The first part of Sirius's trip to Privet Drive was wonderful. He'd always loved flying, especially flying fast. James had talked him into trying out for the Quidditch team in their second year, and Sirius had become enamored with the sport right away. When he was in the air, zooming so fast that the world became a blur of color, the wind moving right through him…he was able to forget all his cares.

He followed the tracks of the Hogwarts Express back towards London, flying high enough in the clouds that no Muggle who happened to see him would make out that his vehicle of choice was a suspicious flying motorbike. When he neared the city, however, it occurred to him that he couldn't just go dropping out of the sky when he reached Harry's neighborhood. If he caused a ruckus among the Muggles, those in the Ministry who still feared or disliked him would hang him out to dry.

I guess I have to do this the hard way. Sirius made sure that no non-magical creatures were in the area before carefully lowering his motorbike to the ground, resigning himself to travelling on the road for the remainder of his trip.

Whoever designed Muggle transportation should be hexed, in Sirius's opinion. The whole thing was counter-intuitive: roads, lanes, stoplights, etc. How did Muggles ever get anywhere, especially when large groups of them were going to the same place? Some Muggle-borns from his school days had complained that wizards were primitive in terms of technology, but Sirius was of the opinion that Muggle transportation was far less efficient than that of wizards.

The sun was getting lower in the sky, and Sirius estimated that it was less than two hours from sundown. Time had really gotten away from him today, and he hoped that Harry wasn't too anxious about the delay. Sirius had never specified a time for picking up his godson, but he still felt a twinge of guilt for leaving Harry with those people all day. He was certain, though, that his preparations would be well worth the wait.

Finally, Sirius turned onto Privet Drive. It was only a few blocks from where he had seen Harry last summer. The street was a row of unremarkable, boxy houses that all looked the same. The identical, posh cars in the driveways and the perfectly-manicured lawns made Sirius want to throw up. He could hardly believe that the vivacious Lily Evans Potter had a sibling who was satisfied with living in such a lifeless neighborhood. Then again, Sirius of all people knew how different siblings could be, especially when they entered adulthood and went their separate ways.

He parked his motorbike in front of 4 Privet Drive, hoping dearly that his loud vehicle had disturbed the mundane lives of the street's residents. The Dursley's house looked no different from its neighbors, and Sirius was unimpressed by the small yard size. How was a young boy supposed to have any fun in such a confined space? Though if his suspicions about these Muggles were correct, even the largest yard in the world wouldn't have made any difference in Harry's upbringing.

Sirius strode right up to the front door, pausing for a moment before knocking. He felt like a nervous schoolboy picking up his crush for their first date. He didn't have to prove anything to the Muggles, obviously, but he was still a near-stranger to his godson. Harry's first impression of him hadn't been great, so Sirius was dying for a do-over. Making sure that his robes were free of Floo powder, ash, and dirt, the gray-eyed wizard swallowed hard and rapped firmly on the door.

He heard movement from within the house, and moments later the door was opened by a middle-aged woman with graying blonde hair. Her large, horse-like front teeth immediately identified her as Petunia Dursley, Lily's older sister. Sirius had only been unfortunate enough to meet Petunia and her lard of a husband once before. James had dragged him along to the Dursleys' wedding as "moral support", and Sirius had found his best friend's soon-to-be in-laws just as distasteful as James had made them out to be: self-absorbed, self-important gits who hated anything unordinary. The thought of people like that raising his godson renewed Sirius's desire for revenge on Pettigrew. Petunia looked him up and down, her nose wrinkling in disgust as her eyes lingered on his clothing, which clearly marked him as a wizard. When her eyes came back up, she demanded in an aggravated tone, "What do you want?"

"To get my godson," Sirius replied bluntly, hoping to end this conversation as swiftly as possible so that he would not lose his temper.

Petunia paled noticeably, her eyes going wide. The disdainful look in her features was gone, replaced by fear. "Your g-godson?"

The corners of Sirius's lips turned up. So Harry had told his relatives about him. This might be simpler than he had previously anticipated. "That's right. Harry Potter, my godson. Now, I would appreciate if you let me in. I'd rather go about this the easy way, but I am more than prepared to do things the hard way if necessary." He flashed her an intimidating grin.

The blonde woman quickly swung the door open, allowing Sirius to step inside. Surveying the house's interior, he found it just as restricting and neatly prim as the outside. The revolting spotlessness reminded him of his own childhood house, and all the unpleasant memories that came along with it. But Muggles didn't have house elves, so who was keeping the house so clean, he wondered? Turning his head, he saw Petunia look both ways before closing the door, as though she suspected he had brought more wizards with him. "Where is he?" Sirius asked a bit impatiently, the sound of something loud blaring in the next room grating on his nerves.

Petunia walked to the staircase and yelled up to the second level. "Harry!" There was barely a pause after that shout was unanswered before she banged loudly several times on the newel. "HARRY!"

Sirius's eyes narrowed. Did Harry's aunt always call him that way? He hoped not. Harry was a boy, not an animal. These noisy summons seemed to have an effect though, as Sirius could hear the sounds of someone stirring on the floor above. Seconds later, a pair of footsteps trudged down the stairs. When his godson came into view, the teenager was rubbing his eyes, his dark hair sticking up every which way. It reminded Sirius of James, who could never ever get his hair to lie flat, no matter how much Muggle hair gel Lily put into it. The young wizard was looking at the ground, so Sirius didn't know if his godson had noticed him at all yet. "Harry…" he said softly.

The teenager's head shot up like a Snitch. His green eyes became large, and his mouth moved silently before he finally whispered, "Sirius." It was tentative, more like a question than a greeting, as though Harry couldn't believe that his godfather was standing there. But after blinking a few times, a huge smile lit up Harry's entire face. "Sirius!" he exclaimed, dashing down the rest of the stairs, jumping over the last four and running into Sirius's arms. His godson clung tightly to him, and Sirius wrapped his arms around Harry's back, holding the teenager close.

"What the blazes is going on here?!" an irate male's voice demanded from feet away. Both wizards ignored the question as Harry continued to bury his face in Sirius's chest.

"I missed you," he whispered, tugging at his godfather's heartstrings.

Sirius whispered in return, "I missed you more." He slowly broke the embrace and ruffled Harry's already-messy hair affectionately. The boy looked so much like James, but he had Lily's kind, intelligent eyes. "Have you got your trunk packed?"

Harry's head bounced up and down in the affirmative. "Since this morning."

Sirius bit the inside of his lip gently. He should have gotten there sooner. He returned Harry's bright smile anyway. "Should I help you grab it?"

Harry shook his head. "It will only take a minute. Be right back!" he called over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs again. Sirius chuckled. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Who the devil are you and what are you doing in my house?" Sirius now turned his attention to the entrance hall's other occupants. There was a beefy man with a moustache whose face was wildly fluctuating between purple and scarlet in color that Sirius acknowledged as Vernon Dursley. Next to him were a large blonde woman and boy, neither of whom the wizard recognized. He assumed they were also Dursleys, going by their size. The boy was probably Lily's nephew, who had been born around the same time as Harry. Sirius remembered his friend being upset at not getting an invitation to the christening. As for the woman…well, he couldn't care less who she was.

"Sirius Black," he introduced himself simply. Dursley turned sheet-white, his expression of horror mirroring his wife's. The boy looked similarly terrified. The only one who didn't react was the non-important woman. Sirius was enjoying the power his name held at this moment. "I've come to take my godson with me for the rest of the summer."

Dursley let this information sink in, then attempted to recover from his previous display of fear by covering it up with bluster. "If you want the boy so badly," he snapped, his voice and body badly shaking even as he attempted to seem intimidating, "then keep him! We certainly don't want him here!"

Sirius inhaled quickly in rage and he opened his mouth to give this boar of a man some choice words, but he was stopped by a thumping sound on the stairs. Harry had retrieved his trunk and owl and was standing near the bottom of the staircase, eyes not meeting Sirius's. His godson looked…ashamed for some reason, like he expected Sirius to side with the Dursleys. The dark-haired ex-prisoner let out his breath slowly, accepting that taking Harry away from here was currently more important than getting into a fight with these awful Muggles.

"Believe me. Nothing would make me happier." Harry looked up at that, a timid smile on his face. Sirius grinned in reassurance, not breaking eye contact with the younger wizard, even though he was speaking to someone else. "Unfortunately for us," Sirius gestured back and forth between himself and Harry, "the matter is completely out of my hands. The powers that be have decided that Harry will spend a month every year in your…" he nearly choked "…charming house for the next three summers. But rest assured, other than that month, I don't intend for Harry to ever suffer your company again."

Nameless Woman finally had the gumption to be outraged. "How dare you?! Who are you to barge into someone's home and speak like you own the place?! It figures that the boy would have a no-good, lay-about drunk like you for a godfather!" Sirius would have chuckled at that if he'd had the chance. Sure, he'd enjoyed the occasional firewhisky in his day, but he never would have classified himself as a drunk. Marlene would have killed him. Lily too, probably, for being a bad example. His mirth was cut short by the woman's next outrageous sentence. "If the boy's parents were anything like you, it's no wonder he grew up to be an ungrateful delinquent!"

Sirius's head whipped around, a murderous glint entering his eyes as the rage he had been famous for in Azkaban seized his body. He'd hex this evil balloon of a human being into oblivion for talking about the Potters that way. His hand went into his robes to retrieve his wand. Consequences be damned, he'd defend his friends.

Then he caught sight of Harry out of the corner of his gray eyes. The teenager was biting his lip in dread and looking at Sirius with a pleading expression. It was the same look Lily had used whenever she was trying to talk him and James out of something reckless. What would happen to Harry if he lost his temper? He would have to stay with the Dursleys until he tuned seventeen and would probably be punished for Sirius's outburst. And Sirius…he would be declared criminally insane and returned to Azkaban. He'd never see his godson again, and it would be all his fault because he couldn't control himself.

Reluctantly, he forced his body to relax, although his teeth remained gritted. He removed an empty hand from his pocket and pointed at the woman with a long bony finger, in lieu of his wand. "I don't know who you are, and frankly I don't care. No one insults the Potters in front of me. No one." Physical force was out of the question, but Sirius figured that threats couldn't get him in trouble. It wasn't like these Muggles would go to anyone in the wizarding world and complain. "If I ever hear such vile slander again, I will make certain that you never utter another syllable out of the gaping pie-hole you call a mouth."

It was a bluff, but the woman didn't know that. Her color changed to dark crimson, and it was plain to Sirius that he had struck a nerve. "RIPPER!" she screamed in fury. Sirius only had a moment to wonder what she was yelling about before a large, fierce-looking bulldog thundered into the hall. The woman pointed at Sirius and ordered, "Attack!"

Sirius heard Harry exhale in alarm and jump to his feet. His owl began to flap and screech like wild in her cage. They were both trying to warn the older wizard of the danger this charging, bared-teethed canine posed. Sirius smiled encouragingly and held a hand up to indicate that he had the situation under control. Slipping into the Padfoot section of his brain, Sirius commanded firmly, in his mind, Stop.

The dog ground to a halt, whipping its head from side to side, looking for the source of the order. The aggressive canine, Ripper, now looked more confused than menacing. Not finding another dog in the vicinity, he looked up into Sirius's face, preparing to resume the attack. The wizard stared steely-eyed right back. You heard me. I said stop.

Ripper sat down obediently, lowering his head in submission. Sirius was amazed at how powerful animal instincts could be, especially in regards to social hierarchy. He and James figured out in their sixth year at Hogwarts that even when they were in human form, animals of their Animagus type felt an affinity with them, and could sense that they were dominant members of their species. Not only was Padfoot big and strong enough to best Ripper physically, but Sirius exuded an aura of confidence and authority that the other dog could not ignore.

Having subdued the ferocious canine, Sirius began to ask some questions. Is this woman your master? Ripper's head bobbed up and down. Who is she? The dog's head swiveled around, his eyes darting back and forth between Vernon Dursley and the woman. Sister? Sirius deduced, and Ripper confirmed it with another nod. Has she ever ordered you to attack, the Animagus's head tilted in Harry's direction, this boy, the way she did me? The nodding came slower, more reluctantly this time. Sirius bit the inside of his lip angrily until it bled. This boy is my pup, he growled in his head. Ripper whined, as if to beg the wizard to forgive him. Wild dogs like Padfoot were notorious, even among domesticated animals, for being fiercely protective of their offspring. You will never harm my pup again, no matter what your master orders, understood? The bulldog's head bobbed furiously up and down in acknowledgment, and Sirius was satisfied. He knelt down and pet the dog's head. "Good boy." He reached into another of his robe's pockets, producing a bit of jerky he had been saving for the ride back. He fed it to the bulldog, who was wary at first but then gobbled the meat up greedily. "Run along now." Ripper was only too happy to oblige.

Sirius stood, brushing imaginary dirt off of himself. The entire Dursley clan was dumbfounded; even Dursley's sister's eyes betrayed a glimmer of panic. The wizard grinned broadly at the group. "We'll be off now. I shall see you next year, at which time I expect to hear what a wonderful summer Harry spent with you." His cordial tone was laced with a silent threat that sent a shudder through each of the Dursleys in turn like a wave. Sirius walked to the stair landing and grabbed the handle of Harry's trunk, slinging his other arm around his godson's shoulders as they walked from the house together, slamming the door firmly behind them.

"That…that was brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.

Sirius smirked. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I thought you deserved at least one decent memory of this wretched place." The dark-haired man lugged his godson's trunk after him, wondering why it was so heavy. Then, like a genius, he remembered that Harry was an underage wizard living with Muggles. Casting a feather-light charm on his trunk was out of the question.

"How did you do it?" Harry asked. "Stop Ripper from attacking you, I mean."

Sirius winked at his godson. "One of the many benefits of being an Animagus."

Harry's eyes widened in admiration. "Could you teach me to become one?"

The Azkaban survivor gave a barking laugh. "The Marauders were fifteen before we figured it out. But you are so intelligent and you have such a brilliant teacher that I'm certain you could learn. I'll speak to Dumbledore about it."

The green-eyed teenager looked thrilled at this news. "So, how are we travelling?"

Sirius brought Harry and his trunk over to his parked motorbike. "We'll be riding in style."

Harry's expression became very thoughtful. His brow furrowed and his nose scrunched up, like he was trying to remember something. "Sirius," he said slowly, "your motorbike…doesn't fly, by chance?"

A grin spread from ear to ear on the gray-eyed wizard's face. "Remember that, do you?"

"I used to have dreams about a flying motorbike all the time." Harry reached out to touch the handlebars, convincing himself that the vehicle was real. "Uncle Vernon said I was crazy; that there was no such thing."

"Well your uncle is as daft as a pile of rocks," Sirius replied, prompting his godson's smile to return. "Now, would you like to ride in the sidecar, or on the bike with me?"

"With you," came the immediate answer.

Sirius's heart sped up a bit, elated that Harry was taking to him so quickly. How could he have been absent for so many years of this boy's life? He needed a parent and a mentor; someone who would take care of him, teach him, and encourage him. I really messed things up, Prongs. I'm so sorry. I'll make up for it, I promise. "Excellent choice. Much more fun up there anyway. We'll put your trunk in the sidecar, then. Why don't you set your owl free?" He picked up Harry's luggage—which really wasn't that heavy when he considered his godson's entire life was in there—and placed it in the sidecar. Harry released his snowy white owl and she perched happily on his arm, stretching her wings. Sirius took the empty cage and placed it in the car alongside Harry's trunk. Taking out his wand, Sirius looked both ways before whispering "Epoximise", ensuring that the luggage wouldn't fall from the car while they were driving.

Straddling the bike, Sirius positioned himself on the very front of the seat, patting the space behind him. Harry climbed on board, sitting right where Sirius had gestured to. "Let your owl go. She's smart enough to follow us." Harry nodded and lightly bounced his arm, signaling the white owl to fly off. She did so, carefully circling the bike in anticipation. "Now hold on tightly to me," the older wizard instructed. Two hands placed themselves, uncertain, at his sides. Gently, Sirius reached down and put his hands on Harry's, confirming that this was indeed all right, and moved the smaller hands around his waist to meet each other just below his ribcage. "Tightly," he repeated, and Harry linked his hands together, firmly anchoring himself to his godfather.

Sirius stepped on the kickstart and purposefully revved the engine several times, resulting in shouts of protest from various houses on the street. Turning his head, Sirius winked at Harry. "The most excitement these dull busybodies have had in years." His joke elicited a light-hearted, happy laugh from his godson that made the dark-haired wizard feel warm again, melting away the frigid years of Azkaban and Dementors from his heart. The motorbike and its two passengers sped off with Harry's owl in tow. Sirius was no longer worried about the Muggle police catching him; he had his godson and they were going home. The young wizard in question was cheering in exhilaration, urging his godfather to go faster. Sirius duly complied, taking roads that looked emptier and dodging any vehicles they did confront with all the ease of a former Quidditch player.

They rode this way for a long time, until their path veered away from the city. When the bike began to leave the ground, Harry's enthusiastic shouts became even louder. Sirius flew high and fast, doing flips, dives, and various tricks to entertain his godson. Needless to say, the Gryffindor Seeker seemed to be getting a kick out of this. He laughed so hard and loud that Sirius was surprised the whole world couldn't hear. The two wizards flew for about an hour before the motorbike began to descend, slowing down as it neared the skyline.

"Are we nearly there?" Harry asked, squeezing his arms around Sirius's midsection.

The dark-haired man nodded, pulling a slip of parchment out of his robes, holding it up to Harry's eye level. "I need you to memorize this." He held the parchment up for several moments. "Have you got it?" Harry nodded. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm sure."

Sirius motioned for the owl flying beside them to come over. He showed the paper to her, and after looking at it for a few seconds, she nodded to show she understood. Sirius crumbled up the parchment into a tiny ball and swallowed it. "That is the address to our new house. You must not reveal it to anyone, understand?" Harry nodded again, just as the motorbike touched down in a large, green field dotted with trees. The evening wind blew through the grass and the leaves of the trees, the twilight sun dancing on the wildflowers and a small stream nearby.

Harry let out a long breath and beamed at Sirius as he climbed off of the bike. "That was brilliant!"

"You used to love it as a baby," Sirius remarked, following suit. Harry cocked his head at his godfather curiously, and the gray-eyed wizard elaborated. "I used to take you on rides when you were fussy or right before bedtime. Lily didn't approve—said that a motorbike was too dangerous—but some nights, the only thing that could get you to sleep was driving through the stars with me."

Harry's eyes filled with wonder and a hint of sadness. "So that's why I dreamed about it? It's a memory from when I was little?"

"Most likely," Sirius agreed. "Though your dream is probably about the night Hagrid took you to live with the Muggles. I leant him my bike…I hoped it would calm you down a bit." It was his turn to look sad, remembering the night he'd parted with two of his most precious things. But there was no time for wallowing in self-pity now. "This little beauty took you to Privet Drive years ago, and now it's taken you away, to your new home."

Harry beamed and looked around them expectantly. The meadow was lovely, but appeared empty to him. After scanning the area, those green eyes looked back at Sirius, confused. The older wizard chuckled. "Remember what was written on the parchment?" Harry nodded. "I need you to picture it in your mind."

Harry closed his eyes tightly and pursed his lips, trying hard. When he opened them, his mouth dropped open. Sirius grinned; Harry could see it now. In the middle of the field, there was a sprawling cottage. The exterior strongly resembled the Potter Cottage, but it was much more sizable than Harry's childhood home. Sirius reached over and poked his godson, who was still gaping like a fish. He started noticeably at the unexpected contact, and whipped his head around to stare at his godfather. A sly smile grew across Sirius's face. "Race you to the front door." He took off running, and Harry jolted out of his stupor and chased his godfather, not far behind. Sirius had a head-start, but Harry was in better shape, so they ended up slamming their palms against the front door at the same time. "I let you tie with me," Sirius insisted.

"Sure you did," Harry grinned in return, rolling his eyes teasingly. Sirius retrieved his wand and used it to unlock the door, pushing it open so that Harry could step inside.

The front room was large and open, giving a full view of the rest of the main floor. There were windows everywhere to let in the sunlight. The décor wasn't anything rich or fancy, but it was warm and inviting. Once again, Sirius had tried to reproduce his memories of the Potter Cottage. He looked sideways at Harry to gauge his godson's first impression of the house. The young wizard's green eyes looked ready to pop out of his head. After a moment, he laughed. "It's gigantic! The Dursley's entire first floor could fit in this room alone!"

"Do you like it?" Sirius asked anxiously.

"I love it!" Harry broke from Sirius's side to explore the room, looking at the furniture and the pictures on the walls and peering into the other rooms. He noticed that his godson didn't touch anything, though that was understandable. Harry needed to feel more comfortable with the house first. Sirius knew what might help. "Do you want to see your room?"

Harry spun around sharply, staring at Sirius like he'd lost his mind. "My…my room?"

The disbelief in Harry's voice troubled the Azkaban escapee. Why would something as simple as a bedroom seem so surprising? Maybe Harry and his cousin had shared a room and this was the first time he'd have one to himself? Maybe… Sirius masked his concerns with a gentle smile, and gestured with his head for his godson to follow him up the stairs.

The very first door on the second floor was Harry's bedroom. Sirius's stomach started to do flip-flops. He was more nervous about this moment then he'd been about anything else in his entire life, and there was no going back now. The two of them stood at the door for a for a minute or so before Sirius motioned with his hand. "Go on, then. It's yours, after all." Harry reached out and gripped the doorknob, turning it slowly and making his way inside the bedroom. Sirius remained in the doorway as Harry entered, watching his godson walk to the middle of the room and look around.

The room was decorated in Gryffindor red and gold. There was a large four poster bed, a mahogany desk and wardrobe, an area for Harry's broom and school trunk, a couch, a round tea table, and several of those Muggle beanbag chairs that James had always fancied. The door to the adjoining bathroom was open, showing it to also be Gryffindor themed, right down to the lion's-head faucet in the soaker tub. The walls of Harry's bedroom were covered with Gryffindor banners, Quidditch posters, and every picture of the Potter family and Harry's school friends that Sirius and Remus had been able to get their hands on.

The silence seemed to stretch on for ages, and every second that Harry didn't react made Sirius's fear grow. What if his godson hated it? What if it made him sad? Would he cry or would he pretend to like the room, just to spare his guardian's feelings? Finally, Sirius heard a soft sound: Harry's breathing hitching. The older wizard's heart sank. Harry was crying. He had to do something to fix this, right away. "Harry, don't worry. We can change…"

Harry turned around, looking at his godfather with teary eyes. "Is this…is this really all for me?" Sirius nodded sheepishly, preparing to apologize profusely when the dark-haired teenager exclaimed, "It's wonderful! Wonderful! It's the best room ever! It's so big!" The energy he had pent up standing in the center of the room broke loose and Harry seemed to lose his shyness all at once. He jumped on the bed, sat at the desk, opened the wardrobe, bounced on the couch and the beanbag chairs, and explored the bathroom, laughing happily all the while. When he'd seen the whole thing, he returned to the middle of the room and spun around in a circle. "I always dreamed of a room like this." He stopped, facing Sirius, and ran to give his godfather another hug. "Thank you, Sirius! Thank you!"

The dark-haired wizard, who was getting more used to hugs every time he received one, held Harry closely, with one hand on his godson's back on the other on the nape of Harry's neck. He swallowed the lump in his throat and croaked, "You're welcome." He was so happy, so very happy that Harry liked his bedroom. So happy that Harry had wanted to come live with him in the first place. Sirius wanted his precious godson to always be smiling and laughing for joy, just like this. "You haven't even opened your actual present yet."

Harry looked at Sirius curiously, then turned back towards the desk, his eyes landing on the badly-wrapped package sitting there. He broke their embrace carefully and walked back to the desk; Sirius followed a bit behind. Harry picked up the gift and looked at Sirius, as if to ask permission. His godfather thought this was a bit odd—what teenager waited for a go-ahead to open their own gift?—but nodded in approval. Harry carefully unwrapped the paper to reveal a green box. Setting the paper aside, Harry slowly opened the box and took out the object resting inside. It was a glass ball, a little smaller than a Bludger. The green-eyed wizard studied it, confused, before turning to Sirius. "You gave me a crystal ball?"

Sirius gave a loud, barking laugh. His present did indeed look like a divination device, although it was smaller. He shook his head in response to Harry's befuddled expression. "Shake it." Harry did so, and colors started to swirl within the glass until they settled into an image. The present Sirius had bought for his godson worked on the same principle as a Pensieve, except it could only store and display a single memory. It was a sentimental trinket, used mostly for remembering milestones like graduations or weddings.

The memory Sirius had chosen was of the last time he'd visited the Potters. Inside the ball, in miniature, was the Potter Cottage. One-year-old Harry was flying on the broomstick Sirius had given him as a birthday gift, and James and Sirius were chasing him around the yard, laughing. Lily came out of the house at one point to call them into dinner, and when she was ignored she joined in the chase, throwing innocent jinxes at Sirius until he produced water balloons and began pelting her with them. Harry and Sirius watched the scene play out to the end, when four soaking wet and laughing wizards went inside the house for dinner. The image faded and the glass cleared again. "You can replay it whenever you want," Sirius assured his godson. "The memory is protected in that glass; it will never fade or dim."

Harry hugged the ball to his chest and carefully set it back on the desk. "It's perfect. Everything is. I don't know how to thank you."

"Hmm," mused Sirius teasingly. "Maybe something along the lines of, 'Geez Sirius, you're the best godfather a wizard could ever have.'" Sirius interrupted when Harry opened his mouth to repeat the offhand remark. "I'm just joking, Harry. I was pleased to do this for you. It was well worth it to see you smiling." He reached over and ruffled his godson's hair again. "We've got a whole big house to explore later, but there's something else I wanted you to see before the sun goes down."

"Something else?" Harry asked incredulously. "What could be better than this?"

"You'll see," Sirius winked, taking Harry by the arm and leading him downstairs. When they were in the main room again, the dark-haired wizard moved behind his godson and covered his eyes with his hands. "All right, I'm going to guide you. No peaking." Harry relaxed, and Sirius took this to mean the teenager trusted him. He guided his charge through the house to the glass doors which led to the backyard. Sirius whispered "Alohamora" and the doors slid open, allowing the two wizards to walk onto the wooden deck outside. Taking a deep breath, Sirius removed his hands slowly. "Have a look."

Harry gasped loudly, his eyes flitting around like crazy, taking in every inch of the sight before him. "It's…it's…" he stuttered in surprise.

"…a miniature Quidditch pitch," Sirius supplied helpfully. "It wouldn't do for Gryffindor's champion Seeker to be out of practice during the summer. Plus, I figured that you and your friends could play when they come to visit…" He was cut off by the sight of tears running down his godson's cheeks. "Harry? What's the matter?" Sirius bent down and swiped the tears away with his thumb.

"You're crazy…"

"So I've been told."

Harry smiled in wonder. "You mean it? I can practice Quidditch? I can invite my friends over?"

Sirius smothered his anger at the Dursleys, focusing on Harry's elation. "Of course!"

"Now this house really can't get any better!" Harry's smile did this queer thing where it trembled at the edges, and Sirius realized that his godson wanted to ask him something.

"What is it?" Sirius prompted.

"Well, I just wondered…I mean…I don't know if you even play Quidditch. But maybe you'd want to…I don't know…practice with me sometimes?"

Another barking laugh from the Animagus. "Harry, I would love to play Quidditch with you. I may not look it now, but I was a decent Beater back in my day."

"Really?" Harry looked very interested in this piece of information.

Sirius nodded. "Your father talked me into it. He didn't want to be on the team alone. Remus was too bookish and dignified for Quidditch and Pettigrew…" his expression soured and he forced himself to leave that line of conversation alone. "Anyway, I was the only one he could persuade to try out. And miracle of miracles, we were actually pretty good at Quidditch, so McGonagall made me a Beater and James a Chaser. She said it was the only thing our hyperactivity was good for." Harry laughed, the sound that Sirius was coming to love more than any other. "Anyway, it's getting dark out. We can play tomorrow."

He gestured for Harry to come back inside, and he closed the glass doors firmly behind them. "Have you had dinner yet?" Harry shook his head. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Why don't we head to the dining room?" Sirius pointed the way and the two wizards walked in that direction, Sirius walking just barely behind Harry now. When they entered the dining room, Harry's green eyes got large again. A feast fit for a king was spread out all over the table; there were dishes of all kinds, all looking fresh and ready to be eaten.

"Did you…make all this?" the gaping teenager asked.

Sirius beamed proudly. "All from scratch. And no magic was involved, except the charm I used to keep everything warm."

Harry laughed, not his normal laugh this time, but something sadder, in a way. "I'm such an idiot."

"What do you mean?" Sirius inquired, raising an eyebrow in confusion

"This," Harry gestured to the table, "is what you were doing all day. The house and my present and dinner…I'm such an idiot." The dark-haired boy adjusted his glasses awkwardly. "When you didn't show right away, I thought you'd changed your mind about having me live with you."

"Changed my…" Sirius was completely bewildered. "Oh Harry…" he whispered softly. He put his hands on either side of his godson's face. "Harry." When the teenager didn't look up, Sirius spoke more firmly. "Harry James Potter, look at me." The green eyes slowly moved upwards to meet Sirius's gray ones. Swallowing deeply, the older wizard spoke. "I don't expect you to tell me about your life with the Dursleys all at once. In fact, there are some things you may never feel comfortable telling me, and I can understand that." There were plenty of things that Sirius didn't want Harry knowing about the Black family, after all. He wanted his godson to remain completely untouched by his parents' wickedness. "But there is something I need you to understand. I am not the Dursleys. I would never leave you alone, Harry. No matter what happens from now on, no matter where you are…it doesn't matter what I have to do. I will come for you."

Harry's eyes lit up with understanding and a slow smile, brighter than the sun, grew on his face. He nodded slowly. "Thank you Sirius."

"Don't mention it, kiddo." Sirius flicked Harry's forehead affectionately and pulled out a chair for him. "Now let's sit and eat before our meal gets up and walks away."

The two wizards had quite the feast, eating until they were nearly stuffed to the brim. Harry tried a bit of everything, even the dishes that were unfamiliar to him, and devoured it all with pleasure. Sirius was grateful that his godson wasn't a picky eater. There was something about Harry's eating that worried him, though. He didn't eat like a normal teenager, or like someone enjoying delicious food after a long day. Harry was eating like a starving person, and Sirius Black had more than enough experience with what that looked like. He thought back to Harry's whale-like relatives—particularly his cousin, who looked plump enough for the slaughterhouse—and compared their appearance with Harry's. Genetics might be playing a role, as Lily and Petunia were a normal weight, but genetics certainly didn't explain the way Harry's hip and rib bones had rubbed uncomfortably against Sirius's back during their trip. And when the two of them embraced, the young wizard had seemed so frail and…malnourished. Sirius gripped his silverware tightly. Surely the Dursleys hadn't been…starving his godson? They were thoroughly unpleasant people, some of the most distasteful Muggles that Sirius had ever met, but Dumbledore wouldn't have left Harry in an abusive household, would he? He wouldn't ask, not tonight at least. He didn't want to spoil this evening with talk of the Dursleys.

They ate mostly in silence, content to enjoy the food and each other's company. Every once in a while, Harry would comment on how delicious the food was or ask Sirius to identify a particular dish. Sirius in return provided a few anecdotes: the time the Marauders had turned the school's water supply into Bouillabaisse, or how Lily had been obsessed with steak and kidney pie while pregnant with Harry. His quirky stories made Harry laugh, and being able to talk with his godson about James and Lily took some of the sting away from those memories.

When the eating became slow, and it was clear they wouldn't be able to stomach much more, Sirius excused himself from the table, returning with his cake. "You still have room for dessert?"

"Is that a trick question?" Harry asked, grinning cheekily.

Sirius smiled and set the dessert down on the table, picking up a knife and a dessert plate. With precision, he cut the cake into quarters and dished one of the four slices onto the plate. He passed it to Harry with a grin. "Eat as much as you like." Harry dug into the cake with enthusiasm. Sirius took a slice for himself and followed suit. All those years with the Dementors had really left him craving chocolate.

"You really made this?" Harry asked after swallowing the first bite. "It's the best cake I've ever had!"

"Your parents agreed with you," Sirius chuckled. "And Remus. And don't even get me started on Dumbledore. Stalked me for weeks after he found out I could bake."

"I'm not joking Sirius. This really is fantastic."

The dark-haired wizard gave an elegant bow. "Well thank you. Glad to know my skills haven't deteriorated."

They enjoyed the cake together, and when Sirius finished his slice, he looked up to see Harry's head bobbing up and down. "Looks like someone has had quite enough excitement for one day," he chuckled. Standing, he went to Harry's side and helped his godson up from his seat. "Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

"But…shouldn't I help clean up dinner?" Harry asked drowsily.

"Absolutely not," came Sirius's blunt reply. "The last thing we need is you falling asleep in the Yorkshire pudding." He took Harry's arm and guided him upstairs to his bedroom. Sirius turned down Harry's bed while his godson changed in the bathroom. When Harry returned, Sirius aided him into the bed and tucked him in snuggly, like he used to do when the teenager had been a baby. "Now, if you need anything, my room is across the hall from yours."

Harry nodded groggily, nearly asleep. "G'night Sirius."

"Goodnight, Harry." Sirius quietly crept to the door, putting out all the lights. He looked back at his godson—safe and comfortable in his bed—once more before closing the door, and whispered, "Welcome home."

A/N: Super long chapter to thank you guys for all the support! I'm absolutely ecstatic at the response this fic has gotten. I hope this installment didn't disappoint; it was the chapter I wanted to write from the very beginning.

A shout out to everyone who has favorited or followed this story. Thank you for your continued interest! A special thanks to Commander Riker, zha'aiacole, Lupinescence, Rosie Nabokov, Alexis, Guest #2, Actual Weeb, and Renegade for their wonderful reviews. The super speedy update is dedicated to you. An extra special thank you to Guest #1, whose comments helped me to improve Chapter 2. You are excellent!

Please continue to review. All constructive criticism, suggestions, and feedback are welcome.

Next time—Harry cooks breakfast for Sirius, a discussion about the Dursleys and a certain tournament ensues, and godson and godfather play Quidditch. See you then!