Harry stepped into the Leaky Cauldron in a burst of green flame and ash, his nostrils flared and his magic itching to be released in the back of his mind. His fingers twitched, the wild currents of his innate power tickling his fingertips.

His entire body shook with unreleased, wild power, and the occupants of the dark, dingey pub had no idea. How many times had he risked losing control of his magic for one reason or another? When he was a small child, of course – but the need for control was so innate and ingrained, it terrified him to even think about letting it slip for a moment.

He stood there, feeling strangely detached from his body as he glanced around at his surroundings. There were the usual off-duty Aurors, and the occasional elderly wizard and witch, slumped at some dark table in a corner, either passed out from the copious amounts of alcohol or hunched over their copy of The Daily Prophet.

At the bar, Tom briefly looked up from where he was wiping the counter-top with a dirty cloth. He'd sat at that bar with Sirius and Remus once or twice, and for a brief moment, he could feel the sticky table-top beneath his fingers.

"Ah, Mister Potter, sir!" Tom grinned, nervously stepping away from the bar. He was thankful that the noise of the pub drowned out the barkeep, though the occasional pair of eyes began to slowly turn in his direction.

"Tom." He replied with a single nod as he stepped away from the Floo, his fists clenched at his side. Behind him, the familiar rush of flame reached his ears and the few loose strands of hair billowed forward as the room was momentarily illuminated by the green flames.

"Tom!" Sirius's voice called from immediately behind him – Harry grimaced at Sirius's hand clamping down on his shoulder.

"Yes, Mi'lord?"

"Is there a private room available?"

The ancient looking man nodded as the Floo released Remus, who quickly flicked the small gatherings of soot from his gambeson before stepping to the other side of Harry, his hand clamping down on his free shoulder like a vice.

Tom stepped out from behind the bar, deftly avoiding his pet Kneazle that was lounging on the floor – in fact, Harry would have thought it a statue if not for the lazy rise and fall of its chest and the single yellow eye that opened at his owners bustling.

As they walked through the pub, weaving around tables and chairs – some empty and others with curious occupants – Harry couldn't help but feel the mounting dread form in the bottom of his stomach. He'd glanced at Sirius and Remus once as they had meandered around a table of three Aurors, and both men had been sternly looking at Tom.

The barkeep stopped by a door that Harry had never noticed before, the brass handle seemingly appearing out of nowhere in the wall beneath the stairs. He nodded to the aged man and opened the door quickly and stepped through, not bothering to wait for Sirius and Remus.

He glanced around the small space, taking in the dusty oak panelled walls, the dark candlestick holders and the grimy looking tables and chairs – the room didn't look like it had received use in a decade, but he knew that to likely be incorrect. Despite the popularity of the pub, and its regular, frequent use, it was always shockingly dirty.

The sound of the door clicking behind him caused his head to turn, watching as Sirius gave a quick flick of his wand before rounding on him, his dark eyes furious – Remus too, looked just as angry as he stood by the door with his arms across his chest.

"I raised you better than that, Harry!" Sirius bellowed, striding across the room as Harry slumped into a chair and stared at the table with narrowed eyes. He couldn't help but note the occasional knots in the long, dull planks.

He said nothing, instead, he simply continued to glare at the wood, idly tracing a knot with a finger on his right hand.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Harry James Potter!" Sirius growled, slamming his hands on the table in front of him. The entire table shook with the force of it, and a small cloud of dust shot into the air in a white cloud. Harry jumped a little, his eyes finally darting up to look at Sirius.

"What do you want me to say?" Harry growled, quickly getting over his shock, that cold fury still coiled tightly in his stomach – his magic whispering to be unleashed in the back of his mind. Once more, he found his skin tingling with barely controlled magic, and the entire room felt suddenly charged with power.

Sirius, either not noticing Harry's struggle, or unafraid that he would come to harm, stood his ground, and continued to glare at him.

"I want you to understand that you just acted like a spoilt, petulant child, and not the boy I raised." Sirius growled. Even through his anger, Harry could sense the unrestrained fury in Sirius – his own magic was roiling just beneath the surface.

"I won't apologise! He said nothing, Sirius – nothing!" Harry snapped, launching himself to his feet as his fists trembled at his side. The desire to break something, to scream and yell burned within him, almost painfully.

"So that's what this was all about?" Remus asked from the door. His face was still contorted in a scowl, and his arms were still folded across his chest, but there seemed to be something different in his voice.

"Of course it is! He…" Harry paused, his voice catching in his throat. "He is supposed to support me – how is he doing that by remaining silent! He knows I won't stand for it."

"That isn't the bloody point, and you know it!" Sirius bellowed as he threw his arms in the air and turned away with a scoff. "I should take you back to Blackwall and confine you to your room until you leave for Hogwarts!"

"Sirius…" Remus began with a sigh as he rubbed his forehead.

"No, don't you Sirius me!" Harry's godfather snapped, pointing a finger at Remus. "Today was supposed to be a treat – I see no reason why he should still receive it."

"I will not stand by when my mother is referred to as fouling my bloodline!" Harry screamed, and for a brief moment, his magic flared, upending every piece of furniture in the room as he stood there breathing heavily. Even as he stood there, looking at the shocked faces at Sirius and Remus, he felt the corners of his eyes take on that familiar blue hue – he clamped his eyes shut.

"He should have said something, but he didn't. She was my mother – I'll not hear a word against her." He said quietly after a moment, his entire body trembling. "She gave her life for me. I owe her everything."

When he opened his eyes, he saw what remained of the room. The table was in pieces, as were the simple chairs and small tables lining the walls. A cloud of dust hung lazily just above the floor, and the candlesticks were so warped, they were barely recognisable.

He found himself stumbling backwards until his back bumped into the wall behind him, and his legs gave out beneath him. He refused to allow any tears to fall – he was stronger than that. He sniffed and leaned his head back against the oak panelling behind him, the knot of his hair at the back of his head offering some small padding.

"Would you have had me say nothing?" Harry asked after a moment. "Say nothing to the man that I thought would always protect me and mine?"

"Harry," Remus began, walking forward slowly. "There was nothing Arcturus could have said in that moment, you have to understand that."

"Of course there was – he could have had him thrown from the estate. Merlin knows I nearly did."

"He could have, yes, but acting in the way you did was unnecessary and little more than a child throwing a temper tantrum." Remus continued, kneeling down before him on the floor. "You know neither of us would stand for Lily being called that either."

Harry glanced up at Sirius, who nodded slowly, though his lips were still pursed, and his arms folded across his chest.

"Did it occur to you that Arcturus is just as adept at politics as he was on the battlefield during the Grindelwald war?" Remus asked, causing Harry to scoff and turn his head to the side as he pulled his left knee to his chest, his right remained stretched out in the dust.

"I won't have you making excuses for him – he should have said something."

"Aye, and if it were either of us, we would have. Arcturus held Lily in high regard, Harry – he wouldn't have let the comment go unanswered, but you didn't allow him the opportunity." Sirius answered, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment.

"You think I wanted to do that?" Harry snapped, frowning. "I… I just acted – I just get so angry, and I can't let it go!"

Harry watching as Sirius and Remus shared a pointed, private look between themselves. After a moment, Sirius turned away, rubbing at his jaw with a wince while Remus chuckled quietly under his breath.

"That would be your parents' temper, Harry." Remus said softly, shifting his weight to his other knee. Harry noticed the cloud of dust was even closer to the floor now, most of it having settled on the dirty wooden floorboards.

"Lily was quick to anger, and James' cold fury – the man could hold a grudge for years." Sirius snickered in spite of his still hot temper. "Lily usually just settled for setting people on fire."

"I don't want to be angry – I mean, I do want to be angry with Arcturus, but I don't at the same time." Harry sighed after a moment, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. His limbs felt like lead, even his eyelids felt heavy.

"We understand that, but you can't act the way you just did – you need to be more mindful of your actions, intended or not." Remus said gently, placing a hand on his knee and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

"You realise that it'll be you who has to set Arcturus's study back to right when we return?" Sirius said, finally placing his hands on his hips as he huffed out a breath.

"Aye – I'll see it done, but I'll not apologise for doing it. It was bad enough he was entertaining a betrothal contract – I'll not apologise for reacting in that way when it comes to my mother."

"I detested mine, so I'm useless in this – this is all you." Sirius grunted, nodding at Remus.

Remus rolled his eyes, and for the briefest of moments, Harry felt the corners of his mouth twitch. "Harry, you must apologise – upending Arcturus's study because you overheard something you dislike is unbecoming of you as the next Lord Potter. We've all raised you better than that, and you know it. Being stubborn like this serves no one."

In a moment of childish stubbornness, Harry folded his arms across his chest and looked away from the two adults. "I don't want to." He murmured.

"It's often the things we don't want to do, that we find ourselves doing." Remus chuckled. "It's easy to forget you're so young sometimes. You'll understand it more when you're older."

There was a heavy silence, the soft ticking of a clock somewhere in the room the only sound to be heard. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, slumped against the wall, but at some point he felt the anger leave him in a great rush, his shoulders, which had been tight with tension, finally drooped and he nodded his head slowly.

"You're right – I'll apologise."

"Good lad." Remus smiled, his moustache twitching as he smiled. He then clapped Harry on the knee before pushing himself to his feet and patted Sirius on the arm as the two of them switched places. He hated it when they teamed up like this.

"You know you're going to have some sort of punishment, don't you?" Sirius said, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Aye." Harry sighed, picking at the edge of his gambeson.

"What do you think is a suitable punishment?"

Harry shrugged, not really able to offer anything. In a few days he'd be leaving for Hogwarts – what could he say? No flying for two or three days? "I'll accept whatever you think is suitable." He said at last, switching his attention from his gambeson to the hilt of his sword the was now angled awkwardly across his chest.

"What do you think, Remus?" Sirius asked, cocking a brow at the other man.

"No books for the next few days would be a good start."

"Excellent – no books until you leave, and no flying either." Sirius said, clapping his hands.

"What about all this?" Harry asked, gesturing to the room around them. A candle fell from the candelabra that hung from the ceiling, it was still swaying back and forth slowly and only a single rope remained intact to keep it attached to the ceiling.

"I think it looks better this way, honestly." Sirius shrugged, a small smirk on his lips.

"I lost control." Harry muttered, staring at the floor.

"You did – but nobody is in control all the time, Harry. You're human, and still a child at that."

He glanced up, looking at the destruction in the room. He knew that many of the pieces of furniture were beyond repair – there was one small table on the right-hand side of the room that had been reduced to splinters under his magic. While he had gained some measure of control over the last year at Hogwarts, it still wasn't enough.

"What if I hurt someone next time?" He asked, blinking up at Sirius and then to Remus. "I don't want to risk hurting anyone."

"You won't." Sirius replied.

"But-" He began, his throat tight.

"You won't."

Harry could only nod as he slowly pushed himself to his feet, swiping at the dust that had gathered on his armour and the trousers he wore beneath the gambeson. He winced as his pats created new clouds of dust and a small cough escaped his lips.

"We'll clean ourselves in the courtyard – no use doing it here." Remus chuckled, waving a hand in front of his face. Harry nodded and straightened his armour and clothes before nodding at the two adults.

Both patted him on the shoulder before leading the way from the room. Once back in the corridor, he noticed the sounds of the pub had returned, and vaguely remembered Sirius quickly waving his wand as they had first entered – no doubt ensuring their privacy.

Eyes followed the three of them, no doubt curious as to why they were covered in so much dust and the change in their demeanours, but Harry couldn't care less. After all, he had thoroughly ruined the day he'd had planned. He was to meet his friends in Diagon Alley, he thought it would be fun to tag along with them in shopping for school supplies – he'd already sorted his own out the previous week.

He stood and waited patiently as Sirius approached Tom, talking quietly over the bar while the other staff went about handing out drinks to the various patrons. One woman, in her mid-twenties, if Harry had to guess, smiled coquettishly at Remus – though he didn't seem to notice.

Tom's face turned red and for a moment he glared at Harry, and he found himself shifting awkwardly from foot to foot under the intense gaze. Harry watched as Sirius snapped his fingers in front of Tom's face, pulling his attention back to him before passing a small pouch over the counter – no doubt to pay for the damages. Harry also suspected it was a great many times more than it would likely cost for those repairs.

Tom nodded eagerly, snatching up the pouch and quickly flicking it open to check its contents. Once satisfied with the amount, he gestured for them to move towards the back of the pub and toward the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Harry frowned, looking between the two adults – he understood cleaning themselves in the courtyard, but neither of them had purchased any Floo Powder. Surely it would have made sense to purchase it now, rather than approach the bar once again?

They stepped into the warm courtyard, the sun high in the sky with not a cloud to be seen, and Harry found himself breathing in the clean air gratefully. While the smells of the Alley and of London as a whole were not overly pleasant, they were far better than the musty smell of the dingey pub.

The quick tingle of magic on his skin caused him to turn and glance at Sirius, who had his wand out and pointed at him. He glanced down and saw the dust removing itself from his armour and clothes – no doubt from his hair also. It was an odd feeling, being cleaned by magic.

Not a moment later, Remus had removed the dust from himself, and Sirius was likewise returned to a presentable state. "Excellent – shall we go shopping then?" Sirius asked, stowing his wand away in the holster on his right arm.

"What? Shopping? I thought we were going back to Blackwall?" Harry asked, confused. He glanced between both Sirius and Remus.

"Well, I suppose the holy trinity of punishments wouldn't be complete without forcing you to suffer through Daphne, Hermione, and Tracey's shopping. Congratulations, you're their bag-boy for the day." Sirius grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as Remus chuckled and tapped at the bricks.

Harry watched as the bricks slowly rolled over one another, and small puffs of brick and mortar dust whispered away in the gentle breeze that drifted through the alley. Already, Harry could smell the various herbs and spices that were for sale on the stalls outside stores, the familiar smell of leather and parchment that wafted up from Flourish and Blotts, and of course, the pungent, waxy smell of broomstick polish.

"I think I'd rather go back to Blackwall." Harry groaned, already imagining all of the bags he would be saddled with throughout the day. "Married life has made you cruel."

Remus guffawed as he led the way into the Alley, the metal of his gorget glinting in the sunlight. Like Remus and Sirius, Harry had forgone his usual cloak, and had settled for simply wearing his gambeson and gorget. He desperately wished that he didn't have to wear his armour every time they left the Manor.

Harry walked between Sirius and Remus as they meandered through the large crowds of people bustling from one side of the street to another in a chaotic throng of bodies, and yet, despite it all, there seemed to be some sort of irrational order to it all.

On his left, the crowd surged constantly forward, weaving around stalls and various witches and wizards that were perusing wears outside the stores. On the right, people walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron with large bags laden with purchases. He spotted cauldrons, robes, herbs, food, and all sorts of other wonderous things.

The first store they passed was Flora and Fauna, the apothecary on the right-hand side. The store always drew his attention first – though that was more due to the large hand pouring ingredients into a large, bubbling cauldron above the door that would occasionally spark and let out a puff of green smoke, rather than what the store sold. As they passed it, he caught sight of all sorts of jars of supplies through the window – there were pickled rats' brains, toad's feet, powdered asphodel and even a large box of shredded pigeon tongues.

He grimaced and kept walking.

On the left, was Eeylops Owl Emporium, where he had found Hedwig. He stopped for a moment, both Sirius and Remus chuckling between themselves as he paused to fuss the birds. They were magnificent creatures, and a small part of his heart would break every time he saw the birds locked in their cages.

He offered his fingers slowly to a beautiful Tawny Owl that sat upon a wooden perch with a small collar around its leg – no doubt to make sure it didn't fly off. It gave a soft hoot and nipped at his fingers gently, at first, then, after a moment, it pushed the side of its head against his extended palm. He grinned, stroking the brown feathers gently.

"I don't think Hedwig would take kindly to you bringing another Owl home, Harry." Sirius chuckled, stepping out the way of a couple that were animatedly chatting amongst themselves.

"She's not mine." Harry chuckled in reply, smiling softly as the bird closed its eyes contentedly. "She's just a pretty bird."

The Owl opened its eyes before nipping his wrist.

"Ow! Alright, a beautiful bird, damn it!" He grimaced, watching as the Owl closed its eyes and was content to be pet.

"What is it with you and animals?" Remus sighed, shaking his head a little as Harry turned to look at him. "There's Clara, who by all rights, fashions herself as Queen of All Birds, and there's Hedwig – Merlin, don't get me started on Hedwig. How does a bird so small have so much attitude?"

"Hedwig isn't a fan of Remus, from what he's told me." Sirius mock-whispered, making no attempt to be subtle.

"It isn't because she doesn't like me – she just assumes my fingers are food." Remus grumbled, causing Harry to laugh. He had never heard any of this and had figured that Hedwig was pleasant with everyone he knew – to imagine her trying to bite Moony's fingers while he attached a letter to her leg was hilarious.

They moved on soon after, content to simply wander for now. Harry had arranged to meet his friends in Diagon Alley, though, in hindsight, they hadn't said where they would meet. There was Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Carkitt Market, Pipet Square, Blacksmith Track, Stokemark Walk, and Canlams Plaza.

They were just passing a shop that sold magical instruments – the various instruments playing a soft tune that carried through the thin glass windows at the front of the store, and out into the street that he could just make out above the buzz of the crowd – when Harry spotted a familiar head of brown hair.

It wasn't frizzy anymore, and indeed, seemed rather tame in comparison to the previous year. Still thick and full of volume, but, instead of sticking out in almost every direction, it fell in loose curls down her back.

He grinned as he spotted her and was about to call her name when she turned to look directly at him – there was no questioning gaze, no confusion. Her eyes locked with his instantly, as if she knew exactly where he was, and for the briefest of moments, he faltered in his step as his magic flared along his skin – beneath his sleeves, he knew his hair was standing on-end. He shook himself and began making his way to his friend.

Hermione, it seemed, had no desire to wait for him to arrive. She took off from the stone steps she had been standing on and ran towards the three of them – distantly, he thought he could hear Sirius snickering behind him.

Hermione was dressed a little differently than she had the entire last school year. In the last year, she had worn thick cardigans, jumpers, jeans, and long skirts – seeing her at the wedding in that long red dress had been a genuine surprise. Now, the thick jumpers and cardigan were gone, instead she raced toward him with a red tartan skirt, knee-high black socks and a light, airy Ravenclaw blue jumper with a white pattern around her neck - over it all, she wore her red lapelled Hogwarts cloak, her large sleeves billowing after her.

"Harry!" She grinned, launching herself at him. He let out a whoosh of air from his lungs and stumbled back a step – in fact, if it weren't for the steadying hands of Remus and Sirius behind him, he was positive he would have ended up on the ground.

He laughed, his earlier wishes to venture out without his armour forgotten as Hermione's arms did their best to crush his ribs. She stepped back from him and grinned up at Sirius and Remus, dipping in a brief curtsey to the both of them.

"Sirius, Remus – it's really good to see you both! How's Amelia? Is she settling into married life? What about you? Is it everything you thought it would be?" She asked, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink as the questions spilled from her mouth.

Sirius chuckled and pulled the girl into a one-armed hug. "It's good to see you too, Hermione, and yes, married life is wonderful – you should try it one day." Harry chuckled as Hermione's cheeks tinged a slightly deeper shade of red.

Hermione's head turned back to him, and before he knew it, she'd grasped his hand and was pulling him towards the entrance of Flourish and Blotts. "Come one, everyone's inside – it's going to start soon!"

"Hermione – wait – damn it, what's about to start?" Harry managed, ignoring the amused sounds of the two adults behind him as Hermione wove him in and around the throng of bodies by the door. All around them, men, women, and children pushed and shoved at each other, jostling for a better position, or straining to look over the shoulders of those in front of them.

He idly noted that the store was full of mostly women and girls, and the men seemed more than a little reluctant to be there, all with bored expressions on their faces, while the women were almost bouncing in excitement. Harry frowned – what was going on?

"Harry!" He heard his name called from further in the store, toward the front. He turned his head toward the noise and grinned as he spotted Neville waving at him – both Tracey and Daphne on either side of him eagerly looking at a nearby desk that was piled high with books. For the first time in his life, he noticed Daphne giggling with Tracey – he vaguely remembered Daphne giggling in the mirror in January, but it was completely different to see it now, in person.

Harry smiled as they reached his friends, and before he knew it, Neville had swept him up in a hug that lifted Harry clear from the floor. "Neville – can't breathe!" He grunted, gasping for breath as he was finally released. "What are you all doing in here?"

Neville pulled a face and glanced at the three girls, all who were now clutching various books to their chests and looking excitedly at the door behind the nearby table. Now that he looked closer, he recognised some of the books from his own school supply trip – the entire booklist for Defence Against the Dark Arts was by someone called Gilderoy Lockhart.

"Lockhart's doing a book-signing in here for a few hours. It's all they've spoken about for the last hour."

"You've been in here for an hour?"

"Hey, we wanted a good spot in the queue!" Tracey piped up. "Oh, hi Harry!" She added, almost as an afterthought.

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed excitedly, her book held in a white-knuckled grip – where she'd picked it up from, he had no idea.

Harry glanced around the store once again, remembering the few chapters of Gadding with Ghouls he'd read in an attempt to read ahead before returning to school – it was awful. At no point during any of the book did it list the spells used, or the wand movements. How were they supposed to learn from them, other than Lockhart's love for hair-care products?

The store was a favourite of his – over the years, he'd spent many an hour perusing the shelves for all manner of things. In fact, he had an entire wall of bookshelves in his bedroom dedicated to all the tomes he'd purchased from the store. It had always felt warm and inviting, the musty smell of parchment and ink a favourite of his, and nothing would please him more than running his fingers along the spines of the thousands of spines on the shelves, their gold-embossed titles glittering in the light.

While the store was generally quite dark, in an effort to preserve the volumes from the sunlight, it was still well lit enough to see the hundreds of books stacked on every available surface. There were towers of books that were twice as tall as Sirius, and some even reached as high as the upper floor. Others were stacked on tables or arranged in the large windows.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Molly and Arthur Weasley and their brood, shuffling in through the door in a large mass of red hair. Harry nudged Neville in the side and pointed toward the new arrivals and snickered. "Don't look now, but the twins just arrived. How long do you think until they get bored and pull something?"

"Fifteen minutes and five Galleons." Neville chuckled, his eyes twinkling in the dim light.

"I'll take that bet – I'm calling twenty."

"Put me down for ten." Daphne said over her shoulder. When she saw Harry's surprised expression, she shrugged her shoulders. "What? You're not as quiet as you think."

Sirius chuckled behind him, and Harry turned his narrowed eyes upon his godfather. "Don't make me get Amelia to put you outside in a kennel tonight, Padfoot."

Sirius's laughter stopped instantly as his own narrowed gaze met Harry's. "You wouldn't dare."

"I wouldn't put it past him at this point." Remus chuckled, leaning casually against a pillar that was holding up the upper floor. "He can be downright Slytherin at times."

"You take that back." Harry pouted, turning his head to look at Remus. "I'm so Gryffindor, I may as well be a Lion Animagus."

"More like a hospital bed." He heard Daphne mutter. He turned to say something, but at that moment Gilderoy Lockhart appeared through the door with a short, irritable-looking man following him with a large black camera.

Lockhart was wizard of average height with blonde, coiffed hair that, to Harry's eye, looked a little too perfect. He wore a suit of forget-me-not blue with a silver waistcoat that tastefully complimented it. He smiled an odd sort of smile at the crowd, and a chorus of breathy sighs answered him – even the girls were sighing and fluttering their eyelashes at him. Harry, a horrified expression on his face, turned and looked at Neville.

"They've all gone mad." Neville shrugged.

"Never underestimate the effect of a charming smile, boys – it'll pay dividends in your futures." Sirius whispered, winking at the two of them as they turned to look at him.

"What in Merlin's name is a charming smile?" Neville asked, completely bewildered.

"See how every pair of eyes is on Lockhart? That's down to that smile he's using." Sirius chuckled, lazily pointing at the author, who was waving slowly to his adoring crowd.

"He looks constipated." Harry muttered, rolling his eyes. Just behind him, Sirius seemed to choke on something – Harry glanced over his shoulder at the noise, but Sirius simply waved him off. Remus, it seemed, was trying to stifle his laughter by covering his mouth with a hand.

The man with the camera roughly pushed his way around the table, almost knocking one poor woman over in his haste. "Move, out of the way – this is for the Daily Prophet."

Harry rolled his eyes at the small man – he had a healthy dislike for that particular newspaper. In the first few years of his life, they had bounced off of the Wards of Blackwall on an almost weekly basis until Arcturus had hit the Prophet with a cease and desist. No less than three reporters had tried sneaking thorough the Wards of Blackwall in the days following – all three having enjoyed and extended stay in Saint Mungo's for their efforts. He had little sympathy for them. They'd all been trying to get a photo of The-Boy-Who-Lived – suddenly, hit with the feeling that it had been a poor idea to enter the store.

Lockhart continued posing for a number of flashes of the camera before his eyes seemed to catch something. Harry followed his gaze and looked to see Sirius shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot behind him.

"Shit." Harry muttered. He hadn't been recognised very often following his scar fading, but if Sirius was recognised, and he was in his company, it usually ended in a headache for the both of them.

"Here we go." Neville muttered with an amused snort.

"Sirius Black?" Lockhart gasped, his eyes immediately darting to Harry. "And Harry Potter?"

Before he could do anything, the reporter had gripped Harry by the shoulder of his gambeson and roughly pulled him forward through the crowd. With his wits returning quickly, Harry flicked his wand into his hand and quickly jabbed it into the throat of the reporter.

"Remove your hand before I remove it for you." Harry growled, watching as the man's eyes widened and the entire store gasped collectively. The reporter's Adam's apple bobbed nervously as he quickly released Harry. "I would suggest treating those around you with more care also – I believe you owe a number of ladies here an apology."

"Yes, Mi'lord. Sorry Mi'lord."

"Don't apologise to me – apologise to them." He replied, nodding to the women at the front of the crowd.

"S-sorry, ladies – won't happen again."

The women, who were all stood with their mouths agape, nodded numbly, though he noticed one little girl, who was clinging to her mother's leg, sticking her tongue out at the reporter. Harry nodded and flicked his wand back into its holster and turned to look at Lockhart – the man blinking owlishly at him.

"Lockhart, if you don't mind-"

"Nonsense, Harry – may I call you Harry?" Lockhart said, snapping back to himself after a moment as he quickly walked around the table, his smile back on his face. He continued before Harry could say anything and wrapped his arm around Harry's shoulders as he turned to address the crowd. Harry was so tightly clamped to Lockhart's side, he couldn't have reached for his wand again if he'd tried.

Harry looked imploringly to Sirius, Remus, and Neville, all who appeared thoroughly amused and weren't leaping to help him in the slightest. The girls, on the other hand, looked positively jealous – why would they be jealous of him being paraded next to this peacock of a wizard?

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Lockhart called loudly. "What an absolutely extraordinary moment this is – we've been blessed to witness the reactions of the vanquisher of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"

Harry rolled his eyes and grimaced as there was a flash of light from the reporter. He glared at the weasel of a man.

"This is the perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time! When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present to him now, free of charge."

The crowd applauded loudly, and he could just hear Sirius's uproarious laughter among the noise. He glared at his godfather, who was leaning against Moony, clutching his stomach and wiping tears from his eyes. Bastard.

"He had no idea, of course, that he would also be getting much, much more than my book, Magical Me. He and his fellow school fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that, this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts!"

The crowd cheered once again, and before he knew it, an entire stack of books were thrust into his stomach – if not for the armour, he'd have likely had the wind knocked out of him from the force of it all, and he blinked as a number of flashes went off throughout the room.

Lockhart released him after a moment, and he stumbled, blinking the lights from his vision, back to his group of friends, apparently carrying the entire collection of Lockhart's work in his arms. He shook his head in an attempt to shake the white spots in his vision away, and he blinked at his friends, who suddenly crowded around him – mostly Hermione, Daphne, and Tracey.

"Harry, you're so lucky!" Tracey gushed, looking at all of the books in his arms.

"You have to let me borrow one of these at some point, Harry." Daphne sighed, her fingers lightly tracing the leather of the top volume.

"Isn't he wonderful?" Hermione sighed dreamily, looking over Harry's shoulder at the man who had now returned to his place behind the table, a quill in hand as he sat down with a flourish. All throughout the store, witches rushed to form a queue, knocking and shoving one another in their haste.

"What just happened?" He asked, confused, looking around the room for a moment.

"Lockhart just gave you his entire collection, of course!" Daphne sighed with a roll of her eyes. "Honestly, Potter, weren't you paying attention at all?"

"It's all sort of a blur after the reporter grabbed me, if I'm honest."

"That was brilliant, by the way – when did you get so quick on the draw?" Neville asked finally, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Oh, uh, Felix taught me." Harry replied, giving Neville a pointed look for a moment.

"Who's Felix?" Hermione asked, her head tilted to the left a little as she looked at him. Tracey, likewise, looked just as curious, while Daphne simply nodded knowingly.

"He works for my family – I visited him over the summer. He's a little protective of me, so I managed to get him to teach me a few things."

"Oh – that's ni-" Hermione began before she paused and frowned. "Wait a minute – were you performing magic over the summer? Harry, you know we can't do that – we could get our wands snapped! Oh Merlin, you did magic at the wedding!" She gasped, her hand leaping to her mouth.

That seemed to snap him out of whatever remained of his daze, and he chuckled a little. "I won't get in trouble for doing magic."

"What do you mean? Of course you will!"

"He's from a Pureblood family, Hermione – that rule is only enforced for those of us that live among Muggles or come from Muggle families." Daphne said with a shrug. "It's not fair, or right, but it is what it is."

"That's positively racist!" Hermione sputtered, her trade-mark scowl beginning to form on her features.

"What's racist?" Neville asked, looking between everyone with a confused expression on his face.

"The trace!" Hermione replied.

"No, I mean what does racist mean?"

"Discriminating against or being prejudice against an individual or group and treating them differently or inferior to yourself." Tracey answered, her own scowl on her face. "It happens a lot in the Muggle world based on skin colour, accent, and religion."

"People treat others differently in the Muggle world based on skin colour?" Harry blinked, surprised.

"It's awful – there was a boy in my primary school who was from the Middle-East, and some of the other kids – mostly the boys, actually – kept on bullying him because of his accent. It was horrible." Tracey sighed, sadly. "Zafar was the nicest boy ever."

"Nicer than me?" Neville gasped, and Harry rolled his eyes and gave the boy a little shove.

"Everyone is nicer than you, Longbottom." Tracey scoffed, turning her nose up in the air, her dark ponytail flicking sharply.

"She's got a point." Harry chuckled, grinning at his friend. "Now, who wants the books? I've already got mine for the year."

The girls looked at one another for a second, something passing between them as Harry stood there watching them – something heavy knot formed in the pit of his stomach as they turned collectively to look at him, each with dazzling smiles.

"Harry, you know how we've known one another the longest…" Daphne began, cocking a brow, her lopsided smile on her lips. Harry narrowed his eyes – he didn't like where this was going.

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" He sighed.

"Well, I just figured, that as your oldest friend out of the three of us, I'd be the natural choice." Daphne said, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Is this really happening?" He asked, looking at Neville. Neville, it appeared, was just as stunned as Harry felt – his mouth hanging open as he blinked slowly. "You know what? It's been a long day already, and this is already giving me a headache – it gets split between all three of you."

Daphne frowned a little as he passed her the top three books, Tracey got the next three, and Hermione got the last four – on the basis that of them all, her school supplies were the most difficult to acquire. Harry was well aware of the poor exchange rate between Muggle currency and the Galleon.

With his arms no longer burdened by the volumes, Harry moved to step away from the crowd that was still surging toward the table. He stepped around a particularly enthusiastic middle-aged woman who seemed preoccupied with tugging the collar of her shirt a little further down.

He stepped toward the front of the store, where the crowd was thinnest, the constant press of bodies and the accompanying heat had made him start to sweat a little under the armour. He grimaced, knowing just how much he was likely to stink when he peeled it off of him when they returned.

Their eventual return to Blackwall gave him pause. He enjoyed the company of his friends, and it had relaxed him a little, but he couldn't help but still be a little angry over the whole thing with Arcturus. He'd never know how he had managed to keep his mouth shut until the Lord – he had no idea just who said it – had left.

Then, he'd not been able to contain it any longer.

He sighed, remembering how he'd slammed Arcturus's door open with such force, he'd heard the doorknob snap and bounce on the floor as he'd glared at the Black patriarch. He'd yelled, he'd snapped, and finally, his magic had flared in his anger and Arcturus's study had been wrecked in a tornado of magic. The desk had been the first thing to go, lifting entirely off the floor and crashing into the ceiling.

Arcturus had said nothing throughout it all – simply stood there with that same blank expression he used during meetings of the Wizengamot, and simply clasped his hands at the small of his back. He hadn't so much as flinched as the room was wrecked around him; his fine clothes being buffeted by the magical tempest. Sirius and Remus had run into the room at a full sprint, both quickly ducking out the room as one of the couches was flipped over.

Even now, he couldn't remember what he'd said – it was all a blur, but whatever it was, he'd seen that flash in Arcturus's dark eyes, even if his face hadn't betrayed any of it. The next thing he knew, he had stepped into the Floo and gone straight to the Leaky Cauldron, Sirius, and Remus both close behind.

He groaned quietly and briefly placed his forehead against the shelf in the darkened corner he'd managed to steal away to, thankful that at least this small corner was deserted. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes, feeling the magic within him roiling and thrashing just beneath the surface.

He took a number of calming breaths, in through his nose, and out through his mouth. He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but by the time he opened his eyes once again, he felt better – lighter, almost.

He'd apologise to Arcturus the moment they returned to Blackwall. Things likely wouldn't be as they were for a while – after all, he was returning to Hogwarts in just a few days – but it was a start.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?"

Harry pushed himself away from the bookshelves and stood to his full height and turned to look at Draco Malfoy. The blonde looked a little taller than the last time he'd paid him any attention, which was some time during Hogwarts – he'd forgotten he'd even existed at the wedding. His hair was still slicked back, and he wore an all-black outfit beneath his green-lapelled Hogwarts cloak.

Draco Malfoy was regarding him with his usual sneer.

"Famous Harry Potter – can't even go into a book-shop without making the front page." Draco continued.

Harry arched his brow and clasped his hands casually in front of him. "Draco – still acting as if you own the place, I see."

Draco took a step closer to Harry, his pinched face briefly making him appear almost rodent-like. "House Malfoy is one of the most powerful-"

"House Malfoy is not one of the most powerful families, you fool. Your wealth is middling, and your lands are lacklustre – you're a cadet branch of the main line in France." Harry interrupted sharply, his earlier anger quickly returning.

"You dare-" Draco began, reaching for his wand. Within a blink of an eye, Harry's wand was in his hand and levelled at Draco's throat.

"If you even think about levelling that wand of yours at me, at least be quicker on the draw, Malfoy."

"What's going on over here?" Hermione asked, appearing on Harry's right – he glanced at her and inclined his head a little in her direction.

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Potter?" Draco managed, his head still tilted away from the tip of Harry's wand – his voice was shaky and trembling, his mouth tiwisted into an ugly grimace as his face flushed red.

"I'd speak more carefully, if I were you, Malfoy." Harry snarled, his fingers tightening around the thin piece of wood. "You're the one currently held at wand-point."

"He never was particularly intelligent." Daphne muttered as she joined them, Tracey and Neville at her sides – Sirius and Remus close behind. After a moment, Harry lowered his wand, but not before sharing a look with his guardians.

Draco stumbled back as Harry lowered his wand, though just as he was about to round on Daphne, a black leather glove gripped Draco on the shoulder as a taller, equally blonde man appeared behind him.

Like Draco, Lucius Malfoy had immensely blonde hair, though his was kept loose and flowing down his back. He was dressed in a black three-piece suit and held a black cane with a silver cap on it in his other hand.

"Now, now, Draco – play nice." Lucius said, his voice silky and contemptuous all at the same time. Harry looked evenly at the man, watching as his pale eyes glanced over him critically.

"Lord Malfoy." Harry said, his face entirely impassive as he stared back unflinchingly. He'd been in the presence of men and women far more intimidating than Lucius Malfoy.

"Lord Potter – so good to see you out among," Lucius paused, glancing briefly at Hermione, who was scowling up at him, and Tracey, who had an equal look of displeasure on her face. "The people."

"Careful, Lucius – you're not half as smart as you think you are." Sirius warned from behind him, at the very least it seemed to amuse Neville, who snorted quietly.

"Indeed – I hear your intelligence is second to none. Tell me, how was it competing against canines?" Lucius scoffed, and Draco grinned as his eyes remained on Harry – not that he cared particularly one way or another. Draco was an average student at best, whose advantage of having been born into a wizarding family had quickly disappeared as the rest of their class was quickly introduced to the basics throughout the year.

"Lucius, the day I consider you worthy of a witty back and forth, is the day I take the Dark Mark – I might even come to you for advice on that front." Sirius replied with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the verbal jab and began to lead the children to the door. "Now, if you don't mind, I've had enough of you for a lifetime already, and we've got better things to do."

"Indeed." Lucius drawled, though just as Harry was about to pass him, he held his cane out, blocking the way. "Do take the time to enjoy your coming year at Hogwarts, won't you?"

"Remove your cane before I snap it like a twig, Lord Malfoy." Sirius growled dangerously, while Harry simply glared at the Malfoy patriarch.

The seven of them stepped out into the street quickly after that, the five of them huddling together in a circle while Sirius and Remus were whispering to one another animatedly while glancing back into the store.

"Well, he's still a prick." Neville grunted, shouldering a bag of books. Like Harry, Neville was dressed in his armour, though it was cinched at his waist with that same belt he'd worn to the wedding.

"No wonder Draco's insufferable." Tracey muttered, running her hand over her ponytail that, even tied up, reached between her shoulder blades. Unlike Neville and himself, Tracey wore a simple summer dress beneath her Slytherin cloak.

Daphne, while previously would always venture out in armour similar to Harry's, had now seemingly abandoned that practice, and, instead, opted for finely made dresses. He supposed it had something to do with her getting older and being the heiress to her House – no doubt if Astoria were with them, she'd be in full armour and on the lookout for monsters to slay. Perhaps he should point her in the direction of House Malfoy? They wouldn't know what hit them.

"That man was foul." Hermione huffed, folding her arms over her chest – the bag in her hand swaying back and forth.

"You'll hear no disagreement from us." Neville shrugged and Harry nodded.

"Here, you three, hand me your bags." Harry sighed, holding his hand out. The three girls looked confused for a moment, looking at him oddly. "Look, today hasn't been a good day, and Sirius said I've got to carry your bags." He sighed.

"Seriously?" Daphne asked, her brows shooting up. She didn't even hesitate before shoving it into his chest. "We get our own bag carrier for the day? I won't complain."

Tracey followed quickly after, snickering as Harry shouldered her bag. Hermione, on the other hand, hesitated and worried at her bottom lip. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"It isn't as bad as you think – now, hand me your bag."

When she finally handed him her bag, Harry quickly threw it over his shoulder with the others and glanced at Neville. "You can carry your own damn shopping, Longbottom."

"There's just no love in this relationship anymore." Neville sighed, looking at the floor and shaking his head. Tracey giggled, and they all fell into a comfortable silence.

Behind them, through the open door of the store, there was a sudden commotion of shouting and the sound of books toppling over. Above the noise, however, there was a distinct chant of 'fight', whose dual voices Harry would recognise anywhere.

He sighed and tugged his money pouch open on his belt and pulled out the Galleons and handed them to Daphne – Neville, likewise, quickly placed the golden coins in her outstretched palm. He tried not to think about the smug, lop-sided smile as she counted out her winnings.

"Come on – we should get a move on." Sirius said, ushering them down the street.

"What's going on in there?" He asked, looking back up the street to where a number of people were scrambling out of the door.

"Arthur Weasley just punched Lucius." Remus chuckled, patting Harry on the shoulder.

"Wicked!" Neville breathed, grinning.

"Never thought he had it in him." Sirius chuckled as they passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley. "I'm almost proud."

"Oh, can we visit Magical Menagerie? I need to get some treats for Kiki!" Tracey asked, her eyes wide as she glanced between the group and the store as it approached on the far side of the street.

"I see no issue with it." Sirius smiled, gesturing for them to go on ahead. Tracey let out a quick squeal before grasping Daphne and Hermione's hands and darting off.

"If she feeds that thing any more treats, it'll hardly be able to move." Neville chuckled, nudging Harry with his elbow. The two shared a laugh as they hurried to follow – already the smell of so many animals together assaulted his senses. It wasn't a smell he'd ever really been able to describe in any real fashion, but it always distinctly reminded him of the store.

He'd ventured inside a number of times over the years, often with Neville as he purchased something or another for Trevor. It was a dimly lit store, with every available space filled with cages for various Familiars. The store catered to all sorts, from the smallest amphibian, to the largest bovine – Harry even bought Clara's perches from the store.

He glanced around the room – Tracey was looking at the rodents and whispering things to them as she petted them, a bag of treats already in her hand. Daphne was on the far side of the store fussing over a number of birds – mostly small Hawks, though he did spot a small Raven preening under her attention.

Neville quickly peeled off from him, heading over to the amphibian tanks, no doubt to see about finding Trevor something or another – perhaps a leash, or at the very least a bell so that they knew where he was at all times.

Harry meandered around the store, the usual quiet conversations of the animals just barely whispering into his ears. As he passed an aisle, he chuckled at the sight of Hermione with a cat in her arms – it was a huge ginger thing, though it distinctly looked like a Kneazle in its face. Its yellow eyes stared at him unblinkingly and for the briefest of moments, he felt himself shudder – was that how it felt to be subjected to a Kneazle's magic? He knew they had the innate ability to judge people, but to actually experience it? He shuddered again – hopefully, it liked him as much as it liked Hermione.

"Oh, Harry – isn't he just precious?" Hermione asked as he approached, peppering the ginger feline with a number of kisses around its face.

"It's certainly something, that's for sure." Harry replied, raising a brow as he offered his fingers to the creature. The Kneazle sniffed once before it darted its tongue out and brushed the back of his fingers – taking that as acceptance, he carefully scratched the feline just behind the ear, the soft purring as it closed its eyes contentedly causing him to grin. "Just a big softie, isn't he?"

"He's perfect." Hermione sighed happily, nuzzling the feline happily.

"Why don't you buy him?" He suggested. "He obviously likes you – seems like a smart Kneazle."

"Oh, I couldn't!" She replied with a quick shake of her head. "My parents would kill me – maybe after I've talked them into it, if he's still here."

"I'll keep my fingers crossed for you." Harry grinned as he gave the Kneazle one last scratch under the chin. "I'm going to have a wander – are you going to be okay with the furball?"

"I'll be fine." Hermione nodded, nuzzling the Kneazle.

"Just don't try sneaking him out the store under your jumper."

Hermione rolled her eyes and knocked his shin with her foot. He chuckled as he stepped around her, heading toward the back of the store slowly. He walked past all sorts of creatures – from the plainest looking puppy, to even a small Demiguise. Harry had to take a second look after he first spotted it, not quite believing his eyes.

He carried on, glancing at all sorts of creatures and products you could buy for them when he finally came to the incubation wall. Rows upon rows of glass cabinets faced him, each with a number of powerful magical enchantments for heat – in fact, he could feel the wall of warm air from the far side of the aisle as the creatures within contentedly sat, soaking it all in.

"Sesza hungers." He heard as he approached one of the enclosures – it was furnished well, with a number of branches with bright green leaves, and even what seemed like the entrance to a tunnel system under the dry leaves that made up the base of the enclosure. Occasionally flicking its tongue into the small bowl of water was a gorgeous, red-breasted copperhead viper.

The red-breasted copperhead was different to its mundane counterpart, in that when provoked, this particular species would burst into flame and enlarge itself to twice its usual size – it was a popular Familiar to Elemental wizards and witches with a disposition to fire.

"At least you're not thirsty." Harry grinned, kneeling to look at the snake. Immediately, the snake's head lifted and looked at him. He blinked, watching as the serpent stared at him, its tongue flicking out slowly.

"A Speaker has approached!"

All around him, the voices of the snakes called out – he glanced over his shoulder to where he saw Sirius perusing something with Remus, neither of them acting as if they could hear the chorus of voices.

"Speaker!"

"A Speaker, here?"

"So long has it been!"

"Ekzaz wishes to see the Speaker!"

"Are you speaking about me?" He asked, frowning as he looked about the enclosures – each snake was staring at him, their heads pressed against the glass.

"You are a Speaker, are you not?" The first snake asked – the one he'd been watching. "You can hear us – speak to us."

"Sure, but surely you have plenty of conversations each day with people."

"They cannot understand Sesza – you are the first."

Harry blinked, looking around to see each of the snakes bobbing their heads slowly. They hadn't met a single other person that could speak to them? Was he losing his mind?

"But I-" He began, only to startle and jump in the air a little as he felt a hand clasp his shoulder.

"You alright there, Harry?" Neville asked before looking at all the snakes looking at them. "Woah, that's weird – why are they staring at you like that?"

"I was just talking to them, and-"

"You were talking to the snakes?" Neville asked, the smile gone from his face as he grew more serious than he'd ever seen the boy. "Harry – this is very important – were they talking back?"

"Well, yeah – of course they were."

"Sirius!" Neville called, waving him over. Harry glanced over his shoulder and watched as both Sirius and Remus hurried over to the two of them, both of them warily glancing at the onlooking snakes as they arrived.

"What's wrong? Bewitched the snakes, Harry?" Sirius asked, the corner of his lips twitching a little while his eyes darted all around, looking for the reason that Neville called for them.

"No, he was talking to them – and they were talking back."

"What?" Sirius demanded, whirling on Neville – all humour gone from his eyes.

"Show them, Harry – I didn't hear any of it. I think I came just after he finished speaking." Neville said, nodding at him encouragingly.

"You're all mad." Harry said, his eyes darting between the three pairs of eyes looking intently at him – even Remus was stroking his chin, a habit Harry knew he had when he was thinking intently.

"Are the Two-legs bothering the Speaker?" One of the snakes asked, curiously.

"No, they're not bothering me – apparently they can't hear you."

"Merlin, he is a Parselmouth!" Neville gasped; his eyes wide.

"Remus, I think it best if you go and tell Arcturus right now – he needs to know. The rest of us, I think, will go and get some ice cream and wait for you." Sirius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose briefly before rubbing his temples with both hands.

"Can someone tell me what's going on? Why is this a problem?" Harry snapped, his frayed temper rearing its ugly head once again.

"It's not a problem, Harry – not really at least." Sirius replied as Remus gave a curt nod and began heading toward the door. "You're a Parselmouth. You can speak to snakes. It's just a rare gift, but in recent years, it's been tainted by the reputation of the last well known one."

"Who was it?"

"Voldemort."