Disclaimer: If you're in need of a refresher, see Chapter Zero.

Author's Notes: Many gigantic thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Your interest in this story is lovely.

My friends keep telling me that Harry's kind of freaky. What do you think?

(Review review review! Tis good karma!)

o.o.o.o

29 August, 1991

3:05 PM

Sirius, Harry, and Remus (he'd decided to accompany them, as with them off the continent he really had no reason to stay himself) had left Remus's house a little before 11 AM. Sirius had needed to keep Harry occupied for a few moments while Remus disappeared -- to cast a few memory charms on the people he'd been renting his cottage from -- and then with a few other deftly concealed bits of magic, they'd got a cab and were off to the airport.

Their flight, prearranged by Dumbledore, had been uneventful and swift; perhaps a bit swifter than it should have been. Sirius and Remus had shared a few smiles and enjoyed having magic in their lives again after so long. Sirius's relief was probably greater, having been away from it for longer, but they both appreciated the sentiment.

Harry, of course, was as uninformed as ever.

Since landing on English soil, as a matter of fact, he'd been remarkably uninterested in anything, except the fact they were in England. He was almost worrisomely excited. Remus smiled a little, watching him, but Sirius's expression darkened.

He was remembering why Harry would be delighted at the prospect of being in England.

The boy had been maybe six years old, and asking about why they moved around so much, and where his parents were. Sirius had explained to him, as best he could, that Harry's parents loved and missed their son very much, but it just wasn't possible for him to live with them just then.

"Someday, Harry, we're going back home."

Harry's small face twisted as he thought. "Where's home?"

"Home is where your parents are," Sirius explained, with a light chuckle.

"Where are they?" demanded Harry.

Sirius tried to laugh again, but he missed Lily and James even more than Harry did. For a moment, it showed on his face. "In England." Then he ended the conversation by leaving the room.

"Are Mum and Dad very far away now?" asked eleven year old Harry, as they went to collect their baggage. He swung his arms excitedly. He was old enough that he didn't need to hold someone's hand in crowded places, but Sirius and Remus still kept him firmly between them when took him anywhere, so Harry's action caused him to whack both men's carryon-bags. Harry laughed, and did it again.

"You know, kid, that we can't take you right to your parents, don't you?" ventured Sirius, who had already mentioned this twice that day. He wanted to be sure, though, that Harry understood they weren't going directly to the Potters' house. Harry nodded, without the delighted expression on his face diminishing one iota.

At the moment, they were watching the turnstile for the rest of their bags, and Sirius decided he could let it go for the time being.

Harry talked about nothing as they gathered the luggage, and smiled a lot more than either man was used to seeing. They were both unspeakably pleased that the boy would finally be allowed to stay with his parents again, and for a moment harbored feelings of displeasure toward Albus Dumbledore for insisting. However, when Harry laughed again, they found they couldn't really be mad at anyone.

They were very glad, even, that Dumbledore had written and told them they shouldn't be around when Lily and James explained to Harry about magic, and how they'd been keeping it from him for years. Harry was not going to be pleased about that -- he detested secrets, and could say so in more than five languages.

One thing Sirius was sure to be glad he was rid of were his weekly 'progress reports' to Dumbledore. He was also, if he let himself consider it, glad to be done writing excessively detailed Harry Letters to Lily and James. It would be a relief when he was back in their care, instead of Sirius's; he'd never intended to have children, but very often in the past ten years it had seemed to him as if he'd been forced to adopt Harry. (And did not, actually, mind that much.)

Sirius shook his head. Now that they were finally back in England, he didn't intend to waste his remaining Harry-time with useless brooding. He'd get to see James soon enough, anyway, the thought of which cheered him up immensely.

At Customs, they were stuck behind a frazzled Bulgarian, attempting to get a couple of oddly shaped packages through, who was being harassed by several officials with raised voices. The poor man was rattling away in rapid Bulgarian, but all of the uniformed men around him were yelling in English.

Sirius groaned; this didn't look like it was going to be cleared up any time soon. He glanced at his watch, and found to his dismay that it was almost evening already. Across the top of Harry's head, Remus sighed his apparent agreement.

Harry, clutching his bags in white knuckled fists, was staring at the drama unfolding before them with wide eyes.

"This never would have happened to us if these people weren't... you-know-whats," Sirius muttered to Remus, sounding more than a little annoyed, and shooting a pointed look at his young charge, who wasn't paying them any attention. "We wouldn't get stuck anywhere if they weren't you-know-whats."

A particularly large customs official hollered extra loudly at the poor Bulgarian, ordering him to do something or other. A thin line of displeasure appeared between Harry's eyebrows.

"Maybe," Remus returned noncommittally. He looked deeply skeptical, and also a little amused at Sirius's impatience. "You never know. They could all want a good look at who we're with."

A finger was pointed harshly at the Bulgarian's face, when he didn't comply quickly enough for the official's tastes, from which the man recoiled slightly. Harry's own finger's flexed sharply on the handles of his bags.

"Ah, you've a point." Sirius started to laugh, at some mental image that he apparently found quite funny. Remus even smiled wryly.

The Bulgarian attempted, with a wail of distress, to prevent the officials from opening one of the oddly shaped packages. He was thrown away roughly, and the particularly large man (who seemed to be in charge) began to threaten him with some apparently very nasty things, of which only the word 'JAIL' could be understood.

Sirius and Remus's attention was called back to these goings on when Harry, beginning to look highly upset, dropped his bags carelessly to the ground. Before they could stop him, he'd started running for the Bulgarian.

"Stop that!" he shouted angrily at the customs officials, "Can't you see he doesn't understand you?"

The officials seemed justifiably startled by this interruption, and didn't do anything for a moment. Harry, however, turned to the Bulgarian, and began speaking to him earnestly.

Remus stood rooted to the spot, his eyes wide. Beside him, Sirius asked in a shocked, barely audible whispered, "When did we teach him Bulgarian?"

The poor harassed man was looking at Harry gratefully and speaking rapidly in his foreign tongue, with the boy nodding along. One of the customs officials had recovered enough to suggest, in a slightly meek tone, that Harry let them deal with the situation (it was their job). Harry shushed her absently with a little wave of his hand.

"I don't think we did," replied Remus, in the same tone. "Or, if we did, we weren't there at the time."

The Bulgarian, looking much calmer, smiled as Harry turned around to translate his words to the Brits. It appeared that the only thing he'd done wrong was not explain something properly, and as he couldn't speak English, this was regrettable but understandable.

Sirius swallowed dryly. "Yeah."

°

29 August, 1991

6:59 PM

A car had been arranged by Dumbledore, through the Ministry of Magic. They were not entirely sure how Albus had convinced the Ministry, but thought it was probably likely that James'd had something to do with it. It was probable, after all, since he was a very prominent official, as the head of the Department of Games and Sports.

And then, there was Harry himself. He was so obvious to the two wizards, though, that they didn't bother mentioning it.

Sirius left Harry with Remus while he went and pretended to acquire the car from a Muggle rental service. (Honestly, this whole business would have been much better if they just could have used magic.)

Their first stop was the house that been arranged for Remus, where they deposited all of the things but Harry's. After leaving Harry with his parents, Remus and Sirius would return to Remus's house, where Sirius would spend the night, before heading over to inspect the house he'd recently inherited from his parents.

They'd settled Harry in the kitchen with a light snack while they brought the luggage in, so he didn't notice whose things they put where. In truth, he was beginning to look a bit tired... This, Sirius knew from experience, was only because he'd been up since before 5 AM, and had only gone to bed around 10 the night before. If it had been completely up to him, the boy would definitely have gotten more sleep at night. But Sirius had realized quite awhile before then that sometimes, Harry simply could not be controlled, where it wasn't absolutely necessary.

In fact, occasionally, Sirius would experience the most unnerving sensation, being suspicious that Harry was actually controlling him. The boy, when he disliked something a little, displayed a passive-aggressiveness that bordered on manipulative. It was very hard to counter, and reminded Sirius excessively of someone else, but he couldn't really pinpoint who.

Most times, though, Harry was a darling to be around, and a joy to teach. Well, all right, Sirius would admit that sometimes he'd do something (usually stupid) and Harry would get mad. And then he would be impossible. It often appeared to Sirius as if Harry resented his godfather for making him angry.

Harry was definitely going to be angry when he discovered what the adults concerned with him had been hiding since he was a baby. Oh yes, he was going to be so very angry...

°

29 August, 1991

7:53 PM

Lily and James Potter were waiting, if not patiently, than at least anxiously to see their son again. The 'few years' that Dumbledore had warned them they might be separated had turned into almost a full decade. James even had a strong hunch that the only reason Harry'd been brought back now was so he could attend Hogwarts.

He didn't care why the boy was back, though. He was just glad his son was back. Home at last.

He waiting by the door, ready to yell out to Lily the moment he saw Remus's car approaching.

Would his son really look as much like his father as he appeared to in all the pictures he and Lily had been sent, James wondered -- he hoped so, but knew that photographs could often be deceptive.

So he waited, and watched.

°

29 August, 1991

8:00 PM

The moment Harry stepped into his parents' house in Godric's Hollow, he was engulfed in an enormous bear hug by a beautiful redheaded woman who smelled like flowers and, for some reason, cookies. He stood very still as this happened, because he wasn't used to being hugged by anyone but Sirius. Eventually, he managed to pat her back awkwardly, and she withdrew to where he could see her smiling face and watering green eyes.

"... Hullo, Mum," he offered a little shyly.

Upon hearing him say this, Lily burst into loud, uncontrollable sobs, and swept Harry up into her arms again. This hug felt even more awkward to Harry, as he hadn't a clue what he'd done to upset her. Besides, she was getting him all wet.

Remus, having witnessed Lily's first hug, had tactfully withdraw into the kitchen from which Lily and James had just come.

"Er," Harry said helplessly, looking to his godfather for help.

Sirius, however, had turned away, toward a wall. Harry couldn't see his face, probably because it was covered by both of his shaking hands, but his shoulders were heaving suspiciously. There was another black haired man, this one wearing glasses, hugging Sirius as if his life depended on it.

As Harry (with child-sized arms around the mother he'd never seen before) watched them, Sirius removed his hands from his face. There was a wetness on his cheeks which proved he'd been crying -- Harry's stomach turned over unpleasantly -- but it was only visible for a second, because he'd buried his face in the other man's shoulder while returning the hug.

The man with his godfather, Harry could see, had very unruly hair and a long face. Harry felt a twinge of something in his chest; this must be his father.

The two men pulled apart abruptly, wiping their faces. Both looked away from each other, trying to pretend they hadn't just broken down in a very unmanly way at the sight of their best friend, after so long apart.

"Oh, my baby," Lily gasped wetly, finally pulling away from Harry. She stared almost hungrily at her son. "Oh, James, just look at him!"

James smiled so broadly Harry thought his face would crack. "In a minute," he told his wife, and pulled Harry into his own hug.

As he expected this one more than his mother's, Harry felt more comfortable in his father embrace, partly since it reminded him very much of hugging Sirius. James smelled differently, of course, and he held Harry a little more tightly, but over all it was very similar. Lily, Harry had discovered, was soft, which neither his father or his godfather was by any means, and it was extremely unnerving.

"There," said James, as he set Harry back on his feet. "Now I can look at him. Good Merlin, son, you look just like me."

"Sirius says so," Harry mumbled, not sure what he was supposed to say. Was he supposed to speak at all? Was he supposed to call his father 'sir'? Was he supposed to agree, out of hand? (Did one normally agree to everything one's parents said?)

'What if I mess up?' he wondered frantically, lowering his troubled gaze to the floor. 'What if I say something they don't like, and they send me away again? Oooh, I don't want them to do that -- Sirius said he hoped he could stay here awhile.'

Sirius caught the badly hidden expression of anxiety on his godson's face, and put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. Harry looked up quickly, and Sirius smiled at him, though he didn't feel it. They'd be saying goodbye soon, and he wasn't sure when he'd get to see the boy again.

"Harry," Lily said warmly, though she still looked uncomfortably teary, "I'm so very glad to have you back again. I've missed you -- Oh! -- so very much."

Harry looked back at the floor.

He wanted to be able to say that he'd missed his parents as much as they seemed to have missed him, but he hadn't known them, and instead of missing them, had longed to meet them.

He shrugged stiffly.

His parents exchanged glances that he couldn't see, and then his father proclaimed, "Harry, we've got a surprise for you. Would you like to see it?"

Because it seemed the right thing to do, Harry nodded.

"I'll go get it," Lily declared, and hurried into the kitchen.

The three males stood in silence until she returned. With her came Remus, and three children much smaller than Harry. Remus whispered something to Siruis, while looking sick again, and continued right on out the door, which made Harry frown.

James took the smallest of the children, a baby of no more than a year old, from his wife, and settled her comfortably against his chest. "Well, here we go, Harry," he began, beaming, "I'd like you to meet your sisters. Ella, Rachel, and Alice."

"I know who you are!" declared Ella, who was the oldest, smiling triumphantly. She walked right up close to Harry, and craned her head to look at him better. "I've seen pictures of you; you're the boy Mummy and Daddy get a letter about every week. You're my brother!"

Harry stared at the little girl, obviously about four years old, and didn't say anything. His expression had closed down, and he looked very cold. "They get letters about me?" he asked, in a voice that seemed to be very calm, for an eleven year old boy.

He'd never gotten a letter about his parents, or even from them. The closest anything came were the presents that always seemed to be magically waiting for him on Christmases and his birthdays. Even those, though, he'd never been entirely sure were from his parents, as Sirius had never exactly said they were.

Ella nodded. She was still smiling. "I know all about you! Mummy reads the letters to me sometimes."

He hadn't even known he'd had siblings.

Harry turned his back on the little girl, facing Sirius. "Can we go home now?" he asked sharply, his throat catching the last word oddly.

Sirius didn't react, so Harry reached for his hand and prompted, "Can we, please? I want to check on Remus. He didn't look well."

"Harry--" Lily looked absolutely stricken, and James only a bit less so. "Harry, didn't Sirius tell you? This is your home."

Harry frowned back at his father, shaking his head. "But Sirius doesn't live here. It can't be home."

Lily's devastated expression barely registered in Sirius's brain. He felt all over as if he'd somehow betrayed the very people he'd been trying to help, by raising Harry for them. And then he went pale and the feeling got worse, as he suddenly realized what, exactly, Harry was saying to him.

Home is where your parents are.