Hi! Remember me? It's been a while and I'm really sorry about that. First, I want to thank you all who have been reading and leaving reviews (even the reader who told me the story is disgusting and that I should get a life. Well, I did – actually – and that's why updates have been, ah, scarce. Also: go away, reader! Read something else! Or, alternatively read this chapter – this one is for you!) Second, I did promise you we would finish this in 2015 and I'm sticking to that. I've been writing ahead and probably we'll have 34 or so chapters in total, plus a long epilogue. I hope you're up for it!

Chapter 30 – Too Many Questions and Then One

By the time he reached the Atrium, Harry had calmed down. And he had, with mounting embarrassment, realised that he had walked straight into Draco's trap, too. He was so busy trying to puzzle out his emotions that he did not notice the blue-robed wizard that crossed his path from the right. Harry promptly crashed into him and for a moment there was only a shoulder shoving his spectacles into his eyes and confusion and lots of "Pardon me, sir!"

It was only when he had righted his glasses and looked up that he recognised the man. "Mr Windyfield?" he blinked, rubbing a sore spot on his cheek.

"Oh, Mr Potter! Oh, dear Merlin! I'm so sorry." The grey-blonde wizard looked a bit ruffled but pleased to see him all the same. He had a stash of parchments under one arm and was carrying a large, battered briefcase. "It is a pleasure to see you. Again!"

"I thought I'd come for that Portkey," Harry joked feebly.

He had expected a smile, perhaps, in return, or at least some acknowledgement, but the other man only frowned. "The Portkey? I beg your pardon but I can't..."

Harry hastened to explain. "Last time you told me that if I would ever need a Portkey you could–"

"Ah, arrange it! Of course! Magical Transportation and such and such." Mr Windyfield's face cleared visibly. "It certainly would not do to disappoint our national Hero."

"Right," said Harry. The day he stopped hearing the word 'hero' in conjunction with his own person he'd be thrilled. "Well, I guess I should be–"

"So, tell me, Mr Potter, what brings you to our celebrated Ministry today? There is no trial that I am aware of taking place."

"Uh, no..." Harry hesitated. He was not comfortable with talking about his plans for Draco with somebody he knew only superficially. "I had some matters to take care of," he said, vague on purpose.

Mr Windyfield nodded in perfect agreement. "I am sure you do, Mr Potter. But I assume you will attend Draco Malfoy's trial as well, seeing as you went to Lucius'...? The story is well-known, after all, of how you and the Malfoy boy were, ah, less than supportive of one another during your time at Hogwarts..."

"Yes," said Harry cautiously, shifting his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He had not realised that his and Draco's enmity was such common knowledge. However, irrespective of that, he figured that it would surprise no one that he intended to be at the trial. Then a new thought suddenly struck him. "Mr Windyfield, you wouldn't know how I could reach Faith?" It was odd how her existence so rarely crossed his mind but now he remembered her steely grey hair and bright red lipstick.

The portly wizard before him, however, looked nonplussed. "'Faith', Mr Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said again, a prickle of a familiar sensation making him take a small step back. "We met at the trial. You seemed to know her...?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Mr Windyfield laughed heartily. "Ah, indeed. You must forgive me, Mr Potter, I've barely slept this week." He leaned in a little closer. "An awful mess in Sheffield, you see. Broomsticks have been running amok in the middle of the night ever since Sunday evening. It is complete mayhem but we are sorting it out as best we can."

Harry could not recall reading anything about that in the paper but, to be fair, he had been too focused on the reports on Sirius to pay attention to much else.

"Now, Mr Potter," Mr Windyfield continued. "May I tempt you with some lunch perhaps?"

"Um, thanks," said Harry, trying his best at polite, "but I have to go."

"Of course. Tell me, where are you staying these days, eh? Word is that you have not returned to the Weasley house?" The other man winked when Harry frowned. "News – and rumours – travel fast at the Ministry, Mr Potter. You might wish to keep that in mind."

Kingsley had said much the same, Harry remembered. Still, that did not mean that he had to confirm anything. "I'd rather not make that public knowledge, if you don't mind," he said, honestly.

But Mr Windyfield only nodded sympathetically. "Oh, naturally. I will not pressure you on the subject, then, Mr Potter." He straightened and adjusted his load of parchment. "Now, please excuse me, I must be off. The broomsticks have displayed a most disheartening unwillingness to respond to Ministry decrees, I am sorry to say."

"Um, Mr Windyfield, what about Faith?" Harry hurried to ask him before he set off.

"Ah, yes." The other man frowned. "If you ask me, I would not bother with her. It is a very remote department. Obscure, to tell the truth." Then he smiled again. "Good day to you, Mr Potter." He took his leave and set off towards the lifts in a modest flurry of Ministerial blue.

Harry chose the opposite direction, heading towards the gilded fireplaces. The thoughts turned around themselves in his mind until they were tangled into knots. Mr Windyfield's questions had rubbed him the wrong way and he wondered if he ought to be suspicious. (And he wondered if he had the energy to be so.) He wondered about Faith, too, but since the other wizard seemed disinclined to speak about her he resolved that he would have to take that bit of business elsewhere.

Perhaps he should ask somebody about Mr Windyfield? Who he was and what they knew about him? Kingsley should know as he was Minister but Harry had already asked him about Algernon Pod and that conversation had not really put Harry in the mood for any such others. Perhaps Mr Weasley knew something? But did Mr Weasley at all want to speak with Harry now that the truth about him and Sirius had come out? Besides, Mr Windyfield had been absentminded and curious, that was all. Everybody could be that once in a while, he supposed.

The Atrium was quiet today, with only a handful of witches and wizards crossing the red linoleum floor. When he reached the location of the crater he saw that the wards that had lain across it earlier were now covered up in their turn by a high dome of softly fluttering pink feathers. The warning sign supplied by the Public Information Services remained perfectly visible, though.

Passing the sign he recalled the look of utter surprise and total shock on the face of the witch behind the information desk at that department. Judging from her reaction it was clear that she had not expected her workday to include Harry Potter rushing in, willing to share the news that Sirius Black was alive and that he had accepted a position as Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Stuttering and fumbling for a quill she had told him that this was not really the sort of information that her department usually handled but certainly she would happily contact the Daily Prophet for him if he did not have the time himself. Harry had thanked her and left.

It was only afterwards that he had stopped to consider the consequences but by then it had been too late. Still, he hoped that Sirius had truly forgiven him.

Sirius...

Harry could not help the smile that caught his lips at the thought of his godfather.

Sirius.

o.O.o

Sirius had drawn the curtains and plunged the bedroom into pool of darkness. Only the tip of his wand glowed as he lit a handful of candles by the bedside. Harry lay watching him. All their clothes had ended up piled into the old black velvet armchair and Sirius had pulled back the covers and indicated that Harry should stretch out on his back on the bed. So he had. And now Sirius was lighting the candles.

When he was done, he plopped down beside Harry on the bed. A strand of black hair fell into his face as he ran a forefinger down Harry's thigh, leaving goose bumps in its wake. He smiled. "How does it feel?" His eyes caught Harry's. "Everything, I mean."

"I don't know," Harry told him, truthfully. "I wish she'd just be happy, you know. I didn't think she'd care about you, or me, being... well, this."

Sirius shook his head gently, then pushed away that wayward strand of hair. "Harry... that's not the problem. Molly doesn't really care about that. True, she is a pure-blood witch who married into a pure-blood family but you know the Weasleys. Neither of them are prejudiced or narrow-minded or traditional like that. Molly would have been absolutely and perfectly fine with it had I not fallen in love with you." His smile was sad.

It was a very strange conversation to be naked for.

Sirius continued to draw a pattern on Harry's skin with his fingertip. "And she would have been more than OK with you, too, if you had fallen for somebody else. Somebody your own age – somebody she feels no mistrust for. But she has never liked me. I'm pretty sure it's not my sexuality, Harry, but my personality that causes her to worry."

"I don't care," said Harry defensively.

Sirius' smile deepened a little, and there was a shade of paternal indulgence in it. "And you know that's not the problem either – that I fear you'll figure out she is right."

Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position. It was odd to be naked and serious. "I know," he admitted. "I just want her to be happy for us."

"So do I. But it'll take time, I wager." Sirius sighed. "I guess what I'm trying to tell you, Harry, is that I never want to be the reason for why you two drift apart. She's been like... Well, she's been like a mother to you. And I'm very grateful for that."

Harry bit his lip and gingerly covered his godfather's hand with his own. "I'm an adult now, Sirius. I mean, of course, I'm so happy for all that she has done for me. You're right, the Weasleys are like family to me but I'm not a child any more..."

Sirius caught his hand and turned it over. The candlelight played over Harry's palm. They had not really talked since yesterday. "And I think that is exactly what Molly is realising right now," he said softly. He gently lifted Harry's hand to his lips and kissed it, gaze locked with Harry's. "I missed your coming of age."

Harry felt something warm sweep through him even as his throat grew a little tighter. "You're here now."

Sirius returned his hand to him, and then smiled. "Lie back down."

Harry did, and his godfather climbed onto the bed to sit between his parted legs. He ran his palms over Harry's thighs, spreading them wider until he was pleased with the arrangement. Then he reached and bent down over Harry and kissed him.

It was slow and soft. Sirius' hair fell into Harry's face and his glasses were in the way but his godfather did not seem to care. They kissed for a long time, Sirius teasing Harry's tongue with his own and making his breathing almost still. Not before Harry was floating in a haze of low-buzzing pleasure did he pull away to kiss his way down Harry's throat and chest. He did stop though, before he reached his groin. Sirius straightened and ran a hand through his hair. He looked unusually shy as he slid a hand under one of Harry's thighs. "So... do you want to...?"

Harry nodded against his pillow. Sirius did not look half as haggard and emaciated as he had upon his Return. In fact, his skin glowed in the candlelight, his broad shoulders had more than a memory of determination and strength in them and his muscles looked a lot less wiry now than before. His smile was glorious as he covered Harry's length with his hand and gave a sort of gentle squeeze that should have been awkward but only made it stir. Harry swallowed. "I want you, Sirius," he managed on a delirious exhale.

Sirius' lips parted a little and he placed the pad of his thumb in the spot just beneath Harry's balls and pressed down lightly. His eyes darkened as Harry gasped and he repeated the movement, massaging a tiny, tiny circle into the spot. Harry's cock jerked in response and the first proper thrill of arousal whizzed through him. Sirius' deepening breathing guided his own body into the flood of sensation that followed as his godfather's other hand cupped his cock and gave a few strokes.

"This good?" he asked in a roughened voice.

Harry nodded again, striving to keep his eyes open.

Sirius continued his ministrations, occasionally palming Harry's balls and rolling them between his fingers but all the while stroking. When the first bead of precome emerged at the tip of Harry's cock he spread it over the head and eased the friction. Then his fingers drifted downwards, until they circled Harry's entrance.

"You've your wand?" he mumbled, hovering with his fingertips in that spot and making Harry shiver.

Harry pulled himself together enough to comprehend. He lifted his heavy head and felt around for his wand beside him. When he found it his fingers gripped it instinctively. "Yeah."

"Lube then," his godfather smiled.

Harry Summoned. Of all the things he had uttered while doing magic, 'Accio lube' was by far the strangest and most uncomfortable, but the drawer in the beside cabinet obediently flew open and a small tube zoomed out of it to land at his hip.

By now, Sirius was grinning. "Priceless."

Harry tossed him the small tube without a word.

He quickly forgot his discomfort, though, as Sirius set about preparing him. The initial touch was odd and foreign but when his godfather's first finger slid into him fully and curled inside his body, Harry's world narrowed down to only that sensation. Sirius teased him open slowly but confidently. One finger became two, two became three and by then Harry was trying not to writhe like someone possessed. Sirius, too, appeared to have left his attitude behind for he was breathing heavily and his eyes had lost focus.

Harry tried to find his voice but it came out as a groan instead. Sirius' smile was shaky as he pulled out his fingers and took a firmer hold on Harry's left thigh. "Lift it up?"

Once his leg was hooked over Sirius' shoulder, his godfather moved closer, somehow manoeuvring himself in place. His cock nudged Harry's opening and slid inside inch by inch until it was fully sheathed. Harry felt him everywhere. His own cock was jerking on his belly but Sirius' hand came to cover it. He timed the first stroke with his first thrust and Harry fisted his hands in the sheets to keep from thrashing. Or possibly squeal.

"Fuck..." Sirius' groan wrapped around him. "C'mere..." He secured Harry's other leg around his waist.

Harry felt too warm. When Sirius pulled out a little his whole being seemed to follow. Then the next thrust came and it was slow and deep, and Harry wanted to curl into himself but Sirius was resting his cheek against Harry's leg over his shoulder, making that quite impossible. Sirius' eyes were closed and his lips had parted, and his warm breath skimmed over Harry's skin. If he had been in control of his own body Harry could happily have spent long minutes watching his godfather in that state: so overpowered by sensation. As it was, Harry was grateful if his heart still remembered how to beat.

As if he could feel Harry's gaze on him, Sirius' eyes flickered open and he smiled. "Ready?"

Harry made a noise of acquiescence but his godfather transformed it into a moan as he gave another thrust of his hips. This one, too, was slow and made Harry's hips jerk in response. Sirius' hand drifted away from his cock to wrap around his hip instead, steadying him. Harry felt his whole body thrum. Another thrust chased his qualms away and he took himself in hand and started wanking in time with Sirius' pace.

This time, it was his godfather who moaned. Sirius' eyes were a stormy dark grey as they focused on Harry. "Don't stop," he ordered in a strangled grunt. "That is so... Oh, fuck!" He drove in deep, impossibly deep into Harry, head falling forwards.

Harry arched off the bed, losing the rhythm as his godfather twitched and pounded inside him. His head was spinning and his vision blackened out for moment. His upraised leg was trembling and all the blood was quickly leaving his foot, and there was a spiralling of energy low in his belly. He pulled on his length mindlessly, wanting more of Sirius, wanting him even deeper. His leg slid from Sirius' shoulder and before he knew what was happening, Sirius was pulling out and Harry was turning onto his side, tearing his glasses off and not caring where they landed. Sirius spooned up behind him and pushed his top leg forwards. Then he was inside Harry again, all of him, groin to arse and chest to back. His arm curled around Harry's waist and he pressed open-mouthed kissed into Harry's neck and throat.

They found Harry's length together, fumbling for control. Sirius' breath was hot on Harry's ear and it made him whimper. Wave after wave of burning pleasure raced through him and he could not for the life of him understand why he had never before wanted this. Sirius half-draped himself over Harry, driving deep, deep, deep, but it was his tug on Harry's cock that made Harry come. His whole body convulsed and then Sirius was coming, too, hips moving in a frenzy against him.

It took them ages to shiver through it. Sirius instinctively curled around him, sweat-slicked skin warm and sticky. Harry just let it happen. He felt like crying and he felt like laughing but he did neither of those things. He just lay there panting, senses running wild, with his godfather's body pressed into his own, and it was better than anything.

"Well," Sirius managed after a while, with a rush of air over Harry's cheek. "I think at least we've figured out what your extracurricular activities will be during your upcoming school year."

Harry smiled into the pillow. "You mean Quidditch?"

Sirius gave a dissatisfied grunt. "I'm going to campaign for a Quidditch free learning environment for you. All time should be spent on... interaction with your Duelling Professor in a secluded, very private setting. Optimal for exploring personal development and the undertaking of somewhat challenging physical exercises and..."

Harry laughed. "I'm very happy you're not Headmaster."

Sirius raised himself up on an elbow and might have glared. Harry saw it in a blur. "Oh yeah? Are you now?"

"Yes. I happen to enjoy Quidditch, you know."

"Well, I happen to enjoy this." Leaning in, he joined their mouths together in a long kiss. When it was over he lay back down again and nuzzled Harry's neck with a sigh of satisfaction. "I'll launch a petition."

Harry let him closer and threaded their fingers together. After a little while he licked his lips, a nervous twang in the pit of his belly. "Um, Sirius?"

"Mm...?"

"Would you... Would you ever let me…" He swallowed and tried again. "You know, could I be... on top, sometime?" His lungs felt as though they were caving in.

Sirius shifted behind him and slid out of Harry. It was difficult to place the emotion in his voice when he spoke. "Would you like to?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

Sirius urged him to turn over. Without his glasses Harry's eyesight was less than sharp but as a matter of fact, just now, Harry was quite happy he did not see every detail in his godfather's face. "You know what I think?" Sirius asked, brushing their mouths together. "I think that'd be hot as hell."

Harry opened up to him, allowed Sirius to snake an arm around his waist again and cup one of his arse cheeks. The kiss made him feel desired and... sexy somehow. Harry grinned inwardly as his tongue met his godfather's. He guessed he sort of had Draco to thank for that.

TBC

A/N: Third, this chapter has been done for ages but I just couldn't figure out a title until tonight. Alternative title: Too Many Questions and Then Some. Sorry! (Not sorry)