A/N: Hello at last darlings! I do apologise (again) for the delay on this chapter, but I promise my neglect was not deliberate. Unfortunately, my unceasing battle with morning sickness has been keeping me largely out of commission for a few weeks, culminating in learning this past week after an extremely frightening day that I actually have been suffering a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum. It is not a lot of fun, but my physician tells me that though it is rare it is more common in women who are having multiples and in the first pregnancy… and luckily there is a good chance that the worst of it will abate when I am a few weeks farther along. It might be a long few weeks, however; so please bear with me.

In more uplifting news, James and I did tell our respective families and a few of our close friends this past week-end, which was quite exciting. My mum was near to impossible to shake for two straight days… and his was even worse! To our mutual horror, they have begun to conspire together on everything from how we ought to furnish the nursery to what the babies' names should be… and all this in three days. (As if I needed more reason to sick up!) Also did end up needing to tell my boss early in order to work at home for a while; but at least that ought to give me more writing time!

In story news… I wasn't quite able to get to the quidditch match in this chapter… I thought initially we'd be there, but the pre-match story took longer than I anticipated. We'll be playing quidditch next chapter instead. I shall work very hard to get that up as soon as possible.

Review responses at the end of the chapter. A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed chapter 17! I really appreciate it, and was very touched by how many people enjoyed the memory sequences. As always, I encourage everyone to share their thoughts as we continue the story!

In any case, here is chapter 18 – and I do hope you all like it!

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DISCLAIMER: Any and all familiar characters and story lines are the property of the wonderful Joanne Rowling, in whose world I am honoured and privileged to have an opportunity to play for a while.

Chapter 18: Of Scarlet and Gold

The few days after Harry's birthday were wonderful. At last, it seemed that the adults had moved past his rash decision to pursue Sirius Black through the grounds, and everyone was perfectly normal again. Hagrid surprised Harry on Monday morning with the exciting news that he'd been made a Hogwarts professor for the upcoming term, explaining at last why he'd been so often absent from the castle in the month that Harry had been back. Harry couldn't have been more thrilled for his giant friend, who was nearly in tears with his own happiness. He was a bit less enthusiastic when Hagrid announced that he had 'really excitin' stuff' planned for Harry's form that September… but he did his best to keep the smile hitched on his face and his reservations out of sight for now. Perhaps he would have a word with Albus later, just to be safe.

Remus, to Harry's concern and disappointment, had fallen ill again the day after his birthday. He spent three days in his quarters unable to have visitors, and looked drawn and thin when at last he re-emerged at breakfast on Wednesday. Still, he brushed off Harry's anxiety with a smile, assuring him that he was well enough for their lessons that day. And, indeed, Harry found Remus as good as his word. He was extra pleased when he managed to produce an unusually light and larger silver shield against the boggart-Dementor and – though his knees were rather shaky – kept his feet the entire time. Remus was delighted with his progress, and gave him a heartfelt clap on the shoulder in celebration that nearly buckled his quaking legs.

Snape was… well, Snape. Which, considering their odd interactions the week before, came as a bit of a relief to Harry. He'd finally managed to master a semblance of the summoning charm in lessons with Minerva, which meant he and Snape could return to the task they'd set out to accomplish before that fateful afternoon of chaos. Harry was still having trouble mastering the wordless attempts; but he did find he could perform the spell wandlessly at least. Snape was, predictably, unimpressed by the half-accomplishment. Harry, on the other hand, was elated.

The only spot of darkness in his otherwise happy week was the headmaster's increased absences once again. Dumbledore's birthday fell on Tuesday, and yet they'd barely had time for a rushed dinner and a few presents before the headmaster was called away on an urgent message from the Ministry. They hadn't had time for any lessons together at all, with the madness of Albus' summer commitments. And Harry was particularly unhappy to hear that the headmaster would not be able to accompany him and Minerva to Edinburgh at the end of the week for the professional quidditch match. Unfortunately, the match had been rescheduled to Friday, 6 August rather than the final week of the holiday, due to some sort of conflict with the Austrian team. The change of date suited Minerva far better, as she had been anxious that they were pushing up against the start of term with the original scheme. However, the new arrangement meant that Albus could not attend the match, as he was needed at the annual International Confederation of Wizards conference, which was to be held in Prague the same week-end.

Every night, Harry entered the Pensieve. Minerva, who had been furious that he'd stayed up so late to watch three on his birthday, insisted on a limit of one per evening, which she strictly enforced. Harry was irritated by this sanction at first… but then he decided he rather liked it. It spread the joy of seeing his parents' past out a little longer, and made the anticipation all that much sweeter. So far, in addition to the first night's memories, he'd seen his father lead the Gryffindor team to victory in the Quidditch Cup; his mother and Minerva preparing a highly amusing tea party, in which both Albus' and James' teacups ended up on their noses; and an entertaining afternoon when Aberforth had dropped by the cottage while Minerva and Albus had charge of Harry alone, when he'd been about seven months old.

Tonight, however, he contemplated the phials with careful consideration – willing a good choice to jump out at him. It was Wednesday; the last night he'd have to view a memory before they returned from the excursion to Edinburgh. The headmaster was out of the castle again, but Minerva had promised to accompany him in Albus' stead. He wanted to make it count.

At last, his hand came to rest on a promising silver phial. He lifted it gingerly out of the purple velvet, handing it to the Transfiguration teacher. She took it gently.

'Whose memory is it?' Minerva asked, considering the phial through narrowed eyes.

'I'm not sure,' said Harry with a shrug. 'Albus didn't label any of them… so I never know whose I'm going to get. Or exactly what I'm going to get. But there hasn't been a disappointment yet. It's rather fun, actually – to have a bit of a surprise.'

Minerva still looked doubtful, but she poured the phial obediently into the basin.

'Shall we?' she asked, holding out a hand for Harry to come closer. He nodded, taking it.

They leaned forward together, and Harry felt himself fall into the depths of the Pensieve once more.

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He recognised his surroundings immediately. They were in the Hog's Head, looking just the same as ever. The place was a bit fuller than Harry had ever seen it in his physical visits, but he supposed that might be the time of day: judging by the darkened windows and roaring fire, it was past nightfall. Aberforth was busy tossing pints of ale and glasses of whisky at various patrons seated at the counter and in the little round booths. For a minute or so, Harry didn't recognise anyone else in the pub.

Then the door chimed the entry of a new patron, and Harry saw his father sweep into the room. James was pink in the face and a bit windswept, and flecks of melting snow clung to the shoulders of his travelling cloak as he removed it.

'Abe!' James hailed the barman, seating himself on a corner stool.

Aberforth grunted something in greeting, still busy serving a couple of warlocks on the other side of the counter. He dropped their drinks with a thud in front of them, then turned at last to see James.

'What's Albus want now?' he grumbled in a low voice, leaning over the bar toward Harry's father. 'Thought I'd get more than a few hours' peace, at least.'

But James shook his head, darting his eyes nervously about the crowded room.

'Not here for him,' he muttered back. 'Can't get a Firewhisky, can I?'

Aberforth frowned at him, but reached beneath the bar for a dusty bottle. He poured a measure of the whisky for James.

'Drinking alone at Hallowe'en?' he said mockingly. 'Never thought that was your style. But then, haven't seen much of you since June, outside Albus' little parties… thought you might have forgotten where I lived.'

James gave a half-hearted smile, downing most of the drink in one. 'Things have been a bit hectic since,' he said apologetically. 'I kept meaning to pop by, but…'

'Aye, I get it,' Aberforth assured him. 'I'm just taking the mickey, boy. Where's the rest of your gang, then? Scared off by the storm?'

'Not coming,' James said, shaking his head. 'And honestly – a snowstorm on Hallowe'en? I ask you; as if we needed any more confirmation that the world is collapsing around us.'

'World's always on the brink of collapse,' Aberforth said darkly, topping off the glass of whisky. 'All we can do to tape her back together.'

'Cheers,' James muttered, lifting the drink. He drank deeply again, shaking his head a bit as he set the glass back down.

'So, if you're not meeting the rest of the trouble-makers and you're not here for Albus, what's got you down this way, Potter?' Aberforth asked.

James looked nervous, glancing shiftily around again. When it appeared nobody was watching them, he reached into the folds of his robes, pulling out a small and very old-looking box of green velvet. He pushed it gingerly across the bar toward Aberforth, who took it in gnarled fingers and popped the lid.

A beautiful ring was set in the box, sparkling even in the dingy light of the pub. Harry and Minerva moved a bit closer to get a better look. The ring was old fashioned, glittering with an array of diamonds in a gold band. The centre stone, however, was a gorgeous, square-cut ruby, in deepest scarlet.

Aberforth whistled. 'Cheers, mate, but I'm afraid I'm a bit too much for you to handle,' he quipped. James scowled, swiping the ring back. He studied the effect of the light on the stones, frowning contemplatively at the box.

'I don't know if she'll like it…' he mused in an undertone. 'It's a bit dated, I suppose.'

'You must have spent a fortune,' Aberforth said, shooting a casual flick of his wand over his shoulder as he spoke. Harry saw a grubby looking man on the other side of the U-shaped counter give a muffled yelp, pulling back his hand from where he'd clearly been attempting to nick a refill without the barman's notice.

James shook his head. 'It was my grandmother's,' he said quietly. 'She left it for me. And I just… I don't know. It seemed to suit for Lily.'

'Gryffindor colours,' Aberforth noted, shaking his head. 'So typical.'

'I've been carrying it for six months,' James continued, apparently not having heard Aberforth's remark, 'Trying to find the right moment. It's hard to do romance, in a war.'

'So you decided on Hallowe'en?' Aberforth said, rolling his eyes. 'Can't think of a more romantic evening. You been taking advice on that front from my brother too?'

'Stop taking the piss, won't you?' complained James, frowning. 'I'm struggling here.'

'I –'

'Oi, Abe, chuck us two more!' A boisterous wizard barked from a far table, banging an empty bottle down in front of him. Aberforth pointed a finger at James to stay put, then bustled away to drop off the fresh round to the impatient wizard and his companion and see to a few of his other customers. James continued to stare pensively at the ring while the barman did his duty.

'Look lad,' Aberforth said reasonably, returning to Harry's father a few minutes later, 'I'm just giving you a hard time – you know that. But if you're asking my opinion, I think you're too young to be making this kind of decision.'

James' frown deepened. 'Why?' he asked simply.

'Because you lot are just out of school,' Aberforth pointed out gruffly. 'Because you're barely of age. Because you're still young enough to think Hallowe'en is a romantic time to pop the question,' he said, rolling his eyes again.

'None of those are good reasons,' James disagreed calmly. 'First off, Hallowe'en is special for us… we got together on Hallowe'en.'

'Last Hallowe'en,' Aberforth said. 'It's barely been a year, lad. A lot can change. People can change. In twenty years, you might look back at yourself at eighteen and not even recognise the person you were then, the things and people you cared about. Trust me… life has a way of altering people, especially when things are hard. You can't know what you'll want in future.'

'This won't change,' James insisted, his jaw set. 'I would have asked her a year ago, if I thought she'd have said yes. I love her. I've always loved her. I can't imagine a world in which I could ever not love her. She's everything, Aberforth. And if this… if this war continues, we've no idea what might happen. Whether I have a hundred years left or a hundred seconds, I want to spend every one of them with Lily Evans.'

Aberforth considered him seriously. 'Aye,' he said at last. 'There is that.'

James sighed, tucking the box away again and picking the whisky back up. 'So, don't give me away when she gets here.'

Aberforth, who'd been reaching to refill the tumbler again, poured the drink onto the bar in distraction. 'Here?' he repeated, shocked. 'You're doing it here, boy?'

James shrugged. 'Well, yeah,' he admitted, using his own wand to clear the mess. 'I mean… I wanted to do it back in McGonagall's classroom: that's where we started off. But I don't want to bother her now. Not after the ruckus yesterday, and dealing with the students and the feast and everything.'

'What happened yesterday?' Harry asked Minerva in an undertone. But she, who was watching James with a sad and tender expression, merely shook her head, nodding him to continue watching.

'Have you seen him yet?' James was asking.

Aberforth grunted. 'Went up this morning. He'll live to torture us all for some time yet. Let's get back to why you've decided my pub would make for a romantic proposal. Between that and your sense of timing, boy, I'm seriously questioning your judgement.'

James gave a low chuckle, but he was saved his answer as Lily entered the pub, a burst of snowy wind sweeping her through the door.

'Merlin it's freezing out there!' she said, shrugging out of her cloak and rubbing her arms a bit as she made to join the men. 'Good evening, Abe,' she greeted the barman, leaning across the counter to kiss him on the cheek.

'Lovely as ever, Evans,' he greeted her back, sliding a butterbeer across before she could ask. She took it with a smile, hopping onto a stool next to James.

'How's Albus doing?' she asked.

'With any luck we'll all get a few days' respite from his meddling,' Aberforth said in a careless tone.

Lily frowned. 'You shouldn't be so cavalier, Aberforth,' she chided him. 'If it weren't for him, the whole town might have been massacred. And he's exceedingly lucky… any other wizard would have been killed.'

'Well, might do him some good to remember he's as mortal as the rest of us,' the barman grumbled. But his attitude softened as Lily's eyes flashed. 'Rest easy, pet. He's just fine.'

James had not yet spoken. He was staring at Lily with his jaw set, a bit green about the ears. Harry's mother seemed to notice. She touched his arm, looking concerned.

'Are you alright, James?'

'Marry me,' he said huskily. His voice was so low, and the blunt request so choked, that Harry might have missed it if he hadn't known the question was coming.

Lily raised an eyebrow. 'I beg your pardon?'

'Marry me,' James repeated.

Lily pulled her arm back, her expression somewhere between shocked and thrilled. But then her eyes grew steely, and she glared back.

'You cannot,' she hissed in a dangerous voice, 'Possibly be proposing to me slouched over a barstool, James Potter. How many has he had?' she demanded, turning her accusatory glare on Aberforth. But the barman backed away in silence, his eyes dancing in a way that reminded Harry heavily of Albus.

James gave Lily a crestfallen look. 'Are you saying no?'

'I'm saying nothing if you don't ask properly,' Lily insisted, crossing her arms expectantly.

For a beat, James merely gaped at her. And then a broad smile lit up his face, and he dropped gracefully from the stool onto one knee. Slowly, he pulled the little velvet box from the pocket of his robes, lifting the lid to show Harry's mother the beautiful ruby ring. Lily's eyes widened as the stones caught the light.

'Lily Jane Evans,' James said solemnly. 'You are all I have ever wanted, and so much more than I have ever deserved. I can think of nothing else; I see nobody else. You have my heart; you are my heart. You are my world. You are my light. You are the love of my life. And I want to spend my life with you. Always. So… please, for Merlin's sake, will you marry me?'

The entire pub was watching them now – from the impatient tipsy wizard in the corner booth to the grubby would-be thief on the opposite side of the U-shaped bar. Minerva had tears in her eyes from her place next to Harry, and Aberforth was looking predictably uncomfortable with the raw emotions. Even Harry, who knew how this had all turned out in the end, found himself holding his breath.

Lily smiled, standing from her stool. 'Yes,' she said simply, offering her own hand.

James slipped the ring onto it at once, grinning as it slid into place. It was a perfect fit.

Then he was on his feet even more quickly than he'd dropped to the floor, pulling her into his arms; and Lily was laughing, and Aberforth was grunting, and someone across the pub started a round of applause and wolf-whistling that nearly deafened them all. And Harry's father and mother were spinning and kissing: caught in their moment of blissful oblivion amidst a war-torn world.

And then the memory scene was fading again, and Harry and Minerva were pulled from the past.

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'Aberforth's,' said Minerva as they landed in the office again. 'I am glad he thought to include this one.' She stared down into the swirling Pensieve, running a finger along its edge.

'He proposed on Hallowe'en?' Harry said, grinning ear to ear. Minerva's answering smile was sad.

'Yes,' she said softly. Her eyes, to Harry's surprise, were still swimming slightly. 'Aberforth hadn't told me the full story before… Three years to the day. How awful.'

Harry's own joy faded as he watched her, a sense of foreboding creeping in. 'What are you talking about?' he asked in a whisper.

Minerva looked sharply at him for a moment. Then she bit her lip. 'Harry, I –'

'Three years to the day from what, professor?' Harry asked in a louder voice. He thought he knew. But he wanted her to say it anyway.

'I thought you knew, Harry,' she said apologetically. 'I would never have said –'

'That's when they died, isn't it?' Harry interrupted hoarsely. 'Hallowe'en…'

Of course it was. He didn't need Minerva's quiet nod. It made an ironic sort of sense… in that cruel, twisted way so many things in his life seemed to these days. He felt his stomach roil – thinking of the blissful ignorance with which he'd looked forward to Hallowe'en at Hogwarts: to the feast, the merriment. He'd been laughing and joking and watching Hagrid grow pumpkins the size of carriages… while in some distant churchyard, his parents marked another year cold in the ground.

How could he not have known?

'I'm surprised nobody has mentioned it before,' said Minerva, breaking into his thoughts as she came to lay a hand on his shoulder. 'I would have expected your aunt and uncle had told you at some point, or that you'd read about it. It is in quite a few of our history books, after all.'

'They never told me anything, if they could avoid it,' said Harry bitterly. 'They never spoke of either of my parents. And I won't read the histories. Hermione tried to make me once, just after we became friends in first year. But it felt too…' he shrugged. 'Anyway, I knew it was about that time, I suppose. I knew I was fifteen months old give or take, and I knew I got there somewhere near to Bonfire Night. But I never knew the date before.'

'I'm so sorry, Harry,' Minerva said again.

'It's fine,' said Harry gruffly. 'You couldn't have known.'

Suddenly, he was rather wishing he hadn't seen this particular memory… hadn't had to have this conversation. He shook out from under her arm.

'I'm tired,' he said quietly. 'I'm going up to bed, if that's alright.'

'Of course,' said Minerva. But she looked uncertain. 'Do you need anything?'

Harry shook his head. 'I'm fine,' he lied. 'Goodnight.'

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Albus returned to the castle very late indeed, and the grounds were still and silent in the summer darkness. The castle stood in blackness as well, except for a lone, flickering light in the headmaster's tower. Albus frowned as he considered it – it was well past two. He hoped Minerva was not waiting up for him.

He sighed as he made his way through the doors of Hogwarts and up the many flights of stairs to his quarters. It had been another long day.

Fawkes trilled softly in greeting as he entered the darkened study. He stopped for a moment to discard his travelling cloak and stroke the phoenix's head. The mere touch alleviated some of his stress. His eyes wandered to the desk, where someone had left the Pensieve out, empty of memories tonight. He wondered if Harry and Minerva had ventured together through another of Harry's gifts, or if Minerva had been using it for personal reasons. He had half a mind to do so himself, as he fought against the onslaught of churning and disturbing thoughts preying on his mind. But the contemplation reminded him of the flickering candle, and he made instead for the staircase.

To his surprise, the phoenix accompanied him, heralding his passage as he made his way down the corridor at the top of the stairs. But Fawkes did not continue to the headmaster's chamber. Instead, he hovered outside Harry's room, watching Albus expectantly. Frowning, the headmaster turned the handle and pushed the door gently open.

Harry was sitting up in the bed, a photo album open in his lap. He looked up as Albus stepped through the door, his face bearing every sign of recent tears.

'Are you alright, child?' Albus asked in concern, shutting the door quietly and flicking a hand to brighten the light of the room.

Harry said something in surprise, but Albus could not hear. For a moment, he was confused. Then, in a flash, he realised the problem.

'Finite,' he muttered, waving his wand once before him. There was a shimmering of purple haze, and the charm dispersed. Harry went a bit pink as he registered his mistake.

'Why have you placed a silencing charm around the bed, Harry?' Albus asked, seating himself on the edge and looking seriously into the boy's face. Harry's blush deepened.

'I didn't want to wake anyone,' he said to his knees. 'And I had a feeling I might, tonight.'

'Did you have a nightmare?' Albus asked softly. Harry nodded, still not meeting his eyes. 'Harry,' Albus said gently, 'You know we do not mind if you wake the entire castle. We would much rather know something is wrong, and know it immediately, than have you suffer. Have you been setting these charms often?'

Harry shook his head. 'No,' he said quietly. 'This was the first time. I wasn't even sure it would work… but I found the spell in one of the Charms books in the library and thought I'd try it out.'

'An impressive feat,' Albus said, giving Harry a small smile. 'That charm is not usually taught until your fifth year. I shall have to tell Filius. He will be delighted.'

Harry gave half a smile in reply, but still did not raise his head. Albus squeezed his knee gently.

'Are you feeling alright?' he asked in concern, studying Harry closely. 'Do you need a potion to help you fall back to sleep?'

The child shook his head. 'No, thank you,' he said. 'But it wasn't that kind of dream. I just… I didn't want to go back to sleep just yet.'

'Hmm,' Albus said, still considering him. 'I wish you would look at me, Harry.'

Reluctantly, the boy raised his chin, meeting Albus' eyes for the first time. The headmaster could read both doubt and sadness in their emerald depths. He frowned.

'What has happened tonight to upset you so?'

Harry shrugged. 'It's nothing,' he said dismissively. 'I'm just being stupid.'

'Harry.'

The child sighed, fingering the book of photos again. Albus saw that it was filled with photographs of James and Lily – the album that Hagrid had given Harry at the end of his first year at the school. He could sense that the boy was working himself toward speech. So he waited.

'I went into the Pensieve again tonight, with Minerva,' he said at last. 'We saw a memory of Aberforth's. It was the night my father proposed to my mother, on Hallowe'en.'

Albus smiled. 'I remember,' he said with a small chuckle. 'James told me the story, a week or so after the fact. I was a little laid up myself at the time, but I would have dearly loved to witness Lily's reaction.'

Harry gave a ghost of a grin. 'That part was funny,' he admitted. Then he frowned again. 'Where were you, sir? They said some odd things – it sounded like you were ill or something.'

The headmaster shook his head. 'I was temporarily indisposed,' he clarified. 'But not ill. There had been an incident in the south of England a day or two before, and I had to perform some unexpectedly powerful magic. It necessitated a few days' recovery, but nothing more. The full story can wait, I think. It is a thrilling tale, and one not best told at two o'clock in the morning.'

Harry raised an eyebrow. 'You had magical exhaustion?' he clarified doubtfully.

Albus chucked again. 'Even old men have their limits,' he said, eyes twinkling. 'And, like all wizards, we must learn to respect them.' He sobered again, as Harry's amusement began to fade. 'Was it seeing the memory that disturbed you?' he asked. 'I cannot imagine Aberforth would deliberately include anything upsetting… but then, Aberforth has a different idea of what sort of things are appropriate for school-age wizards than myself.'

But Harry shook his head. 'It wasn't the memory, exactly,' he said. 'It was just… When we got back, Minerva said something about it being three years to the day from –' he swallowed thickly – 'From the day my parents died,' he finished in a whisper. 'I know it sounds stupid, but I didn't know the date before. Nobody had ever told me.'

'It does not sound foolish at all. Though that is not the way I would have chosen for you to find out,' Albus said softly. 'I am sorry that it came to that. It is a discussion I should have had with you long ago.'

Harry shrugged again. 'It's not your fault,' he said. 'But it did make me feel… I'm not exactly sure. Guilty, maybe, that I didn't know before; or that I hadn't thought to ask. That I'd been celebrating and laughing on Hallowe'en, without knowing it was the day they were killed. Like I should have been paying my respects to them instead. And then I realised: I don't even know where it is they're buried. Or if they're buried at all. Do wizards have funerals? I've never been to one – wizard or Muggle. Did I go to my parents' funeral? Who spoke? What do wizards do? Are people buried, or cremated, or something else entirely? Is there a ceremony in a church? Is there a heaven for wizards? Is there a God?'

Albus held up a hand to calm the series of questions, which was quickly approaching hysterics.

'I can see why such thoughts might disrupt your rest,' he said, with a sad smile. 'And I do not blame you for having them. But first of all, Harry, you should never feel guilty for living your life. It is as I told you on your birthday: these memories are a gift, and a beautiful one, but they are not meant to cast you adrift in a sea of depression. Your parents died so you could live, Harry. And it is not living to spend your days in mourning or guilt. You honour their memory far more by enjoying your life, rather than lamenting theirs.'

'I understand what you're saying,' said Harry, wiping a bit at his face. 'But it isn't so easy. I can't not remember that they're gone. I can't not wonder about where they are now.'

'And I would never expect that of you,' Albus assured him. 'But remembering and becoming consumed with grief that keeps you awake at night are not the same, nor should you feel that you do them a disservice by choosing to move forward. That being said, I shall do my best to answer some of your questions. What I can, at least.'

He removed himself from the edge of the bed, settling more comfortably into the adjacent armchair.

'Your parents, as you know, were residing in Godric's Hollow in a cottage at the time of their deaths. It was not their only home; the Potter family owns a larger house in the countryside of western England, where your grandparents and several generations of your father's family lived for many years. Your grandparents predeceased James, and he did not wish to live in their home again just yet. He and Lily remained in the cottage. The estate, incidentally, is part of your inheritance. You will have the option of living there yourself when you come of age.' Harry looked surprised at this, but he held whatever queries he might have. Albus knew the child's interest in his parents' fates weighed more heavily on his thoughts than any possible claim to unknown property.

'Your parents were buried in the small churchyard in Godric's Hollow,' he told him. 'There is an ancient wizarding presence in the hamlet, although the village today is home to both Muggle and wizarding residents. Many wizarding families have members who have been buried in the churchyard, stretching back generations.' He paused a moment, deliberating.

'Including my own,' he said at last.

He almost regretted it, even as he made the decision. It was not a period of his life Albus ever chose to recount, and even less did he wish to think about it himself. But as he looked at Harry, alone and so small and sad in the bed, he knew that the child needed this: needed some sort of connection he could cling to; someone to understand the grief that was weighing down his soul.

Harry's eyes widened. 'Your family is from Godric's Hollow?' he asked quietly. 'Did you grow up there, sir?'

'Yes, in part' said Albus, very quietly. 'Many, many years before your parents came to live there. My family's cottage, in fact, was only two doors down from James and Lily's. I was born in an English village called Mould-on-the-Wold, but we relocated to Godric's Hollow when I was ten years old. I lost both my parents when I was quite young, though not nearly as young as yourself. My mother died just after I left Hogwarts, and was buried in the churchyard not far from where your own parents were laid to rest. My father had predeceased her.'

'I'm sorry,' said Harry softly, reaching a small hand over to squeeze Albus' arm in an odd reversal. 'I never knew.'

'It is many years ago, now,' said Albus, trying for a lighter tone. 'But I do thank you, all the same.'

Fawkes, who Albus had nearly forgotten about in the midst of the conversation, trilled from his chosen perch atop Harry's wardrobe, fluttering down to rest between them on the edge of the bed. Harry ran the fingers of his other hand down the bird's wing feathers. Like Albus in the study, the child seemed to draw a quiet strength from the phoenix's warmth.

The headmaster cleared his throat. 'In any case,' he continued. 'The ceremony for your parents was a very private one, given the chaos of the time and the circumstances surrounding their deaths. However, you will find as you grow up that privacy in the wizarding world is about as well-respected outside of Hogwarts as it is within her walls, and just as difficult to keep. No less than three hundred people, therefore, ended up in attendance at your parents' funeral. You were not among them, as for your own safety I had decided against exposing you to a crowd I myself would not be able to subdue. Indeed, I strongly suspect a great deal of those who turned out for the services did so at least in part for hope of seeing you. As neither of your parents left surviving wizarding relatives, I handled most of the arrangements myself with the help of a few of their closer friends. Remus spoke at the interment, as did I. Their graves are marked with a joint stone of white marble.'

'So they were buried?'

'Yes,' Albus affirmed. 'Burial is the traditional custom among most wizards, although there are some who choose an alternate form of committal, as there are in the Muggle world. Your other questions, however, are not so easily answered. Some wizards attend church, but it varies greatly, as it does with our Muggle counterparts. Our funeral services are not usually held in a church, however. Most wizards choose a graveside ceremony, if only because there is a certain amount of magic that is usually involved in the final farewell and such spellwork can be tricky indoors. Almost all churches, in this country, are Muggle-run. Most wizards are not religious in the traditional sense, but that is not to say that we do not believe in a higher power. It is a great tragedy that some among us begin to feel, with all our powers in the physical realm, that there could be nothing greater than the triumph of wizarding kind. What is magic, if not a gift from some force beyond our control? The most powerful forms of magic are rarely linked to our books or cleverness or endless incantations – they are a manifestation of goodness.

'And there is, most assuredly, a world beyond our own. What that existence is or what its capabilities are, I could not tell you. But I hope, one day, we will both be lucky enough to find out for ourselves. And I am certain your parents, and my own, will be there to welcome us when that day arrives.'

Harry was still stroking Fawkes' feathers, but he seemed less melancholy than before. Albus was feeling tired again; this deep conversation was not what he had anticipated for the end of the evening.

'Will you take me there?' Harry asked, looking up from the phoenix. 'Maybe at Hallowe'en this year? I'd like to go… just to see.'

Albus hesitated. It wasn't a journey he relished. Even when Lily and James had been living in the village, he'd always apparated directly to their gates. He very, very rarely visited the churchyard. It was far too painful. Even speaking to Ariana's portrait was a monthly trial.

But Harry was staring expectantly at him with raw desperation in his eyes… and Albus could not deny him.

'Of course,' he promised, trying to hide his own reservations. Harry smiled.

'Now,' the headmaster said, getting to his feet again. 'It is really very late, and you do not want to be tired on the morrow. We should both be getting to bed.'

Harry frowned. 'But, aren't you leaving tomorrow, sir?' he asked.

Albus nodded. 'I'm afraid I must,' he admitted. 'I shall be here in the morning, but I need to leave for the Continent before supper.' He smiled as he saw Harry chewing his lip. 'Do not worry so, Harry,' he said gently. 'It is only for a few days, and your friends will be here tomorrow evening. You will barely notice I am gone.'

'I'd forgotten!' said Harry, brightening at once. 'Minerva said she'd bring them before supper, so we could all leave from here first thing Friday morning.'

'And a wonderful week-end it will be, I am sure,' Albus said, twinkling at him. 'But far more so if you are not dead on your feet. Are you certain you do not require a potion to get some rest?'

Harry shook his head, still smiling. 'I'm good, but thank you,' he insisted.

Albus nodded, heading for the door. The phoenix brushed his head once more under Harry's hand, then took to the air again to follow.

'Oh, and Harry?' Albus said, pausing with a hand on the doorknob. He waited for the boy to look at him. 'No more silencing charms,' said Albus seriously, locking his gaze. 'Or I am afraid I shall be forced to place a monitoring spell on your bed.'

Harry went pink at once, squirming a bit at the childish suggestion. 'Right, sir,' he said, looking embarrassed. 'I promise.'

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'Harry!'

Harry barely had time to brace himself before Hermione's arms were around him; her bushy brown hair all he could see as she clung to his neck. Ron, who had come through the floo ahead of her, gave a noise of protest on Harry's behalf from behind him.

'Hi Hermione,' he said, laughing a little as she straightened out of his embrace.

'Oh Harry, I've missed you so much this summer,' she gushed. 'Has it been alright?'

'Er – yes, very good,' said Harry awkwardly. He wasn't certain where to start. Hermione looked as though she knew what he meant.

'I'm sure things have been quite interesting here,' she said with a knowing smile.

Harry laughed again. 'Well, you know me,' he said, grinning back. 'I'm not much for the quiet life.'

'Oi, when's dinner?' put in Ron in a half-grumpy voice from over Harry's shoulder. 'And what am I, Hermione, mouldy frog's liver?'

Hermione laughed. 'Oh, go on then,' she said, throwing her arms around him too. Ron looked taken aback by the enthusiasm.

'Your parents aren't coming then?' Harry asked, when nobody followed through the fire. He couldn't stop grinning; it was so wonderful to see his friends again. Hermione was quite tan from her holiday abroad, and the Egyptian sun had left Ron frecklier than ever. Harry thought he had also grown at least two inches in the weeks they'd been apart.

Ron shrugged. 'Dad's barely been home since we got back yesterday,' he told them. 'And I reckon Mum's still chatting with McGonagall. But I don't think she'll leave Ginny and the twins alone. She's been in a right state, all this news about Sirius Black. She was ready to call our whole scheme off for the week-end, even with McGonagall coming. Took Dad hours to talk her round.'

Hermione gave a shudder. 'But it's just awful, isn't it?' she said, worrying her lip. 'I mean, it's been over a month already, and they still haven't been able to find him. Even my parents are a bit anxious, and they're Muggles.'

'And nobody knows how he broke out,' said Ron conspiratorially. Unlike Hermione, he seemed to Harry far more intrigued than worried. 'It's never been done before.'

'Or what he's broken out to do,' said Hermione, looking even more concerned.

'I know what he's broken out to do,' said Harry, as lightly as he could.

Both Ron and Hermione stared at him.

'You would,' Ron grumbled. 'Living with Dumbledore, I reckon I shouldn't be –'

'They think he's planning to come after me,' Harry interrupted. Ron broke off his complaint, his mouth remaining comically open mid-word. Hermione cupped a hand to her own.

'Oh, Harry,' she whispered, reaching for him and clutching his forearm tightly. 'I just knew you would play into this somehow. It always does seem to happen to you, doesn't it?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Thanks, Hermione,' he said wryly.

Ron cleared his throat. 'But, mate, there's no way to know that's what he means to do. I mean, they can't even find him for Merlin's –'

'He's been here already,' Harry interrupted again. 'He came into the grounds, a couple weeks back. I met him – in the Forbidden Forest.'

Hermione's hand tightened on his arm. 'You what? But, Harry, what were you doing in the Forest?! You know we're not –'

'I don't need another lecture, Hermione,' said Harry in exasperation. 'And I'm fine, obviously. He didn't kill me. Actually, I didn't even get hurt – well, unless you count Snape cursing me –'

'He what –'

'I knew it!' said Ron, punching a fist into his opposite hand over Hermione's astonishment. 'I knew he was evil – always said it, didn't I? He and Black are probably in it together. Snape's probably how that nutter got out in the first place.'

'It wasn't like that,' Harry disagreed, more sharply than he'd intended. 'You weren't there, alright? You don't get –'

But he was interrupted as the floo burst into green flames once again, and Minerva stepped neatly out onto the hearth rug. She looked a little surprised at the tension in the room.

'Everything alright?' she asked primly, brushing a bit of ash from the sleeve of her robes as she came over to the trio in the middle of the Hall.

'Er – yes, we're fine,' said Harry quickly, schooling his face into a more neutral expression. He wished Hermione would let go of her death grip on his arm.

Minerva looked unconvinced, but she didn't press the point.

'Welcome back, Ms Granger, Mr Weasley,' she said instead, smiling for both of them. 'It'll be another hour or so until dinner, I'm afraid. I have a few things to see to this evening in advance of our departure tomorrow. I would rather you not go into the grounds on your own this late in the day, but if you would like I can ask Hagrid to collect you?'

'Please, professor, might we go up to the library?' Hermione asked.

'The lib–' Ron started, looking horrified, but Harry stamped down on his toes. 'Er – I mean, yes, professor, can we go to the library?' he amended, still having difficulty keeping the pain out of his voice.

'May you use the library,' she corrected. 'And yes, I suppose that would be alright,' she agreed, looking slightly suspicious. 'I will have your things brought up to the Tower for you.'

They gave their thanks quickly, and hurried from the room. Once they had reached the privacy of the deserted library, Hermione rounded on Harry again.

'Harry, what exactly happened in the Forest?' she demanded, still looking stressed.

Harry recounted the events after leaving Snape's classroom: the trip over the grounds, the Dementors, the flight into the Forest, the strange conversation with Sirius Black, and Snape's arrival. He told them about the duel, and how he'd been hit accidentally in the fighting. He told them nearly everything of what had happened afterward… except the realisation that his father and Sirius Black had been friends, at least for a time. He couldn't work out even in his own mind exactly why he'd kept that part of the story to himself… but he just didn't feel ready to say it aloud again. Not yet.

When he'd finished, both Ron and Hermione were staring at him, looking a mixture of sympathetic and terrified.

'Oh Harry,' Hermione said again. 'You never should have been there, you know. If what Dumbledore thinks is true, and it sounds like it is, you're going to have to be so careful. You might have been killed! You're lucky, really, that Snape got there. Even if he –'

'Lucky?!' Ron repeated scathingly. 'Hermione, have you gone mad? He's lucky he didn't lose his leg! I bet it was all an act mate, really I do. Snape and Black have obviously got some kind of history… and they both nearly did you in.'

'He made a mistake, Ron,' Hermione disagreed snappishly.

'A mistake,' Ron scoffed. 'How many times do you reckon it's been a mistake when he's bullied Harry in lessons, eh, Hermione? How many times was it a mistake when he's caught him out? Or caught all of us out, looking to get us expelled?'

Hermione blushed a bit. 'Ron, we were caught breaking the rules,' she pointed out. 'He's a teacher, what more do you –'

'He does it on purpose, Hermione!' Ron insisted. 'He's been out for all of us since day one, especially Harry. He's –'

'This wasn't on purpose,' Harry said firmly, breaking into the row. 'It wasn't, Ron. Hermione's right. Black might have done much worse than Snape's curse could ever have done. And I was lucky he got there.'

Ron gaped at Harry as thought the latter had suddenly expressed a desire to join a band of travelling gypsies.

'Harry,' he said in shock. 'How can you stick up for him? After everything that greasy git has done to us? For all we know, he and Black were probably Death Eater pals back in the good old days.'

Harry felt his blood chill suddenly.

'You can't trust Snape, Harry. He's probably already working with him; they'll kill you if they can. Snape's been dark since childhood, Harry, ever since we were at school. He's dangerous – he's evil. He's a Death –'

'Harry, are you alright?'

He shook himself from the memory. Ron was frowning, and Hermione was peering closely at him.

'What's a Death Eater?' Harry asked, looking at Ron.

'You've never heard of Death Eaters?' asked Ron in surprise. Harry shook his head. 'That's what You Know Who's supporters were called – the close ones, that actually followed him and did his bidding. Some of them were almost as bad as You Know Who, from what Dad says. Sirius Black was a Death Eater, obviously. But loads of them never got caught. They wore masks and stuff: things to conceal who they really were when they were out torturing and killing people. And then a lot of the ones that did get caught pretended they had been bewitched into following You Know Who's orders, and the Ministry let them off. I'd bet anything Snape was a Death Eater, he's definitely evil enough.'

'Ron, you shouldn't say things like that,' Hermione admonished, glancing nervously around the deserted library. 'Snape couldn't have been a Death Eater. Dumbledore would never have let him teach.'

'Snape's not a Death Eater,' Harry agreed quietly. 'And he and Black hate each other. Something about when they were at school together; they're the same age.'

Hermione nodded smugly, but Ron still looked unconvinced.

'Come on,' Harry said, striding for the door again. 'Dinner ought to be ready soon.'

As the trio made their way down to the Great Hall again, Ron and Hermione continued their bickering in low voices. But Harry kept silent, churning everything over in his mind.

Had this been what Sirius Black was trying to say, before they were interrupted in the forest clearing? Was he trying to tell Harry that Snape had been a Death Eater?

But that didn't make any sense. Black was the Death Eater. Black had gone to prison for it. He'd murdered thirteen people with a single curse. Snape was… well, he wasn't exactly kind. But he wasn't really evil – not in the same sense as Sirius Black, and not in the way Ron meant. Harry didn't like Snape much, but he couldn't really hate him, not anymore. Snape was taciturn and irritable and sometimes nasty. He certainly had no love for Harry; and Ron was right, he did try to catch them out whenever he had the opportunity. But he'd also saved Harry's life on multiple occasions. He'd come to find him when he'd run off from Privet Drive. He'd taught him over the summers. He'd been there in the Chamber. He'd had loads more opportunity to hurt Harry than Sirius Black ever could have… and Harry was still alive. And Hermione was right, Dumbledore would never have let Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd been a servant of Lord Voldemort. He would not have insisted on forcing Harry and Snape together at every opportunity. He would not trust him, as he always insisted to Harry that he did.

And yet, as he pushed open the door to the Great Hall, Harry couldn't help but feel that there was some part of this odd story he was missing.

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'No!' Severus snarled, clenching his teeth so tightly he had a vague fear a back molar may crack. His teacup shook in his hand. 'Not a chance, Albus!'

The headmaster remained perfectly stoic, raising an eyebrow as he sipped calmly at his own tea. He was dressed for travelling, and Severus knew he would be setting out as soon as this task had been completed. No doubt he had planned it this way – so he would be gone from the castle if Severus aimed to raise additional objection.

'Are you saying you are not capable of minding three thirteen-year-olds for two days, Severus, because I assure you Minerva will –'

'Of course I am capable of doing it,' Severus interrupted waspishly. 'I do not wish to do so.'

'We all of us must perform tasks we would rather leave to others,' Albus said heavily. 'It is, alas, the burden of humanity.'

'Albus,' Severus groaned. 'I have given my time, my energy and half my holiday to the brat… just how much more am I expected to sacrifice?'

Albus frowned at the phrasing. 'I would not consider it a sacrifice to attend a sporting event and spend a night away from the castle,' he disagreed. 'You have not taken leave in nearly three years, Severus. It might do you well to see beyond the gates for a minibreak.'

Severus wanted to rage and storm. He wanted to curse everything in sight, including the headmaster. But, in deference to their newly-repaired cordiality, he did his best to keep his protests within bounds.

'The Golden Trio will hardly want to spend a week-end with me,' he pointed out. 'This is supposed to be something of a treat, is it not? I rather doubt my presence will enhance the gaiety.'

'Your presence is what you make of it, Severus,' Albus countered.

'Why can you not go yourself, Albus?'

'I am expected in Prague,' Albus said with a sigh. 'There is no way around it. As it is I have raised some eyebrows with my refusal to attend more than two days of the conference. But I will not be away from the castle longer than that while Sirius Black remains at large. And Remus cannot make the journey either, if he is to be ready for autumn term.'

'One of the Weasley parents?' Severus tried.

'Arthur is only just returned,' Albus reminded him. 'He is not able to take time from the Ministry again so soon – not now that Cornelius has pulled everyone from their duties to assist in the hunt. And I cannot ask Molly to leave her other children while she and everyone else are so anxious over the danger of the time.'

Severus frowned. 'Albus, I really think this is a mistake,' he said, almost pleadingly. He could sense defeat in the air.

The headmaster smiled faintly. 'Severus, you would be doing me a great personal favour by consenting to go,' he told him. 'And really, it's a quidditch match in Edinburgh, not a tournament in the Colosseum. Your presence is merely precautionary. How much trouble could they possibly get into?'

Severus raised an eyebrow, blinking his incredulity.

'Potter and his little friends, Albus? Really, I've half a mind to write to the governors. You are growing senile, old man.'

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'How are we getting to Edinburgh tomorrow, professor?' Hermione asked, taking the dish of parsnips from Harry as the four of them began loading their plates. Dinner was just the four of them tonight. Dumbledore had left for the Continent that afternoon, both Remus and Hagrid were running errands in the village, and Snape had sent word to Minerva that he would eat in his quarters that evening.

'We shall be taking a portkey,' Minerva informed her, passing the jacket potatoes to Ron. 'We will need to be ready to leave quite early, so I expect you all to get straight to bed after supper.'

'Of course, professor,' Hermione agreed immediately.

'I've never travelled by portkey before,' Harry put in, a bit nervously.

'Nor have I,' Hermione told him. 'But I've read all about them, and it doesn't sound too difficult.'

'It is not,' Minerva assured her. 'Since there will be five of us travelling and you are all underage, I thought this would be simpler than dealing with multiple side-along apparitions. The headmaster was able to provide a portkey that will take us directly from the castle to the inn we've booked for the night, and we shall have a bit of time for sight-seeing before the match begins in the afternoon.'

'Ooh, I love Edinburgh!' said Hermione enthusiastically. 'I haven't been since I started at Hogwarts. It will be fascinating to see the wizarding parts of the city.'

'Five of us?' Harry repeated, frowning at Minerva. 'I thought Professor Dumbledore couldn't make it?'

'He can't,' Minerva said with a sigh. 'He is abroad until Sunday. But given… the current situation,' she shot a concerned glance at Harry, 'We did not think it advisable to travel without additional supervision.'

'Remus is coming along?' asked Harry, brightening at once. 'Excellent.'

'Unfortunately no,' Minerva said. 'Remus won't be able to accompany us either.'

'But he's feeling better,' Harry pointed out. 'I had lessons with him just yesterday.'

'Yes, but he is busy trying to put together a syllabus for the coming term,' Minerva reminded him. 'We shall need to send booklists forthwith; we've left it far too late already. And Albus has asked for his assistance in strengthening the castle protections.'

'Who's coming with us then, professor?' asked Ron, emerging at last from his roast.

'Professor Snape,' said Minerva. Her voice held a hint of warning, which correctly anticipated the predictable reactions. Ron's mouth fell open in horror as his fork clattered off the edge of his plate to the floor. Hermione looked so quickly between Harry and Minerva that Harry was surprised her neck hadn't audibly cracked. And Harry himself gaped at the professor for a moment in shocked disbelief, before at last he felt he could speak.

'No way,' he said, staring her with pleading eyes. 'You can't be serious.'

'I am perfectly serious, Harry,' Minerva said, even more warning in her tone as she sent Ron's fork back to its place with a flick of her wand.

'But…' Harry sputtered, 'This is supposed to be fun.'

'And it shall be,' Minerva said firmly. 'But I'll not put any of you in danger by travelling without appropriate supervision. Professor Snape will keep his temper, as will the three of you. Or there will be repercussions all around,' she told them sternly.

None of the three children replied, each staring determinedly at their plates. Harry didn't feel remotely hungry anymore. He couldn't help his mind from wandering back to its internal debate…

Was Snape really working for the 'side of the light,' as Remus had told him? Was he trustworthy, as Albus always insisted?

Or was Ron right… was Sirius Black right…

Had Professor Snape been a servant of Lord Voldemort?

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Blue Luver5000: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you liked the last few instalments, and hope you enjoy the continuation.

AECM: Thank you again for reviewing! I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Guest (Second Guest Review for Ch. 17): Thank you! I hope you continue to like the direction we're going in and really appreciate the review!

Lollypops101 (Chapter 15 & 17 reviews): Thank you for your reviews and support! I'm pleased you enjoyed it. And you're right – poor Sirius really finds himself in a desperate situation… I'm also happy you enjoyed the memory sequence : ) I hope you like the continuation!

Valkyrie-Sythe: Thank you for your review! Not quite as swift an update as the last few chapters… but I hope you enjoyed this one too!

Anyeshabaner: Thank you for your review! I'm happy you liked watching Harry's responses. As to your question about Grindelwald… well, I think you've sort of hit the pivotal issue. He's not the hero of the story… is he evil? Is he trying to be good? Is it some odd combination of the two? And how does Dumbledore play into his mindset? I definitely would not say he cares about Harry. He doesn't even know him. I think he's intrigued by Harry, just as he is intrigued by Voldemort. But ultimately, for Gellert, everything hinges on his feelings for and connection with Albus. Exactly what those feelings and intentions are, I won't say. But it's more complex than simply wanting to jerk him around or wanting to aid the headmaster – as some of the other characters have warned and cautioned.

AntiCreator: Thank you for both your three reviews and well-wishes! As to Azkaban, my inspiration for its location was actually related to the some research on ocean topography of the North Sea… which revealed the location of Silverpit crater and some interesting stories about the surrounding waters. I thought it would fit rather nicely into my idea of the location and history. I haven't read the fic you're referring to, but that certainly sounds like an interesting idea as well. To answer your Chapter 11 question, this is set in canon timeline, so the Chunnel was not yet open (it opened in May 1994). I didn't define precisely where the train was taking the Grangers, but they wouldn't have been able to take it to France. I'm very glad you are enjoying both the stories in this series, and hope you will like where this one heads! Thank you again for sharing your thoughts!

AlsoKnownAsMatt: Thank you for reviewing, and I'm really glad you enjoyed The Memories! It was a great deal of fun to write, and I agree that it seemed an important character development moment for Harry, who is always yearning to understand his family. Thank goodness I do not have word limits here… or I fear we would never reach the end of this book! I hope you enjoy the continuation.

Revkah2010: Thank you for your review! I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter and the memories; and I agree, it would have been fun to see JKR show something along these lines (and I'm sure she would have done it better!). I'm glad you liked Sirius's bit too, although I think it was a bit too heavy for a lot of people, I thought it was important to show. I hope you like where we go next!

reader-reader2: Thank you for your review! Great to hear you are enjoying the story, and I hope you continue to do so as things unfold. This is a canon-based series, so many of the events will follow canon events, though timing and perspectives will change. As you have probably gleaned from Part I and from the finished portion of Part II, diversions from canon will slowly become more and more frequent and more and more important as the change in Harry's situation affects his development as well as the other characters. I didn't want to do a sudden and complete diversion the way some writers do… it isn't that kind of story; it's a bit more organic. I wanted to explore how the minor changes evolve and alter the course of Harry's story as things move along. In this particular story, because Harry is at Hogwarts so much earlier and we have all of Part I in place as development, there will be more changes from canon than in the first book. That vector will continue to develop as the series moves forward. I won't answer the query on Sirius's innocence just yet – though a few readers have expressed similar thoughts. I don't want to spoil it though :). As to the Talk (another area that readers are highly intrigued by, which is fantastic!)… staying mum on that for now, but I do think Snape would be amusing… to be frank, any bit of information on life's lessons Snape sees fit to impart are highly amusing. I'll keep your thoughts in mind!

LordTicky: Thank you for reviewing again! I'm very happy you liked the memory sequences. We will definitely be seeing more in future… I won't be doing a full chapter again (at least for a little while); but I also won't gloss over the entirety of the rest. Rather, I plan to intersperse them throughout the story. I hope you enjoy it!

Wide Eyed and Curious: Thank you again for your review! I know it was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, but I promise there are light-hearted moments coming too. We'll definitely be seeing additional memories – though probably not all back to back again for a bit. I hope you enjoyed Chapter 18!

Guest (First guest review for Ch. 17): Thank you for the review! And I apologise for the tears… though, at least, it seems you are in some company this week. I do admit, I did put the dichotomy in this chapter on purpose: I wanted the readers to see the sweeter memories, but the underlying tension of Sirius's very solitary (at this point) struggle is also something I don't want to let fade into the background… and it provided a harsh snap back to reality in this particular instalment. If it makes it at all better, I did think about saving that particular nightmare for a later chapter; but it just fit best in this one. Perhaps I should just blame everything on pregnancy hormones and leave it at that. In any case, I do hope you enjoy the continuation – even if I'm a monster at times! : )

Halfblooddemiwizard: Thank you for the review and support! I'm very glad you are enjoying the story, and again, I do apologise for the tear-jerker of a final flashback in Chapter 17. Hopefully, this one was a bit less emotional for everyone. As for your queries… yes, I can definitely promise we will be delving into runic magic – although that is more of a long-term element than one which will be satisfied in a chapter or two. I wish to do it proper justice. I'm glad you are liking the James/Lily portrayals… they have been fun to write as there is so much unexplored material there, with just hints of their personalities and histories in canon to work with. We will also certainly see more of Harry's gift, though I probably will not do an entire chapter of pure flashback scenes again for a while. They will be more interwoven over the course of the remainder of the book; but I felt it was unlikely Harry would be content with just one memory… I certainly would not have been in his position. And yes, more Harry/Snape/Sirius is definitely coming! This was the first in a long while I wrote without Severus's appearance… and I'm missing him!

Psitomer: Thank you again for your wonderful review! There is no need to apologise for any presidential election dramatics… I am hardly one to blame the innocent. Besides, my mother is originally from New York, so even I can claim some American blood (we also lived there for a short time when I was quite young, and I read for my masters at Columbia University after uni here). In any case, I'm quite fond of the States and am sure everything will work out for the best in the end.

In any case, I'm very glad you enjoyed Chapter 17! I think you are probably right on the self-soothing bit… that is actually a piece I borrowed from my own history; our nanny was always telling my father he couldn't pick us up in the night, or we'd do nothing but scream until we were twenty. And yet… he always came. We turned out alright in the end, although I do think it is a fairly common bit of child-training. Poor Harry certainly would have had to self-soothe at the Dursleys.

Don't worry just yet about Harry's ultimate pairing – we've definitely got a bit of a way to go. And I might explore both options… I enjoy Harry/Ginny, although I greatly disliked her casting and portrayal in the films; she is fierce and (I suspect, anyway) a bit like his mother. I also think there is underlying canon subtext to suggest Harry/Hermione might have been able to make a go of it, particularly in Deathly Hallows (and JKR has definitely commented as such in interviews) – but I enjoy them brother and sister as well. I know with all of my male friends (at least those pre-James, of course), there were certainly 'moments' as you've put it where you start to consider whether you might want something… more, whether that is fleeting or forever. For H/H I think it could work either way, but in this particular retelling of their story I haven't decided just yet. And we will definitely not be moving into some sort of childhood marriage realm. : )

Haha the Talk… it certainly will be a fun scene. I think it differs for many children, but for me, I learned what 'sex' was at about age ten (when my mother was pregnant for the final time – slightly uncomfortable)… and promptly told everyone in my form whose parents hadn't yet had that conversation, to the great chagrin of my own. I then had the much more awkward 'Talk' with my parents in my mid-teens, when I started seriously dating. From my view, Harry probably already knows 'where babies come from' – most likely from other children and maybe pre-Hogwarts. But when it comes time for the 'Talk,' we'll certainly enjoy the awkwardness immensely. Lily and James… still able to embarrass him from beyond the grave; it was just too good an opportunity to pass up (especially Minerva's amusement).

I love exploring so many untold facets of magic – it is difficult, sometimes, to decide what I want to get into in each of these planned books (there will be at least 6, with four to come after this). But I am greatly looking forward to the runic exploration in particular. It would be fascinating to consider non-Western cultures as well, perhaps something to think about in future.

Glad you like the final scene with Sirius… though it was certainly a stark contrast to the lighter tone of the rest of the chapter. I feel we don't really see enough of the First War, so it's exciting – and sad – to get to delve into it a little.

Twins are well so far – fingers crossed! I'm absolutely dying to know what gender they will be… but we've been told that's something we'll find out between 15 and 20 weeks, depending on babies' cooperation. My husband is a surgeon, which is both comforting and maddening at times. He hovers – which is not something I always enjoy… but I think he is even more excited than I am.

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

SpringRoll: Thank you so much for your great review and kind wishes! I'm not so sure about 'perfect'… but I can hardly complain at the moment : ). We're very excited for the madness to come. I must confess to a bit of self-indulgence on the name coincidence as well… the use of 'Jamie' at sweet or terrifying moments is directly adapted from my own habits with my husband.

I'm glad you are enjoying the flashbacks and Pensieve memories, and I'm happy you are feeling this way toward Sirius – that is definitely the intention. It's a heart-wrenching case of what could have been… perhaps even what should have been; but what we all now know can never truly be, at least not in the same sort of sense. Harry has grown up now without Sirius, and life has turned Sirius into a very different person. Part of the excitement of this journey, of course, is discovering if and just how they might make their way back to one another.

Snape… *sigh* another conundrum. But again, I think your feelings on the situation are spot on – exactly how I feel myself, and exactly how I hope readers will also see the relationship. I think 'good terms' is quite a relative concept when it comes to Harry and Severus… and perhaps a changing one. But he fits into the circle in his own grumpy, taciturn, perhaps reluctant way; and I think even Harry can recognise that to some extent. The Sectumsempra bit… I understand the frustration, but I did feel it was necessary to push Severus to a breaking point: for himself and for the other characters. Nobody thinks his intention was to harm Harry, of course, but there is danger in Dark Magic, and – perhaps even more so – in all-consuming revenge. Magic comes at a price. We'll make our way back from it, don't worry.

Also – kudos for picking up on the nod to canon family trees in the naming scene! It was a little digression I was dying to get into : )

I hope you enjoy the continuation!

Citrus Sinensis (Chapters 15, 16, 17): Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews! As you've caught us up now, I decided to put my response in the usual way this time… : )

Chapter 15: I'm glad you liked the bit with Harry and Snape and the interplay of guilt there! And I'm very happy you enjoyed the flashbacks, drama-filled as they undoubtedly were. Hopefully my own experience with childbirth will not be quite so violent as Lily's (and, for the record, I would kill my James if he left me alone when I was a thousand months pregnant); but, at any rate, it seemed to bring Harry into the world in any other fashion would just be inapposite with the fates. On the note about other fics, I hope you are enjoying some of your finds! The two you've mentioned are quite enjoyable in their own ways.

Chapter 16: I'm glad you've brought up Aberforth, because he's one of my favourite characters to explore. Like Grindelwald and Bill and some of the others we've visited, he is such a wonderful invention of JKR… but there just weren't the pages to explore him more fully in the canon originals. I hope he adds a bit of light-hearted humour to some otherwise heavy chapters. Also happy to hear you enjoyed the conclusion of Harry's dramatic birth!

Chapter 17: Yes, definitely the downside to reading an uncompleted fic is the waiting… but don't worry, I intend to be as speedy as possible with updating. Glad you enjoyed the memory bits. I think the first was my favourite to write overall… but I love each of them for different reasons. Little windows into scenes of the past – and we shall definitely see more in future. And you are the second person to bring up the Talk! Haha, it should be fun – but yes, a little bit longer to wait for that particular diversion.

Enjoy the continuation of the story!