A/N) Would anyone like longer chapters? The HBP storyline will be kicking in shortly, and as I still have the Deathly Hallows storyline to cover as well, I'd like to know whether people would have longer chapters rather then shorter ones as I could see this fic possibly going over 100 chapters if I continue with the short chapters? It might mean a bit longer in between updates though but I should still be able to update every week. It is up to you - the reader - so please to let me know what you would prefer.

And so I present, chapter 45:

Chapter Forty-Five: Family Ties

Thursday 9th September 1995

"Hey, where's Neville?" asked Ron, as he rubbed his eyes, sitting up in bed. "Did he ever come back after Professor McGonagall collected him last night?"

Harry shook his head, brushing his hair with a comb but as always his hair sprang back up and he gave up. "I don't know why I even bother trying to keep my hair neat. It's never going to lay flat." He turned towards Ron. "I didn't see Neville come back. His bed hasn't been slept in all night."

"Do you think he's okay?" asked Dean Thomas, closing and locking his trunk.

"Dunno," shrugged Ron.

As they walked down to the Great Hall, Hermione joined them. She had under her arms the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. "Harry, Ron," she inclined her head towards the corner. "Over here."

"What is it?" asked Harry, his curiosity mounting when Hermione didn't answer but instead waited till they were crowded in the corner. She handed him the Daily Prophet. He took it and unrolled it. His eyes widened as he took in the headline. His stomach sank as he read the article. "Poor Neville."

"What is it?" asked Ron. Harry thrust the paper towards him. Ron's mouth fell open as he read, the colour leaving his face. "Man, do you think Neville will be alright?"

"Oh Ron! Do you really think he would be after what has just happened?" asked Hermione, crossly. "First he loses his parents and now he stands to lose the closest thing he has to a parent!"

"She's not insane yet, Hermione," said Ron. "She's still being looked at."

Hermione scowled and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Oh, you can be so insensitive at times!" She grabbed for the paper, tearing it from Ron's hands. "I just thought you'd want to know before Malfoy started to boast about it! You know he will make a big deal out of this!" She stomped off heading into the Great Hall, leaving Ron to stare dumbfounded at her retreating back.

"What did I say?"

Harry did not reply, choosing to stay out of the argument.

Friday 10th September 1995

"Can you believe it?" grinned Ron, his face flushed red with cold. "I'm on the team, Harry. I'm actually on the team! Having a Firebolt probably helped though..."

"I told you," said Harry exasperatedly. "You got in on talent, not on what broomstick you have. Maybe if you had been in Slytherin then, yeah, you'd be right, but in Gryffindor we always pick the best talent."

Ron turned a deep shade of purple. Harry understood that Ron thought little of his talent on the Quidditch pitch but once he was trained up, he'd be a valuable asset to the Gryffindor team.

"Look, you'll be fine," said Harry. "Angelina believes in you. She really wouldn't have picked you if she thought you'd be a failure. Believe me when I say this Ron, but when I was picked to be Seeker I was terrified. I had my father's legacy to live up to. Everyone told me what a great player he was and that he'd be proud of me. I had that hanging over my head." Ron opened his mouth to interrupt but Harry carried on, talking over his protests. "I know you have your own brother's to live up to, but that's different. No one is going to compare you to them because you are your own person and you are different in more ways than one... but everyone has always compared me to my mum and dad. How do you think that makes me feel? I never got the chance to know them: how do I know that I am doing the right thing?"

Ron closed his mouth, relenting that Harry had more of a legacy to live up to then he did. At least he had his parents to tell him how proud they were of him, whereas Harry's parents were gone. The only connection he had left to them was Sirius, and even then, having him around was not the same as having your own flesh and blood saying the words: 'I am proud of you'.

Monday 13th September 1995

"Very good, Potter, you have been practising," drawled Snape as he lowered his wand. "You successfully rebutted my every attempt to gain entrance to your mind. I assume that once again the images I did see were false?" He raised one very pointed eyebrow.

"Yes," confirmed Harry.

"Yes, sir," countered Snape.

"Yes sir," reiterated Harry. He didn't feel frustrated as such but it was annoying that he could be spending this time at Quidditch Practice. When Angelina had found out he was unable to attend practice she had shouted herself hoarse. Still, hopefully he wouldn't have to miss too many practices once Snape had proclaimed him able and ready to deal with magical penetration on his own, which by all accounts he was successfully doing. He understood they had to be careful and didn't realise him too soon from lessons.

"For a third lesson you have made remarkable progress. It appears you may even be a natural at it..." said Snape. "It is a shame that this talent for Occlumency cannot be carried over into your Potion's work."

"If I had a more competent teacher who doesn't hate my guts..." muttered Harry, under his breath.

"What was that, Potter?" Snape's voice was sharp.

"Nothing, Professor." Harry stood quite still in the centre of the room, already knowing that Snape might try to pull the truth from him, but he could block that – he knew he could.

"A week's worth of detention I think, Potter," said Snape, turning away from Harry, his robes billowing behind him, "for insulting and lying to a teacher."

Harry's mouth fell open, dumbfounded. Cleary Snape was guessing as he had not employed Legilimency against him. He didn't even have the strength to argue. Logic told him he would just make his position even worse.

"Your week of detention will begin after I have passed you capable enough to use Occlumency. We cannot have detentions getting in the way of practice, can we?" smirked Snape. "You are dismissed for the evening, Potter."

Harry picked up his back and walked quickly out of Snape's office. Angelina would not be pleased.

"You've gone and done what?" yelled Angelina Johnson, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Harry bit his lip. "A week's worth of detention but I don't know when it is."

Angelina held her head in her hands. "Harry, we need you! You are the soul of this team! Our first match will be against Slytherin and you know Professor Snape will schedule them for then don't you so that we have a disadvantage?"

Harry had not thought of that possibility. "It'll be okay, Angelina," he said. "I'm a good Seeker...and yes I know, I messed up, but at least it's not Fred or George or any of the others. They are more the team then me; I'm just on the outskirts. We look out for each other, yeah, but the Seeker isn't integrated into that team meld that well. All things considered, I work on my own and you know I'm a natural." He grinned, hoping that his slightly flawed reasoning about the workings of a Quidditch team would be enough to placate Angelina.

She frowned at him, her unusually pretty face mellowing. "You make a valid point, but don't do whatever you did again. We can't have you missing practices! We have to win the cup!"

"I know. Quidditch is important to me too," explained Harry. "I just messed up. It won't happen again." He vowed and he meant every word.

Neville hadn't returned to the school or lessons until Tuesday afternoon. Harry found him in the boy's dormitories when he had to rush back up to get a book for his next lesson. Hesitantly he approached the round-faced boy. "Neville?"

The brown-haired boy glanced up and a slight smile flittered across his face. "Hey."

Harry felt uncomfortable. "Are you ok?" he asked tentatively. "I read what happened in the paper..."

Neville lowered his head. "Gran's fine. She'll be in St. Mungos for a few weeks yet."

"I'm glad she's ok," smiled Harry.

"Thanks Harry. I'm glad too."

Awkward silence fell between them. Harry moved towards his trunk, retrieved the textbook. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

Neville nodded, and feeling like he could have handled the situation better, Harry left the dormitory, heading towards his next lesson, however his thoughts were on Neville and how sad it was for him to have to live through the agony of knowing he could have lost his Gran to the same ailment that had taken his parents from him.

A large brown tawny landed on his desk in the Auror office he shared with Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was nearly midnight and Sirius still had not gone home. He frowned at the owl. It was unusual for an owl to deliver post this late but it was not unheard of. His senses tingling, Sirius reached out and untied the note from the owl's leg and opened it, his eyes widening in recognition as he saw the exotic handwriting that he remembered so well from his childhood.

Dear Sirius,

I'm going to be blunt: I need your help, Sirius. Out of anyone in our family we've always been close, but even then we drifted apart. I chose to stay neutral in this war but you chose to fight back. I have always admired your decision to become an Auror but I didn't want to place my family at risk: staying neutral was the only way I would be left alone. You said you respected my decision to do that and I believe you meant it. I was saddened when I heard what you had done... it had never crossed my mind that you could have been innocent – I should have known better – but I didn't and I thought that I had lost the only family member left who understood me.

I don't want to break my family up over this war but now my daughter is involved. You've seen Bella lately – she's trigger happy as always. But she's also my sister. Ever since Bella clicked that Nymphadora was her niece, I have been receiving threats from her. Bella wants to destroy all those that have 'dragged the Black name through the mud'. I do not want to lose my daughter, Sirius, I love her too much.

You of all people know what it is like to be a Black on the side of the light – I remember when you joined the Aurors, they didn't trust you because you were a Black, but you proved them wrong and are still doing it. Please, I need you to protect her. She doesn't deserve to die just because I 'polluted the Wizarding World with dirty blood'.

I have been given an ultimatum – to join the Dark Lord and fight for him and spare my husband and daughter's lives; if I don't they will die and I will be forced to watch it.

I need your help and protection. I dare not risk coming to see you. I know I am being watched. This was the only way I could think of to get a message to you. (I have charmed the paper so that only the intended recipient can read it.) Please do not think badly of me, Sirius, but I do not want to get involved in this war... I just want my family to be safe.

Love,

Andromeda Black

Sirius scrolled up the letter, thinking hard. It didn't surprise him in the slightest that Bellatrix (and to an extent, the Dark Lord) was making threats towards those that had shown an inclination to not support him. One such as Andromeda had defied what he believed in and sired a child of dirty blood.

There was only one thing he could do. He would have to go to Dumbledore. The head of the Order of the Phoenix was placed in a better position to help his favourite cousin. He could at least offer her protection.

Scribbling down a quick note, (Yes, I will help) Sirius tied the small piece of parchment to the owl's leg and sent it on its way. He knew, without a doubt, that he would be seeing Andromeda soon. She was probably the only one left in his family that he would even consider seeing on a regular basis. After all, Black sheep do tend to stick together.

To be continued...

Please let me know what you think!

Next chapter: The Two-Way Mirror - coming soon

Until next time!

the-writer1988