Title: Repetitions

Pairing: H/D

Rating: PG-13 to R

Warnings: Complete AU, Set in America, Slash, WIP

Summary: Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town he begins a relationship with Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery of his parent's death.

"Umm listen, Draco, I think I need to get going." Harry cast the older man a final wary look and headed for the front door of the shop. Draco stared after him; something akin to surprise swarming across his face. He chased after Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, wait! You didn't know?"

"Know what?" asked Harry, almost challengingly.

"About you parents?" answered Draco, his brow wrinkling. "How can you not know? There's even a book about it."

Harry opened his mouth to answer but found himself speechless. After a few seconds of silence he gave Draco a small smile and said, "I'll see you later."

Harry had just walked out the door when another hand grabbed him from behind and turned him around. It was the old man.

"Here, Mr. Potter," said the man, thrusting the knife at Harry, its blade now safely engulfed in a leather sheath. "Take this with you. Free of charge, of course."

Harry pressed the knife back towards the man. "I don't want that."

"Perhaps not," began the man. "But I think it wants you." He unrelentingly shoved the knife at Harry leaving him no choice but to take it. Sighing, Harry put the knife in his pocket and slowly walked to Hagrid's Jeep in a daze. The giant was cheerfully humming to himself as he stuffed small boxes into the trunk.

"Hagrid," began Harry, in a bewildered voice. "Were my parents murdered?"

Hagrid ceased his humming and the grin fell from his face. "Who told ya that?"

Harry pointed towards Ollivander's. "It's true, isn't it?" He pulled out the knife the man had given him and showed it to Hagrid. "He said a knife like this gave me the scar on my forehead."

Hagrid backed away, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "I think you need to talk to Sirius about that."

Hagrid wouldn't answer any more of Harry's questions and the ride back to Grimmauld Place was quite tense. Hagrid continually cast gloomy looks at Harry and nearly swerved off the road when he saw Harry's bloodied hand. Harry explained that the knife had cut him and he was shocked by the near sob that erupted from the distraught man.

At Grimmauld Place Sirius was in the front hall speaking with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Sirius immediately noticed Harry's distressed questioning demeanor and walked over to him.

"Sirius...were my parents murdered?" asked Harry, without introduction.

Sirius grimaced and began to speak when he noticed the bloody hand. "What happened to your hand?"

"I was cut," explained Harry. "Now about my parents..."

Sirius avoided Harry's question by pulling him into a downstairs bathroom and tending to the cut. Harry sat on the toilet as Sirius wrapped gauze around the wound. "How did this happen?" questioned Sirius, after the cut had been bandaged. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out The Lion's Blade.

"Good Lord! Where did you get that?" asked Sirius, yanking the knife from Harry and frowning at it.

"A man at a place called Ollivander's gave it to me. He said one like it gave me my scar and that my parents were killed." Harry paused and looked up at Sirius. "Were they?"

Sirius ran a shaky hand down his face and mumbled, "Damn Ollivander..."

"Sirius!" exclaimed Harry. "Were they killed?"

Sirius sat on the edge of the tub and stared dolefully at his godson. "God, Harry I didn't want you to learn like this. What did Ollivander tell you?"

"Just that they were murdered in cold blood."

He sighed and gave Harry an aggrieved look. "They were."

"What happened?" demanded Harry.

"They were killed by a crazy cult leader named Tom Riddle. The cult was called the Order of the Phoenix. They killed them as some sort of ritual sacrifice. Riddle stabbed James to death and when he went to kill you, Lily somehow managed to struggle free and stabbed him with his own knife. Riddle was killed. The followers then shot your mother."

"How come didn't they finish killing me?"

Sirius hesitated before answering. "There was a lot of talk but I believe that they were panicked and well, forgot you in the aftermath."

"Why us?"

"It could have been anyone, James and Lily were just the unlucky ones chosen."

"I wonder why my Aunt lied about it."

"Only they know why they lied to you. The murder made national news at the time and I guess telling you the lie was easier than dealing with what really happened. I was going to tell you the truth as soon as you got settled in a bit and used to everything."

Harry heavily sighed and asked, "Is that cult still around?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, they disbanded shortly after your parents murdered. All known members involved with the murders were sent to prison."

Harry sat back on the toilet, closed his eyes and pulled at his hair. "This is crazy, Sirius."

Sirius nodded and the two males sat in the bathroom in a contemplative silence until Shacklebolt banged on the door demanding to use the restroom. Sirius thought they should get rid of the Lion's Blade and Harry was in agreement. Seeing the knife again would just remind Harry of the tragedy that had befallen his parents. After they disposed the knife Sirius attempted to coax Harry into joining him outside but Harry insisted on going to his room with the excuse of needing to change his blood spotted shirt.

Up in his room, Harry fell into his bed and pulled his blankets over his entire body despite the summer heat. Like most children, a young Harry Potter had believed that any of the night's monsters, real or imaginary, could be safely held at bay as long as he was completely encased in his covers. In time he realized the idea was quite foolish, but still, nothing could quite comfort him like this draped retreat. He laid there, for well over a half hour, thinking about his parents and the way they had died. He felt a surge of resentment towards his Aunt Petunia. How dare she keep this from him! Harry ultimately decided to just not think about it. Mulling over it would solve nothing. Certainly couldn't change the past. A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Harry swung the covers off and wiped at his sweaty face before saying, "Come in."

It was Ron.

"Hey Harry, I hope you like chocolate. Mom made you a obscenely huge birthday cake."

Harry smiled weakly. "I like chocolate."

"Are you alright?" inquired Ron. "You look like you're going to sweat to death. It's not that hot in here."

"Yeah..." began Harry as he went to his closet to retrieve a new shirt. "I just found out that my parents were murdered." Harry looked over to Ron. "I guess you already knew about that."

Ron blushed slightly and nodded. "Sirius didn't want anyone to say anything until he told you himself. Are you okay? I can't imagine what its like."

Harry shrugged. "I always knew my parents were dead. I'm just pissed my relatives lied about it. Plus the way they were killed...its all so messed up."

"That's for sure," agreed Ron. "Their murder haunted this town for a long time. People won't even go near Godric's Hollow. They are more scared of it then they are of this place."

"Godric's Hollow?"

Ron looked as though he didn't want to answer. "Your parents house." he hesitantly began. "That's where it all...happened."

"I see. And Godric's Hollow is it's name?" asked Harry. "Do all the people here name their houses?"

"Only the rich people."

"Well, my parents couldn't have been rich," said Harry. "My Uncle Vernon used to yell at me about how my parents hadn't left a dime to support me."

"I wouldn't know. Godric's Hollow looks like it used to be a nice place."

"Hmmm." Harry stared into his closet, really seeing anything at all. An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as Harry thought about his parents. Eventually, he presented two shirts to Ron. "Which of these goes better with the pants?"

Ron gave Harry a toothy grin, clearly relieved at the change of topic. "Trying to impress that boy you told me about?"

"No!" exclaimed Harry. "I just want to look nice for my birthday party."

Ron tried, but failed, to repress his snicker.

"Well?" Harry slightly shook the shirts. "Which one?"

"I don't know! Hell. I just throw on whatever's clean."

Harry considered each carefully and decided on the tight green t-shirt. "I think I'll go with the green."

"You do that," said Ron, shaking his head. "Your worse than my sister." Ron perked and turned to Harry. "I should warn you about Ginny. She just broke up with her boyfriend is on the prowl for a new man. I didn't tell her you were gay. I didn't know if it was a secret or anything."

"Nope," said Harry as he changed into the green t-shirt. "I didn't tell anyone back in Surrey but I intend to be open about it here."

The two boys made their way to back yard and Harry stopped short at what he saw. Numerous tables covered with white fabric littered the backyard with several people, nearly all of them unknown to Harry, milling around in groups laughing and talking among themselves. One long table sat at the front with a humongous chocolate cake taking up nearly the entire length. A smaller round table sat near it, laden with a huge pile of presents. Harry eyed that table with much eagerness.

Sirius emerged from a sea of redheads, no doubt the rest of Ron's family, and wrapped an arm around Harry's neck.

"You okay?" asked Sirius.

Harry nodded and looked around. "Who are all these people?"

"Most of them were friends of your parents," explained Sirius. "I'll introduce you around."

Sirius first pulled Harry over to the Weasleys, in particular, a tall reedy balding man tending to a large barbeque grill, shooing a meddling Mrs. Weasley away with his spatula.

"Harry, this is Arthur Weasley," said Sirius. Mr. Weasley smiled at Harry and shook his hand. "He is the patriarch of this herd of redheads."

"But we all know who wears the pants in the family, don't we, Mom?" interjected a young man in a Hogsmeade State University t-shirt and khakis, as he roughly pounded Mrs. Weasley on the back, nearly causing her to tumble to the ground.

"Really, George!" Mrs. Weasley admonished as she straightened herself.

"I'm George!" An indignant voice cried out. A young man identical to first pushed to the front and turned to his twin. "You would think that after all these years our own mother would be able to tell us apart." George's face contorted with anguish. "Shows how much she loves us, doesn't it?"

"That's all right, George," said Fred, equally as teary as he draped an arm around his brother. "We still have each other."

Mrs. Weasley glared at her twin sons before turning to Harry. "These two brats are Fred and George," explained Mrs. Weasley, taking over the introductions. The twins cheerfully waved to Harry. "They are sophomores up at the university." She looked over at them and continued very sternly. "But they're going to be homeless bums if they don't get their GPA up."

"C is for cookie and that's good enough for me," sang Fred, under his breath.

Mrs. Weasley frowned at Fred before turning to a bespeckled, redheaded boy. "This is Percy," She said proudly, patting him on the shoulder. "He just graduated from Washington University down in St. Louis and will be soon attending Harvard Law School on a full scholarship." Percy primly inclined his head to Harry and gave him a thin-lipped smile. "He's made us all very proud!"

"Speak for yourself, woman!"

"This-" said Mrs. Weasley, pointedly ignoring George's outburst and motioning towards an towards a tall man with long hair in black leather pants and a green t-shirt. He had his arm around a petite, strikingly beautiful blonde. "-is our son Bill and his fiancée Fluer. They are getting married at the end of August. Don't let his rock star appearance fool you." She said, looking disapprovingly at his long hair. "He works as an investment consultant down at the bank."

"Ello, Arry," Fluer said in a soft French accent. She held her hand out and Harry was about to shake it when he realized she expected him to kiss it. He gave the hand an awkward peck.

"And this is Charlie," continued Mrs. Weasley, indicating a stocky, very freckle-y man. "He is a zoology professor at the university." Ron, who was standing next to Harry through it all, nudged him in the side and wiggled his eyebrows. Harry realized that this must be the gay brother and blushed as he shook the man's hand.

"Where is Ginny?" asked Mrs. Weasley, straining her neck to look over the crowd. She spotted a redheaded girl in a short pink dress blatantly flirting with a dark haired man at least ten years her senior. "Virginia Weasley! You come over here right now!"

Ginny pranced over, causing her ponytail to energetically bound from side to side. Harry," began Mrs. Weasley in a crooning voice, pushing Harry towards the girl. "This is our only daughter Ginny, the baby of the family. She is 16 and starting her junior year at the high school." Mrs. Weasley looked back and forth between Harry and Ginny, a coy smile planted on her face.

"Hi Harry," said Ginny, flashing him a wide grin. "You're very cute."

"He's also very gay!" Ron happily exclaimed.

Ginny's and Mrs. Weasley's faces fell. Ginny looked to Harry for confirmation and he nodded with a blush. The youngest Weasley sighed, shrugged and walked away, her interest in Harry now gone.

With the introductions to the Weasley's over, Sirius led Harry around to their remaining guests. Harry forgot most of their names almost immediately. Though a few did stick out such as Mr. Albus Dumbledore, a tall thin man with an extremely long white beard and twinkling blue eyes behind half moon glasses. Mr. Dumbledore was the principal of the high school and told Harry he looked forward to seeing in the new school year.

Another notable guest was Nymphadora "Call me Tonks" Tonks, who arrived late with Remus. She was a pale, achingly thin young woman wearing a spiked wig in a most fierce shade of purple. She laughed at Harry, noticing him staring at the wig.

"I always say if you're going to wear a wig then you might as well go all out," said Tonks as she adjusted her headpiece.

As Sirius had promised, he had gone all out for Harry's birthday party and arranged several games and activities for the afternoon. However, Harry thought his godfather might have gone just a tad overboard when the clown arrived.

"It's for the kids," explained Sirius, practically giddy as the clown wrapped around a long balloon around his neck, twisting it into a bowtie.

Harry snickered and returned to his water balloon fight with Ron and the twins. Fred and George were preoccupied with attempts to pound Percy and their mother with balloons. This enabled Harry and Ron to sneak behind them and pelt them with over ten balloons before the twins retaliated by dumping an entire cooler of ice over the younger boys. Completely drenched, both Harry and Ron peeled their shirts off. Whistles and catcalls abounded from all sides. Not to be outdone, George and Fred, likewise, removed their shirts. They frowned at the resulting silence.

Ginny sauntered over and sneered at her brothers before turning appreciative eyes to Harry. "I can still look!" She haughtily told the smirking Weasley males. Harry felt a little uncomfortable under her hot gaze and excused himself with the real need of fixing his contacts.

In the downstairs bathroom, Harry made the mistake of taking out his contacts and spent over ten minutes trying to get them back in. Ron came into the house and told him from behind the bathroom door that it was time to eat. Harry gave up on his contacts and put them in their plastic case. He was just about to go to his room for his glasses when he heard the shocked voice of Ron.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was invited," came the lazy reply.

Harry smiled to himself and rushed out of the bathroom. "Hi Draco! I was wondering if you were going to come."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," said Draco, sending a smirk Ron's way.

Ron's eyes were large and disbelieving as he looked at the two boys before him. Harry was grinning stupidly at Draco who in turn was devouring Harry's bare chest with lusty eyes. "Holy Shit." Ron muttered quietly to himself as he hesitantly walked out of the hall, pausing several times to look over his shoulder.

"I don't think Weasley approves," said Draco, after Ron had completely left.

Harry gave Draco a questioning look. "I told him I had invited someone...hmmm. Do you two not get along?"

Draco made noncommittal noises and abruptly changed the subject. "Why are you squinting like that?"

"I took my contacts out." Harry reached into to his packet and flashed the contacts case. "And can't get them back in."

Draco pushed Harry into a chair and took the contacts case from him.

"What are you doing?" asked Harry.

"Putting your contacts in," replied Draco as he tilted Harry's head back. "Look up."

Harry was intensely aware of how close he was to Draco. A minty, spicy fragrance wafted from Draco and Harry instinctively leaned into it. He did not realize that he was nuzzling against Draco until the blond's chest rumbled with laughter.

"Stop fidgeting," commanded Draco. "Or I'll end up poking your eye out."

Harry's cheeks were tinged pink as he attempted to stay as still as possible. Draco managed to get the contacts in, despite Harry scrunching his eyes shut whenever Draco's finger came close.

"Thanks," said Harry, blinking away a few errant tears, as he grew accustomed to the contacts again. "I don't think I will ever get used to touching my eye."

Draco chuckled. "Well, I guess I will have to come over everyday and put them in for you."

"I hope I can afford your services."

"I'm sure something could be arranged," said Draco, smirking. Draco suddenly turned serious and cocked his head to the side. "So how are you feeling? This morning didn't leave you in the best of circumstances."

"I'm alright," said Harry, his face turning grim. "Sirius told me the truth. My relatives had said that they died in a car accident."

"I suspected it might be something like that." Draco stepped forward and grabbed Harry's bandaged hand. "And how is your cut?"

"It's okay," said Harry. "Only a flesh wound."

"Good," said Draco, turning away to pick up a package gaily wrapped in pink floral paper adorned with white and silver ribbons. He thrust the package at Harry. "Happy Birthday, Harry Potter."

"Nice wrapping paper!" teased Harry.

"Yes, well, my mother wrapped it," explained Draco, blushing a soft pink. "I told her you were a 17 year old boy and not a 4 year old girl but she didn't seem to know the difference. I said just because you were gay that didn't mean-" Draco broke off and peered intently into Harry's face. "You are gay, aren't you? I don't much care to convert another straight boy, but I can make an exception."

"Yes, I am," said Harry. He scrunched his eyebrows. "Is it difficult? Being out of the closet here? I haven't been open about it before. The people in my old town were pretty conservative."

"It's easy for me," said Draco, very smugly. "My father owns this town and if anyone dares to mess with me there'll be hell to pay."

"Well, it's good that he is so accepting...I guess."

"Yes..." mused Draco, looking thoughtful. "He always has been. Even before I knew I was gay. In the early nineties he tried to introduce legislation legalizing gay marriage. The Republican Party couldn't throw him out fast enough. He's been an Independent ever since."

"He's a politician?"

Draco nodded. "He's a Senator now, I think he is going to have a go at Governor in the next election." Draco grimaced and shook his head. "I hope he doesn't. During election years all these stupid campaigning people invade our house, acting like they own the place. It will be worse if he tries for Governor. As an Independent he has to campaign twice as hard."

"Why doesn't he just join the Democrats?" asked Harry.

"That will be a cold day in hell," said Draco, scoffing. "He may have some liberal ideas but he is a Capitalist through and through. He thinks Democrats are Socialist scum ruining the economy. Well, enough politics." Draco leaned forward and drummed his hands on top of the package. "Open your present."

"I'm not supposed to open presents until after the cake and-"

"Now!"

Harry let out a mock sigh and gingerly began unwrapping the package, first carefully easing off the ribbons.

"That's not how you unwrap a present," declared Draco, reaching forward and wildly tearing the paper away to reveal a plain white box. Once the wrapping and ribbons were cleared away Harry opened the box and pulled out a silver dragon about ten inches in length and 8 inches tall. The dragon's long neck was arched back and its reptilian mouth wide in an eternal roar. Intricately wrought, no detail was spared attention, from its deep-set obsidian eyes to its widespread wings to every individual scale, each but a thin plate of melded silver.

"It's beautiful," said Harry as he ran a hand over the dragon's back. A prickly feeling ran down his spine and the strangest thought came to him. With both hands firmly planted under the dragon Harry lifted the dragon up and presented it to Draco. "But...it's yours, isn't it? It belongs to you."

"Funny you should say that," said Draco, taking the dragon from Harry and inspecting it from all sides. "It's a family heirloom, I think. When I was little I was convinced it belonged to me and played with it behind my father's back. He was furious when he found out and locked it away in a vault. He finally let me have it for my sixteenth birthday. The second I saw you I was reminded of this dragon and thought you should have it."

Draco set the dragon on the table beside Harry. He then laid a hand on each side of Harry's chair and leaned forward. When his face was just scant centimeters from Harry's he asked, "Doesn't such a nice present deserve a nice thank you?"

"Heeeeeelllllllooooo?"

Harry felt the barest whisper of lips before Draco abruptly broke away. Draco glared at the intruder.

"Bad timing, Nymphadora!" exclaimed Draco as the purple haired woman came into view.

"Draco! I didn't know you were invited to this shindig." Tonks eyed them with amused suspicion. "What were you two boys doing in here?"

"Draco was just giving me a birthday present," said Harry, quickly, motioning towards the dragon.

"Your dragon!" cried Tonks, looking at Draco in surprise. "I can't believe you gave him your dragon." She turned to address Harry. "He used to play with it all the time until his father took it away. Why he cried his little eyes out then and that's all he would talk about for months to anyone who would listen. I want my dragon! I want my dragon!"

Draco glowered at Tonks and indignantly said, "I was just a little bo-"

"You were 13!"

"Well, I wasn't crying. I was merely expressing the injustice-"

"I assure you, he was crying," said Tonks to Harry. She reached over and tousled Draco's hair. "It was quite heart wrenching."

Draco lightly fumed and patted his hair back down. "You need to stop taking your hair envy out on me." He sneeringly looked at Tonk's wig. "At least that purple thing is a vast improvement over that pink mess you were wearing last week."

Tonks let out a low chuckle and she wrapped an arm around Draco, pulling him into a one armed hug. "Things never change with you, that's why you're my favorite cousin."

"You're cousins?" inquired Harry.

"Oh yes," said Tonks. "Our mothers were sisters. All part of the noble house of Black. There's a family tree around here somewhere. If Sirius hasn't tossed it."

"Everyone in this godforsaken town is related to each other in some way," said Draco.

"Indeed, you'd think we lived in Appalachia," said Tonks. "Well, we had better go to the back or they'll be sending a search party for the search party. Molly won't let anyone eat until the birthday boy comes out. You could hear Hagrid's stomach rumbling a mile away. It's frightening the children."

"Hagrid is here?" asked Draco, faltering in his step.

"Draco, its time to let go," said Tonks, pulling him towards the back yard.

Harry picked up his dragon and followed them to the back yard. Sirius lifted an eyebrow at Draco's presence but said nothing. Harry started to sit at the table where Sirius, Remus, Tonks, and Hagrid sat but Draco pulled him another table on the opposite side of the yard. Ron, Ginny and the twins soon joined them. Several people came by the table to look at the dragon. Mr. Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley took an especially long time examining the gift.

Throughout the meal Harry became increasingly aware of the tension between Draco and Ron. To the amusement of Charlie, the embarrassment of Harry and the annoyance of Draco, Ron redoubled his attempts to push Harry towards his brother. Even Charlie's protests that he was far too old did little to impede Ron. It wasn't until Mr. Weasley yelled at his youngest son with a vehemence that seemed to surprise the man himself did Ron cease his efforts. Harry only hoped that his potential involvement with Draco would not dampen the blossoming friendship he had with Ron.

After everyone had eaten Harry was pushed to the front to blow the candles on his cake while everyone sang Happy Birthday. George and Fred's rendition was particularly off key and laced with lewd substitutions. Being the guest of honor, Harry was given the first and largest piece of cake. The cake was quite good and Harry was so involved with the task of eating it that he was greatly startled when he felt a warm tongue lash across his cheek.

"You had a bit of icing," explained Draco, patting Harry's cheek with his index finger. "Right there."

"That's what napkins are for," said Ron, with narrowed eyes on Draco.

"Why waste a napkin when I have a perfectly good tongue to do the job?" asked Draco, all innocence.

"Because its sexual harassment, that's why! You can't lick people without their permission," replied Ron. He turned to Harry. "You have to stop him now or else he will start taking all kinds of liberties."

"I don't mind," said Harry, hoping to snuff the impending fight. However, everyone ignored him and the argument escaladed, especially after Remus, Shacklebolt and Tonks were called in for legal definitions of sexual harassment. The three lawyers were of differing opinions and began a very heated debate. Percy nearly broke his neck rushing over to join the dispute. Sirius finally put an end to things by declaring it time for presents.

Everyone gathered around Harry as he opened his presents. He felt a little awkward receiving so many presents from people he really didn't know but that did not stop him from ripping into the gifts with unrestrained glee. He received the type of presents one might expect a teen boy to receive. CDs, movies, clothing and the like. Sirius had gotten him a laptop computer saying he would need it for school. Harry was thanking everyone profusely when Sirius interjected, "You're not done yet!"

He pulled Harry to his feet and led him towards the garage with the party guests following behind. Sirius opened the garage doors with a flourish and inside sat two gleaming motorcycles, one of them covered with a big red bow.

"Wow!" exclaimed Harry as he rushed to the bike with the bow. "Is it really mine?"

"Of course. This one is mine," said Sirius, ginning as he swung a leg over his bike and revved it up. "Prongs and Padfoot ride again!"

"Prongs?" asked Harry.

"Prongs was your father's Marauder nickname," said Sirius. "That was his bike."

Harry's face lit up at that news and he pulled himself onto the bike and settled into the seat. He ran his fingers over the various dials and knobs. "This is so cool."

"Isn't it?" Sirius shut his bike off and came over to Harry. "That is a Harley Davidson Firebolt. It was a part of a limited production. Only 50 of them were made. I never knew how your father afforded one. God knows your Grandfather wouldn't have paid for it. He was so mad when James bought it. He tried to take it away but your Grandmother talked him into letting James keep it. It's been in storage ever since James and Lily died. I had Nicky down at Zabini's fix it up."

"Just you remember to be careful," advised Remus. "Motorcycles can be very dangerous. Sirius and James got themselves in more than a few accidents."

Sirius waved him off. "Just a few cuts and scrapes. We took it like men. Unlike some people who were too scared to even go near a motorcycle."

"Some people value their lives," retorted Remus, not taking Sirius' bait.

"Seeing you on that bike sure does take me back," said Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley pulled up beside him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He looked down at his wife. "It's been so long since we have ridden."

"Arthur, I know what you're thinking. We're too old," said a giggling Mrs. Weasley as Mr. Weasley kissed the top of her head.

"Oh Molly, we're never too old," cooed Mr. Weasley.

The Weasley children, including the older ones, looked completely revolted at their parent's display of affection. Ron and Ginny joined the twins in making retching sounds.

"Anyway," said Mr. Weasley, ignoring his children's disgust. "Remus is right. Do be careful."

"Don't worry, we will be," said Sirius. "We'll start your riding lessons tomorrow, Harry."

"Can't we do it today?" asked Harry, unable to stop himself from eagerly bouncing in his seat.

"Easy tiger, we need still need to get your helmet."

"Please?"

"No!"

After much begging, he and Sirius reached a compromise and Harry was allowed to turn the bike on so that could used to the growling, rumbling machine.

"This feels funny," said Harry as the bike shuddered beneath him.

"You'll get used to it," assured Sirius. He paused and scratched his chin. "Though your father never really did. I don't think he minded. Said the vibrations turned him on."

"Uhhh...I really did not need to know that."

Sirius chuckled and pounded Harry on the back. "Don't spend all afternoon on the bike."

Bored with watching Harry sit on the bike, everyone returned to the backyard with exception of Draco. He looked around the deserted garage with a gleam in his eye and pulled the door shut.

"Wanna take me for a ride?" asked Draco.

"Sure," said Harry, nodding his head back. "Hop on."

Rather than get behind Harry, Draco pulled Harry hands down and climbed on the bike so that he was in the front, facing Harry. He leaned against the bike and draped his arms over the handles.

"Your father was right," said Draco, grinning lecherously. "This is very, ah, stimulating." Draco tilted forward. "Are you feeling stimulated?"

"I might be," croaked Harry, feeling a tightness in his pants and realizing his entire lower half was pressed against Draco's. He automatically scooted back in his seat. Draco inched forward and placed his hands on Harry's naked sholders. His fingers lightly danced over the heated flesh.

"I think you are," said Draco, pressing forward even further, silver eyes shining. "Oh! Why, yes you are, you naughty boy!"

Harry let out a strangled cry and attempted to pull back but Draco had him firmly in his clutches.

"Close your eyes," whispered Draco as his fingers trailed up to Harry's face.

"What?" asked Harry, eyes wide, unable to hear Draco over the roar of the motorcycle.

Draco gently pushed Harry's eyelids down and brushed his fingers against the dark lashes.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to kiss you."

"You are?"

"Yes, now hush."

Draco slid his hands to Harry's hair, pulling him forward. Harry licked his lips in anticipation and Draco dove in, capturing Harry's tongue before it could retreat. He sucked long and hard on the wet, wiggling organ, eliciting a whimper from Harry. Encouraged, Draco plunged his tongue between Harry's eager lips. Harry returned the favor and the two boys began a slow exploration, each of them tasting of Mrs. Weasley's chocolate cake.

Feeling rather bold, Harry ran his hands down Draco's back to cup his cheeks, to feel the firm muscles and pull him closer. They broke apart suddenly, both of them panting for air. Harry hadn't even had time to catch his breath before Draco's lips were on his own again, roughly smearing against them. Draco's mouth then traveled down the firm line of Harry's jaw, down the slope of his chin, leaving Harry shivering in the July heat. And feeling the earth move, literally.

The abrupt end of their kiss shocked both boys and they were barely able to steady the motorcycle that had begun to move forward. Once stable, Harry reached behind Draco and turned the bike off.

"They were right," mused Draco. "These are dangerous." He grinned at the shy smile on Harry's flushed face. "What I want to know is how someone as cute as you has gone 17 years without getting kissed?"

"Who says I haven't kissed before?" asked Harry, looking away.

"I can tell," said Draco as he reached up to straighten Harry's tangled hair. Noticing Harry's embarrassment, he continued, "Don't be embarrassed. I like being the first."

"I wasn't, er, bad at it, was I?"

Draco laughed and leaned forward, rubbing his own hardness against Harry's.

"What does that tell you?" breathed Draco into Harry's ear. Draco was immensely pleased with Harry's choked gasp and ran his tongue along the outer shell of Harry's ear. He gave the earlobe a brief nibble and said, "We better go before we start something you're not prepared to finish."

Draco quickly ambled off the bike and headed for the garage door. Harry let out a frustrated sigh and followed him, incredibly grateful for the bagginess of his pants.

Things were winding down in the back yard and several guests had left already, leaving only the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks and oddly enough, the clown who was twisting yet another balloon around Sirius' wrist. Mrs. Weasley was directing her complaining children in a wide scale clean up. Draco surprised everyone by lending a helping hand. He didn't seem like the type to take to manual labor.

Mrs. Weasley ran a tight ship and it only took a mere ten minutes to get everything cleared away and returned to their proper place. The clown, Remus, and Tonks soon left afterwards. As did the Weasleys, except for Ron who was sleeping over.

"I wish I could spend the night," said Draco, finding a moment alone with Harry as Ron went to the Ford Anglia to get his overnight bag.

"You could," said Harry, grinning mischievously. "Sirius won't mind."

"I can't," said Draco, looking unhappy. "Father is having a party tonight and I'm expected to be there."

"That's too bad. Perhaps another time."

"Another time for what?"

Draco and Harry looked over to see Ron frowning at them.

"None of your business, Weasley." Draco turned to Harry and pecked him lightly on the cheek. "I have to go."

"Buh bye, Malfoy," said Ron, overly cheery as he rounded up the front steps to Grimmauld Place and disappeared behind the heavy doors.

Harry stared after him but his attention was brought back to Draco when the boy suddenly grabbed his hand placed a piece of paper in it.

"This is my phone number," said Draco. "Call me soon?"

Harry nodded and watched Draco get into his car and drive off. Once the boy was out of sight Harry entered Grimmauld Place in search of Ron and Sirius. He found them in the kitchen.

"Hey Harry," said Sirius as he reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled beer. He pressed the bottle against his forehead for a few seconds before taking a long swig.

"Can I have one of those?" asked Ron, eagerly.

Sirius hesitated then shrugged. "What the hell, it is Harry's birthday after all." Sirius retrieved two more bottles and tossed one to Harry and Ron. "Just don't tell your mom, Ron. She'd kill me."

"What she don't know won't hurt her," said Ron before enthusiastically downing the beer.

Harry timidly took a drink of the amber liquid. His face scrunched up at the bitterness.

Sirius laughed at Harry and said, "It's an acquired taste."

"I can't believe people actually drink this stuff," said Harry, even though he took another sip, not really wanting to look like a wimp in front of Ron.

By 9 o'clock that night everyone was fairly drunk. Sirius was in the study singing along to his old albums. The sweet sounds of Bette Midler's The Rose drifted throughout the house to the front steps where Harry and Ron nursed their beers, now lukewarm, Harry's tenth and Ron's twelfth.

"God, Sirius has really bad taste in music," said Harry.

"It's not so bad," said Ron as he tried to capture lightening bugs between his hands. "At least he's not making us dance with him anymore."

"So true," agreed Harry, nodding energetically, causing his head to scream with pain. "Oh god, I am never drinking again."

"That's what everyone says."

"I mean it. Besides Sirius said just this once."

"Sirius will let you. He's cool like that." A curious look passed Ron's face. "Have you ever though about, well, you know, with him?"

Harry was scandalized. "Eww! How can you even ask that?"

"Well, you're both gay..."

"So?" shrieked Harry "Plus, he adopted me. That pretty much makes him my father."

"Its not like you're really related."

"Still! Eww!" Harry smiled. "Anyway, I like Draco."

Ron grimaced. "Now that's gross."

"Ron," began Harry, finally asking something that had been bugging him all day. "Why do you seem to hate Draco so much?"

"Harry, you don't know him. Not really," replied Ron, suddenly very sober. "He's an arrogant prick. He thinks just because his father is rich and powerful he can have anything he wants." Ron paused, looking very thoughtful. "Anything at all and he doesn't care who gets hurt in the process."

Harry sighed heavily, not liking Ron's assessment of Draco. "Ron-"

"No, just listen to me, Harry. Malfoy has a reputation. He goes through boys like Kleenex and throws them away just as easily. I just don't want to see you get hurt. You're so innocent and naïve and-"

"I'm not innocent and naïve!" protested Harry.

"Yes, you are. Just be careful with him, okay?"

Harry was about to protest again but looked into Ron's earnest face and merely nodded.

Harry awoke to something firm and rubbery beneath his cheek. He opened one groggy eye to see a white Nike sign emblazoned against the black sole of a shoe. Harry bolted upright and paid dearly for it. He clutched at his pounding head, wondering why he was using Ron's shoes as a pillow. Then it all came back to him, the beer, the Bette Midler, the conversation with Ron, the midnight tequila shots, the Bette Midler. He spotted Ron just a few feet away, uncomfortably curled on a couch, feet dangling off one end.

"Ron! Ron!" called Harry, his voice haggard and rough. "Wake up!"

Ron jerked awake and cautiously sat up. His read hair stuck out everywhere and the nubbly fabric of the couch was imprinted across his cheek. He wiped a string of drool off his chin and squinted at Harry.

"You look like shit."

"You should see yourself," said Harry as he rubbed the gunk out of his eyes, immediately noticing that he forgot to take his contacts out before going to sleep. His eyes burned with revenge. He stumbled to his feet and made his way to his personal bathroom all while tripping over furniture he was positive was not there before.

A half an hour later Harry entered the kitchen freshly showered. He wore his glasses, not daring to even attempt to put in his contacts. Sirius was humming softly as he poured water into the coffee pot. Ron was slumped over the kitchen table, sneering at the disgustingly chipper man. Harry joined Ron in the slumping, and the sneering.

Sirius took one look at them and exploded into laugher, making both boys wince and rub their temples.

"I know what you boys need," said Sirius. He pulled out two coffee mugs and began sprinkling various spices in them, seemingly at random. He filled the cups with coffee and finished it off with a big dollop of Tabasco sauce. Harry and Ron hesitantly took the offered cups. Harry's lips curled in distaste at the pungent odor.

"What is this, Sirius?" asked Harry as he stared into the reddish brown liquid.

"Pepper Up. An old friend taught me how to make it. It will kill any hangover."

"Smells like it would just plain kill you." Ron tapped his cup against Harry's and said, "Bottoms up."

Harry watched Ron swallow the concoction in one big gulp. His face immediately turned a violet red and tears ran down his face. Sirius laughed manically when Ron ran to the kitchen sink and put his entire head under facet, eagerly drinking the gushing water. A minute later he emerged from the facet and leaned against the counter, panting for air, water running down his face. All he could say was, "Damn."

Against his better judgment Harry drank the Pepper Up. After a repeat of Ron's performance he stood next to the boy, dripping wet, and said, "Damn is right."

"But you feel better, doncha?" asked Sirius.

"I would hardly say I felt better," panted Harry.

"It will pass," insisted Sirius. "You guys better go change your shirts. We have to get a motorcycle helmet. Oh and Mr. Dumbledore reminded me that you need to go register for school."

Ron drove Sirius and Harry into Hogsmeade and along the way Harry asked his godfather why he didn't have a car. A blush crept up on Sirius' face.

"Well, I always just rode my motorcycle before I got sent up to Azkaban. I don't exactly know how to drive a car. I took the test after I was released but kinda, er...failed."

Harry snickered and said, "I passed on my first try."

Sirius's blush deepened but he said, "You have a license? Well then, we should get a car. Hagrid's probably tired of hauling our asses everywhere."

They first went to a sporting goods store that had the highly creative name of Quality Sporting Supplies. There, Harry selected a plain black helmet despite Ron and Sirius encouraging him towards the one with the flames etched on the side. Harry wanted to return home immediately so that they could begin their riding lessons but Sirius insisted on swinging by the high school to register for school.

Hogsmeade High wasn't a single building but rather a campus of buildings connected by a complicated series of enclosed walkways and skyways. There were five main buildings, each of them done in a neoclassical style. Four had the words: Gryffindor Hall, Ravenclaw Hall, Hufflepuff Hall, and Slytherin Hall carved into the stone right above the entry doors. The fifth building seemed to be nameless though it looked as if words had been sanded off the stone right above its entry doors. Harry vaguely made out an "M" as they drove pass that building. The buildings were located along one side of a street called Hogwarts Avenue. Across from the buildings sat a small building, a football field and a large parking lot, which Ron pulled into.

"I'm going to go talk to Coach Hooch," declared Ron, as he turned off the rattling Ford Anglia. "Tryouts are next week and there's still a lot of planning to do."

Sirius and Harry nodded and watched Ron practically skip towards the small building. Harry knew that football was made up the majority of Ron's life and he was anxious for the new season to start. Ron had been badgering Harry since day one to try out for the team even though Harry hadn't even touched a football before. Ron assured him that as captain of the team he could get him a place, even if it was just as a benchwarmer.

"Why, you traitorous old mutt!" exclaimed Sirius as he got out of the car. Harry turned to where Sirius was looking but all he got was an eyeful of light as the bright sun reflected off his glasses. Harry shielded his eyes with his hands and saw...a god.

The deity lounged on the flipped open back end of a shining black pickup truck, one jean clad leg bended at the knee, the other swinging precariously over the side. The man lazily stroked the fur of a black dog with one hand while other held a water bottle resting on top of a few inches of exposed stomach where his shirt had ridden up, the flesh taut and tan. He was dressed almost entirely in black, from the ridged felt of his cowboy hat shielding most of the man's face from the harsh sun to the scuffed cowboy boots tipped in tarnished silver. A large silver belt buckle fashioned into entwined snakes completed the ensemble.

At Sirius's approach the man sat up and Harry saw a glistening droplet of water run down his stomach and beneath the band of his jeans. Oh, to be that droplet of water! Harry's entire body clenched at the thought and finding his pants suddenly very snug, he reached into his pocket to discreetly adjust himself. For the second time in the last 24 hours Harry was thankful for baggy pants.

"Something caught your interest, boy?" asked the man, gruffly, though the voice was softened by a faint Texan drawl. Harry jerked his eyes up, shamefully realizing he had been starting at the man's crotch.

"I...I...I saw your water bottle and realized how, ummm, parched I was," said Harry. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling.

The man smirked, and as if to taunt Harry, took a very long drink from his bottle. Sirius who had been lavishing loving attention on the dog, finally turned to Harry and said, "Harry, this is Severus Snape, a friend of mine."

"Friends, are we?" asked Severus, skeptically.

Sirius ignored the question and said, "Sev, this is Harry Potter. James and Lily's son."

"I know who he is, Black," said Severus, disdainly, as he flicked the wide brim of his hat back. Harry met glittering eyes, blacker than sin, resting above a sharp hawkish nose. A soft pink tongue darted out of Severus' mouth to lick needlessly at already moist lips. Harry let out a tiny whimper he hoped went unnoticed. Luck was not with him.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

Harry duly nodded at his godfather, not trusting his voice.

"He's a quiet one," said Severus. His head was slightly tilted to the side as his eyes roamed all over Harry. "Look's just like his daddy. Let's hope the similarities end there."

"Be nice, Sev."

"You know I'm never nice."

"That's right. How could I forget that you're prickly, dog stealing bastard?"

"Dog stealing?" Severus arched an eyebrow. "I resent that."

Sirius noticed Harry's confusion and said, "Snuffles here is mine. When I was sent to prison he was supposed to go live with Remus but Severus dognapped him."

"I did no such thing. Snuffles came out of his own free will. Couldn't get rid of him."

"Snuffles hated you. He would never go willingly. You've obviously brainwashed him since he won't come back home."

"He just knows his true master." To prove Severus' point Snuffles leaped from Sirius to lay his head in Severus' lap. Severus smirked at Sirius and patted Snuffles' head.

"Damn mutt," muttered Sirius, glaring at the dog. Sirius abruptly turned on his heels and walked away. "Let's go, Harry!"

Harry quickly followed his godfather but not before giving Snape a sly final once over. Sirius led Harry to the unnamed building and to a large office just off the entry doors. Mr. Dumbledore was alone in the room, fiddling with a FAX machine.

"Come on. Just a little bit further," coaxed Mr. Dumbledore. He let out a loud grunt and jerked away from the machine. "There we go."

He turned and smiled, seeing Sirius and Harry. "I got my beard stuck in the Fax machine," explained Mr. Dumbledore, stroking the long white beard. "Third time this week. The staff likes to make bets." He pointed to a small dry erase board. Apparently Mr. Dumbledore had gotten his beard stuck in the FAX machine no less than ten times last week to the victory of one Ms. Sinistra.

"I must say, Sirius," began Mr. Dumbledore, bringing their attention back to him. "Mrs. McGonagall was sorely miffed that she was not invited to Harry's birthday party. I had to hear about it all morning."

Sirius blanched. "Oh hell, I forgot about her."

Mr. Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, don't tell her that. No lady likes to be forgotten. Why don't you go make amends while I get Harry registered for school. You know it takes awhile. She's over in her office."

As soon as Sirius had left Harry followed Mr. Dumbledore into his private office. It was a large room of old style architecture mixed with modern elements. A fireplace sat along one wall with built in bookcases surrounding it. Only half of them were filled with books. The rest showcased strange silver objects of every shape and size.

"Let me tell you a little history before we get started," said Mr. Dumbledore, as he took a seat behind his desk. A bag of marshmallows sat on the desk and he quickly put them into a drawer. "As you may have learned already, things are done a little differently than in most high schools." He paused then began anew. "Education is not taken very lightly here in Hogsmeade. The town itself was founded by four educators from England in 1806. Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin. Each of them held fairly radical ideas at the time, particularly, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Their contemporaries felt formal education had no place for women. The four formed a union of sorts and moved to America thinking things would be freer here. But instead they found educators were just as stodgy. So they went westward, towards the frontier. They eventually settled in this area. At the time all of this was wilderness, pretty much in the middle of nowhere but they knew that would soon change as America was rapidly expanding."

Mr. Dumbledore drank from his coffee cup and continued, "All four were quite wealthy and were able to fund the building of a university. They called it Hogwarts University. They wanted Hogwarts to be unparallel to any other, based on their own ideals. Like minded professors and educators were invited to teach, several came, some declined, put off by its isolated location. Many students flocked to the school and in the first few decades Hogwarts enjoyed a great success. But, as it goes, the four founding members really didn't care for each other and fell into much fighting to the determent of the school. After their deaths the remaining administration had a very hard time keeping things together. In the early 1900s, the state took over control of Hogwarts and renamed it Hogsmeade State University."

"During the Depression, as part of President Roosevelt's work program, an entire new campus was built across town. In the spring of 1942, Hogsmeade suddenly found itself without a high school. The furnace had exploded and the school burnt to a crisp. The school board found it more efficient to convert the old university campus into a high school then build a new one. The principal at the time, Phineas Nigellus, perhaps inspired by the four founders, convinced the school board to let him change the way things were done. Rather than teach all the students the exact same thing, students are sorted into four groups, their classes are based on where their strengths and weakness lie. Other factors are considered as well, such as what subjects they are interested in; what they want to do after they graduate."

Mr. Dumbledore suddenly stood up and walked over to a lone computer sitting in a corner he pulled out the chair and motioned for Harry to sit in it. "All students take a test and it decides where you belong. It also creates your class schedule for the year. Go ahead."

Harry began the test and was relieved to see it was mostly an aptitude test rather than SAT-like test he was expecting. Following the aptitude test he was asked a series of questions about what subjects he found most interesting, then came questions about his future plans, and finally he was asked to select classes in order of preference. When he was finished a singer piece of paper oozed out of a printer by Mr. Dumbledore's desk.

"Well this is very rare," he said, looking down at the paper. "It seems that you are equally suited for Gryffindor or Slytherin."

"So can I pick?" asked Harry, remembering that Ron was in Gryffindor.

Mr. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Why not? But you should know that the arts, literature and languages tend to be emphasized in Gryffindor, and the sciences and math in Slytherin."

Harry nodded and said, "I want to be in Gry-"

"Albus?"

Mr. Dumbledore and Harry looked over to the doorway. Severus leaned across the threshold, a deep scowl plastered on his face.

"Why, hello, Severus." Mr. Dumbledore gestured towards Harry. "This is Harry Potter, a new student. Harry, this is Mr. Snape. He teaches chemistry."

Severus' cold eyes briefly flicked over to Harry. "We've met."

"Now what can I do for you?"

"Coach Hooch has been using my Bunsen Burners to toast marshmallows again," growled Severus. "I insist that she be reprimanded."

"Now, now Severus," began Mr. Dumbledore, casting a guilty look at his desk. "You can't know that for sure."

"It was her," snapped Severus. "She's had it out for me for years."

"Well, without proof..."

"Oh, I'll get your proof." And with that, Severus stormed from the office startling Harry who had been using the time to stare openly at the man.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that, Harry. Mr. Snape is a very...passionate man at times."

"Passionate? I bet." murmured Harry. It took Harry a few seconds to focus and he turned to Mr. Dumbledore, slightly awestruck. "Is he really a teacher here?"

"For over 15 years," replied Mr. Dumbledore. "He is also the coordinator for Slytherin students."

"Is he?" asked Harry, finding this extremely fascinating.

Mr. Dumbledore nodded and asked, "Have you decided where you would like to be placed?"

"Slytherin," answered Harry, very quickly.

"Slytherin, it is."

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