Thank you for all the reviews! I believe this story will need five parts to finish it off, but at the moment I'm not entirely sure.

Part Two

"You understand why you cannot live with Sirius, Mr. Potter?"

Professor Dumbledore's voice was soft and kind. Harry nodded and brushed his hair away from his face. He had always kept it short before, because it seemed like it would get in the way, and the Dursleys didn't like boys with long hair. But now that he had seen what it looked like on Sirius—his father—he had been growing it out the last week of term. "Yes, sir. He's a fugitive and probably won't even stay in Britain."

"And you have to live with your relatives for your protection."

"What protection, sir?"

"Based on your mother's blood. I will explain in more detail when you are older."

Harry sighed a little. He was starting to hate that phrase. Ron had said that Mrs. Weasley had wanted to keep the information about Sirius from him until he was older, too. And if she had, then Harry might have been completely unprepared for this year and all the people starting to make the connection between him and his father. "Can I please know it now, sir?"

"No, Harry," Professor Dumbledore said, kindly but firmly. "I want you to have a childhood first."

Harry sighed again, but said nothing. It was obvious that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't tell him. That was the kind of tone adults got when they were absolutely sure.

"Harry," Professor Dumbledore added. "Why did you not tell me that you suspected Sirius was your father?"

Harry wondered for a second how he'd known about that, but he assumed Professor Dumbledore could have overheard one of his conversations with Hermione and Ron, or just noticed that Harry wasn't that surprised when rumors started spreading about Sirius. He shrugged. "I noticed when I got the photo album Hagrid made for me in my first year that I didn't look like my dad at all. And there was a picture of Sirius. So I started suspecting."

"That is not actually an answer to the question, Harry."

"Sorry, sir, I was getting there. I asked Ron to look into it, because his parents knew my parents and they might know who Sirius was. I didn't even know his name then. Ron found out for me, but his mum kept saying that I shouldn't know anything about how he was my godfather and he supposedly betrayed the Potters until I was older. So I thought it was best to keep it secret from the adults. And I didn't really want to go around advertising it, anyway, when I thought Sirius was a murderer."

Professor Dumbledore nodded slowly. His eyes didn't have a twinkle. "In the future, Harry, I would prefer that you tell me anything you come across rather than keep it a secret like this. Especially something this important."

"Sorry, sir, but why was it important? I just thought it was my private shame."

"There are those out there who would want to take advantage of you. For example, Sirius has a cousin, Narcissa Black, who married Lucius Malfoy. She might make overtures of friendship to you. I know you have a longing to know more about your parents. She might have managed to trick you into accepting a message, and…well, you're aware of Mr. Malfoy's connections to Voldemort, of course."

Harry blinked, and said nothing about how Sirius had encouraged him to write to Mrs. Malfoy. He just didn't think it was that dangerous. If Harry did meet her, it wouldn't ever be at Malfoy Manor, and he was never going to just say that it was okay for her to treat house-elves the way she did because she was family. And he wouldn't let Mr. Malfoy near him.

"Harry?"

"Yes, sir. If I ever do find out something important like that about my heritage or anything again, I'll tell you." There, he could keep that promise without saying that he wouldn't write to Narcissa.

"Thank you, my boy." Professor Dumbledore smiled at him. "And now, I think your friends are probably waiting for you by the gargoyle."

They were, and Hermione promptly pulled Harry to the side into a classroom where Ron stood. "Did Professor Dumbledore have any news about Sirius?" she whispered.

Harry shook his head. "He was just worried that I'd suspected I was Sirius's son and didn't tell him."

"But he didn't really need to know, did he?" Ron was frowning. "He's not a Black. And it's not like anything would have happened anyway if Sirius hadn't broken out."

Harry shrugged. "He seemed concerned that I would keep secrets from him in the future, and that would make it harder for him to keep me safe from people like Mr. Malfoy. So I promised him that if I ever learned something that important again, I would tell him right away."

Hermione relaxed and nodded. "Yes, if you come up with something really important, like finding out a way to find Pettigrew or something like that, of course Professor Dumbledore would need to know! He might be able to get Sirius a trial. He's Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, you know…"

Harry and Ron exchanged smiles and listened to Hermione talk for as long as she wanted. Things had turned out so much better with Sirius than Harry had ever expected, even if he was still on the run, and Hermione had helped. Listening to a lecture now and then was a small price to pay for her friendship.

That summer, Harry spent a long time sprawled on his bed in Dudley's second bedroom writing letters, and Sirius spent a long time writing back, and Hedwig and the parrots Sirius was using got a lot of exercise.

Dear Harry,

Okay, so I did promise I would tell you what happened with me and your mum. Please let me know if I—look, I'm not the best judge of what's age appropriate for you, all right? Except I know not to use any swear words. But otherwise I'll just tell you what happened.

Fairly early after James, Lily, and I started fighting in the war, we found we fought best together. We were on all sorts of battlefields and defeating Death Eaters left and right. So You-Know-Who started targeting us personally, and there were several occasions where all three of us almost died.

After that, Dumbledore started insisting that we stay under protection as much as possible. But the Order didn't want to lose our wands in the field, either. So what we did was have two of us stay under protection at a time, together, while the third went into the field and fought. Then the third one would come back, and one of the people who had been hiding would go out. That kept us safe, and let us fight, and also let us spend time together in various combinations.

Well, I was already best friends with James, but I got to know Lily right quick, like that. And—we were so bored, Harry. So bored. James knew that, and he told me outright that he wouldn't hold anything against me or Lils if something happened. We never talked about it, aside from then. And I don't think anyone thought there would be permanent consequences Just having a shag sometimes now and then, you know? Lily and I loved each other, but not like a being married kind of love. More like "I'm your friend and this is war and I might never see you again the next time you leave" kind of love.

And then you happened. I think Lily might have known. She and James had been—well, together for years and nothing had happened. No kids. And then Lily found out you were coming and didn't say anything to me or James one way or the other about whose kid you were.

It wasn't that obvious when you were a baby, either. You had no hair when you were a baby for the longest time, and then this smooth brown hair! So it could have gone either way.

James maybe suspected. But he never blamed me or said anything to me or Lily. And I thought that everything would grow up with the three of us raising you. And Wormtail. I thought he was loyal at the time. It wouldn't matter who had fathered you when we were all going to be there.

I'm so sorry I wasn't, Harry. I'll do my best to make that up to you. I love you, son.

Paddy.

Dear Paddy,

Thanks for telling me. It's kind of weird to think about things happening like that, but I like to think I'm mature enough to handle it. And thanks for not going into all the details I know you could have gone into!

You're not saying much about Professor Lupin—Moony. Was he not around? Did he not approve of you and Mum—being together? Is that why he wouldn't look at me all year or when we were in the Shack? I don't know. I resented him but I also want to be friends with him if he's friends with you.

I've been having these kinds of weird dreams, with someone I think might be Voldemort. He's living in an old house and has a giant snake with him, and I think I dreamed Wormtail with him, too. The dreams fade so fast it's hard to be sure. Do you think I should tell Professor Dumbledore?

Love,
Harry.

Dear Harry,

I probably don't deserve to have you forgive me so easily, but damn it if I'm not about to grab on with both hands and try my best to never let you go again. (Does damn count as the kind of thing you're not supposed to say around kids?)

Moony is—complicated. We were all best friends in school, hardly anything to distinguish between us. But then James married your mum, and I started fighting and training with James and spending almost all my time with him, and then with him and Lily. We actually thought Moony might be a spy. It pains me to say it, but it seemed obvious there was a spy in the Order—that was Dumbledore's old crowd fighting the war—and we suspected Moony. You-Know-Who was trying to recruit werewolves, and Remus was spending a lot of time with them. Now I know it was on Dumbledore's orders, but, well, we thought he was going Dark.

And to him, it was really important that James and Lily got married. It meant James was growing up, to him. Your dad I mean James was kind of an immature git in school. Remus celebrated when he grew up enough to attract Lily's attention. He never had before. Remus was really protective of their marriage, and I think he saw me as a threat to it when I started spending all my time with them under wards. Even if he never knew Lily and I were shagging.

And then he thought I was a traitor and a murderer. And you were my kid. He couldn't look at you without seeing how much the past was shattered beyond repair. I'm guessing at some of this and some I'm getting from his letters. Give him time. I think he'll come around.

I think you probably should tell Professor Dumbledore about the dreams. They have to do with You-Know-Who, and he's the best at fighting You-Know-Who. The only one that bastard ever feared. But feel free to keep some secrets from him, too. Like Cissa. He probably wouldn't want you writing to her.

Love,
Paddy.

Dear Paddy,

Okay, I can respect that. I'll give Remus time. And damn is okay to say around me. So is shagging.

I wrote to Professor Dumbledore about my dreams a while ago, but I haven't heard anything back yet. I got a letter from Mrs. Malfoy, though. I'm going to meet her in Diagon Alley. Ron is going to be there, and his older brother, Bill, who works for Gringotts, is going to be around the corner just out of sight. Just in case she tries anything, or Mr. Malfoy wants to kidnap me for Voldemort or something.

Love,
Harry.

Harry took a deep breath and walked into Florean Fortescue's shop. He caught the shopkeeper's eye and smiled a little. Mr. Fortescue smiled back and gave Harry the chocolate ice with small candied dragonfly wings on top that he asked for. Harry wasn't sure about the dragonfly wings, but they tasted exactly like spun sugar.

Ron came in and sat down at the table next to him, nodding significantly. Harry relaxed. That meant Bill was around the corner and waiting with his curse-breaking skills and goblin-trained spells. Ron was going to sit at the other table and not interfere unless he had to, but Harry already knew that Mrs. Malfoy would probably put up privacy spells.

And then Mrs. Malfoy came in with Draco.

Harry tensed despite himself, and Ron looked at him and mouthed, You want to call this off?

Harry shook his head grimly. Mrs. Malfoy had promised in her letters that she wouldn't bring Mr. Malfoy, but to be fair, she hadn't said she wouldn't be bringing anyone else. And she probably thought it was important for Harry and Draco to get to know each other. Sneaky Slytherins.

He would watch out for that kind of thing in letters, next time.

Mrs. Malfoy left Draco to order ices, or maybe just one for himself, and came towards him. Her face was shining with happiness. Harry blinked. He actually hadn't thought she could look so open. He stood up and held out his hand cautiously, and she gripped his and took a deep breath that sounded as if she was struggling through tears.

"Harry. Thank you so much for coming."

Harry shook her hand uneasily, aware that Draco had come up beside her and was standing there with his eyes on the floor. That didn't make much sense, and made Harry wonder if Draco had been threatened to come along.

That wasn't right. Harry sort of wanted a relationship with his cousin, but Draco shouldn't have to be punished to have one with him.

"Um, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said as he sat down again.

"Cissa. I insist."

Mrs. Malfoy drew her wand and set up some spell around the table that dimmed the sounds coming from inside the shop. It also seemed to block out the line of sight other people had, because someone at another table looked straight at Harry and didn't react to his scar at all. Harry took a deep breath and caught Ron's eye. Ron nodded back, face filled with determination.

Harry relaxed. Ron could still see him well enough to tell if he started to panic or if Mrs. Malfoy hurt him somehow.

"You brought a guard, Black?"

Draco's voice was quiet and subdued. He was glaring at Ron, though. Harry shrugged. "All the things I told you a few months ago are still true, Malfoy. Your father tried to kill a kid I had to go fight a basilisk to save."

Mrs. Malfoy's eyes widened. "Fight a basilisk?"

"That's what the monster in the Chamber of Secrets was," Harry told her, watching her closely. He thought she probably hadn't known that, based on the way she was reacting, but it was hard to tell. "The monster unleashed by the diary that your husband passed along to my best friend's little sister."

Mrs. Malfoy closed her eyes. Then she said, "Something will be done to address that."

"Okay," Harry said. He didn't know what to think. Adults had promised him things like that before—well, mostly they'd promised him things related to the Dursleys—and none of them had ever come to pass.

"How the hell did you survive?" Draco blurted out.

"Draco, language!"

Draco had brought over a strawberry ice which he was eating while staring at Harry. He just kind of looked at his mother and nodded. "Sorry, Mother," he said, but he looked back at Harry right away.

"Fawkes, the Headmaster's phoenix, brought the Sorting Hat," Harry said. "And I pulled the Sword of Gryffindor out of it, which I used to kill the basilisk. After Fawkes put out its eyes, so it couldn't kill me. Oh, and I got a fang through my arm, but Fawkes cried on that and put it right." He didn't think he should mention the diary's connection to Voldemort in any detail.

Draco put down his spoon. His hands were trembling.

"Sorry," Harry said, feeling guilty. He forgot sometimes that he wasn't a normal kid and most people would have a problem with that.

"You could have died," Draco whispered, and then reached across the table and gripped Harry's hand tightly.

Harry blinked at him. That was enough to make up for all the rivalry they'd had until this point? "Yes, but I didn't."

"I find myself concerned that so little care has been taken for your safety, Harry," said Mrs. Malfoy. She leaned across the table and gave Harry a comforting smile. "Does Cousin Sirius have a plan to make sure that you are safe in the coming school year? That you will not be exposed to such danger again?"

"How can he? He's a fugitive. But he knows that I'll be as safe as I possibly can." It was something Sirius and Harry had talked about. He'd practically begged Harry not to dash into danger even if he wanted to and to keep talking to Professor Dumbledore about his dreams. Harry had promised.

Mrs. Malfoy looked dissatisfied. "I think we should speak to other members of the family."

Harry blinked. He'd somehow had the impression, when Mrs. Malfoy had talked about so many other people related to her not being free or alive, that there was no one left. "What other members of the family?"

Dear Paddy,

I did end up meeting with Cissa in Diagon Alley. Everything went fine. She even promised me that she wasn't going to let anyone abuse the house-elves going forwards. But now she wants me to start talking to her sister, Andromeda Tonks. She talked about her sister being disowned and having a daughter who's a lot older than us—I mean, Draco and me—but that's almost all she said. What do you know about Andromeda? Is she safe to talk to?

Love,
Harry.

Dear Harry,

Well, that letter felt like a punch! Andromeda was my favorite cousin at one point, but yes, she was disowned when she married a Muggleborn bloke named Ted Tonks. I thought at one point that Cissa was never going to talk to her again. For her to suggest that you write to Andromeda is really something. She should be safe. One of Moony's letters said something about her daughter being part of Dumbledore's crowd.

Draco, huh? What happened to him being a git?

Love,
Paddy.

Dear Paddy,

He's still kind of a git. But we talked, and he was really upset about me fighting a basilisk in second year. He kept going on and on about how I could have died. I suppose I forgot how frightening that probably was from outside. Ron and Hermione already know all about it, so I don't talk with them about it often or anything like that.

Okay. I'll send Hedwig with a letter to Andromeda and see what she says.

I wish you could be here.

Love,
Harry.

Dear Harry,

Excuse me, what basilisk?

Love,
Paddy.

Harry's hands were shaking. He jammed them into his robe pockets and gave a hollow laugh. So much for all his promises to Sirius to stay out of trouble. First the commotion at the Quidditch World Cup when someone had stolen his wand and cast the Dark Mark, and now this.

"I did not put my name in the fucking Goblet of Fire," he hissed under his breath, leaning on the windowsill of the Owlery and staring out.

"I know you didn't."

Harry spun around. Draco was standing behind him. He looked as quiet and solemn as Harry had ever seen him, even worse than when Harry had told him and Cissa about fighting the basilisk. He was clutching a letter in his hand.

"So that's not a letter to your mother to complain how I cheated?" Harry asked, nodding to the letter.

"I know you didn't cheat, Harry." Harry started a little. It was still strange to hear Draco call him that, even if Harry had been calling him Draco in his head for months now. Draco sighed and folded his arms. "I'm just writing to her so that she can get you some help. Maybe she can find a way to pull you out of the Tournament. I don't know."

Harry swallowed and looked down. After what Ron had said earlier, having someone believe in him was so unexpected that it hurt. "Thanks," he whispered.

"Try not to get killed."

Draco touched his shoulder, and then turned and went towards his own owl, a huge eagle-owl who was named Merlin. Harry sighed. "Do you have some parchment? I should probably write—Paddy." That was the only name he was willing to use in a place where someone could have crept up under a Disillusionment Charm and be listening. He supposed Moody's lessons in constant vigilance were rubbing off on him.

Draco turned around, his face softening. "Of course."

He gave Harry both ink and parchment, Harry found a battered quill in his pocket, and he leaned the parchment against the stone wall to scribble his letter.

Dear Paddy,

Something completely bloody predictable happened, and someone put my name in the bloody Goblet of Fire. I swear I didn't. But now I'm bound to compete in the Triwizard Tournament, and Professor Dumbledore says there's no way out of it. I'll try to find one. My cousin is writing to Cissa, too. Just please don't do anything mental when you hear about this, okay?

Love,
Harry.

Harry attached the letter to Hedwig's leg and stroked her head for a second. "Go take it to Sirius, girl," he breathed. "Please."

Hedwig rubbed her beak against his fingers and then turned and soared out the window. Merlin was already gone. Draco was waiting for him, and walked steadily beside Harry down the stairs, until they got to the bottom of the steps. Then Draco abruptly leaned sideways and hugged him.

"We'll get you through this," he whispered. "Family is important." And he turned and ran back towards Slytherin.

Harry blinked after him, heart lighter than he would have believed it could be.

"Oh, Harry."

Life hadn't been great in the past few weeks, with everyone claiming he cheated except Draco and Hermione and Neville, but it was better now that Harry was wrapped in Sirius's arms. Even if he knew Sirius was in danger coming into the country, and part of him had thought he was selfish to write that letter to his father about the Tournament the morning after he'd written it, Harry was still glad.

Sirius sat back in the cave with his arms around him. Meeting in this cave near Hogsmeade was at least safer than meeting at the school would have been. There was a charmed basket next to him, and he started taking pasties and biscuits and cakes out of it. Harry blinked at it. "Where did you get that?"

"Andi," Sirius said cheerfully. "She said that I had no conception of what a growing boy needed to eat and I should have it for you even if I wasn't going to eat any of it myself."

Harry smiled. That sounded like Andromeda. Harry hadn't had the chance to meet her yet, but from her letters, she was brisk, no-nonsense, and absolutely ruled both her family and the ward where she worked as a Healer at St. Mungo's.

"So," Sirius said, after Harry had leaned against him and filled his mouth with small chocolate cakes for a while. "You said something about the First Task involving bloody dragons."

Harry nodded and swallowed his mouthful. "Yeah. And I don't know how to get past them."

"Well, there's the Conjunctivitis Curse," Sirius said, rubbing his chin. "You can hit them in the eyes, and it blinds them. That should be good enough for you to get past them and do whatever you have to do."

"You really think I can learn that in time?"

Sirius abruptly spun around and hugged him. Harry squeaked and clung to him, half-crushed, his face buried in Sirius's robes. It was uncomfortable, but he never wanted Sirius to let go.

"You are my son," Sirius said fiercely, pulling back to look Harry in the eye. "And you are going to survive. Yes, you can learn. I am awfully bloody motivated to teach you, and we'll meet every day if we have to."

"How can we, though?" Harry had to ask, even though Sirius's words made warmth thrum through him. "I know the Dementors aren't crowding around the school anymore, but you're still a fugitive, and I can't sneak away all the time."

"One of Andi's house-elves is going to come and fetch you," Sirius said. "I'm staying with her. We'll meet here just in case you need to get back quickly, but we'll meet."

Harry closed his eyes and buried his head in Sirius's robes of his own free will this time. He had something to say, but he didn't want to look at Sirius's face while he said it.

"Okay, Dad."

Sirius hugging him this time was like a dozen Christmases happening at once.

Harry hoped like hell he was the only one who noticed the shaggy black dog crouched underneath the viewers' stands when he stepped out to face the dragon. But then he had to concentrate because, well, it was a bloody dragon.

He raised his wand and thought back to all the lessons he and Sirius had had, practicing until Harry's wrist ached. Slumping back on the damp stone of the cave while Sirius told him he was doing great. Wrestling and playing with Padfoot when he needed a break. Falling asleep with his head on a warm doggy flank.

Waking up to hugs. To the knowledge that his father was proud of him.

He cast the Conjunctivitis Curse, watched it fly straight and true. The Hungarian Horntail screamed in pain and twisted her head to the side to let off a blast of fire. Harry dodged and then cast another spell Sirius had taught him, one that was more his year-level and a lot easier to learn. This made the sound of tramping footsteps come from the right, and it wasn't like the dragon could see any longer to tell the difference.

The dragon breathed fire in that direction. Harry ran around to the left and grabbed the golden egg, diving with his arms straight out.

The dragon tried to club him with her tail. Harry rolled frantically and popped back to his feet, running as hard as he could for the grass.

He made it. Barely. The dragon screamed again and lunged against her chain, but it held, and her fire fell far short of him.

Harry held up the golden egg and heard more than one person screaming his name, but what mattered most to him was the sight of a black dog dancing underneath the stands, wagging his tail and panting until it looked like his tongue would fall out.

"I do wonder, Mr. Black, how you feel about having a criminal for a father?"

Harry just smiled blandly at Rita Skeeter. Sirius had told Harry how to handle her. No matter what he said, she would use her Quick-Quotes Quill to twist it, and people who read the paper would believe her.

And the glances and mutters from last year hadn't died down, even if the professors still addressed him as "Mr. Potter" in class and no one would confront him about it. Harry knew they thought he was Sirius Black's son. They could go on thinking it. He wasn't going to defend Sirius's honor, because there was no point, but he was proud of who he was.

The people who needed to know knew. Sirius. Hermione. Ron (who had apologized for being a berk after the First Task, but who Sirius was still asking Harry to let him bite). Draco. Cissa. Professor Dumbledore.

That was enough.

"Nothing to say?" Skeeter asked, and tittered. They were in the entrance hall, and Harry had just come back in from flying around the Quidditch pitch. He could still make sure he kept up his skills even if there was no Quidditch this year. "I wonder if Sirius Black has cursed you to keep silent. That would be his style, wouldn't it? After callously siring a son on James Potter's wife and then going to prison for twelve years rather than raising that son."

Harry didn't think he could hide the way he stiffened, but at least he could keep his silence. He turned and walked further into the school. Skeeter trotted after him, and Harry thought he could hear her whispering to the quill. He walked a little faster, and then saw Draco striding towards him with his eyes narrowed.

Harry grimaced. Draco was probably going to give him a lecture on dealing with members of the press properly.

"Mr. Malfoy! I wondered about how your rivalry with Mr. Black had changed, given the inevitable revelations about his parentage. Do you think that he—"

"I'll thank you to leave my cousin alone."

Draco's voice was cold and perfectly level. Harry blinked at him. Draco blinked back, and then turned so that he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Harry. Harry decided he wasn't going to look a gift unicorn in the mouth (or however wizards would phrase that, he didn't know) and turned around and glared at Skeeter with him.

Skeeter was frowning. Harry hoped she was thinking about how it might annoy powerful people in the Ministry if she wrote something nasty about Draco. But she did say, "Mr. Malfoy, if you acknowledge that he's your cousin, then you must believe he was fathered by notorious criminal Sirius Black. Surely you realize that associating with Mr. Black isn't the best look for you? Especially with your family's unfortunate position coming out of the war?"

Shit, that's done it, Harry thought, wincing. Draco would explode now, the way he always did when someone hinted that his father had been a willing Death Eater.

But although Draco stared at her, his face cold, he said, "Nothing you could say would make me ashamed of my family. Any root of it, any branch. And I do believe that you'll be hearing from my mother soon, Ms. Skeeter. You might want to think about what you'll write back." He looped an arm around Harry's shoulders and led him away from the entrance hall.

Harry sighed when Skeeter didn't follow them. He smiled at Draco when they'd rounded a corner and were on the stairs that led up to Gryffindor Tower. "Thanks."

"Anything for you."

Harry blinked at the low tone in Draco's voice, but he had already squeezed Harry's shoulder and turned away. He had explained that it would be dangerous for some of the people in Slytherin to see him with Harry. Not joining in their jeering or calling him a cheater was about as far as he was able to go.

That was fine, Harry thought, climbing the rest of the way. He was still sometimes dazzled by waking up and realizing that he had a family.

Family is important.

Yes, it really was.