Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had decided to move Harry into Dudley's second room and out of his cupboard after getting their telling-off from Sirius. They didn't want to deal with another wizard, this time one who was very well aware of his powers and able to use them. They weren't treating Harry like a prince, exactly, but it seemed that they were trying to make a better effort, albeit not out of any actual concern for Harry.

But there was someone in the house who was very unhappy about this. Dudley was used to being the one who was treated like a prince while Harry got treated like dirt. Even though his parents still put him first, he was jealous that Harry was now being treated like a human being.

By that Wednesday, he had reached a boiling point. His gang elected to publicly humiliate Harry at recess time, because Dudley figured that if he picked on Harry at school, Harry's godfather would never know, and he would be safe. Worse than that, both of Harry's new track pants were in the wash, so all he had to wear were oversized jeans again, and he'd tripped over them, causing everyone to laugh meanly.

"And you're going to tell Mum you fell off the swings or something," said Dudley, kicking Harry once more for good measure, leaving his cousin to peel himself up off the ground.

…

Dudley and Harry got off the bus that day with Harry feeling awful. His glasses were broken, and he knew he would have to tape them up again. He was just about to go up to his room and get started on his homework when he noticed who was sitting there waiting for him at the kitchen table.

"Sirius?" said Harry in disbelief.

"I thought I'd come by and visit today, if you don't mind," said Sirius, who had been looking happy at first, but when he saw Harry his face turned to concern. "What on Earth happened to you?"

Harry just shrugged and sat down at the table.

"Listen…" said Sirius. "Your dad's mother had the best recipe for hot chocolate. I bet I can figure it out and make us some if you could just show me where your coffeemaker is."

Harry told Sirius what he needed to know, then waited at the kitchen table. He wasn't sure if Sirius knew exactly what he was doing, but he appreciated the effort all the same. The hot chocolate was done soon enough, and Harry blew on it for a few minutes before he drank it so he wouldn't scorch his tongue. Sirius added whipped cream to both and drank his with satisfaction.

"Turned out better than I thought," Sirius said.

Harry drank his hot chocolate, and it did taste good. The two of them drank in silence for a minute, Sirius looking peaceful. Harry didn't really know how to deal with Sirius. Honestly, he almost reminded Harry of…of a parent, or at least an adult who showed genuine concern for him but wasn't a teacher or school counselor. Harry knew teachers were nice to him because it was part of their job, but Sirius was choosing to be nice of his own accord—and Harry couldn't think what he had done to deserve that.

"Why are you doing this?" Harry blurted.

"Doing what?" said Sirius.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Harry clarified. "I mean, I know you knew me when I was a baby, but I don't remember you at all—no offense."

"I'm being nice to you because I love you, just as much as I always have," said Sirius. "Since when does it matter if you remember me or not?"

"Because I didn't…" It was just so hard to explain to Sirius, and for Harry to understand. "I'm not special in any way. I didn't do anything nice for you. I didn't earn it—"

"Love isn't something that should have to be earned," Sirius told him. "I love you for being Harry. Just Harry."

By now, Harry didn't have any appetite for hot chocolate at all. Instead he was just sitting at the table with his chin in his hands, trying to fight back the awful feeling of crying. True, it had been a long time since he had cried. But then, it had been an even longer time since anyone had ever told him they loved him.

"Love is unconditional," Sirius continued thoughtfully, putting his arm around Harry, who leaned into him. "I can tell these people you live with convinced you that you aren't worthy of love at all—conditional or otherwise. But you are. I just wish I could make you see that."

"I don't have anyone at school," Harry confessed. "Nobody likes me there."

"Well, when I was your age I didn't have any real friends either," Sirius told him gently. "You know that? It wasn't until I met your father that I actually enjoyed any aspect of my life. Everyone thought we had everything we wanted, everything…but I don't think my family ever had anything valuable at all."

"What was your family like?" Harry asked.

"Influential." Sirius sighed. "Rich. Stuck-up. You know the type. My parents were convinced that being a member of our family made you practically royalty. But I guess I never felt like I was a part of that family. It was a cold, dark, gloomy place to live. No love, no laughter, not really anyway. Just arranged playdates with the children of other stuck-up Sacred 28 families. I thought I would be stuck that way forever. But then when I went to school I had great friends for the first time…including your father. Even though I came from this snobby, stuck-up family, he gave me a chance anyway, realized I was different. He rescued me from the dismal world I'd have lived in otherwise. When I ran away from home at sixteen he was kind enough to take me in. Why such a good man had to die so early, I'll never know."

"Do you…do you still miss him?" said Harry quietly.

"Every day," said Sirius softly. "Losing James and Lily…that was the worst thing that's ever happened to me. And then letting them take you away…Letting go of you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. If I had to do it all over again, I'd fight tooth and nail to keep them from taking you away from me."

"It sounds better than living here," Harry agreed.

Sirius wiped his wet eyes with the back of his hand and ruffled Harry's hair. "You really do look like him, you know…and I'm sure you'll become just as talented of a wizard…"

"Of a what?!" said Harry, wondering if he'd misheard, or if this was some sort of code word. However, Sirius suddenly looked alarmed.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he repeated, slapping himself in the forehead.

"Don't do that," said Harry. "What were you talking about?"

"Okay. I wasn't supposed to tell you this until your eleventh birthday, but considering the cat's out of the bag, and I was of the opinion that they should have kept you in the know from the very start…" Sirius sighed. "First I have a question for you. Has anything ever happened to you that you haven't been able to explain or understand?"

"Yeah, loads of stuff," Harry admitted.

"Like what?"

"Well, here's one," said Harry. "Whenever I come back from the barber I look like I haven't been—my hair just kind of grows like that" (Sirius smiled fondly) "and Aunt Petunia nearly shaved me bald. I was really dreading going to school that next day, but when I woke up it had all grown back within the night. And one time I didn't want to wear a really ugly old sweater of Dudley's, so it shrunk until it was too small for me…and I was running away from my cousin chasing me and somehow I got transported all the way to the top of the school building…oh, and there was that time I turned my teacher's wig blue—"

"All right, that's quite enough," said Sirius, laughing. "Now listen. I come from somewhere where that sort of thing is perfectly normal, and if you join us, you can learn how to control it…and even use it to your advantage."

"Where is it normal for your hair to grow back overnight?" said Harry.

"Those prats," Sirius sighed. "I told them they should've raised you knowing about all this stuff rather than heaping it on you all at once when you turn eleven, told them you should've had an outlet to our world…But would they listen? NO, of course not! And what's there to make you take me at my word? 'Until he is ready', I ask you…"

"Sirius?" said Harry.

"Oh…sorry," said Sirius. "Do you want the short answer, or the long answer?"

"Short?"

"This is probably going to sound silly, but…" Sirius put his hand on Harry shoulder. "If we had told you from the start, like I wanted, you would already know that…that you're a wizard."

"I'm a what?"

"Like I said…" Sirius put his elbows on the table and set his chin in his hands. "All that weird stuff you've been able to do? That's magic. You were born with the ability to do magic, as were your parents James and Lily. And there's a school you can go to, the same school your parents went to, the same one I went to, where you can learn to control your powers. About a month from now, you'll be getting a school letter, asking you if you want to attend."

"Of course I want to attend!" Harry jumped up. "Does that mean I don't have to go to Stonewall?"

"That's your decision, but I'd recommend going to the magic school." Sirius laughed and got to his feet again too.

"So…you can do magic too?" asked Harry curiously. "Do you mind showing me some?"

Sirius seemed a bit thoughtful, as if thinking of the most impressive spell he could. Finally, he pulled out what Harry realized must be a wand and yelled, "Expecto Patronum!"

To Harry's delight, out of Sirius's wand shot what looked like a gigantic, silvery ghost of a dog—but it seemed solid. Perhaps it was made out of energy. It ran around the kitchen a few times, jumped up on its hind legs with its paws on Harry's shoulders (each paw was bigger than Harry's hand spread out) then flickered and died.

"That…what was that?" Harry asked in awe.

"It was a Patronus," said Sirius. "It's sort of like a guardian, I guess. Anyway, there you are—that's magic. You won't be doing complicated spells like that for a long time, but there's lots you will be doing soon. Maybe you'll even invent one of your own—you can do that, you know. It was something your father and I liked to do, make up our own spells."

"Do you really think I'm going to be a talented wizard?" Harry asked.

"I don't see why you wouldn't be," said Sirius. "But listen…I know this is all very exciting, but there's something else you need to know too."

"I'm listening," said Harry.

"Well, most witches and wizards use magic for good," Sirius began, "but it's also possible to use it for terrible evil. You understand that, don't you?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that's how your parents were murdered," said Sirius soberly. "With what we call Dark magic. Evil magic. The one who murdered them was a wizard who went much too far with the Dark Arts. He messed with life and death itself, which is just about the Darkest, most horrible magic you can do. He slaughtered and tortured people. Everyone was so afraid. Our world was collapsing. But then one night, when you were fifteen months old, something very strange happened. Something that made you famous in our world—the Wizarding world, that is."

Hanging on Sirius's every word, Harry whispered, "W-What?"

"Famous, Harry, famous," said Sirius. "This wizard—Voldemort, that was his name—well, I'm afraid he killed your parents that night. But then he turned his wand on you, and he said the incantation for the curse that kills people, and instead of killing you…it bounced off you and hit him instead. Like I said, one of Voldemort's goals was to conquer death, and I think he got far enough that he didn't actually die. It's not like he looked human. So nobody knows where he went or exactly what happened. All we knew was that his reign of terror had come to an end."

Sirius pointed at the scar on Harry's forehead. "That's where the curse hit you. I'm afraid a lot of people are going to be staring at it."

"That's actually the only thing I like about my appearance," Harry admitted.

"Don't be silly," said Sirius. "You've got Lily's beautiful eyes, and you got that hair from James. His glasses were more square than round, and much bigger—very seventies—but you inherited your bad eyesight from him, too."

"I wish I could see pictures of them," said Harry ruefully.

"I'm sure we can find some," Sirius told him confidently. "At your grandparents' house, maybe, or at the old house where I grew up. Or maybe Dumbledore has something…I don't know."

"Dumbledore?"

"Oh yes, he's the Headmaster of the magic school," Sirius explained. "It's called Hogwarts, by the way. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Like I said, your school letter should be coming in about a month, and in September, that's when the school train leaves—"

"It's a boarding school?" Harry said hopefully.

"Yes." Sirius grinned. "No Muggles for ten months."

"Muggles?"

"It's what we call people who can't do magic, like your aunt, uncle and cousin," Sirius explained. "But yeah, you go away to Hogwarts and back on the school train, and the school year is ten months long. You have the fall, spring and summer terms, and it's your choice of whether you want to go home for Christmas or not…I guess you won't."

"That sounds great," said Harry. "Too bad I have to wait so long…"

"I know, but in the meantime," Sirius continued, "I was thinking I might go clothes shopping with you."

"What?"

"Well, I know I bought you clothes at the zoo, but that really wasn't enough," Sirius explained. "How about this Saturday?"

"I-I don't know," Harry said uncertainly.

"If your parents were still alive, they would have bought you clothes that fit, I guarantee you," Sirius said firmly. "I will do the same. Besides, both my parents are dead too, and they left me a huge inheritance. I got a hefty wad of compensation for being falsely locked up in Azkaban, too. So it's not like I don't have the money for it."

"Well…okay." Harry was happy at the thought of always having clothes that fit. "Thanks, Sirius."