Seeker and Neville found Sirius Black sitting on the worn hospital couch in his room, boot-clad feet propped up on the small coffee table. His eyes were closed, and it looked as if he had dozed off. A several-weeks-old copy of Seeker Weekly was splayed across his chest.
"I suppose we should have arrived on time." said Seeker, quietly.
"We're twenty minutes early," Neville retorted.
"You should know, Heir Longbottom," said another voice, from behind them. "That time moves at its own speed in Saint Mungo's." Turning, they saw Lord Hillyer leaning against the doorway.
Seeker greeted the Potter Proxy. "Lord Hillyer, thank you again for your help with my Godfather."
Hillyer returned the handshake, still smiling. "My family owes Lord Black a debt that can't be paid. I was happy to help. Just wish I could have done something sooner."
"He did get me a private room," said the patient, looking up from his nap. "Usually, that means I don't have crowds wandering in." Sirius tried to sound annoyed, but the grin he was sporting ruined the effect. "Hey, pup."
Seeker grinned right back. "Hey, Padfoot." He nodded at the quidditch magazine. "Keeping up on world events?"
"It beats the Prophet, and don't tell me it doesn't." Sirius stood, now, waving the group in and offering them seats around the small table. Lord Hillyer walked over, but Neville lingered by the door.
"Harry, this is going to be about your family, right?" Off Harry's nod, he continued. "Then I'll be downstairs with Gran." Harry did not need to ask Neville who was staying downstairs - he knew that the long-term care ward was there. Frank and Alice Longbottom had been residents on the ward since the days after that Halloween in 1981.
Harry offered his hand. "Thanks again for bringing me along, Nev."
Neville took the hand in a firm grasp - worlds different from the shy boy Harry had met on the train. "Anytime, Harry. Come find us when you're done." With another nod, Neville was gone. Harry walked over to the chairs, where Sirius was describing one of the trainee healers to Lord Hillyer. Harry sat back and listened, even as Sirius quickly changed the subject when his godson arrived.
The banter between the two men was light and friendly, and Harry could hear some of the history there. Hillyer was a few years older than his father, but had considered James Potter a close friend and ally. Clearly, they had gotten along well enough for Sirius to know him as well. Harry found himself curious about the debt that Hillyer had mentioned, but didn't know how to bring it up - and did not want to be the one to sour the mood.
After a while, Sirius changed the subject. "So, Harry, how has your summer gone?"
Seeker shrugged. "It's been good. Neville and Ron both let me spend a few weeks at their houses, though Mrs. Weasley made me help with chores. But it was fun - much better than a normal holiday in Surrey."
Hillyer leaned forward. "And your relatives?"
Seeker looked at Lord Hillyer curiously. "They have pretty much left me alone, which is fine by me." His expression darkened a bit. "Even if they are sticking with therapy, I don't want to give them any excuses to go back to the way things were."
Sirius muttered something and sipped his tea. "I still think the DMLE should go after them."
"And they still might," said a new voice from the doorway. Harry turned and saw Robert Fitzpatrick enter the hospital room, wearing his trademark muggle suit.
Handshakes were exchanged, and more tea fetched and served, before Fitzpatrick was seated. Sirius asked what Fitzpatrick had meant by his earlier comment, a question Harry had wanted answered as well.
"Director Bones and the DMLE are compiling evidence for a child abuse case against the Dursleys." he began. "But the case is being held indefinitely, so long as there are no further incidents and no further reports from either of the minor children in the home. All three of the Dursleys are seeing a Saint Mungo's trained and certified mind healer, and that mind healer is consulting with a squib counterpart trained in the equivalent muggle discipline." Fitzpatrick eyed Harry before continuing. "If there are no more incidents, then when you come of age the case goes away."
"And if they do do something?" Sirius asked, a thin layer of menace in his voice.
Fitzpatrick met his gaze. "In that case, aurors will show up alongside my response team, and off the Dursleys go to Azkaban." He smiled coldly. "They are essentially on probation - their last chance, so to speak. Not that they need to be told that, of course."
The discussion continued, mainly in an effort to talk Sirius out of visiting the Dursleys upon his release. Harry chuckled at his godfather's increasingly desperate attempts to justify the visit, especially when he promised to keep his assault down to minor jinxes and hexes. Eventually, Harry steered the topic back to what he really wanted to know.
"So if I'm hearing this correctly, I'm expected to stay with the Dursleys until I come of age." Without thinking, his eyes darted over to Sirius, whose expression clearly showed his dislike for the idea. "What happens if someone becomes my guardian before that?"
Hillyer laughed. "Someone like your godfather, perhaps?"
Harry grinned in turn - the man's laugh was contagious. "Maybe?"
Sirius had not laughed at the idea, or with his friend - his eyes were fixed on Harry. "Pup, I'm still getting my life back together, and the healers are still salvaging what they can. And even with the Dursleys getting themselves some help as well, you still have friends who can keep you over the holidays." He looked like he wanted to continue, but Harry's hard look stopped him.
"My Lord Black," He said, less to be formal and more to shake the man loose - he needed him listening. "I could list a few families who would happily host me over the summers, and perhaps over the yule holidays as well. But none of them are family." He held up a hand at Sirius' response, before he could speak. His eyes met those of his godfather, and he thought back to Chaser's description of his Uncle Padfoot.
He thought about learning to fly with Prongs and Padfoot at his side. He thought about snowball fights and hide-and-seek with a grim. He thought about the idea of having an adult cheering him on from the quidditch stands. He thought about his tiny hands grabbing black fur as he rode his unca pa'foo around the living room, and about the red haired woman standing in the doorway, shaking her head - unable to keep the smile off of her face. Quietly, he continued.
"Padfoot, haven't they taken enough time from us?" Harry said, looking his godfather in the eye. "I'm never going to be alone, never. And if this isn't something you're comfortable with, I won't force it on you. But I want you to be my guardian, in law and in fact." He smiled, his expression softening. "The job's yours, if you want it."
Sirius stared back at his godson. His mouth opened, as if to respond, before closing. Presently, he sighed. "You're sure about this?"
Harry nodded. "Never been more sure."
Sirius nodded back. "What if I screw it up?"
Harry snorted. "I've got ten galleons that says you won't." That got a chuckle from Lord Hillyer, which brought part of a smile back to Sirius. Harry could see when he made the decision, and fought off the urge to cheer.
"Under those terms, then, how can I refuse?" Sirius stood up. "I'll be there for you, pup." Harry stood as well, giving his godfather a bone crushing hug.
"Merlin, Harry, good thing we're in a bloody hospital!" Sirius responded, laughing.
Once they were all seated again, Harry turned to Fitzpatrick. "So, how do we do this?"
Fitzpatrick took that one. "I've been looking into the paperwork declaring the Dursleys your guardians, and preparing our own filings to assign those duties to Lord Black. For the magical side of the issue, we should have no problem - the Ministry will bend over backwards to accommodate you, Sirius, even if it goes against Dumbledore's original grant of custody."
Hillyer leaned forward. "And the muggle world?"
Fitzpatrick patted his briefcase. "Here it's even simpler. Once Sirius has the guardianship through the Ministry, we can get the Dursleys to sign over their rights. And then you're set."
Harry nodded. Something Fitzpatrick had said brought up another question - one that the five had yet to answer. "Mister Fitzpatrick, if you don't mind, sir… why now?"
The solicitor looked over to his young client. "Why now, what?"
"I mean, I was with the Dursleys for ten years, before I learned anything about the magical world, or even about my past. Until then, I thought my parents had been drunks who died in a car accident." He looked up at Fitzpatrick. "Did no one know what had happened to me?"
Sirius kept himself quiet, but clearly wanted to apologize again, even though those 10 years were not his fault, as the court had proven. Harry's eyes were on Fitzpatrick, however, which meant that he noticed the quick glance between the solicitor and the Potter Proxy.
"The short answer is that no, none of us knew that you were being raised in that house, by those people. The wards placed around the property by Headmaster Dumbledore were such that anyone seeking to learn whether you lived there would fail to do so." Fitzpatrick looked pained. "We did search, of course. And to learn now that you were living in one of your own properties is… well, not a little bit troubling."
"Charlus worried about this sort of thing, you know." Hillyer mused. "He wondered if the Death Eaters might start hiding heirs to extort votes in the Wizengamot." He shook his head. "That's part of why I was named as Proxy - kidnapping you would do nothing, because you can't remove me for years, yet. And when Dumbledore swore before the 'gamot that you were safe?" He sighed. "We kept listening for anything that might lead us to you, of course, but could do little."
Harry sighed as well. "I know that things will get better for me, especially now, but part of me will always wish that someone had rescued me sooner." For as strongly as Seeker felt about that, he knew Rose and Marigold had had worse times in Durzkaban, and would have grabbed any chance at escape with both hands. "But, as you say, we have to keep moving forward."
"Good lad," replied Fitzpatrick. The topic moved to some issue before the Wizengamot, and Hillyer and Fitzpatrick quickly lost Harry's attention. He looked over at Sirius, who made a sleepy face again, forcing Harry to stifle his laughter. Then Sirius nodded to the bag Harry had brought with him, grinning when Harry revealed that day's issue of Seeker Weekly.
oOoOoOoOo
The five had a bit of a breakthrough that night, during their conference. Spellforged had managed to talk them into trying one of the simplest Goblin spells he could think of - and Marigold had managed to cast it correctly.
"What do you see?" asked Spellforged, excitedly. Marigold's enthusiasm came through the link, and not just in her voice - it was another sign that the link was beginning to strengthen. Spellforged wondered if they would be able to send memories, or maybe just sounds and images, before long.
Marigold tried to describe what she saw. "It's like there is a mist over my eyes. But I can see my wand, sitting across the bed, and it's glowing green. The door is glowing blue. I can see parts of my desk glowing a light orange." She almost gasped. "Hedwig's window is bright orange! What was that spell?"
Spellforged chuckled. "That, Marigold, was a very simple form of Mage Sight. As we are learning it, this spell lets a goblin detect whether the customer in front of them is wearing glamours or polyjuice or the like, or whether there are active compulsion spells working on them."
"Can it tell which spells are in use?" asked Rose.
"Not really, that gets into more advanced spells for detecting specific things. But if you practice enough, you'll be able to tell a confundus from a compulsion, for example. Take the orange Marigold saw, there is a different orange for the runes in the desk and the runes for Hedwig's window. Over time, you can learn to distinguish things like that."
They heard a gasp from Chaser now, followed by his description of his room. There were many more items he could see, each with their own color, and added to the deep purple of the House Elves at Potter Manor.
"Guess we should get to practicing, eh Rose?" snarked Seeker. Spellforged chuckled when he sensed a huff from the Slytherin.
Once all four of them had gotten the hang of the spell, they took a break and discussed other matters. Seeker, Rose, and Marigold had all had similar meetings with Hillyer, Fitzpatrick, and Sirius. Each Sirius had tried to beg off of taking up guardianship, and each had been convinced by their godchild that this is what they wanted.
"That sounds like Sirius," said Chaser. "He's not jumping in with both feet, but acting his age - a very good sign." Chaser, more than any of the others, had been worried about the long-term effects of Azkaban on his uncle. All five were relieved when he came through the experience mostly intact.
Hillyer and Fitzpatrick both acquitted themselves well, it seemed, and neither did anything to cause concern among the five. Marigold still wanted a better answer than a shrug and a "We tried," but it would do, for now. Hillyer's earlier comment about the regency, that it was held by some sort of council, was never far from their minds when the proxy came up. That he believed they would become a member of this 'council' just added to the list of questions.
A minor could not sit on a magical council, certainly not one holding regency of a major house. But why would their house need a regent's council when they came of age and took the gold ring? Surely they would not take membership on a council that, by the very act of their coming of age, would have no further purpose?
Spellforged had that question written in his little book, underlined twice. Who sat on the council, when (and where!) they met, all were questions that needed answers.
oOoOoOoOo
Spellforged chuckled to himself when he saw his godfather, feet propped up on the coffee table, quidditch magazine splayed across his chest, eyes closed and mouth open. Such was the exciting life of a rehab patient at Saint Mungo's, he supposed. The sight was so much like what the others had described from the day prior as to boggle his mind - the man was nothing if not a creature of habit.
"I heard that," said Sirius, without looking up.
"I thought you might," replied Spellforged. That got Sirius to open his eyes, and brought a grin to the marauder's face.
"Harry! Come in, come in." Sirius stood up, walking toward the door. The man reached out a hand, which Spellforged took in a firm grip before pulling Sirius into a hug. They chatted for a few moments about the healers, the boredom, and Sirius' chances of breaking out.
"I'm betting it'll be after I go back to Hogwarts, Padfoot," said Spellforged. "That's part of why I wanted to stop by today and see you."
"I know, pup. And thank you." Sirius replied, a cloud crossing his features. "If things had gone differently, I'd be taking you to get your supplies instead of making you wander the alley on your own."
Spellforged chuckled at that. "It's definitely an odd time, growing up on the alley part of the year. But do you really think my father would let me go anywhere without two sets of Goblin eyes on me at all times?" He grinned. "I had one trainer who would have his students follow me while glamoured as witches and wizards. He'd pay me a galleon for each one I spotted."
Sirius had to smile at the prank. "Not what James and Lily imagined for your childhood, that's for sure."
"No, I think not." Spellforged leaned forward, sensing what was troubling Sirius. The same problem had troubled his three counterparts, and Seeker, Rose, and Marigold had each reassured him in their own way.
"Sirius, listen to me." Sirius looked up and their eyes met. "Padfoot, I've gotten lucky, in that magic gave me two parents who loved me, a foster mother who brought me into her home and loved me as her own, and a father who took centuries of tradition and precedent and turned them on their heads, all for the love of a child." He smiled, trying his best to sound as reassuring as possible. "And now, magic brings me a Dogfather, someone who can bridge that gap between the family of my birth and the one I've been fortunate enough to find."
"But you don't need old Padfoot, Harry." Sirius responded, sadly. "You've got Anna and Ragnok and the entire Goblin Bloody Nation behind you." He shook his head. "What am I compared to all that?"
Spellforged placed a hand on his godfather's. "You're my sworn godfather. No one can take that away, no one can change that. Especially not you, Sirius Black." He leaned back in his seat, watching Sirius carefully. "Face it, you're stuck with me. James Potter made sure of it. Are you honestly going to tell me that James and Lily didn't know what they were doing when they chose you?"
Sirius laughed. "When you put it like that…"
"Good, it's settled then." Spellforged reached into his bag, pulling out the latest copy of Seeker Weekly (a gesture he would not have thought of, but that he quickly copied from Seeker after hearing his Sirius' reaction). Here, too, Sirius laughed with joy at the fresh reading material.
"Ah ah ah," said Spellforged, waving the magazine at his Godfather. "James and Lily stories first, Lord Black."
Sirius grinned, leaning back on the couch. "Harry, let me tell you about the Marauders…"
A/N: 85 Favorites, 152 Follows, and 93 Reviews. As I've said before, the response to this story amazes me. Thank you all.
I expect to manage three new chapters over the next three weeks, but I have work travel that may interfere, so the schedule will remain "Updates whenever they get posted" for the next month or so.
Feedback, as always, is welcome.
