The gravel crunched under his boots as he wandered down the path through the gardens of Blackwall; the smells of the various flowers in the beds on either side of him wafted beneath his nose, the sweet, heady aromas mixing with the fresh air and relaxing him quite pleasantly.

To his right, were the pinks and deep reds of a bed full of roses, while on his left, was a bed full of violet campanulas, their bell-like petals swaying left to right gently – while normally neither of the flowers would be in bloom in the winter months, thanks to a little bit of House Elf magic, the gardens of Blackwall were almost always in constant bloom.

The sky above him was clear, and despite the early November date, it was moderately warm – cool enough that a warm doublet was required, but warm enough that his cloak could remain inside. It was a pleasant change from the dreary weather that had plagued the estate for the previous two weeks; constant showers, and heavy grey clouds had lingered and made the days seem longer, duller, and far more work than they probably should have been.

It was nice, to get out into the gardens once in a while, to take a break from locking himself in his study as he read over papers and sheafs of parchment, not only for himself, but on Harry's behalf too – a few months ago, it would have been quite easy to go through it all; Remus would have handled the House Black correspondence, while he would have handled House Potter's, as its Regent.

Now, he was on his own, doomed to suffer through it all without any assistance – how Arcturus had managed for years, he didn't know. However, whenever he thought he was going to drown in letters, he would just remind himself that it was for Harry – it was all for Harry.

When he'd seen his boy off at the Platform, it had taken a moment, watching him wave back at them through that window, to realise that the little boy he had bounced on his knee, who he had bought untold plushie-toys for, and had chased after in his Animagus form, was no longer that same little boy.

There was a maturity setting about his features that tore at Sirius's heart – the baby fat, and the slight chubbiness of Harry's face was beginning to melt away, and the strong jaw and sharp features of the Potters were beginning to make themselves known. It felt like the last twelve years had disappeared in no time at all.

He blew out a breath through his nose and tucked his hands together at the small of his back, glad, at least, that the dark gloves he wore were keeping his fingers nice and warm as his loose hair floated on the gentle breeze.

"I'll admit," He began, his voice tinged with a certain level of amusement. "You look wonderfully out of place."

"You don't think I fit in? I'm almost offended." Felix chuckled, raising his hand up to stroke his well-groomed beard as he grinned. Unlike Sirius, who was dressed in a simple doublet, breeches, and boots, Felix was dressed in his usual combination of plate and brigandine armour – his staff had been left in Sirius's study.

"What do you think?" He asked, eyeing the man next to him. "This is the first time you've come here, right? What's it like to be home?"

"Strange." Felix shrugged, the space between his brows furrowing slightly. "It feels the same, but, well, different. It definitely feels old."

Sirius snorted. "It should do – it's a few billion years old."

"That'd do it." Felix chuckled as they rounded a corner, the flowerbeds, and the tall hedges behind them giving way to a large, open space before them – it was a quiet, out of the way spot that many didn't visit when they walked the gardens, preferring to remain as far away from the large tree in the centre of the clearing as possible.

It sat on the edge of a large pond, and on its weeping branches, which were bare from the changing of the seasons – no matter what Elf magic was applied, nothing could tell a Whomping Willow what to do – Sirius could see the small family of Bowtruckles scurry along the dark branches and dive into the tree itself, while Fairies fluttered about the surface of the pond, dancing merrily.

He could remember running about the garden with James when they were young and finding this place – at the time, they'd only been small, and had no idea that the Whomping Willow had even existed in the garden; it had felt like stepping into a whole new world for the two of them.

They'd been lucky, of course, not knowing what a Whomping Willow actually was, and it had been a good job that this one had a far more pleasant attitude than the one on the grounds of Hogwarts.

He turned to the man beside him, eyebrow raised. "So, you mentioned you had news?"

"Aye." He nodded. "Brandon and I have made some progress in our investigation."

"And?"

"It's not good. We called the Lords of the keeps and those tasked with protecting the cities between the southern border and Arpton and questioned each individually – they all said the same thing; Trevelyan invoked the Old Magic."

Sirius blinked and frowned, his fists clenching behind his back. "That's not possible."

"That's what we thought, but…" Felix shrugged, running a hand through his hair as he looked around. "He's the Steward until the King returns; not royalty himself – how he managed it, I don't know, but, the important thing is, he managed it."

"So, what do we do?"

"What do you want to do?"

Sirius pursed his lips and put his hands on his hips, chewing the inside of his cheek as he turned to stare at the Whomping Willow. So much had been decided in front of it over his life; it had been here that he and James had created their bond, here that James had decided to pursue Lily, and here James had declared him Harry's godfather. "If this news were to spread among the Bannermen, what do you think their reactions would be?"

"Hard to say." Felix huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "We're all bound to the Potter Family Magic. I think there'd be some outrage – that Trevelyan, however he managed it, invoked the Old Magic amounts to sacrilege to many; I'm not best pleased myself, and Brandon raged for a whole day."

"Harry will have to know."

"Of course he will – he's the Lord Potter, I'd expect him to know."

"He's my boy." Sirius said, quietly, as he glanced at the ground. "He shouldn't have to know these things."

"That's out of our hands, Sirius – in three years, he inherits everything; those are our laws."

"Has there been any word from The Council?" Sirius asked, his shoulders drooping as he huffed a breath. "Anyone?"

"The Council hasn't been heard from since you visited years ago. It might be worth sending someone for an audience, but-"

"They're not exactly the most helpful." Sirius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This isn't how I thought today was going to go."

"I imagine you think that quite often." Felix snorted, rubbing his jaw with his armoured fingers. "I know I do, especially when Harry's around."

"I learned to expect the unexpected with him." Sirius grinned, flashing his teeth. "I learned that the hard way last night, in fact."

"What happened?" Felix sighed, pinning him with a look.

Sirius held his hands up and shook his head slowly. "Nothing bad – he just needed to blow off a little steam; the week leading up to Halloween – Samhain, to you – he was miserable, he always gets like that just before, and he thinks he embarrassed himself in front of someone on the day itself. He was frustrated, and add on how he lost a duel…"

"He lost another duel? That doesn't sound right." Felix scowled, shifting his feet. "He's one of the most powerful wizards I've ever met."

"It was an older student, and he holds back – it's rather irritating, actually." Sirius sighed, pressing is lips tightly together. "He's in the habit of playing by their rules. The school, I mean."

"And you haven't broken him out of the habit?"

Sirius held his hands out to either side of him before letting them drop and slap against his thighs. "I've tried – it's going to be a long process, I think. I managed to… prod him into sending a few spells at me last night, and he exhausted himself; I've never seen him use so much magic before."

"What happened?"

"Damn near brought the building down on us, that's what happened."

"He should be trained at Arpton – not with these… boys and girls." Felix grunted, waving a hand dismissively. "We could teach him properly, and he could learn to defend himself – I'd take him as my own Apprentice if he did."

It was with a tired sigh that he ran his hands down his face – he was still exhausted from the previous night and having spent a number of hours at Harry's bedside in the Hospital Wing before being shooed out by the Healer on duty, Healer Worner.

For saying that she was the quietest of the Healers he had met – for Andromeda would no doubt string him up by his innards, and Poppy would have no compunctions about taking him to task for such foolish behaviour; despite what he thought – there had been a look in her eye last night that brooked no argument and let him know that, in no uncertain terms, would she have any issue kicking his arse, even if she had to nurse him afterwards. In fact, he wondered if, for a brief moment, she'd wanted him to give her the opportunity.

She may have been the quietest, but Merlin, she was the most terrifying Healer he'd ever met.

"He wanted to go to Hogwarts." He said, eventually. "It was where his parents went – most Potters attend Hogwarts, you know."

"I didn't." Felix muttered, scowling at the pond by the Willow. "And he's alright?"

"Tired, but he'll be fine. Andromeda, my cousin, and Remus will be arriving later to let me know how he is – I don't think I'm his favourite person right now." He shrugged. "Which is fine – he needed last night more than he probably thought."

"What do you mean? Is this something to do with embarrassing himself?"

"Partly. Come, walk with me." He said with a small smile. He led the wizard slowly around the edge of the clearing, the two of them meandering around the gravel path that ringed it. For a moment, there was nothing but the soft sounds of the breeze, the calls of the birds, the sounds of their feet on the gravel, and the occasional clank of Felix's armour. "What do you know of Harry's time at Hogwarts?"

"I-" Felix hesitated, swallowing.

Sirius smiled. "You won't be betraying his confidence, I assure you."

Felix was quiet for a moment before answering, the quiet sounds of his armoured hands clenching and unclenching from where they rested at the small of his back. "He's mentioned some friends, a wizard, Voldemort, and the Basilisk – oh, and a Mountain Troll."

"And what has he said of those friends of his?"

"Longbottom, Neville, I think the name was, is his best friend, correct? An orphan, like him?"

He smiled sadly. "All but – his parents were tortured to insanity with the Cruciatus curse; my cousin, Bellatrix, was responsible. Arcturus had her killed shortly afterwards, and all mention of her erased within the family."

"I'd expect nothing less for an Unforgiveable." Felix scowled, a brief shiver visibly running through the man. "There was another – Greengrass, I think her name was."

"That'll be Daphne; the heiress of House Greengrass – you'd like her, I think. Then there's Tracey Davis, the mischievous one of the lot."

"There was one last one – a Muggle-born, right?"

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes, smirking at the man beside him. "Aye, you'd be correct – Hermione Granger. The smartest witch I've met since Lily, and she's been at Harry's side ever since he rescued her from the Mountain Troll."

Felix blinked. "He rescued her? He didn't mention that."

"Left that bit out, did he?" He chuckled, glancing up at the clear sky. "He jumped on its back to try and give her a chance to run – the shit didn't give a thought for his own life."

"That sounds like him." Felix agreed with a solemn nod as the two of them came to a slow stop. "What does it have to do with him being embarrassed?"

"Harry and Hermione are-" He paused, pursing his lips as he thought of a suitable word. "Close. At first, I thought nothing of it – he'd saved her life, so it was entirely possible the two were settling a debt, but it's different."

"Different how?"

"It's rather scarily similar to James and Lily, his parents, only without the bickering." Sirius said, frowning as he thought about it. "It's a little infuriating, actually – not a single falling out the entire time they've known each other. Not even his parents managed that."

"So, he embarrassed himself in front of this Hermione then." Felix said slowly, pressing his lips together tightly. "Should I be concerned?"

Sirius shrugged. "No more than I – we have a wager, actually, on when they'll go on their first date. Moony said they were quite cosy on their first Hogsmeade visit, and I saw them talking last night – Hermione didn't look too pleased, now that I think about it. After that, I got him up on the platform and got him firing spells at me."

Sirius drew himself up as he felt Felix's eyes sweep over him. "I'm surprised you're standing, Black."

"It's a close thing." He admitted, reluctantly. "My wand was still smoking when I woke up this morning."

Felix put his hands on his hips and shifted from foot to foot. "Do you think he needs some time away from the girl?"

"Gods no," Sirius said quickly, waving his hands. "That's the last thing he needs. She's a good influence on him – honestly, Cale, if you could see the two of them together…" He breathed out slowly, his hand coming up to rub at his jaw. "He loves his friends, dearly, but he's… happy around her. He's always so serious, trying to grow up too quickly."

"He did grow up too quickly, Sirius."

Images of the cobblestone road flashed before his eyes, of Harry, dragged out from behind the large boulder, a large man with his weapon pressed into the side of his boy's throat. He could still remember the pure, unadulterated fear that had coursed through him at the sight – it was still something he occasionally dreamt about. "I know." He said, at last. "But he has you, and he has Brandon, and everyone here. I'm trying to get him to enjoy himself a little more, but it's been hard, especially since…"

"Arcturus." Felix nodded sympathetically. "It shocked us all when the news reached us. Still no word on what happened?"

"Nothing – Amelia still has Aurors on the case; it's a bigger deal here because of how few of us are left from the old families. Harry took it especially hard – even said he'd kill whoever did it."

"He did?" Felix blinked a few times before letting out a low whistle. "That's quite the declaration – you think he has it in him?"

"He's thirteen, Cale." He hissed, narrowing his eyes at the man, who shrugged unapologetically.

"So? I was about his age; killed a man while I was apprenticed to the man who trained me – blew his head from his shoulders."

"He's not an apprentice out in the wilds of-" Sirius stopped himself, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, while the other rested on his hip. He turned and took a pair of steps toward the tall hedge that ringed the clearing. "I know it's a harsh world, but I don't want to think about my son killing someone at thirteen."

"That's the thing, Black – he's not just your son, he's the Lord Potter; killing is his duty." Felix said from behind him, his words harsh, but his tone kind and gentle. "I don't like it any more than you do."

"The Old Way, I know." He murmured, closing his eyes as he breathed in deeply. "I hate this."

"I'm no fan of it either, you know."

"I know." He sighed, glancing over his shoulder. "You've done a lot for Harry already – he trusts you."

Felix shrugged, the armour on his shoulder clanking lightly. "I try to be worthy of that trust. He'll make a fine lord – if Trevelyan doesn't become an issue first."

"I agree; so, what do you suggest we do?"

"There's nothing much we can do at the moment. I'll send a party to The Council and see what they say, but it'll take time – we'll need a good reason as to why we're approaching them in the first place."

"I'm sure Brandon could think of something."

Felix offered a lop-sided smile. "Oh aye, he could think of something alright." The two of them chuckled, and Sirius caught sight of a small bird darting out of the hedge on the far side of the pond, beyond the Whomping Willow. "So, tell me about these duels of his."

"It's a club, started last year when the students were getting attacked and they didn't know it was a Basilisk – or, at least, Dumbledore didn't want to confirm it; I'm sure he knew."

"I wouldn't either, if I was the man."

Sirius hummed, and pressed his lips together tightly as he thought about the previous year, his mood souring. "In any event, I managed to get myself and Moony positions at Hogwarts, helping with the club, to watch over him as much as we could. The students duel one another; last year we mostly focused on defence, while this year, we're teaching proper duelling techniques."

"Sounds useful."

"Aye, and for most, it is… But with Harry, I don't know – he's just not progressing like he should be. I mean, you've seen some of the things he can do, how quickly he picks things up, how easy spells come to him – Merlin, he can manage a brilliant Protego, but he'll get beaten by half a dozen of his classmates."

"Do they have more experience fighting?"

Sirius scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Half of them are Muggle-born, so I doubt it. It's little things, like his footwork, or he'll react a second too late. You should've seen how quickly he reacted after I caught him in the shoulder with a Stinging Hex – it was like a completely different person. I barely got my wand up in time."

"Then why would he not do the same against his classmates?"

Sirius shrugged and began meandering along the path once again, Felix at his shoulder – across the way, Blackwall Manor was clearly visible over the far hedge, and the large, Whomping Willow twitched sleepily, its branches flicking the surface of the water, causing ripples to gently roll across one another. "He's never liked attention – he'd rather disappear into the crowd. I assume he's told you about his fame here, outside of his Lordship, I mean?"

"Aye, he told me – disgusting bunch of filthy sons-"

"You're not saying anything any of us haven't said before." Sirius chuckled, brushing his left hand against the leaves of the hedge, the tiny flowers mixed in with the green and yellow leaves were white and were a favourite of the Fairies. "I think it's for a few reasons, to be honest."

"Oh?" Felix hummed, cocking an eyebrow at him.

He nodded and allowed his hand to drop back to his side before settling it at the small of his back. "Obviously, he doesn't want to stand out any more than he already does – remember that scar when you first met him? The one on his forehead?"

"The lightning bolt? I remember it – you said something came out of it when you went to see The Council. It's almost like it was never there now."

"Here, most people's eyes go to his forehead first." Sirius sighed, pointing a finger at his own brow, and tapping it lightly – Felix's eyes darkened, and he watched as the man's jaw clenched and unclenched. "When he was little, he'd cover it with his hair. That scar made him the most famous wizard in our world, and it's a reminder of his parents. I don't blame him for wanting to be like the other kids."

Felix huffed, annoyed. "That's the crux of the matter, isn't it? He's not like the other kids – the bloody snake head mounted at Arpton could tell you that much."

"Morgana's tits, don't remind me – I just want to go one year without something going wrong. Did you get my message, by the way?"

"About the threat against him? Aye, we all got it – the Bannermen are just about ready to go to war for the lad. I'd be at that school watching over him myself if you hadn't talked me out of it." Felix scowled, childishly kicking a large piece of gravel with the toe of his boot. "I could have a full Household Guard there within an hour."

He grimaced, a sour taste in his mouth making itself known. "That was my initial reaction, honestly. This Minister is a fool – he's stationed Dementors around the school grounds and the nearby town, Hogsmeade."

"Those things you told me about? I've had the men practicing the charm you passed on, just in case any of them find their way through a Ro'rim, or someone is fool enough to make one at some point. It's a tough spell. Is that why you've told us to keep our distance?"

"Partly." Sirius nodded with pursed lips as they began to make their way back to the large house. "It's the only spell that truly affects them – it's why they're so terrifying, and also…" He paused, breathing in through his nose slowly. "I doubt he'd forgive either of us for making him stand out in the school so much – not to mention Household Guard are forbidden admittance on the school grounds per the bloody charter I have to abide by now."

"That sounds stupid." Felix grumbled, rolling his eyes. "He wouldn't be going anywhere without a guard if he were-"

"I know." Sirius said, shortly. "You don't have to bloody remind me every chance you get."

"It's fun."

"Aye, I bet you think it is – meanwhile, I'm stuck here second guessing every decision I make." He snapped before taking a deep breath and rubbing his forehead. "Look, I have Remus stationed at the school as one of his professors – Andromeda is there as well; she's been like a mother to him. He also has his friends, and a number of other adults who care a great deal about him – his Head of House, Minerva McGonagall is one of them. I trust he's in good hands."

"It's driving you mad, isn't it? Not being able to do more." Felix asked, pursing his lips as he looked at Sirius thoughtfully.

He nodded as they approached the steps leading up to the house, his tongue lightly running over his teeth. "More than you could possibly imagine. I'm still undecided on if I'm going to wrap him in cotton and hide him away somewhere this summer."

Felix barked out a laugh as they made it to the door, Sirius quickly opening it and gesturing for the man to step through first. "Oh, I imagine that would go down well. You'd have to get past that Phoenix of his first."

"I forgot about the bloody bird." Sirius sighed, closing the door behind him with a little more force than he'd intended.


The hall of Hogwarts was lit up with its thousand floating candles, and the sconces along the walls, spread evenly between the tall, alcove windows filled the tall room with warm light, while high above, the enchanted ceiling flashed with the lightning that briefly lit up the outside world.

It was its own little world of pleasantness, a shelter from the tumultuous storm that raged against the trees of the Forbidden Forest and battered the towers and parapets of the castle they had entered.

The long trestle tables had been removed, and instead, a long table against the left wall was filled with a variety of drinks, some alcoholic, others not. From where they stood, arm in arm at the entrance to the room, the large, heavy doors swung wide open to allow the air to flow comfortably, it was barely visible among the throng of bodies, young and old.

There were all sorts on this day, though none were students – they had been confirmed to their Common Rooms until it was time for the festivities to begin, and while he thought it unfair to the boys and girls that called the castle home, Sirius couldn't imagine being able to squeeze any more students within the hall.

Among the crowd before him, there were faces he recognised; many of them in separate groups, all holding their own private courts with allies, associates, and sycophants alike. He recognised the various Lords of the Wizengamot, and the other nobility of their society – there weren't many that had children playing in the day's match, but then, what better excuses would they need to visit with their children?

There were others as well, men and women from Hogsmeade that had purchased their tickets for the opening match of the Hogwarts season – all around the room, the excited buzz of fans of the sport talked about the prospects of the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff match.

He smiled as he stepped into the room, his wife on his arm looking as lovely as ever – she wore a long dress with a high neckline; it was black and had fine silver snakes entwining themselves all around her bodice, her hair had been pulled over her far shoulder, allowing his eyes to rake over the elegant sweep of her neck unmolested. Fine diamond earrings, which he had bought for her at the end of September hung from her ears and twinkled in the warm light of the hall.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, and he watched as the corner of her lips, which were painted a deep red quirked upwards, and her eyes, which were dark and smoky, thanks to her make-up, sparkled at him mischievously. "What's got you staring?" She hummed, curving a brow curiously.

"Just the most beautiful woman in the room." He said with a proud smile. "She just happens to be on my arm – I'm a lucky wizard."

Amelia scoffed and patted his arm, which was intertwined with his own. "Your flattery knows no bounds."

"Truer words were never said." He grinned, offering her a quick wink. "I consider it my duty to let my wife know that she's the most beautiful witch in any given room we walk into."

"Remind me again why I let you talk me into that first time we went to Hogsmeade?"

"Because I'm charming and I don't know when to quit, I think were the words you used."

"That sounds right." Amelia laughed, and something within Sirius's chest fluttered, just like it always did. "I'd almost forgotten what this room looked like. We were here at the end of the last year, but I never really took it in." She said after a moment as they made their way off to the side – he had no desire to be drawn into some stupid conversation with people he could barely tolerate.

"It's hard to believe it's not so long ago we were in here." He agreed, quietly. "Feels like a lifetime ago – it was weird, you know, standing up at the front and seeing everyone watching."

"You looked like you belonged up there." Amelia said, squeezing his arm and smiling at him. She glanced back toward the rest of the hall. "Do you remember the Sorting?"

"Oh aye – I begged for anywhere but Slytherin." He snorted, leaning against the wall behind the two of them casually, the feel of the cool, hard stone bricks felt strangely reassuring within the sea of bodies. "Thought I was going to die when it shouted Gryffindor."

"I'd been hoping for Gryffindor myself, you know."

"Really? You've never said." He said, surprised. He blinked as he looked at her.

Amelia waved a hand dismissively. "It wasn't a big thing – but I'd already decided I wanted to be an Auror by then; I thought, what better place than Gryffindor?" She said with a simple shrug. "I think I might have punched a few Gryffindors if I'd had to share a Common Room with them, though."

"Oh yeah? Which ones? There's a few that I'd have liked to see." Sirius snickered, moving his hand to the small of Amelia's back, lightly tracing small circles with his fingers.

"Oh, James definitely – that prank of yours in my second year, where you turned the staircase into a giant slide? I missed an entire day of classes because of that – you were all lucky nobody got detentions; I'd have taken them out of your arse."

Sirius chuckled at the memory, his eyes momentarily losing focus as he recalled the weeks of planning that had gone into that particular prank. "Moony was a genius for working out how to get the staircase to stay still. I wonder if anyone's pranked him yet."

"You'd think someone would try?"

"The twins know who he was – is. I'd expect them to give it a try, at least." Sirius shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I might have even offered a few tips to help them along."

"You know he'll know you helped them." Amelia smirked, gently resting against his side. "You're basically declaring war."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm making sure he doesn't get boring, and, Gods forbid, respectable."

"Some might say that you've become quite respectable, Sirius."

"Perish the thought." He chuckled, gently poking his wife in the side. "Though, I'll admit to getting my act together to catch the eye of the most respectable woman I know."

"You're hopeless." Amelia snorted, returning the poke with a grin. "Do you think he'll be alright?" She asked, her eyes darting to the far window where a brief flash of lightning pierced the dark sky.

"Merlin, I hope so – Andromeda has kicked my arse up and down Blackwall since Thursday."

"You deserve it."

"What?" He gasped, disbelievingly, as his eyes darted back to his wife. "You're supposed to be on my side in this! Andromeda was…" His face scrunched up. "Mean."

"You shouldn't have done it, and you know it." Amelia huffed. "Not everything has to be solved with some fight or another." She said with a roll of her eyes as she stepped in front of him, his hand falling limply to his side. "Did you ever consider just talking to him about it?"

Sirius frowned. "Well, no, but-"

"Instead, you baited him into using you as a glorified punching bag."

"It worked!"

"And he's given you the silent treatment since he woke up yesterday." She replied, evenly. "Like I said, you deserve it. One of us has to be the smart one, and evidently, that duty fell to me when I married you."

"You're almost as mean as Andromeda." He huffed, petulantly.

"No, I'm meaner – you're not her husband; you're mine." Amelia smiled, viciously. He swallowed nervously as she poked him in the chest. "And if you do something like that again, you'll be out of the bed quicker than you can say Diagon Alley."

"Yes dear." Sirius smirked, before chuckling quietly to himself as he pushed off from the wall, straightening his black doublet as he did so.

"What's got you amused?" His wife asked, arching an imperious eyebrow at him. "You don't think I'd follow through with the threat?"

"Oh no," He said quickly, waving his hand back and forth. "I just wondered if this was what it was like for James, when we weren't around."

"You still miss him."

"Especially on days like today." He nodded, glancing around the large room – there were a few eyes looking in their direction, though thankfully, nobody had begun to meander their way through the crowd just yet. "James and I always said we'd have our kids on the same Quidditch team. He was sure Harry was going to be a Chaser."

Amelia smiled sadly, her hand resting against his chest as she looked up at him. "He's here, in his own way. Harry is as much your son as he is James Potter's, so, in a way, it worked out."

He hummed, his lips pressing together tightly at the thought. How many times had he and James sat up into the night after Moony and the rat had gone to bed, talking of their futures, and making their grand plans. Back then Sirius had never truly expected to become the Lord of House Black – for all his repeated illnesses, Arcturus was an immovable object in his life. No matter how weak or feeble he became, he was always there.

James had declared his plans boldly, never doubting them for a second – he was going to be an Auror, the best in the department, and he was going to fight in the war; he was going to stop the slaughter of the innocents and defeat Voldemort himself if he had to, and it would all have been for Lily, to make sure their world was safe for her.

Sirius smiled faintly as he remembered the declaration; James had been sprawled on the sofa opposite the fire, one boot perched on the edge of the small table, and Sirius himself, had been draped over the chair closest to his room, his legs slung over the arm and his head tipped back as he stared up at the ceiling.

He'd believed him – James was the most powerful of the Marauders; if any of them would have been able to do it, it would've been him. He hadn't hesitated to declare that he'd be right there alongside his best friend, the brother he chose. It had been them against the world.

James had plans for when Voldemort was gone, of course – he'd wanted at least three children, at least one girl that he could spoil rotten. Sirius had never really considered a family when he was younger; his own family, save for Arcturus and Andromeda, had soured him on the idea, but every now and then, he'd dreamed.

He'd pictured the two of them attending the Hogwarts matches together, cheering their children on, and screaming at Madame Hooch when someone pulled something suspect – they would be their kids most ardent fans, and their children would be just as close as the two of them had been.

Obviously, things hadn't turned out the way they'd hoped. James was dead, the rat had turned traitor, and Harry had grown up with him and Remus instead. He blew out a breath through his nose as he pressed his lips to Amelia's forehead gently. "I'll go get us a drink, hm?" He asked, forcing the melancholy away.

"Just water for me, thank you." She said, the tips of her fingers trailing through his dark goatee before standing on her toes and pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

He stepped around her quickly, his legs quickly carrying him across the hall to the refreshments table with quick strides – there was a part of him that revelled in almost everyone in the hall scrambling out of his way, no matter the conversation they were holding.

His jaw was set, and despite the number of eyes he felt on his back, when he made it to the table, he'd remained unmolested, which, as far as he was concerned, was always a good thing. He had no time for half of the Lords and Ladies in the room, they were generally, boring, petty men and women, and he didn't need to be put into a sour mood over some fool's stupid ideas of grandeur beyond their station.

An assortment of drinks spread out before him, along the table: mugs of ale, mead, beer, and cider, and all chilled. There were golden and silver goblets of wine, both red and white, as well as goblets of various juices, apple, pear, pumpkin, and a dozen others, all of various, dazzling colours when placed next to one another.

His hand settled on a pair of simple cups, plain in decoration as he dragged them to him, while his other hand, his right, grasped the handle of the cool tin jug – the metal was dull, and frankly, it looked more than a little worse for wear, but at the end of the day, all it was used for was holding some sort of drink, in this case, water.

With the drinks poured, and a cup in either hand, he turned on his heel and strode back to his wife, who, he noticed, had been accosted by a pale, tall man with a dark, receding hairline, and an equally dark short beard.

His clothing was also dark, and only, in Sirius's not so humble opinion, served to highlight just how pale the man was – as he moved closer, he saw the sigil emblazoned in the man's closest shoulder and fought the urge to curse the idiot silly.

Odis Fleming, one of the members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors, and a perpetual pain in the arse. The late-middle-aged man belonged to House Fleming, who, in turn, was a Vassal to House Locke, another house in similar standing to that of House Black. Frankly, Odis was a complete tosser.

When Sirius had joined the school's Board of Governors, it had been largely useless – there had been no sweeping changes to school policy for the last two decades, and if anything, the curriculum had only gotten worse since the war; when Sirius himself had attended the school, it had been in the height of a war, and even then, there had always been at least two professors for each subject.

The budget had also been in shambles, with money going this way and that, but never really settling anywhere – there had been a point where, despite his anger at the man, he couldn't help but admire Dumbledore for not going ballistic at the useless members and cursing them all out of their skin.

He knew, realistically, that there were reasons as to why the Board had been in the shambles it had been – Lucius Malfoy had used it as little more than a way to exert a modicum of control on the school to further his private vendetta against Dumbledore, but he wasn't the only problem on the Board.

When Sirius thought about it, even the machinations of Lucius Malfoy paled in comparison to the most dangerous woman he had ever had the displeasure of working with: Amara Kullens, the Lady of House Kullens. Sirius was a man that had survived a war, but there were few who gave him pause like Lady Kullens did.

She was cunning, intelligent, and most importantly, ruthless – there was little doubt in his mind why the woman had married Lord Kullens. The two, frankly, deserved one another. He'd heard from Remus about what had happened in his Boggart class, and Sirius was well aware that Amara's daughter had been a part of it; the thought of a child's Boggart being her family had struck a little too close for comfort.

"-and then, the Hippogriff took off, can you imagine? Feathers, everywhere! All over the carpet!" Fleming chuckled before taking a sip of his goblet, just as Sirius re-joined his wife, quickly handing her a cup and pressing a gentle kiss to her hair. "Ah, Lord Black – I was just entertaining your wife here. It was such a shame to see her here all by herself, you understand, of course." Fleming smiled, though Sirius knew it was entirely false – nevertheless, he shook the man's hand and smiled tightly.

"Of course, I understand completely." Sirius said, his free hand gently moving to rest of Amelia's far hip after releasing the Lord's offered hand after a single pump. He brought the cup to his lips and took a sip, resisting the urge to smack his lips at the feel of the cool, crisp water; there was the faintest hint of lemon. "I don't see your wife – could she not make it?"

"I'm afraid not, Lord Black; the Scottish Highlands don't seem to agree with her."

"Curious, then, that you'd take a job in them." Amelia smiled innocently. His heart soared and he resisted the urge to kiss her silly.

Fleming smiled tightly, and Sirius watched as the man's teeth ground together for a moment. "I find the climate agrees with me; as you know, my own ancestral lands are much further north than your own, Lady Black – I'm afraid my wife isn't made of quite the same stock as I. Indeed, I'd be concerned for your own comfort this far north, though, by your reputation alone, I'm sure you're more than a match for the cold weather; an equal, at the very least."

Sirius cleared his throat and raised a single eyebrow – outwardly, he remained calm and unmoved, but just beneath the surface, his magic roared at the barely concealed insult to his wife. "I trust, Lord Fleming, that your ancestral home and lands are prepared for the coming winter months? As I'm sure you're aware, the Houses further to the north suffer the most, and it's so disappointing when they fall to the cold – I've often thought the Northern Houses quite like snow, actually; quick to settle, and just as quick to be brushed away. Wouldn't you agree?"

Before the man could say anything in response, the familiar head of ginger hair caught his attention over Fleming's shoulder – the tall Arthur Weasley, and his wife, Molly were meandering through the crowd toward the three of them, both with smiles on their faces.

He liked the two of them; he'd fought in the last war by Arthur's side, and he'd found Fabian and Gideon, Molly's older brothers, to be likeable, pleasant wizards – it was easy to know who the twins had taken after, even if they might not have known it.

"If you'll excuse yourself, Lord Fleming, I'm afraid we've got some friends to catch up with." Sirius said, making a sharp motion with his head that, thankfully, the man followed. Fleming bowed only so much as was required, his face still a shade of puce from Sirius's not-so-thinly-veiled-threat.

The two of them watched the man scurry away, his tail tucked firmly between his legs, and so when both Arthur and Molly appeared before the two of them, both with wide smiles on their faces, and a twinkle in Arthur's eye, it was with a breath of relief that Sirius shook the other man's hand.

"Sirius! Good to see you! How have you been?" Arthur asked, clasping his hands at the small of his back and rocking on the balls of his feet once their handshake was complete. "How's Harry?"

"Harry's fine – I reckon he might even have a chance at beating Hermione for the top spot in their year come summer." Sirius grinned, turning his gaze briefly on Molly. She was dressed in a royal blue dress, which complimented her complexion and hair, though the shawl about her shoulders was one of her patented, knitted creations. He grasped her hand and kissed the back of it; she beamed at him, swatting his arm lightly.

"Oh, Sirius, you old charmer!" She grinned. "Look at the two of you, I don't think I've seen either of you since your wedding; oh Arthur, don't they look lovely?"

"It's good to see you happy." Arthur grinned, his right hand smoothing the Muggle Waistcoat he had on beneath his jacket. "And Amelia, you look as wonderful as you did at the wedding. How're things in the department? Caught him yet?"

Amelia inclined her head as her smile spread, while Sirius contented himself with grinning with all the pride of a man who was attached to a witch far beyond what he thought he'd be able to achieve. If Remus were around, there was little doubt in Sirius's mind that his best friend would call him a besotted fool.

He wasn't wrong, to be fair.

"Thank you, Arthur – you look quite dashing yourself. Work's fine; there are sightings in Scotland now, but the distance he's travelling has been steadily slowing down. We're not sure why. We'll have him soon, though."

"Good, good – terrible business, you know; what happened, I mean."

"I'm just glad Amelia was alright." Sirius smiled tightly, his hand returning to the small of her back. "She did everything she could."

"Oh, of course – that was never in question." Arthur said quickly, smiling. "Oh, I got a letter from the boys the other day; something about almost bringing a building down?"

"Honestly, Arthur, it was probably nothing – nothing to worry Sirius about." Molly sighed with a roll of her eyes. "You know how they are, mischief seeps out of every pore, and those bloody dogs aren't much better, either!"

"Dogs? I didn't know you had any." Sirius blinked, looking between the two Weasleys.

"Oh, we don't, but Fred and George do – a gift from Thomas, now that we're able to make some money again; it's all thanks to young Harry, of course. Those Curse Breakers were brilliant, by the way – fixed us right up." Arthur grinned. "Bought them each a Coy-Oh-Tay to see if they'd bond, and, well, for better or worse – they did."

"Oh, they never mentioned a thing." Amelia said, her eyebrows raised as she glanced between himself and the Weasleys. "Are they at the school?"

"Gods, no!" Molly laughed, a hand covering her mouth. "They can barely look after themselves – Arthur and I are watching over the pups until the summer when we think they'll be old enough to join them at the school."

"Hogwarts won't know what hit it." Sirius grinned cheekily. "But to answer the original question, yes – there was an incident a few days ago with a building. I can't get into it, you understand, but that new building the school had built last year nearly came down. Everyone was fine, Molly, don't worry." He smiled, looking at Molly who simply huffed at him.

"Really, Sirius." Molly said with a roll of her eyes. "Now, on a more pleasant note – any news on a little one around the corner?" She asked with glee, her eyes sparkling.

"Not just yet." Amelia chuckled, threading her free arm around Sirius's waist, and smiled up at him. "Maybe when Harry and Susan are a little older."

"How are the two of them, by the way? Getting along?"

"Oh yeah – like a house on fire. Susan's Augurey has a bit of a crush on Harry's Phoenix, though." Sirius chuckled as he took a sip of his water. "What about your boys? I saw in the paper that you all went on some trip to Egypt to see your son? How's he doing?"

"Oh, Bill's wonderful!" Molly gushed, while Arthur just grinned and nodded proudly, his chest puffing up a little. "A Curse Breaker now, you know – I still say it's much too dangerous for him, but you know Bill, he'll do what he wants. Charlie's settling in at the reserve, but still comes home every now and then when he's feeling a little homesick; you know how it is."

He didn't, in fact, know anything about homesickness at all – he'd been chased out of his own home by his parents, battered and bloody; he still couldn't remember arriving at Blackwall – it was all a little hazy, truth be told. He didn't say as much and just smiled and nodded.

"I hear Percy's looking to get into the Ministry over the summer – is he angling for your department?" He asked, instead, glancing at the tall man opposite him.

"Oh, probably not – he's never really shown much interest in Muggles, not that I blame him. He'll likely try for something with the Foreign Office; he enjoys languages, you know."

"Well, if he ever fancies a spot in my department, you just let me know and I'll find something for him. It's the least I can do."

"Oh, you're too kind – we couldn't possibly-" Arthur began, waving a hand dismissively.

Amelia cut him off, arching an eyebrow slowly. "From what I've heard, he's a serious boy; a little aloof, perhaps, but there's a reason he was made Head Boy, I should think. As long as he's willing to put in the work, I don't see any reason not to hire him, honestly."

"We'll let him know." Molly smiled before glancing over her shoulder at the tall windows. "Ghastly weather; they'll all come down with something, you mark my words."

"Should've seen Andromeda when we got here – we caught her and the other Healers stockpiling potions ready for the match. Pretty sure Poppy was apoplectic." Sirius snorted, scratching his chin idly at the memory – they'd only caught sight of the witches for the briefest of moments, but it had been long enough to see the crates of potions they'd each been carrying, and Andromeda had been, for lack of a better term, bitching about the stupidity of wizards and their ridiculous sport loud enough for them to hear.

"Oh, Andi – how is she? She looked beautiful at the wedding, oh and her daughter! What was her name? Nymphetamine – no, that's not right." Molly muttered, her brow creasing in concentration.

"Nymphadora." Amelia snorted, her free hand darting to cover her mouth. "She's one of my best Aurors. But don't let her hear you calling her that – she'll curse you silly."

"It's certainly a unique name." Arthur grinned, his hands tucking themselves away into his trouser pockets.

"Andromeda's doing well; she's settled into the school nicely, from what she's told me. I think she's feeling a bit better, knowing she can keep an eye on Harry herself after last year." He said, smiling sadly. "She's kicked my arse for each bump and bruise he's ever gotten."

"I'm sure it was well deserved, dear." Amelia said, patting his shoulder lightly, while the two Weasley's chuckled quietly at his pout. Just as he was about to open his mouth to reply, the noise in the hall suddenly stopped, and all eyes turned to the large doors, where the familiar sight of Dumbledore stood, his hands clasped before him as he peered over his spectacles.

"My apologies for interrupting what I'm positive were some very scintillating conversations but allow me the pleasure to announce that it is time to head down to the pitch – if you would all follow me."

Sirius pursed his lips and quickly downed the last of his drink, Amelia doing the same at his side – he wasted no time in taking Amelia's cup when she was done with it, and moments later, the cups were back on the table, Amelia's arm hooked through his own, with the Weasley's leading the way out of the hall just in front of them.

Just before they stepped through the giant entryway to the castle-proper, each spectator took only a few seconds to cast a quick spell over themselves – for himself and his wife, he made sure to do the honours; the downpour was horrendous, as was the howling wind, and so the little charm he cast created a small, bubble-like shield around them to keep the elements at bay for the duration of the match; after all, an umbrella would have been useless.

With the two of them sufficiently protected from the elements, Sirius offered his arm to his wife once again, and the two of them continued in the procession toward the Quidditch stands. It was a strange feeling, and one that he'd never quite gotten used to with this particular spell – he could still feel the strong gusts of wind, smashing against the invisible barrier, and yet, not once did he feel it on his skin, nor did a single strand of his hair so much as twitch.

Above him, as he flicked his eyes up, he could see the rain striking the barrier, and in fact, all around him as the wind blew it this way and that. They had only been outside for a few moments, but he knew that if it weren't for the spell, the two of them would have been soaked through.

Not that he'd mind seeing the dress cling to his wife just that little bit more. He grinned slyly to himself at the mental image that sprang into his mind, of an Amelia with damp hair, beads of water rolling down her skin, and the dark dress she wore hugging every curve of her toned body – a barely repressed shudder ran through his body.

Amelia glanced at him – for all that the spell protected them from the elements, it didn't suppress the sound of the storm above them. He grinned at her and wiggled his eyebrows playfully; the faintest hint of a blush colouring her cheekbones, and a small, private, lopsided smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

As the two of them followed along behind Molly and Weasley, his feet following the familiar path that, not so long ago, he had walked himself, with James at his side as they marched down to practice, or to one of their matches, his mind began to wander back to the comment Molly had made.

In his youth, a family had been a distant thought in his head – he was much more concerned with the on-going war during his school years, the avoidance of his father, until his death, and spending time with his friends, pranking the ever-loving shit out of the Hogwarts student body. He had dated during his school years, though nothing had really been serious until he'd laid eyes on the woman beside him.

Even then, he'd really only lived day-to-day – after all, he'd been fighting a war; each mission could have been his last, each wand that had been levelled at him could have fired the spell that killed him. He and Amelia hadn't really talked about the war, or even the future in the years following first his graduation, and then hers. The two of them had simply taken solace in the fact that the two of them were alive.

Even after the birth of Harry, that small, cherubic baby boy that he'd held in his hands in the Maternity Ward of Saint Mungo's, who had squirmed in his swaddling blanket and smacked his lips tired up at him, the thought of holding his own child still hadn't really registered in his mind.

That wasn't to say he hadn't doted on the pup from the moment he first laid eyes on him – in fact, Moony had often joked that it was hard to tell who was the more besotted, he or James.

So, when Harry had come into his care, he had tried to be the consummate parent; he was lucky in that he had Arcturus and Andromeda to help him and Remus, who had taken to his role as the favourite uncle with enthusiasm. And yet, not once did he think of having a child of his own.

Oh, he'd dreamt, in the cold, lonely nights, of Amelia and how things had once been. He'd imagined what it would have been like, to have her there at Blackwall with him, but he'd never been able to push himself past the hurt of seeing her after the rat's betrayal, her wand levelled at him amidst the rubble of the street.

Even in the following years, he'd kept his distance, and privately, resigned himself to Harry as his only child. Though, he should've known Arcturus would have set him straight in the end – it had been Arcturus's manipulations that had brought him out of his decade-long stupor, forcing him to face his past, and present himself, almost on bended knee, to the woman he loved.

Now, over a year later, he still struggled to wrap his head around the fact he was married – to the woman he loved, and for the first time in his life, he wanted to hear the pitter-patter of little feet running around Blackwall; we wanted to see Amelia's belly large and swollen, and he wanted to watch his family grow around him.

Wizards and witches lived exceptionally long lives, much longer than Muggles, and he was very much looking forward to his long years, doting on his children for the rest of his life. He would always consider Harry his first, for that was exactly what his son was – he was his first child, even if he couldn't inherit the lands and title that went with it.

If, in the future, Sirius and Amelia were blessed with a son, the title would go to him, or to a daughter, in the lack of a son – not that he was fussed either way. He wouldn't mind a little girl; with hair the same shade of brown as Amelia's, but with his curls, and if she got Amelia's looks as she got older, he'd curse every boy at Hogwarts impotent until her graduation.

Perhaps, if he started planning it now, he'd be able to convince Minerva of its merits – he had, after all, been a teenage boy himself.

But, at the end of the day, any children of his own were still some ways off – he could wait. Harry wasn't the issue – well, he was, but not in the same way most children are, there was no danger of Harry not loving any of Sirius's own children. Harry had always asked for a brother or a sister, and he knew, from Harry's descriptions of that Mirror of Erised that he'd seen a glimpse of a brother and a sister, fictional though they were.

Harry had always surprised Sirius – his boy had such a capacity to love those around him. Harry didn't trust easily; not after the disaster on the road to Arpton all those years ago, but once he did, Harry would do just about anything for those he cared about.

It was the part of Lily that lived on through her son.

Amelia gave his arm a gentle squeeze as she looked up at him, and he blinked down at her, smiling bashfully when he belatedly realised he'd gotten lost in his own head again; a habit that had developed since the end of the war.

In the days, weeks, months, and years since the death of James and Lily, each time there was a moment of silence, he'd find himself falling into memories, or dreams of what could have been – what could be, sometimes, for hours on end. As a result, he disliked the quiet, or, at the very least, long spells with little discussion, even if it were only background noise.

There was a reason he worked in his study with the Wireless on; he'd get little to no work done, otherwise.

It seemed, that not even the storm raging above them was enough to keep him from dwelling on Molly's innocent question, and even as they finally stepped into the stadium itself, the wooden support beams momentarily shrouding them in darkness before the pale, silvery light of nearby floating orbs of magic illuminated the staircases, he wondered how long it would be until he was back here again, for the next of his children.

The sounds of the storm had passed the moment they stepped into the stadium, and so the thrum of conversation filled the air once again – high above them, Sirius could hear the chanting of the students, all no doubt soaked to the bone and wrapped up warmly against the bitter wind and rain, all too young to manage the spell that had kept them dry and warm.

"Go, go, Gryffindor!"

"Hufflepuff, do your stuff!"

"Sounds like everyone's already fired up." Sirius grinned, threading his fingers through his wife's. "Soaked, but fired up."

"You're aware that I'm in a most precarious position – I'm torn between supporting my old House and Harry."

"I'm sure you'll make the right choice, dear." He said with a wink, chuckling quietly under his breath at the roll of her eyes.

As they climbed ever higher and higher, the crowd thinning as everyone went to their designated seats, the chants became louder and louder, and the steady stomping of feet drowned out the sound of the storm outside. Let it never be said that Hogwarts didn't take its Quidditch seriously.

Eventually, with burning thighs, they reached their own box – the Weasleys had peeled away with a friendly wave in the lower levels, while the two of them would be seated with the Board of Governors and a few other select individuals; both Remus and Andromeda would be with the staff, Andromeda at the side of the pitch, ready to look after any injury with the other Healers, and Remus in the staff box.

Their box, unlike the others that he'd glimpsed over the years playing the sport himself, and the previous times he'd seen Harry play, was positively lavish in comparison to the simple wooden benches he'd expected.

Each space had an individual wing-backed chair with plump cushions, and a set of Omnioculars already laid out for them. The two of them weren't the first to arrive; Fleming was already seated beside Amara Kullens, who, herself, was perched on the edge of her seat in a long, navy blue dress with very little material above her shoulders – the neckline, which he saw when she turned to regard him with a cold gaze, plunged between her breasts.

Her hair was shorter than he remembered it being the last time he'd seen her – where before it had been quite long, now, it was short, barely reaching past her jaw. Her dark, almost black eyes swept over him, and her lips pursed slightly as a long, pointed fingernail tapped her knee idly.

There were others in the box, of course – Dantis Whitehill would be impossible to miss, even if he wasn't one of the largest men he'd ever met. The Lord of House Whitehill, one of the few remaining Bannermen of House Gryffindor with a presence in Britain, was a large, broad man with dark brown skin, a scalp shaved bald, and a short, dark goatee framing his mouth.

Dantis was the first to approach, quickly rising to his feet and striding toward him, an excited grin on his face as he bowed politely to both himself and his wife. "Lord Black, Lady Black, a pleasure as always; the day is made all the more lovely by your presence." Dantis grinned, charmingly, pressing his lips to the back of Amelia's hand, which was held delicately between his own, huge ones.

Sirius rolled his eyes at the display, though he couldn't find fault in the large man's words – he and Dantis had known each other for years, the two of them meeting shortly after Sirius had gained custody of Harry. Dantis was a straightforward man, with a charming personality and a quick wit – he valued hard work, and couldn't care less about a person's pedigree, which, after Sirius had briefly met the current Lord Gryffindor and his heir, was a refreshing change of pace.

Dantis straightened, his hands smoothing the dark doublet he wore; unlike Sirius's own, it had a striped patterning, which was complemented nicely with the white of the tunic beneath it, and the bold, bright red trimmings.

"Thank you, Lord Whitehill – the pleasure is all mine." Amelia smiled widely.

"Not if you stay on Black's arm, it won't be." Dantis winked, catching Amelia by surprise, and making her laugh as they stepped into the box properly.

"As always, you continue to talk out of your arse, Whitehill." Sirius said, archly, though there were no hurt feelings at the comment. He knew the man, and enjoyed his company – if anything, he was annoyed he hadn't thought to make a joke like that first.

"I'm sure." Dantis chuckled, sliding easily into the seat on Sirius's left, while Amelia settled in the one to his right. "I hear you chased Fleming off quite nicely earlier."

"The man implied my wife to be a cold bitch – I'd have destroyed his entire House if he'd uttered another word." He huffed, adjusting his belt slightly. "Stupid prick."

"He didn't say anything I haven't heard before, Sirius. Really, it hardly offends me." Amelia offered quietly, her hand resting atop his.

Sirius glanced at her; a single brow raised. "In that case, I'll be sure to be offended on your behalf and curse the tits off of anyone stupid enough to say such ridiculous things. See how long it keeps up when I start wiping insignificant wizards and witches off of the soles of my boots."

"As the Director of Magical Law Enforcement, I have to warn you, if you were to declare a war on anyone, it'd be a nightmare to contain. As your wife, I'd say they brought it entirely on themselves." She sniffed, sparing a withering glance at the Lord Fleming, who flushed and looked away.

Dantis barked out a quick laugh, clapping a hand against his thigh before inching closer to Sirius. "Are you sure I couldn't steal her away, Sirius? You know how I do love a mean witch."

"Your wife knows well enough how much you like mean witches." Sirius answered the man, dryly. "Is that why she's not here? Did you get yourself in trouble again?"

Dantis scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. "Oh no, nothing like that – she just decided to visit our children at Beauxbatons. Just entered their fourth year." The large man frowned after a moment, staring off into space. "Never have twins, Sirius. Never."

Sirius snorted and rolled his eyes. "I have the Weasley twins as my Wards – that's more than enough for me, thank you."

"They're lovely boys." Amelia admonished him with a light tap to the back of his wrist. "Be nice."

"Lovely to you, perhaps, my dear, but a walking, talking source of stress and anxiety to the students of Hogwarts."

Beyond the canopy of the box, the noise of the crowd reached a whole new height, and only a moment later, as the other members of the Board, and their families, settled into the chairs quickly, just as the honey-coloured cloaks of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team flew past, bedecked in study Quidditch armour, protective facemasks for the cold and the rain, and thick goggles.

Behind him, he heard Lord Loghain Dinan settle into his chair beside his wife. Sirius glanced behind him only long enough to nod once at the blonde man in the grey doublet, before turning back to the view of the pitch.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Lady Ceana Chapman settling in beside Amelia, her long, red hair loose and pulled over a single shoulder, much like his wife's own – the two women offering quiet greetings to one another.

Lady Ceana was a pleasant woman, and her thick, Irish accent was more than charming – not that he'd ever say as much aloud; the woman had a temper that rivalled Lily's own legendary one and he had no intentions of ever being set on fire ever again.

Amelia continued to murmur quietly with her friend, the Chapman's were Bannermen of House Greengrass, and also worked at the Ministry of Magic in Amelia's department as a Legal Prosecutor; in fact, Sirius had been in many a Wizengamot session where she had worked to convict criminals of all types.

The box was missing two members of the Board, he noticed, after one last surreptitious glance; neither Augusta, nor Lord Dowsett were in attendance – Augusta he wasn't surprised in the least, her dislike of the sport was legendary ever since Frank had been thrown from his broom by a Bludger. Lord Dowsett, however, was an ardent fan of the sport.

"I don't have a clue where he is, either." Dantis muttered, his index finger of his right hand idly tracing the dip between his bottom lip and his chin as he leaned against the arm of the chair. Sirius raised his eyebrows at the man, though he didn't say anything more. "Enjoy the game, Black – I've got good money on your boy carrying the Lions to victory."

"Amos's lad is supposed to be quite the Seeker, Lord Whitehill." Ceana said, from the far side of Amelia. "It'll be a close game regardless, what with the weather – you mark my words."

The Hufflepuff team flew past one last time before they settled into formation on their half of the pitch. Moments later, cheers went up in the stadium once more as the crimson robes of Gryffindor flew past, all of them arranged in a V-shaped formation.

Sirius leapt to his feet, his hands gripping the railing tightly as he peered through the abysmal weather for his son – it took him a moment, but he'd recognise his boy anywhere, flying just behind the team captain. He looked good, or, as good as he possibly could look, flying in the rain, covered in a mask and armour.

Behind him, Dantis clapped cheerfully, cheering with the other Gryffindors in the stands below them – he caught sight of Hagrid, standing out like a sore thumb in the sea of children, a black umbrella held over his head, large enough to shield the worst of the storm from the closest of the children.

"Go, go, Gryffindor! Go, go, Gryffindor!"

"Nothing brings students together quite like Quidditch." Amara drawled among the din, though her voice could still be heard, despite it.

Sirius said nothing, instead, wincing as a fork of lightning struck just beyond the pitch, blackening the ground. Gryffindor took their positions, and Sirius noted that it wasn't just Hooch that was managing the match, but the other instructors they'd hired to supplement the staff – not that he could make out their faces or features, so far and spread out across the pitch were they.

Hooch stepped onto the pitch, and moments later, the Quaffle was released, and the game was underway.

Sirius returned to his seat as the game began in earnest, the Chasers dodging and weaving this way and that, the Beaters smashing the Bludger into opposing formations, and the two Seekers doing their level best to assist the team while searching for the elusive Golden Snitch.

He sank into the plush padding and watched his boy with a careful eye – hours passed, and still the game was still caught in that same fervent fever as when it had begun; the students continued to chant, cheer, and stomp to a steady rhythm, and those in the box talked quietly among themselves while watching the game.

Sirius himself was content to discuss the upcoming budgeting review for the new year with both Dantis and Loghain, while Amelia was more than happy to chat with Ceana, and from what little he overheard, the two were discussing the public details of some case or another that the two were working on.

Amara and Odis, however, were remarkably quiet during the event, the two doing little more than making passing grunts of agreement when brought into the conversation – something that Sirius was more than relieved about.

Prior to his inclusion on the Board of Governors, the Board had largely been split evenly between both Lady Kullens, and Lady Longbottom, as they had been the two most influential members of society at the time.

Augusta had done what she could with the Board, and much like the Wizengamot, she had attempted to make Hogwarts into a better place – there had been some results of her efforts; more Muggle-born had been offered places within the most prestigious school in Britain than ever before through various charities and donations – House Longbottom was the single largest sponsor of Muggle-born in the country.

But not everything she had suggested had been accepted, for dealing with the Board of Governors was just as much politicking as the Wizengamot – each member had their own goals and ambitions for the school, and that had never been more obvious than with Amara Kullens.

Amara, while a cold bitch and a supporter of the Pureblood agenda, much like the rest of House Kullens had been for hundreds of years, was not her husband – if there was ever a man in the Wizengamot that Sirius had always wanted to meet at wand-point, it was the Lord Kullens. The cold and calculating man had, through the subtleties of politics, publicly espoused the views of Voldemort during the height of the war.

The matriarch of the Kullens family had used her husband's power and influence to promote several changes to the school in her years on the Board, cutting funding here, closing a club that had been run by Muggle-borns there; she and Augusta had been locked in a constant battle of Wills.

With the ejection of Lucius from the Board, a man that, even in the short time of having to work together, Sirius had barely tolerated, Amara had lost her staunchest supporter, and the House of Black became the most influential member of their small group, for while House Kullens held power, prestige, and wealth, House Black held more.

Lord Fleming stuck to Amara, content to support her in as many ways as possible – how Lord Locke could stand to have a man like that sworn to his House boggled his mind – while the others, such as Dantis Whitehill, Loghain Dinan – glum bastard that he was – and Monroe Dowsett were content to support his and Augusta's decisions, now that they didn't have to concern themselves with the threat of House Kullens.

Augusta, and Ceana Chapman, who was sworn to House Greengrass and already a natural ally through House Black's alliance with her own Lord, were the natural allies and the pillars upon which he'd made his sweeping changes to the school.

Evidently, the increased number of professors at the school was working, and more students than ever were succeeding in their classes; apparently only the students taught by old Twinkle himself were falling asleep in History of Magic, now!

There were other changes he wanted to make to the school that had been such a big part of his childhood, that had been a home-away-from-home for he and James, and a place that he knew Harry was beginning to see in the same light, even if his boy was a little slow on the uptake on occasion.

He wanted to introduce new sports leagues, expand the curriculum, modernise some of the facilities, invite more Muggle-born to the school, and offer apprenticeships to graduates. All of this and more, but first, he needed to make sure the Board would approve those decisions, which, unfortunately, meant playing politics at every given opportunity.

"Diggory's spotted the Snitch!" Dantis said, suddenly, darting to the railing before them and gripping it tightly – Sirius winced at the sight and felt a pang of sympathy for the bar in the man's grip. "Your boy is right behind him, Sirius!"

Sirius got to his feet once again and ran a hand down the front of his doublet as he stepped up beside the large man, Amelia appeared at his side in an instant, her arm wrapping itself around his own, and her head resting upon his shoulder. "It's going to be close – they're neck and neck." She murmured as the two boys blew past the Gryffindor stands below just as Hagrid lost his grip on his large umbrella.

The two Seekers looped around the Hufflepuff hoops, a bolt of lightning setting the bristles of one of the Gryffindor Chasers' broom on fire; Sirius winced as she spiralled out of control, narrowly avoiding colliding with Harry in the process – the assembled groans of the students below them as she impacted the pitch were echoed by those in the box, or at least, those that were paying attention to the match.

Sirius kept his eye on Harry as he barrelled through the air after the Diggory boy, straight past the Headmaster's box on the far side of the pitch. Sirius frowned and licked his lips as Harry disappeared out of view, the angry clouds swallowing him whole.

Below them, the game continued apace, the Weasley twins were busy with the Bludgers, and the Gryffindor Chasers were down a player until their reserve could take to the pitch, though it seemed everyone in the stadium knew that the game would be over shorty – the scores were neck and neck; whoever got to the Snitch first would decide the game.

He glanced at Amelia beside him, who smiled and rubbed his arm as reassuringly as she could – his concern for Harry was transparent, not that he was making any effort to conceal it in the slightest. He smiled slightly in return and pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head and took a moment to enjoy the smell of her perfume, and the shampoo she favoured.

"Something's happening." Dantis murmured, pointing to the clouds above them – the rain had turned to something between sleet and snow, and the clouds had grown ominously darker, angry forks of lightning briefly lighting up the inside, and yet, he could make nothing out as he squinted up at where the large man was pointing.

His breath fogged before his face, and his limbs grew cold just as his eyes widened.

Dementors.

Sirius snapped his head to Amelia, who already had her wand in hand and the spell on her lips. "Expecto Patronum!" She called, a brilliant burst of light erupted from her wand and took the form of a Great Horned Owl before it took off with a loud hoot and toward the dark clouds high above.

Around the stadium, similar creatures charged the clouds – some galloped into the air, while others flew, slithered, swam, and crawled; Dumbledore's was the most brilliant, a large silver Phoenix bursting into existence, though Sirius noted it too, like Fawkes, was smaller than Clara.

The Phoenix itself burst into existence just beneath the clouds as she joined with the many Patronus creatures that charged into battle; there was silence on the pitch, the players having stopped mid-game at the sight of the silvery creatures, and the chanting of the students had stopped, instead, their murmuring and hushed voices were drowned out by the heavy fall of the rain and the ominous, muffled booms in the sky above them.

A scream wrenched the air, and Sirius felt his heart clench in his chest as Harry broke through the lowest crowd, wrapped in the arms of a Dementor; Clara was on the Dementor's back, clawing and tearing what she could, despite the fact the creature that held his son didn't so much as flinch.

Harry was struggling as best he could – punching the Dementor in the face over and over, while his legs and knees struck it just as often; he wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, the weather, or just one of the many effects a Dementor had on the world around it, but Sirius could have sworn there was a light, silvery mist around his right fist each time he cracked the Dementor in what counted as its jaw.

Dumbledore's Phoenix appeared once again, diving out of the clouds, and latching itself onto the back of the Dementor – the creature, if that was what it could even be called, screamed in agony and released Harry, Clara diving after him instantly.

The Dementor and the Phoenix threw themselves at one another with a vicious, reckless abandon. Clara managed to latch on to the front of Harry's armour with her claws and beat her wings furiously, but by then, the ground was too close.

Sirius felt the air rush from his lungs at the sound of the impact in the middle of the pitch, a brief, brilliant flash of crimson magic swept the pitch, and suddenly, all was quiet. He wasted no time, throwing himself over the railing and pushing his magic into his legs as he fell through the air – the spell that he had used to protect both himself and Amelia hours before a distant memory as the rain immediately soaked him to the bone.

He crouched on the landing, rolling forward and shifting immediately into Padfoot – he pumped his legs, all four of them, and took off at a sprint toward his son; his muscles burned with a tension that had nothing to do with the sudden leap into action.

The rain soaked his fur, and after only a couple of bounds, he was furiously blinking the dripping water from his eyes. Once he was close enough to Harry, he shifted back into his true form and slid along the muddy grass on his knees to his son's side, his fingers immediately ripping the cloth mask from his face with a quick tug. With the garment removed, his fingers sought out a pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he found one.

Andromeda was at his side in an instant, similarly soaked to the bone in her Healer's uniform, and immediately casting spell after spell on Harry's prone form. He threw her a questioning look and breathed a sigh of relief when she motioned he could hold him.

Sirius didn't hesitate, immediately gathering his boy up in his arms, and drawing him to his chest, tugging the heavy goggles free with one hand, while the other pushed the soaked hair from his brow. He rocked Harry back and forth while Andromeda did her spells, a crowd forming around the two of them – Remus, Dumbledore, and Amelia fighting their way to the front, Harry's friends barely a pace behind them.

"Is he-" Neville began, the words catching in his throat – everyone in the magical world, that knew of Dementors, knew just what it meant to end up in the arms of one; and he'd been reassured by both Remus and Albus that both had made sure that all of the students of Hogwarts knew the dangers of their pseudo-protectors.

"He's alive." Sirius murmured, more to himself than to the boy across from him. "He's alive."


It was with a groan that Sirius entered the Hospital Wing the following morning – he'd stayed the night at Harry's bedside, and had only ducked out of the room long enough to relieve himself in one of the nearby bathrooms; Remus had darted into the Wing's bathroom just before he'd managed to get to his feet.

Amelia had returned home soon after the match to alert her department to the situation; for a Dementor, which had been stationed at the school under the guise of protecting the students to have managed to get close enough to one of those very students to have nearly kissed them… well, the ramifications of the Minister's decision would be felt for the rest of his career.

So many of the next generation of the nobility attended Hogwarts, and none would look too kindly, regardless of their political inclinations, to the possibility that it could have been their heir, or their child in the clutches of the vile creatures.

That it had been Harry, of all students, placed even more pressure on the Minister – after all, despite having not been declared to the public, the Dementors were partly there to protect Harry and to drive Fenrir Greyback out and into the open. When Amelia had returned, in much more comfortable clothes than the dress she'd been wearing, he'd gotten all the details from his wife about how the news had been received.

Many in the Ministry were furious that their precious Boy-Who-Lived had been in such close contact to a Dementor; the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in particular had been in an uproar, Aurors demanding shifts be placed around the school and the removal of the Dementors from both the school and Hogsmeade.

The Minister's office had issued a quick statement, announcing their regret that such a tragic thing had occurred, but were also heartened to hear that Harry was alright – though he still hadn't woken up since he'd impacted the ground; all in all, the Minister had said absolutely nothing while spouting a great number of words.

Sirius had come so incredibly close to declaring open war on the stupid man.

Luckily, those around him were made with more level heads, and cooler tempers. Remus counselled patience, making sure to talk with him at length long into the evening the previous night – the two of them planned and plotted; it hadn't, in hindsight, been much different from their days in their little shared common room, when the Marauders would huddle around a piece of parchment and plan their next prank.

Dumbledore had soothed his anger also, declaring that he would get to the bottom as to why and, more importantly, how the Dementors got inside the perimeter of the school – the Wards of Hogwarts were the stuff of legend, with only a few ancestral seats in Britain from the oldest of families having anything comparable; both Blackwall and Rosestone sprang to mind, as well as Long Valley Keep, the home of the Longbottoms.

The Headmaster had sat with them for quite some time, staring ponderously at the slumbering form of Harry, who, in Sirius's opinion, had looked far too small and pale against the sheets of the hospital bed. Harry had continued to look pale, his lips coloured blue, and dark circles had ringed his eyes; occasionally, his eyelids would flutter, and he would moan and groan in his sleep, but beside those few, rare occurrences, Harry did not stir.

Sirius had considered the Headmaster at some length during the evening and the long, quiet night, while Remus dozed with his head resting by Harry's hand on the far side of the bed, and while Amelia had snored softly with her head propped against his shoulder.

There had been a time when Sirius trusted the old wizard with almost everything – he'd have never trusted anyone other than James and Lily with Harry fully, but he'd most certainly trusted the old man with his own life more than once during the last war; especially when he'd signed up to the Order.

Dumbledore had largely been pushed from his mind in the years before Harry had joined the school – so wrapped up had they all been in teaching Harry, in raising the boy, and simply trying to be a family that the wizened old man had been barely a thought outside of the Wizengamot.

But the events of Harry's first year, a year where he should have been able to return home full of excitement and anticipation, of stories of pranks he'd gotten up to with his friends, and which of the girls in his year he thought the prettiest, hadn't been anything like his own first year.

Oh, it had mostly gone along without much of anything going wrong, but there had been enough that had left Sirius furious. The Troll had been the first – at the time, everyone had been perplexed as to how a Mountain Troll, a creature that roamed Eastern Europe had managed to find itself, again, past the legendary Wards of Hogwarts.

When he'd received the news that Harry had been seriously injured, Sirius, Arcturus, and Remus had spent every waking moment they could spare at Harry's bedside. Arcturus had been the first to step away, deciding to look into the events that had caused Harry to remain unconscious for two weeks – the man had questioned each of the professors, the Board of Governors, and the Prefects of the school, including the Head Boy and Girl.

Remus had continued to manage the Black and Potter estates, though he'd always made sure to spend as many hours a day as he could at Harry's bedside, while Sirius himself had found himself pulled in several directions – his first instinct was to never leave Harry's side, which, eventually, he was forced to do so. With a little distance between the two of them, and Poppy's continual encouraging comments about Harry's improving health, Sirius had thrown himself at discovering just how a Mountain Troll could enter the country with nobody the wiser.

He'd been in a meeting with the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, who, even now, he couldn't remember the name of, when he'd received the news that Harry had woken up. He'd barely apologised to the man when he'd been halfway out of the door, sprinting through the Ministry at full tilt to get to his son.

Then, there had been the whole thing with the Mirror of Erised – something which they hadn't heard anything about until after the year had been over.

Sirius had known what it was the moment Harry had described it, as had Arcturus. Having a foot in both Britain, and their lands through the Ro'rim meant that they knew more about some obscure artefacts than most did, for their history often pre-dated the creation of many that the Ministry deemed The Lost Arts.

The Mirror of Erised had been one such item – a mirror, designed to torment the user with what they most desired; it was a torture tool, and there were few that still existed – the Council had decreed them all to be destroyed some five-hundred years ago, something he only knew because he'd found a journal of an ancestor in Blackstone Castle during a short visit with Arcturus just before Harry began at the school.

At the time, he'd thought it strange that Harry hadn't written them while they'd been away from Britain, so caught up had he been in the drama surrounding The Great Council and the headaches it had caused.

When Harry had revealed it, at the end of his year and on the first day of his summer over breakfast, Sirius had been startled to see just how closely Arcturus had come to lashing out unconsciously with his magic before storming off to have a go at Dumbledore.

And that hadn't even been the worst of Harry's first year at Hogwarts!

The return of Voldemort had shaken each of them to their cores in different ways – for his boy, it meant the return of the man that was responsible for his nightmares as a child, the man that had robbed him of his parents, and the man that had terrorised their world just before he was born.

For Remus, it had meant that another war would be inevitable – if he somehow managed to find a way to return to his previous strength. The war had been terrible on all of them, turning brother against brother, sister against sister, lover against lover, parent against child. Remus had spent the years they'd participated in the war on the front lines, fighting Voldemort's followers with everything he had, and when he hadn't, he'd tried to ingratiate himself into the Werewolf packs at Dumbledore's request, if only to get a few to join their struggle.

Arcturus had seemed more powerful than ever, and for the first time in Sirius's life, he caught a glimpse of the man that had marched off to war under Dumbledore against Grindelwald – he'd seen the powerful warrior that had been present in the fighting that had ended the war, and not the adept politician he'd become. That wasn't to say Arcturus hadn't always been powerful and more than a little intimidating when he'd wanted to be, but there had been something about it that had stuck out to him – like an old warrior picking up his weapon for one last battle.

There had never been any doubt in Sirius's mind that Arcturus had planned on facing Voldemort head-on, possibly himself, if he'd have ever gotten the chance. Arcturus had always been a fighter – Sirius had always known that – and the only reason he hadn't declared House Black in opposition to Voldemort in the last war had been his health; while Arcturus wasn't the man he had once been, Sirius suspected that he still would've been more than dangerous on a battlefield – especially if it he was there to protect Harry.

For Sirius, it had meant the breaking of a promise he'd made to his boy. A promise that he'd made to a small boy, curled up in his arms, shaken by the removal of something dark from his very flesh. Sirius still had little idea what it could have been; the three of them had tried researching possibilities over the years, and still, they had come up with nothing. It had broken his heart to hear of Voldemort's return, and the fear, as hidden as it had been, in Harry's eyes.

Then, there had been the bloody Basilisk.

If there was ever a time when Sirius had doubted Harry's placement in Gryffindor, the events surrounding Ruhxu, as Harry called it, had completely washed them away – for no student at the school would be so reckless, so brazen, and so courageous, as to charge after a thousand-year-old snake in the hopes of rescuing another student – the unofficial motto, Gryffindors Charge, no doubt had an image of Harry right below it in Hogwarts: A History. He'd have to get Hermione to check.

It had been clear that Harry's second year at the school hadn't been pleasant – Harry's increasingly frayed temper had been evident all of the summer, and between the unfortunate incident with Lucius's son, and his outing as a Parselmouth, the entire school had marginalised him and his mood had spiralled.

Perhaps Sirius should've noticed it sooner, or at the very least, intervened earlier than he did – but at the end of the day, he hadn't. Harry hadn't confided in any of the adults that surrounded him, and, from what little he'd managed to gleam from his friends, he'd done as much with his friends too.

As such, when Sirius had seen Harry in that bloody hospital bed at the end of the year again, he'd been beside himself – only the comforting presence of Remus, Amelia, and Andromeda had kept him grounded, and he thanked his lucky stars for having such people around him.

The summer had seen Harry happier than he'd ever seen him, and for that Sirius had been thankful – he'd caught glimpses of the boy he'd once been, before the disaster on the road that first time travelling to Arpton, and the events of his first year. The time they'd spent at Blackwall had seen him laughing and smiling more than ever before, and there had even been a sprinkling of some not-so-subtle pining that had warmed his heart.

He'd looked so much like James when he'd first seen Lily – but for the long hair and the lack of glasses, of course – that for a moment, he'd thought he was looking at his best friend, returned from the grave. It had been the breath of normalcy they'd all needed, and secretly, despite the wager between friends, Sirius couldn't have been happier for the boy.

And now, the debacle with the Dementors threatened to undo all of that progress Harry had made – oh, Sirius knew quite well the effects a Dementor could have on the toughest of wizards and witches; during the war, he'd narrowly escaped a Dementor's clutches when one had strayed too closely to the coast, drawn by the population of those that lived on the west-coast of Scotland in the winter of nineteen-eighty.

They brought, quite literally, the worst out in people – torturing them with their worst moments, all the while feeding on the victim's magic until there was nothing left but a hollow shell. Why Fudge had ever entertained the idea of stationing them around the school, he couldn't say.

He heaved a deep sigh as he approached Harry's bed, sinking into the chair he'd vacated only minutes before and threading his fingers around Harry's own, the pads of his thumbs idly tracing back and forth against the cold skin of his knuckles. At the head of the bed, Clara sat, her wicked talons wrapped around the metal frame of the bed, and her black eyes watched him with a terrifying intensity.

A decision needed to be made once Harry awoke – though a decision about what, he couldn't quite work out – he could remove Harry from Hogwarts, that much was the obvious choice, but it would break the heart of his boy, and the hearts of his friends; though he doubted that they would stay long at the school themselves, the only one without the means to follow Harry anywhere was the lovely Miss Granger, though he was sure he'd be able to come to an agreement with her parents. Perhaps he could sponsor her education – it would certainly open some doors for whatever career she chose for herself.

Another option was to leave him at the school but equip him with the knowledge and the ability to defend himself should he ever find himself too close to a Dementor again. Harry was powerful, ridiculously so, but the Patronus Charm was a spell that not even many adults could manage – it had been sheer dumb luck that so many as the twelve that had cast the spell at the match had known the spell.

Personally, Sirius wanted nothing more than to carry Harry off to Blackwall, or better yet, Arpton, wrap him in cotton and tell the world to kiss his arse – something he knew would never be possible; and yet, he could dream.

Beside him, Amelia was curled up on another chair, pushed up against his own, snoozing quietly with a blanket draped over her. She was in a loose, breathable blouse, and a pair of trousers that she liked to wear around the house – the toes of her black socks poked out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, which caused her to murmur unintelligibly and scrunch her nose in the most adorable way as she tugged the blanket a little higher. Across the way, past the far side of Harry's bed, the door to the bathroom opened, and Remus appeared; his face was a little damp, no doubt from having splashed some water against it.

"Any change?" Remus asked, dropping into the chair on the far side of the bed, his voice low as his eyes darted between Amelia and Harry. Clara cawed softly and her wings fluttered.

Sirius shook his head and blew out a sigh. "Not since I got back – I've only just sat down, honestly."

"He looks so pale."

His eyes darted to Harry's face; the boy had always been pale, a curse that had been handed down from his father – James had never been able to get a tan, no matter how much he'd tried – but it was so much worse now. Despite knowing that Harry was, in fact, fine, he looked little more than a corpse, with only the soft rise and fall of his chest proving otherwise. "When was Andromeda getting back again?" He asked, pressing his lips tightly together.

"How long since she left? An hour?" Remus frowned, casting a quick Tempus. "Merlin, it feels longer. I'd expect her back any moment then."

Sirius nodded slowly, and the two of them sat in silence for a time; when Sirius had walked into the long, vaulted room, the faint orange glows of sunrise had barely been peeking over the horizon through the tall windows, and soon, the entire room was filled with the warm morning light.

He grimaced as a cloud slowly drifted past the sun, which had made its presence well-known after the abysmal weather the day before and held his hand up to shield his eyes momentarily – for once, Harry had been arranged so that he could look out on the grounds of Hogwarts, or, at least, as best as he'd be able to once he woke up.

Remus, annoyingly, was unfazed by the morning rays, though they did more easily reveal the tiredness in his eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "You should get some sleep." He said, levelling a pointed look at his friend. "Your sleep schedule is abysmal enough as it is, and you need to make sure you're not too tired for your classes tomorrow."

"And you have a meeting with Lord Greengrass tomorrow, so don't give me that." Remus huffed.

Sirius narrowed his eyes as he regarded his friend. "Which one of the Elves ratted me out to you?"

"I'll never reveal my sources, Padfoot." Moony sniffed, though he smiled fondly. "Seriously, you need to get some sleep – everyone knows what happened, I'm sure, and I can't think any of your allies would think any less of you."

"I think the two of you both need to get some sleep, before I assign you both beds." Andromeda huffed as she appeared at the bottom of the bed, a clipboard in one hand, a quill in the other, and her wand tucked behind an ear. "Don't think I won't do it, either." She added, imperiously.

"I'll sleep when he wakes up." Sirius grunted, braving her withering glare with all of the Gryffindor courage he could muster.

"You aren't the Lord Black in this room, Sirius – you're in my domain. If I tell you that you'll sleep, you'll bloody-well do it, do I make myself clear?"

Remus chuckled on the far side of the bed, though it quickly turned into a quiet cough when Sirius glared at his friend.

"And you," She began, turning her ire on their resident professor, who overcame his coughing quite suddenly. "Should know better. You have classes to teach tomorrow – he's in the best care possible between the four of us here; you'd only be getting in our way if you don't get enough sleep and we're forced to look after your arse as well."

"Any of the Healers that you'd suspect of wanting to look after dear Remus than the others, Andromeda? My money was on that pretty blonde, but-"

"Sirius!" Remus hissed, glaring at him. "I hardly think now is the time to-"

"What's this I hear about Professor Lupin's arse?" Healer Worner asked, appearing at Andromeda's side. "I've finished up everything in the office – will you be alright?" She asked, looking to Andromeda, who nodded sharply. "And for the record, Black…" The petite Healer continued, as she turned to look at him, holding up a hand and wiggling her fingers, around one of which, was a ring. "I'm married, so you've made a safe bet on that one, I think."

"Merlin!" Remus moaned into his hands as he sank down in his chair. Sirius grinned, despite everything, there was a strange feeling of relief that swept through him at the familiar teasing of his friend.

Andromeda arched a brow at the two of them, while Healer Worner offered a quick, casual wave, before walking out of the room, yawning tiredly into the back of her hand. "All joking aside, you two – get some sleep. I've taken a double-shift, so I'll wake you the second something changes."

Reluctantly, Sirius agreed, as did Remus, who declared he'd sleep in his quarters and stood with a yawning stretch, not too dissimilar to the side of him that was the canine. His eyes were more amber than usual, almost golden, in fact, and revealed just how tired the man was. Sirius got to his feet and walked him out of the hospital, an arm slung around the taller man's shoulders and sent him on his way with a promise to get some rest himself and a gentle slap on the back.

When he returned to Harry's bedside, Andromeda had meandered over to the office, which had a window that looked out onto all of the beds and had busied herself with some task or another in there. Amelia was still curled up in the chair, and Clara continued to stand watch over her wizard. He considered his options before shifting into Padfoot and hopping onto the foot of the bed; he circled once, and plopped down with a whine, his head propped against his front paws.

A large yawn later, one that was all teeth and large tongue, and Sirius – Padfoot – was fast asleep.

When he awoke, it was to the sound of someone reading – their voice was clear and crisp, and held a distinctly southern accent that would be quite common around London and the surrounding towns and cities.

His left ear twitched first, flopping slightly at the movement, and he opened his eyes with long, slow blinks as he took the narrator in – it was Hermione, perched on the edge of the chair Remus had vacated, and a copy of Hogwarts: A History spread across her lap.

Around her, others were settled in quite comfortably – some small tables had been arranged, and more than one person was distracting themselves with homework. Neville had his nose buried in a book, that was no doubt about Herbology, which came as no surprise, Daphne was helping Astoria with her work, the younger Greengrass idly kicking her feet back and forth under the table, while her deep frown, and the fact her bottom lip was in the process of being quite thoroughly chewed. Tracey, like Neville, had her nose in a book, and was busy scratching away with her quill on a long piece of parchment, a small tower of books next to her – Susan sat across from her, the two murmuring quietly between themselves over something.

The others were a much bigger surprise – both of the Weasley twins were sat nearby, their usual red hair dyed a brilliant shade of Slytherin green, Cedric Diggory was also there; he looked pale and haggard. There were others too – the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and a few faces he wasn't familiar with, though he recognised Cai Griffin, and the pale, blonde girl looked vaguely familiar.

He looked to his right, and saw Amelia sitting in her chair, her legs folded and a book of her own in her lap; she was already looking at him, equal parts amused, sympathetic, and exasperated. "Good morning, Padfoot." She said, dryly.

Sirius – Padfoot – huffed and got to his paws slowly, stretching languidly as he yawned, the sight of the now awake Grim startling one or two of the members of the room that weren't as close to the bed. He hopped off the bed and transformed in one fluid motion, landing as a human. He groaned as he twisted his back this way and that, working out the kinks of having slept in his Animagus form; something he hadn't done since Harry was a small boy.

"Wicked." The twins chorused, grinning at him, and offering a joint thumbs up.

"Right, before we get started on anything else." He began, noticing the silence that had fallen on the group – even Hermione had stopped reading. "Why do you two have green hair?" He asked, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Oh, quite a tale that is."

"Pretty devious, if we do say so."

"Never thought he had it in him."

"Though it can't be denied that it was completely justified."

"Boys, boys, boys, I've just woken up." Sirius moaned, wiping a tired hand down his face.

The two boys looked at one another, shrugged in unison before looking back at him, and at the same time declared, "Harry did it."

"I'm sorry – run that by me one more time?" He whined, slumping into the chair he'd previously occupied, pointedly ignoring Amelia's quiet chuckles to his side.

"Our resident Seeker and Basilisk slayer got us back for something that was entirely benign and unfortunate, if we do say so ourselves." One of the twins began – Sirius had no idea which was Fred, and which was George.

"We were aiming for our brother, Percy – rule-following git that he is."

"But George here got the bags mixed up."

"What Fred means to say, is that his communication skills leave something to be desired."

Sirius rubbed at his forehead tiredly and sighed. In a strange sort of way, it was his own fault, really – he'd encouraged the antics of the Weasley twins from the moment they'd become his Wards, and he'd never quite regretted that quite so much as he did in that moment.

"Oh, do shut up." Daphne snapped, glaring at the two boys, who paled quite visibly. Sirius looked at the raven-haired Slytherin, before glancing at his wife, who shrugged a single shoulder. "I hardly think now is the time for your little back and forth. Harry got them back for hiding his school bag with a spell – the same spell these two used to hide the dungeon bathrooms. He's potioned their hair green in revenge; though the fact it's Slytherin green is mildly insulting to those of us with the cunning and ambition that define our House." She sniffed, folding her arms and legs crossly as she levelled a glare at the two Weasleys.

"Careful there, Miss Greengrass."

"Someone might think you're unleashing that pent up aggression on us because you're worried."

"Wouldn't want to lose that stone-cold reputation you've worked so hard for, now, would you?"

"Don't try me." Daphne ground out, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Not even the remaining Marauders have dared test me."

"Look, we're all tired, and we're all worried – snapping at each other isn't going to help." Cedric announced, looking between the three students. "I'm sorry, about yesterday, Lord Black – I thought Harry was right behind me, but we got separated."

Sirius waved a hand and shook his head as he adjusted his doublet. "It's not your fault – you did what you thought was best in the moment, I'm sure. Dementors aren't to be taken lightly."

"Why did they go after him?" Astoria asked, her fists balled in her lap as she fidgeted.

He blew out a breath and combed his fingers through his hair as he glanced at the boy in the bed – Clara continued to watch the goings on, though she made little indication one way or another on her mood. "Harry's suffered more than most would think, even before coming to Hogwarts. The Dementors were likely drawn to him because of that, though how they got onto the school grounds is still a mystery the Headmaster is looking into." He smiled, what he hoped was reassuringly, at the young girl. "He'll be alright, Astoria."

"Of course he will be." The familiar blonde girl said from the back of the group. She tilted her head as everyone turned to look at her. "He's Harry Potter." She said, as if that solved everything.

"I'm sorry – what's your name?" Sirius found himself asking, blinking the tiredness from his eyes.

"Luna Lovegood."

"Ah," Sirius nodded, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. "I'm sure he will be – why don't you all go and get something to eat, and I'll let you all know when he's up and about?"

The students all looked at one another, and Cai looked like he was about to protest, though Sirius managed to halt it before it had even begun with a single raised brow. Slowly, one by one, each of the students nodded and gathered their things before trickling from the room – though not a single one of Harry's group so much as twitched a muscle.

He looked at Daphne once the last had made their way out of the hospital and levelled a disapproving look at the girl. "There was no need for that."

"You didn't have to sit through them doing it for three hours." Tracey huffed, rubbing an eye with the back of her hand. "Bloody justified as far as I'm concerned."

"It was getting a bit much." Susan grimaced, biting her lip as her eyes darted between himself and Amelia.

"Regardless, it doesn't pay to antagonise anyone, much less those that are considered Wards of House Black." Amelia added, closing her book, and settling herself more comfortably in her chair. "You of all people should know better, Daphne."

"I-" She began, jutting out her chin.

Sirius spoke over her, however. "It's hard, seeing him like this – but he will get better. The important thing is that he's alive. How do you think he'd feel if he woke up and everyone around his bed was arguing and at each other's throats?"

Neville pushed his book away from him and ran both his hands through his hair, huffing out a breath as he did so. "Admit it, Daphne, you were being a bit of an arse there – you know they mean well. You can fool everyone else, but you can't fool us; you've gotten snappy when you're upset since we were kids."

"You're still kids." Sirius pointed out, scratching his chin absently. "What time is it?" He asked, glancing at the window and then at his wife.

"A little past lunch – I can go and grab something if you're hungry?" She offered, getting to her feet. "Gives me an excuse to stretch my legs, at least."

"Please." He smiled, reaching out and squeezing her hand. "Might be worth waking Moony up, too."

Amelia nodded and gave a squeeze back. "I'll see what I can find." She said, before making her way from the room.

With his wife gone in search of food and Remus, Sirius regarded the children before him with a curious eye – all were out of uniform, it being a Sunday after all, though there had been one among their group that had remained conspicuously quiet throughout it all. "I take it," He began, glancing at Hermione. "that you're keeping the tradition alive?"

Hermione nodded, the curls of her loose hair bouncing with the movement. "It helps me from wearing a hole in the floor." She said, smiling, though there was little humour in it.

"It's weirdly relaxing, actually." Neville snorted. "I've got more homework done today than I have in the entire year."

Hermione blushed, and Sirius noted her hand absently going to a pendant around her neck as she glanced back at the occupant of the bed. He frowned as he looked a little closer. "Is that something Harry gave you?" He asked, squinting slightly. "It looks familiar."

"This?" Hermione asked, bashfully. "It was a birthday gift." She murmured, and Sirius caught the smirks between Daphne and Tracey, while Susan and Neville looked at Hermione, confused – Astoria pursed her lips and frowned.

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly and shifted in her chair, holding the wolf's head up for him to see – it glinted in the early afternoon light, and the green emeralds in its eyes sparkled beautifully. He knew it had looked familiar – Harry had purchased it on their trip to Cochenwaith, though it had been a bracelet at the time.

"Oh yes, I recognise it now. He has good taste, our Harry." Sirius smiled sitting back in his chair and folding his legs at the knee. "He got that from his mother – James had terrible taste." He added, scrunching his nose.

"Aye, he hung out with you." Neville snorted, and ducked when Tracey and Susan clipped him over the back of his head. "Hey!" He groused, glaring at the two girls.

Sirius chuckled, and was about to say more when Harry stirred, his legs moving slowly and his eyes scrunching tightly as his brow creased. Sirius was on his feet instantly, his hand quickly grasping Harry's own limp digits. "Dobby!" Sirius called, the usually excitable Elf appeared, though he was quite clearly subdued and upset, though his eyes widened at the sight of Harry's stirring form.

"Lord Black bes calling for Dobby?" He asked, hopping from foot to foot. "Is Master Harry Potter Sir feeling better?"

"I think he's waking up – I need you to go and tell Remus and Amelia, alright?" Sirius said. The Elf nodded and disappeared with a crack – Sirius looked at the children on the far side of the bed and swept his eyes over each of them. "One of you go and get Andromeda – now!"

Daphne was the first to her feet, quickly followed by Astoria, the two of them racing toward the office. Hermione, Neville, Tracey and Susan crowded the other side of the bed, each of them watching as Harry slowly came around.

"'Ermione?" Harry slurred, sleepily, as he blinked his eyes open; he winced against the afternoon light before looking around. "Sirius?"

"Hey there, pup. Take it easy, take it easy." He said, smiling as the relief flooded his system – he knew that Harry would wake up, that he'd recover, but Gods it was good to actually see him come around. "Andromeda will be here in just a moment."

Harry stilled beneath Sirius's hand, nodding lethargically. "The Dementor-" He began, his eyes staring at something beyond the ceiling high above them.

"Shh," Sirius cooed, stepping aside just as Andromeda arrived, her wand in-hand and already casting spells. "The Dementors were taken care of – if you want, we'll talk about when you went through in a minute, alright?"

Harry nodded, though he continued to stare off into space too much for Sirius to be entirely comfortable. He cast a questioning glance at Andromeda, who kept a stony expression – with each spell, she wrote little notes on the clipboard that she'd grasped from the bottom of Harry's bed, her jaw tense.

After what felt like an eternity, Andromeda spoke up, swiping her wand through the air in front of her to dispel her magic. "You'll be right as rain in the next couple of days, Harry." She said, stepping around Sirius and gently brushing her hand against his forehead, carding her fingers through his hair. "There's a few lingering effects, and you'll probably be more than a little tired for the coming week, but you'll be fine just so long as you take it easy – I want to keep you here until the morning, just to be sure."

Harry nodded, almost drunkenly, as he turned to look up at Andromeda.

"I'd also suggest you discuss whatever it was that they made you see – keeping it to yourself won't serve your recovery in the long run." Andromeda added, casting her eyes between Harry and himself. "I can arrange a Mind Healer, if you'd prefer that to one of us."

Harry shook his head, slowly, his brow creasing just as Remus and Amelia burst into the room, and Dobby appeared at the foot of the bed, tugging on his ears agitatedly. "Master Harry Potter Sirs bes awake!" Dobby cried, diving onto the bed and throwing himself at Harry, his little arms wrapping themselves around his chest as best as he was able.

"Dobby, he's just woken up – give him some space." Sirius said, arching a brow at the Elf just as a panting Remus and Amelia arrived at his side. The Elf gave Harry one last squeeze before scrambling back and sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed. "Come on, let's get him comfortable." He said, helping Harry, who was more or less a dead weight, sit up. Andromeda arranged his pillows, and before long, Harry was peering at them – his friends specifically – uncomfortably.

Remus cleared his throat. "Perhaps it might be best if we spoke to Harry first – then you can all catch up, hm?"

The children looked between themselves, and then to Harry, who, minute by minute, was looking much more like himself – Clara, who had shifted to the side along the frame of the bed, nuzzled his cheek affectionately. "Please." Harry whispered, hoarsely.

Each of his friends nodded, each with grim faces, and made their way to the door. "Dobby, why don't you go and make sure they're alright until we let you know they can come back in." Amelia said, smiling kindly at the Elf. "I'm sure Harry would appreciate you looking after his friends." At this the Elf looked between both Amelia and Harry, who nodded once. Dobby straightened, as much as he was able, and disappeared with a resolute nod and a puffed-up chest.

"So," Sirius began, perching himself on the edge of the bed – Amelia settled herself into her chair, and Remus took up his freshly vacated one; Andromeda hovered by the side of his pillows, her hands clasped before her tightly. "Tell us what you want to, Harry – there's no pressure. Merlin knows that I know how bad Dementors can be."

"It's all a little… fuzzy." Harry began, his voice cracking, though it was much stronger than it had been only a few moments before. "But I remember." He said, with a violent shudder.

"Remember what?" Amelia asked, leaning forward, and propping her arms against her knees.

"Godric's Hollow."

Sirius felt the breath in his lungs leave him all at once – he'd imagined the Dementors would have brought up the ambush again, or Voldemort from the first year; after all, that was the form his Boggart had taken during Remus's class, but never this.

"I-" Remus began, only to snap his jaw shut. Both Andromeda and Amelia had their hands over their mouths in horror, their faces having gone pale.

"Gods." Sirius breathed, running a hand down his face. "I can't imagine."

"You wouldn't want to." Harry said, flatly, staring at his hands in his lap. "I can still hear her screaming, if I think about it."

"Lily?" Remus choked, burying his face in his hands for a moment. He looked up sharply, his amber eyes flashing golden as he met Sirius's gaze. "I'm going to gut Fudge; mark my words."

"I don't know what to say, Harry." Sirius said at last, silently agreeing with Remus – if there were ever a walking corpse, it was the current Minister. Sirius gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze. "But I don't need to tell you how much your parents loved you."

"She said that to me – when Dad was downstairs, fighting." Harry sniffed, wiping his eyes with the backs of his wrists. His eyes became hard as he took a breath, and Sirius swallowed at the look in his boy's eyes as he met his gaze. "The rat was there."

"Wormtail." Remus snarled, launching to his feet, teeth bared as he began pacing. "I've changed my mind; I'm gutting the rat first." Remus snapped, eyes flashing in his anger.

"Remus, you need to calm down." Sirius said, raising his eyebrows as he gave his friend a pointed look. "We'll find the rat, and we'll set things right, but this isn't what Harry needs right now."

Harry snorted, and Sirius's gaze swept back to his son. "What I want is to never go through that again. He did it right in front of me, Sirius. There was a flash of green, and then the next thing I know, she's on the floor."

Sirius shared a look with Amelia, both of them swallowing hard. There was only one spell that flashed green light without leaving a mark on a body, and while Sirius had known both had been victims of the Killing Curse, it was something else entirely to hear about it from one so young. There was a very good reason as to why it was considered an Unforgivable.

"I don't want any of those things near me again." Harry said after a quiet moment.

"They won't be. We won't let them near you." Sirius promised, pressing his lips together.

"That's not good enough – you won't always be there; that spell I saw, on the train – that was yours, right?" Harry asked, looking sharply at Remus, who nodded, uncomfortably. "It's for fighting Dementors right? It chases them away?"

"After a fashion." Amelia nodded.

Harry took a deep breath. "Then I want to learn it." His eyes flashed. "And I'm not asking."

Sirius shared a look with the other adults around the bed, their faces revealing nothing – annoyingly – as they all looked to him. He sighed and released Harry's hand to wipe his hands down his face, his thumbs rubbing the corners of his eyes tiredly. "It's a hard spell to learn, Harry – not even all adults can manage it, but, well-" He heaved a sigh. "I think you've earned a right more than anyone in this school to learn it."

"You're aware that those friends of his won't be left out." Andromeda said with a scoff.

"Well, why don't we make it a little club?" Remus suggested, running his hand across his jaw. "There's a few perks to being a professor." He added with a shrug. "I'll let Dumbledore know, and we'll work something out, but I'm warning you Harry – you're an exceptionally talented young boy, but you mustn't get disheartened if you can't manage it this year, do you understand me?"

Harry nodded, that familiar, stubborn set to his jaw that was all James. Not for the first time in the last week, Sirius wondered if he'd made the right decision – after all, there was still time to wrap him up in cotton wool and secret him away to Arpton Keep… wasn't there?