5 pages instead of 2, like last time. I've listened to your complaints and have delivered a longer chapter... though this one kicked my ass! I waffled alot, and must warn you, this chapter is heavy on introspection. It explains alot of things, also it reveals what Harry is going to do come Hogwarts time. It's basically what my dad said to me about College. Basically, but you'll see what I mean. (2,500 words)

anyway, hope you enjoy, Harry Potter and Tomb Raider do not belong to me, but I'm having fun twisting their realitys!

He felt like a bloody stalker.

Every time Harry would come into view his heart would race, the teacup he held would clatter gently on the lip of its plate. The woman eyeing him with clear reserve only reinforced that feeling.

Lara could only hope that this reunion was a happy one. She sighed as she glanced at the clock on the mantle, then back out the window. Harry was jumping around, dragging Neville from one side of the yard to the other. Neville, for the most part, was allowing Harry his enthusiasm by playing a meek game of follow the leader. Where Harry leaped atop topiaries and scampered across fences, Neville dogged his steps on the relative safety of the grass next to the enthusiastic boy's obstacles. Occasionally the elder of the duo (by one day), Neville, would stop and say something to Harry, which would make Harry laugh so hard he would almost loose his balance.

It was something of a game to them, which they'd been doing ever since they could remember.

Harry, as a toddler, had been prone to great feats of escapism. If Lara put him in his crib, an hour later he'd be in the kitchen, library, or one of any of the rooms in the grandiose mansion whose door had been left open. The first time Neville came for a visit was the first time Harry had stayed where he'd been put.

Lara and Mrs. Longbottom, as she still preferred to be called, put the boys down for their naps in Harry's crib. Two hours later, with not a peep being heard from them, Lara had gotten curious. She peaked her head in and after a few minutes had to duck into the hallway to allow the laughter to escape.

Harry tried to climb out of the crib. Neville pulled him back down, frowned, and shook his head. From the delighted look on Harry's face, this had been happening for a while, and he could get something else from Neville for obeying. So Harry sat down, facing Neville, and patted the older boy's nose.

Neville, an old hat at this game by now, frowned and then burped. Harry giggled and clapped his hands as bubbles emerged from Neville's mouth. He then spent the next five minutes popping the bubbles. Thus began Neville's famous attempts at distracting Harry Potter.

At the moment it seemed that Neville was rolling out his joke repertoire. Obviously it was enough to keep Harry in stitches, but Lara had to wonder how appropriate the jokes were. Harry had outgrown knock-knock jokes rather early. She shook her head to get rid of the cobwebs, and once again studied the tall, skinny man at the window.

Sirius Black looked far better than he had the last she'd seen him. His jet black hair was cut, swept away from his angular face, just brushing the tops of his shoulders. He had a few striking chunks of gray at his temples that actually looked more silver as the light hit right. His eyes were carefully wary, but not shackled, hidden away. He looked a little sad, and still a little thin for the clothing he wore. Though it was of good material, blue silk top and sturdy black trousers, they still hung a bit on his lanky frame. He was obviously building himself back up, but Lara wondered if he'd ever reach the well built and happy man in her nephew's photo album.

Remus watched both of them, well aware that next to Harry, these two were the most important people in his life. What happened this afternoon could build or break. He wasn't quite sure how to handle either side. He took a sip of tea, noted that Sirius should probably set his down before the cup broke, and turned to speak to Neville's grandmother.

Mrs. Longbottom had almost hexed Sirius as she walked into the library, then settled down with a stiff apology after recalling the Daily Prophet articles about his wrongful arrest. She'd settled down to chat with Remus, which she always enjoyed because, werewolf or not, he kept up with current issues and concerns. She was delighted that a man so many years her junior held so many of her views in the same light. She didn't get much time to chat, though, her many interests and taking care of her sons in his absence didn't give her much time to be anything but the stern matriarchal head of the Longbottom family.

She heard laughter through the window Sirius had just pushed a bit open, and smiled herself. Neville's other relatives had been merciless in trying to get the boy to spontaneously explode magic. It hadn't worked well, and she hadn't been able to get to the boy before his Uncle Algie threw him out an open third story window. When Neville bounced he congratulated himself, but then turned beet red as Neville whipped around and started swearing, lightning crackling around his palms as he forced his temper down. Augusta had been forced to temp down her own outrage and explain that Neville had been taking some classes and had a fine control of his own magic, which was the reason he never exhibited accidental magic at family gatherings.

She had Remus to thank for that, of course. Now that the boys were nearing Hogwarts age, her grandson was most likely to take to the school environment rather well, having Remus tutor him like an actual Hogwarts teacher would. In fact, the leaps that both boys had taken, before even getting their wands, had shocked her the first time she'd seen them bicker.

They were about six years old, Harry had said something insensitive, and Neville had encased the boy in a clear bubble. The outrage that Harry had felt had chilled the room, but Neville just shrugged and indicated that if Harry was at all sorry about what he'd said, the bubble would pop on it's own. Apparently it was a trick that Remus had used on Sirius quite often in their first Hogwarts years, until Sirius got better at realizing tact might be useful in some situations.

Augusta could not congratulate herself anymore at hiring Remus Lupin as a tutor if her life depended on it. Neville might be shy, not very outspoken, but he was confident in himself, and that could only help him later in life.

Of course the wicked laughter might have to be calmed a bit, she smirked as the rolling laughter outside became somewhat fiendish. The boys must be planning a prank. She was somewhat surprised when the almost anxious look on Black's face softened a bit. He was probably remembering his own maniacal laughter at pranks pulled years ago.

"Well, Lara darling, as wonderful as tea has been, I do have many things to do. Thank you for looking after Neville tonight." Augusta got to her feet and wrapped her long green coat around her shoulders, thanking Remus as he fetched her scarf and feathered hat.

"It's always a pleasure Mrs. Longbottom," Lara replied, kissing the woman's cheek. "Neville's welcome for the entire weekend if you find yourself needing a bit more time to yourself, of course."

"Thank you Lara, I just might take you up on that offer." She kissed Remus's cheek then turned to Sirius, who was watching them carefully. "Mr. Black, I hope your reunion goes well." With a stiff nod, she was away.

"What's going on?" Harry asked as Remus took Neville away for a little tutor/student chat. Lara, never one to evade an issue, pulled him to a stop outside the library.

"I know that Remus has told you a lot about your father, you know about the night Voldemort came for you, and I know that you have a lot of questions that I can't answer because I don't know." Her expression was stone, solemn but steady. Harry could almost hear the heartbeat in his chest, feel the thump, thump, as it pounded against his ribcage.

"Remus and I felt it was time, maybe past time, to fix that situation. You're a very intelligent person Harry, and I wanted to make sure you knew as much as possible before you go to Hogwarts…" she held up a hand to forestall Harry's protest. They'd gone over it many times. Harry didn't want to leave his muggle school; he didn't see any use for magic beyond the simple spells Remus had tutored him in. Everything he thought about the magical world was slightly skewed, Lara knew, from reading the Daily Prophet and then having Remus correct the articles. He didn't know how such a backwards society had managed to keep itself secret. Logic didn't seem to be a major component.

They'd fought until they were both blue in the face, but Lara was insistent. He'd go for the first year, and if he still hated it, she'd look into tutors. But he would know as much as he possibly could about using his gift. That was not an option.

She wondered, briefly, what he would be like had Sirius had the chance to introduce him into Pure Blood Society. Remus couldn't get close, and as much as Mrs. Longbottom might be willing to try, their social standing as related to each other meant nothing in the long run. It wasn't appropriate, apparently, for the mother of her nephews godmother to introduce him into a greater social standing that should have been his as inherited from his father. Lara had no clue as to why, but then again, she didn't really care either. Her own social standing was a pain in her ass, and she only used it when she needed to call in a favor from one of her fathers friends. As "Lady Croft" she often scoffed at the title, unless it could do something for her.

So it possibly was her fault that Harry found himself so blasé about his own possible power in wizarding society besides the whole, "Boy-Who-Lived" thing, which he felt was ridiculous.

But now… now he was going to take a step that she couldn't help with, and was anything other than nonchalant about. He was going to exit from the library a completely different person from the boy who stepped in.

With that thought she pulled him into a hug. Normally he'd squirm a bit, protest that he was too old for a squish hug, but this time he relaxed into her arms. Like maybe he needed that reassurance just as much as she did.
"Aunt Lara?" he asked against her shoulder, quietly, almost hesitant.

"Yes Harry?"

"Who's in the library?" his arms, if anything, got tighter around her waist. Lara's hand went to his hair, brushing it back from his forehead as she leaned over to kiss his scar, gently. He hissed a bit as he inhaled, looked up into her eyes.

"Sirius Black," Lara replied, then smirked a bit at his confusion. Remus always referred to him as Padfoot, so Harry wouldn't know. "Your godfather."

The light was low. A fire burning cheerfully in the fireplace, a few candles lit here and there, and two wing backed chairs had been pulled into the cozy nook to take every advantage of the flickering flames. All Harry could see, as he closed the door softly, were two long legs sticking out from the chair, and a thin, blue clad arm, draped negligently on the arm rest. It could have been something from a horror movie, Harry considered, if he hadn't known the library so well, if his aunt wasn't just outside the door, if he wasn't so frightfully curious. So he took a breath and moved forward, skirting around the second chair and carefully sitting without looking at the man in the first.

Instead he stared at the fireplace, and felt his godfather's eyes on him for the first time he could remember. He supposed that this man had known him as a baby, and all Remus had said was that Padfoot had to go away. He never went into details, and Harry was left with the uncomfortable feeling that something had been drastically wrong; something had forced the man to leave.

He never really thought about it, he had Lara, and Hilary, and Bryce and Remus around… what use would a godfather be? But he was aware that something was missing. He always attributed it to his parents. But he sat down, looked at the flames, and something inside of him clicked. It was like his magic suddenly relaxed, like it said, "oh, there you are, it's about damned time."

"Hello Cub," the voice was a whisper almost, hesitant and wrong with it. Harry looked up in surprise, in knowing something like that from two such normal words. His eyes flashed in the firelight, meeting gray clouds that seemed to negate such passion as a fire. There was something wrong; Harry could feel it, something that just wasn't right with the man.

Before he knew what it was he was doing he stood, walked over to the man, and sat down next to him in his big wing backed chair

"Well move over you bloody pillock," came out of his mouth. "My ass isn't that tiny!"

There was a pause, almost as if time stood still for just a second, then Sirius Black scooted his butt over, giving Harry more room. His long, spindly arm curled around the boy's shoulders and pulled him closer, and the tears that were spilling from his eyes dropped onto Harry's cheek.

"I missed you so much, so very much." the whisper was desperate, painful.

"Then why'd you leave me?" Harry asked the one question that was on his mind, all the time it seemed.

"Damn," Sirius chuckled bitterly. "Just like your mother, easy questions later, and hard, painful ones first."

"Well?" Harry insisted as he laid his head down on the bony shoulder, "And why are you so skinny? You didn't look like this in your school pictures."

"It kind of all ties in together, Cub, how about I tell you a story?"

"Is there a dragon in it?" he asked impishly. Sirius caught his breath before laughing the question off. His stories, made up and otherwise, to Harry as a child always had dragons. He would hold Harry above his head and swing the toddler around, Harry was a dragon.

Lily would scold him, saying Harry was supposed to be put down for a nap, not riled up before one.

"Would you like a dragon? I can squeeze one in if it'll help."

"Would it help?" Harry asked, frighteningly insightful.

"No." Sirius replied with a wistful sigh, settling his chin against the top of the boy's head. "It wouldn't help at all."