A/N: And, once again, i got sucked into the big black hole that's real life... Sorry for the delay, guys.
31 July 1997
It was little before dawn when Sirius apparated onto the front steps of his house after another night on full-moon duty.
It was a warm summer night, he noted, allowing himself to pause for a few seconds on the doorstep, knowing that area was already covered by the outer layer of the house's wards. A warm night without a cloud on the still-dark sky, no doubt announcing a glorious summer day – that was a first. All summer, with only rare exceptions, had seemed anything but the season in question: constant dark patches of heavy grey clouds, permanent mist and unnatural cold.
One might be tempted to call 'luck' to the fact that Harry would potentially have pleasant weather for his birthday… his godfather called it proverbial instead: the calm before the storm. And, more than likely, carefully planned by the snake-face bastard, just like he was daring Harry to come out and play now that he could use magic freely.
While that thought remained lingering in his head, a sudden movement on the corner of his eye had Sirius turning like an arrow. It was nothing apparently… nothing human, at least, just what seemed to be a temperamental streetlamp at the end of the street having problems remaining on. He looked at it sceptically for a few seconds: he could have sworn it had been a movement and not a light that had called his attention before…
Sirius shook his head seconds later, huffing as he turned to tap his wand on the door's lock so it would open. Merlin, he was letting himself become paranoid, he thought. It was finally hitting him, he concluded as stepped into the house, the fact that his godson would be leaving in the following day or the one after that at best… So, there it was: worry and sleep deprivation – a perfect cocktail for paranoia.
Sighing, Sirius closed the door and hung his cloak. The house was pitch dark and completely silent aside from the sound of his own movements, yet he started climbing up the stairs without bothering to turn the lights on as he practically knew every step he had to take in order to reach his room by heart.
Sometimes, when walking around that house, he could close his eyes and imagine what it had been decades before. A hell-hole carefully designed to look as non-homey as it could possibly be and where one had to think twice before touching any object they didn't know, or else they might end up losing a hand. Just horrifying.
It was strange how that could be the place where some of his worst memories lay and, by far, also the best ones did too… and it pleased him that the latter ones seemed to be outnumbering the others. He was determined to make sure that outnumbering would continue to grow more and more over the years… the last thing he wanted, after all, was for any of his kids to have the same fate as his brother had: being twisted into becoming the bad guy and never having the chance to enjoy the fact that he'd gone back to being the good one in the end. Just the thought of it gave him a pang of anger and sadness.
Sighing, Sirius stopped climbing the stairs when he reached the second floor, making his way to one of the doors instead – the one leading to his godson's room. He cracked it open a few inches and peaked inside to check if Harry was still there – it wasn't that he didn't trust the boy to stay for as long as he'd promised but it didn't hurt to check if he hadn't already left for his quest. He was glad to see that wasn't the case as Harry appeared to still be asleep on his bed, his body comically lying across it instead of along it as he snored softly and mumbled something that sounded a lot like his girlfriend's name… Feeling amused and just a little relieved, Sirius closed the door back again and resumed climbing up to his room.
When he reached it, a thin strip of light escaping through a gap between the curtains ran across the room, ending on the bed, where he spotted not only his wife but also a certain two-year-old who looked remarkably like a younger version of him and his faithful stuffed dog.
"Little usurper," he mumbled under his breath as he carefully sat on the edge of the bed, by little Alex's side – who remained completely oblivious to his father's presence – and reached with his hand to touch Mia's face softly.
She started to stir almost immediately, stretching instinctively before her eyes opened in a series of blinks. She smiled sleepily at him as soon as she saw him. "Hi," she whispered. "You're back…"
"I'm back."
"Is it morning yet?"
"Depends on your definition of 'morning' – it's little before five," he replied softly.
"Hum," she mumbled sleepily. "You came back earlier than I thought you would."
"Clearly. Looks like you've replaced me with another man," Sirius said, trying to sound pouty as he mock-glared at the little boy's sleeping form.
Mia smiled sleepily and reached to place a kiss on top of their son's head. "He's younger than you too," she replied.
"Handsome like his dad, that's what he is," Sirius replied.
"Well, I suppose it's your own fault he ended up in this bed tonight – if you hadn't let him nap all afternoon long, it wouldn't have been such an impossible task to put him to sleep," Mia informed him, softly caressing her sleeping little boy's hair. "My baby is a little rebel like his daddy."
"A little rebel that's going back to his own bed," he said, picking the little boy up, knowing by his sleeping patterns that the odds of him waking up were rather slim. "Daddy needs his side of the bed back," he murmured, turning back to Mia, whose eyes were already closing back again. "Go back to sleep, love. I'll be right back."
"Hum, hum," she mumbled, nodding absently, grabbing his pillow and rolling to her side.
Grinning tiredly, Sirius stood up and crossed the room to the door, his little son obliviously asleep with his head on his father's shoulder and an arm around his always-faithful toy, Pafoo.
Stepping out of the hall and entering his son's room, Sirius made his way to Alex's bed and carefully placed him back on it, pulling the covers over the sleeping little boy. He didn't even stir, Sirius noted with a chuckle – slept like a brick, that one.
For a while, he just stood there, watching his son lay peacefully, his little chest rising a falling rhythmically – so obliviously innocent, he thought. Regulus had been just that way once, before his parents had managed to completely taint his mind with all sorts of prejudice and hate…
He'd had plenty of time that night while minding Moony to think of how someone could have done such a thing to a child of theirs… and he didn't like the outcome of that thinking. Not one bit. He wished he'd followed Mia's advice and not thought too much but, Merlin, watching a rather tame werewolf (thanks to the Wolfsbane potion, which seemed to be the only thing Tonks was great at making for her husband to ingest) that had fallen asleep a couple of hours into his transformation made one either equally sleepy or heavily thoughtful… He hadn't been so lucky to get the first.
The thinking hadn't seemed so bad at first – it gave him a chance to process his brother's good deed, to grieve for his death, to blame his downfall on his parents… he wished he'd stopped there. He should have stopped there. He had a right to hate his parents for turning his brother into a Death Eater, didn't he? For treating him like crap and everything… They were bastards – it had never been possible to deny that. If only he'd stopped there…
But that little voice in the back of his head wouldn't let him. So, he'd kept on thinking. Why were they bastards? How had they become that way? The answer that came didn't please him: they'd been raised that way too, to hate Muggles, to favour pure-bloods. As had his grandparents, great-grandparents… It was a bloody vicious circle from which few had been able to break apart: him, Andromeda, his uncle Alphard… So, as much as he wished he could pin it all on them, every little bit of blame and hate, he had to accept that he couldn't. It went back way longer than them.
And what irked him the most was that part of him was perfectly aware that, if he hadn't been pig-headed enough to want to give hell to his parents at all costs, he could have so easily become just like them. He could have never learned otherwise and then, who knew, fate would have made everything different… The thought made him want to shudder. He'd been stronger than that. That was what mattered.
Turning away from his thoughts, he reached to place a last kiss on his sleep son's hair and, after entering the nursery to check on little Mary only to find her still peacefully settled in the world of dreams, he made his way back into the room, positively craving for a bed after an exhausting day and night.
Changing into night clothing was a lazy task before he made his way to the bed, noting Mia didn't seem to have moved an inch from where she'd been when he'd left… still firmly clutching his pillow as if daring him to come and get it. After a few seconds evaluating the situation, he figured there was no way around getting it without waking her up…
He didn't have to consider that further, though, as Mia's voice filled his ears seconds later, announcing she wasn't actually that much asleep. "Come to bed," she mumbled, her voice muffled against his pillow and her eyes still closed.
"Well, I was just going to – I was just trying to figure out how to rescue my pillow," he said, chuckling lightly.
She opened one eye and managed to give him a defying look. "I'm holding it hostage until you trade yourself for it," she stated firmly.
"Oh, well, if that's the price I have to pay," he replied, lifting the covers. "Let it be."
Mia was faithful to her word when he slipped under the covers and gave his pillow back, resting firmly against his side instead. "So," she asked her face resting against his neck, "how are you doing?"
"You sure you want to talk about that now?" Sirius replied. "I thought you were more asleep than awake."
Mia shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Fine enough to offer a listening ear, at least," she told him. "So, tell me, how did it go? Your thinking concerning the Regulus matter, that is."
He made a groaning sound. "Ask me that again in a few weeks when I've had time to fully digest it," Sirius requested, feeling strangely wakeful as well, lying by his wife's side – just part of the strange effect she still had on him: soothing and energizing at the same time. He'd never get tired of it. "I wish I'd learned about this earlier… that way I wouldn't have thought of him as some weak moron for so long."
Mia gave him a sympathetic look. "Sometimes you're not meant to learn about certain things until it's the right time. We don't have to like it and it certainly doesn't make those things easier to swallow – it even makes it harder sometimes – but it shifts things closer to the way they're meant to become in the end."
She hated fate most of the time – what wasn't there to hate after what it had put her godson through? But she had to admit that it had its own role in putting the world together. She hadn't found out Lulu was her mother until she'd had a baby of her own. Knowing that it had been kept from her for so long had hurt her very much but, had she been told earlier, would she have been able to understand the lengths that a parent was willing to go through just to be part of her child's life? Maybe Sirius hadn't learned about his brother until then for a reason. She really didn't know. The fact was that the slightest change in the past could have transformed everything from then on and, at the rate things were, they couldn't afford wishing for better and ending up with worse…
"Yeah, well, Reg was a good kid. And I'll be damned if, after this whole thing is over, I don't make sure the world knows it. I owe it to him. As for the rest… I'm still trying to figure it out," he declared tiredly.
"I'm sure you won't be the only one. Who's trying to figure things out, I mean," Mia informed him softly. "Now, on to other business, how did Remus do this full moon?"
He sighed, glad she was changing the subject – she understood him too well… "He'll be fine," Sirius declared. "This was a pretty good one, compared to many others… He was lucky to sleep through most of it."
"That's good. I really didn't think you would be back until six or so," she mumbled, nestling her head more comfortably against his shoulder and allowing one of his arms to circle her, "you rarely do when you go to help him."
"Yeah, well, let's just say a certain pink-haired witch showed up just as soon as I sent her a Patronus to tell her that her husband was all bloke again and promptly shooed me away," he let her know before grinning, unable to keep the joke that crossed his mind to himself. "I imagine she plans to take advantage of his weakened state."
"Poor Remus," Mia mumbled, looking up at his face and smiling a little.
"Makes your heart clench, doesn't it? So helpless at that mad woman's mercy…" Sirius said, dramatically clicking his tongue. "But well, at least she can't make him get her any more pregnant than she already is."
"Yes, that would be quite unique," she observed dryly.
Sirius chuckled lightly and kissed the top of her hair. "Great because Moony most certainly doesn't need any more raging hormones than he's already dealing with. Although I suppose that Tonks showing up must mean they've patched things up."
"They were at odds again?" Mia questioned.
"Yeah. Apparently, Moony had the unfortunate idea of encouraging Tonks to go easy on her job due to her 'delicate condition'," he informed her, shaking his head in disapproval. "Not the brightest idea."
"Oh, wouldn't you know?"
He frowned. "I won't even grace that with an answer other than pointing out that I love you as well as our born and unborn children beyond reason. Blame me for being protective."
"Annoyingly so, if I recall it well," Mia reminded him.
"Your memories are awfully exaggerated by the shocking amount of hormones in your blood when they were formed, love," he stated, rolling his eyes. "Pregnant women… just as glorious as they are difficult. Moony's in for a treat with a knocked up auror around – he'll end up quite a lot in the spell damage ward of St. Mungo's. They might as well have a bed with his name on it."
"Now who's exaggerating it?" Mia replied.
"Don't worry, love. It's all worth it," he informed her, kissing her forehead before shifting to a more comfortable position so they were facing each other sideways in bed. "We should have another baby."
Mia's brows shot up. "You honestly want to have yet another child in the middle of the war?"
He shook his head. "Not now. After it's over. There's bound to be a baby boom after the war, love. We'll just be doing out share of work," Sirius pointed out, smiling suggestively.
"Oh, well, if you put it that way, who am I to deny it?"
"Really?" he asked, hopeful.
"No!" she replied. "See this as a 'maybe I'll think of it', not a 'definitely 'yes'. This is definitely not the sort of decision one makes this early in the morning. Anyway, don't you have your hands full already with a nearly two-and-a-half-year-old kid and a six-month infant? Not to mention two teenagers and an aged house-elf."
"First of all, that last one doesn't count in my book. Second of all… love, after making it through a bloody war, I'm sure handling three kids under the age of five would be pretty manageable in comparison," he said, confidently.
"Right. Remember that a few years from now if I do agree to have another child," she pointed out. "You know, one would think four kids were enough. Especially when two of them are pretty close to reaching legal adulthood. Harry's practically of age, Sirius."
"Not 'practically', love. Just of age," Sirius corrected her.
She gave him a puzzled look. "Hum?"
"It's after midnight, love. Remember? It's Harry's birthday. He's officially of age," Sirius informed her.
After hearing that, Mia just lay there quietly for several seconds, her mouth gaping half-open as she looked at her husband, who observed her closely, waiting for an answer. It was Harry's birthday, she thought, suddenly aware of the meaning of it.
She'd known what day it was, of course – she's been making plans for her godson's birthday breakfast for days, after all. And obviously she was aware of what age Harry was turning, as well as what meaning that carried for him and for all of them. But the fact that it was there… it made everything so much more real. "Harry's of age," she whispered, feeling the weight of reality crushing her like a bug. "Merlin, Sirius…" She looked at her husband, feeling her eyes suddenly burn.
"Hey… hey," he said softly, quickly reaching for her and enveloping her form with his arms, holding her protectively against his chest. She held him just as firmly, her body tense from head to toe although she was fighting hard not to start a fit of crying. "It's okay, love," he whispered. "You knew this was coming."
She sniffed. "I know but… he's leaving tomorrow. That is, if he hasn't alre…"
"He's still in his bed," Sirius assured her, easily predicting what she was wondering about. "I checked."
"Oh," she mumbled, a bit relieved.
"He wouldn't sneak out without telling you. You know that, Mia," he said.
"I do but…" she sighed. "It's like time's snuck up on me and suddenly it's the day before the one when he leaves." She let out a breath. "I'm scared, Sirius. I'm really scared. One thing is letting go of your kids so they can build their own future, another is letting them go and risk it altogether. I get more and more scared for Harry every day."
"You don't really have a choice, love. This is a caught-between-a-rock-and-a-hard-place type of situation. You just have to trust the kid – if there's anyone who can beat the odds and kick that snake-faced bastard's arse, it's Harry."
Mia let out a long breath. "Merlin."
He kissed the top of her head in a soothing fashion. "Listen, what you really need to do is to sit down with Harry and talk. In a few hours, you'll go to him to him and give him his present and the two of you will do just that – have an honest talk, mother to son. Just the two of you."
Mia closed her eyes for a second. "I hate this."
"You're not the only one," he assured her, shifting their positions so he could place a kiss on her lips. "But now what you need to do, love, is just to relax and have a few more hours of sleep because, first, freaking out at five in the morning doesn't usually lead to anything good and, second, because I'd really, really like to catch a few hours of sleep before Harry blows his candles."
She let out a breath. "I'm sorry. For a moment there, I forgot you'd actually been up all night. Thanks for listening."
He reached with his hand to caress her face and gave her a grin. "Always," Sirius promised, pulling her just a bit closer to him and drawing lazy circles on her back with his fingertips.
And only after he felt her breathing become slower and her body relaxing further against his, did he let himself drift to sleep too.
Packing was a bummer, Harry quickly concluded little more than ten minutes after starting to select the things that he should and shouldn't take with him when he left for his quest. The basics were easy to choose, of course: his wand and his clothes. But the rest… should he take his broom with him since it might come handy for transportation? Some of the spell books he'd read over the summer? His leftover potion-ingredients just in case?
He could practically hear Hermione's voice in his head scolding him over leaving that for the last moment. She'd be sort of right, really… he admitted to himself.
While he was rummaging through the pile of stuff he's created on his bed, the door of his room opened as Izzy stepped in unceremoniously, not even bothering to knock.
"Please come on in – no need to knock so hard on the door," he mumbled sarcastically, slightly annoyed.
"Yeah, sure," she mumbled with a shrug. "Happy Birthday, grumpy. You're officially of age - why don't you just use a spell for that?" she asked as she stood at the door clad in pyjamas and hair rather messy, gesturing at the mess of items on his bed.
"You need to choose what to take before using the spell. And, trust me, shoving what I have to take into a bag is the easiest part of the process," he replied.
"Right," she mumbled, covering a yawn with her hand. "Well, anyway, I was just downstairs and there was a letter addressed to you from the ministry," Izzy informed him, reaching for it in the pocket of her pyjamas. "Here, I brought it up for you."
Harry accepted the envelope, frowning. "The ministry, you say?"
"From the minister's own office," Izzy amended. "Kreacher said it was personally handed by her house-elf. Sounds important."
"And I bet you brought it up because you want to hear all about it," he mumbled in return, ripping the envelope open.
"You know me too well," his sister replied carelessly. Also, she'd brought it up to get an excuse to make sure Harry wouldn't show up downstairs while Kreacher was busy preparing his surprise birthday breakfast.
Oblivious to his family's plans, though, Harry unfolded the letter and started reading, first noting that it seemed to be written by Minister Bones herself.
Dear Mr Potter,
First of all, I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and give you my best wishes for your journey through adult life, despite the current circumstances that we are all aware of.
The main reason why I am writing to you today is to inform you that Albus Dumbledore left you a number of his possessions in his will.
Harry's eyebrows shot up. Dumbledore had left him something in his will? What could it be? he wondered. Could he have left him something that would help him with the Horcrux hunt? Maybe a map of the Horcruxes he didn't already know about? More pensieve memories?
"What?" Izzy asked, noting how surprised her brother looked. She crossed the room to stand by his side, trying to sneak a peak of the letter. "What does it say?"
"Dumbledore left me something in his will."
"Really? What is it?"
"I don't know – let me finish, Izzy," he replied, resuming his reading.
I must apologize for not informing you of it earlier but I'm afraid the Wizengamot took an odd amount of interest in this matter and insisted that I enforce an outdated law barring underage wizards from receiving willed possessions from someone outside of their immediate family until the day they reach adulthood.
If it is convenient to you, I would like to hand those items personally to you tomorrow as the Weasleys were so kind to invite me to their oldest son's wedding. We shall also further discuss this matter in person, it that's alright with you.
Please let me know if you'd like to make other arrangements.
I hope you enjoy your day, Mr. Potter.
Yours Sincerely,
Amelia Susan Bones
Minister of Magic
"Stupid Wizengamot must have gotten their sticky fingers all over your stuff," Izzy said, having read the rest by herself. "No wonder. Dad says at least fifty percent of the blokes there are either closeted Death Eaters or best pals with them. If it weren't for Bones, they probably wouldn't have given anything to you."
Harry nodded. "It wouldn't surprise me that much." He'd met Bones a few times in person and, from the first time he's seen her back in his firth year, following the Dementor situation, she'd rubbed him as nice, approachable sort of person, very much unlike Cornelius Fudge. He was glad to see that becoming the Minister of Magic didn't seem to have change that and made a mental note to send Bones with a reply through Kreacher as not even the minister herself seemed to trust owl mail for those matters anymore.
"Any guess about what they left for you?" Izzy asked
"I'm hoping for some sort of map with the Horcruxes marked on it."
"You'd better hope that, if that's the case, it's the sort that doesn't show without a password like the Marauders' Map, or else the Wizengamot will be way ahead of you," she pointed out.
"Yeah," Harry agreed before suddenly recalling something. "Oh, and speaking of the Marauders' Map…" he reached for the pile of stuff on his bed and dug through it, removing the blank piece of parchment both of them knew to be the map and handing it to Izzy "…take it. I told Ginny. I'd leave it behind for both of you – it wouldn't be of much use outside of Hogwarts."
"Thanks," Izzy replied, accepting the map. "I suppose it could come handy every once in a while."
Harry nodded. "And also…" he said, going back to digging into the pile and fetching the two-way mirror that was part of the set that had once been shared between his father and his godfather "… I want you to keep this too. Before you say anything, I won't take it with me and that's final. This thing has proven itself to be the best way to ask for help from within Hogwarts and I want to know that, if there's an attack to the school, you and Ginny will have a way to do it. I'll find some other way to let you know that I'm fine every once in a while. So just take it."
To his surprise, Izzy just shrugged and took the mirror from him. "Alright, if you say so."
He raised his eyebrows. "I somehow imagined you'd put up a fight with this."
"Yeah, well, let's just say it isn't the first time that the matter of you taking the mirror or not with you has crossed my mind. We know you, Harry, so trust me, we've got the communications issue covered."
"What's that supposed to mean? Who's 'we'?" he asked, suspiciously.
"You'll know soon enough. Don't ask questions," she told him.
He didn't look all that willing to comply but Hedwig's complaints for attention from her cage caught his attention. He approached the large cage on the desk by the window and fed her some owl treats he had lying around.
"What are you going to do with her?" Izzy asked him, eyeing the snowy owl. Though Harry was its official owner, it was mostly used by the whole family as they'd never gotten around buying another one.
"I can't take her along – a snowy owl would catch too much attention…" he said, sadly. Hedwig was yet another thing he had to leave behind.
"We'll take care of her for you," Izzy promised.
Harry turned to her and gave her a thankful smile. "Thanks."
"Now can you stop giving your stuff away, temporarily or not? It's freaking me out…" Part of her felt like he was saying goodbye forever. She didn't even want to consider it a possibility.
Before Harry could come up with any sort of reply, a knock sounded on the door, making both of them turn to it just as Mia opened the door and stepped in.
"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" she asked softly.
"No, we were just talking," Izzy replied. "I was actually just about to leave…"
"You should probably go take a shower now and then go wake your father up… Oh, and Lulu and Gabe are downstairs – they're watching tour brother and sister and helping with… breakfast," Mia told her.
Izzy nodded. "Okay, I'll do that," she said, gathering the Marauder's map and the two-way mirror, which she'd placed down at some point, before quickly making an exit.
Not bothering to close the door behind her daughter, Mia remained inside the room, approaching her godson's bed slowly.
"Packing?"
Harry nodded. "Hermione said I need to have everything I want to take ready today. She wants to take it all this afternoon just in case… Don't ask me what she's going to do with it – at this point, I know better than asking her."
"Alright," she said, stepping into the room quietly. "I see choosing what to take and what to leave isn't the easiest of tasks."
"You never know what you're going to need. Hermione's freaking out over what books to take along. You'd think she was planning a reading marathon."
His godmother laughed softly. "She's resourceful – you can't deny that."
"She's Hermione," he simply replied.
Mia sighed, taking a seat on his bed. "So, seventeen… how does it feel to be of age?"
Harry shrugged. "So far not as astounding as I'd imagined," he confessed.
She smiled. "I thought exactly the same thing. Your godfather and I did. Discussing that during our birthday party led to a… certainly interesting turn of events."
Her godson nodded quietly for a moment, spending a few seconds messing with his items before saying what he had to say. "I'm sorry."
Mia looked up, raising her eyebrows. "What for?"
"For… everything. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been put through all this mess of me leaving and…"
"No," she said, stopping him. "Don't apologize for that. That is anything but your fault and family… it's our duty to be there for each other. You don't have to apologize in the least, Harry, you hear me? We care because we love you."
"But…"
"No buts, Harry," his godmother said. "Not everything in the world is your fault. We're supposed to worry."
Harry sighed at that and sat down by her side on the bed. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," she replied before reaching with her hand into her pocket and removing what seemed to be a miniature key-ring or something. Fetching her wand too, Mia tapped it onto the little object and made it grow into a larger size until it revealed itself to be a wrapped gift, which she handed to Harry. "Happy Birthday, Harry."
"Er… thanks again," he mumbled, slightly embarrassed at accepting the now larger cube-shaped gift. "You didn't have to."
"Of course we did – it's your birthday. Now, go ahead – open it," Mia encouraged her godson.
"Alright – give me a second," Harry said, struggling to unwrap the coloured paper from around what revealed itself to be some sort of leather box. He furrowed his brows at it until he found an opening to that box too, which he used in order to reveal the presence of a gold watch within. "Wow," he mumbled. "Looks fancy."
"And yet we didn't spend a knut. It used to belong to your father," Mia told Harry, who looked up at her in surprise.
"Really? Where had it been all this time?"
"Surprisingly, still resting in the evidence room at the Auror department," his godmother explained. "Sirius had been wondering for a while where it had ended up and then we guessed James must've been wearing it when…" Her quietness was clear enough at explaining what she meant – when James had died. "The aurors collected most of his and your mother's personal items as evidence and we managed to pull a few strings through Tonks and Kingsley to get them back for you…" she explained. "I know all this may sound a bit morbid but… your father would have wanted to have that. It's been in your family since the late 1700s – it used to be a pocket-watch before your late grandfather had it converted into a wrist watch to be more practical. It's tradition that it passes from Potter to Potter in their seventeenth birthday, so here's to hoping that, one day, you have a chance to pass it down to your own son."
Harry smiled – actually smiled at her –, looked down at the watch for several seconds and turned back to her again. "Thanks for going through the trouble of finding it. It's the greatest gift, Aunt Mia."
She smiled. "It's not just a regular watch, Harry," Mia informed him.
He raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
His godmother sighed. "Well, we took the liberty of taking it to Gabe to have it fixed – he has a hand with that sort of thing – and we ended up asking him to do a little extra something to it. Finding a way for you to communicate safely and discretely with us during your time away was something that's been in our minds all summer and, well, a few weeks ago we figured something out that involved using that watch…"
This must be what Izzy meant, Harry thought to himself, listening to his godmother's explanation. "So what? I talk to the watch and somehow you listen?"
Mia shook her head. "It doesn't quite work that way – I'm not sure there's even a spell for that… This one is actually a charm that works similarly to what we use in the Order to summon members discretely – we call it the 'silent calling'. Anyway, this charm is a bit more complex – I think Gabriel improvised it himself. It doesn't really communicate through words but instead through signals. Put it on – it's easier if I just show you…"
Harry complied, reaching for the shiny gold watch inside the box and slipping it around his wrist with his godmother's help. It felt odd, in a way, to think that his father had been using it when he's been born exactly seventeen years before… "What now?" he asked.
"Roll it around your wrist. Upwards," Mia instructed him.
He did so and immediately felt the gold turn hotter – not burning hot but just enough for him to know it wasn't a random thing. "It got hotter. What does that mean?" he asked.
Mia didn't respond, instead stretching her arm in front of him to show him her own watch. "Touch this one," she instructed.
Harry did and found it also hot at touch. "They're connected," he concluded.
Mia nodded. "They are. When you roll the watch upward around, it will mean you're alright. When you do it downwards, means you need our help – then it will turn very cold."
"And what if I roll it downwards by mistake?"
His godmother shook her head. "You won't. The watch won't go down unless you actually think you need help," Mia explained. "The charm is designed to know that: the watch itself won't roll around your wrist unless you make it roll and it won't go downwards unless you mean it. To avoid any misunderstandings. Gabriel is good at this sort of thing."
"He must be," Harry agreed. To make sure it worked the way she told him it did, he tried to roll it down but the watch simply refused to move, like it was stuck. He gave it an impressed look. "And say one day I need help – how will you know where I am?"
"That's where it works the most like the silent calling – when the watch goes cols, it will let us know of your location. We can tap our wand on the glass and then on a piece of parchment, which automatically write the address in there," Mia explained. "That's the only occasion when it will let us know where you are exactly – when you ask for help. We tested it ourselves… Sirius and I. It took a few days to manage it because we needed for him to actually think he needed my help but one very messy diaper from Mary seemed to do the trick."
Harry couldn't help chuckling at that. "So, who else knows about this?"
"Aside from Gabriel, just me, Sirius and Izzy. Lulu might know too – I'm not sure. But, anyway, it's our birthday gift to you," she told him.
He nodded. "It really is the greatest gift," he told her. "I'll always keep it with me."
"And I'll always keep mine on… or your godfather can keep his. Gabe made it so we can re-route the connection between the two of us," Mia informed him before sighing. "Listen, Harry. I'm not asking for you to spend all the time rolling that watch to let us know you're fine, not even every day but every once in a while… try just to check in with us. Let us know you're alright."
Harry nodded. "I will. Does it… does this work both ways? Is it possible for you to check in with me too?"
Mia shook her head. "The problem with these spells is that they put a lot of… stress on the object they're attached to. A two-sided one would tear that watch apart and could even wear out ahead of time, which would cut off communication altogether – that's why they don't use these charms so broadly…" she said. "I know this may sound hypocritical of mine, but the last thing you should do out there is worrying about us. We can take care of each other and we won't exactly be hiding, so you'll probably hear news from us every once in a while. We'll try to find a way to contact you directly if we need to send you a message… or if we hear news about Mundungus Fletcher's whereabouts."
Once again, Harry nodded, although this time he was silent as he did that.
"So," his godmother started a few seconds later, by the time Harry was already up and had resumed going through his stuff, "you're really going tomorrow?"
"That's the plan," he replied. "After the wedding. But please don't ask me where I'm going after that… the least any of you knows, the better for all of us."
"I know," Mia replied, sighing. "You're really sure you don't want anyone else to help during…"
Harry shook his head. "If it were up to me, I'd go own my own altogether but Ron and Hermione threatened to do it too if I don't take them along… I suppose we're better off as a trio in the end but I can't take anyone else. Please don't ask me that. Knowing they're risking their lives for me is bad enough."
Mia sighed. "You know, it's unbelievable to sit here and know you're officially an adult now. One day when you have children, you'll see just how quickly their growing sneaks up on up. One moment they're learning to crawl, the other they're turning seventeen and flying away from the nest. It feels awfully unreal. Almost as much as it makes you feel proud of them."
Her godson didn't respond at first, struggling to gather his words before finally speaking. "You should feel proud of yourself, not me," he said, feeling a bit embarrassed as he told her that, although he meant every word. "You've always been there since I was a baby, trying to protect me… being a mum. I owe you everything."
"There's no fee for family," she replied, genuinely touched by his words.
"I didn't forget my promise," Harry told her. "If… no, when I come back, when this is all over, I'll start calling you 'Mum'."
Mia smiled. "Now I feel like I should meet that promise with one equally meaningful but that one's a bit hard to top. I suppose I'll have to stick with promising to let Kreacher start cleaning your room after you come back. So you won't have to always hide your messes in your school-trunk."
He scratched the back of his head, embarrassed. "You knew that?"
Mia chuckled. "Of course I did. I always know," she replied, smiling.
The two of them turned to the door when the sound of someone clearing their throat came from there and quickly spotted a tired-looking Sirius waiting at the door. "Kid, your presence is hereby requested downstairs."
Harry raised his eyebrows at his godfather. "You look terrible."
"Yeah, well, I was up 'till five babysitting a werewolf," Sirius replied dryly.
"Then why aren't you still asleep in bed?"
He shrugged. "Duty calls. Less asking and more walking, mate."
Harry didn't move an inch, starting to look suspicious. "Hum. So what exactly is requesting my presence downstairs?" he asked Sirius.
"You'll see," Mia promised, responding for her husband. "Just go on, Harry."
He still remained in place. "There's not some big flashy present waiting for me downstairs, is there? Because this watch was the perfect gift. Thanks, Sirius, by the way."
"Don't mention it – your dad would have wanted you to have it," Sirius replied, grinning. "And, answering your question, no, there isn't some big flashy present down there. Though there may be presents involved…"
Mia shot her husband a warning look but was too late. Harry's eyes were already narrowing, even more suspiciously. "It's not some party, right? I clearly remember opposing to parties." When both his godparents refused to answer, instead looking away and pretending to be more interested in checking their nails, he was certain he'd hit the right spot. "Sirius! Aunt Mia!"
"It's not a party," his godfather quickly pointed out. "Just a birthday breakfast. Nothing big or anything."
"Big enough for you to wake for it on purpose," Harry stated. "Just who exactly is attending this not so big birthday breakfast."
"Well, the lot of us," Sirius told him.
"Ginny, Ron and Hermione too," Mia added.
"And Lulu and Gabe," her husband finished. "Moony was meant to come but, well, the full moon speaks for itself."
"That makes more than ten people. More than ten people constitute a party," Harry informed them. "You know the last thing in my mind now is going to a party and celebrate. As if the wedding isn't enough…"
"Then don't see it as a party, Harry," Mia told him. "See it as a close group of people who care about you and want to spend some quality time together during not-so-happy times."
"And, also, see it as giving a big 'screw you' to Voldemort's face by pretending he's not even out there for the next few hours," Sirius provided. "Just imagine how pissed off he'd be if he knew Harry Potter was celebrating his birthday instead of giving a damn about him."
"If you don't do it for yourself, Harry, at least do it for the rest of us," Mia requested, knowing he would later regret it if he passed up this opportunity of just being Harry for a while.
Harry eyed his godparents for a few seconds before doing anything. Eventually, though, he just resigned himself. "Fine," he accepted. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt."
"That's the stuff, kid," Sirius said, slipping one arm around his godson's shoulders to guide him out of the room and down the stairs. Before starting walking, he gave his wife a wink, to which she responded with a smile.
As he silently made his way down the stairs with his godparents in a tow, Harry had to recognize in his mind that Sirius had a point: going on with their lives was the biggest insult Voldemort could possibly get…
And, when he stepped in the kitchen and saw the smiles, read the faces and heard a chorus of voices wishing him a Happy Birthday, he'd be damned if he didn't feel just like a normal kid for a while.
A/N: Alright, next chapter is most definitely the wedding, guys. Once again, sorry for the delay. I can't wait to finish my degree, that's all I can say... I hope you liked the chapter :D I sure liked to write it but by bit... Feedback is welcome! Review!