A/N: Muse ran away. Slowly dragging it back right now…

And in case any of you were interested – Roflcoptour was amazing and going was definitely one of the best decisions I've ever made.

I'm not that happy with some of these scenes, but that's probably my muse retaliating for me hitting her over the head with a shovel. And they had to be done. Even if I feel like I'm cheating by fading them out right now.

Inspiration, someone? Please?

Now hear me,

Today we meet our destiny.

Together, let's do this for Harry.

So who are we fighting for?

~ Ministry of Magic

Chapter 15

"I wish there was a simple, easy answer to that Harry. But I'm afraid, especially when you are this young, that there simply is not one. That isn't even easy for me to answer for myself.

You asked me about bullies, and Sirius Black was definitely one. It always seemed meant in good sport. When we were younger…." Remus stopped, sighing slightly. Massaging his temples briefly, he looked back down to his young charges.

"What you have to understand is that Sirius was undeniably your father's best friend. And their favorite occupation was arguably pestering, hexing, and generally making life miserable for a fellow student. I don't know what he ever did to set either your father or Black off. James always said it was just because he existed, how much more of a bully do you get than that? And Peter and I just let it happen, not actively helping the unprovoked attacks, but witnessing them and not lifting a finger to stop them either."

Harry's eyes were wide, and his face twisted into something that most closely resembled disgust at this point, while Dudley simply had a furrowed brow.

"The boy gave as good as he got of course. He had come to Hogwarts with knowledge of the Dark Arts that surpassed many upper years. But I know that excuses nothing. He was a good friend of your mother's up until fifth year. Your mother was… an uncommonly kind woman, but she was not particularly forgiving. Although perhaps it was just that they were both too stubborn to reconcile."

"What happened?" Morbidly curious, the raven haired boy couldn't help but ask. After all, he had not learned much about his mother, and clearly there was plenty of his father that he had not been told. He had thought James was supposed to be a good guy, not a bully.

"He insulted her when she tried to defend him from James and Black."

The two boys blinked.

"That's it?"

Remus just shrugged. "I don't know, Prongslet. Perhaps it was just the straw the broke the camel's back or perhaps it was a long time coming. All I know was that the moment he insulted her, she stopped spending time with him. She didn't seem particularly keen on listening to his apologies either."

Harry just kept staring at Remus with hopeful eyes, eyes that had not seen any real horrors, and a mind that could not understand the depth of depravity men could sink to if they let themselves.

"So you're saying I have to do this alone?" Harry asked nervously, ignoring his cousin's bluster of indignation.

Remus gave the young boy a gentle smile.

"No, I am not saying that at all Harry. But the best way to trust someone is for them to trust you, to make your own friends and allies. There is no magic to ensure those you wish to trust are in fact trustworthy. There are vows and enchantments that will provide you an additional, and rather false, layer of security, but not a lasting way to ensure the state of a person's loyalties. And if there were, I would beg you not to do so, for that is a dark sort of magic, controlling people in such a way, however well meant – and dangerous as well. Vows in and of themselves are not, but they do make it obvious you don't trust them, particularly if you are not careful of the wording. But more importantly, they should not be used on frivolous things as they tend to be life or death in nature."

"A vow," Harry mumbled to himself, taking in the rest of his uncle's advice. Finally, he nodded slightly.

"Well, I can trust you though, right?" The young boy asked, shifting the conversation slightly.

"Of course you can, pup."

Harry smiled slightly. "You were a friend of my parents', so was Uncle Peter. But they must have had other friends. Other people close like family, didn't they?"

"Not as close, but yes, they did," Remus murmured thoughtfully. "I take it you would like to meet them?"

Taking in both boys' expressions, Remus just sighed. "Once your aunt tells you the rest of the story Harry, if you still want to, I'll be sure to try and arrange a meeting for you with some of them."

The sandy haired werewolf couldn't help but smile at the shining and happy expression on the boy he doted on like he would his own.

Snape had debated sending a sniping response back, or at least choosing one of the more incorrigible birds to return the letter. In the end, he scrapped the idea in favor of framing Lily's picture. The well of memories, hopes, and regrets the simple photograph brought to the surface was far too full and encompassing for him to focus on much else immediately.

This distractedness had the unfortunate side effect of drawing attention from the other members of the Hogwarts' staff, not to mention the students. Severus would later pin down the source of the problem on a Gryffindor first year. Snape wasn't sure where the child had been originally been heading, but the young Gryffindor ended up on the floor after running into the Potions Master and immediately hitting the ground. Snape had absentmindedly helped the young child up and then continued on his way, his attention far too wrapped up to dignify the vagabond with a comment of any sort.

Dumbledore would later genially offer him a sherbet lemon and ask if he was feeling quite well. Not about to be mollycoddled (or worse, distracted), Snape put him off with his usual vitriol, thus assuring the man he was quite well in his own way. The other staff members' curiousity was not as easily put to rest. Professor Sprout defended his actions, but the rest were far too curious as to why he had decided not to even speak to the firstie, much less lose the opportunity to take points from Gryffindor.

The Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor had not forgotten about Severus' odd display at lunch. She, however, was willing to let it go in favor of pursuing a lead on a personal project of hers – discovering the reason Harry's godfather could betray him.

There were several possibilities as far as Minerva could tell. James and Lily could have theoretically used Muggle means to name the godparents. Lily could have named a different godfather, intentionally or unintentionally, before James actually named Sirius. Or, the third possibility, was that Sirius had already betrayed the Potters in his heart by the time of the christening, and therefore the magic would have settled on someone nearby who had not.

The question was figuring out which possibility was, in fact, the case. Unfortunately, it was incredibly tricky to prove a matter of godparentship. The matter was made particularly difficult when the birth parents were not around to ask for insight, or even to provide memories.

In an attempt to rectify this, she had been searching for those who actually had been at the christening. Sadly, given the situation of the Wizarding World at the time there had been very few present. The Longbottoms, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and another of Lily's friends whose name she could not quite pin down right now.

Peter had never resurfaced with a definite location after the Order had helped heal him after the disastrous confrontation with Black, so he was out. If all else failed, she could track down his work, but word had it that the Order of Merlin winner disappeared for weeks at a time. Who knew how long it would take to pin the man down? The only option she was sure could be found was Remus Lupin. For some reason, the owls she sent him kept being diverted. The only time she had successfully sent anything to him was when his own owl showed up. It was really quite puzzling.

Shaking off this mystery, the professor focused on preparing for today's lessons instead – something concrete and definite, over the possible may be of her current pet mystery.

"Dudlykins, Harry dear… why don't you join us? You can finish your tea later. I'll be sure to reheat it and get some fresh biscuits for you both."

Harry and Dudley exchanged looks at this. Aunt Petunia rarely called them by their pet names any more. That was one warning sign… but she also never asked them to just stop eating. And the promise of more biscuits – while appealing – also set off little alarm bells in both boys' minds.

Uncle Vernon was sitting rigidly on the couch, paper folded neatly in his lap.

"There are certain things we need to tell you, now that you're old enough to understand," Vernon growled out using a tone most associated with 'great importance' but was probably caused by constipation of the brain.

After some stumbling, Dudley finally managed to get say the first thing that had come to mind. "Erm… Uncle Peter already told us about the birds and the bees, Dad."

"Not that sort of talk, Popkin." Petunia reassured them both with an uneasy smile. "Come now, sit down."

Uneasily, the two boys sunk into the couch, looking between the faces of both their guardians.

The firm grip Vernon had on the chair arm and his reddened face the only visible indications of stress. Suddenly, Vernon simply blurted out, "You have magic, boy."

Given that his gaze was fixed on Harry, there was little doubt as to whom he was talking about.

The boys, for their part, were extremely excited. Not that magic was real, given they already knew that, but because the big secret was finally being revealed.

"How do you know?" Harry asked curiously. "Were my parents magic?"

"How could you not be?" Petunia responded, spitefully at first. She saddened after a moment, remembering her little sister, and how things had fallen apart so easily. "Yes, Lily was. Our parents were so proud the day she got her letter. We had a witch in the family. For the longest time, I thought she was just a freak."

Her gaze turned and focused on the two boys.

"She went off to that school, and then she met Potter, and then she had you, and I knew you would be just as strange, just as… abnormal." As cutting as the words were, they were also stated honestly and without vitriol. "Because that seems to be the best way to describe magic, no self respecting educated normal person really believes in magic after all."

"How come I don't have magic, then?" Dudley spoke up, a smuggled biscuit in his hand as he looked to his mother. "If Aunt Lily had it, why don't you or I?"

Petunia was spared having to answer this question by the query that tumbled out of her nephew's mouth moments later.

"Wait, there's a school?"

After the talk with his aunt and uncle, Harry had known that it was time to seek more information. He would not be seeing Uncle Remus for another week, but their uncles were not the only source of knowledge. After some debate, Dudley and Harry had both come to an agreement – it was time to suss out what Mafalda knew.

"I just don't understand why you want to see her, much less talk to her is all, Harry," Linda's voice trailed the raven haired boy down the hallway.

"She knows things, Linda. Look… I just need to talk to her, okay? I swear I'm not plotting with her to prank your room or anything."

"Harry, she's two years younger than us. What could she possibly know that I don't?"

The girl had finally caught up with Harry and was currently staring at him exasperatedly. When she caught Harry's guilty look however, that soon changed to surprise.

"You're hiding something from me."

He shuffled his feet a bit, glancing down.

"It's personal, Linda."

"What, but Mafalda knows? It's not too personal for you to tell her!"

"No," Harry corrected, "Mafalda knew before I met her."

Clearly not ready to relent, Linda's eyes narrowed dangerously at the green eyed boy.

"Linda, it's complicated, and it's a secret. It is not just my secret either, so I can't just tell you."

Linda just flicked her hair and walked away with a muffled, "Whatever."

Sighing, Harry knocked on the door to Mafalda's room. He was only able to muster up half a smile when the door swung open underneath his hand. The redheaded girl gave him an inscrutable look before grabbing his hand and leading him to the study. Harry was a bit confused at first until he realized the study had French sliding doors. This had the handy side effect of letting them be in a room alone without getting the talk about 'we need to know where you are and what you are doing'. Only Linda's parents seemed to really care about this, but seeing as they were currently at the Williams' house, it actually mattered.

"What did you want to see me for?" Mafalda asked curiously. She sat down before adding with an impish smile, "Especially that's so secret."

Harry was not in any mood for games, so he answered bluntly. "You know about magic."

The redheaded girl arched an eyebrow in response.

"There's really a whole society? And a school?"

Mafalda nodded at this.

"I was surprised that you didn't know. I mean, you're Harry POTTER. I recognized you the moment I saw your scar."

Harry frowned slightly at this as his hand flew up automatically to his forehead.

"What's so special about my scar? Other than it's aggravating persistence in not wanting to fade away?"

Mafalda gave him a very odd look, then took a deep breath and began.