Chapter Fifteen: Preparing
"I think that you both deserve to know why it is I'm not going by Potter, and where I've been all these years." Harry started the conversation once they were all seated with their lunch options ordered – the food would magically appear on the table when ready so they wouldn't be interrupted by waiters. "Professor McGonagall because I'm asking you to keep a secret. And Sirius, because you're my godfather and I'm told you looked for me."
"From the moment I learned you weren't with your parents." Sirius confirmed, his eyes flashing darkly with the anger he held. "Where have you been?"
"James gave me to the Headmaster, who gave me to Lily's sister. Said he would come back for me if my Hogwarts letter ever turned up. But I didn't believe him and my letter turned up and I knew he wasn't going to come back for me. Because I wasn't Charlie Potter, the saviour who needed all his love and protection." Harry sneered lightly.
"What about Lily? I could never believe she would willingly give you up." McGonagall questioned with a frown.
"They didn't give her a choice." Harry stared down at the table sadly. "They stunned her and took me from her arms. She didn't want to give me up. And then, they used magic to keep her from finding me, or even looking for me."
"You remember." Sirius breathed in something that might be horror.
"I remember everything." Harry admitted. "I remember you used to come and visit us all the time. You used to play with us, and call us your little pups. You came to the house that night and you were the one who was supposed to take us. But then, Hagrid was there and you gave us to him instead because you wanted to get the one who betrayed us."
"When they got me out of the prison, I went looking for you. They said you were injured, but Severus said…" Sirius shook his head angrily.
"He would have told you I was unharmed. I remember Severus; he held me in the hospital wing while he waited for mum to wake up." Harry finished. "I'm glad he told you the truth. That you knew I'd been abandoned."
"I just don't understand, why I couldn't take you in. I was your godfather. I am your godfather." Sirius growled. "I'll never forgive James for just turning away from you like that."
"That's something only Dumbledore can answer in the first instants. He was the one who facilitated my placement. Why James agreed, I don't know." Harry shrugged.
"Where are you living now? You said you moved out of the Dursleys?" McGonagall questioned.
"I did. I'm living in an apartment I'm renting until September." Harry admitted.
"Why don't you come and live with me? I've already lost ten years; I would like to make up for it." Sirius requested.
"That wouldn't be a good idea. Eleven-year-old boy named Harry, with black hair and green eyes suddenly comes to live with you. James will know immediately that I am his son, and that will make changing my name redundant. I don't feel safe enough, or established enough, in this world to do that. I don't mind visiting and getting to know you, but I can't come live with you. Not at the minute." Harry admitted sadly.
"I'd love to get to know you." Sirius agreed.
"Will… will you tell me about Hogwarts?" Harry asked hesitantly. He wanted to keep the conversation away from his time at the Dursleys, and especially the scars on his face since he didn't want to lie to his godfather and he didn't want to explain about Narnia.
Following his meeting with Sirius and Professor McGonagall, Harry was sent an enchanted mirror that allowed him to speak with Sirius face-to-face without them having to meet up and running the risk of being exposed. It was over the mirrors that he was introduced to his other uncle, Moony, who was both thrilled to hear from him and disappointed they wouldn't be able to meet in person until Harry turned up at Hogwarts. Apparently, Sirius and Remus shared the Defence post and they had done so for the last three years.
It was during his first conversation with Moony when he was placed in the position where he could tell the truth or lie.
"Harry," Remus' amber eyes stared intently at him through the mirror. "The scars on your face, those are the marks of a wolf."
"How do you know?" Harry asked, ducking his head slightly.
"Harry, I've got the same scars." Remus shifted his hold on the mirror, before moving so his face wasn't cast into Sirius' shadow. He had three scars, going from left to right across his face. The one in the middle, over the bridge of his nose, was the clearest and least broken. They were close enough together that his eyes and his lips remained untouched.
"It wasn't a werewolf," Harry sighed, admitting defeat. He couldn't argue against Remus' logic since he'd recognised the same thing that his vampire land lord had. "I was attacked by a wolf, it's dead now but he managed to do some damage. I've not been cursed with the Werewolf gene; I promise uncle Moony."
"You know what I am," Remus was quick to pick up on.
"Padfoot used to make jokes when you were babysitting us. Between that and your scars and golden eyes, it wasn't a large leap of faith." Harry admitted with a quirk of his lips.
"And you don't mind?" Remus asked surprised. "Especially considering..."
"Padfoot looks more like the wolf who attacked me than a transformed werewolf." Harry snorted. "And if I'm not scared of him, what makes you think I'd be scared of you?"
"Geeh, thanks pup." Sirius teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Although, it's good to know you still remember good old padfoot."
"You kidding, how could I forget my favourite toy? Every time you transformed; I was always trying to get a hold of your tale." Harry giggled.
"Don't I know it," Sirius winced in remembered pain. "You had a strong grip for such a small thing."
When he wasn't talking to Sirius and Moony on the mirror, Harry was practising his fighting or reading his books. This was the first time he was getting to truly study the theory of magic, and he also needed to get a handle on the history, government and laws he'd missed out on because of his abandonment. The knowledge from the older Tom, before he truly became Voldemort, started seeping through as he read about the knowledge first hand. He hadn't taken in the knowledge from Tom because he hadn't needed it at the time but, now he was reading about it, Harry meditated on the knowledge that was coming forward and absorbed it into his own knowledge.
The wizarding world, Harry decided, was full of problems that had been created because they simple stopped. They stopped looking back on their own laws, stopped progressing and inventing and for some god-awful reason, seemed to have decided that those without magical parents were inferior – an outlook that had died out somewhere between 1040 and 1250 when muggles started educating their children, but seemed to have returned at some point mid to late 1800, without any discernible reason.
He ended up going back to the shop to get a series of books which had every written law, and all of their amendments – right back to the formation of the wizarding council and forward to the current government. He had a note book, going through the laws, along with newspaper articles and various books, going through it with the mind of an adviser. The houses he had inherited all came with seats in the government, so did his place as heir of House Black, and if he took control of the Potter family, he would have another seat. Which meant, in time, he would have the power to influence law and policy, and maybe change the attitudes which had led to two wars in the last century. When he noticed a problem, Harry wasn't the sort of person who stood aside – it was why he had helped his Kings and Queens.
"How's your reading? You prepared?" Sirius questioned. Since he started school tomorrow, they had decided to talk tonight since it would be a lot harder for them to talk privately when they were both at the school – Harry in a dorm room, Sirius juggling his teaching duties.
"I've completed all the assigned first year text books, I fear I'm going to be bored." Harry admitted.
"You practised any of the magic?" Sirius questioned.
"Of course. Every spell in each of the text books. Even got the potions done," Harry smiled, pleased with himself.
The spells he knew were easy because he had been manipulating his magic for so long, but the potions were something he had never done before. He had done a study of plants and natural substances which could be used in healing, but potions were different. He had to study all the magical properties of plants and animals, and how they interacted and mixed together to achieve an outcome. A lot of potions had been created to solve a problem that spells could not achieve.
"Wow, you really are going to be bored." Sirius blinked. "All the potions? There are fifty-three potions written in that text book, and you only do thirteen of them in school."
"I didn't see the point in only doing a select number of them. They are all useful, if not in themselves, then in the procedure and techniques they teach." Harry shrugged.
"Oh, Severus is going to love you. As long as you can teach that same dedication to the other student's, you'll fall into the rare and unlikely category of not being belittled and insulted." Sirius snarked.
"I may not be able to teach my class, but I will do my best to teach my house mates." Harry promised.
Spreading dedication to the other students is something that he really didn't mind doing since he thought that learning and teaching is an honourable calling. During his time in Narnia, he had implemented a teaching system so that all the Narnians could learn how to read and write, and their history, at an equal level instead of simple what their elders or parents could teach them as it had been during the long winter. It was a project he and Susan had bonded over.
"A little teaching assistant, Severus will be thrilled. You going to help out in your other classes too?" Sirius inquired.
"If they want my help, but I won't push knowledge and studying onto the others if they don't want it. You got your lesson plans in order?" Harry turned the subject away from himself.
"Yep. Remus pushed me to have them done a week ago, and he's finished checking them over already." Sirius allowed the subject changed. "Who knew that teaching kids came with so much paperwork."
"It's the ineffective system. You shouldn't have to completely re-do your lessons plans each year. It should be a matter of simply checking them over and updating as required." Harry explained. "And the masses amount of homework the system requires, despite it not being an effective way of ensuring knowledge is imparted, probably doesn't help."
"Amen." Sirius said solemnly. "A thirty-minute work sheet for those under fifth year once a week, or even a fortnight depending on the lesson topic, should be more than enough. From what I remember, and from my discussions with the other teachers, they give homework which takes a minimum of an hour to complete every week. With seven core classes, that is a minimum of seven hours of homework each week in your first two years alone, and that goes up in third year, and again in fifth and seventh year."
"Wow, you actually did the maths." Harry blinked. That wasn't exactly in character for Sirius, who hated doing paperwork even though he saw the necessity of it. One of the things he was grateful for was how small the Black family now was, because that meant he had less House related paperwork to complete.
"I have a lot of marking to do." Sirius grumbled. "I try and cut back to once a fortnight to help the students and me."
"Don't you share making duty with Remus?" Harry blinked.
"Yes, but we split marking along with the lessons we teach so it's still a lot." Sirius shrugged. "Seven years of students, that's a typically amount of six hundred sheets of homework each week. And Defence isn't conductive to tick sheet answers."
"No, I suppose it isn't." Harry agreed. "Does Hogwarts have a lesson about how to properly research for written assessment, and how to write and structure them?"
"No. Half the kids can't even write a proper bloody sentence. It's frustrating as hell. And first and second years, don't know how to hold a quill. Dumbledore won't consider introducing a class."
"Well, that's… I'm trying to think of a word which isn't insulting to more than just his intelligence." Harry trailed off thoughtfully.
"Oh no, after all he's done to you, you insult him as you see fit." Sirius said immediately. "I've been coming up with imaginative ways of insulting that old fool for the last ten years, and especially since I started working here three years ago and again when you got in contact with us."
"I dislike openly insulting someone," Harry frowned. "Or, calling them names unless I'm trying to antagonise them into a fight."
When he'd been shadowing Susan and Edmund during their diplomatic visits, he'd rarely had reason to talk in the presence of others unless he was defending them from the insults and silver tongues of the ambassadors, nobles or kings; he'd taken to defending them by politically insulting whoever it was who decided to look down on his Kings and Queens. He'd gotten very good at insulting without any name calling – instead implying that they were stupid, or lacking in some area for daring to act in the manner they were against those under his care.
Just because he no longer had the same title, and he was no longer working under the Kings or Queens, didn't mean he should backslide his comments and insults.
Harry arrived at the train early on the morning of the 1st of September. He didn't feel up to interacting with more people than he absolutely had to during the train journey. He didn't know how to interact with children who were his age, and actually acted their age. His Kings and Queens had been forced to grow up quickly and be soldiers and leaders before they were ready. He doubted he was going to find to many old minds among the children at Hogwarts, because that was just not how children of this century grew.
He settled into a compartment next to the locked carriage which Sirius informed him was where the escorting adults were. Because of its location, it wasn't a compartment that the younger students typically sat in so if he got visitors, it would be the older student's who he would be able to relate to easier than others.