bed against the wall, weariness capturing him again.

"That's kind of a good point," Hermione smiled at the old aphorism. She'd heard her Mr. Stewart – the caretaker at her old school who let her pick apples with him - say that before. "They'll leave you alone now. You're not 'special' anymore – at least not to the majority of the world. You can be just normal."

Harry thought about what he said, and then he smiled and it held true warmth.

"I think you're the only person who's ever understood that's what I wanted." He whispered, nudging her with his foot.

She chuckled.

"Listen, speaking of my Mum and Dad. I got in contact with them this week. They've sent a full copy of all the homeschooling materials that you've missed out on. I've been keeping up – you know, just in case the magic thing didn't work out. But you've a lot to catch up on. If you work hard, you might be able to take your GCSE's starting next year. Here's a test – if you could do it tomorrow morning, that'd be great. It'll show where you need to start," Hermione bit her lip as she put a booklet and several writing implements on the table.

What on Earth would he do without Hermione? When everyone else was hemming and hawing on what to do with the poor squib, Hermione was plotting and planning a way out. He nodded and kept smiling at her.

"That's great, Hermione. It'll give me something to do here, too." She studied him and was satisfied that he was being truthful, not sarcastic. Then she sighed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. Hogwarts is going to be miserable without you."

Harry heard something in her voice. He looked at her – his best friend – with open eyes.

"Hermione?"

She blushed and looked away, knowing she'd said too much. He sat up straight again at the edge of the bed, next to her, studying her profile.

"Hermione, please look at me," he pleaded, and she turned back.

"The only thing I'm really going to miss from that castle is you. Well, you and flying." He smiled then, a soft, crooked smile, and her eyes watered.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she whispered.

"Hermione, Harry what are you guys doing? Either of you want to play chess?" Ron walked into the room, his eyes suspiciously studying how they were sitting together.

"Not for me, thanks. I'm knackered," Harry admitted, barely smothering a yawn. "Where's the loo?"

"You have one attached there," Hermione stated, pointing at one of the two doors at the side of the room. She had investigated this area when Sirius suggested Harry might stay there. "There's a school room, too," she pointed at the other door, "and all of the spaces are warded, so you should be safe up here."

~~ this is a scene change ~~

The "trial" of Sirius Black was rather quick and efficient. He was never officially questioned in the past. Under the gimlet eye of the ICW witnesses, Amelia Bones administered truth serum and began questioning him. He was cleared of all charges after passing the veritaserum questioning with flying colors, his story held up to other witness testimony, and no evidence to the contrary was presented.

He decided to celebrate by taking Harry to a shopping arcade to get some new duds. His godson sorely needed things, and he needed to spend time with Harry, just him and Harry, as a free man.

Molly Weasley, of course, was having none of it.

"Molly, Harry needs clothes. I'm taking him out for clothes. We're going to a muggle area, so you don't need to worry about death eaters getting us."

"There's no reason to go out into the city just to get clothes for him; it's not as though he's going anywhere. He just needs a change or two. I can take some of Ronnie's old things…"

After having her prejudice pointed out the evening before, Sirius knew just what was going on here, and worry for Harry was not the root of this argument. He breathed deeply through his nose to control his temper.

"Molly Weasley, I appreciate the work you've done and your past generosity to my godson. But you are not family, and I will take no more insults from you. This is my house. If you wish to stay here, you will keep your opinions about Harry and his new status to yourself. Do you understand?"

The silence that greeted his reprimand was so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Molly inhaled as though to argue, but changed her mind and turned back toward the main sitting room.

They finally got out the door.

"I got quite a bit of galleons changed to pounds when I was on the run. It's loads easier to hide in the muggle world. These glamour charms will hold for the day on us. Now. Did you make a list?"

Harry nodded. "Checked it twice," he said, tongue in cheek. The Christmas reference appeared to have sailed over Padfoot's head.

"Remember to call me Paddy today, kid. I'm going stick to calling you kid. I'm clear in the magical world but still wanted on the Muggle side."

Harry sighed.

"I heard from Remus that no one saw you much this morning," Sirius said as they walked toward the tube.

"Well, I was taking Hermione's tests for a while. Besides, I don't really want to hang out with Dumbledore's minions. Most of the order members treated me like crap before, and it's worse now."

"How did they treat you like crap?"

"Kept me prisoner at the Dursleys, didn't they? Knew what happened to me there, but did bollocks all to help me? Now they're just 'ooh poor little squibby' or whatever."

"Tell you what. Once the kids are gone for school, I'll lock down the house to just you, me, and Remus. Maybe Dumbledore. Sound okay?"

Harry decided to be selfish for once and nodded. "Yes. It sounds great, actually. As long as you add Hermione."

Sirius chuckled and messed Harry's hair.

They made their way to a tube station and to the Elephant and Castle in South London. Hermione had suggested that it might be easier to buy in a mall since there were such a variety of stores. Harry hadn't been in a mall before and had a hard time containing his curiosity and enthusiasm.

Being with Sirius, who was acting every inch the big kid he was, made hiding enthusiasm even harder.

By the time they'd finished a greasy, filling, late lunch, Harry had a few clothing basics, all slightly-oversized (as Sirius said that he was due a growth spurt, fingers crossed) and a lot of extras (things like personal hygiene products, books, art supplies, and some toys Harry'd always wanted, like a yo-yo, a hacky sack, and a Rubik's cube). They'd both purchased workout gear – Sirius thought jogging on the regular might be a good pastime for the two of them. Their last stop of the day was to a muggle grocery and kitchen center where Harry supervised the purchase of more muggle-style foods that he knew how to prepare.

Sirius had obviously spoken with Molly between meals as Harry'd had a full breakfast that morning, served under Molly's pinched expression. Really, she was like Petunia with a few… quite a few… stone added.

They headed back to Grimmauld; Harry was practically lulled to sleep on the train. Sirius kept a close eye on the kid. He was too skinny by half, and the hair needed a trim and the glasses… why was he so neglected?

Sirius shook his head, taking Dumbledore off the approved list in his mind.

After a quick nap (and Sirius had told the kids to leave him be as he was still recovering), Harry decided to put his clothes and books away in his new room and what he was going to call his office.

He refused to call it a school room.

He wished he could get more appropriate furniture, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He had barely put his books and supplies away on the shelves in the "office" when Hermione burst in.

"How? How are you on level in maths and sciences and history?"

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his neck and came clean with his best friend.

"Dudley was a horrifically bad student. His skills make Ron look like an ambitious genius. Truly. Smeltings was going to give him the boot. Petunia would give me more food if I tutored him in the summers – but I had to know the information to help him. I've always kept up on the muggle side."

"Why didn't you ever say? And if you could teach yourself this, why don't you do better in school?"

"I've never seen the point of doing well in school." Harry shrugged. "Teachers don't reward you when you do and other kids just get all nasty about it. I've shown I have some talent in exactly one thing: flying. And what happened there? I got put on some crazy team for some crazy sport where I've almost died a whole bunch of times. I mean it's fun and all but seriously? I'm lucky that game hasn't killed me – or at least permanently injured me. If I was good at spells and stuff, it would just make me stick out more."

"But it's important to do well."

"Why?" Harry looked truly puzzled by the idea.

"Because. because…" How did you explain what blue was? The difference between hot and cold? Truth was truth! Doing well in school was important… everyone knew that!

"How much has it helped you?" Harry countered.

"As a muggleborn, I have to show that I can blend in this world and learn it. And they know I've done so. They've made me prefect!"

"And Ron, too! He does so well in classes… wait…" Harry trailed off; his sarcasm registered in Hermione's blush. "Anyway, this prefect thing. This is how it seems; correct me where I'm wrong: you get to do some of the professors' work for them. They don't respect you any more than they did. They won't stop the gits from calling you terrible names or making fun of your enthusiasm for class."

"But points matter; being prefect matters!"

"Why? Does it go on your resume? Get you a better job? You know as well as I do that you'll never even be looked at for most positions because of your parentage, right? And the employers who do look will look because of your OWL scores and you NEWT scores. Not your house points."

"I…"

"I'm not saying you shouldn't learn magic and keep your scores high, Hermione. But do it for you, not for them."

"The more competent I am, the more respect I earn," Hermione declared, wanting to believe it.

"Giving answers in class doesn't command respect. All it does is make all of the other kids around you who don't know those answers resent you."

"Why didn't you ever say you felt like this before? Why tell me now?" The hurt and confusion warred in her voice.

He sighed, pulling her onto the floor to sit with him and holding her hand. She calmed some, but her eyes were still tear-filled. "When I was there, with you, my stupid Boy-Who-Lived-ness protected you some. Now, you're on your own. Why didn't I tell you before? That's harder." He looked down at his lap, and their entwined hands, trying to find the words. "First, I didn't think you'd believe me. You live for school! And… I'm selfish. I was afraid you'd be mad at me – like you are now – and you'd stop being my friend. But then your big brain would think it over and realize I was right. And then you'd make other, better friends."

"Harry, you're my very best friend." She squeezed his hand, then blushed when he threaded his fingers with hers.

"I wish there was a way I could talk to you when you're at Hogwarts. Being kissed has made me figure out a bunch of stuff. Important stuff. I want to talk to you about it. But we can't get away here, and any of the horde of Weasleys will come in at any time and demand to know what we're talking about…" he sighed running his free hand through his hair. The familiar (and hot!) movement made Hermione's heart stutter. She bit her lip.

He still held her hand.

She'd had a crush on him forever, it seemed. She waited for him to ask her to the Yule Ball. She went with Victor, and it was fun, but she really wanted Harry to see her as a girl. When she thought he did, Ronald ruined it. Last night, she was sure he might kiss her. Ronald ruined it.

Ronaldus interruptus was really a terrible condition, she giggled to herself.

"What are you giggling about?" he asked, looking into her eyes with a little smile.

"A horde of Weasleys. They're kind of like Vikings, pillaging and all. Ron especially."

"You know what I want to do? I want to watch telly. I wish we could get a telly in here. I'd like to sit on a couch, with you, eat some popcorn, and watch some telly."

She sighed, making to stand. He squeezed her hand again, then let her go. He got up and helped her, as he was quicker.

He stood, eye to eye with her. "I'm really going to miss you," he whispered, tucking some of her crazy hair behind her ears.

"Me, too," she whispered back, then hugged him. She felt his head turn and heard him breathing her in, and she smiled. "But we have almost a whole month. And my house has a couch and telly and popcorn. I could contact my mum and dad and see if we could pop over one afternoon and watch a movie."

"Just you and me?" he asked, pulling back and looking in her eyes.

She blushed but smiled and nodded, "If that's what you want, just you and me."

"Brilliant. I'll get Sirius on the case of sneaking us out." They had just pulled apart when Ginny knocked on the school room door before opening it. "Hermione, Mum wants you to come down and help get dinner ready. Hey Harry, did you have fun with Sirius?"

"I did," he answered. Ginny looked drawn and sad. He wondered who ran over her kneazle. Not his problem, of course. She had older brothers aplenty to deal with her moods.

~~ this is a scene change ~~

Sirius spoke with Harry quietly at the table that evening. He was right; most of the order was not there, and the Weasleys spoke mostly amongst themselves.

Harry was allowed to serve himself from the platters.

"Thanks for changing the window in my room so Hedwig can get in. I missed her."

"It's not a problem. I know what she means to you. Do you have everything you need then?"

"Do you think you could make the table and chairs a bit bigger? They're pretty small."

Sirius laughed "They were for us when we were learning our pre-Hogwarts lessons. Yeah. I'll come up and put some temporary enlargement charms on them until I can pick up some that are more to the right size. We'll decide what to get together, yeah?"

Harry nodded and smiled.

Molly harumphed at what she again assumed was a waste of money but kept her words of wisdom to herself.

Harry rolled his eyes and Hermione, sitting across from him, kicked his ankle lightly. He looked at her, barely containing her smirk, and his mood instantly improved.

Over the next few weeks, Hermione and Harry planned out their muggle studies for the year. Ron quickly abandoned hanging out with them when he saw they were studying. And when he wasn't there, if their legs tangled together under the table, well, that was nothing, wasn't it? If he played with her fingers when he talked to her, if he watched her pet her cat while they read, well, that was just normal distractions, right?

Crookshanks looked on with disgust as his mistress petted the other human, but enjoyed the rooms away from the red-headed kids, so tolerated the interactions.

It wasn't all studying, of course. Sirius got Harry, and usually Hermione also, out to a local gym for some physical exercise a few times a week. The Weasley boys were still giving Harry the cold shoulder because of his obvious disdain for their mum, and it was pretty obvious that Hermione had chosen team Potter over team Weasley. Ron glared at her when she was transparent about it, but he had a little gleam in his eye, as he did when he was planning his chess moves. She imagined he'd try to get her attention at school because, really, he'd be hard pressed to pass OWLS without her help.

For now, though, she spent all of her time with Harry.

Sirius was able to get them to Hermione's house to watch telly twice, though the second time, they got caught coming back into the house, and Molly blew a gasket. Hermione was her responsibility and blah blah blah.

Molly was right to be angry at what she saw as Sirius's lax attitude. Voldemort had taken the loss of his financial base - the death of his most ardent death eaters and the exposure of his return - not at all well. He'd gone on attacks in muggle areas a few times since he'd gotten over the loss of Nagini, just to release his anger, and people who knew him to be back were reminded of the terror he could and would cause.

The kids let Sirius take one for the team and went back to Harry's rooms to "study."

The first time Harry kissed her, Hermione barely concealed her surprise. It was just a peck, really. They both bent over for the paper that had fallen and looked at each other and he'd just leaned in and…

It wasn't perfect technique. He'd obviously had as much experience kissing as she had – maybe even less. But it was perfect.

And though Hermione was very much a business-first kind of girl, his technique (and hers) improved greatly in the intervening two weeks.

Sirius caught them snogging the afternoon before she would return to Hogwarts. "I realized you two were studying muggle biology but had no idea the lessons were so practical or hands – and lips – on. Or is it chemistry that you're studying, eh?"

The two – Hermione had been on Harry's lap, his hands plunged into her hair, his glasses on the table, his button-up shirt unbuttoned with her hands roaming somewhere underneath – jumped apart. Sirius rolled with laughter even as both teens blushed.

Harry groaned. It was his last day with Hermione until winter hols. He loved Sirius, he really did, but this was really beyond the pale.

"Anyway, I'm not being a prude without a purpose. You'd asked me about communications? These mirrors – your dad and I made them. They pass sight and sound to each other…" he took the pair through the use of the mirrors.

"Oh, thank you, Sirius," Hermione gushed as she smiled and enthusiastically hugged him. Harry nodded at his godfather, knowing he'd be taking a bit of ribbing for what Sirius had walked in on. "What protections do they have on them?"

As they put extra charms on the mirrors to protect them, Hermione felt that maybe the fall term wouldn't be entirely traumatic.

The next day, as all of the order members gathered to take the Weasley kids and Hermione to the train safely, Sirius got down to the role of being The Black. He locked down his house from all but family – meaning he allowed only Harry, Tonks, Lupin, and Hermione to remain in the ward ledger. The fidelius fell, but Black war wards were raised. Molly Weasley was the first to find out that the front door didn't work for her anymore: though the first warning was a 'gentle' shock, her hair stood on end for a week. Snape, who was attempting to get more books from the Black library before school started, was the first to find out that floo didn't work. The venom in his voice as he informed Dumbledore was enough to shoot chills down even that aged man's spine.

Dumbledore floo-called as soon as it was reported to him that the floo was locked down. Sirius answered, looking every inch the pureblood head of house that he was.

"Sirius, I must insist that you open the house," Dumbledore demanded. "It is quite selfish of you to withhold such a secure asset from your comrades in arms."

"Then, I suppose I'm selfish. This is Black Manor. For too long, my comrades in arms have abused both my position and my trust. But when your lackeys abused my godson, it was done. I think we both agree Harry is the only important thing here. I don't know why you believe that, but he's my boy. He's had enough abuse, Dumbledore. He doesn't need the verbal and emotional abuse your order has been dishing out to him. He's sacrificed more than the lot of them put together. It ends now or he'll leave. He could hide in the muggle world. You know it."

Dumbledore paused. He'd seen how Molly had treated young Harry. It was a shame that squibs were so abused in the magical world. Albus had checked, and the prophecy was still in play. Harry still had a part to play. He didn't belong at Hogwarts, but perhaps acknowledging Sirius's concerns would keep Harry where Dumbledore could still influence him.

"I understand your concern. Molly especially did overstep boundaries. I had no idea she was such a purist at heart. She never treated Arabella with anything but kindness. But then, she didn't associate freely with her, either. Alas. I… understand your concern. I will let the other order members know that they are reaping what they sowed. Please keep me appraised of Mr. Potter's welfare, Sirius. And if you find you need anything, please floo."

Sirius raised a brow, understanding that Dumbledore had given in too easily. There was something else going on. But Black didn't know what it was. He ended the floo call all politeness and called Kreacher to him.

They went to the ritual room and prepared the ritual of return. Sirius recalled all of the things that had been "discarded" or taken (and wasn't Mundungus in trouble when merchandise he'd sold suddenly disappeared) and gave new orders to Kreacher: Return any belongings the people of the order left behind and clean this pit. The family Black do not live in squalor.

The little elf, no longer influenced by the bad necklace that seemed to not be bad anymore, took the order from his master and began to clean the house. He still resented the not-so-good master, but his magic could see that the scarred-half-blood's forehead had the same echo that the necklace did. Whatever the terrible/wonderful boy had done, it had freed Kreacher from his unfulfilled promise to his good master. Plus, his new master had evicted all of the freeloaders from the ancient and noble house: an action both Kreacher and Mistress Black thoroughly approved. Kreacher followed his elf contract and worked with his master now.

Within a few days, the dank, dark corners began to feel more welcoming. Sirius put in work trying to make the house less of a nightmare, corralling the dark heirlooms in magic-null trunks. He wanted Harry to be able to walk freely through the crypt he once again called home.

~~ end scene~~

Thank you all for your patience through the "newspaper timeline". I tried to be faithful to what I perceived would be a timeline for stories coming out. But now, there's a 7 chapter story. I am not going to post according to the timeline - after all, if I did, this would come out on 1 september. Again, this story is completely written. I should have it posted by the end of the week, depending on how busy school is.