I return readers! I have not abandoned this story! This is my first real attempt at writing, so I was ill equipped to deal with many problems writers deal with, such as writer's block. Not to mention I suffer from occasional bouts of depression, which made it very difficult to write and finish this chapter. I could have finished this chapter early, but I didn't want to rush it. You have my deepest apologies for the delay with this chapter, and I hope that I can continue updating at least somewhat frequently.

Several reviews and PMs indicate ask questions like "Harry is a True Magician, why doesn't he just do X?". The reason for this is that, despite his talent with certain, specific magus disciplines, Harry is still an apprentice. He doesn't possess Wishcraft like Illya, so if he wants to accomplish something with his ungodly amount of power, he still has to know how to do it. Really, the only areas of magecraft he truly exceeds in are those having to do with material manipulation. Zelretch is acting as his tutor in the remaining areas, but his attending Hogwarts is slowing that down a bit. Really, his specialties are things like alchemy, mystic code creation, golemancy, and the like. He can manage most other areas of magecraft, but only at relatively average levels.

The Last Rider of Death: This magnanimous and mighty writer tells you that he tries to update weekly, with chapters about 8-10 thousand words, but as evidenced by this chapter, that might change.

heartfanglives: Harry's about as powerful as he's gonna get. Really, the only things he can do from here to advance himself are learn new areas of magecraft and master his existing ones. Also, my problem with FG Harry wasn't his power, but that he becomes entirely inhuman and distant from the reader. I try to keep my Harry firmly grounded in humanity.

cakesnake2.0: OVER 9000!

Raidentensho: I will honestly admit that I do not like Kamen Rider.

Akuma-Heika: That's not my personal belief that Snape is brave. I'm just going off the word of Rowling. Those are only because the U.S legal system is absolutely retarded at times. That's less wizard magic being a legitimate threat to him, and more the girls just being overprotective. Girls start puberty anywhere from 9-14. Even if it's already started, it hasn't taken hold enough to truly affect her.

C.C: I don't say Harry is the only Lord in existence, but the two founder rings he possesses are literally older than Merlin. That would make them pretty damn powerful. Most Lord rings have magical abilities, but not to that degree. Really, I only included the poison bit so that I wouldn't have to write that he checked his food for potions every damn time he eats.

Thundramon: Harry will just use the excuse that he's trying to turn Lucius "light", and using his position in Slytherin to do it. Don't worry, Draco will be coming after Harry the second he learns of the status quo in Slytherin. Archer is becoming the regent for both Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Dumbledore doesn't know what Kiritsugu looks like. They haven't heard about it yet. This Snape still has a thing for Lily, but the younger Lily that was his friend when he was a child. He still acknowledges that the current one isn't the same as his old friend.

Chapter 18: Malfoys and Dursleys

It wasn't until the end of the week that the first years had their first flying lesson. It was a lively affair, with the Slytherins and Gryffindors once again being inexplicably paired up. Honestly, he thought that Dumbledore was just doing it for giggles as this point, especially with Orion in the the man didn't see that pairing the Snakes and the Lions together just served to make them hate each other even more instead of creating "inter-House unity", he didn't know, but he had long since suspected the aged wizard to be going a bit senile and seeing only what he wanted to see. That or he was taking a perverse pleasure in antagonizing the Slytherins and reminding them that HE made the rules and that they should just listen to him.

The fallout from the newspaper article had been even greater than he'd anticipated. If rumors were correct, Dumbledore was already on administrative probation from the whole fiasco, with additional action pending. He'd also received a letter from one Lucius Malfoy, inviting him and the girls to a dinner, citing a desire for his son to get to know his future colleague in the Wizengamot. That excuse was a load of crock, however. To anyone that could read between the lines of the carefully worded letter, Lucius had deduced that power was shifting significantly within his former house, and wanted to get a first-person account of the boy who was the fulcrum upon which it did. Also, from the fact that Lucius had known about not only Illya and Sakura, but Daphne as well spoke to the extent of the man's connections.

He recalled that Professor Snape had spoken of the consummate politician favorably, so he quickly penned a reply accepting his gracious offer, and informing him that, if acceptable, he'd be bringing three Servants. For a traditional Lord, such a thing would be deemed acceptable, though it typically meant house elves rather than actual human maids. His parents would be upset at his accepting the invitation, but he was sure the he could come up with some excuse. Maybe something ridiculous like trying to turn the Malfoy head to the Light or something. People like Dumbledore and James ate shite like that up. Naïve fools.

Another side-effect of his little press insurgency was that the school had also turned its ire further towards the Headmaster, while the Slytherins who already despised him, also began respecting Harry a lot more, since the plan had been pure Slytherin, cunning, ambitious, and more than anything, subtle enough that nobody could trace it back to him. Most of them wouldn't have worked out that he was fully behind the newspaper article, but they had mostly worked out that he'd orchestrated Orion's outburst, and probably also suspected that he'd sent a late-night owl to the Daily Prophet, informing them of the events.

Either way, they were preparing to follow in Daphne's footsteps and swear themselves to him, relatively soon he imagined.

Speaking of Daphne, it seemed that his entourage had grown by one. She'd scarcely left his side since her oath, and was demonstrating similar behavior to a slightly less crazy Bellatrix Lestrange, at least from what he'd seen of the woman in Tom Riddle's memories. While his right hand was firmly taken by Sakura, she had obvious deigns on his left and wanted to get it before the rest of Slytherin made their move.

It was a sentiment he appreciated, if nothing else. From what he'd seen so far, she'd make an excellent second-in-command for his quickly forming army of Slytherins. For a first-year, she was extraordinarily intelligent, magically powerful, and perceptive. She was exactly what he needed if he was to form an organization of the most cunning and ambitious wizards in England. She had everything needed to keep his future followers in check, the only element she lacked, the power to carry on her eventual threats, something that could easily be resolved by assigning one of his maids to help her.

Normally, he would have given Sakura the position, but she didn't trulypossess the attributes needed for the job. While she could be ruthless and downright scary at times, those were mostly situations regarding himself. The rest of the time, she was the same sweet, innocent girl he'd grown up with. Not to mention, he didn't want to involve her in something like this. She had seen enough bloodshed in her life, and he wouldn't be the one to ask her to commit more.

Daphne on the other hand was perfectly happy with killing and torturing. It was what she'd been raised and trained for after all. Harry himself had his own taboos about killing, but they weren't exactly within the norms of society. He wasn't the sort to kill randomly left and right like Tom Riddle had done, but he would kill anyone that became too inconvenient and he couldn't deal with any other way easily. Even out of his Servants, the only one with anything resembling a moral compass was Saber, and even she valued his protection and safety over her personal code. She also knew that he would never ask her anything that would go against said code, so she closed her eyes when it came to the more ruthless aspect of her Master. Archer was far too jaded to possess much of a code these days.

This may make him seem callous or even downright evil, but he wasn't truly evil. When someone undergoes the hellish treatment at the hands of one like Zouken, one of two effects will happen. Either one will end up shattered and barely holding it together like Sakura, or one will become broken, reformed, and hardened like Harry. Really, Zouken had simply resorted Harry's priorities, making him very protective of his inner circle and not much else. Unless he bore a personal attachment to a particular individual, killing them was a very viable option for him. There was a reason that all of the Servants he'd summoned personally were monsters of some description, physically or metaphorically.

Aside from all of that, he was having a very good week. Flying lessons had gone about as expected, with the instructor, Madam Hooch as she insisted to be called, bearing a rather obvious bias against the Slytherins. He concluded that the first thing he'd do after gaining control of the house would be to launch a massive PR campaign in the name of reshaping the house's reputation. The fear and distrust the rest of Hogwarts regarded them with would be detrimental to his future plans, not to mention how ridiculous things were. Teachers regarding eleven-years old as future Death Eaters without even trying to show them some kindness was on a level of stupidity he had rarely seen. Anyone with a brain could have worked out that they were just children in need of mentoring, instead of monsters that should be scorned.

Ironically, the only Gryffindor she hadn't treated well was Orion, who was still on most of the school's shit lists. After Lily had dragged the boy off, he'd sent Assassin after them to watch the ensuing catastrophe, and he had not been disappointed.

Lily had laid into her youngest son for three full hours, well past dinner. At one point, the stupid little git had even had the audacity to make a ham-fisted attempt at defending his words, which had caused his loving mother to fully backhand him across the jaw, quickly shutting him up. Even James had been shocked at his son's use of that racial slur, though he still foolishly attempted to intercede on the boy's behalf. He quickly found himself in the doghouse as his wife's ire turned to him as well.

It was times like these that made Harry think he really needed to invest in a pensieve, even if the lake in his Reality Marble operated on a similar principle. With a pensieve, he could take Illya and Sakura with him too. He was pretty sure that both girls would enjoy the scene a lot.

The flying lessons had come to a head however when they'd first stepped up to their brooms and prepared to mount them. Just looking at them, Harry could tell that the majority of them were dangerously unsafe, and in dire need of replacement. A quick flash of Structural Analysis confirmed this, revealing that the magic that made the brooms operate had practically worn off by this point. He mentally made a note to point that fact out to the Daily Prophet for a future article. Given the money paid for Hogwarts' tuition, the school more than had the money necessary to replace them. Why Dumbledore hadn't done so was anyone's guess, but he would bet that the old man either was too busy advertising the Boy-Who-Lived to care, or had forgotten altogether. Premiere magic school in the world his True Magician's ass.

Not wanting any of his friends to get hurt, he sent small, snake-like tendrils from Panzer out through the grass to the brooms of himself, Sakura, Illya, Daphne, and Neville, conducting prana through the metal and recharging the flying implements. Before the Professor could blow her whistle though, Neville was stricken with a sudden bout of nervousness and accidentally kicked off with his broom, rapidly ascending to dangerous heights. The broom flew around like it was in a hurricane, before slamming into the walls of the school roughly fifteen meters above the ground.

Harry acted quickly, slipping out of sight from the rest of the class and touching both of his hands to the ground. His alchemical arrays, hidden by Panzer, glowed and transmuted the ground Neville was about to land on into a deep mud pit. Since it'd been raining heavily the last few days, nobody would question its presencetoo much. The boy would be dirty and humiliated, but mostly unharmed. And he was pretty sure that his friends would prefer some humiliation over broken bones.

Neville came out of the pit completely soaked in mud from head-to-toe, and with a slight limp. Madam Hooch quickly rushed over to the boy, and diagnosed his injury as a simple sprained ankle. She slowly began ushering the boy in the direction of the hospital wing, though not without delivering a rather pointed warning towards the Slytherins that no brooms were to leave the ground during her absence.

Once again, Harry was reminded that wizards were not the most intelligent kind of people, as he could tell that leaving to groups of excitable eleven-years old unsupervised, two groups who hatedeach other, could not end well at all. Why she hadn't simply called a House Elf to take Neville to Madam Pomfrey, he didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care, but it showed less than stellar intelligence on the teacher's part.

Predictably, she had threatened the wrong house, as the instant she left Draco Malfoy produced Neville's Remembrall from where he'd dropped it, sneering that he was going to flush it down the toilet. At this point, Orion decided that it was a good time to make his attempt at winning back the favor of his house.

Orion was not the sort to tolerate being shown anything but the utmost respect and admiration, sort of like Gilgamesh in a way, but without the actual power or skill to back up his claims and threats. Having the house that was supposed to be his giving him the cold shoulder, and even being openly hostile at times, was just too much for him to bear. In his mind, the obvious way to reclaim his standing was to challenge the only one in the house that rivaled him for unpopularity: Draco.

Of course, his execution was absolutely horrible. Without the newspapers editing his every word and spinning any story involving him in his favor, he had no idea how to project the Savior of England image that the public had fallen in love with. This resulted in his attempt falling somewhat flat, though it did succeed in picking a fight with Malfoy.

The boy quickly challenged him to a contest of brooms before jumping into the air and taking off, quickly pursued by Orion. The two Gryffindors had what looked like an aerial dogfight, sweeping by and nearly hitting each other with every bout. He had a slight edge though, as while Lucius had arranged for Draco to have the occasional flying lesson, James was a Quidditch fanatic, meaning that Orion almost knew how to ride a broom before he could walk.

After about ten minutes of rapid back-and-forth, Orion managed to get a lucky jab in and snatch the Remembrall from Malfoy's pocket, quickly descending the ground. It was at this point that Professor McGonagall came rushing out of the building, grabbed Orion by the hem of his robes, and pulled him inside.

It wasn't until later that he learned that she had, instead of punishing him, placed him on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. A truly wicked smile came across his face at this tidbit of information.

The things he could do with this. It was almost too easy…

-Break-

As the weekend finally rolled around, Harry was growing excited. This would seem highly atypical to any who knew him, but he had a reason.

The weekend meant that he could finally start his campaign of terror against the Dursleys, and he could be a hell of a lot less subtle about it than he was at Hogwarts. He'd already sent a message to the Daily Prophet, instructing them to write an article on Orion's illegal joining of the Quidditch team and to cite Dumbledore's further favoritism. His propaganda machine was happy to comply, though the article wouldn't be ready to print until the Monday morning edition.

Gathering up the girls and his Servants, he Kaleidoscope'd to Privet Drive for a little recon. If he was to drag this out, he'd need a proper base of operations. He remembered Mrs. Figg, the old woman and apparently squib who lived directly across the street. Dumbledore had assigned her to keep an eye on him, which meant that she had to be completely aware of the abuses he'd suffered under her watchful eye. Root, she'd even babysat him a couple of times and he'd tried to tell her about it, but she'd just dismissed him.

Now he knew why.

Knocking on her door, she barely had time to get a sound out of her surprised mouth before Daphne's Imperius Curse hit her and took complete control, reducing her to an obedient slave. She was instructed to act completely normally and to otherwise ignore their presence.

As he looked around the house Harry couldn't help but notice the stench that came from having too many of the damn felines in a close proximity. He also remembered that the sadistic little demons had taken a particularly vicious pleasure in using him as a scratching post whenever their owner had babysat him. Smirking, he called up the Kaleidoscope and shipped them off to Hogwarts.

Right into Fluffy's room.

He'd honestly need to come up with a better name for the Cerberus that had recently come to see him as her Master, but "Fluffy" was the only name Illya could come up with on short notice. Honestly, what was it with his little sister and finding enormous, monstrous creatures "cute".

Fortunately, she would get to keep the animal, as his frequent and extended visits combined with similar training techniques to the ones he'd used on Prim had quickly won the beast over. After taming the Beast of Gaia, a Cerberus was chump-change. Dumbledore would be in for a nasty surprise next time he tried to play some music for the animal and nearly get eviscerated for the trouble.

With the detestable cats gone, he, Daphne, and Caster began shooting cleaning spells around the house, transfiguring the furniture, and using some space-expansion charms. When they were finished they had a decently-sized and well-decorated little base to watch the chaos ensue.

His first step was to take a poke around the house to see what had changed since his last stay there. Not much, he imagined, since the Dursleys had detested change in any form. The onlychange he believed they would accept was to change their car for a newest one, since they needed to be able to boast about the vehicle. It was one of their many, many guilty pleasures.

All of the Servants but Berserker and Archer deastralized in Figg's house. Berserker didn't because even with the charms he was simply too big to fit inside most modern houses. Really, the Servant was just too violent and unsubtle for any use but combat or intimidation. The only real time he got to fully manifest at Hogwarts was when Illya threw a tantrum, wanting to "play with Berserky!". In addition to the Servant of Madness, Archer didn't materialize because he wasn't there, instead attending his first Wizengamot meeting as the Ravenclaw-Slytherin Regent. He really hoped the Servant would share the memory, he could already tell that it would be the stuff of legends.

He pulled out his wand and cast Notice-Me-Nots on himself and the girls.

Now sure that they wouldn't draw any attention, he and his companions stepped out into the street and made their way to the house directly across.

Number 4 Privet Drive.

He had no good memories of this place, only ones of beatings, cupboards filled with spiders, Marge's dogs, Harry Hunting, and starvation. As they stopped outside the door, he felt Sakura give him a tight hug, burying her face in his chest. Illya repeated this on his side, followed by the maids, then by everyone but Daphne and Saber. Saber hesitated a brief moment, before jerkily joining the hug as well. Daphne stayed back. This sort of public display of love wasn't her thing. She was one for... intimacy, not to mention it would be improper for one in her position.

Once they were done having their moment, Harry knocked on the door of the house. In a repeat of across the street, the second it was open Daphne hit Petunia Dursley with an Imperius and then forced her aside. The same process was repeated when Vernon came around the corner wanting to know what all the fuss was about. Activating Panzer, Harry sent search tendrils throughout the house to find his cousin, who was shortly dragged kicking and screaming by the metallic tentacle wrapped tightly around his ankle.

He turned to look towards the two owners of the house, his aunt and uncle. If anything, his uncle had only gotten fatter in the five years since he'd seen him, and his aunt skinnier. Neither change really did them any good. He felt as if he had just stepped in a zoo, what with his "Uncle" looking like a walking oversized walrus, and his "Aunt" a sneering, underweight giraffe. Dudley, for his part, looked like…well a pig, since he didn't have the mustache to look like a walrus.

Daphne moved them over to the couch and sat them down. Harry felt nothing but hate when he looked at them. They were two regular people, presented with their orphaned nephew, and instead of taking him in and raising him like the son they should have, they locked him in a cupboard and treated him like a freakish slave for six years. As his anger boiled, he had to both restrain Berserker and himself. The combination of the two almost distracted him from the tiny black hairs wrapping slowly around his entranced relatives' throats.

"As pleasurable as that would be," he told Assassin without looking at her, "I have greater plans for them."

Instantly, the tendrils retracted as his quiet Servant bowed her head in apology, though he could see her displeasure at being unable to personally enact her Master's vengeance. He could feel from all of his Servants a deep desire to slaughter his aunt and uncle; even Saber's sense of justice was telling her not to let the child abusers live.

Unfortunately for the Dursleys, he had an even better plan.

Rising, he went to look at his old bedroom, that is, the cupboard under the stairs. Upon opening it, his first thought was that the Dursleys were idiots. They'd been the subject of a police investigation after his disappearance and hadn't even bothered to clean up the evidence. His bloody smear on the floor that had been his "bed" was still exactly where it had been, as if he'd never left. Apparently the police had been unable to get a search warrant for the house, or if they had they'd assumed like any reasonable person would that the second bedroom filled with toys was for the second boy, instead of the cupboard, when in fact it was simply the first boy's second bedroom.

A smirk rose to his lips as he turned his gaze back to his relatives.

He had so many plans for them. It had been one of his favorite past-times during those long nights in the worm pit, plotting the demise of his loving family, but with his new leaps and bounds with magic, his new plan took the cake.

The primary reason his relatives had abused him so, besides their psychopathy that is, was because they feared him turning into a freak like his mother and father had been. They lived in fear of magic, and thought that if they made him fear being a freakenough, that he would never manifest any magical abilities or talents, making him "normal".

Now wouldn't it just be a shame if Dudley found himself suddenly implanted with an unrestrained magical core?

Smiling grimly to himself, he had Rider clear off the massive kitchen table with a single sweep of her chain. With a crash, the tremendously expensive china covering the table shattered on the floor as more tendrils of Panzer took Dudley by his four limbs and stretched him out painfully like a star. His screams tore through the house as he was slammed forcefully on the table, which groaned and bent slightly under his immense weight.

Harry raised his hand, which took on an unearthly white glow as he channeled the Heaven's Feel to alter Dudley's soul in such a way as to permit a magical core. He had never done this personally, but he had seen Zelretch preform procedures similar to it, so he figured that he could at least eyeball it.

"Now Duddykins," he warned his cousin, "I feel it fair to inform you that I have never done this before. So this is likely going to hurt quite a lot."

Dudley's watery blue eyes widened in horror as he redoubled his thrashing, sending panicked looks towards his parents who were sitting dimly on the couch under the Imperious Curse.

With an uncaring roll of his eyes, Harry thrust his hand into the center of his cousin's chest and the boy writhed in silent agony as his very soul was rewritten and magic forced its way into his system. After several tense minutes of flailing, the light died down and Dudley went limp with exhaustion.

He was about to simply obliviate his relatives and leave, but he couldn't ignore the sadistic looks most of his Servants were sporting when they looked at his Aunt and Uncle. While it wasn't really his style, who was he to stand between several beautiful women and a sadistic outlet? He did know quite a bit of healing magic after all.

Several hours later, all three members of the Dursley family found themselves in a slight daze in their living room. They had hazy recollections of the last couple hours being comfortably mundane, but couldn't shake a feeling that something dreadful had happened. Shrugging it off as something they ate, Petunia set about preparing dinner while Vernon and Dudley kept watching the television.

If only they knew what had been done in that brief span of hours.

-Break-

Feeling immensely pleased with himself, Harry teleported with the girls away from his hated childhood home and to Hogwarts, arriving with a swirl of colors in his dorm room. Back in hostile territory, the Servants astralized once again, though Rider let out a disappointed purr at having herfun with the Dursleys ended. That woman had a sadistic streak in her that was only matched by Assassin when ordered to, which was a scary thought. He recalled that both Servants possessed "A+" Rank Torture among their skills, and was just happy that they were both very devoted to him.

The only one who hadn't truly enjoyed the little trip was Saber, but even she had grown up during the Middle Ages, and had seen her fair share of torture. Though she disapproved of it as a whole, she wouldn't deny that the Dursleys had worse coming to at least Dudley had been mostly unharmed, since his future status as a "freak" ensured he would not be living a happy life.

Changing out of his muggle clothes, Harry put on the formal cloak he'd purchased, and had the girls dress appropriately as well. Tonight was his dinner with Lucius Malfoy, Severus Snape, and apparently his Godfather, Sirius Black. He'd already made arrangements with Snape for him to escort them down to Hogsmeade and through the Floo network to the Malfoy manor.

He couldn't help but notice that many of the upper-year Slytherins were both reserved and respectful as he passed through the common room on his way to the Potions Lab. One seventh year girl had even opened the door for him as he passed, head ever-so slightly bowed. As the most experienced Slytherins, they could feel the wind of change when it was coming, and would act accordingly. The whispers were accumulating that the council had made its decision, which meant that Harry Potter was to become the new Lord of Slytherin. He could also note that some of them bore the slightest narrowing of the eyes when they looked at Daphne, who was walking at his side. It seemed that they were displeased to see such a young snake taking a place so prominent.

Ignoring them, Harry navigated the winding halls of the dungeons until he was once again at the perpetually-smoky door that marked the entrance to the Potions Lab. Inside was Snape's office, where he usually spent his time on Saturdays to catch up on paperwork. Harry knocked, and only had to wait a brief moment before a sour-faced Snape opened the door, his visage brightening about as much as it could given his complexion, upon seeing that he wasn't about to have to deal with another irritating student, but instead his new favorite pupil.

He ran an analytical eye over the group, inspecting their clothes and hair for anything that would be deemed unseemly for a Pureblood dinner. Once they passed inspection, they exchanged polite pleasantries as they worked their way out of the school and down to the nearby village. Harry personally found Hogsmeade a bit impressive for a village that had essentially sprang up around and economically relied on aschool, even if it was essentially the only center for magical education in Great Britain.

Snape led them to a cheery tavern called The Three Broomsticks. Harry noted that it was in certainly better condition than The Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps all of the student traffic helped keep the place in better repair. Snape exchanged a polite nod with the barmaid as he placed several coins in a jar placed above the fireplace. He reached into a pot next to the jar, and withdrew a pinch of green powder, which he promptly threw into the empty fireplace.

With a rush of air, a sickly green fire erupted in the hearth. Turning to address his charges, Snape once more resumed his strict teacher persona.

"Alright, do any of you not know how to use the Floo network?" A blushing Sakura raised her hand, followed by Illya. Snape nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"It's relatively simple. Take a small pinch of powder; step into the flames, don't worry, they won't burn you; and throw the powder down while clearlystating your desired destination. Once you're away, be sure to take a step forward as quick as you can, so that you do not fall upon exiting. Potter the Superior, Greengrass, you two are first."

Grabbing Daphne's hand, Harry grabbed a generous pinch of the powder from the jar and tossed it at his feet while enunciating as clearly as he could, "Malfoy Manor."

Suddenly, Harry felt as if he'd been shot down a waterslide, endlessly falling down a long and dark tube. Remembering his instructions, he put one foot out as if he were normally walking. The second he did so, light returned to his vision and he found himself gracefully stepping out of a fireplace and into an ornate sitting room. He could only note a single man with shaggy black hair before the fireplace flared up again and revealed Sakura and Illya popping out, only slightly stumbling. He reflexively spun and caught the both of them, earning a massive blush from Sakura and a delighted smile from his sister. A brief moment after that, Leanna, Monica, and Joy joined them, their physical nature as homunculi granting them the grace required to easily manage the dismount. Finally, Snape himself strolled out, glancing at the grand yet warm interior of the manor like it was home, his hard face visibly relaxing.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry barely had time to react as a black-garbed figure charged him from the opposite side of the room, making a flying leap once it'd closed enough distance. Fortunately, it was intercepted by Leanna and Joy, who viciously intercepted the threat to their Master. The room physically shook as the man impacted the magically-reinforced floor, groaning in pain as he did so. Monica had already drawn her staff and taken a protective stance in front of Harry.

All of this took place in the span of about a second.

A slow applause coming from a doorway to the left resulted in the amassed group turning in its direction.

Another wizard stood there in dark black robes, holding a black staff with the top fashioned into a snake head with one hand while clapping the other against it. The man had a pale, pointed face and bleach-blonde hair, making it clear to him exactly whose father this was. Harry took a step out from behind a reluctant Monica, stepping casually over the man still pinned face-first against the floor.

"Lucius Malfoy, I presume?" he said in the way of a greeting. The man's lip twitched in amusement as he looked towards the man his maids were still restraining, with a look in his eyes that said he'd wanted something like that to happen for a very long time. The man's pale grey eyes quickly focused back on him, a polite smiling forming on his face.

"Indeed. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Potter. If you wouldn't mind though, could you have your familiars release my wife's cousin? Amusing as it is to see him humbled so, I believe she would prefer to discipline him for his breach of etiquette in person," he drawled casually, completely aware of the utter terror he had placed within the man on the floor, who immediately began shaking in abject fear. Then, it seemed that the man remembered something, as he attempted to once more leap to his feet, halted by the iron-like grips of the two women holding him down.

Unable to move, he tried speaking, an effort which was stymied by the thick carpet his head was being painfully pressed against. After observing for a moment and deeming the man a non-threat, despite his actions, Harry motioned for his maids to release their victim, which they obediently complied. Stepping back, they took their usual defensive positions around their charge, once again assuming the guise of completely harmless maids. Lucius couldn't help but be impressed. He wondered where the boy had gathered such beings, and how he had attained such loyalty from them. He would have to ask where he would be able to find others like them, as they were certainly a step-up from House-Elves, and more appealing physically.

Sirius Black instantly leapt to his feet, freed from his bindings. His eyes once again locked on Harry, but the subtle tensing of the maids dissuaded him from an immediate second attempt at a flying hug. He took a step back, his eyes taking in the group his Godson had gathered around him, growing increasingly amazed at each female the boy had gathered. It warmed his playboy heart to know that already his beloved Godson, who was like a nephew to him, was already following in his footsteps.

Lucius looked back and forth between the two, before finally speaking, "Ahh, Mr. Potter, allow me the honor of introducing you to Lord Sirius Black, Heir of House Black, and more importantly, your Godfather."

Still slightly wary, Harry looked his father's former friend up and down for signs of hostile intent or deceit, before it clicked in his mind that the man's initial exuberance had been an attempt at a hug, not an attack. He mentally ordered the maids to treat him cautiously, but friendly. A brief second later, the man seemed to lose his composure once again, leaping at Harry with his arms outstretched and tears in his eyes.

This time Harry let the man approach, and was soon enveloped in a bone-crushing hug. His mental connection with Panzer alerted him to the activation of defensive protocols, and only his quick shutting down of the process kept Sirius' arms connected to the rest of his body. He honestly needed to modify the reactive armor somewhat to make it more suitable for civilian use, not activating at any unknown contact, but that was a project for another day. Right now, his concern was the thirty-something man currently sobbing into his robes, wailing apologies.

Harry had of course done his research prior to meeting his Godfather. One Sirius Black had been born to Orion and Walburga Black, two Pureblood traditionalists and Supremacists. While the Blacks were a mighty and respectable family, generations of inbreeding had led to... less than favorable genetics. Because of this, the last generation had picked up on the same Pureblood Supremacist ideas that Voldemort had latched on to and built his power platform on. Fortunately, being raised in a house with such zealots had caused an adverse effect on Sirius, instead causing him to reject and abhor Pureblood dogma. This carried over to Hogwarts, where his beliefs and behavior caused him to be sorted into Gryffindor, marking him as a disgrace to his family but leading to his friendship with James Potter.

Internal family politics had battled back and forth, before reaching a cease-fire of sorts when Walburga had realized that disowning him wouldtruly kill the House of Black. Instead, she essentially disowned him in all but legal matters, promising the Lordship to his son, fully intending to live long enough to influence her future grandson with her values. Fate however intervened and she died before Sirius even got married. The Lordship and House Assets had passed to Sirius, which he had grudgingly taken. While House Black was most certainly a dark family, it was also an old and respected one, and even Sirius had enough Pureblood in him to recoil at the thought of letting his family stagnate.

After the assault on the Potter House in Godric's Hallow, he and James had had something of a falling out. When Orion and Harry had been born, the other three Marauders had been delighted. Since two of his friends were Purebloods, James had thought it acceptable to name them the Godfathers of the twins. Pettigrew had gotten Orion and Sirius Harry. Lupin had been promised that he would be the Godfather to the third child the Potters intended to had, little Ivy Potter. Shortly after Voldemort's demise, the political climate in England would not have permitted someone of James' status to make a werewolf a Godfather to his child.

Sirius had objected to his Godson, the boy whose well-being he'd been tasked with looking after, being spirited away by Dumbledore simply because raising him alongside Orion would be "inconvenient," but James would have none of it, which effectively ended their friendship. In a fit of spite, he got back in touch with his favorite cousin, Narcissa. She'd offered him a place in her home with her husband and infant son, which he'd gladly accepted. Of course, she had political reasons for this as well, but Sirius was also family.

With the help of Lucius, he'd filed numerous cases with the Gringotts goblins in an attempt to gain custody, but Dumbledore used the initial confusion over whom had betrayed the Potters to his benefit, and portrayed Sirius as a violent Death Eater spy, seeking to lash out against the Potters any way he could. Even after he'd been vindicated and Pettigrew locked away, the slander Dumbledore had arranged stuck with him, making it nearly impossible for him to gain traction in any court.

He hadn't even been able to find out where his former Headmaster had placed the boy. He'd considered Vernon and Petunia, but their hatred of their in-laws was so famous that he had immediately dismissed the thought, as not even Dumbledore would be that foolish.

Now it appeared that his overestimation of the ancient bastard had led his Godson to a terrible upbringing. It was for this reason that he was currently absorbed with crying into the boy's expensive robes, muttering rampant apologies for his failure, leaving Harry with such evil and abusive people. Snape had told him about it when he'd stopped by for dinner before school started, along with Lucius.

After finally wearing himself out, he composed himself and rose to his full height, still hugging Harry tightly. He looked down at the boy, remembering when he'd been such a small and innocent pup, not a growing boy already making political , he could hardly begrudge Harry for his behavior, as even he could understand that an abusive upbringing would leave scars on a child, making them much more cunning and determined to survive. Such things were not what Gryffindors favored, so it was hardly a surprise Harry had been Sorted into Slytherin, and he would certainly not hold it against him.

He was damn impressed with the boy too. Just look at the babes he had with him! The three triplets were smoking hot. He idly wondered if he could turn up the ol' Black charm and talk one or three of them into bed. Not likely. Their expressions were completely blank, indicative of intense training, not to mention they'd completely kicked his ass. On second thought, perhaps a modicum of respect was to be used around these women. He really didn't want to know how they dealt with unwanted suitors.

Oh who was he kidding, he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing.

Aside from the maids, his Godson also had three younger girls with him, who while far too young for him to be attracted did bear the beginning of what would undoubtedly be beautiful women. Already, he was a hit with the ladies, just like his old Dogfather. He'd have to give Harry "the Talk", since it would be a good prank, revenge on the Potters, and a way to get closer to his Godson all rolled up into one. He couldn't wait to see the boy's face when he told him about the Wand and the Holster!

Taking a step back, he suddenly found that no words were coming to him. Ever since the boy's eleventh birthday had neared, he'd been planning this singular moment when he could reunite with that adorable little baby he'd grown so attached to in the brief year before Voldemort's demise, but as he looked at his now grown Godson, looking up at him expectantly, it was as if some blockage in his throat was preventing any sound from coming out.

"Hey, Pup," he finally managed lamely.

The silence was deafening.

Eventually, Lucius took pity on his tentative friend, clearing his throat to speak. "Well, it seems that I'm intruding on what I imagine will be a truly touching reunion. Dinner will be ready in approximately one hour, and I shall send a house elf to fetch you when it is. In the meantime, you can use the study through that door to catch up. I'm sure you'll have plenty to talk about."

He then turned on his heel and departed the room, Snape giving Harry and the girls a brief nod before following in his wake and starting a quiet conversation with his old friend. Now that they were alone, Harry took a moment to gain some personal assessment of his Godfather. While from the evidence he'd either gathered or been told the man had no involvement with his abuse at the Durleys', that was purely secondhand information. Outside of his Servants, Sakura, and Illya, his was the only opinion he truly trusted.

His Godfather was a tall man, with scraggly black hair that looked as if someone had recently attempted to make it look presentable. The black robes he was wearing had a disheveled appearance, like their wearer wasn't entirely experienced with putting them on or wearing them. His build was skinny and slightly haggard, as if he hadn't been taking care of himself for the past, say, eleven years. He had warm grey eyes though, which were the most telling parts of his appearance. In them, Harry saw a myriad of emotions being rapidly shifted through like scenes on a projector.

Joy, pain, sadness, heartbreak, and above all else, guilt.

He supposed that was to be expected.

"Let's take a seat and get some tea before we catch up Sirius," he said, "Actually, may I call you Sirius?"

For a moment, he thought his Godfather might cry as his smile lit up.

"Of course pup. Siriusly."

Oh dear Root