Author's Note: Hello! A belated Merry Christmas and Happy Hogmanay to you all!

Many apologies for the two month intermission, but Christmas got in the way.

Read and review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

"Harry" -Speech

'Ginny' -Thoughts

/Bill\ -Foreign/Non-human Language

Chapter 6: Blackout

Sirius Orion Black the Third was absolutely furious. This was not an unknown state of being for him. He was famous -one might even say infamous- for his rash nature and reckless behaviour, as well as for having a temper that went off as soon as one of five or six people was either threatened or impugned.

Remus John Lupin. His old friend Moony.

James Charlus Potter. His departed best mate Prongs.

Peter Theodore Pettigrew. The traitorous bastard Wormtail.

Marlene McKinnon. His girlfriend, right up until those Death Eater bastards killed her.

Lily Marie Potter. A very, very scary woman.

Finally, Harry James Potter. Prongslet. His Godson.

All but three people on that list were dead. Moony thought he had put two of them in the ground and Merlin only knew what Harry knew or thought about him.

And now he had just found out that Wormtail was the pet of the Weasley family. Of the boy whose shoulder he was riding on, he would guess. He perused the article for any clues.

'…Arthur Weasley, pictured here with his large family. His wife, Molly, along with five of their seven children. Percy Ignatius (17), Frederick Gideon (15), George Fabian (15), Ronald Bilius (13) and Ginevra Molly (12). All children pictured currently attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and are all members of Gryffindor House, with the youngest, Ronald, sharing a dorm with the Boy-Who-Lived…'

"Merlin's Balls!" Sirius whispered in shock, "Wormtail, you sneaky, conniving, cunning bastard!"

The little traitor had deliberately taken refuge in his rat Animagus form and had managed to ensconce himself with a Wizarding family -one close to Dumbledore even! - so he could keep an ear to the ground, so that when the murmurs of the Dark side rising reached him, he could do the only thing that might appease his old master if it was him or bribe his way into any new Dark Lord's favour.

Deliver Harry to them on a silver platter.

Sirius bared his teeth in a silent snarl of defiance. Never. Not as long as he still had life in his body. The bastard who betrayed his parents would not harm Harry.

A fire was lit within him, a fire that had guttered out when James and Lily were murdered. It wasn't a positive emotion, so the Dementors, when they stationed themselves outside his cell again, couldn't suck it out of him.

The flame burned brightly, chasing away the sluggishness that over a decade in Azkaban had bestowed upon his mind. He could see clearly, think clearly, for the first time in almost thirteen years.

Sirius carefully ripped the photo of the Weasley Family from the Daily Prophet and tucked it away into his tattered robes. He knew that the human guards would take the paper away from him as soon as they knew he had it, just to spite him.

The gaunt man settled back onto his pathetic excuse for a bed and began to drift off into sleep. He would begin to plan his escape when he woke up. He ignored the fact that no one had ever broken out of Azkaban before. He ignored that once he left the prison, he was in the middle of the North Sea. He even ignored the fact he didn't know where Wormtail would be once he escaped.

None of that mattered. He would escape. He would catch the rat. He would clear his name and he would protect Harry.

That purpose was all he had left.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Two Days Later

Guesthouse Dining Room, Place of the Magicians, Cairo, Egypt

"Mother? What is the reason we have been called to the Embassy?" Percy Weasley asked in his usual pompous voice.

"I don't know dear." Molly sounded fraught as she walked up and down the table, serving breakfast to her children.

"From what I've been able to gather, we aren't in trouble." Arthur said from the head, "It looks like someone has asked to meet with us and as they are on a tight schedule, we have to go to them."

"I am glad it isn't because of Fred and George's childish behaviour." Percy remarked snootily, looking down his nose at his younger brothers.

"Now Percy old chap-" Fred started.

"-that's not really fair to say, wouldn't you agree, brother mine?" continued George.

"Quite so, old bean." Fred agreed, "I mean, we haven't pulled a prank on any of the lovely people of Cairo-"

"-or indeed anybody at all since we arrive here." George finished.

"Oh? Then why did beetles appear in my soup last night?" Percy asked meaningfully.

"You're family, Percy-," George said bluntly.

"-you don't count." Fred finished.

Percy began to turn a shade of puce that wouldn't look out of place on Harry's Uncle Vernon.

"Boys!" Molly scolded as she waved a wooden spoon in the twins' general direction, making the two cower away from her…well, pretended cower anyway.

Percy looked smug, before his mother rounded on him.

"And don't think you are getting off scot-free, young man!" Molly told him sternly, "Of age or not, I'll put you across my lap and spank you if you don't stop trying to put airs about yourself and verbally bullying your brothers!"

"Mother, I-" Percy tried to say.

"Enough, Percy!" Molly said firmly, making the pompous boy snap his mouth shut in shock.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, the Weasley Matriarch continued, "I would have thought that this year, what with Ginny's…incident…you would have realised that family is the most important thing in the world. I can see now that you don't."

"Molly." Arthur said mildly.

With a sigh, Molly gave Percy one last look of disappointment before heading back to her seat.

After the family finished their meal, they all trooped over to the British Magical Embassy, a stately building that was built hundreds of years ago.

"Yes?" the receptionist asked as he looked up from the bookwork he was working on.

"I'm Arthur Weasley, I believe my family and I have an appointment with…someone." Mr Weasley said politely.

"Ah yes." the man nodded, "Follow me."

The man led the Weasley's to a conference room where the lone occupant looked up in surprise to see them.

"Bill?" Ginny said in amazement, "I thought you had to go to The Valley of the Kings today?"

"So did I." Bill replied. His long ponytail and dragon fang earring made Mrs Weasley 'tsk, tsk' under her breath, "I got called here before I could leave though. Any idea what this is all about?"

"None." Arthur replied, a small smile on his face at the sight of his eldest son.

"I would have thought you'd leave Ron and Ginny behind at least." Bill remarked.

"Molly wanted to do that at first, but the letter we received specifically requested that they be brought along." Arthur told him, sounding slightly bemused at such a thing.

"Allow me to shed some light upon the situation." a familiar voice said jovially. The Weasley's turned around to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway, beaming happily at them.

"Albus?" Molly asked in shock.

"Indeed." Dumbledore replied happily, as he strode into the room, "I must congratulate you on winning the Prize Draw, Arthur. Most of the time it goes to the Flints and Malfoys."

"Luck of the draw, Albus." Arthur blushed at the congratulations from the venerable wizard.

"William, it has been too long, my boy!" the Headmaster moved on to Bill, "How's the job treating you?"

"Good. Really, really good." Bill replied, "I'm constantly challenged to become better at my Curse-Breaking skills."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore beamed again, "Now then, my return Portkey is in about an hour, so we must get on with business. Please, have a seat."

Once the Weasley's had sat down and Dumbledore had conjured a squashy armchair for himself, Arthur spoke up.

"So then Albus, what brings you to Egypt just a few days before we are due to return to Britain?"

"Ah, well." Dumbledore looked uncomfortable for a second, "To start with, might I enquire as to whether your three sons who rescued Harry from his relatives informed you of his living situation?"

"Well, they did spin a tale about bars on his windows, a locked door and starving him, but I didn't believe them." Molly replied firmly.

"Alas, I am afraid all that they told you was nothing more or less than the truth." Dumbledore said sadly, "A House Elf mimicked his magical signature and made him receive a warning from the Improper Use of Magic Office. This in turn caused the Dursley family to essentially make Harry a prisoner in his own room."

The shocked silence lasted only a second as Molly Weasley, a tear falling from her eyes, turned to her children and uttered two words.

"I'm sorry."

This shocked the younger Weasley children. They had never heard their mother apologise to them for anything serious, mostly because she had been in the right in anything serious.

Turning back to Dumbledore, Molly's eyes became as hard as flint and her voice, when she spoke, could have frozen a woolly mammoth in its tracks.

"I hope, Albus, that you removed Harry from those…peoples…so-called 'care' as soon as you found out about this?"

"Molly, Harry must live with people where the blood of his mother flows." Dumbledore replied implacably, "I honestly wish that I could remove him, but he must remain with them."

Seeing that the Weasley Matriarch was about to deliver a Howler-volume denunciation of him from less than a few feet away, Dumbledore hastily continued what he was saying.

"However, I have made it absolutely clear to the Dursley's that any further treatment of Harry such as he has already endured will result in his removal from their care and their relocation to Azkaban."

Molly let out a huff of satisfaction.

"What kind of charm did you cast that requires Harry Potter to live with his Aunt?" Bill asked curiously.

"The Bond of Blood Charm." Dumbledore replied, "While he lives with Petunia Dursley, Voldemort -or indeed, any who seek to do him harm- cannot so much as touch him."

"That…that's borderline genius!" Bill said in amazement, his eyes distant as he contemplated the spell that Dumbledore had cast.

"What do you mean, Bill?" Ron asked curiously.

"The Bond of Blood Charm is a very old, very complicated charm that no one has used in centuries." Bill replied, "No one with any kind of ill-intent towards Harry can even go near the location that he lives as long as 1) he calls where he lives his home and 2) he lives with at least one person who shares blood with him and a person related to him who was murdered, in this case his Aunt, who was his mother's sister. The protection is more absolute than anything made in the last couple of hundred years. Most people don't even know it exists because it fell out of favour because it could only be used once an immediate family member had been murdered."

"An excellent explanation, William." Dumbledore nodded at the Curse-Breaker, "And now we move to the reason I am here, Molly, Arthur. When your sons rescued Harry from his relatives, he had been locked up for three days, with very little food and water. Had the state of affairs continued, he might have starved to death."

"Arthur and I were getting worried by him not responding to Ron's letters and were going to go and fetch him at the weekend anyway Albus; my sons acted hastily, but we would have gotten him out of that house regardless." Molly replied sending a pointed look at Fred, George and Ron.

The three boys merely looked stubborn, as their worries had been vindicated by the Headmaster's information. The Twins were planning to get revenge on the Dursley's for treating Harry like that, and Ron was still unable to believe that Harry had been starved. He couldn't imagine not being fed by his family. His mother considered an unfed child an oxymoron of the worst sort and sought to prove it so by feeding every child within reach as much as they could eat.

Dumbledore merely nodded. "Be as that may, the fact is that Harry feels indebted to you and, with his status as the sole remaining Potter and the soon-to-be head of another two families, he is obligated to owe a Debt to the Weasley Family."

The elder Weasleys gasped in shock, while those younger than Bill just looked confused, which Dumbledore noted.

"I can see that you haven't taught your children that particular section of Pureblood traditions." he noted with a slight tone of disappointment.

"We are Blood Traitors, Albus." Molly replied, a little defensive heat in her voice, "Most Purebloods who follow the Blood Purity cause ostracise us and despise us, especially since Arthur's grandfather lost the Weasley's Wizengamot seat."

"So you decided not to play the Blood Supremacists at their own game when it came to your own children." Dumbledore theorised, knowing it was true when Molly and Arthur ducked their heads embarrassedly.

He sighed, "I can understand where you are coming from, but in this case, you have done your children a most severe disservice. By being unaware of Pureblood traditions, you leave them open to manipulations and schemes by other Purebloods."

The two elder Weasleys looked uncomfortable at this. Dumbledore sighed again before turning to the rest of the confused Weasley family.

"I see that I'll have to give you all an explanation before I move on." he said as he bridged his fingers together, "Magic is a truly wonderful thing really, but, occasionally, wizards and witches make odd traditions that the living force of magic chooses to enforce. Debts are one such thing.

Broadly speaking, there are two different types of debts; Life Debts and Honour Debts. A Life Debt is created when a wizard or witch selflessly risks their life for the sake of another, with no expectation of reward or duty compelling them to do so, such as the duty of an Auror or Mediwitch. This of course means that Miss Weasley here owes Mr Potter a Life Debt for saving her life in the Chamber of Secrets."

A gasp went up from the Weasleys. Ginny was blushing rather prettily as she remembered Harry coming to save her.

"Does Harry wish to invoke the Debt?" Mr Weasley asked softly.

"No, he merely acknowledges that it exists." Dumbledore replied. For the benefit of the children, he added, "If Harry chose to, he could invoke the Debt and claim something from the Weasley Family, up to and including the life he saved."

"Bloody Hell!" Ron blurted in shock.

"Ronald, language!" his mother scolded on autopilot.

"Young Harry has no intentions of invoking the Debt and was quite upset when he discovered that Miss Weasley owed him such a Debt. He did argue that as Miss Weasley is his best friend's younger sister, no debt was owed, but alas, magic is quite old fashioned and thus, the debt stands." Dumbledore said reassuringly.

"That's a relief." Bill muttered, his protective big brother instincts surfacing for a moment.

"I will warn you though that because Miss Weasley has a conscience, she will be prodded by the Debt to try and repay Harry." Dumbledore said solemnly, "She can and will be able to ignore it, with no penalty to either the Weasley family or her magic. But it is something to keep in mind."

"Fair enough." Arthur smiled at his blushing daughter and then returned his attention to Dumbledore, who was speaking again.

"The second kind of Debt, Honour Debts, is far less common as they are far harder to activate. Might I ask how you three consider Mr Potter?"

"An Honorary-"

"-Weasley." the twins said

"My best mate." Ron said.

"Very good." Dumbledore said, "Because of this bond you share with him and the fact that his life wasn't in actual risk, Harry owes you an Honour Debt rather than a Life Debt. That is the tricky thing about Honour Debts you see; they are invoked when one person's honour is saved by another. Honour is far more nebulous than one might think. In this case, he owes an Honour Debt to each of the three who affected his escape. Mr Fred Weasley, Mr George Weasley and Mr Ronald Weasley."

The room was completely silent, even the Twins were completely speechless at this. Percy had a calculating look in his eyes. Ginny looked shocked. Ron looked like someone had just hit him in the face with a frying pan…hard.

"Albus, he can't owe them an Honour Debt, surely!" Molly broke the silence with a strident shout, making most of the other people in the room flinch.

"Ah, but Molly, I am afraid he does." Dumbledore said once he recovered from the woman's shout, "I performed a charm on Harry that confirmed it. If you like, I can perform it here?"

When Molly hesitantly nodded, Dumbledore pulled his wand from his robes and held it above his head.

"Vinculum Revelio!" Dumbledore commanded.

A blue light pulsed from his wand and swept across the people of the room. Ginny was illuminated with a golden aura, while Ron, Fred and George were lit up by a silver aura, which made the fight go out of Molly Weasley.

"As you might be able to tell," Dumbledore said as he returned his wand to its pocket. "A golden aura represents a Life Debt, whether the person owes the debt or is the one who caused it to come into existence. The silver aura indicates an Honour Debt."

This time it was Percy who spoke up, his voice emotionless. "So I take it Mr Potter has expressed an interest in repaying the Debt he owes to my brothers?"

"Indeed." Dumbledore frowned slightly as he passively used Legilimency to see that the person who was to be the new Head Boy this year was trying to figure out how to use this to his advantage when he graduated from Hogwarts and entered the Ministry of Magic.

'Should have been in Slytherin, this one.' he thought privately.

Aloud, he said, "Ordinarily, Mr Potter wouldn't have to worry about such a thing, as Honour Debts are again similar to Life Debts in that the person who owes the Debt is not obliged to repay it. In Harry's current case however, he is due to be given his Heir's Rings on his thirteenth birthday and become Heir Apparent to the House of Potter. Should he have any debts owed when he takes up his position, however, a hidden clause in the Potter Family Charter would prevent him from becoming Head of House Potter for an additional two years from his seventeenth birthday."

"That isn't fair!" Ron protested.

"Personally, I agree with you, but the Potter Family has always believed in paying back debts as quickly as is physically possible." Dumbledore replied with a small twinkle in his eyes, "Harry just so happens to agree with this philosophy, therefore he hired a Wizard-at-Law to negotiate on his behalf with you before his birthday in…three days, I believe."

"How'd he do that?" Arthur asked in surprise, "I didn't think Harry knew any Wizards-at-Law."

"The benefit of living such a long life is that one can amass a considerable number of qualifications as the years go on." Dumbledore said happily, "When I learned of Harry's plight, I offered my services. He is extraordinarily generous with the fee he is paying me; a lifetimes supply of Sherbet Lemons!"

What the Weasley's took that to mean is that he was essentially working pro bono publico as a favour to Harry.

"Now then, the negotiations can begin." Dumbledore said as he leaned back in his chair, "Any questions first?"

"What…what are the lower limits of repayment in the case of an Honour Debt?" Molly asked, evidently hoping to settle for that.

'Just as both Harry and I both guessed she would.' Dumbledore chuckled to himself.

"Hmm…well, in this case, as multiple people are owed for the same service simultaneously, I would say at least two-thousand galleons. Perhaps another thousand if you wish to lump all three debts together." Dumbledore said, enjoying the stupefied looks on the Weasley's faces, "That would be if Harry wasn't an Heir to a Most Noble and Ancient House. As he is one, you can easily double that amount or even triple it."

Taking pity on the white faces of Molly and Arthur, he added, "Alternatively, you can specify specific things for him to pay or a service that you need done instead."

"That…that sounds much better." Molly whispered.

"As it so happens, Mr Potter has given me a proposed list of services he might offer." Dumbledore continued, "Would you care to hear them?"

"Certainly." Arthur said, recovering slightly.

"Very well." Dumbledore said and drew a piece of parchment from within his robes, "First, in thanks for the service of Mr Frederick Gideon Weasley, Mr Potter would like to assume financial responsibility for the school expenses of the three members of your family who aided him, up to and including replacing the wand of one Ronald Bilius Weasley."

This made jaws drop around the room.

"I had a word with Harry about this and persuaded him to include the requirement that they must maintain a grade average of at least Acceptable in all classes." Dumbledore added, much to the dismay of Fred, George and Ron, "Ah yes, Misters Fred and George Weasley, Mr Potter adds this message to the both of you: consider yourselves pranked."

A rare sight appeared to the Weasley family this day: a speechless Fred and George. Ginny was laughing her socks off, along with Bill. Even Percy had to smirk at the Prank Masters being pranked themselves.

"Fred, oh brother of mine?" George said, one eye twitching madly.

"Yes, my less-handsome brother?" Fred replied.

"I do believe our exalted Headmaster is aiding Harrykins in a long distance prank. What should be done here?"

"For the moment, grit out teeth and take it, Forge." Fred replied gloomily, "But once Harrykins is within reach again…"

"…revenge." George finished.

"Molly?" Arthur asked quietly.

"It's too much Arthur!" Molly whispered back to him, "You know how expensive Hogwarts Tuition is!"

Dumbledore coughed slightly to attract their attention. Once he had it, the headmaster said, "Fortuitously, Harry was left several Vaults by people grateful for his defeat of Voldemort. He can easily fund the three boys through Hogwarts without even touching his main Vault. Doing this will not hurt him financially in any way, Molly."

Arthur nodded slowly. "Well…as long as it isn't going to hurt him financially, I see no reason not to accept this one, especially since it will require the boys to work harder in class."

"Minerva will be happy about that." Dumbledore chuckled, "Molly?"

"Oh…very well." Mrs Weasley gave in, "As long as the poor dear isn't going to be put out of pocket by it all."

"He won't be." Dumbledore assured her, "Moving on, as thanks for the services of Mr George Fabian Weasley, Mr Potter wishes to assume financial responsibility for Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley's education, subject to the same grade-based stipulation as the previous repayment."

Ginny's eyes widened in shock.

"Albus!" Molly half-shrieked in shock.

Arthur looked almost as shaken as his wife did. "Might I ask why Harry…Mr Potter wishes to do this?"

"An interesting question." Dumbledore mused, "Part of it is an honest desire to help you out in your finances, I would guess. Harry has known poverty as well, you know, so he knows what it is like not to have money to do everything you might like to do and he wishes to help alleviate your worries in that department."

"Such a dear!" Molly said tearfully, "Are you certain he can afford this, Albus? Four extra Hogwarts Tuitions per year is not even remotely cheap."

"I can assure you Molly that it is not going to affect Harry at all." Dumbledore said reassuringly, "He double-checked this with Gringotts before suggesting it and the result says that he can manage it easily without even touching his Trust Vault."

"Ohhhh…alright then." Molly said reluctantly.

"Very good then…" Dumbledore smiled, "The last one is in thanks for the service given by Ronald Bilius Weasley. Mr Potter offers, as a gift, all shares owned by the Potter Family of the Quidditch team known as the Chudley Cannons to Mr Weasley."

Ron gaped for a moment before managing to ask exactly how many shares they were talking about.

"Let's see here…" Dumbledore perused the sheet of parchment he had, "A Thirty percent share in the team itself and twenty percent in the official memorabilia manufacture and sales."

"Bloody hell!" Ron was floored, "Looks like Harry won't need to get me anything for Christmas for the next fifty years!"

"He mentioned to me that you might say something similar to that." Dumbledore said, a small smile, "Harry said to tell you when you did, 'Don't be such a stupid git Ron or I'll get Hermione to give you a lecture on the subject'."

"Merlin save me!" Ron said dramatically, "Anything but that!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I will endeavour to persuade Harry not to unleash Miss Granger upon you, Mr Weasley. Now, as you are underage, your shares will be delegated to the control of your father until you attain your majority, when upon they shall revert to your control. Arthur, contact a Goblin by the name of Rifttooth for when you want to manage those shares. As they have been left to wither since Charlus died, they may need a bit of encouragement to prosper again."

"Of course Albus." Arthur nodded, "I'll also sit down and teach Ron about financial management so he knows how to look after the shares once he is of age."

"Great, more homework!" Ron grumbled, although the grin on his face belied his words.

"Do you, Arthur Weasley, accept the previously mentioned services and gifts from Harry James Potter as repayment for the Honour Debts that he owes to your sons, Frederick Gideon Weasley, George Fabian Weasley and Ronald Bilious Weasley?" Dumbledore asked formally

"I, Arthur Weasley, do accept, on behalf of my sons, the previously mentioned services with gracious thanks." Mr Weasley replied, "I declare the Honour Debt repaid in full."

A silvery light played across Ron, Fred and George as Mr Weasley finished speaking, before vanishing in another flash.

"Excellent." Dumbledore beamed happily, as he drew a sheaf of heavy parchment from within his robes and slid it across the table, "Merely sign this and the transfer of funds will be taken automatically from the Vaults that Harry specified."

Arthur looked it over automatically, double-checking the details of the funds transfer and the dates before signing it with a quill that was available on the table.

"Err…Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny said carefully, "Who is Charlus? The man who owned the shares before Harry?"

"Charlus Augustus Potter, Harry's Grandfather." Dumbledore replied as he dried the signature on the parchment with a silent Aresco, "He was a consummate politician, without the underhandedness that politicians often take part in. Harry is fairly similar to him in character and demeanour."

"What happened to him?" Ginny asked.

"Alas, he and his wife Dorea were ambushed at Potter Manor by Death Eaters shortly after Harry's father graduated from Hogwarts. They took down several attackers before being overwhelmed." Dumbledore said sadly, "It truly was a tragedy. They never even got to see their son wed Lily. Potter Manor was burned down as well. A true tragedy."

"Why…why would You-Know-Who attack a Pureblood family like the Potters?" Ginny asked, her eyes full of tears.

"The Potters have always been a Light family." Dumbledore replied, "Several times in the past, the Potters were the ones who resisted the greatest Dark Lords of their time. They paid for it in blood, but they refused to bow to the Dark. Voldemort knew he could never get the Potters to submit to him…so he did everything in his power to wipe them out…and almost succeeded. Harry is the very last member of the Potters."

"He was even worse after he publicly became You-Know-Who, didn't he?" Ginny said softly.

"He did." Dumbledore confirmed, "Now, Molly, Arthur, I have a message from Harry for you. He wishes to inform you that he believe it was Lucius Malfoy who slipped Miss Weasley the diary. He recalls that Lucius picked up her second-hand Transfiguration Book in Flourish and Blotts."

"He slipped it in then. That bastard!" Arthur snarled angrily. He was generally a mild mannered man, but the temper that redheads were infamous for did lurk within him.

The rest of the Weasley family, sans Percy, also looked furious. Fred and George started whispering together darkly about pranking the Malfoy Scion seriously when the new term started, while Ron started cursing under his breath. He had known about Malfoy Senior's role in the Chamber of Secrets incident thanks to Harry, but thinking about it still pissed him off. Bill looked like he'd like to lock the man in one of the tombs he had excavated.

Molly and Ginny looked like they would very much like to curse someone right at this very moment…preferably anyone with the surname Malfoy.

"Is there any actual proof besides Harry's word?" Percy asked indifferently, "It isn't advisable to accuse people without proof, certainly not one of Lucius Malfoy's influence and power."

He ignored the incredulous looks sent at him by his family with the ease of long practice.

"Lucius made a tacit -although entirely unconscious- admission to the fact when he came to confront me for returning to Hogwarts despite being removed by the Board of Governors." Dumbledore replied firmly, "All that he should have known for certain was that Miss Weasley was taken into the Chamber by the Heir of Slytherin, using the diary as a medium. And yet, when Harry asked him if he wished to know how Ginny got her hands on it, he didn't immediately ask if it was Ginny who had been possessed by the diary. Instead he responded with, 'how should I know how the stupid little girl got her hands on it?'"

"How dare he call my daughter stupid!" Molly growled, "I'm of a mind to send an overpowered Howler to him!"

"Sadly, the Malfoys have a room for remotely detonating Howlers in their manor, so it would be useless, I'm afraid." Dumbledore said in amusement, "In future, I would keep a weather eye when Lucius is in the vicinity."

"We will, Albus." Arthur replied grimly, "Thank you for this information. And send our thanks to Harry as well…for everything."

"I will do so." Dumbledore said as he rose from his seat and Vanished it, "Now, I must be off. There are still some preparations to make for Hagrid's trial and I would hate for anything to go wrong and delay it."

"Of course Albus." Arthur stood up and shook the Headmaster's hand, "Send Minerva my regards."

"I shall do that very thing." Dumbledore assured him, "Do enjoy the rest of your holidays and I look forward to seeing the five of you at Hogwarts on September the First."

With this, the venerable wizard swept out of the room, leaving the Weasley's behind to talk among themselves.

"Why would Harry Potter do this for us?" Bill asked, plainly confused.

"Knowing Harry, he just wanted to help us out." Ron said with a snort of amusement, "He's been really grateful for Mum knitting him a Weasley Sweater for the last couple of years. His relatives barely bother to send anything, the gits. Plus he did offer to pay for replacing my wand, so this way he actually gets to do that."

"Well, well. Ickle Ronniekins is actually showing some insight." Fred teased.

"Is a pig flying?" George asked in mock seriousness, "Should we call the local Office of Misinformation?"

"Gits!" Ron rolled his eyes at the Twins' teasing, "ANYWAY, that's what I think he's thinking. Harry isn't exactly hard to figure out once you get to know him."

"He's very kind." Ginny put in, "He taught me all the charms and spell that I should have leaned in DADA this year, and a few more besides. He's a really good teacher."

"Will you be having more 'private lessons' with Harrykins next term, Gin-Gin?" Fred asked as he waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

"Mucus ad Nauseum Maxima!" Ginny shrieked in embarrassment, her face turning the same colour as a radish as she whipped out her wand and pointed it at her brother.

"A-a-a-a-a-achooooo!" Fred sneezed all over the table, blanketing quite a bit of it in snot.

"Eww!" Ron recoiled from the table in disgust, "That's it, I am not teaching you the Slug Vomiting Charm once I get my new wand; you are way too scary just with the Curse of the Bogeys!"

"Well done, spitfire." Bill praised his sister with a chuckle as he Vanished the snot on the table with the flick of his wand, "I think I'll have to teach you a spell that Dad taught me; the Bat-Bogy Curse."

Fred, already slightly pale from his newly developed severe cold, paled even further until he looked like a redheaded Draco Malfoy. Combine the Bat-Bogey Curse with Ginny's mastery of the Curse of the Bogeys and he really didn't want to cross his sister with that spell combo up her sleeve!

"Harry, I am going do prank you for a solid week for dis!" he moaned.

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At the Same Time

Sirius' Cell, Azkaban Prison

The time was now.

Sirius had been careful to mark the new schedule of the Dementors. In every previous year, after the Minister visited, the Dementors altered the food delivery schedules for the High Security Prisoners. He knew it was likely the few human Guards trying to make life worse for the prisoners.

He snorted quietly. When you are trapped on an island in the middle of one of the coldest seas on the planet and surrounded by soul-sucking demons that drain every positive emotion from you, leaving only the worst emotions you have left, a little thing like late meals isn't exactly high on your list of priorities.

Especially the food in question was the bland, gruel-like porridge that was served for breakfast, lunch and dinner in this hellhole. It was barely worthy of the title 'food' and Sirius swore that when he cleared his name, he would never lower himself to eating porridge of any description again.

In the meantime, he had memorised the new meal schedule, so he could enact his escape plan. It relied entirely on timing. He simply had to slip past the Dementors in his Animagus form and then sneak through the prison until he could find a place to jump into the sea.

Not the best plan, but it was what he had to work with. He just hoped the sudden submersion into the ice-cold water didn't send his body into shock. Drowning was a very painful death from what he had gathered.

Sirius stiffened. He could hear the rattling breath of another Dementor coming up the cellblock and stopping occasionally. This was it. He had one chance at this. If he failed, he'd be Kissed by the Dementors.

With a small pop, he transformed into the big black Grim and waited. The cold feeling grew as a third Dementor joined the two already stationed outside his cell door. There was a light metallic rattle as the cell door was unlocked and then the door opened.

The Dementor floated through carrying a small metal tray that probably had the small, fired-clay bowl full of his ration of slop for the morning. Acting quickly, the black dog slipped past the floating demon, making certain to not touch the foul thing.

Part one was complete, but now he had to execute part two: find a way out of this massive prison. The High Security cells were on the top floor, so he would have to go down a dozen floors or so to the low security area and the Warden's Office to look for a way out.

Shivering at the cold air -from both the Dementors and the North Sea- Sirius padded down the corridor towards where he vaguely remembered the stairs were from when he was brought in. Behind him, the blind Dementors ignored his lack of presence and floated where they had done so for hours previously.

Pattering down the stairs, Sirius -or Padfoot as he preferred to be called in this form- made certain to keep to the shadows and out of sight of anyone who might spot him. What surprised him was the lack of any doors separating the floors. Such an obvious precaution should have been the first thing to install when the prison was built.

Padfoot put it down to complacency. As the prison was in the middle of the North Sea and guarded by every Dementor in existence, no one could hope to break out and had nowhere to go even if they did get out. The island was also layered in multiple Anti-Apparition Wards to prevent magical escape. There was no Floo access or broomsticks either, meaning the only way off the island was to jump into the raging water that surrounded Azkaban Island.

A voice made Padfoot freeze where he stood. It seemed to come from the door to his left.

"This has to be the most depressing assignment in the entire Auror Corps." the voice proclaimed loudly.

"I hear ya." another voice answered the first, "What's the point of guarding this place? None of the Death Eater scum has the balls to try and break out and even if they did, they'd get Kissed on sight."

"I just wish we could invent a ward that blocked the damn deathly aura of the Dementors." a third voice grumbled, "The only reason I'm still in the Corps is that Azkaban guard duty is only a week before fresh Aurors are rotated in. Damn, but it's cold here!"

"Suck it up, newbie." fourth, authoritative voice boomed, "We have to be on guard here because more than a few Death Eaters got off by pleading being under the influence of the Imperius Curse. Who can tell if or when they might try and break their comrades who didn't get off out."

"Tch. Yeah right." the first voice scoffed, "As if they'd risk their pardons by breaking out the idiots too stupid to get caught and the ones too poor to 'donate to a worthy cause' in order to get off. Face it, this is a dead end post and I for one will be glad when the boat comes to pick us up in two days time."

"Damn, Dawlish, you're a cynical man." the second voice observed.

"I'm a devoted member of the Ministry." Dawlish replied, "I'll do the job given to me, but I'm going to see about getting onto Minister Fudge's bodyguard detail. They don't get sent to Azkaban unless he comes here himself."

Padfoot shook his canine head and crept past the door and down the next flight of stairs. That almost had to have been John Dawlish. He had been three years older than Sirius at Hogwarts and had joined the Aurors, while he and James joined the Hitwizards. Sirius had never liked him much as he was a perfect example of a drone of the Ministry; unthinkingly devoted to the Ministry of Magic and convinced that the government could do no wrong.

Sirius, tutored by the Black Family before his departure from that family, had known better than to trust the Ministry unthinkingly, even before his illegal incarceration in Azkaban. That had just been the cherry on the cake.

A foul scent reached Padfoot's nose and he resisted the urge to throw up. That was the unmistakable scent of the Warden; unwashed, greasy clothes, an overpoweringly violent cologne and halitosis strong enough to melt Goblin-wrought silver.

A thought occurred to him and Sirius cackled to himself as he stalked into the man's office. The fat fool was busy devouring what looked like Toad in the Hole, drowned in beef gravy, with a small side of Brussels Sprouts and Broccoli. The scent of that made Padfoot's mouth water. He hadn't eaten anything you could call food in almost thirteen years.

'First things first…' he cautioned himself before unleashing a ferocious growl, aided by the fact he despised the Warden.

The fat man looked up from shovelling food down his gullet to almost choke at what he saw. A Grim. A death omen. And it was growling at him, poised to attack!

With a muffled scream of terror, the man fled from the room, into his private chambers and slammed the door shut with a bang.

Padfoot wagged his tail and helped himself to the man's food. Even with the taste buds of a dog, it still tasted absolutely divine. He hadn't been fond of Toad in the Hole before, but anything was better than the slop they fed the prisoners here.

Finishing the remains of the man's food, Padfoot trotted happily out into the rain that perpetually bombarded Azkaban. It was the presence of the Dementors that drew the rain clouds to the island, Sirius knew. The sun hadn't shone on the island since the Dementors were placed there.

The side door he had taken was for when the Warden walked out to greet the Minister when the boat took him to the pier. Couldn't have him using the same entrance as the prisoners now, could we? The Unplottable Charms that covered Azkaban -rather fortunately- did not stop someone standing at the edge of the island from peering through the rain and seeing the faint outline of the mainland in the distance.

This was the part Sirius had been dreading. He had no idea if his worn and out of shape body could manage to endure the severe cold of the water, even as a dog.

No, he had to make it. Harry was depending on him to make it, even if he didn't know it yet. Wormtail was going to stab him in the back, just like he did to James and Lily…oh, and Sirius as well, while he was thinking about it.

Steeling himself, Padfoot leapt into the water after taking a running start. He yelped as he felt the ice-cold water wash over him and started to curse the bright spark who had decided to place the prison in the middle of the sodding North Sea!

Mentally gritting his teeth, Padfoot began the long and arduous task of swimming. The water was sapping his strength and the combined aura of the Dementors had a considerable range to it, so he was still affected by them as well.

Still, he struggled on. In order to carry on, Sirius began visualising how he was going to kill Wormtail. He didn't have a wand, so most spells were out…unless he could steal a wand…anyway, that left the very satisfying thought of wringing the little shitebag's neck…or even breaking it with a well placed twist.

Before he knew it, he was clambering, soaked to the bone, cold and trembling, from the sea onto a slate beach, exhausted, but triumphant. He looked around warily, looking for people.

No one was there. The entire beach was deserted. In the distance, he could make out the hut and boathouse of the ferryman who took people over to the Isle of Azkaban.

In his excitement, Padfoot couldn't help himself. He raised his head and let loose a loud howl of triumph, which had a dark promise of vengeance accompanying it.

'Peter! Wormtail! I am coming for you, you little traitor!'

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Two Days Later - Morning

Dining Room, Greengrass Manor

Cyrus Greengrass leaned back in his chair as he finished his breakfast. As was his habit, he scanned his family.

His wife, Eleanor, was sipping a cup of tea as she read a letter from a friend. Her long, dark hair was a contrast to his own short, blond hair. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the letter she read efficiently and quickly.

His own pale green eyes crinkled as he gazed at her. Cyrus had been lucky to catch her eye back in Hogwarts. She had been a Prefect and one of the smartest girls in school, whereas he had been a middling student, only excelling in Arithmancy. His skills in that subject had been what had piqued her initial interest in him, as he consistently been at the top of the class, leaving even Eleanor in his dust. She had asked him to tutor her and the rest, as they say, was history.

Cyrus then turned his attention to his youngest child, Astoria. She had inherited her mother's eyes and hair, as well as her sharp intellect. She was unexpectedly skilled with Potions, which had pleased Severus Snape, her Head of House. She wasn't really suited for Slytherin. Astoria was a bright, open girl, who loved her family with a passion. She had asked for Slytherin because it was where her sister had been sorted.

With a sigh, Cyrus turned his attention to his eldest daughter. Daphne was a true amalgam of he and his wife. His blond hair and Eleanor's piercing blue eyes combined to make her a strikingly beautiful young woman already. If she was like this at thirteen, she would doubtless develop into an even more beautiful woman when she graduated from Hogwarts.

Seeing her emotionless face as she ate, however, made him sigh again. The…condition…that she was cursed with was why she would likely never marry.

Clearing his throat, he asked, "Is it Ice Queen or Daphne this morning?"

"Ice Queen." Daphne replied flatly, making Cyrus sigh yet again.

Daphne had been a normal magical child until she was four, when he and his distant cousin, Edgar Greengrass, had been vying for the position of Head of House Greengrass. Edgar was a thoroughly disreputable rake, scoundrel and altogether, a cad of the worst sort. The previous Head of house had barely even paused before making Cyrus the next Head before his passing.

The taste of success had quickly soured in his mouth as, in a petty act of vengeance, Edgar had cursed Daphne with an ancient curse that had only one cure.

The Bipolar Mind Curse.Mentis Paradoxum. It was a disgraceful curse that chose one aspect of a person's personality and cloned it, creating a split personality of sorts, at least once the target of the spell developed a distinct personality. The target's original personality and the secondary personality then switched places at random times. It had been somewhat of a relief to Cyrus when the aspect of personality that had been chosen was her cold aloofness rather than her temper or her kindness.

At least, it had been a relief…at first. She scared away her suitors and potential friends with her personality shifts. The secondary personality hadn't bothered taking a name, merely adopting the moniker that everyone called her; 'The Ice Queen', and didn't really care what anyone thought of her.

Cyrus had brought several experts in the field of Dark Curses, aw well as a few Curse-Breakers. All of them had told him the same thing: in order to break the curse, the condition of release had to be fulfilled.

Edgar had been stupid when he fled, leaving behind the exact book he had used to research the spell he had used on Daphne. This had allowed Cyrus to painstakingly piece together which variation of the spell Edgar had used, as there were several. Fortunately, the more…disturbing…variants had been beyond Edgar's skill as a wizard, so he had used one of the three basic spells.

Each one had a different tell, a way to recognise which spell had been cast. This one, recognised by a searing migraine before the change, was clearly the variant known as the 'Lovelost' spell. It could only be broken when someone fell in love with Daphne, without knowledge of the spell, and loved both personalities equally.

Whoever had created the spell was a sadist, Cyrus was sure. Either that or a hopeless romantic.

A 'crack!' from his left drew Cyrus' mind from his pondering. One of the House Elves, Toddy, held a folded copy of the Daily Prophet up to him.

"Toddy is bringing Master his paper!" the diminutive being squeaked. He wore a well-laundered pillowcase with the Greengrass crest on it.

"Thank you Toddy." Cyrus said absently as he accepted the paper and unfolded it to start reading it. He then loudly swore like a sailor for a moment as he saw the headline on the paper.

"Dear?" Eleanor asked in mild reproach. She had very strong views on profane language.

"Look at this!" he snapped as he thrust the paper at her. She took it with a raised eyebrow. Her face paled as she read the headline.

'SIRIUS BLACK, HISTOY'S FIRST AZKABAN ESCAPEE!'

"Merlin and Morgana…!' she said faintly. A Death Eater, quite possibly THE most infamous Death Eater in the world, had achieved the impossible and escaped the fortress that was Azkaban Prison. Whatever next?

"Mum?" Astoria asked curiously.

"A Death Eater has escaped from Azkaban." Cyrus answered for his still stunned wife, "As of now, I am raising the wards to Level 2 status."

With that, Cyrus Greengrass strode from the room, heading towards the Wardstone that controlled Greengrass Manor's magical defences.

Astoria shared a wide-eyed look with Daphne, who had regained control of her body amongst all the fuss. Greengrass Manor had a layered warding system. The higher the level, the more powerful the wards were and the more active defences were enabled. Ordinarily, the defences were kept at Level 4, which was slightly less secure than an Ancient and Noble Family's secondary home, with no active defences and a couple of mild Notice-Me-Not Charms.

Level 2 was just short of the defences of the Ancestral Home of a Most Noble and Ancient family. Several active defences, golems mostly, a mail redirect ward, Anti-Apparition wards, Anti-Portkey Wards and several nasty Trap Curses were the defences both Greengrass Scions knew about, but they knew there were others at Level 2.

For their father to skip Level 3 completely and move straight to Level 2...

"Who escaped?" Daphne asked her mother.

"Sirius Black." Eleanor replied, "The Betrayer of the Potters and the Dark Lord's right-hand man."

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Next Chapter: Trial and Prejudice