Friends, after this chapter all that remains is the epilogue. Which will be quite long for the simple reason that I like long epilogues.

Chapter Thirty-Five – New Beginnings and Almost an Explanation

"Are you sure you are up for this?"

"Yeah," Harry told him, not really sure at all but in theory it was a good idea and, besides, it was too late now anyway.

Sirius did not look entirely convinced. "They're all going to see you, Harry," he warned, and nodded in direction of what was basically the rest of the world.

"Well, they'll see you too…"

Sirius' hand around his tightened. "I'm not sure they're ready for it."

Harry produced a grin from somewhere. "Are you afraid?"

That made something spark in Sirius' eye. His mouth twisted wryly. "Careful Harry…"

"You don't want to be seen with me?"

Sirius' eyebrows rose. He looked impressed. "Hm, Potter, as your soon-to-be professor I find myself required to remark on this impertinence of yours." He drew a fraction closer, grey eyes sparkling with a hint of an alluring danger that made Harry's knees melt.

"Oh yeah?"

A thin sheen of clouds was drifting lazily across the early August sun. A dog was barking a few streets away.

"Harry Potter," Sirius all but purred. "You are quickly developing an attitude that…" he moved closer still, until his mouth was only inches away from Harry's, "that I must say," his breath wafted over Harry's lips and made them tingle, "I do very much approve of."

"Do you think they're ready yet?" Harry breathed, quite unable to do anything but stare at his godfather's mouth.

"Why don't we find out?"

In the end, if someone fainted at the sight of Harry Potter and Sirius Black kissing at Carkitt Market, it was never mentioned to either of them. Sirius speculated afterwards, once they were safely hidden from view in a narrow alleyway, that was, that it had been such a glorious sight that it had rendered any onlookers speechless and, in secrecy, Harry found himself still too dizzy to argue.

It was a surreal experience, he decided as soon as his brain had begun functioning again, to make his way towards Diagon Alley hand in hand with Sirius. People were certainly looking. Harry met wide-eyed glances from underneath wide-brimmed hats and stares from behind gleaming monocles. He heard the whispers and murmurs and mumbles of surprise. Sirius' grasp on his hand was perhaps a little tighter than necessary. Harry could not feel his feet.

"At least no one is screaming 'murderer' at me," Sirius muttered as they passed a somewhat battered but still operating Globus Mundi Travel Agents.

"Right," said Harry, numbly.

Several of the shops he knew from before the war were closed but not a small number of windows and doors sported signs ensuring any potential future customers of ongoing repairs and soon-to-be-announced reopenings. It would have been an overstatement to say that Diagon Alley was teeming with shoppers but Harry and Sirius were definitely not alone. Which was good, Harry supposed, for the rebuilding of the wizarding community in general, but slightly more daunting on a more personal level. His palm against Sirius' was going embarrassingly damp but thankfully his godfather did not seem to mind.

"I thought they'd all be wanting your autograph," Sirius remarked a few minutes later as a nervous-looking couple in matching lilac robes visibly shrank away from them.

"Honestly, I'm glad they don't," Harry told him.

"So am I," Sirius responded lightly. "This way, I get to keep you all to myself." But when Harry glanced up at him his grin was not half as cocky as it could have been.

To Harry's infinite relief, Eeylops was one of the shops that had yet to reopen. The window glass had been shattered and there were ugly scratch marks around the iron hinges but a hand painted sign hung on the abused door told him that repairs were to begin 'shortly' and that he was welcome to check back in a couple of weeks or so.

"Well, that's a shame," Sirius declared before he caught a glimpse of Harry's face. His features softened. "You're relieved."

"Yes," Harry admitted. He sighed. "But you're right, I guess. I'm going to need a new owl, eventually." He had gradually come to terms with this fact. At first it had made him feel traitorous towards Hedwig – as if he was replacing her somehow, when, really, she could never be replaced – but it made sense, too, he knew that. Even so, it was a bit of a relief discovering that the shop was closed.

Sirius was watching him. Then he gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "Follow me."

The sun blinked in and out of view as Harry followed his godfather around a couple of corners and into a quiet alley. Somebody had spilled a handful of Bertie Bott's beans on the cobblestones and left them there but the splash of colour against the grey-brown stone made a rather cheerful effect.

Harry identified strawberry, bouillabaisse, peppermint and what he thought might be paper before Sirius drew him down to sit on a narrow flight of stairs conveniently drenched in a shaft of sunlight.

"I know this summer has been difficult," Sirius began.

Harry looked up at him. "It's been good, too."

A fond smile caught his godfather's lips. "Yeah. It has." He scratched his jaw. "But you know what I mean…"

Harry dropped his gaze to the cobblestones. "I guess… I guess I never really thought about what it would be like if I ever defeated Voldemort. I mean, I knew I had to try, but I didn't think about what might happen afterwards." The sunlight made his well-worn trainers look rather miserable. "And I wouldn't have imagined this."

Sirius' arm around his shoulders was reassuring. "Well, to be fair, I daresay nobody would have imagined this."

Harry smiled and leaned into his godfather's embrace. He took a moment to simply be there but then he shook his head. "I suppose I'm wondering what it will be like, going back to Hogwarts."

"I reckon a whole lot of people are wondering what it will be like," said Sirius. "And I'm guessing that has very little to do with you – the famous Harry Potter – returning, or me – a former prisoner of Azkaban – coming to teach, for that matter." He dropped a kiss to the crown of Harry's head. "Everybody will have to face their own, well, demons… or fears."

Harry pondered that for a moment. Safe in Sirius' arms and warmed by the sunlight, fear seemed very far away. "You know the old Sorting Hat?" he asked after a while.

Sirius gave an affirmative hum.

"Well, I was thinking… A few years back…" he said, slowly, being purposefully vague, for both their sakes, "it wanted us all to work together. The houses, I mean. And it warned us from letting the threat of Voldemort divide us."

"I seem to remember something like that…"

"Yes, well, I was just thinking that that is what we should do now: come together."

But he got no further before Sirius shifted beside him so that their eyes met. His godfather sported a grim look. "That song… Fifth year, was it?"

Harry swallowed and nodded. "Yeah."

Sirius did not respond immediately. His grey eyes were so heavy on Harry that it almost hurt to breathe. Then the older man let out a long breath and his shoulders dropped. "Fucking fifth year." He lifted a hand and dragged it through Harry's hair, pushing it back from his face.

Harry caught his hand and twined their fingers together. "I love you."

Something sparked in Sirius' eyes at that and a small grin settled in the corner of his lips. He brought their joined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of Harry's hand. "I say, set Hermione on it. Get her and the Hat working together." He winked. "Should do the trick. There'll be no more houses once they're done. Just one big family."

"Sirius…"

"No, I know." His godfather made a face. "I know, Harry. And you're right. There is a chance now, a real chance, for the wizarding world to come together. You're wise and I hear you." He smiled. "You have my full support."

"I wouldn't really know where to start, though," said Harry.

Sirius' face softened. There was a moment before he answered. "Just be you," he said, finally. "Just be there and be you. You are… enough. More than enough."

Harry could not think of anything to say to that and he was relieved when his godfather's tone transformed into something more business-like:

"In the meantime, we could get you new robes?" Sirius' eyes lit up dangerously. "I'll help with the fitting. You see, I think… in order to achieve the perfect fit you first have to disrobe…"

Harry could not help his grin. "I think I'll leave the fitting to Madame Malkin."

His godfather shook his head. "Still such a prude. But I'm sure you'll get over it, eventually."

"I'd better not," Harry muttered as they gained their feet, "or professor McGonagall will have us both thrown out of Hogwarts within a week's time."

Sirius only chuckled at that.

They exited the small street and made their way towards Madame Malkin's by unspoken agreement. It was not only Harry that needed new robes; as a professor Sirius would be expected to turn up in something more formal than his regular jeans-and-t-shirt attire, no matter his own preferences.

The robes shop was definitely open, they saw at once, even though the stone steps had cracked down the middle and the door was soot-stained. They were just about to go in when Harry spotted a pale flash in the corner of his eye that brought him to a halt.

"Sirius…"

"Hm?" His godfather had one foot over the threshold.

"Um, go on in, yeah? There's somebody I need to speak with." His heart had picked up a slightly quicker beat.

"What? Who?" The sunlight skidded over Sirius's dark locks as he turned his head to look in the direction of Harry's nod. "Ah." His mouth twisted oddly. "I see… Just don't…"

"I won't," Harry quickly cut across him. "Promise."

It took a couple of heartbeats but then Sirius' grimace faded and was replaced by a reluctant half-smile. Leaning in, he dropped a quick kiss to Harry's cheek. "Do whatever you want."

Grinning, he extricated his hand from his godfather's. The pale figure was waiting for him across the street in the shade of a sagging burgundy awning.

"I'm disappointed, Potter…" Draco drawled as Harry made his way over to join him. "Here I thought you'd taken up with a lunatic mass-murderer but apparently he's nothing of the sort."

"Sorry," Harry smiled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Draco was thin, very thin, but Harry was pleased to see that there was a light in his eyes that had not been there before. He was wearing plain, black robes and carried a bundle wrapped in brown paper under an arm.

"How are you, Draco?"

"Free. Cleared of all charges, apparently. But I suppose you knew that already?"

"Yeah…" Harry swallowed.

"Actually, now that I mention it, that's another way in which you disappointed me. I do believe I thought we bonded somehow – however inconceivable that is, all things considered, but anyway – and then you didn't even show up to tell me that they were going to let me out."

"They wouldn't let me," Harry told him quickly, and honestly. "I…" his cheeks coloured at the memory, "I might have yelled at Algernon Pod, the Chief Warlock…"

"Really?" One of Draco's eyebrows lifted. "You threw a tantrum on my behalf?"

"Well..."

"Oh. I see. For the record, I was lying. I did not miss you." Draco flashed a quick, wry smile. "Much." Then he inclined his head towards Madame Malkin's. "So. That's what Black looks like these days?"

Harry nodded. Secretly his heart took a little leap. "Yeah, that's Sirius."

Draco's upper lip sort of curled in badly hidden disapproval. "I must say, Potter, that he quite clearly lacks any refinement whatsoever. Are you sure you should be letting him inside a robes shop all by himself? Merlin knows what he might come out with."

"Oh…" Harry glanced down at his own worn jeans and trainers and grinned. "I suppose you could say the same thing about me."

Draco sighed. "True." Then he groaned. "Oh, bloody hell, Potter, you look disgustingly in love."

Harry grinned even broader. "I'm not apologising for that."

Draco only made a sound between a grunt and a huff. The door to Madame Malkin's opened but it was a middle-aged mother with two children who emerged into the sunlight. Harry supposed he should get in there and try out some new robes. He hesitated.

"So, um, will you be OK?"

"Oh, you will be able to decide that for yourself, in a not too distant future."

Harry met his clear, grey gaze. Not entirely unlike Sirius', but, he suddenly realised, they were related. That felt weird, but also… somehow right, at the same time. "What do you mean?"

Draco smoothed back his already slicked-back hair. "I will see you at Hogwarts, I believe."

"You're going back?"

He gave a nonchalant shrug. "Professor McGonagall sent me an owl. And since I'm fairly certain that any former Death Eater's prospects currently are, ah, somewhat bleak I thought it best to accept. So, you see, I managed to make the decision all by myself. Even before you had the chance to launch a 'Return to school, Draco,' campaign, but that's life."

Harry stared at him. "But that's great!"

Beside him, Draco shook his head. "Trust me when I say that I am not at all surprised that is your opinion. Now, if you would please release me I shall go and see whether Flourish and Blotts will accept some Death Eater gold."

Harry only had time to open his mouth before Draco thrust up his hand. "Don't. It was a joke." He flashed a bleak smile. "Mostly."

Harry nodded. He could not imagine what it must be like for Draco but he was also quite certain that questions about it would get him nowhere. Instead he only smiled in return. "Good luck."

"Thank you."

There was a spell of silence, a moment during which Harry felt like something else needed to be said, but then Draco lifted his chin and walked away, his black robes looking rather dull in the gleaming sunlight.

He was about to cross the street when a hand on his arm made him jump.

"Mr Potter!"

A small, elderly witch was beaming up at him. She was no taller than your average goblin, maybe even a few inches shorter. "Mr Potter," she repeated. "Such a pleasure to meet you at last."

Harry stared down at her while distant memories began stretching under thick cobwebs in the back of his mind. Her grey hair was softly curled and her eyes were a light blue. "Um…"

She was smiling. "Lovely day isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah…"

"Tell me, Mr Potter, how are you doing?"

"Um… well, I guess." Across the street the door to Madame Malkin's opened again and Harry's attention was immediately drawn to it. He involuntarily smiled when this time it was Sirius who was revealed in the doorway. His godfather lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sun and when he spotted Harry he grinned.

"Mr Potter?" Harry tore his gaze from Sirius. The tiny witch by his side was dressed in robes of a shimmering greyish-purple. "How are you feeling?"

Frowning, Harry saw the lines in her face, the smile… He could not help his own. "I'm good," he told her. "Very good." He almost surprised himself.

"Oh, I am so very glad to hear it."

"Although…" It was as if his thoughts tangled together. She was radiant, as if she was actively soaking up the sunlight and transmitting it back to him. "The Ministry…" He had no idea why he said that but it came out all the same.

Her hold on his arm strengthened slightly. He had almost forgotten that she was touching him. "No, no… Forget about the Ministry, Mr Potter. We have them under surveillance." She winked.

"Under surveillance? What do you mean?"

But she did not bite. In fact, her smile widened. "Progress. Soul-searching. It is not an entirely uncomplicated process, to be sure, but it will all be well in the end, I'm quite sure of it. We are keeping our eyes on them, you know. We were too lenient in the beginning, I admit, but then everything was terribly confused and no one knew where…"

His arm felt warm under her touch. "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

For a moment she looked nonplussed. Then she laughed. It was merry and short. "Of course… I confuse you, Mr Potter, I beg your pardon. You have met my sisters, you see. Oh, I feel as if I know you!"

"Your sisters?"

"Yes! Yes, indeed. You met my oldest sister first, you may recall. Or perhaps not, as it was under most difficult circumstances. Oh, hers has been a marvellous career! I'm not jealous, mind you, but there she is, granting Wishes to our most beloved heroes and heroines..."

Harry's eyes narrowed all on their own as his mind tried to make sense of what she was saying. "Wishes?"

"As you well know yourself, Mr Potter," she nodded. "Very well paid, she says. I suppose the downside is that there's not always very much to do, what with this rather severe lack of heroes and heroines we have been experiencing these past… Oh, I don't know, a few hundred years, give or take?"

"Your sister… granted my Wish?" It seemed like a lifetime ago. He tried to remember.

"Yes, yes! Grace – my sister, that is – has worked for them for ages! She was hand-picked for the job, you know."

Harry's head was spinning. He had never thought it possible. Sirius had been dead. Then she had said it: 'Possible to Return'.

"That was your sister?" He remembered her quill, for some reason, all of a sudden. It was silver.

"Yes, one of them." She patted his arm. "Then you met Faith at the Ministry, I believe. I will be honest with you, Mr Potter. She did say that at first glance you appeared rather, ah, unfocused. Forgive me."

"Faith was at Lucius' trial," Harry said. He blinked at her. "How is it that I barely remember her? Or your other sister?"

Her smile had turned somewhat indulgent. "Oh, it is part of… the experience, as they say."

"Who are you?"

"Ah! There we go. Very good." She nodded, clearly pleased with his question. "Now, look, there is someone you know!"

Harry followed her gaze to Draco. He had reappeared with a second parcel under his arm. Now he stood by the broken steps of Madam Malkin's, seemingly weighing his courage against his need for new robes. Harry counted one heartbeat, two, three, four and five before Draco appeared to square his shoulders and push the door open. He disappeared.

Then something else caught his eye and he half-turned away from the witch beside him. Sirius was slowly making his way over to him. So, so slowly, as if time had decided to stop rushing forwards so maddeningly fast and was simply going to allow these holiday shoppers to enjoy the sunshine and the clear blue skies overhead. Sirius' t-shirt was hopelessly old and faded but his smile was gloriously radiant. Harry's heart swelled.

"Mr Potter, you asked me a question."

Reluctantly, Harry turned back to her and saw her as through a daze. It looked to him as if she was blurring before his eyes, as if the light of the day was seeping into, and flowing from her, at the same time.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, at long last, Harry Potter." Her smile was so wide he barley understood it. "And for the record, I am Hope."

She was gone before he knew it but that did not matter. All that mattered was that the sunlight was streaming down and Sirius was coming towards him.

TBC