Titanium

Author's notes: So, I'm writing this chapter in an awkward silence while siting with my cousin from out of town. It's awkward as hell, making my Author's note seem even more awkward and longwinded than normal. Anyway, like I explained too many people, no Neville, don't get pissy okay? I have a really a few really long chapters with Neville that are mostly flash backs planned. But I feel you'll like them. You all just have to be patient! Thanks to the amazing amount of reviews for the last chapter, and all past chapters. We have over 100 reviews to this story, and honestly I love every single one! Thanks to all the readers who have added this to favorites, and to story alerts! It means so much to have such amazing readers! –CJG

Warning: Homosexual relationships, dark themes, violence, language, and angst. If you don't like, please don't read.

Chapter Seventeen: The Finest of Fireworks

Characters: Harrison Potter and Sirius Black. Location: The Shire.

Sirius wasn't the most; well serious of men, but at times he had his moments. Before his stay in Azkaban he hadn't really considered just how far insanity or desperation could drive a man. He soon found that it could drive him farther than anything he could have comprehended. He sat on the top of a fine hill with Bilbo and Gandalf at his side as he inhaled some of the finest tobacco he had tasted since his arrival almost a year ago to the shire. Harrison, with the help of Frodo and Pippin, had crafted his very pipe, alone with the pipe that Bilbo was currently using. He still hadn't gotten completely used to his godson's creativity yet. He had been so shut off, so utterly broken after the betrayal, and after his summer stays with the Dursleys his spark was almost always gone from his eyes.

As he watched the lights and activities of the preparation for Bilbo's one-hundred and eleventh birthday, he could see that spark from his perch. Unlike the hobbits and unlike the Elfling that was now his dogson's main form, he knew of Bilbo's plans to go to Rivendell, for him to travel to the city of the Elves one last time. Sirius hadn't agreed with the fact that Bilbo was waiting until then to announce that he was going away, and likely not ever returning. But honestly, it was Bilbo's life, he was in fact far older than Sirius himself, but it was vaguely irresponsible of the older man. And it most certainly made Siri think a bit before saying anything, or even respecting the man.

Bilbo had claimed that he was extremely selfish one night while the younger folk were off at the green dragon. Harrison was sleeping quietly with his head resting carefully on Sirius's lap. He hadn't exactly explained why, but he gave a few reasons. He gave examples, oddly enough Sirius was slightly confused that he had used his nephew as an example, but didn't have the heart to ask the obviously internally warring man about it. That man who had housed them, and even helped them learn the different ways and languages, so when Harrison was frustrated and slipped into his newly discovered Elven tongue Sirius would know when to run, and when to comfort the slightly emotionally unstable Elfling. Harrison had even started touching the basis on Parseltongue with him, he could actually hold a short and simple conversation in parseltongue, and Harrison had attempted to teach him some Parselmagic. Sirius wasn't good, in fact he was barely okay at the Parselmagic, but he tried as hard as he could possibly manage.

Harrison was good at many things, but hobbit dancing was not one of them. Oh yes, he could bull shit better than most, and he was more than able to pretend he knew what he was doing. But in all honesty, he looked completely pathetic. No one really cared; no one even questioned his presence, excluding the other Baggins, who hadn't even been invited to the large celebration. He danced wildly, spinning, laughing, clinging to different female hobbits, and even a few male hobbits. Pippin seemed to be his favored dancing partner, when he wasn't playing an instrument in the small band of hobbits that were playing.

His braid was swinging wildly he was just content with the pleasant feel of the party, his curls were braided back, flowers behind his ears, the charmed crown Pippin had created for him was resting happily on his skull. He collected Pippin and Merry, and headed toward the table tent that now held Sirius, who was helping Gandalf choose different fireworks, and discussing different spells that could be cast to aid in healing, as well as defense. It was odd teaching Gandalf, he was so much older, and had been around on that world for far longer than Harrison or Sirius had even existed. But age doesn't limit experience, or power, and Harrison in all his seventeen years had both.

"Meriadoc, Pippin, we should play a prank!" Sirius' childish ways were showing light in a rather hilarious matter as he bounced in his seat much like a toddler would do. He wasn't holding back either, parties were one thing that Sirius didn't hold back at in the Shire. Once a marauder always one, it was sad to think that only two of the original Marauders were alive, though it was back to a pack of four with Harrison and Neville, it still wasn't exactly the same. Harrison normally attempted to use only one or two of his forms when Moony was changing, but it wasn't like he honestly chose to enter his other forms. The reason being that he felt sometimes his instincts were so strong in those forms, that he was borderline lost. He was completely in his right mind, but his body mostly acted on his own.

The next moment all Harrison noticed was the three goons scrambling away to go mess around and steal one of Gandalf's fireworks. Harrison found himself completely enticed by the stories and the fireworks that were currently going on around him. He was sitting in the middle of a pile of children, listening to Bilbo's fantastic tales. Honestly he had missed out on so much as a child; he felt the need to soak as much in as possible now that he had a bit of time before fate started on its way.

After Bilbo's tales came to an end Harrison had started his own, using pictures and magic to show the tales. To give faces to the princesses, to the princes, to the horrific monsters, and to all that made the story whole. It was fantastic; he seemed to capture the entirety of the being's attention. Almost every child and sober adult was now watching his that he was playing within the fire. They were waiting for the proper time for the speech that was expected of Bilbo, and had just finished up cleaning all the mess from diving away from the dragon, which wasn't actually a dragon. Go figure. He was pleased, so very pleased to find that everyone had made themselves out as fools on top of it all.

They were all completely impressed at the gathering by the end of it all.

But little did they know that the end of the party was the beginning of their true destiny. And that their mates were closer than one would realize. Though one of our boys must wait much longer than others to find his own.

Will it be worth the wait for him?