A/N: Yeah so I wasn't lying about the upload schedule (of which there is none). Either way, I've got a rough plan of where we're heading. Stormy seas ahead. This time around I've been too scared to go through the reviews, but the ones I did see we're better than either lambastions of my work or high praise. If you're exicited about this uncharted territory we sail into, great! So am I!

I probably haven't stated it thus far, but this will obviously diverge from the main storyline. BUT, include most of the same assest that JK penned originally.

Also, I'd only Harry's and Sirius's POV will be included. I mean, untill I change my mind, god knows with my chaotic mind.

Here we go, FINALLY!

...

The Many Sides of Honesty

The instant Sirius left the room, Remus slumped slightly and set about making tea with a few flicks of his wand. Harry watched this all curiously, he hadn't seen much of Remus since the Ministry. "Tired Moony?"

Remus gave a grimacing nod and took what looked like a fortifying sip of tea before replying. "Nightwork in the muggle world is not ideal for one's sleep schedule."

He thought over the admission. It gave him more of an idea about the man's situation, he had admitted to him it was hard to find work because of what he was. But working in the muggle world was something he hadn't expected. He felt a spike of pity of the man, Remus had some skill, and yet it was wasted because of stupid laws and stupid old men. Said faceless stupid old men became the target of a surging of anger, but his current frustration was not one-dimentional. Ever since Sirius's offhand comment about duelling, he'd been looking forward to learning a thing or two from his ex-defence professor. Something other than creatures that is. He was eager to start.

"Will you be alright?" He asked probingly.

Remus gave a small smile. "I'll be fine. My condition grants me a higher level of constitution than a normal wizard." He took a long sip then peered at him. "Maybe not you, as you are not a normal wizard. Not many teens could throw the Torture Curse around as a distraction." Remus took another long pull on his tea and the silence extended further. "I should thank you for your help though. Even if it does make me wonder about your motivations."

Harry stared at what was left of his breakfast as the question rolled around in his head. "I suppose… I was just angry."

A weight suddenly fell upon the conversation as Remus pushed his half-drunk tea away. "Understandable. But what did the other Deatheaters do to deserve your fury?"

He almost took Remus to task for such a stupid question before realising the question asked, was not the one actually spoken. "I… I just can't sit there and watch it happen, or run. And I can take them."

Remus nodded, granting him his point. "So that is why you risk your parent's sacrifice? Shouldn't your efforts be directed towards their killer instead?"

"Well I would but…" His mind replayed the epic battle witnessed in the Atrium, and how insignificant it made him feel.

"You can't take him?" Remus asked shrewdly.

He couldn't help but clench his jaw at his 'Honorary Uncle's' point, a new determination to improve his skills rose inside him. "No." He ground out.

"You are fifteen Harry, no one, except the sheep, truly believes you will get rid of him."

He wished that was true. Only the Prophecy kept his hopes in check, It could only have been the rambling of a batty old lady. But someone listened, that was why his life was in the shit. "I have to though. The prophecy we fought over contained the whole thing, it all boils down to one of us killing the other."

The eyes of the man adjacent to him hardened and he fell silent again for quite some time. He fully expected the man to make his excuses and leave, to save himself from the struggle which lay ahead.

"I see." Was Remus's initial answer. "So you want to survive."

"I want to stop others from suffering." He amended hurriedly. Like I did.

"I can understand that Harry. I also wish to prevent the suffering of others, although it is usually from the hands of myself, rather than some external force." He finished grimly before refilling and reheating his tea with a few flicks of his wand. With that done he continued while Harry paid rapt attention. "Being bitten so young ruined what life I would have had, I want to kill the… thing that bit me to save others from him."

Harry's next question had stark implications for himself, as well as Remus. "What will you do after he's dead?"

Remus leant back. "I'm not sure. I'll find something fulfilling to do. And hopefully be there for you, more than I currently have" He finished with a sour look upon his features."

"You're there when it counts." Corrected Harry with a small smile upon his face.

Remus looked to struggle with his composure for a second or two before replying. "I'm surprised you even give me the time of day, considering I've attacked you before."

"You weren't yourself." He snapped. He couldn't let the man blame himself for something that was not his fault. After all, he'd been the connection to his parent's before Sirius literally bounded into his life.

Remus's eyes filled with more visible emotion, swallowing hard. "Thank you Harry. But you must promise me something."

"Okay…"

"Think of the after. You have a great opportunity to become your best self. Your life will not end after the defeat of Voldemort like mine will."

"But-"

Remus cut him off. "No Harry, it's true. I will not be able to have a family, you must. If it's one wish I have, it is to be 'Uncle Moony' to your children. Do that for me."

The intense self-loathing that rolled off the man in front of him struck a chord within himself. He would have a family, and he was now determined that Remus would be a part of it. To kick him out of his self-loathing ways and drag him into the future with himself and Sirius.

And Hermione.

He blinked. That addition to his future struck him by surprise. Sure, she was his closest friend but she would also be there in the future without Voldemort. Most likely, reading beside him, in a place that reminded him of the Gryffindor Common Room. The image formed in his mind clearly and he found he liked it. It looked comfortable. Simple.

He reconnected the world around and formulated his reply, driven by his new image of the future. "Sure. But you have to help me get there, help me learn to fight, and fight with me."

The weariness seemed to fade from the man like oil from water. "Then let us train."

Normally one would rise and get straight into it after saying something so rousing. Instead, they settled into a companionable silence each consumed by their own thoughts. Harry's own mind was a whirl with how to become what he desired, the ultimate weapon. He wanted to scare the Deatheaters shitless, he wanted his appearance to change the tide of battle, to induce evil doers to give up, or in. Of course his main target would not be sovafraid, Voldemort held himself in far too much esteem to be afraid of a teenager. Outwardly at least. It was surprise, that gave away the Dark Lord's fear of him, as evidenced by his reaction to the connection in the graveyard.

He didn't even look surprised to see Dumbledore arrive in the Atrium to save his sorry arse, while at the same time he'd complimented him on his power and potential. He would make Voldemort's choice to let him live a serious mistake. He would see his potential met, and Remus and Sirius would help him along the way. Then he and Hermione would work together during his months at Hogwarts, improving beyond their classmates. THAT was now his goal, he couldn't give two shits about the fickle world he was a part of. He would do this for himself, and those he cared about.

As long as I don't kill anymore of those I care about. The toxic thought was pushed aside in the face of his excitement.

Eventually they descended to the Cellar which Remus initially ooh'd and ahh'd at, considering its size compared to the floorplan of the house itself. After contemplating it for a minute, he had to agree, it was perhaps roughly double the size of an entire floor of the house. Something he hadn't cared to notice before. It was surely enough to store enough liquor to fuel Hagrid's drinking habits, for a decade at least.

While Remus glossed over certain spells that dealt with one's underpants. His most intriguing teachings were along the lines of enchanting areas of the cellar to react in various ways when others touched them. While the Marauder's had initially used such spells to give them plausible deniability when enacting pranks. With some tweaking, he learnt they could be used for much more deadly effect, either taking off a leg or sticking it to the ground.

While they went over using the plethora of related spells, Remus would on occasion tell a story of how they used it for a prank. Usually charming someone else's fork in the Great Hall to amusing effect. While they went over numerous different spells and applications, he really only only saw use for the modified Sticking Charm, the Exploding Curse and the Human Reveal Charm. The rest he ignored as soon as he got the hang of them. The Wedgy Jinx for example, might not work on Voldemort as he wasn't entirely sure he even wore underpants.

He brought this up to his instructor and bore witness to the first laugh he'd ever seen from him. Remus almost always kept up a gentle and understanding demeanour, and while he could be detached sometimes, Harry could relate to the man. After their prolonged chuckle, Remus checked his watch - a battered old thing - and announced it was time for lunch.

Despite mourning the loss of training time, he agreed. It was the promise that they would cross wands afterwards that induced him to not skip the meal entirely.

Barely an hour later, they stood opposite each other, their only company the stillness of the cellar air. Remus's body was much in line with his wand that was pointed at the teen across from him. Harry meanwhile, favoured an angled stance, his wand at head height and to the right of his body.

When he gave a nod, Remus's wand burst with red light from a stunner that rocketed at him. Expecting this, Harry slashed his wand diagonally downwards to deflect it. Almost immediately he brought his right foot forward and brought his wand back up, replying with the same spell. 'Expelliarmus' was for the past.

Remus shielded, leaving Harry to pepper it with further spells. Until he caught sight of what his 'Honorary Uncle' was doing. Just in time, he broke off to deal with a multitude of red balls that were conjured and banished in his direction.

Not having the experience to Transfigure the cloud of what looks like red rubber balls. He opted for trying something he hadn't previously. He evened his stance and slashed his wand again, "Finite!" His spell affected the balls that would have touched him and didn't affect the rest which hit the wall behind him.

Not seeing Remus's raised eyebrow, he figured he would try the same trick. A concentrated flick of his wand created a brick wall which he then hardened just in time as spells crashed into it. Knowing he had little time, he intoned a spell he'd only heard once. "Serpensortia." He said and waved his wand wider than Draco had in their second year. Knowing he had barely ten seconds until his wall would be reduced to rubble, he spoke to his apriritions: "Stay still." He then disillusioned them and gave them their orders: "Bind his legs."

With his plan in motion, he dispelled his wall and dodged a curse that would have destroyed it otherwise and went on the offensive. His wand spat many different colours as he forced his opponent onto the defensive. Just as Remus started, - No doubt due to the feeling of invisible snakes climbing up his legs - Harry stepped forward and found his foot stuck to the floor. In the blink of an eye, Remus evaporated the snakes and disarmed him as he went to undo the enchantment.

As his wand went flying out of his hand, he let out a sigh. He had lost. He tried to keep positive, but losing was annoying at the least. Fuck.

Remus unstuck his foot with a wave and looked at him, impressed, - to his own annoyance. "Not half bad Harry, I didn't expect you to outright cancel the transfiguration. The wall was a nice idea, but you couldn't see what I'm doing."

"And I fell into your trap." He replied with a grimace.

Remus waved his hand. "If I didn't have my stronger senses, your own trap would have worked. It shows ingenuity. I will say, if you're going to cancel the magic instead of changing it. You'll need to put a bit more power into it."

He glanced behind him at the few balls that were scattered on the floor. "Sure."

"It would also help to find spells that are difficult to block, rather than using unforgivables. To increase your arsenal."

He shrugged. "Until I find new ones. They're all I have."

Remus frowned at him but found defiance that met his gaze. "If you have to use them, make sure no one else finds out you're using them."

The request seemed pointless to him. "So what? I'm the weapon. They're scum."

"Because it matters, one, because I don't want you straying down that path to find power. And two, because it matters what the public thinks of you, you'll need as many to join our cause as possible. And they won't if they think you'll just become a replacement to Voldemort, using Dark Curses constantly."

He couldn't help but bristle with indignation. "But that just handicaps me!"

"Only against the best that the dark forces have to offer. If it's Bellatrix, Voldemort or Fenrir Greyback." Remus's jaw hardened at the last name but his tone was conciliatory. "We fought against his inner circle in the Ministry, Harry. The other cattle he recruits isn't worth that sort of effort, Sure you can get better, but you're easily enough for most of the fight's you'll get into."

Harry worked his jaw at this but remained silent. He would just keep researching for more powerful spells, it seemed no one else had the stones to go after Voldemort. So it would be up to him anyway. "Alright."

With the matter settled, Remus gestured with his wand. "Again?"

He stooped to pick up his wand from the ground nearby. "Sure."

...

So engrossed was he with his training, he never noticed Hermione's reply that lay on his dresser until he went to shower and change before dinner. Although the blame could hardly rest on his shoulders, so unused to furniture in a bedroom as he was. No doubt he never had enough possessions to fill all of the various storage paraphernalia he currently had. His school uniform made up at least 50% of his clothing, the rest were Charity Shop clothing he'd accrued over the years.

It left him looking less like a street urchin, the trade off was that he never felt like himself when wearing them. Sure, he picked them out and bought them. But in the end, he was wearing someone else's unwanted clothing. It neatly fit into the narrative that he himself was unwanted in the Dursley household. It never made him feel any better that before Hogwarts and his own money, he had to scavenge the clothes from out of the donation bins themselves.

The guilt manifested itself in the few times he actually bought from the shop, one he'd gone to since he was eight, merely a twenty minute stroll from his neighbourhood. He never accepted change and always tried to slip in a bit extra in the transaction. Ethel, the old lady who ran the shop, was quite fond of him. Most likely because of never hearing the rumours about his criminality from the Dursleys due to distance from the neighbourhood.

It seemed like his coming outing with Sirius would include some shopping as well. He snorted at the Headlines his imagination conjured: 'Boy-Who-Shops' and 'Harry Potter, Alive and Shopping.'

With a start, he remembered the letter and quickly ripped it open to read her reply.

Harry

I've already started looking up some of the spells I mentioned in my previous letter. Most of them are NEWT Level and beyond, but when has that stopped us before?

On a brighter note, how's living with Sirius? Surely it is a madhouse! I know you have to train but try not to overdo it please. Training for the Tournament was enough lost sleep for both you and myself. But when you do, start with some on the list I've attached. Undoing enchantments is really important and 'Finite' doesn't work on everything.

I'd love to come to Diagon Alley with you, I'll just need an exact date and time for Mum and Dad. Would I be ok if they joined us? I haven't asked them yet, but I can tell they are getting nervous about what's going on and may want to accompany us.

Should be fun though!

Love

Hermione

He couldn't hold in the snort at her quip about the complexity of the spells she'd attached. It made him think of the Patronus Charm, Remus had constantly voiced to him that it was a very difficult spell. Yet he himself had taught it successfully to many of the D.A. In his opinion, if you told someone it would be hard, they would find it hard. While he'd told them initially it was a difficult spell, he'd never said it was above their level. Maybe that was why so many picked it up? Or were they all just as powerful as he was?

Another part of his recent multi-faceted realisation, was coming to terms with who he was. For someone who had been taught to fit in, to be normal, and to fail at it at every turn, had always been a struggle to deal with. To be told he would be great, or that he would be powerful was particularly uncomfortable because he'd entered the Magical World looking to find a peer group. A place where he could be himself, to find his version of normality that didn't belong in the Muggle World.

His first year came to mind:

"You'll be a great wizard, I know it." Said Hermione earnestly from her position next to an unconscious Ron.

He dodged the compliment and obvious confidence in him. "Not as great as you."

Her look screamed of disbelief, yet she smiled at him shyly. "Me? Books and Cleverness? There are things that are much more important. Like friendship, and Bravery and… Harry, just be careful."

He simply nodded at her, knowing she wasn't going to be convinced otherwise. In fact he wished he was like her, to achieve what she had through purely her own means. Study and diligence, her drive was unlike anyone he had ever met. She would be the great one, that much he was sure of.

He'd squared his shoulders and continued on. Where he would find more evidence to support his belief that others were far greater than him. His mother's sacrifice that would protect him from Voldemort-Quirrell was an example.

As he returned to the present, he looked upon his younger self with some regret. If he knew what he knew now, he could be greater than he was now. More capable, more powerful, more befitting of a title that he hadn't earned, but had shaped his life nonetheless.

If anything, the memory highlighted just how special his friends are. And one of them, his link to normalcy, was dead. The now familiar wash of guilt overcame him for a moment, so familiar, he ignored it and rummaged around for the supplies to send a reply. At that moment, Hedwig soared through the window and landed upon his shoulder, seemingly peering at his letter. The instant she saw who the letter was addressed to, she gave a happy screech and settled herself upon his shoulder more resolutely.

He didn't bother to move her, it hadn't been the first time she'd done this after all.

Sirius appeared upon the top step with practised ease and entered his 'home'. Kreacher appeared before him, as usual to 'welcome him home' but the ancient elf stumbled, mumbling his insulting greeting before disappearing again. He didn't think much of it as he didn't really care for the demented elf. The portrait of his mother however had something to say about it. "It's about time you behead him o' wretched son of mine."

Given that this interaction was different from the usual ones, he replied. "I don't care, he can die in his cupboard for all I care."

"You spit in the face of centuries of tradition!" She shrieked.

Feeling much like the rebellious teenager of his youth he rolled his eyes. "The tradition that left your most hated son the only remaining heir?" He didn't deign to listen to her spluttering and strode into the kitchen to find Dobby preparing dinner and Remus sitting at the table, reading a heavy looking tome.

"Light reading?" He quipped as he joined his friend at the table.

Remus gave a wry smile. "I've been drafted."

"Drafted eh?" Sirius normally would have had a quip ready. But he had no clue what his friend was talking about.

"I would have said I was returning to my Professorship, but I feel more like a brother-in-arms." He then held up a book titled: 'Neutralizing Nasty Magic' for him to see. "I've been directed to look into counters."

"Doesn't sound like something Harry would come up with." Observed Sirius.

"I agree." Replied Remus as he jotted something on the parchment beside him.

Sirius smirked. "A certain lady friend of our Pronglet?"

At that point, Dobby cut in, half concentrating upon something upon the stove. "Master bes writing Miss Grangy every night."

He couldn't hold in the great bark of laughter that escaped him. "Ah ha! Well that settles that."

Remus smiled and placed his note-taking - including a muggle pen - aside and peered at him. "What did you get up to Padfoot?"

Sirius knew that type of question. Whenever the Marauders referred to each other with their nicknames, it usually meant the questioner was suspicious of the questionee. In response, he spread his arms wide trying to look as innocent as possible. An almost impossible task. "Went and saw the scourge of our first-year exploits, she'll be here tomorrow night to verify his whereabouts. During the day, we go shopping." He could feel himself bouncing in his seat at the thought of their outing, something he should have done with Harry a long time ago.

Remus observed him with amusement before turning serious. "Even with Voldemort running around?"

He waved this away. "He'll be fine, I'll be there, and I'll let 'melia know about our plans." He then noticed his friend's frown. "You're welcome to join us Remus, you know that."

Remus leant back, slightly abashed. "I know, and I will. Do you mind if I stay until then?"

He couldn't help exhale in amusement and frustration. "Bloody hell Remus, you can stay as long as you bloody-well like. At least you'll be closer to the Order meetings that way."

Remus merely nodded.

"We're killing two Billywigs with one spell." Continued Sirius. "The old man reckons that the public should see Harry for themselves, and the boy really needs some decent clothes."

"We should keep the crowd away quite well." Remus observed cynically. "With an ex-convict and a Werewolf at his side."

Upon hearing the self-deprecation, he involuntarily glared at his friend. He and James had constantly worked to rid Remus of his self-loathing ways, and had succeeded to a degree. It seemed in his absence his friend had slipped into his old ways. In a way he was similar to his godson, only Remus vocalised it, Harry seldom did. "My animal magnetism will overcome all!" He proclaimed loudly.

It drew a small smile from Remus. "Mmhmm. Perhaps we should ask him if there's anywhere in particular he wants to visit on our little... jaunt."

"Fair point. I-"

At that moment, Harry appeared in the doorway. His face was blank as usual, but it was also relaxed. "Jaunt? You called it?"

"Harry!" Sirius greeted in his usual excitable way. "What did you and Remus get up to while I was away?"

Harry shrugged, then sat opposite himself. "Not much different than normal. At least now I know how you pulled off some of those pranks you mentioned."

Remus's smile was joined by a snort and comment from Sirius. "I'm glad you've picked up a thing or two from us old ones. Did you get a chance to show Remus what you've been learning?"

"Yeah." He deflected, busying himself with finishing a cup of tea that Dobby had levitated over to him.

SIrius gave an exaggerated, and sarcastically annoyed sigh. "Remus?"

"He did quite well, considering the limiting factors in our duel. And that it was most likely the first time he'd ever dueled in that way?" He peered towards Harry who blushed slightly and nodded. "I certainly didn't expect some of the things that came my way. It would have been a pleasure to still be teaching you at Hogwarts Harry."

While Harry averted his eyes in favour of sipping his tea. Sirius's curiosity was aroused. "What sort of things?" He asked Remus.

His friend instead looked at his godson. "Harry?"

He looked a little uncomfortable but nevertheless, fished his wand from his sleeve and muttered an incantation Sirius couldn't hear. In a small flash, a two foot long snake landed on the table and hissed at those present. He couldn't keep in the gasp of shock from having a dangerous looking snake appear out of thin air onto his table. The snake calmed as his godson started hissing at it and it slithered over to his hot tea and wrapped itself around it, observing them all imperiously.

Sirius then felt something heavy crawling up his leg and nearly jumped out of his skin in shock. Skating backward on the chair and looking down to find a second snake wrapping itself around his leg. When his godson began hissing again, it climbed his body onto the table where it flicked him with its tail before joining the second, basking in the warmth of Harry's tea.

He only controlled his shock after Remus began openly chuckling at him. "I think you've been pranked, old friend."

He shuffled his chair back to its original position and began to laugh, with the shock ebbing away. "I see, who won?"

"I did." Remus replied, while watching Harry interact with his conjured snakes. "When he learns more counters, I doubt I'll be able to keep up."

"And more offensive spells." Harry added, his attention pulled from his companions, and his shyness gone.

"I was going to bring that up actually." Began Sirius. "Using unforgivables worked in that situation, but I'd prefer you not to rely on them to overcome defenses."

Harry muttered another spell and the snakes disappeared. "I know, they don't work properly for me anyway. If they did, Bellatrix would be dead."

Silence reigned in the kitchen until Dobby levitated a rich smelling dinner in front of each occupant. Sirius spent the time wondering how to deal with his confession. While it seemed Harry knew using them constantly was not feasible, it made him wonder if when he lost control, what he would do to his enemies. While the public knew Voldemort was back, if the Boy-Who-Lived started throwing those sorts of spells around, he might turn the public against him.

While he normally wouldn't have cared, there were many who thought the boy would turn out to be another Dark Lord to rival his mortal enemy. It was a fine line, he had to make sure his godson didn't fall to the Dark to achieve his ends and lose himself along the way. It made his mission to get to know the boy more important than ever, it was actually a godsend that Remus was here. He'd spent a year with the boy that he himself hadn't, and he needed the experience on hand.

Harry's fingers staggered over the Piano's keys, hitting the wrong note more often than not. He didn't care though, so occupied was his mind.

It sure was nice to be around people that had known his parents. But it was awkward, that much he knew. The dynamic of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place was entirely alien to him. Indeed, it might have been alien to many people, to live with both a guardian and family friend who treated you equally. He could tell Sirius held back as to not coddle him. But there seemed to be an unspoken understanding that he'd been looking after himself for the longest time, and didn't need anyone to mother him.

Others would have called it denial, but to him, it was the way he lived. The way he survived. From the first time he'd tried to find comfort in Aunt Petunia's embrace, and was ignored, he knew he would only have himself. Over the years, a shell had grown around him, hardening with each year of life. It protected him from the influence of others, and his own weakness. In short, he'd adapted.

When he was introduced to the world he would inevitably become a big part of, it was something of a renaissance for a boy that had suffered in silence for so long. He'd gazed around in wonder, as he was finally free of the Dursley's. And then came the attention, the scrutiny. Was he equal to people he had no recollection of? Was he worthy of the parents that had made the ultimate sacrifice and saved the world at the same time? Even now, he wasn't sure of the answer.

What he did know was that Sirius and Remus were now comrades in his struggle. It was heartening to know that Remus loathed himself in the same way he did, and that Sirius fought with his guilt over abandoning Harry all those years ago. It may have been overly maudlin to contemplate, but he still didn't see a future beyond Voldemort, despite his epiphany. Three broken men was a far better sacrifice for the greater good than whole souls.

And yet, a whole soul was already dead, by his own hand no less.

He allowed the waves of guilt and self-loathing to wash over him again, he deserved it.

His thoughts turned to Hermione, wherever she was, he hoped that she was safe. He did miss her, despite himself, their reconciliation made him miss her more. He needed some of his normality to return, and she was a big part of that.

At least he would get to see her tomorrow, on their trip to Diagon Alley. The three of them had discussed the plan for the day. There wasn't much in the way of protection from the Order, partly because they hadn't told Dumbledore anything, combined with the fact that most members had their own day jobs. If you counted whatever Mundungus Fletcher did, as a job.

The amusing thing was that Mundungus would probably be the closest Order member on hand if anything happened. Not that they ever thought he would actually do anything anyway. Nor were they planning on visiting Knockturn Alley at any point.

The rough plan was to meet the Grangers at the Leaky Cauldron, 'parade' Harry around Diagon while picking up things that they wanted. They would then follow the Granger's into the Muggle world to shop for clothes and whatever else. And after seeing Sirius's curious looks at the Muggle pen Remus liked to use, he was curious about how his godfather would react to the Muggle world.

Despite their plan, and his excitement to see Hermione again. He was also rather nervous at the same time due to her parents accompanying them. While some would say that they merely wanted to get to know their daughter's world better, he felt it was more the fact that they didn't trust him to keep her safe.

And that would make more sense. He thought scathingly. I haven't done too well so far.

If he was honest with himself, he was also nervous because he really wanted them to like him. They seemed so normal and caring towards Hermione, it made him at least slightly jealous. As much as he wanted them to like him, he had no idea about how to go about it.

He slumped slightly, it was a lost cause either way. Maybe he would settle for not aggravating the situation further, at least that was the plan. People either seemed to hate him or worship him at the drop of hat.

That train of thought took him back to fourth year and the start of his fifth. A time where his Four-Poster-Bed was his new cupboard. Where he curled up in a ball to sleep, not because he was cold, because it made him feel safer. Where he walked the halls of Hogwarts while developing a sixth-sense for spells sent his way when he wasn't taking shortcuts to avoid as many people as possible.

The D.A. had meant more to him that even he realised at the time. It curbed his loneliness in a superficial way, but it gave him confidence. It also made him realise that his 'Adventures' were not just a source of regret and pain, they were something to learn from. He was actually good at something, despite his misgivings. He'd grown closer to Hermione that year as well, all their time spent planning lessons with Ron's occasional input.

He actually understood her love of the Library, but nothing would beat going flying. Even crossing wands with another gave him a jolt of adrenaline that he'd slowly become addicted to against his volition.

At least tomorrow would be fun, a chance to see his best friend again, a chance to get out and about. Despite the inevitable stares of the public, the hero-worshipping children and the generally annoyingly bright spotlight upon his life. The old man had suggested it, and his word was gospel. Hopefully with that, plus Madame Bones's visit to verify that the boy that went shopping was in fact, the real deal…

They won't think I'm missing anymore… not that I actully give a fuck either way.

That was probably the only thing about his situation that was different this summer. He used to hate the thought of innocents being struck down, he would step in front of a stranger to take a curse.

Not any longer.

He'd been a part of the Magical World for roughly six years, and one thing he noticed was the inaction of the people. While sheep were found in the Muggle World as well of course, the Wizarding World should be better than that. In his opinion at least. They had MAGICAL POWERS, for god's sake! His own powers were his lifeline, his ticket to a life he could shape. They gave him confidence.

Yet the public wallowed in their own weakness, content to follow the powerful, no matter how depraved that person was.

His fingers ceased their dance as he came to his conclusion: They didn't matter, the people he cared about did. It wasn't a drastic shift in opinion, but he realised he was allowed to be angry, to be selfish.

It increased his chances of surviving.

At least until he died, most likely at the hand of Voldemort if he remained as weak as he was currently.

His new resolution allowed him to sleep well. Well, as well as one could when nightmares stymied what restful slumber he tried to get.

The Next Day

The Leaky Cauldron certainly hadn't changed. In fact, he wondered if it had changed at all in the last century. Considering the look of those that seemed to constantly inhabit the place, he assumed it hadn't. Surely, even after millennia without any inhabitants, the place would still reek of what he assumed was magical tobacco. At least he hoped so, god knows what any of the smoke actually came from. The only smell he was sure of was that of the Floo in the huge fireplace that hid in the corner of the room.

At least the walk was nice. Sirius, supported by Harry, overcame Remus's misgivings about walking from Grimmauld Place to Diagon Alley. The bustle of London was quite a sight to a boy that had barely left the house. Even Sirius glanced around eagerly, blending in remarkably well as a morning-tourist. Of course they kept an eye out for Deatheaters but their heightened awareness went unneeded during their journey.

They even stopped at a bustling coffee-shop for a traveller, an experience Harry enjoyed immensely due to the normality of the whole thing. Remus and he handled the transaction while Sirius stood guard outside, flirting with the occasional muggle.

It was an upbeat group of three that waited at a battered looking table for the Grangers, pointedly ignoring the other customers of the decrepit establishment. He mostly watched the door, for it didn't stare back and Hermione would walk through it eventually.

When they finally did, he didn't react immediately.

She was different.

Maybe it was the fact that he almost always saw her in at least a jumper during the school year. Even while not in uniform, it was usually cold enough to warrant extra layers. So her sudden appearance stupefied him, or more the fact with how much skin was on display. He'd never seen her in a tank-top before. It spoke volumes to a sixteen year old boy.

It was almost like seeing a different person, yet, it wasn't at the same time.

He drank it in.

The small amount of freckles that adorned her face extended to her chest. He'd never known. It didn't even strike him as odd that such a sight would surprise him. She looked incredible. She also looked tiny in clothes that clung to her figure, as opposed to the somewhat bulky uniform. Her hair was as bushy as normal, serving to remind him that this was still the girl he'd known since he was eleven.

His previous annoyance of the warmer weather of the season evaporated. If summer allowed him to see sights such as this, he didn't care as much how disreputable his own summer wardrobe was.

In the blink of an eye, she was hugging him as tightly as he'd come to expect from her. He didn't even realise he was standing. Now suddenly nervous about the closer contact than he used to be, he returned the hug gingerly, overly aware of the bareness of her shoulders. The smell of her hair was unidentifiable, yet intoxicating at the same time.

Despite his nervousness, he slipped into his persona. A grin preceded his reply. "Hey, excited?"

She broke the hug and beamed at him. "It's not every day we get to go shopping together."

"What's Hogsmeade? Chopped liver?" His impertinent reply earned him a cheeky slap on the arm.

Her father stepping forward drew his attention. "I would hope my daughter isn't in the habit of casually assaulting others." They shook.

He grinned at the thought of her decking Malfoy. "Only those that deserve it."

Mrs. Granger joined her husband's side. "Do I want to know that story?"

He shrugged in reply. "I mean, it was brilliant." The girl in question blushed from beside Remus.

Mrs. Granger raised an eyebrow and they shook. "If we are all going shopping together, we should be on first-name terms. Call me Helen." She glanced pointedly at the man beside her.

"Richard." He supplied quickly.

"Err, Harry then." Was his reply.

Just as he did, Sirius stepped forward with a flourish. "Sirius Black m'lady, sir."

"It's like I've gone back in time." Observed Helen dryly. "No need for a second introduction though Sirius."

His godfather merely grinned, one that matched Richards - Though he suspected the reasons for each differed - and led them through the pub into the back alley. He then tapped the brick wall with his wand and they all waited expectantly.

Nothing happened.

"Well," Sirius tapped his wand against his chin. "Looks like she's broken."

He couldn't help but peer at the wall closely, hoping that Dobby wasn't having another fit of 'Saving Harry Potter sir's life'. A feminene snort drew his attention to Hermione who stepped past him, brushing against his body in the close confines. "Are you sure you tapped the right bricks?" She inquired.

As she turned to his godfather, he caught sight of the smirk that rarely lit up her face.

He caught on to what she was doing. Together they could prank the prankster. "I mean, you were in Azkaban for a LONG time. No one will blame you for being a bit forgetful in your old age." Remus chortled behind them.

"Oi!" Was Sirius's only reply before Hermione pushed him to the side and drew her wand with a flourish. He couldn't help but remember how she had acted similarly in their first Charms class, he couldn't contain the smile, it was a fond memory.

So distracted was he, that he missed her opening the entrance. Only catching sight of the last of the brickwork rearranging themselves into the arch before they entered the Alley proper. The sight that greeted them was indicative of the public's mood. It was by no means empty, but families and groups hurried purposefully from shop to shop. A pair of Aurors strode past them towards Knockturn Alley, their gazes sliding past the group much to his relief.

After a quick and uneventful detour to Gringotts, - which raised more questions than their visit had time for - they descended the stairs and started towards Fred and George's new shop at the opposite end of the Alley from the bank. After some prodding as to why, he admitted to giving them his Triwizard winnings which led to them buying the premises.

Sirius looked beyond delighted as he spotted the garishly decorated shop in the distance. Even from this distance, they could see how packed the shop was.

Hermione then turned to him. A smile lighting up her features. "Good call Harry."

He shrugged. "Better them than-" Before he could finish his sentence, three dark smoky shapes flew past them back towards the way they came. All rational thought fled him as the shapes flew straight into Ollivander's, causing an explosion.

He started running immediately, ignoring the shouts of Sirius and caught up just as three Deatheaters - led by Fenrir Greyback - exited. One held Ollivander by the scruff of his robes, a hessian hood over the wandmaker's head. The Werewolf snarled at him, then his eyes widened as Harry threw an - recently learnt- Entrail-Expelling curse at him.

Fenrir side-stepped the curse nonchalantly and raised his wand to counter before a curse sailed past Harry towards him sent by Remus. In the blink of an eye, the five of them dueled in the narrow confines of the Alley. The public that had been in the alley either ran towards the Leaky Cauldron, or sought shelter in the closet shop.

The Deatheater's were clearly in a bind. The enchantments on Diagon Alley prevented apparition, and if the one with the Wandmaker tried to fly away, he would be vulnerable to spells from the ground. They had to get past the two adults and teen to make their escape.

He had no clue where Hermione and her parents were but he hoped they were safe. But he had no time to think of them as lethal spells shot from the cloaked ones, towards them. Given that the Deatheater's were outnumbered, he sent the occasional mild Jinx at the one holding their captive. Fenrir was a whirlwind, taking on Harry and Remus using his enhanced agility to great effect. Remus had a similar advantage but was fighting with restraint, no doubt half protecting Harry.

The stalemate continued until he grew frustrated. His talk with Sirius led him to steer clear of the Unforgivables. Instead, he used curses that he'd found in the Black Library. They could still be blocked or shielded, and while nasty, they didn't hold the same stigma as the notorious three.

As a familiar twisting green spell whizzed past him, he made his decision. Breaking off from the fight for a moment, he gathered what little practise he had with advanced Transfiguration and lifted a number of the cobblestones from the ground and with a supreme effort of concentration, sent them hurtling towards the cloaked ones. Just as they made contact, the ones directed at Greyback exploded into fine dust that filled the narrow confines.

The silence in the blinding air was punctuated by a rustling sound and a woosh that left the air swirling. As the dust cleared, Fenrir and Ollivander were gone, his companions looked like beaten sacks of potatoes sprawled upon the ground. Far too late, the pair of Aurors arrived on the scene and the three of them were asked to holster their wands.

Harry stared blankly at the crumpled bodies. Wondering if killing had become easy for him, as he felt nothing at their demise.

The void was suddenly replaced by worry and his eyes searched the Alley behind him. Where was Hermione?

Just as he did, she stepped out from an alcove, accompanied by a shaken Helen and Richard, and he released the breath he didn't realise he'd been holding. Ignoring the order to stay, he went to them. Hermione practically jumped onto him and clung on, but his eyes were for her parents. "I'm uh, really sorry about that." His hand jumped to his hair involuntarily. "Wrong place, wrong time I suppose. I'm glad you're both unharmed."

Helens eyes narrowed at his words, but she didn't reply. Richard however, did. "Looks like you got the bad guys either way."

She released her hold on him, giving him space to reply. "Almost." His jaw worked at that, frustrated that they succeeded in kidnapping the eccentric Wandmaker. Though what Voldemort would even want with him, he had no idea. "One got away."

He looked back towards the scene of the skirmish and found more Auror's had arrived. A small, ever increasing crowd gathered around them.

Richard peered towards the group of crimson-robed Auror's. "I thought Diagon Alley was a major magical…" He waved his hands, trying to find the right word. "Centre. Wouldn't there be more-" He glanced at Hermione. "Auror's?" She nodded in reply. "Auror's around?"

He shrugged but Hermione answered for him. "It's Fudge, because of him, the Department couldn't train any more Auror's. The new Minister changed that, but there won't be any new Auror's for some time."

Richard snorted. "Where worlds collide; politics." Both Hermione and Helen rolled their eyes at his impromptu philosophy.

A severe female voice interrupted them. "No doubt." She then turned to him. "Mister Potter?"

He nodded.

She then addressed them all. "My name is Amelia Bones, Head-"

Hermione finished her sentence in a rush of obvious excitement. "of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement." She then blushed at her faux pas, drawing a snort from Harry.

Amelia took it all in stride with a raised eye-brow, reminding him of a certain Transfiguration professor. "Indeed." She then turned to him. "Your godfather might have been imprisoned unjustly, but he is still the Sirius Black I knew from Hogwarts. He claims the two deceased Deatheaters are both his own and Remus Lupin's work, yet both refuse to submit a memory of the event to me. Why?"

He shrugged. "They ARE two of the Marauders."

She sized him up. "Whatever Harry Potter does in self-defence won't land him in any hot water. I fear that Sirius believes that I now believe in rules rather than what is right. I need some information on how they operate to help train my Auror Corps. Will you submit your memory?"

A magical flare of light lit them both up for a moment as he thought over it. It made sense, but he wasn't sure why Sirius and Remus were trying to protect him. He didn't care what the public thought. In fact, fuck them for running. We actually could have saved him if one or two stayed.

"Sure." Was his reply and she withdrew her wand and a small vial with a stopper. With the quick education and transfer of memory completed, she bade them good day and the group made to rejoin their companions before the crowd converged on him.

His blood pressure rose at the rudeness of them all. No doubt he was about to be judged upon his conduct. The question of; Why didn't Harry Potter save the day? Would be dissected and discussed. The noise rose and questions were shouted at him, eerily similar to the stampede in the Ministry after 'that night'.

The night of his failure.

One question was heard by all, including himself. Someone he couldn't see shouted: "What do you think about the response-time of the Aurors that were On-Duty?"

"I think it's nothing compared to the cowards that ran from only three Deatheaters." He snapped in reply.

The crowd fell silent. Only the odd flare of light punctuated it.

His voice rose over the crowd, seemingly captivating them all. "Twenty people nearby to help, even if they only used one spell each. Ollivander would still be here. You'd think some would feel obliged to help a man that gave most of us a way to perform magic." He added sarcastically.

"Not everyone is you!" A stout wizard called.

"I'M NOT EVEN SIXTEEN!" He shouted back longing to give the fickle world a piece of his mind. "Not even six years of knowing I could do magic, and yet I'M THE CHOSEN ONE? You all make me sick! Why should I even care about a world that took away my parents? That imprisoned my godfather for no reason? That would spread lies about me and insult my friends! Why should I risk my life for those that won't raise a wand to save themselves? Auror's can't be everywhere all the time, SAVE YOUR FUCKING SELVES!"

Breathing heavily, he grabbed Hermione's hand and pushed through the crowd, Helan and Richard in tow. They rejoined his honourable uncles who stared at him in muted shock. "Let's skip to the normal shopping we had planned?"

Sirius recovered first, simply cleaning his dusty clothes with a wave of his wand. "I don't see why not. Richard? Helen?"

They agreed and made their way out the way they'd came, without visiting a single magical shop.

Leaving a stupified crowd in their wake.

...

Shopping in the 'less dramatic part of town', as Richard had dubbed it, went by smoothly. Well as smoothly as one could hope when Sirius Black was involved. Despite the many questions, and flirting with every store attendant he laid eyes on, Harry and Hermione had a blast.

It was an observation shared by the girl in question's parents, who found it odd that the teens had taken everything in stride so quickly. You wouldn't be able to tell that the boy that accompanied them had killed two men mere hours ago.

"They're a special pair." Sirius remarked as they watched Hermione coach him through shopping for jeans. The adults had long given up and deferred to her experience an hour ago, she had known him longer than anyone else after all.

Richard nodded, but Helen's mind was elsewhere. "What do you know of his home life? Before Hogwarts?" She asked.

Sirius cringed internally. "Not much to tell the truth, I'd only ever met Petunia once. And he's a cagey one, whether that's because he's shy, or something more I don't know."

"Hermione seems to think he's been abused, at the least malnourished. She would mention how thin he looked upon his return each September. Why?"

He almost baulked at bringing up that topic. "I'd rather not get into why, and concentrate on what we can do now."

"It makes sense." Robert cut in. "I wouldn't say he's shy either, the way he went at the crowd in the Alley."

Helen waved a dainty hand. "Whatever it means, he's not a healthy teenager."

"I know." Sirius sighed. "If James and Lily were around, he wouldn't be the same."

She rounded on him, taking him by surprise. "It's sad, yes, but that's not the point. He needs a parental figure in his life."

He watched the teens for a while before replying. "I'd say it's too late, I mean, I was in prison instead of with him." He didn't add that he thought Remus was the far better choice to guide Harry. He was always the more level-headed one of the group. Deep down Sirius knew that the only reason he was the godfather, was that he was around, Remus being a Werewolf didn't make any difference. Not to James.

Helen shared a look with Richard. "He's sixteen, no matter who he is, it's not too late."

Sirius watched as the teens argued over Harry's apparent love of wearing only black. "You're right. Though I'll have to seek some advice of my own."

Helen gave a rare smile. "We're invested in the boy, we'll be there. Our Hermione won't have it any other way."

Sirius smirked at the pained look upon Richard's face. "I did get the feeling she would follow him to the ends of the earth, even at thirteen."

Richard coughed. "On that note, I think I'll talk to Remus." Helen sent a familiar-looking exasperated look at her husband as he moved over to Remus who was near the front of the store, keeping guard.

"Thank you." Sirius said mournfully as her attention returned to him. "Our world isn't the safest, nor happiest place right now. And you both have been incredibly patient and open-minded."

She turned away to watch the teens once more. "When we made the decision to send her away. We made peace with the fact that we couldn't protect her any longer, we're just happy that she found someone that will. She didn't have any close friends growing up, at least here, she's found some."

Sirius snorted. "Jealousy exists everywhere, being close to our world's biggest celebrity, and also being known as the brightest witch of her generation will attract it unfortunately."

Her eyes widened. "That's how she's known in your world? We knew she was bright, but that is different."

He smirked as an old memory was triggered. "Behind any successful man is a great woman. Or that's what Lily used to say."

Helen chuckled quietly. "Exactly."

With their clothes shopping done, Harry asked that they visit Surrey, much to the consternation of the rest. But with plenty of time before Amelia was meant to drop by, they agreed and travelled there by side-along apparition. Given Harry hadn't told them where they were going, they all followed his purposeful steps that led them into the small shopping heart of the area.

They arrived at a small second-hand clothes shop and he entered immediately, asking them to wait outside. Of course Hermione ignored his request and followed him in, leaving the adults outside.

It wasn't apparent why they stopped there until he caught sight of a very familiar jacket on a hanger near the window. It was the same jacket he wore the night they saved him. A spike of rage went through his heart as he realised Harry had been buying and returning second-hand clothes as he grew out of them.

How long has he been doing this?

He saw his godson converse with an old lady behind the counter and both looked happy at meeting again. Hermione stood to one side, wearing a look of surprise. He glanced at the Grangers and Remus, the ex-professor seemed to have recognised the jacket as well and wore a sad look upon his face.

He couldn't bring himself to enlighten her parents, he felt far too guilty already as it was.

...