The Righteous and the Wicked by Orion in the Sky
Chapter Two: While Everyone's Lost, the Battle is Won

Warnings (this chapter): AU.

Please pay attention to the dates before each scene. This chapter takes the story from 1981 to 1995, which is when all of the back story catches up with our characters.

October 31, 1981 – London, England

"Mummy, can you please help me take off these ears?" asked Dora Tonks, tugging at the black, charmed-on cat's ears she wore. Andromeda dutifully waved her wand and the ears disappeared.

"Mine too!" said Nashira, who had wanted to dress the same as her sister. Her ginger-colored ears were soon gone as well.

"Can we see Neville again tomorrow?" asked Dora. The Longbottoms had invited the Tonkses over for a small Halloween party. Unfortunately, the three kids had spent the first hour relentlessly asking when their fourth friend, Harry Potter, was going to arrive. Harry, Lily, and James had gone into hiding one week before Halloween and their absences left a large hole in the small group's lives. Since Lily was no longer able to watch the kids during the day, the Longbottoms and Andromeda had offered to pay Molly Weasley to watch them. They didn't know anyone else well enough, and in times like these it was best to stick with people you knew.

"Fred 'n George, too," insisted Nashira.

"But not Bill," Dora added quickly. Bill had tugged on her hair the first time they met. He claimed it was because he been amazed at seeing it grow long in seconds (which was "totally wicked") but Dora didn't care either way—she and Bill Weasley were now mortal enemies for life.

"We'll see," said Andromeda. "Now, though, it's time for bed."

Despite their protestations, the two girls retired.

October 31, 1981 – Godric's Hollow, Wales

"What the fuck?" muttered Sirius as he walked into Peter's flat. His friend was supposed to be keeping a low profile, but Sirius hadn't heard from him in a few days and had come early to check in. It was unnecessary to say that he was shocked at the state of his friend's home. It's empty, but not messy… so there wasn't a fight here. But then why would he leave?

No.

NO. Peter wouldn't… He couldn't… Peter would never betray James and Lily and Harry. No.

Sirius, shaking his head, picked up his wand and apparated to James and Lily's safe house in Wales. The sight of the demolished building brought him to his knees. Merlin, no…

"Sirius?" asked a voice from behind him. He stood up and turned to see who called him. Unexpectedly, it was the Hogwarts' groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid.

"Hagrid?" he asked, surprised. He looked at the bundle the half-giant was holding. "Harry," he whispered, tears coming into his eyes. His godson looked completely unharmed, except for a slightly bleeding cut on his forehead. Harry, who was already crying, screamed and reached for Sirius. Sirius held out his arms and took Harry from Hagrid. He held the boy close and swayed, trying to calm him.

"James and Lily?" he croaked. Hagrid told him that when he had come, he found Harry because the boy had been screaming, and then ran out of the house when it started to collapse. He hadn't seen James or Lily. "I…" Sirius had no idea what to do. He broke down, crying, and Hagrid actually picked up the twenty-one-year-old and patted him roughly on the back. Eventually, Sirius' mind cleared a little.

Remus. Remus willknow how take care of Harry… and Peter.

"I'm going to take Harry home," said Sirius.

"No, Dumbledore said—"

"I'm his godfather!" said Sirius. Why won't he just let me leave? Take my godson and grieve, find Moony and apologize, find the rat and kill him…

"Dumbledore's given me orders—"

Sirius didn't have it in him to argue anymore.

"Fine, Hagrid." He pulled out his motorbike and restored it to his normal size. "Take my bike; I don't need it anymore. I'll get Harry later, then." Numbly, he handed Harry back to Hagrid and disapparated away, already wondering how he could track Peter.

November 1, 1981 – London, England

No, no, no. Sirius wasn't supposed to be able to find me… Well, my Lord wasn't supposed to bloody die, and the mutt and his pet werewolf were supposed to be next, after the blood traitor and their mudblood wife and half-blood spawn. Merlin, a plan, I need to think of a plan…

"PETER!" shouted the desperate man's old friend. Think, think, think…

"James and Lily, Sirius!" he said, acting his first impulse. "How could you?" he shouted back. "You betrayed them! Your own godson's parents!" He slipped his hands behind his back. Okay, pull out the knife… What's that blasting spell again? Damn it!

"How dare you—"

Peter had remembered the spell and worked up enough courage to transform.

Minutes later, the Aurors had caught up with Sirius Black and led him away. Just as Albus Dumbledore had predicted, Black was clearly insane. As the soon-to-be prisoner of Azkaban laughed hysterically, Peter Pettigrew became a mourned hero, James Potter was erased, and one broken man was all that was left of the Marauders.

November 1, 1981 – London, England

Andromeda Tonks sunk into the couch cushions. Her former headmaster had just left, having decided that the death of three of her closest friends, the betrayal of another, and the whisking away of her nephew was something he should explain personally. She couldn't believe that Lily had wanted Petunia to raise Harry, but as Dumbledore pointed out, who was she to argue? If Harry wasn't with family, he could go to anyone, and there were Death Eaters that weren't known to the Ministry. Dumbledore had reassured her that there were people in place to watch the Muggles, ones that could remove Harry at the first sign of trouble.

But how am I going to tell the girls? They were so attached… Hell, they loved James and Lily more than they do me, and who can blame them? I haven't been the best mother… or any sort of mother, ever since Ted died.

Before she could wonder at how much she had failed her kids so far, the floo activated and her youngest child's godfather came out.

"Andie?" he asked.

"Hi, Kingsley," she said tearfully. "Have you heard about—?" she shook her head and answered herself. "Of course you have, you're an Auror…" He nodded.

"Have you told the girls?" he asked, looking around.

"No… not yet. I'm not really sure how, to be honest."

"Just be honest about it, I guess. Do you want me to stick around?" he offered. She asked him to, and together they attempted to explain what had happened the previous night. What they ended up with was a sobbing Dora and a screaming Nashira.

"But why can't Harry live with us?" asked Dora between sobs.

"Because it's safer at his Auntie's house, Dora," replied Andromeda.

"But—but—" Nashira looked liked she wanted to argue but wasn't sure what to say. The look on her face was familiar, as Andromeda had seen it every time Remus Lupin had calmly brought sense to the group of troublemakers he had hung out with. She looks like Sirius, thought Andromeda. She turned to say something to Dora but quickly had to do a double take on her other daughter. One of her parents as good as killed the other. And so many more people… twelve Muggles in London, and Peter, Gideon, Fabian, Marlene, Dorcas… and Ted. Oh, Merlin.

"Andie?" asked Kingsley worriedly. She hadn't spoken in a while.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. It's nothing." She went on to try and comfort Dora as Kingsley tried to do the same for Nashira. But she kept giving the younger child strange looks, and her mind was in overdrive thinking about the last twelve hours and all of the new information she had.

And though she didn't mean to and tried her hardest not to let it, over the years her attitude toward Nashira—toward the daughter of the man she considered responsible for the death of her husband—would slowly change from love to tolerance.

November 3, 1980 – Castletownroche, Ireland

Albus Dumbledore was thinking. This was not abnormal, as he often lapsed into deep thought without warning, even in the middle of staff meetings. It was his train of thought, however, that would have shocked people.

His masterfully crafted plan to give the wizarding world something to believe in (while also boosting his own popularity) was working almost perfectly. Pettigrew, the predictable little rat, had led Tom right to the Potters and Lily and James had reacted just as he had thought they would, protecting little Harry as best they could. Unfortunately, Tom had used an experimental spell on the young savior's parents. Dumbledore's spy, Severus Snape, had recently brought word that Tom's spell-crafter had created a new kind of killing curse just for the Potters. It was 'creatively' called the Painful Death Curse and had been successful against the Muggles that the spell-crafter had tested it on. Unfortunately, the spell-crafter hadn't tested it on any wizards or witches, and therefore hadn't known when he gave it to Tom that the spell was flawed.

Oh, it caused pain and grave injury, to be sure. Dumbledore had spent a great deal of time fixing up the Potters after they had been retrieved from their wrecked home. And there was the problem: James and Lily Potter had been alive after the spell was done. Apparently, when matched against a wizard's natural magical defenses, the spell did not kill. That had certainly thrown a wrench in Dumbledore's plans. James and Lily would never leave and let things progress the way he wanted them too. They were attached to their son and their friends. They would have Sirius Black freed and rescue little Harry. No, this was not good.

"But what to do?" he said out loud, looking at the two people in magically-induced comas that were lying in separate twin beds on the other side of the room. This had been his grandmother's cottage, and he was fairly sure that not even Aberforth knew that he still had it. It would have been the perfect place to get rid of the Potters, but Dumbledore didn't fancy himself a killer. Oh, he had led people to their deaths—on purpose and on accident—and he had been fully prepared to lose James and Lily on Halloween, but could he kill them himself?

"No, I don't think so," he said aloud again. "There are certain lines that a wizard shouldn't cross."

As he prepared to leave, he re-checked the spells on the Potters to make sure they wouldn't wake up any time soon. He instructed his most loyal house-elf to keep care of them (though the elf did look rather sick after he gave his orders, not that he was particularly interested in his house-elves' health), and left to help prosecute the wrongdoers of the paused war. As with most men who think of themselves as the epitome of righteousness, it never occurred to him that he was causing more damage than the criminals that he planned to imprision ever had.

Busy days full of trials, celebrations, speeches, and funerals passed. Dumbledore had installed Arabella Figg, a batty but overly trusting old woman, on Privet Drive and so far she hadn't had anything negative to report. Finally, in mid-November Dumbledore had an idea of what to do with the Potters. It all came from a fiction novel that a former student had written and sent to him.

The book was about a man who had been the victim of a poor memory charm. The caster fled in terror when the victim couldn't even remember who he was, so the man was left alone. The victim remembered how to live but now how he had lived up until that point. He started his life over, and eventually started a new family. It was only when the man's death announcement was in the paper that his first wife (who had thought the victim to be dead) came forward. There had been a suitably angst-filled confrontation and revelation. It had been a rather good book, and Dumbledore knew that with a little adaptation it could become the story of how he successfully got rid of the Potters—minus the confrontation at the end, of course. No one needed that.

He spent weeks transforming the cottage and carefully creating a new history for James and Lily. Using a combination of Legilimency and memory charms, he erased all traces of magic from their lives. This was hardest to do for James, as the man was a pureblood and had been around magic his entire life. Eventually, he finished. He took another few days to thoroughly check their minds—though their new life story was tragic, it shouldn't have memory blocks. Once he was sure that their false memories were in place, he woke them up.

And how marvelous I felt that day, he reflected. To have everything come together perfectly like that. The Potters (although now they were the Foresters) had remembered nothing, and immediately recognized him as James's 'Great Uncle Brian' (he had been sure to change into Muggle clothes before waking them). After telling them that they were in Alabama and still recovering from a recent car accident, he slyly caused them to fall unconscious again. Modifying their memories once more, he made arrangements for the final part of his plan to get James and Lily out of his way.

November 29, 1981 – Seattle, Washington, United States

James Forester, unknowing recipient of a record level of memory charms, woke up in his hotel room and looked around. He didn't see his wife, Lily, in the bed next to him, so he wandered over the bathroom. He found her putting up her red hair and looking pensive.

"Lily?" he asked, wondering why she was up so early. "Everything okay?"

"Yes, James. I'm just—I just couldn't sleep, I guess. I've been thinking about Harry," said Lily quietly.

James nodded. He too often thought of their son. The Forester family had been in a car accident in their native Wales only one month ago, and though both adults had made it out alive, Harry had not. It had been the final straw in their minds, as the Foresters had been considering moving away for a long time. After their friend Peter had died an unexpected and tragic in a bank hold-up over a year earlier, James and Lily had stayed in the UK because of their other two friends, Sirius and Remus. Soon after Peter died, Sirius's constant illness had worsened.

Sirius had been sick for years, and it was only a few months before he died that a doctor finally gave it a definite name: GRID. James hadn't been too pleased when Sirius's new doctor had seemed more excited about having another person to experiment on rather than to be able to help Sirius. Unfortunately, the trial medications that Sirius had been put on had only worsened his condition. Not six months after Peter died, Sirius followed. James had taken the death of his best mate hard, but not nearly as bad as Remus. Remus, having been Sirius' boyfriend of many years, was tested for GRID as well. He was diagnosed with the disease and the knowledge of that and the loss of his love were too much for him. Remus committed suicide three months after Sirius's death.

James and Lily had not had many close friends besides the three men, so they had already been making plans to move away from their memories before their son's death. On Halloween a drunken partygoer caused the accident that killed their son. As soon as they recovered from the accident, they left. James' great uncle Brian Forester, who was some sort of high-ranking British-American diplomat, helped make the arrangements. They had jobs and a house in a good neighborhood waiting for them, and money to go to university if they wanted to (before they moved the Foresters had foregone university to run a small shop near their home).

Bringing himself back to the present, James wrapped his arms around Lily and kissed the top of her head. "I know, Lily. I miss him too." Both were silent for a long while before starting to pack up and find their new house. The next week saw them signing up at a local community college, and in January they started classes. Slowly, they rebuilt their life.

March 13, 1983 – Near Westbury, Wiltshire, England

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked around the grounds of Abercrombie Hall, the manor house that he was currently staying at. As he sat on one of the outside benches, he let out a sigh and wondered what he was doing there. He didn't approve of Andie's new fiancé. In fact, he rather detested Everard Abercrombie. He was a slimy man that had played both sides during the war, and he knew that Everard didn't care a whit for Andie, Dora, or Nasha. The considerably older man wanted heirs, and Andromeda was young and desperate enough to have them. The marriage was also going to put her back in the good graces of her family, even if most of the good feelings were for show.

"Hello, Uncle Kingsley!" said Nashira, who was already in her green dress robes for the ceremony. Dora followed soon after and greeted him as well. "Did you bring anyone with you? Mum's been going mad because some of our new cousins are bringing dates, and I don't really know why because isn't having more people cheer you on at your wedding a good thing but Dora said that it was bad because we might run out of cake but I like cake and I just know that I'll be last in line and if we run out I won't get any just like I didn't get any cake at Mrs. Weasley's house the other day and—"

"Nasha, please calm down. Your mum will work it all out. Actually, the wedding planner will work it all out, to be honest. More people at a wedding is only good if they're people that you like, of course, and I highly doubt that you'll run out of cake. And the reason you didn't get cake at Ron's birthday was because you hit George, not because they ran out. Anything else?"

"Nope," said Nashira, not missing a beat. Dora was laughing.

"She's been cooped up in the old nursery all day," explained Dora, "and since they've not completely finished setting it up she had nothing to do get rid of some energy. A house-elf played some games with her, but…"

"Everard said that I'm 'distracting and hyperactive!'" said Nashira proudly.

"He did, did he?" asked Kingsley. If Everard was being verbally abusive…

"He wasn't mean about it," Dora added quickly.

"Yeah, well… If he ever is, just floo over to mine, yeah? Anyway, I believe that you two have a wedding to get ready for. Shall we?" he asked, standing and leading them into the house.

July 31, 1986 – Little Whinging, Surrey, England

It was Harry's sixth birthday. Mrs. Figg had given him stale cake and three books, but his uncle had laughed mightily at Harry when he'd asked if the Dursleys were going to give him anything.

"Worthless little runts don't get presents," Uncle Vernon had laughed.

I should have known better, Harry thought. They've never given me anything before, but neither had Mrs. Figg and I just thought… Oh, well. Someday someone will take me away from here. I hope it's a grandfather… or a mum. Even a step-cousin would be fine, I guess. Just someone… I hate this place.

Harry's youth passed in the same manner for the next five years—full of longing, pain, and the knowledge that he was hated.

August 31, 1988 – Near Westbury, Wiltshire, England

"But I want to go to Hogwarts tomorrow," whined a newly eleven years old Nashira Tonks. "I'm not that sick, mum!"

"You are too, young lady," replied Andromeda. "I don't know how you missed having dragon pox when Dora had it ten years ago, but getting it now is very dangerous. Your aunt is coming over later to help out, as no one here has had healer training."

"Which aunt?" asked Nashira. Please not Aunt Narcissa, please not Aunt Narcissa…

"My sister Narcissa," answered Andromeda. She looked at Nashira and sighed. Somehow the girl had caught dragon pox from Andromeda's two youngest children, Euan and Ainsley, aged four and three respectively. It was an illness that generally afflicted children five and under, which was the age Dora had been when she had experienced it ten years previous. Nashira really should have been at St. Mungo's, but there was the small problem of documentation. Any Healer worth their stuff would have known that Nashira's birth certificate was a fake, as Healers were the group of people in charge of handing them out. Andromeda really didn't feel like dealing with the fallout that public knowledge of Nashira's real parents would cause, so she planned on asking her sister for help. Narcissa had trained to be a Healer and actually worked in private practice until she had fallen pregnant with Draco.

Andromeda's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of her sister. They greeted each other, and then Andromeda pulled Narcissa aside. After casting a privacy spell around them, Andromeda finally spoke the reason why she wished for Narcissa's help and not a Healer at St. Mungo's.

"Nashira is adopted," she said. "It's not well-known, as the war was on at the time and only our circle of friends knew. Most of them are dead."

"Your point, sister?"

"Her parents are Sirius Black and Lily Potter." Narcissa gaped in a manner entirely unbecoming of a Black and a Malfoy. Calling up images of the dead woman and her imprisoned cousin in her mind, she realized that it was quite possible that the child was not magically adopted. Her appearance could support either idea, as Andie, Sirius, Regulus, and Bella have always looked like siblings. The child of one could reasonably pass for the child of another… Which is probably the case here.

"I have many questions, Andie."

"And I will answer them, Cissy, but for now I wish for you to help her get through this illness. She's just barely started showing symptoms, and I would take her to St. Mungo's, but her birth certificate is a fake and the Healers would know. I need your help and your silence."

"They would know," agreed Narcissa. "And I will help you, and keep your secret." Narcissa, ever the Slytherin, added, "but you will owe me a boon, sister."

"I will owe you a boon," acknowledged Andromeda, "and I will grant it when you ask it of me. But, for now, please tend to Nashira."

"Her illness will be highly unpleasant at best and lethal at worst," said Narcissa.

"I know," said Andromeda. Narcissa paused when she noticed that Andromeda didn't look terribly worried at either prospect. Why does she keep the girl around if she's not wanted? Surely, my sister could pawn her off on the girl's godfather, or perhaps even her dead husband's relatives… Many questions, indeed. Maybe we'll make a day of it.

Nashira was ill and bed-ridden until Christmas with dragon pox, and spent most of the spring recovering. She attended Hogwarts the next year, joined by the Weasley twins.

September 1, 1989 – Hogwarts

"So, Lee, where do you think you're going to be sorted?" Fred Weasley asked the twins' new friend, Lee Jordan. The twins, Nashira, and Lee were waiting to be sorted. Ignoring the ghosts that had just floated into the room, Lee responded.

"Well, my mum was a Hufflepuff, but I don't fancy that. Dad was in Ravenclaw, and that'd be all right, but I'd like Gryffindor if we get a choice. What about you lot?"

"Gryffindor," the twins said together. "Our whole family's been in for as long as anyone can remember." Lee looked at Nashira expectantly.

"Er… My mother and stepfather were Slytherins, but my dad was a Ravenclaw. And my sister's in Slytherin, so. That's sort of likely, I think." Nashira looked resigned.

"We'll still talk to you when no one's looking," said Fred, as though this was a very nice offer.

"Or just whenever we have something to say," corrected George, who nudged Fred with his shoulder.

"But—Slytherins—evil—" said Fred.

"Bill is dating a Slytherin. So surely it's okay if we talk to one, yeah?" asked George, making it clear that it was indeed okay, and expected besides.

"You could get sorted somewhere else," Lee pointed out. "My mum's brother was in Gryffindor even though most of her family were Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. So it's more about you than your family, I think."

"I hope," muttered Nashira. "I wouldn't want to be in the same stinkin' house that Everard and mother were in anyway."

In the end, Nashira's wishes worked out well, and the four friends were sorted into Gryffindor with Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Kenneth Towler, and Patricia Stimpson. Nashira's letter to her mother was simple, as she wrote only "Mother: I am in Gryffindor. Signed, Nashira." Her letter to her godfather was a little wordier.

Uncle Kingsley,

I'M IN GRYFFINDOR!!! Sorry that it's not Ravenclaw but I like it. Fred and George and Lee are here too. (We met Lee on the train.) Dora wasn't upset or anything but she had to give Charlie ten knuts because they bet on our houses. She guessed Slytherin for me and Charlie guessed Gryffindor for all of us. The only bad part is Percy. I could tell you about how we got him to leave us alone but I think you might tell me to stop so I won't.

Love,
Nasha

P.S. – Please tell Mr. and Mrs. Weasley ASAP. Fred and George were supposed to say it in their letter but I think they'll forget.

September 1, 1991 – Gryffindor Common Room

"Hello, Ronniekins!" shouted a jubilant Weasley twin as he walked over. Harry really couldn't tell which one it was and noticed that no else seemed to be able to either. The twins approached with two other people, a boy with dreadlocks and a girl with red hair. Another Weasley? Ron said that his sister was younger than he was, so who could that be?

"Don't call me that," muttered Ron.

"It's a term of endearment, Ron," said the red-haired girl. "You should relish it when we call you that." Ron scowled at her too. The girl smirked at Ron, then turned to Harry and spoke. "Hello, Harry." Harry didn't ask why she knew his name; everyone seemed to. The girl had a funny look in her eyes. "You probably don't remember me…" she trailed off.

"Hey, hey! He certainly didn't remember us and we were much more interesting than you back then," said Fred with a grin. "So don't be offended, Nasha." Nasha? What an odd name.

"Er, sorry?" Harry said at last.

"Oh, I wasn't looking for an apology," said Nasha. "Just to re-introduce myself. Nashira Tonks," she said sticking out her hand. "My parents knew your parents and whatnot. My sister and I used to stay at your house every day when we were young, while my mother was working." Harry shook Nashira's hand.

"Is your sister at school?"

"Nah, she graduated last year. She's in Auror training now." Harry didn't want to come off as stupid, so he didn't ask what Auror training was.

"So you knew my parents?"

"Called them aunt and uncle, I did," said Nashira. She looked sad, but Harry had a thirst for information about his parents and continued.

"What were they like?" he asked eagerly. Nashira looked surprised.

"Well—haven't you been with your aunt and uncle? I'm sure that they—"

"Told me that my parents died in a car crash? And that my dad was an unemployed drunkard and my mum was a whore?"

"What?" asked Nashira, aghast. "Well, that's—those stupid—ugh. Those filthy Muggles," she said angrily. One of the twins elbowed her and she relented. "Just them, not all Muggles. Honestly. I'm related to quite a few nice Muggles, as you well know."

"Just, you know, watch your mouth around the impressionable firsties."

"Yeah, yeah," Nashira replied. She turned back to Harry. "Anyway, Harry—basic stuff first. And you've got to remember, I was a little over four when your parents—er. Well. I was only four when you went to live with your aunt and uncle. So some stuff is from me asking Dora or Uncle Kingsley questions. Or Mr. and Mrs. Weasley because Mrs. Weasley was Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian's sister, so they knew your parents a bit as well."

"Am I related to any of them?" asked Harry eagerly.

"Not like, for real," said Nashira. "I'm not, either—well, except for Dora, of course. That's my sister. But Uncle Kingsley is my godfather, and he was my dad's best friend. So he's not my real uncle. Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian aren't my uncles either. They were Fred and George and Ron's uncles, though. Your parents knew Kingsley and Gideon and Fabian, of course, as they hung in the same group. Your mum worked for the Ministry as a—er—a researcher, that's right. And your dad was a Healer, and he apprenticed with my dad before he died. I—oh, hang on, let me go get some pictures, okay? Even I'm getting confused." Nashira ran up the girls' staircase and came back not two minutes later, holding an album and slightly out of breath. She flipped through and showed Harry a picture of many men and women and two girls, one that was a toddler and one that was about six or seven.

"Okay. That's your mum, and that's your dad," said Nashira, pointing out a man that looked almost exactly like Harry and a woman that had Harry's almond-shaped green eyes and red hair—just like Nashira's.

"She looks like you," he blurted, a bit stunned at that. If she had called his parents 'aunt and uncle' then maybe there was a connection…

"Huh? Oh, maybe a little." Nashira didn't seem overly concerned, so Harry let it go. "Anyway, that's Uncle Remus… Er, Lupin. I haven't seen him in a long time. He sort of became a recluse after Uncle James, Aunt Lily, and Uncle Peter died. That's Peter Pettigrew there—he was with your parents in Gryffindor. Same year as Remus Lupin, too. This is all according to Kingsley, mind. He was a few years ahead of your parents… And that's Aunt Alice and Uncle Frank—the Longbottoms. You've met Neville, yeah? You guys were best mates when we were young, his parents were Aurors and Aunt Lily watched him when they worked. I didn't get to see him much—at all, really—after he went to live with his grandmother. She's a bit mad, that one.

"And those are Gideon and Fabian Prewett. Don't they look like Fred and George? Anyway, Gideon's got his arm around Marlene McKinnon and Fabian's with Dorcas Meadowes. They died before you were born, I think. Uncle Gideon worked with our dads too, and Uncle Fabian was an Auror. Lots of Aurors in the group, as Uncle Kingsley is one too. Aunt Marlene was a secretary in the DMLE. I don't know what Dorcas did. She wasn't around that much, I think."

Harry was astounded. He had once known all of these people? Their pictures were smiling and joyful, not like the pictures he had seen of the Dursleys. In those images they had been stiff and appeared fake. These people—his parents and their friends—were happy. It's nice to know that they were happy.

Harry didn't ask any more questions that day, but made it a point to try and talk to Nashira about his parents, or even about stuff that she remembered from when he was young, whenever she looked approachable. He was always occupied with either homework or research about Nicolas Flamel in his first year, so he didn't get to talk to her overmuch that year. In Harry's second year, many students avoided him because they thought that he was the Heir of Slytherin. Nashira was often without things to do that year because she spent a lot of her time avoiding George Weasley's romantic attentions, which meant avoiding Fred and Lee as well. In Harry's third year, Nashira agreed to go on a date with George, telling Harry that she hoped that it would 'shut him up about the dating nonsense.' That's not quite how it worked out—Nashira came back from Hogsmeade with a bag of Fizzing Whizbees for Harry, who couldn't go, and a rather more romantic liking for George. The group of Fred, George, Lee, and Nashira was back together after that, and they started to include Angelina Johnson, Fred's girl, and Katie Bell, who fancied Lee and tagged along with Angelina. Harry tended to ignore the inner dynamics of that group, as he, Ron, and Hermione had their own issues.

Also in third year, Harry learned that Nashira had been rather skillfully avoiding talking about one of the people that was in most of the photographs that she had of his parents—Sirius Black. After hearing Cornelius Fudge, Hagrid, and Professors McGonagall and Flitwick talk about what Black had done, he confronted Nashira. When he asked why she hadn't told him, she had actually looked like she wanted to cry.

"He's my bloody cousin! And he as good as killed your parents! How do you think I felt about that? I just didn't want to talk about it, okay? And I still don't! So leave off!"

Nashira hadn't spoken to him for a while after that, but eventually they patched up their friendship. They remained friends throughout his fourth year, though he avoided her—and almost everyone else—after the events of the third task.

August 12, 1995 – The Secret Headquarters of Lord Voldemort (Location Unknown)

"The boy wasn't expelled?" hissed the newly reborn Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy had just Apparated in to report on one of his schemes to discredit Harry Potter. Malfoy had planted the idea of Dementors in Dolores Umbridge's head, and the toad-like woman had happily grasped the idea and acted on it. Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to get him expelled.

"He is still thought of as a lying, attention-craving boy, my Lord," said Malfoy, trying to save his hide. He had been so sure that the plan would work! And it would have if that Muggle-loving fool hadn't shown up.

"Ah, but according to your memory some members of the Wizengamot now know that Potter can produce a corporeal Patronus, Lucius," hissed Voldemort. "That is far from discrediting information!"

"There is still the daily slander in the Prophet," implored Lucius. "And I have information from Narcissa that could hurt Potter," he added. He didn't say that he had learned it by going through his wife's correspondence with her sister. Narcissa supported the Dark Lord as much as he did, so what was a little information stealing between spouses? Besides, it helped her when he performed his duties well.

And, really, Narcissa should have done a better job of concealing such an important missive if she hadn't wanted him to read it.

"And what is this information, Lucius?"

"Andromeda Abercrombie's second daughter from her first marriage to the mudblood Edward Tonks is adopted," said Lucius. He paused for dramatic measure—this information had shocked even he. His Lord was sure to be pleased.

"Your point?" hissed Voldemort dangerously. Right—he's not happy with me. I'd better get on with it.

"The child, called Nashira, is the daughter of Sirius Black and Lily Potter from an affair during their sixth year of school."

"As if I hadn't already known," said Voldemort dispassionately. "But do with this what you want—it can't help the boy to know that his mother was a whore. Who knows, it might even cause a rift in Dumbledore's little group… I am less displeased than before you told me, Lucius. Still, Potter got off at that trial you arranged… Crucio!"

Lucius suffered under the spell for what seemed like an eternity before his Lord lifted it.

"Let that be your lesson, Lucius. Do not fail me again."

"Yes, my Lord," said Lucius. He left and, after recovering, met with his contact at the Daily Prophet.

Next Time: An explosive newspaper article, scenes from Order headquarters, scenes from the US, and the beginning of fall term at Hogwarts.

GRID: GRID was the first name given to AIDS by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. It stood for Gay-Related Immune Deficiency. The CDC gave it this name in June of 1981 and then later renamed the disease Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS) in 1982 when they realized that almost half of the people infected with the disease were not homosexual men. This information is a summary of what I found at Wikipedia. (Also, please note that Sirius does not have AIDS in this story, but Dumbledore did his research in finding a plausible death for each of James and Lily's friends.)

A/N: I apologize for the delay! School was near ending for the quarter as I posted the first chapter, and after 11/30 I had to concentrate on finals and homework for a while.After that I ran into a problem with one of the main events in this chapter, and that wasn't resolved as quickly as I had hoped it would be. And then, well, there was Christmas and stuff, so I didn't really have the right environment to write this chapter in until recently. This chapter is actually only half-beta'd, as my good friend Sam has not had a chance to read it yet. I'll probably re-upload this when she does, but I just felt so bad about it being so long since I've posted.

Thanks to thegoodmustard for beta reading and support. Thank you also to rosiegirl and HarrySirius Fan for reviewing the first chapter, and to those who added this to their story alert lists!

This chapter's title comes from the song "All These Things That I've Done" by the Killers. I don't know them, I don't know J.K. Rowling, and I don't have any claim to any of the previously mentioned people's works.

If you have time, please review!

Thanks for reading:)

- Orion in the Sky