NOTE: In response to comments that my scene-break indicators weren't coming through, I changed them. Here's hoping that works!

Harry stomped off the elevator onto the residential floor and didn't even acknowledge Steve's greeting as he went. Tony frowned after his son but chose not to chastise him for his lack of manners. This time.

"Things go badly with the healer?" Steve asked from where he lounged on the sofa, a book open in his lap.

"Could've gone better. Let me get a beer and I'll tell you about it. Want one?"

"Sure."

By the time Tony fetched two bottles of beer from the fridge - his favorite this side of the Pond, Harvey's Imperial Extra Double Stout - grabbed a bottle opener from where it hung on the side of the fridge, popped the caps off, returned the opener to its place, and strode back into the living area, Steve had set his book aside and sat up properly.

Tony handed him one of the bottles and flopped down across from him. "Not a fan of St. Mungo's. It's … dingy. Not dirty that I could tell, but full of rickety furniture and not really well cared for. Makes you wonder how well they take care of their patients."

Steve winced in silent sympathy. "What about the healer?"

"Good enough, I guess - a Master Healer, so presumably one of their best. But the only suggestion she had for me was transfiguring the shrapnel into blood."

Steve quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why is that bad?"

"Because transfigurations can be reversed." Tony punctuated that statement with a long pull on the stout.

"Probably not the best choice, then." Steve took a swallow before asking, "So there's nothing they can do for you?"

"Actually, I'm thinking if we can find a surgeon in the know, we can combine magical and mundane treatments," Tony said. "The wizard - or witch - can support the surgeon's work with potions and whatever else. Best of both worlds."

"Makes sense," Steve said by way of agreement. "And Harry?"

Tony felt his mouth pulling into a scowl. "The healer thinks Harry has part of someone's soul trapped in his scar."

Steve stared at him, slack-jawed, and the beer nearly slipped from Steve's hand before the other man jerked upright and put the beer carefully on the coffee table. "How's that even possible?"

"All the healer would say is that it's the darkest of magic. She referred us to a curse-breaker."

"And?"

"And the best curse-breakers work for Gringotts - that's the bank - and their top team is in Egypt," Tony said. "They're going to recall the team, but it'll be a couple of days before they get here. We'll have a consultation with them and see what they have to say."

Steve took another swallow of beer, and Tony followed suit. Then, "So how was your day, dear?"

A mild glare was Steve's only reaction to his sarcasm. Tony grinned and added, "Aside from the call from the lovely Agent Hill, of course. She knows about magic?"

"She's a squib - magical parent but can't do magic herself," Steve said, then frowned. "I don't like how all their terms for non-magical people are derogatory."

It was Tony's turn to raise an eyebrow. "This from a man born in a time when calling someone colored or a Negro was acceptable?"

"It was never acceptable to me," Steve snapped. "Neither were wop, kike, dago, spic, or any of the others."

Tony held up both hands in a gesture for peace, not caring that his right hand still firmly gripped the stout. "Can't blame a guy for asking."

Steve let out a breath. "You're right. I'm sorry. Just - the conversation with Commander Hill left me a little … off."

Tony frowned at that - what kind of conversation had they had? Then he told himself firmly that it was none of his business, and if Steve ever wanted to share, he would.

Steve took another swallow of his beer, and when he finished, he looked more like the calm, collected captain Tony had willingly followed into battle in New York.

"Her cousin is a wizard," Steve said. "And her uncle - his father - is on the Wizengamot. I think he might be a good person to have on our side."

"Is he the only one you talked to?" Tony hoped his tone didn't carry censure in it.

"I talked to a dozen people," Steve replied. "And I still think Crispian Paddington is the right choice."

"You worried he'll tell Hill things he shouldn't?"

"No. He offered to take an Unbreakable Vow that he wouldn't reveal anything without permission."

"Huh." Tony took another swallow. "You tell him it's Harry?"

Steve shook his head. "Though I expect he can find out if he asks around, or visits Diagon Alley. He has another cousin in America who is a wizard and can help out if you take Harry there."

Tony nodded, accepting that, but still wanted to know, "What about the others you talked to?"

Steve grimaced. "A mixed bag - one or two might be good, but I favor Paddington, if only for his connections. Being friends with the son of a Wizengamot member - think a senator - can only help, especially given how much of a celebrity Harry is."

"Makes sense. JARVIS, arrange a meeting with Paddington tomorrow morning, will you?"

"Certainly, Sir."

Before Tony could pick up the thread of conversation, a soft pop sounded and Sirius and Dobby appeared in front of them.

"We're back!" Sirius announced unnecessarily, and with a grin that nearly split his face in two.

Tony frowned, looking more closely. Sirius didn't just look happy, he looked better, as though he'd had at least a good night's sleep or two - which he'd had here, or Tony thought he'd had here. So what had happened?

While he was pondering that, Steve said, "Welcome back. Join us for a beer and tell us what happened?"

"Sure." Sirius had barely turned toward the kitchen before Dobby wagged his finger at him.

"No, Harry Potter's dogfather, sir. You be sitting down. Dobby is getting beer."

Sirius gave a one-shoulder shrug and dropped onto the sofa next to Tony. "You're looking at a free man!"

"Great!" Steve exclaimed.

"Sounds like this calls for more than beer," Tony said. "Dobby?"

The elf popped into place in front of him, bouncing on his toes. "How can Dobby help?"

"Champagne instead of beer," Tony said. "There are bottles in the wine fridge - the cabinet with the glass doors and bottles inside it."

"Dobby gets!"

Tony downed the last of his beer and set the bottle on the table. "So what happened?"

"Getting The Rat was easy enough," Sirius said. "And thanks for the cage, it helped a lot. Once we got him, I realized that I couldn't just bring him back here."

"Why not?" Steve asked.

An open bottle of champagne and three full flutes appeared on the coffee table, and almost in unison all three of them reached for a flute.

"Because," Sirius answered, "I don't like what I've been hearing about the current Minister. I'm not convinced he wouldn't have both me and The Rat Kissed on sight or thrown through the Veil."

"I thought kissing is a good thing?" Steve said. "I know I enjoy it."

Sirius didn't smile. "That's what it's called when a Dementor takes your soul."

And just like that, Tony was ready to blow the Statute of Secrecy to smithereens and the entire magical world with it.

"How is that even real?" he demanded. "And how can that possibly be seen as a reasonable punishment, no matter the crime? I'm not that religious, but I don't have to be to think that's barbaric."

Sirius made an unreadable gesture with his free hand. "Couldn't tell you. It's been that way as far back as anyone knows."

"Add that to the list of things that need to change, J," Tony said, and kept on talking before JARVIS could respond. "So what'd you do instead?"

"I got a message to someone I know in Cairo - works for the ICW. International Confederation of Wizards," he added to what Tony was sure was his puzzled expression.

"Think the League of Nations - or, I guess these days it would be the United Nations," Steve said, and Tony nodded his thanks at the explanation.

"Go on," he said.

"Long story short, I took The Rat to him, I offered to testify under Veritaserum, they questioned Pettigrew under Veritaserum, and the ICW has issued me a conditional pardon and a passport for all their member nations."

"Except Britain?" Steve asked. "Assuming it's a member?"

"Even Britain," Sirius said. "In theory, I could present it to the Aurors here and they'd leave me alone."

"In practice?" Tony asked.

Sirius shrugged. "Who knows? I'm not going to risk going out in public too much to find out."

"What are the conditions?" Steve asked.

"I have to register my animagus form within thirty days, and I have to testify at Pettigrew's trial."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Tony said.

"It's more than I ever expected," Sirius replied. "So - how were your days? And where's Harry?"

"Ah." Tony blew out a breath. "That'll take a while."

HP | HP |HP | HP |HP

Harry closed his Potions textbook with a sigh. He'd been staring at it without seeing the text, much less completing the part of his essay he needed it for, almost since he and Tony had gotten back from Gringotts.

Tony had offered to stop at Fortescue's for ice cream, and Harry had refused with enough ill grace that he could be mistaken for an angry goblin.

He'd have to apologize to Tony for that - which wouldn't be fun, but still it had to be done, and he might as well do it sooner than later.

He rose from his chair and crossed to the door. When he opened it, there was someone immediately outside it, hand raised to knock.

Harry jumped back a step before he recognized his visitor. "Sirius? When did you get back?"

"Hey, pup." Sirius opened his arms, and Harry accepted the hug with gratitude. Sirius just held him for long moments before saying, "Heard you had a bad day?"

"He's in me, Sirius." Harry tugged him into the room and closed the door. "A part of him is inside me."

Sirius led him to his bed and made him sit down. When he had, Sirius sat beside him and draped an arm around his shoulders. Harry allowed himself to lean into the comfort his godfather offered. Strange that he felt so comfortable with the man so quickly - but then, he thought, maybe he subconsciously recognized Sirius from when he was a baby.

It was as good an explanation as any, and not one that Harry cared to examine too closely.

"By him, you mean the Dark Wanker?"

Harry snorted. Trust Sirius not to be, well, serious, and therefore lighten Harry's mood a little by barely trying.

"If you're talking about Tom Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort, then yes," Harry said.

"Huh. That's a hell of a thing." Sirius pulled him closer briefly. "Tell me?"

So Harry told him about the visit to St. Mungo's and the consultation with Master Healer Cheswick.

"She was horrified and pleased at the scar on my arm," he said. "Horrified because a twelve-year-old faced a basilisk, pleased because the phoenix tears cleansed the venom completely."

"I can't say I don't share those reactions," Sirius said, his voice a little unsteady. "Just how big was this basilisk?"

"I don't-" Harry took a breath, let it out slowly. "There was a shed skin in the chamber - probably twenty feet long. Its body was thick as an oak tree - maybe six feet across. I don't - I don't have a clear memory of how long the live snake was. Except too long," he added, trying to lighten the mood as Sirius had done earlier.

"Much too long," Sirius agreed with feeling. "I expect Tony and I will be having words with Dumbledore, the Board of Governors, and probably the DMLE, too."

"DMLE?"

"Department of Magical Law Enforcement. What else did the healer have to say?"

"That-" Harry swallowed past a lump in his throat. "That my scar has some dark magic around and within it - that it's a part of Voldemort inside me."

"That's rough," Sirius said. "Can it be removed?"

"She didn't know - she couldn't do it. But curse-breakers might be able to, so we went to Gringotts, but their top team is in Egypt right now." Harry was aware that he was babbling, but considering the circumstance, he figured he was allowed.

"Easy there, Pup." Sirius' other arm came around him again, and slowly, Harry settled. "What's the plan?"

"The bank's recalling their team, and once they get back, I'll have a full diagnostic session with Healer Cheswick and the curse-breakers."

"Well," Sirius said, "there's no sense worrying about that until it happens, is there?"

"I guess not," Harry admitted. "But it's hard not to."

"You've gotten some shocking news," Sirius allowed. "On top of all the other shocking news you've gotten in the last week. I'm actually surprised you're holding up this well - pleased, but surprised."

Harry laughed a little. "At least most of the surprises have been good ones."

"Exactly! One bad one shouldn't eclipse all the good ones."

Even if that one is pretty bad, Harry finished silently. But Sirius was right, and Harry straightened up to look at his godfather.

"How was Egypt?"

"Better than I could've hoped." Sirius gave him a predatory grin. "C'mon - let's get something to eat and I'll tell you all about it."