Repetitions

by madam-malicia

AU SLASH Orphaned Harry Potter is adopted by Sirius Black just before his 17th birthday. In his new town, Harry falls for Draco Malfoy and tries to uncover the mystery surrounding his parents' death. NEW CHAPTER!

5. Chapter Five

Title: Repetitions

Pairing: H/D

Rating: PG-13 to R

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

Beta: SolarisDay

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.

AN: First of all I would like to send a big big thanks out to SolarisDay, my new beta. She did a bang up job and made this chapter so much better than it was.

Thank you so much for your lovely reviews. I enjoyed reading every one of them.

Some of you commented that it was a bit hard to read the proceeding chapters. I am not sure what happened but the dividers I used somehow disappeared. I will fix them soon. Also, the last chapter I promised smut. Well that didn't quite happen as Harry is a whiny little bitch with low self esteem and things didn't go as I had anticipated. Plus I pushed the scene that led to the smut to the next chapter as things were getting a bit long. Anyway, on with the story.

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Draco didn't say so, but this was not the first time he would be visiting Godric's Hollow.

It was such a silly little game, played by bored adolescents on their idle weekend nights. Five points if you touched the front step, ten if you made it to the door. A hundred if you were bold enough to break inside, not that anyone ever was. Draco had earned sixty points and the esteem of his peers in the ninth grade for daring to carve his name on an outside wall. He had nearly pissed himself with fear the entire time and he'd had nightmares for weeks afterward. Draco hoped it had weathered away by now. Call him crazy, but he figured Harry wouldn't like that he had vandalized his parents' home.

Godric's Hollow wasn't particularly special, to only look at it. Located on a small hill by the high school, it was very much like many of the other large old houses that dotted Hogsmeade's landscape. The house was made of a dark red brick with brown wood trimmings and was in surprisingly good shape for a place that had been empty for so long. In fact, if some brave family wanted to move in, they could probably do so tomorrow. Not that it would ever happen. Even the few nearby houses remained vacant, their previous residents having long decided they didn't want to live anywhere near Godric's Hollow.

No, Godric's Hollow didn't leave any type of visual impact. It didn't even look haunted like Grimmauld Place. If some random person, unfamiliar with its tragic history, should see the house from afar, they'd probably forget it before they looked away.

One had to be there to experience the horror of Godric's Hollow. There was something about the house that chilled Draco to the very marrow of his bones. Normally, he had an odd fascination for the strange, the dark and the downright spooky; but never for this place. It made him feel as though his soul was being sucked out, leaving him suffocated and gasping for air.

Harry, however, was completely oblivious and had a great excitement about him. Although Draco was pleased that Harry had cheered up considerably, it was not a feeling he shared. Harry did not seem to realize that he was supposed to be afraid of the house. He walked right up to the front door and rattled the doorknob.

"Severus didn't happen to give you a key, did he?" yelled Harry.

"No," said Draco, from where he stood next to his car that was parked a good many yards away. It was as close as he dared to go.

Harry shook the door a bit harder and it opened right up. "That was easy. Just anyone could break right in."

No worries there, thought Draco. No one would be stupid enough to attempt it.

"You coming?"

Draco squared his shoulders and slowly trudged forward. He clenched his muscles as he passed over the threshold, expecting to be struck down. He let out a breath when nothing happened.

He entered a small foyer that opened to a formal living room. Harry stood in the middle of it, looking around at everything.

For a few seconds Draco's fear morphed into shock. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but it wasn't this. It was if time had stood still in the house. All the original furniture and accents remained, right down to a small crystal ashtray on the coffee table. There was not a speck of dust anywhere. The dark wood of the mantle above the fireplace gleamed as though it had recently shined.

The house looked so normal; welcoming, even. This should have eased Draco's fears, but it did just the opposite. A house that had been abandoned for sixteen years should not look like this.

"I think this is him!" said Harry as he bounded toward the mantle and grabbed a small framed photo resting on it.

He took the photo to the couch and pulled out the one of his mother. His head bobbed back and forth between the photos.

"He really does look just like me," Harry said suddenly, startling Draco. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," said Draco, reaching out to take the proffered photo. He was immensely proud that his hand did not shake.

Harry's resemblance to his father was uncanny, although the messy black hair, in the picture, was styled in a seventies shag, and the eyes were a light hazel rather than green.

Harry moved to the other photos on the mantle. Most of them of were of James, Lily and baby Harry. He spent a particularly long time smiling at a family portrait of them all together. The smile turned into a frown when he picked up another photo, this one of a thin blonde woman and beefy man. An obscenely fat baby sat between them.

"I can't believe they had a picture of the Dursleys," Harry said tightly. "I guess the feelings of animosity were not mutual."

He slammed the photo back on the mantle face down. Draco heard the distinct sound of glass breaking.

Harry turned away from it, unconcerned and said, "I want to take a look at the rest of the house."

Draco thought that was a horrible idea. He wanted to take Harry and leave this place. But he couldn't, knowing how important this was for Harry.

"This isn't bad at all," said Harry as they explored the first floor. Each room was as neat and normal as the last. They had paused in the kitchen and Harry rifled through the drawers and cabinets. He pulled out an ancient box of crackers. "It's amazing that all this stuff is still here. It's almost like someone lives here and is just gone for the day. The way Ron talked, I was expecting a house of horrors. I wonder who owns this place now. They obviously keep it up."

"Maybe," said Draco, though he didn't believe it. Draco would be very surprised if anyone, besides them, had set foot in this house in years. "But...it belonged to your parents and since you were their only child, I would think the house would go to you."

"I'll have to ask Sirius," said Harry, biting his lip in contemplation. He looked thrilled at the prospect.

Harry began looking at the refrigerator door, which was covered in colorful little notes and random snapshots. Draco stood idly by, staring down a small corridor he had just noticed. Something sharp and prickly stabbed its way down Draco's spine but he still felt compelled to walk down it. At the end of the corridor was a set of closed French doors. Despite himself, Draco opened them.

It was a large room and Draco guessed that it might have once been the family room. The room was devoid of anything save a rolled up carpet in the corner. But it was the walls that Draco stared at.

The walls were bathed in blood. The blood had long dried into a dark brown but there was no mistaking what it was.

Vomit gurgled up in Draco's throat and he forced it back down. He took a deep breath and quietly shut the doors with trembling hands. This was obviously where the murders had taken place. He could not let Harry see this. He spent several moments controlling his breathing then returned to the kitchen. Harry was still busy reading the notes on the refrigerator and hadn't noticed that Draco left.

"Umm, Harry, I hate to do this-" He really didn't. "But it's nearing seven and my curfew..."

Thankfully, he had not yet told Harry his curfew had been extended. Draco had wanted to spend those remaining hours with Harry but he needed any excuse to get him out of the house.

Harry was disappointed but understanding. They quickly headed for the front door though they paused in the living room to retrieve as many pictures of James and Lily as they could. After dropping Harry off, Draco zoomed in the direction of his own house. He was in sore need of one of Dobby's teas.

Draco tried to stop it but thoughts and images of that room assaulted his mind. It had shaken him, terribly. He couldn't imagine Harry's reaction; it would be terrible. The implication of what had happened in that room was devastating. Harry would want to go back to Godric's Hollow, and soon. Draco couldn't prevent him from seeing it forever...unless...

Of course! The answer was obvious. He needed to act quickly. But he would need help and as much as it would burn him to ask, there was only person who Draco knew might provide it.

Despite his desperation for tea-induced respite, Draco turned away from his house and ten minutes later was in one of Hogsmeade's poorer neighborhoods. His expensive, flashy car stood out amongst the rusty claptraps that lined the street. He pulled up to a most ill-conceived structure.

It had once been a very small shotgun style house, but several additions had been made over time, with no regard to the existing structure or previous architectural style. Brick, vinyl siding, even the odd bit of stucco made up its haphazard exterior. A long series of colorful garden gnomes dotted the walkway up to the front door. Draco held on to his urge to kick them with great restraint.

The youngest Weasley answered his knock. She was very surprised to find Draco Malfoy at the door, asking to talk to Ron. After a moment's hesitation she let him inside and went to get her brother.

The interior clashed just as badly as the outside, and Draco highly doubted that even two matching forks could be found within its walls. He hoped the Weasel would hurry up so that he could be on his way. The horrid décor was an affront to his good sense of style.

"Malfoy!" Ron practically growled as he came into view. "What the hell do you want?"

"We need to talk," Draco said simply. He nodded at Ginny who was curiously looking on. "Privately. It's about Harry."

A look of deep suspicion passed Ron's face but he motioned for Draco to follow him to an outside deck.

"All right, spill it."

"Listen," began Draco. "I'm going to make this short and sweet. Harry and I went to Godric's Hollow tonight and I saw the room where his parents were murdered. It's...still covered in blood."

Ron blanched severely. "Harry must have freaked out when he saw that."

"Harry didn't see anything," said Draco. "I made him leave before he could. He doesn't know all that blood is still there and I'd like to keep it that way. I can't think of any good reason why he needs to know." Draco paused. Once his next words were out, there would be no turning back. As much as he did not want to return to Godric's Hollow, he needed to. "So tomorrow, in the morning, I'm going back there to paint over the blood...and you're going to help me."

He waited for Ron to stammer his way through all the reasons and excuses he had for not going. Though Draco was loath to spare any charitable thoughts for the boy, he couldn't blame him for refusing to help. God knows Draco probably would if the roles were reversed.

Instead, Ron stared intently at Draco as though he was trying to figure him out. He nodded, slowly, after a short while, and said, "I'll ask the twins to come along. It will go faster that way."

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After returning from Godric's Hollow, Harry began searching immediately for Severus, to let him know he was back. He found Severus standing in his pond, fishing, and wearing nothing but his hat and a pair of tight jeans over which he wore thigh-high wading boots.

Harry delayed announcing his presence so that he could a take a few moments to appreciate the fine lines of Severus' back. It was then that he noticed the tattoo. It was a bit old and faded but still quite visible; a smattering of stars on Severus' right shoulder. The largest was encased in a red heart.

Years of star gazing had taught Harry a little about the constellations and he quickly realized the stars were in the pattern of the Canis Major. And the star within the heart was Sirius, the Dog Star. Harry grinned at the incredible sappiness of the tattoo.

"Get what you need?" asked Severus, looking over his shoulder and down at the collection of photos nestled in Harry's arms.

Harry nodded and said, "I guess it's going to be a cold day in hell. Since there'll be a picture of James Potter in your house now."

"I'll live," said Severus, sounding as though it would be a close call.

Harry wondered why Severus hadn't liked his father yet had held some obvious affection for his mother. He didn't ask. He probably didn't want to know and Severus probably wouldn't tell him.

A distant galloping called Harry's attention to the far horizon where a figure in a gray riding outfit deftly rode a palomino.

"Who's that?"

"Firenze," answered Severus as he reeled in another fish. "He's an art teacher at the high school. I keep his horse for him." Severus paused and observed Firenze with approval. "That man rides like he was born on a horse."

Firenze rode up to them and leaped off his horse. A youngish face belied the shock of white hair beneath his cap.

After Severus introduced them, Firenze asked, "And will I be seeing you in my class, this year?"

Harry tried to think of his schedule. "No, I have...Trelaney? Trelawnley?"

"Ah, Sybil..." Firenze said with a touch of disgust. "You have my condolences."

"What would Albus say," said Severus, smirking. "Hearing you talk about a fellow teacher that way?"

Severus and Firenze began a rather spiteful conversation in which they badmouthed several of their colleagues that had somehow caught their ire. Ignored and uninterested, Harry excused himself to his temporary bedroom where he tried to arrange the photos of his parents in a manner that would allow him to see them all with one glance. He was finally satisfied after the seventh arrangement, and he settled on his bed with the largest of them all, the family portrait.

Now that he knew how pretty his mother had been, Harry was ashamed to admit that he'd always pictured her looking like Aunt Petunia, but with a warm smile. He gladly replaced the old false images with the much better truth. James was very much as Harry had imagined him. Since he didn't look anything like Petunia, Harry had always assumed that he got his looks from his father's side. He hadn't thought the resemblance would be so strong.

He wondered many things as he stared at his parents. Would they like him, if they were to meet today? Would he like them? How different he would be had he been raised by them? Would they care that he was gay? Sirius had said James and Lily had no problems with his own homosexuality but Harry knew that having a gay friend and having a gay son were two entirely different things.

Harry involved himself in a wonderful daydream-growing up with his real parents-until Severus called up to let him know dinner was ready. He sat the photo on the nightstand so that it would be the last thing he saw before he fell asleep and headed downstairs.

Firenze joined them for their meal, and he and Severus continued talking about workplace politics. The shrill ring of the phone silenced their conversation, and when Severus got up to answer it, Harry couldn't help but pause to examine the man's retreating ass. Realizing he wasn't exactly alone, Harry looked away and hoped Firenze hadn't noticed.

He needn't have worried. Firenze was busy checking it out himself.

A strong pang of irritation shot through Harry. Firenze had no right to look at Sirius' man like that. No right at all! Sure, maybe Harry ogled Severus at every goddamn opportunity but that was different, somehow. It just was.

Wait, Harry thought. Perhaps he was misreading the situation. He had already made a fool of himself by assuming Remus was gay. He didn't want to make the same mistake again.

"So, Mr. Firenze," Harry said casually. "Are we keeping you from your wife tonight?"

Firenze slowly looked away from Severus' ass and smiled. He seemed to know exactly what Harry was really asking and why.

"It's just Firenze. No 'Mr.' And I prefer to live a life of abstinence. I find that romantic dalliances are a distraction from my art."

But he was apparently still free to lust all he wanted, for Firenze unabashedly returned to leering at Severus. Harry scowled at him and stabbed angrily at his fish. He had planned on going to his room as soon as possible so that he could look at his parents again but he soon decided to linger around and keep a watchful eye on Firenze.

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The next day Severus dropped Harry off at the Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks law firm on his way to work. Remus had called and asked Harry to meet him there. Sirius was due to see a judge that morning and they were hoping he would be released on bail before noon.

Finally, after a long boring morning of rereading the same year old magazines, a very frazzled Remus arrived with Sirius in tow. At first Harry was immensely relieved to see him but his feelings soon turned to horror.

"You look awful!" exclaimed Harry, staring with dismay. A jagged cut began on Sirius' left cheek and ran down his neck into his chest. It was, undoubtedly, going to leave a scar. But the worst was his right eye, which was red and swollen shut.

Sirius grinned. "Ha! This is nothing! You should see Karkaroff."

"You're just so damn proud of yourself, aren't you?" Remus asked disgustedly.

"Listen, no one is going to fuck with Harry and get away with it! Those fucking Dementors got exactly-"

"Not here!" interjected Remus as he forced them into his office, away from the secretary who was clearly straining to hear the conversation.

"So," began Harry in the tense silence. "Do you have to go back to court?"

"Nope," Sirius said, haughtily. "All charges dropped. They knew they didn't have a case!"

"No case?" Remus said, looking up with disbelief. "They only had dozens of eyewitnesses and tons of physical evidence. At the very least you, should have had to pay a huge fine and gotten some time on probation. At the very least. This is very odd."

"It was Senator Malfoy."

All eyes turned to Harry.

"Draco told me his dad was going to help you get out of it."

"Why would Lucius Malfoy help me?" asked Sirius, incredulously.

"Well, whatever the reason, just be glad Lucius was in your corner, for once," said Remus. "Anyway, I need to talk to you about something else. Severus learned that, until this weekend, Harry had never seen a picture of his parents."

Sirius stilled and looked at Harry. "The Dursleys never gave you the pictures of James and Lily?"

"They said they didn't have any."

"That's a lie. That's a goddamn lie! We sent hundreds of pictures with you when you went to the Dursleys. Along with some your parent's personal items we thought you might want. Lily's diaries...their wedding rings...You didn't get any of it?"

"No," Harry said calmly. Inside, he was seething. This whole time, this whole fucking time the Dursleys had lied to him. Had kept his parent's things from him. Why? What had made them hate him and his parents so much that they would do this?

"I should have fucking realized that first day." Sirius turned to Harry. "You had so little. I should have known then. I was just so happy to get you out of there, I couldn't think of anything else."

"Calm down, Sirius," said Remus. "Getting upset isn't going to help anything."

We're going to Surrey," said Sirius. His voice was quiet and soft, but the waves of rage surrounding him were almost tangible. "Today."

"No, we are not." Remus looked pleadingly at Harry, evidently hoping he might talk some sense into Sirius.

Fuck that. Harry wanted to go to Surrey.

"Sirius," began Remus, realizing he was all on his own. "You're bound to do something incredibly stupid if you go to Surrey. And when you get arrested, Lucius Malfoy won't be there to help you out. Harry will get what is rightfully his but you will let me handle it."

"And what are you going to do?" Sirius snidely asked, obviously not believing Remus could do much of anything.

"I don't know yet," admitted Remus. "But I'll tell you this, if the Dursleys won't cooperate, then we'll go to Surrey, and I'll help you hide the damn bodies."

Sirius did not look appeased in the least but no longer insisted on going to Surrey.

Harry was of two minds. He wanted to go to the Dursleys and scream at them until his throat was raw and aching, but he knew Remus was right. If they went to Surrey, Sirius would probably get himself in trouble again. Harry wouldn't allow that to happen. He'd just have to wait and be patient.

"They had just better still have his things. If they don't..." Sirius cracked his knuckles.

"What about all the stuff up in Godric's Hollow?" Harry asked. "Does that belong to me?"

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed. "When did you go to Godric's Hollow?"

"Yesterday. Severus only had a picture of my mom and I wanted to see one of my dad. So he asked Draco to take me there to find one. Draco said I probably own the house. Do I?"

Sirius and Remus shared a look and Harry had the feeling that more bad news was coming.

"You don't. Not anymore."

Not anymore? That implied he had owned it at one time. "What do you mean?"

Sirius stared into space and did not answer for several seconds. "The Dursleys sold it shortly after getting custody of you. They sold it to a man named Shane Potter. He's your great uncle or something like that. I'm sorry, Harry. It's all my fault."

"How is it your fault?"

"Because I gave you to the Dursleys," Sirius said gravely. "After James and Lily were killed I was given custody of you but there were many-" Sirius shot a sharp look in Remus' direction. "-who felt that I was an unfit parent and convinced me that you would be better off with your aunt." He let out a cold barking laugh. "It seemed so ideal. You'd have two parents again. A brother to grow up with. And they wanted you."

"They wanted me?" Harry couldn't believe it. For as long as he could remember, the Dursleys had acted like he was a huge burden to them.

Sirius snickered. "Well, they didn't want you. I know that now, sixteen years too late. They wanted all the money that came with you."

"Money? I was told my parents left me penniless."

"No, Harry, no," Sirius said with a dark smile. "You were well, well provided for. James and Lily weren't wealthy but they were comfortable. It's all gone now. I don't know what the hell the Dursleys spent it on but there's nothing left."

Harry was completely floored. "Is that even legal?"

"It wouldn't be now," said Remus. "But the laws were different back then. There wasn't much protection for young custodial children in your type of situation. Everything was further complicated because your parents hadn't left a will, only instructions that you were to go to Sirius should anything happen to them."

"Don't worry, Harry," said Sirius. "I'm going to replace it all. Every last dime."

"You don't have-"

"Yes, I do, Harry," said Sirius, shaking his head miserably. "It's because of me that you lost everything. I should have never let you go, no matter what everyone said. You would have grown up with someone who loved you and I wouldn't have gotten into that mess with Peter."

"I don't care about the money!" protested Harry. Well, he was not being entirely truthful. As enraging as it was to know the Dursleys had taken his money, it was the least of his concerns. It was the sale of his parent's house that truly angered him. He didn't quite know what it was, but he felt something in that house. Something that made Harry feel wonderful. Something that felt like a mother's embrace, not that Harry had ever felt such a thing. "I just wish they hadn't sold Godric's Hollow."

"We've been trying to get it for you," said Sirius. "I didn't know if you'd even want it considering what happened there, but I thought you should at least have the option. I wasn't going to bring it up with you until we knew something for sure; didn't want to get you excited over something that might not have panned out. Unfortunately, Shane refuses to sell at any price."

"I really don't know why he is holding out," Remus said. "It's obviously not over money. Sirius has offered more than double the appraisal price. And, as far as I know, he's not set foot in the house since he bought it. All may not be totally lost, though; Kingsley is well versed in Real Estate law and I have him looking over a few things. He thinks you might be able to get your house back."

"How?" asked Harry.

"I better have him talk to you about it."

Remus left his office and shortly returned with Shacklebolt who carried a folder stuffed with papers.

Hello," said Shacklebolt as he pulled out a few papers and laid them on Remus' desk. "I've been very busy and I haven't had a lot of time to work on your case, just yet, but let me tell you what I've got so far and you can decide if you want to go further with it."

At Harry's nod, Shacklebolt continued, "Now I must warn you, it's going to be a long shot. What's working against us is the fact that we're disputing the sale of the house after such a considerable amount of time has lapsed, but we do have a little law on our side." He picked up a sheet of paper with what seemed to be a timeline on it. "Given the laws at that time, it would not have been illegal for the Dursleys to sell Godric's Hollow as long as the proceeds were put into a trust for you, which did not happen. You could press charges against the Dursleys and sue them for the money they received from the sale of the house. However, in doing so you would forfeit any rights you have to Godric's Hollow."

"I want the house!" Harry said fiercely.

Shacklebolt handed the timeline over to Harry. "What works for us is the timing of the sale. You see, your parents died on October 31, 1981 and Sirius was granted custody of you as per your parents' request. Less than a week later, he handed physical custody of you over to the Dursleys though he still retained legal custody as the paperwork had yet to be handled and processed. However, just a few days later Sirius was arrested and ultimately was sent to Azkaban. This delayed the guardianship proceedings. The Dursleys were awarded temporary custody of you, which was later made permanent in March of 1982. As your legal guardians, the Dursleys had the right to sell Godric's Hollow in your name, but they acted too soon. The house was sold in January of '82. At that time the Dursleys still only had temporary custody of you and that greatly reduced their legal rights. It is my belief that we can convince the courts, should we need to involve them, that the Dursleys were not legally entitled to sell Godric's Hollow when they did and that it's ownership should revert back to you."

"What about the money they already got for the house?" asked Harry. "Would I have to pay that back?"

"No. That would be an issue between the Dursleys and Shane Potter," said Shacklebolt. "It doesn't concern us."

"So what do we do first?"

"It is my recommendation that we set up a meeting with the Dursleys and Potter. Getting the state involved can be a messy and expensive process for all parties and it's always best to try to rectify things out of court."

"All right," said Harry. A new thought occurred to him. "How much is this going to cost?"

"Cost?"

"Yeah, your fees."

"Harry, you don't have to worry-"

"You can't do all this for free."

"I'll pay the fees," said Sirius.

"No," said Harry. He had to do this himself. He couldn't let Sirius keep doing things for him out some warped sense of guilt. "I want to do it. So, how much?"

"Well, my fees generally run at $175 an hour but for you-"

"I'll pay it. I'll get a job or something."

Shacklebolt sighed and looked over at Remus. "How about this, Harry. After Tonks left, Remus and I took over most of her clients. We're both overworked and could use a little more help around this place. Why don't you work at the firm and we'll take the fees out of your pay. Do you know how to file?"

"Yes."

"Good, because you'll be doing a lot of it."

And so it was settled. Sirius wasn't very happy about it but Harry convinced it him that it was important that he do it himself. Harry filled out the necessary forms for his employment and was given a quick rundown of his duties before they left. He was due to report to work at eight the next morning.

"Let's grab some lunch," said Sirius, as they got on his motorcycle. "Then we'll go home and see if I have any pictures of your parents. Most of my possessions were lost after I was sent to Azkaban but there might be something left. Remus is going to bring by what he has, later."

They went to the Leaky Cauldron where Sirius ate like a starved man. A few days of jailhouse food had left him with a voracious appetite. After an hour of stuffing themselves silly they proceeded to Grimmauld Place.

There, they went up into the very large attic, which was filled with old furniture and other junk. In a dusty, cobwebbed corner they found a few old boxes with "Sirius" written across them in black marker.

"This is all that remains of my pre-Azkaban life," Sirius said. "I haven't been able to look through it all just yet."

He went to the nearest box and opened it. There was not much of anything in the first two boxes but in the third and final box they found an old discolored photo of four young men wearing black caps and gowns and bright, wide smiles.

Sirius gave a sad sort of grin. "The Marauders. The day we graduated from Hogsmeade University. Your mother took this picture. Everything seemed so great then. We were young and had our whole lives ahead of us. We thought we were going to rule the world. But Remus was the only one who ended up with any decent kind of life."

"You have a decent life now, don't you?"

He shrugged. "I spent a large portion of my life in prison. As horrible as Azkaban was, I miss it sometimes. I knew that life and my role in it. The outside world, well, it's totally different from what I remembered in my youth. I spent my first few weeks in complete confusion. The world has passed me by and sometimes I don't think I have a place in it anymore."

"Of course, you do! With Remus and Severus. And me!"

Sirius smiled and reached out to tousle Harry's hair. "Yeah, you're right," he said, though he didn't sound too convinced. He delved deeper into the box and his despondent mood evaporated as he pulled out an old ratty t-shirt. He let out a whoop of joy and waved the shirt in Harry's face.

"My old Rolling Stones shirt!" said Sirius. "I got this at a concert in Memphis. All of us hitchhiked there when we were fourteen. We got into so much trouble. Our parents even called the police on us. It was worth it though."

Sirius sniffed the shirt then removed the one he was wearing. After a bit of a struggle Sirius had the tiny t-shirt stretched across his muscular chest.

Harry averted his gaze with a blush. He looked down at the photo instead. His eyes rested on his father then flitted over to the young Sirius. "You were really skinny back then. How'd you get so, umm, muscle-y?"

"Prison will do that to a man."

"It will?"

Sirius chuckled. "There's not much to do there except lift weights and find Jesus."

"Did you? Find Jesus?"

"Oh, Harry, I stopped looking decades ago. A-ha!" But what Sirius did find was a thick purple and white book. "This was our high school year book from our senior year."

Sirius flipped through it, pointing out pictures of the Marauders and their other friends. James Potter seemed to be the most photographed student, which Harry quickly commented on.

"James was practically the king of the school," Sirius explained. "He was class president, Prom King, the star quarterback. The girls wanted to date him and the boys wanted to be him. Everyone knew he was meant for great things. He could have gone to any college he wanted. Football recruiters came from all the top schools to try to hook him. He shocked everyone when he decided to attend Hog U."

"Why'd he do that?"

"Your grandmother fell ill that year. She died a year later. James wanted to stay close to her in the time she had left. Your grandpa passed not to long after that. He wasn't old or sick but his heart gave out one day. We figured he just couldn't go on without her. I don't think James ever regretted his decision. But he thought since he wouldn't be one of the football greats then you would be. He used to read football books to you instead of fairy tales. He wanted you to be the next OJ Simpson."

"I don't think that's going to happen," said Harry. "And considering what happened to OJ, that's probably a good thing."

Sirius laughed. "Too true."

A loud pounding from downstairs interrupted their trip down memory lane. Harry and Sirius quickly packed everything up then went to answer the door. Their visitors were the bruised and battered but very happy Thestrals. An impromptu celebration commenced as everyone congratulated themselves on having gotten off scott-free.

The festivities kicked up another notch when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arrived, along with the twins, Ron, and Ginny. Mrs. Weasley bore a large batch of baked goods for Sirius and clucked over his injuries like a concerned mother hen.

Harry was shocked by the elder Weasleys, Mrs. Weasley especially. Normally, she seemed quite disapproving of the Thestrals, but today, they were her new best friends. She even hugged Tenebrus. Both were oddly supportive of the beating the Dementors had received. Though Mr. Weasley vehemently expressed his anger that he was not called to tag along.

"Dad!" exclaimed Ginny, dazed at seeing this new side of her gentle father.

"You don't understand," said Mr. Weasley. He looked over at Tenebrus and Crystal who had grown quiet. Some unspoken communication seemed to pass amongst them. Mrs. Weasley came up beside her husband and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Karkaroff is a very bad man. He's done things. Horrible, evil things. He should be rotting in prison right now but he's not because there was never any proof of what he'd done; but I know-the world might have forgotten-but I know."

"That's right, Gingersnaps," Tenebrus said in a low growl. "We'll never forget."

It was a rather intense moment and Harry found it a little disturbing. He walked away from them and went to the kitchen where he knew Ron and the twins had gone to get some drinks. He found them huddled together around the table and whispering, conspiringly. They jumped apart as Harry entered.

"Your parents are acting really weird," said Harry. He looked at the Weasley brothers who had splotches of white paint covering their clothes and skin. All three of them were a bit pale and seemed shaken up. "So are you guys, for that matter."

"It's been a bad morning," said Ron. "But everything's cool now."

"What have you been doing? Painting?"

"Yeah," said Fred with a weak smile. "Just helping a friend with a little...home improvement project. We didn't have time to clean up before coming over."

"We heard you stayed with Mr. Snape," said Ron. "That must have been awful. You should have come to our house."

"It wasn't so bad." Harry smiled and blushed. "Plus, I got to spend a lot time with Draco."

"Aww, look at that grin," said Fred, grinning himself. "Harry must have gotten some."

"I do believe you're right, my brother," said George. "Well? Details, man, details!"

"There's nothing to tell!" protested Harry. "Besides, I thought you guys were straight. Why would you want to know about my little gay activities?"

"Sex is sex, Harry," said George. "We like hearing about any kind."

"We sure, fucking, do," agreed Fred, nodding.

"I did not have sex with Draco! We just kissed and stuff."

"It's the 'and stuff' part we want to hear about."

"Not me!" said Ron.

"Pay no attention to him, Harry," said George, waving a dismissive hand in Ron's direction. "He's just a jealous little boy who isn't getting any, except from himself."

Ron looked as though he wanted to deny George's assertion, but he slumped over the table, instead, and said, in a sulky voice, said, "It's not fair. I'm supposed to be making out with hot cheerleaders down by Odgen's Road."

"Why is that?" asked Harry.

"Well," said Ron as he raised his head and rested it on his fist. "Guys like me always get girls in the movies. I'm the captain of the football team. Popular. Not bad looking, if I do say so myself. And let's face it; I've got a pretty nice ass."

Harry and the twins snickered at that last bit.

"I do!" Ron stood up and wiggled said ass in Harry's face. "Touch it. See for yourself!"

"I'm not touching your ass, Ron."

"Feel it!"

Harry mock sighed and gave it an obligatory poke. He stopped short, then lifted both hands to squeeze and caress the cheeks. "Oh, wow! That is a good ass."

"Damn right it is," said Ron. "It's a fucking great ass!"

A cough came from the kitchen doorway. Mr. Weasley stood there with an amused look on his face. "Well, son, we're ready to take you and your great ass home. If Harry's willing to let go of it, that is."

Ron moved away from Harry's exploring hands with a flush.

"I'm not going to ask," said Mr. Weasley as he retreated.

Severus and Snuffles arrived shortly after the Weasleys' departure, with Harry's things, which had been left at Severus' house. Harry took them to his room and when he returned Severus was letting everyone know exactly what he thought of them. Basically, they were all a bunch of violent, irresponsible miscreants who should have gotten much more than a mere slap on the wrist.

Harry thought Severus was being overly harsh. Although he agreed that Sirius and the Thestrals had acted in the extreme, they had defended him and that wasn't something Harry could easily forget. Severus' presence put quite the damper on things and the Thestrals soon sought friendlier pastures.

0000000

Draco floated in his pool, letting the cool water flow over him and ease his tired body into relaxation. This was exactly what he needed after the terrible morning spent at Godric's Hollow. It had been horrible. As grating as it was to spend half the day with the Weasley brothers, he was grateful for their presence. It had sped up things greatly. And they had seemed just as bothered by the place as Draco, so he knew he wasn't completely nuts. Fortunately, that was over and done with and Harry need never know about it. When they had left, the room had looked as pristine as the rest of the house.

Hearing his father's voice drift from inside, Draco got out of the pool and followed it to Lucius' office. He had been waiting for Lucius to come home so he could inquire about Sirius Black. Lucius was not alone in his office. Bellatrix Lestrange, his aunt, was there; going over the latest financial reports of Malfoy Industries, one of the largest privately owned manufacturing companies in the Midwest; a pioneer in all things plastic.

Lucius set the financial reports on the corner of his desk where they would most likely be buried and forgotten. For a man who had always insisted on complete control on all aspects of his life, Lucius showed an astonishing lack of interest in the company that bore his name and had gained his family so much wealth.

Bellatrix, along with her husband Rodolphus, ran the company for Lucius. She was a striking woman with jet-black hair streaked with bold stripes of white. Her appearance and cutthroat antics, in and out of the boardroom, had earned her the nickname, Cruella DeVil. However nasty she was be at times, she had always had a soft spot for her young nephew, and she smiled warmly at him when he entered.

Lucius, on the other hand, scowled and said, "Jesus, Draco! You're dripping all over the floor. Attire yourself, properly."

"I will, in a minute," said Draco. "I wanted to ask you about Sirius."
"Yes, I've taken care of it. It cost me a pretty penny, I might add." Lucius frowned. "And not only that, but now your mother and I are stuck playing bridge with Judge Doholov and his wife next Sunday. Have I ever told you how much I hate bridge?"

"It won't be so bad, Father."

"Well, I'm very glad you feel that way, Draco, because you'll be joining us."

Draco groaned and flopped in a leather chair.

"I've got something that might cheer you up," said Bellatrix. She opened her briefcase and pulled out a copy of the Wall Street Journal. He and Bellatrix had been playing the stock market, together, since Draco had been a child. At first, only as pretend but when Draco had turned fourteen, Lucius had let him make his first real investment. In the ensuing years and under Bellatrix's firm tutelage, Draco had a portfolio that would be the envy of any investor.

She opened the paper and pointed out a company called Polycell Technologies. "It's a small software company in Arizona," she said. "Not worth much yet but in a few weeks they're going to be bought out by Microsoft. Naturally, it's all hush-hush right now. Invest today, make a fortune tomorrow."

"And wherever did you get this...fascinating...tidbit?" asked Lucius, lifting a skeptical eyebrow.

Bellatrix' smirk had the smug relish of the cat that had swallowed the canary. "A little birdie."

"You know how I feel about you involving your little birdies with my son," Lucius said sternly. "I had a hell of a time getting Draco out of that insider trading mess you got him into last year."

Draco and Bellatrix beamed, both fondly remembering the event.

"Just don't be greedy about it, Draco," said Lucius, seeing a great gleam develop in Draco's eyes. "You don't want to call attention to yourself."

"Of course, Father."

As Draco was leaving, Lucius said, "Narcissa and I are going out tonight and won't be home until late. Dobby will tell me if you're out after your curfew."

That's what you think, thought Draco, happily, as he went to his room. After a quick call to his stockbroker, Draco showered and got dressed. He was going to give Harry a call, but he decided to go out to Grimmauld Place and see him in person. And it had been a while since he had seen Kreacher and he was due for a visit. Draco stopped by the kitchen to let Dobby know he'd be out and see if he had any messages for Kreacher.

Dobby insisted that Draco wait for him to whip up some chicken soup.

"He hasn't been doing well," said Dobby as he poured the soup into a plastic container. "Make sure he eats all of it, and tell him I'll be by later this week."

Draco went to Grimmauld Place first. Tonks answered the door. Today she was wearing a red, curly wig.

"Fuck, Nymphadora," was Draco's reply to her cheery hello. "You look like Little Orphan Annie; worse yet-a Weasley."

"Behave, Draco," chided Tonks. "The Weasleys are good people."

She led him to the study where Harry was sitting on the floor with piles of pictures surrounding him. He smiled and motioned for Draco to join him. Remus and Sirius were standing around an old movie projector and appeared to be arguing over how to operate it. Severus lurked nearby, watching them with a disdainful eye.

Draco lowered himself to sit next to Harry. "Are you guys trying to watch a movie?"

"Yeah, if they can figure out that thing," said Harry. "Remus got in touch with the man who filmed my parents' wedding and he had some old copies. Wanna stay for dinner? Sirius is going to order some food soon."

"Actually, I was hoping you'd want to go out. My curfew's been temporarily extended."

Harry looked sad. "I can't." He waved at Sirius and Remus who were cursing as yards and yards of film shot out of the machine. "I think this is going to take some time and I have to go bed early. I start my new job tomorrow."

"A job?"

"Turns out that I don't actually own Godric's Hollow," said Harry as he began an explanation of the situation surrounding the house and how he might get it back.

"That's really fucked up."

"I know. Hopefully, everything works out."

"Well, I need to take some soup down to Kreacher for Dobby. Come with me?"

Kreacher lived several hundred yards behind Grimmauld Place in an old wooden structure that was more of a shack than a house. Draco knocked on the door a few times before walking right in. Harry cautiously followed him inside. The place appeared to be just one room that contained a tiny kitchenette and on the other side, a brass bed covered in a colorful patchwork quilt. In the middle of it all was a large iron safe.

The old caretaker sat by the safe, asleep in a rickety rocking chair. He wore nothing but a pair of filthy overalls and his pallid skin was covered in grime. Draco directed Harry to take a seat on the bed and then gently nudged Kreacher on the shoulder.

Kreacher awoke with a grunt and smiled at seeing Draco, though it shifted into a scowl when his gaze turned to Harry.

"Dobby sends his best," said Draco. He sat the soup on an old TV tray, retrieved a spoon from the kitchenette and pulled it all up to Kreacher. "He made this for you. 'You're to eat all of it,' he says."

Kreacher made his thoughts on the matter clear by turning his head away from the soup and clamping his mouth shut.

"Come on, Kreacher," prodded Draco. "If you don't, I'll feed it to you myself. You know I will."

Mumbling something about annoying brats, Kreacher grudgingly began to eat. Usually, Draco and Kreacher could talk for hours. Kreacher knew a fair amount about all kinds of spooky things that went bump in the night and Draco ate up his tales with relish. Tonight, Kreacher was reluctant to speak. Draco guessed it was because Harry was there. Kreacher seemed to dislike him immensely, and he glared menacingly at the boy, showing off his jagged, yellowed teeth, whenever he thought Draco wasn't looking.

Harry was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and clearly wanted to leave. Fortunately, Kreacher, being the very old man he was, soon drifted into sleep after his meal.

"Will you help me, Harry?" asked Draco as he tried to lift Kreacher out of the chair. With Harry's help, they quickly had him safely ensconced in the bed. Draco laid a thin blanket over him and then turned to leave. He felt sharp nails dig into his wrist and pull him back. Dark watery eyes peered up at him.

"You're making a mistake," Kreacher rasped. "He's just going to hurt you."

"Who?"

Kreacher's eyes trailed over to Harry and stayed there.

"Harry's not going to hurt me," Draco said, uneasily.

"He will," asserted Kreacher as he turned his back and curled in to himself. "And there's nothing you can do about it. Not a damn thing. It's already happened."

Draco stared down at the bed, trying to decipher Kreacher's cryptic warning. It was the ranting of a deranged old man, Draco decided. Such things were common with Kreacher these days.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked as they headed for Grimmauld Place. "Why does he think I would hurt you?"

"Don't worry about it, Harry," said Draco. "Kreacher isn't all there. He's always saying things that don't make any sense."

"Hmm, I s'pose," said Harry, though he still looked unsettled. "You seem awfully friendly with him."

Draco shrugged. "Dobby used to, sort of, act as my nanny. I would beg him to take me along when he visited Kreacher. I've always loved Grimmauld Place, especially after Kreacher showed me the secret room."

Harry stopped in his tracks. "There's a secret room?"

"Of course," said Draco, laughing. "All big scary old mansions have them. It's not much really but when I was ten I thought it was the coolest thing, ever. Want to see it?"

"Later?" asked Harry, with a glance at his watch. "Sirius is probably wondering where we are."

Back at Grimmauld Place they had finally gotten the projector running, though there was no sound. Harry and Draco settled on the floor and Tonks passed them two Styrofoam cartons of food.

"We went ahead and ordered you guys the chicken," said Tonks, "since you two ran off for a little smoochy-smoochy and weren't around to ask."

"We went to see Kreacher!" exclaimed Harry. Draco could see him blushing in the darkened room.

"Nice try, Harry," said Sirius with a snort. "Think of a more believable lie next time. No one in their right mind would visit Kreacher."

Harry was about to protest further when the film began. He shut his mouth and watched in earnest.

As far as wedding films went, this was like any other. Fairly boring and routine, though a good laugh was had by all as a young Remus walked a bridesmaid down the aisle, his tawny hair permed into a tremendous white man's afro. The wedding progressed into the reception, which was only slightly more interesting.

Draco and Tonks entertained everyone with their scathing commentary on the guests' choice of party attire. Severus Snape bore the brunt of their insults. He appeared as a young man on screen from time to time, stalking in the background and wearing a hideous black Western shirt with green piping along the edges and weird swirly patterns across the shoulders.

"It was the seventies!" grumbled Severus, as though that might excuse him.

After the film, Remus gathered the reels and handed them to Harry. "Mr. Creevey says you can keep these but I need to return the equipment next week."

Harry hugged the reels to his chest and nodded.

"We're going to head off," said Remus as he escorted Tonks to the door. "I'll come by in the morning and pick you up for work, Harry."

"Work?" asked Severus, perking. "Did you get a job?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "At the law firm."
"How about that?" Severus paused, then smiled maliciously at Sirius. "You know, it's pretty fucked when a seventeen year old boy goes off to make an honest wage while his forty year old guardian stays at home and wastes his life away."

"Is that right?" Sirius asked with an nasty smile of his own. His face twisted into something smug and ugly. "Well, Severus, sweetheart, while we're on the subject of seventeen year old boys and forty year old men, why don't we talk about the seventeen year old boy who openly declares who he wants to be with then let's talk about the forty year old man who won't even be seen in public with the person he has supposedly loved for the last twenty years? Yes, let's talk about that!"

Severus was completely unfazed. "You knew what the deal was when we started this thing," he said in bored tones.

"Yeah! I know what the fucking deal is. I'm just some fucking convenient place for you to stick your fucking dick!"

"And this is where we leave," whispered Harry. He pulled Draco out of the study and shut the door. "You really don't want to be around for this. They'll be at it for a while. Show me the secret room, now?"

"Right," said Draco, distractedly, with a curious glance at the closed study door. "We'll need flashlights."

They found a pair in the junk drawer in the kitchen. Draco then led Harry down a small hall just off the kitchen that led to the back door and basement.

"Um, maybe we shouldn't," said Harry, as Draco tried to jimmy the locked door open with a butter knife. "Sirius said the basement's a little dangerous."

"It'll be okay," Draco insisted. "I've been down there tons of times."

The lock eventually gave, and Harry reluctantly followed Draco down the steps.

"Walk softly," instructed Draco as he felt the wooden planks sag deeply underneath his weight. "The stairs are a little weak."

Several precarious steps later, Draco and Harry were safely standing on the firm basement floor. The basement was uncomfortably hot and had a deep, pungent odor. Through the hazy beams of the flashlights all they could see was an old rusty furnace and the dirty brick walls of the basement.

Draco aimed his flashlight at one wall and walked over to a section that had a long crack bisecting it, near the fuse box. He ran his hand along the bricks that were near the crack, and his face soon lit up. He selected a block and pressed it; it moved into wall and Draco stretched his hand into the small depression. He let out a grunt of effort, and a wide section of the wall sprang open.

"See!" said Draco as he waved a hand in front of the new entrance.

"Wow! So what's in here?" asked Harry, poking his head in the secret room.

"You're going to be disappointed. It's nothing but a bunch of junk," said Draco as he stepped into the room; Harry shuffled in behind him. He waved his hand around, grasping for several moments, until it grazed a dangling metal chain. He yanked, firmly, and the room was bathed in weak, yellow light from a dirty, overhead bulb.

"I always thought it was a shame to use such a cool room for something as stupid as storage," said Draco. "Me? I'd put a dungeon down here or something like that."

"I wonder why someone made this room. It had to have served some kind of purpose."

The room was long and narrow with several little nooks and crannies. It was constructed from the same dirty brick of the basement and had a packed dirt floor. The room had a few boxes and whatnot, but it contained mostly very old beds, one of which was a small crib with a stained mattress. Next to the crib was a box stuffed with toys and aged drawings that had obviously been created by a small child.

"Well, it's just a guess," said Draco, "but I know my many times great-grandfather Horace Black was repeatedly arrested for helping escaped slaves in the 1850s. It's one of the great family scandals. I always assumed the room was built to hide them."

"That's kinda cool," said Harry. He looked up and frowned, hearing Sirius and Severus' angry, muffled voices float down through the ceiling. "We must be under the study. I swear, they're constantly on the verge of breaking up. It's only a matter of time."

"It won't happen," said Draco, confidently. "Did you know he waited for Sirius? Severus and my father are really good friends. For as long as I can remember Father was always trying to set him up with someone and Severus always refused. I used to spy on them and I'd hear Father tell Severus that he was being foolish and stupid, wanting someone who was never coming back. I didn't know it was Sirius that Severus wanted until he got out of prison. Kind of romantic, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess, but sad too. Sirius had a life sentence. If Peter Pettigrew had never been found, Sirius would have died in Azkaban. Was Severus going to wait forever?"

"I dunno. Maybe."

Harry shook his head. "I don't get it. If I waited so long for someone and they finally came back to me, I'd shout it from the rooftops."

"Severus is pretty hard to figure out most of the time," said Draco, shrugging.

They explored deeper and after not finding much of interest, Harry took to looking through the pile of drawings.

"Sirius made these. He was quite the strange little artist," said Harry, passing them over.

The first picture portrayed a man who was dressed entirely in black. Draco thought he looked like a vampire. The man would have seemed quite sinister had it not been for the halo, angel wings, and wide smile on the man's face. He held a small black haired boy who looked up lovingly at him. In a corner, Sirius had signed his name in a crude childish scrawl.

Draco was about to look at the next one when a ringing, vibration sprung from his pocket. He pulled out a cell phone and answered it.

"Your parents just called," Dobby said with a frantic voice. "Their evening was cut short. They'll be home in twenty minutes."

He looked at his watch; it was almost10 o'clock. "Fuck! I'll be there!"

Draco shoved the phone in his pocket and looked at Harry in a panic. "I've got to go!"

"Is everything okay?" asked Harry as they quickly shut up the secret room and ran up the stairs.

"Everything's fine, I just need to make it home before my parents find out I'm not there."

"But I thought your curfew was extended?"

"Well, they didn't exactly know that it had been," Draco said with a wry smile.

Draco sped through Hogsmeade and made it home in less than fifteen minutes. All his rushing was for naught because when he pulled into the Malfoy Estates' large garage Lucius was already there, waiting patiently with a shamed-faced Dobby by his side.

"Five o'clock," Lucius said simply.

"What?"

"Five o'clock. That's your new curfew."

"Now that's taking things too far!"

"I disagree. You're apparently not learning your lesson. Consider yourself lucky. I was tempted to take away your driving privileges, as well, when I found out you had lied to Dobby and told him you had fallen ill and were going to bed."

Draco's jaw dropped, and he stared at the butler, who refused to meet his eyes.

"You will not like the consequences, if you continue to willfully disobey me, Draco," Lucius said. He pierced his son with a sharp look, before he turned on his heel and exited the garage.

"Dobby!" shrieked Draco. "I can't believe-"

"Sorry, young master," said Dobby, a blush gracing his pale cheeks, "but I didn't see the point in both of us getting in trouble."

0000000

Working at the Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks Law Firm was not a particularly thrilling experience. All those lawyer TV shows had lied to him. There was no high stakes drama in the courtrooms. No explosive confrontations between contentious clients. No sultry inter-office romance between svelte and sexy twenty-somethings. Just paperwork. Lots of paperwork and an old secretary named Mrs. Grasser who didn't seem to do much of anything but bore Harry with stories of her precocious 2-year-old grandson.

But as far as jobs went, it wasn't too bad. His work was easy, if a little boring. The staff was nice as long as he kept out of their way and he made a new friend in Cedric Diggory, a young pre-law student who worked in a similar office grunt function.

His days began with something of a routine. In the mornings Remus would pick up him up for work. The times when Severus stayed over he was always sure to make some caustic comment over the breakfast table about Sirius' lack of employment to which Sirius would make a biting remark of his own.

After a day at the firm Harry would either ride with Sirius and the Thestrals, pal around with Ron in Hogsmeade Village, or spend hours talking to Draco on the phone. Draco's new, very limiting, curfew did not leave much room for them to see each other though Draco usually met Harry for lunch during the day.

Saturday was Harry's first day of football practice. Knowing that his father had played and had wanted the same for Harry caused him to be much more interested in the game. His newfound enthusiasm did not go unnoticed and several of the established players started to look at him as a possible asset, rather than a hindrance, to the team.

Many parents and fans came by to watch the practice, and just as things were wrapping up a local news crew came by to interview the players. To Ron's obvious annoyance, they were mostly interested in talking to Blaise about how she felt about being the second female player to grace the team. The first being Coach Hooch herself in the early seventies. Harry thought it more than a little odd that Hooch objected so strongly to Blaise when she had gone through the same ordeal. Sometimes he really couldn't understand people.

The locker room was a loud, boisterous affair with enough foul language to make a hardened sailor blush. The conversation mostly centered around "pussy" and just how much everyone was getting. Having absolutely nothing to contribute to such a discussion, Harry left his bragging teammates and headed for the showers. Near the end of Harry's shower a boy Harry remembered as Ernie McMillan started to come in but abruptly turned right back out. He didn't think anything of it until he left the showers and returned to the locker room. Ron and Ernie were shouting as the other players eagerly watched. Several of them nudged each other, noticing Harry was present.

"I don't fucking care!" yelled Ron. "If you have such a fucking problem with it, you can shower with Blaise in the girls' locker room."

"I'm not the only one who feels this way," said Ernie as he stomped off.

"What's going on?" Harry asked loudly, though he already had a pretty good idea. He should have known. Why had he been stupid enough to think it wouldn't matter?

Ron started at seeing Harry. "Nothing. Ernie's just being a jerk."

"Look, Ron, I can just-"

"No! Don't even say it. He's just going to have to fucking deal." Ron looked around at everyone trying to pretend they weren't listening. "And that goes for everyone else, as well."

Harry sighed, feeling the euphoria of the day fade away.

"Don't let it get to you," said Justin, coming up beside Harry and punching him in the shoulder. "Ernie will get over himself. Like anyone wants to look at his pimply ass."

Well, at least not everyone was bothered by his sexuality. It was a start.

Once they were dressed, Harry and Ron went to Ron's house so they could watch his interview on the evening news. Harry loved the Weasley home, brimming with life and activity. Everything was so cozy and homey; a far cry from the cold, sterile environment of the Dursleys or the doom and gloom of Grimmauld Place. This was how a home was supposed to be.

While waiting for the sports section to begin, Harry went to use the bathroom. On his return, he passed through the dining room where Ginny sat at a computer in the corner, excitedly typing away with her friend Luna Lovegood. He nearly stumbled when he heard Ginny say, "Danny's blue...no...azure...no...cerulean orbs rested on Kenickie's engorged manhood. How's that?"

"No, no," said Luna. "How about...Danny's cerulean orbs-feasted-on Kenickie's engorged manhood?"

Ginny squealed as her fingers quickly moved across the keyboard. "Oh! Feasted! That is so good! You're a genius, Luna!"

"What are you guys writing?" Harry asked with wide eyes. He was soon sorry he asked.

Ginny and Luna looked at each other. A sly grin crept up on Ginny's face.

"Shall we?" she asked.

Luna nodded and Harry promptly found himself being forced into Ginny's chair.

"Read this," said Ginny, hanging over Harry's shoulder. "We want your expert opinion."

"What is it?"

"Just read it!"

Harry's eyebrows rose higher and higher as he read a very graphic story about two boys named Danny and Kenickie doing incredibly foul things to each other in a '57 Chevy. By the end he was blushing as red as a fire engine.

"Hey! Wait a minute. Danny and Kenickie, aren't they the guys from Grease? This never happened in the movie! Why are you writing about stuff that never happened?"

"Oh, it happened," assured Luna. "Off-screen."

"So what did you think?" asked Ginny, solemnly. "Overall?"

Harry shrugged, really not knowing what to say. He looked for some means of escape but Ginny and Luna leaned in, trapping him in the chair. "Well, umm, you use manhood a lot. I don't think a bunch of greasers in the sixties would say manhood. "

"Cock?"

"Yes, cock."

"Hmmm, we'll consider it," said Ginny. "Did we at least get the sexual mechanics right?"

"I don't know! I've never done anything. I know just as much about it as you guys." Harry considered what he just read. "Less, actually. But that bit with the diesel and crowbar. Seems to me like it would just really fucking hurt. Plus, I don't think it's even physically possible."
"I thought that part was a little over the top. Time to edit, Luna."

"But I liked that scene," said Luna, worried. "We can't cut it!"

Harry slowly backed away. They looked like such innocent girls. Who knew they could be so perverted? He winced, thinking once more about that crowbar.

"Hurry up, everyone!" Ron shouted from the living room. "I'm on."

There was a veritable stampede as all in-residence Weasleys rushed to living room.

"Oh! My baby!" cooed Mrs. Weasley, clasping her hands to her chest as a sweaty and dirty Ron appeared on the TV, hamming it up to the cameras.

"Move a little to left, dear," said Mr. Weasley, from behind a camcorder. "You're blocking the screen."

"Why doesn't he just record it on the VCR?" Harry asked Ron in a whisper.

"That's how Dad is with his toys. He bought that a few days so he can tape Bill's wedding. He's been recording everything possible. Oh!" Ron cut himself off, letting out a sound that sounded suspiciously like a hiss.

An image of Blaise being interviewed was on the TV. He grabbed the remote of the coffee table and shut the TV off in a snit.

"I don't want to see that," Ron said testily.

Now that Ron's fifteen minutes of fame were over, he and Harry decided to go to the Three Broomsticks. Ginny whined until Ron agreed to take her and Luna along. There, they met up with several members of the team. As expected, all that anyone wanted to talk about was that afternoon's practice and how they might get Blaise to quit.

Harry left the rather mind-numbing discussion when he saw Terry Boot loitering in the arcade section with a tall, yellow-haired girl in glasses. He had been trying to call Terry on the phone all week but he never seemed able to reach him. Since Harry had been keeping the phone line busy talking to Draco, he just assumed he had missed Terry's return calls.

"Hey, Terry," said Harry, smiling as he approached. "I tried calling you. Is everything okay with your family?"

"Huh?" Terry asked. He looked around nervously.

"Your family emergency," Harry prompted. "Remember?"

"Oh, Terry!" exclaimed the girl. "You didn't tell me about that!"

"It was nothing. Everything's okay now." Terry turned to the girl. "Can you give me a minute, Lisa?"

Lisa looked inquiringly at Harry, then nodded and walked away.

"So that's Lisa? She's pretty."

"Yeah...Ummm, Harry, I really can't stay. We were just about to go."

"Oh, okay. I just wanted to know when you wanted to hold our film fest. I can't this week, because I have to work but I've got-"

"About that," interrupted Terry, biting his lip and staring down at the floor. "I can't do it. I'll be pretty busy these next few weeks and with school starting soon there's just no time. I'm sorry, Harry. I really am."

He gave Harry a distressed look and hesitantly turned away.

Harry watched him leave, feeling very much taken aback. Terry had just completely and totally blown him off. There was no mistaking it; he had experienced it too many times in the past. No time? Too busy? That was complete bullshit. Terry just didn't want to do it. What had changed this last week? Harry had thought they'd gotten along quite well on their fake date. He guessed not. One thing was clear though; Terry was no longer interested in being his friend.

This, he could not lay on Dudley's doorstep. He had always kind of assumed that without Dudley around bullying everyone away from him, that he might have had a few friends back in Surrey. Apparently that was not the case. It must have been him all along. Really. Dudley wasn't that terrifying, now that Harry thought about it. Not terrifying at all. No one had wanted to be his friend because they all knew he was some lame and pathetic fag who wasn't worth their time.

It would be no different here. No different at all. Sure, he had Ron but would they have even been friends if Sirius hadn't pushed them together? No. Their paths wouldn't have even crossed. And whatever it was he had with Draco? That wouldn't last. How could it? Draco was cute, rich, and probably popular. And Harry was a sad little four-eyed geek with an ugly scar on his forehead. Draco would see him for what he was and find someone better.

The noisy, crowded arcade suddenly felt very oppressive and Harry felt a sudden urge to leave. He waded through the throng of teens, going to the nearest exit, only stopping to ask Luna to tell Ron that he was taking a walk and would get himself home.

He walked and walked until the bright lights of downtown Hogsmeade faded into the darker and quieter residential streets. Harry was a little lost, not completely familiar with the area yet, but he didn't quite care at this point. He had no particular destination in mind but when he reached the high school and saw Godric's Hollow in the distance, he knew that's where he wanted to go.

Ten minutes later Harry stood at the front door and just as before it opened right up for him. He was going to have to fix the locks when-if he got Godric's Hollow back. He hated the idea of anyone breaking in, especially because his parents' things were still there. It felt very cool inside, which was quite strange considering it was hot and humid outside. He chalked it up to just another oddity of an old house. Grimmauld Place was like that sometimes. Some rooms were warm, others cool.

The sun hung low on the horizon and it would be dark soon. Harry wasted no time. He wanted to see the rest of the house while he still could. He went up the stairs and found five large bedrooms and three bathrooms. He explored every room before coming upon the nursery. James Potter must have been a Bears fan as the room was decorated with the teams' colors and mascot. In the small crib there was a knitted Bears baby blanket and a small stuffed football. Harry draped the blanket around him in a shawl-like fashion to ward off a bit of the chill and went back downstairs.

He thought he had seen everything on the lower level but just to be sure, he retraced his steps from his last visit. Harry was in the kitchen, just about to turn back, when he saw a previously unnoticed hallway. He thought it just led to the back door but on closer inspection he saw there was yet another room. He opened the doors without hesitation.

Blood. Lots and lots of blood. Dark, aged blood splattered across the walls.

Harry fell into the room with a stagger.

So this was where they were murdered, Harry thought with a surreal serenity.

Harry thought he ought to scream. Or cry, maybe. But he just stood there, looking at the walls with a detached sort of interest. He felt a sudden calm, peripherally aware that he should be, in fact, breaking into hysterics. A peculiar soothing coldness washed over him and seemed to intensify with each passing second. It was like being stroked by finger-like icicles. The bracing cold resolved Harry and he dropped the blanket to the floor.

He went to the nearest wall and swept a hand across it. This was the closest he would ever get in touching any part of his parents, Harry thought, morbidly, as he palmed every reachable inch of the bloodied walls. When he was finished he sat crossed legged in the middle of the floor. With a quick roll of the head he had a 360-degree view of the entire room.

Harry wondered how there could be so much blood. He hadn't thought it possible that the human body could bleed like this. But then, this was not just the blood of one but of three; his father, mother and that Riddle guy. All mixed together in an almost artistic design.

The patterns began to blur into a swirling mass of brown and white as Harry tried to fight the threatening tears. The battle was lost before it began and a low, guttural howl jerked out of his body with a most violent force.

He rolled to his side and gathered the baby blanket under his face in a makeshift pillow. It did little to muffle the sobs echoing through the dark, abandoned house. It wasn't long before he felt the icicles again, moving up and down his back; arctic in strength but as comforting as a warm caress, lulling Harry into a deep slumber.

Harry hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep until he woke up. He rubbed tiredly at his face, finding it gross and sticky with dried tears and snot. He thought he had only slept for a few minutes but a glance at his watch revealed that it was nearing one in morning.

Fuck.

Sirius had never given him a set curfew, but he knew if he didn't get home soon, he'd probably be in trouble. He took a final, miserable glance around the room and shuddered. Just don't look at it, Harry told himself as he closed his eyes and stumbled, blindly, to the door. He slammed the French doors shut and ran out of the house. Harry didn't stop running until he reached a pay phone at a convenience store, and he called a cab.

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He wasn't surprised to find Sirius waiting for him. His godfather was lying on a couch in the parlor, watching TV in the darkened room. Severus was asleep and awkwardly curled up on top of him, gently snoring away as Sirius idly trailed a finger up and down his large nose.

"There you are," whispered Sirius. "I was about to send a search party after you."

"Lost track of time," Harry mumbled quietly.

"Just give me a call and let me know if you're going to be out late next time."

Harry nodded and stared at him. He wondered if Sirius knew about the bloody room. He hadn't seemed very troubled when Harry mentioned he had gone there while Sirius was in jail. Wouldn't have Sirius reacted a bit stronger if he knew about it?

"I went to Godric's Hollow tonight," Harry blurted out.

"You really shouldn't go there," Sirius said with a frown.

"Why?" tested Harry.

"Well, technically, you're trespassing and if you get caught it might cause some problems. We don't want to do anything to hurt your case. You should stay away until everything's settled."

"Have you been inside? Like recently?"

"I went up there about a week before I brought you home. I tried to get inside but couldn't. Did manage to break into the garage and steal James' Firebolt for you." Sirius grinned. "We'll keep that little fact to ourselves. Legally, it belongs to Shane Potter since when he bought the house he got everything that went with it. But I don't think he'll miss the bike."

No. Sirius definitely didn't know. And Harry wasn't about to tell him. In spite of everything, Harry wanted to go back and he figured Sirius would forbid it if he knew.

As tired as he was, sleep did not come easily to Harry. In fact, it did not come at all. By the time daylight broke, Harry was still awake, engulfed entirely in his blankets, desperately trying to avoid thinking about his parents' grisly murder.

Thoughts of the bloody room niggled away at him, though, and Harry surrendered to his curiosity. All he knew were the vague details that Sirius had given him. He wanted-needed-to know more.

He tried to ask Sirius about it over breakfast but the man was quite evasive; uncomfortable with the topic. After much pestering Sirius finally gave in, but he ended up telling Harry the same things he had told him before. Harry noticed Severus listening to Sirius' explanation with more than a little scorn. He plainly had something he wanted to say but he was holding back his tongue.

Harry eventually cornered Severus alone in the kitchen after lunch.

"I know you know something," Harry told him. "Something about my parents' murder. And I want to know what it is."

Severus wouldn't look at him, heavily engrossed in chewing on the tip of a toothpick. He seemed to be engaged in some internal debate. Unfortunately, just Harry thought he would capitulate, Sirius walked by the doorway, breaking Severus' reverie.

"Damn delusional fool," Severus murmured with a shake of his head. He turned impassive black eyes to Harry and he knew that Severus had changed his mind. He wasn't going to tell him a thing. "Best to let sleeping dogs lie, boy. No good can come from answers you seek."

Harry wanted to scream in frustration. He had a right to know and he'd be damned if he didn't get some answers. He wouldn't ask Sirius about it again. In his quest for information, he had forgotten that he wasn't the only one who had lost James and Lily Potter. It was visibly painful for Sirius to talk about the murders and Harry didn't want to cause him any preventable pain. Severus, on the other hand, was less emotionally invested. He'd find out what Severus knew. He'd work on him until Severus broke and sang like a canary. He just needed to do it when Sirius wasn't around.

In the meanwhile, Harry's last resort was Remus Lupin. He questioned Remus at work on Monday but the lawyer proved to be more oblique about it than Sirius, if that was even possible.

"You should talk to Sirius about it," was all Remus would say on the matter.

Predictably, Draco stopped by the firm during Harry's lunch break. Harry knew this moment would come and had already prepared his excuse. It was with a heavy heart that Harry told Draco that he was sorry, but Shacklebolt needed him to work through his lunch hour.

He felt a lingering sadness long after Draco had left, and he tried keep himself busy with filing. It was better this way. Harry was certain their relationship, if you could call it that, was doomed for failure. Dragging things out would only make it worse when the end came. He would just have to get used to being alone, again. He had been his entire life. So why did the idea burn so much now?

Sirius, Severus and Snuffles all came by to pick Harry up that afternoon. Sirius was in an uncommonly good mood. The reason for his cheer revealed itself when they arrived home and Severus pulled a big bag of dog food out of the bed of the truck, along with several other items that unmistakably belonged to a dog.

"Is Snuffles coming to live with us?" asked Harry.

"Yep!"

"You wish, Black. It's only until I get back."

"We'll see about that!' said Sirius, with a conniving smile on his face.

"Until you get back? Are you leaving?"

"He's flying to Texas to see his precious daddy for a few days," answered Sirius, casting a sad look in Severus' direction. "But he'll be back, Friday afternoon."

Harry was feeling a bit sad himself. He couldn't harass Severus into talking, if he wasn't around to be harassed.

Severus had an exceedingly long list of directions for Snuffles that he went over several times. He appeared to have grave doubts about Sirius' ability to care for the animal.

"Maybe I should just take him with me," mused Severus. "I could drive. If I left now I'd make it to Tex-"

"He'll be fucking fine!" Sirius rolled his eyes. "Just go or you'll miss your damn plane."

And Severus did go, but only after extracting strict promises from Harry and Sirius that they would adhere to his every rule. Snuffles settled by the front door, expecting Severus to return at any moment. After a few hours Sirius was finally able to coax him away with a big bone.

That evening Harry declined an invitation from Ron to go out and when Draco called, Harry instructed Sirius to tell Draco that he was not home.

"What's going on?" asked Sirius when he returned to the study where Harry was watching his parents' wedding again. "Having problems with Draco?"

"No, things just didn't work out," said Harry.

"Does Draco know that things didn't work out? He seemed eager to talk to you."

Harry shrugged, hoping Sirius would drop it.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not especially."

"Well...I'll be right here if you change your mind." Sirius hesitantly returned to his desk. He had been there all night, first filling out a series of forms then pounding away on an ancient typewriter. He refused to tell Harry what he was working on, claiming that doing so might jinx him.

Harry left Sirius to his task, and, went up to his room after the final reel ended. He sat on his bed and played with the silver dragon Draco had given him. Many a night saw Harry in a similar position, caressing the smooth scales as he talked, contentedly, with Draco on the phone. There was no contentment now; just a feeling of forlorn resignation.

The dragon had obviously meant a great deal to Draco and Harry knew he didn't deserve to have it since they wouldn't be seeing each other anymore. He found an old shoebox and carefully packed the dragon away so that it would not get damaged. He'd give it to Draco when he came to the law firm tomorrow.

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AN: Well, looks like Draco's plan backfired. Opps! Or did it? Find out in the next chapter!

Also, some people have asked me to email them when I update. I am far to lazy to collect email addresses but if you have a account you can add me to your author alert and it will send you an email when I post a new chapter. Or you can keep an eye on my LJ at: Add me to your f-list if you like, I don't bite. Though you will also be spammed with my pathetic RL ramblings.

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