The sun rose like a slumbering ship over the bleak landscape, throwing long shadows on the ankle length heather. The North York Moors fall into the category of those places that can be called remarkably unremarkable. It was nothing but acres and acres of low-growing grass and heather covering gently rounded knolls. But any visitor to the region is at once struck breathless by the sheer beauty of it. The calm and peace, the sounds of rustling grass and warbling birds unique to the area, stream or two meandering through the land with their clear waters bearing fattened salmon and trout.

The North York Moors National Park, an area around a thousand and a half square kilometres in size, like all other National Parks in the UK, was protected by both the muggle and wizarding governments. The muggle government deemed the moors a special protection habitat and regulated immigration into the area, while the wizarding government monitored the magical species of the region and the two small wizarding villages that had existed in the northern reaches of the park for the better part of two millennia. The local Obliviation and Muggle Protection Squads also routinely scoured the Park. They added mild compulsions to the muggles that lived in the Park or visited it, urging them to ignore and forget any magical species of plants or critters they might come across. Similarly, any magicals looking to pop in and use a remote bit of land for their own purposes were thoroughly rebuffed by an Auror Squad. This arrangement had worked decently well for the good portion of two centuries. But nearing the dawn of a new millennium in 1995, one scheme sought to upset the status quo - not that either government would ever find out about it.

In the silence of the dawn, low voices conferred as an illegal undertaking came to an end. Fifty goblins gathered wordlessly in a field and were whisked away with a long muted hiss of depressurizing air that indicated the activation of their magical transportation system - The Window, as the wizarding world had imaginatively dubbed it. No wizard or witch in history had ever managed to pierce the veil of secrecy surrounding the workings of a portal. In fact, the most recent goblin rebellion a hundred and twenty years ago had been caused by an overstepping Minister of Magic who had tried to order the goblins to part with the secret behind The Window. Needless to say, the Minister was booted from office and shamed publicly before the goblins even considered reopening Gringotts. One disadvantage of the system, however, was its range. It could only transport goblins and large amounts of material to an area limited by a circle that centred on Gringotts, London. Unfortunately, that circle fell well within British borders, which was why the goblins were eagerly assisting Harry with an alternate exit from the country.

A lone goblin was left behind to finish the work in the field. He wore a striped, blue suit with a bevvy of medals on his lapel that denoted his status as a Gringotts Ward Master. He walked over to the two wizards who were inspecting the area with a standard-parchment sized mirror.

"Mr Evans. Mr Potter, I take it everything is in order?"

The mirror in Sirius' hands glowed a milky white and depicted an elongated, dotted rectangle in an inky black. Sirius finished running through the details that hovered next to the rectangle. Although invisible to the naked eye, the rectangle lay stretched out in the field in front of the three magical beings - a good five hundred metres wide and three kilometres in length. It was set in a small valley of sorts with a line of grassy knolls running the length of the rectangular field on either side. At one end, the two lines flowed together to form a hill that was a bit higher than those surrounding it. A small lake capped off the other end of the rectangle. If not providing a thorough defence by its lonesome, the surroundings at least ensured that there was no easy approach to the area. Harry was rightfully proud. It had been his idea to get out a couple of Firebolts, whip out disillusionment charms, and cruise over the North York Moors and "I'll bet you 20 galleons that we're going to find a beautiful piece of land just waiting for us." Harry was now the proud owner of 20 galleons that had burned a hole through Sirius' pocket.

Five feet beneath the ground, the edges of the field were marked at regular intervals of ten metres by cubic blocks of sandstone, their sides a foot each. The surfaces of each of these blocks were covered painstakingly in runic carvings that allowed them to act as a ward-stone, a magical device that would help anchor a magical ward scheme in place.

The device that looked like an innocuous mirror in Sirius' hand was a ward monitor - it allowed the owner or the maintainer of a ward scheme to do a myriad of things. Like pinpointing a fault that might arise in a specific ward-stone or to determine how much magical power a ward scheme was drawing from a Ley Line. The Marauder's Map, incidentally, was designed as a simplified ward monitor for one of Hogwarts' forgotten wards. A headmaster in the 15th century had dabbled with warding and set up an identification ward that was connected to the Sorting Hat. The ward, and consequently the Map, could thus identify any adult who'd passed under the Hat. All that was needed in real time was a simple magical signature reading ward that would then scan a magical signature and cross-reference it with the Sorting Hat's records of each of its students. A truly brilliant example of a ward that followed the first principle of intelligent warding - A simple ward is always the best ward.

Sirius completed his inspection of the monitor and looked down at the goblin standing in front of him.

"Yes, indeed, Ribald. The ward-stones seem to be in perfect order. Shall we activate the wards?"

Ribald didn't reply, but withdrew a gleaming gemstone from one of the pockets of his suit and passed it to Sirius. The stone was the size of Sirius' fist and was covered in minute runic arrays.

"Let's step outside the ward boundaries first... Good. Now, Mr Black, channel a bit of magic through that stone and the ward scheme will begin to power up from the Ley Lines. The illusory wards should activate immediately and will always maintain the illusion of what entities were inside the warded area when it was initially powered up. Right now, there's nothing and no one inside, so this is what the illusion will maintain, day or night. The next to power up will be the wide-area muggle-repelling wards and the confundus wards for magical beings. It will ensure that no one will approach this area by accident. Following that we have the offensive wards - paralysis, stunning, silencing, and more, followed by the defensive wards that nullify incoming spellfire. You already know the details, I believe. These wards will be kept under low power. Only when an unauthorized foreign presence with ill intent approaches the area will these wards activate and shift to full power. The magical reservoirs for such a scenario have been buried directly beneath the centre point of this field and will be able to power the defensive wards for a good thirty minutes under a barrage of heavy fire. Enough time to either evacuate or respond with force."

Harry listened and watched with interest as Sirius proceeded to activate the wards. There was a brief shimmering of the air in front of them and a low buzz before the wards settled. Nothing appeared to have changed.

"Of course, none of this really matters once you have the field under the Fidelius ward. As a Gringotts Ward Master, it is my duty to implore you to guard your secret with the caution of a miser down to his last galleon. When I return to Gringotts, I will follow due procedure along with the fifty goblins that worked with us overnight. I will have my memories of this place obliviated and all knowledge and details of the ward schemes that surround this place will be purged. This is of course to protect our clients as well as ourselves. If dark wizards suspected that Gringotts Goblins remembered the warding of any specific place, goblins like me would be very unsafe indeed. The only knowledge that the Goblin Nation will hold on to is the fact that Mister Potter has ensured a mode of safe passage for the goblins out of Britain, and that this passage, at least at its point of entry, is protected by the best defensive wards that Gringotts can offer."

Ribald was silent for a few moments before adding, "We are placing a lot of trust in you, Mr Potter. I hope you understand that."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I give you my word that should you ask for my help, you will receive it. Unreservedly."

"Good. Now let us complete the Fidelius ward. To give you an overview of its workings, imagine a giant tarpaulin that extends over our heads to a height of half a kilometre and is held down by the ward-stones that surround this field. What we shall be doing is to take the volume under that tarpaulin away. No, do not ask me how or where it goes, young Potter, for I don't hold the answers to the mysteries of spatial magic. Instead, think of your standard expansion charms on your school trunk. Where does the extra space come from? Is the space becoming bigger, or is it that your things are becoming smaller? How about the Knight Bus? Does it actually compress itself and everyone aboard as it weaves through traffic? Are we dealing with another dimension?

I have no clue.

In any case, the Fidelius will simply 'vanish' away the space inside the boundaries. The secret to finding that space again is what will be stored inside your soul, Mr Black. Once made the secret keeper, only you will ever hold rights to this piece of land and only you can allow access to it. This is one of the reasons why the Fidelius ward is almost never used by the goblin nation. Only two Ward Masters at any point in Gringotts' history are allowed the knowledge to the Fidelius ward..."

"Ribald..." Harry asked tentatively. "How is it that the Fidelius charm is easily accessible to wizards, yet so tightly controlled by the goblins?"

The goblin grunted in amusement.

"Ah, the Fidelius charm is precisely that. A charm. It has many failures and is notoriously unreliable. It can fail when the caster dies or when the secret keeper dies. It also so happens that a Fidelius Charm cannot be cast when another ward scheme is in place. I'm sorry to say this Mr Potter, but this was one of the reasons why Voldemort overwhelmed your parents on that terrible day. They had no warning, and once the Fidelius was compromised, they had little to no defence to fall back on."

Harry took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to bat away what-ifs and maybes.

"The past will stay where it is, much as I wish for it to change," he finally replied. "Moving on, I assume the Fidelius ward is better than the charm?"

"Indeed," the Ward Master confirmed. "It's static and anchored to the ward-stones. This means that it cannot be brought down once activated by anything other than the secret keeper specifically deactivating it. If you were to ask for my advice Mr Black, I would suggest that you keep the secret limited to only those who manage this area. Anyone passing through can be administered a sensory deprivation spell for the duration of their stay here. But from what I understand, that shouldn't be a problem. This is only a way station, correct?"

"Yes, they will be here for a very short period. We will bring them here only once we're ready to leave."

"Wonderful. Make sure you follow that rule. The effects on a person not knowing the secret within a Fidelius ward for more than an hour... the results are not pretty, of that I assure you."

Sirius nodded. He'd been reticent to share the secret with every person that made their way through the field, but this was a brilliant solution. In fact, no one except Harry would even need to know that he was the secret keeper, he mused, or for that matter, that there was a Fidelius in place.

The trio spent another hour at the site, incanting the Fidelius protections and anchoring them to the ward-stones. Once they were done and the Fidelius took hold, the memories escaped, and Harry and Ribald blinked almost stupidly and looked around wondering what they were doing in the middle of nowhere.

"Thank you, Ribald, it's been a pleasure working with you. I wish you only the best in the times to come."

"Ah, thank you, Mr Black. I surmise that another one of my projects has been completed?"

Sirius nodded.

"Very well, I hope I have explained the obliviation protocols of Gringotts. The next time I meet you, I shall not recognize the two of you. But I would like to wish you the best all the same."

The goblin gave a brisk nod and touched something inside his suit, and vanished with a hiss of releasing air.

Sirius bent to Harry's ear and whispered.

"The Airfield is in the North York Moors."

Harry's eyes cleared as the memories came rushing back to him.

"Bloody hell," he breathed. "That is a ridiculously powerful piece of magic! For a while there I was struggling to remember even the very beginnings of our plan to set up a landing strip. It's like the magic encourages you to think about literally anything other than something that could lead you to even deduce the presence of a Fidelius warded place. I'm completely sold on the security now, zero doubts. Just make sure to limit the secret to me and the pilots. I'm guessing the pilots will have to spend a bit of time here anyway, fixing up the plane and what not. Speaking of, how's the search going by the way?"

"I've got four candidates lined up. They're muggle-born and moved to work for the Royal Air Force after finishing up with Hogwarts."

"They're fighter pilots?"

"The best of the best. Looks like they have an exceptional record of safety and health somehow. The muggles are effusive in their praise of them." Sirius grinned.

"Good, at least they didn't reject magic outright. They'll most likely be willing to help, if at least part-time."

"Indeed. I'm going to have to play it safe when I meet them. Of course, I'll do that only after my face surgery gets done with."

"Why, does your keen mind reckon they'll be reluctant to work for a mass murderer?" Harry asked.

"Shush, you cheeky brat. Now, when is your flight scheduled?"

"A week from now at five in the morning from Heathrow... Are you sure it's the best idea to leave such a clear trace?" Harry asked, even though they'd been over the point already. He was worried about exposing Hermione, her parents, and Susan to an attack.

"I want to sneak you five away in the middle of the night too, but we also need to use your departure to galvanize the people. If the boy-who-lived abandoned Britain, maybe they'll believe there's some semblance of truth to what he's saying. And that seed of doubt is all we need for our purposes. Besides, your destination is going to be untraceable anyway. Remember the plan?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Couldn't forget it if I tried. Let's see... Get off at Frankfurt. Get a train to Lucerne using the confounded empty passports that we'll be taking with us. Get a car in Lucerne. Dan Granger drives us North to Zurich. Get a train from there to Milan. Get a flight to Abu Dhabi. And the final leg is from Abu Dhabi to Melbourne. I've got the route in mind. I've got the glamours practised for Dan and myself. Hermione will take care of herself and her mom, and Susan has also been practising. We have a glamour for each leg of the trip along with a few in backup. We have rough identities for each should we be questioned, but with the confounded passports, I doubt we'll need that.

Hmm... what else? Ah, I've got around half a million US Dollars stashed away for travel costs between me, Hermione, Susan, Dan, and Viola. First class all the way should give us a fair bit of isolation from other travellers who are liable to remember even our glamoured faces... Hermione's mom almost fainted when I handed her a hundred thousand dollars in cash. I honestly don't know what they've come to think of me after this summer."

"You're helping them quite a bit, Harry. If nothing else, they'll be thankful. And remember, as soon as you get a thank you, demand their daughter's hand in marriage as payment for your help."

Harry snorted and replied dryly.

"Of course. And a few minutes later, when Hermione comes back from burying my body, she'll put out a hit on you for corrupting me."

The two had been walking up a nearby knoll as they talked, and finally reached the top. They sat down on the springy heather and watched as a tiny grey rabbit hopped away from them and into the morning. Harry held out his fingers trying to frame the rolling moorland in front of him. It looked like a beautiful scene straight out of a picture postcard.

"The world is so beautiful, Sirius. Why is it that people can't just enjoy it, be happy, and die?"

"There are so many philosophical answers I can give to that, but I don't know where to even begin. I will, however, say that we can only control our own lives. In that regard, I think you're doing exceptionally well. I know I treat you like an adult, and I've gotten used to it. But for a fifteen-year-old to behave as responsibly and as maturely as you? I'm so very proud, Harry. And so are your parents, I'm sure."

Harry blushed, warming at the praise coming from his godfather and mentor. It wasn't that Sirius withheld praise, but it was rare that the Marauder ever allowed himself a moment of genuine reflection. It was usually...

"I have to ask you something that's very important to my legacy, Harry..." Sirius said in a grave tone.

"Of course, Padfoot. What's the matter?"

"When is my godson going to nab the teenage Granger? I got laid for the first time during the Christmas holidays of my fifth year. If you want to beat my record, you've still got time."

Harry sighed. And the mutt was back.

"You have a bet with Remus."

"No, of course not," Sirius said indignantly. "That would be childish, immature, and unbecoming of an adult."

Harry raised his eyebrows sceptically.

"Alright, fine. I bet Remus that I'd walk around wearing pink clothes for a day if you don't get laid before Christmas."

Harry tried to hide the grin that was threatening to break out.

"Very well. I guess I'm going to have sex..."

Sirius cheered.

"...on the 26th of December," Harry concluded, and watched Sirius deflate.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. Now, instead of waiting for your godson to get laid. Let's get you ready for your surgery so that you can get laid. I don't know if you noticed, but Amelia looked a little frisky that day when she came over."

"Hey, that's my girlfriend! Get your own, you little bugger."

"She's a saint is what she is if she puts up with the likes of you."

"...I can't really disagree with that."


A.N:

A time skip is coming up soon, I don't want to drag you all through the rigours of his schooling. Let's finish setting this up, and then we'll delve right into his adventures. I have so much planned! As for Tonks... honestly, the thought of a teenager with an adult woman excites my inner horndog, but appals my every other sense. So Tonks will be meeting Harry only after his age of majority. I've always wanted to see an interaction between the two of them as equals, without a shred of dependency coming into the equation from either side. Should be very interesting.

(And before you think me a prude, I'll have you know that I'm a first-class smut writer. *sniffs snootily*)

(I just can't figure out how to get a damn balance between all the moaning and thrusting.)