Harry made sure to press his bangs very flat over his scar. Maybe as long as he did that, nobody would notice him. After all, the scar was the only way people could recognize him, right? He'd only been a baby when he defeated Voldemort…but wait, if anyone knew James, they would know Harry as well…Harry was glad for once that he was so short, and he clung to Sirius's hand and kept his head down as they walked inside.

"Ah, I was wondering when I'd see you again, Sirius!" called the bartender. Harry thought he looked like a toothless walnut. "You haven't aged a day, have you?"

"You flatter me, Tom," said Sirius flatly. "But a drink would be lovely after all those years in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?" said Harry.

"The wizard prison," Sirius whispered.

"What'll you have?" Tom asked.

"One butterbeer, please, and one regular beer," said Sirius, digging some gold out of his pocket. "Thanks."

"Are you sure?" Tom asked jokingly as his eyes drifted to Harry, who flattened his bangs again nervously. "I don't know if your little friend could drink that much…butterbeer's pretty strong stuff, you know…"

"That's not nice," said Sirius. "Bang it on the table, Tom, please."

Tom the innkeeper nodded and started to make the drinks.

"I don't think I'm old enough to drink anything with alcohol in it," Harry said nervously.

"Don't worry, Tom was just joking," said Sirius. "Butterbeer is alcoholic, yes, but only a tiny bit. You'd have to drink a gallon of it before it could get you tipsy."

"I'm 4'2" and I weigh barely sixty pounds," Harry reminded him. "It won't take as much to get me drunk as it will for you."

Sirius shrugged. "If you try it, you'll love it."

Harry took a sip of the butterbeer, and he was glad for it; this was definitely the most delicious drink he had ever had. It didn't take him long to finish the whole mug, and Sirius paid for him to get a refill, smiling as he finished his own regular beer.

Once they were done with their drinks, Harry was relieved; nobody seemed to have recognized him. It wasn't entirely unexpected—the pub was dark, and Harry was short, and he had been constantly pressing his bangs over his scar. But in his excitement to thank Tom for the delicious drink, he completely forgot. Lily's beautiful green eyes, James's messy hair and Harry's unique curse scar were unmistakable.

"Can it be…Harry Potter?" he whispered, in a voice filled with awe. Sirius nodded slightly.

"Um, yes," Harry said uncomfortably. "That's me."

Harry tried to remember Sirius's warning about being unintentionally famous, but his head was clouding as people surrounded him.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter," said Tom, seizing Harry's hand, his eyes filled with tears. "Welcome back."

"Back to the Wizarding world," Sirius clarified loudly. "Of course, I was of the opinion that he should never have left to begin with, but nobody consulted me…"

Harry was soon shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. People just couldn't seem to get enough of him. He tried to remember his self-confidence, but it was escaping him…What had Sirius told him? Something about Voldermort…about not saying his name…and they certainly were staring at his scar, all of them were…

Sirius was beginning to look irritated.

"Move along, everyone, we have business in Gringotts," he shouted, "and they close in less than an hour! Come on—he's not a zoo exhibit—no shoving—let me through!"

"Come back and see us sometime, Harry!" called a witch who looked to be about seventeen years old and possibly drunk.

"Really!" snapped Sirius as they stepped through the bar and out the back door into a sort of courtyard. There was only a trash can and a few weeds.

"I guess you weren't joking about paparazzi," Harry said weakly.

"Nope, I was as serious as a shark attack," Sirius replied roughly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his motorcycle jacket. "It was Dumbledore's idea, you know. I reckon he wanted you to grow up around Muggles because you were too young for fame. But I didn't agree…I knew it meant that once you turned eleven and were old enough for Hogwarts, all the fame would be dumped on you at once, not to mention the fact that our world even exists at all. How is that better?"

"I have the feeling there's no right answer to that question," said Harry.

"Well, time's a-wasting, we've got to get to the bank," said Sirius shortly, taking out his wand. He looked at the brick wall in front of him closely, counting bricks, then tapped it three times. Harry gaped as the bricks opened to form an archway, which Sirius and Harry could fit through easily.

Sirius grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him along, checking the gold wristwatch on his free arm as they walked along. (Gringotts closed at half-past five.) Harry couldn't believe at first that Sirius wasn't looking, but then he reminded himself that Sirius had been, essentially, Wizarding royalty. To him, buying a cauldron or some spellbooks in Diagon Alley was no more exciting than picking up a pack of breath mints at a drugstore.

Harry was straining on Sirius's hand by now—he couldn't help it. There was so much to look at, and Sirius was walking so fast. There were places that sold cauldrons, owls, spellbooks, an apothecary…Sirius had to pull Harry along because Harry wanted to slow down and look at everything in Diagon Alley. Even the witches and wizards doing their shopping were interesting. Everything in the Muggle world seemed completely bland in comparison.

Finally they reached a snowy white marble building. It towered over all the little shops of Diagon Alley. Harry did a double take when he saw who was guarding the doors; could that really be a goblin? The goblin was wearing a scarlet-and-gold uniform. His fingers and toes were very long and he had a pointed beard. Harry was about a head taller than he was.

Sirius and Harry approached Gringotts, and the goblin bowed them inside. When they got through those bronze doors, they encountered another set of doors, this time silver. Harry looked and saw that there was a poem:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of wait awaits the sin of greed

For those who take, but do not earn

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"It's impossible to successfully steal from this bank," said Sirius. "Even if somehow you managed to break into someone else's vault, you'd be trapped forever and you'd starve to death."

"So we're here to find what my parents left for me?" Harry asked.

"Yes," said Sirius, "but first we need to find your parents' safe deposit box. The safest place in the world to keep anything—well, for a wizard, anyway—is Gringotts. I'm sure your parents' wills are in their safe deposit box."

Once they were in the bank, Harry couldn't help staring at the goblins, but Sirius wasted no time in going up to the front desk and consulting a free goblin.

"Ah, Sirius Black," said the goblin shrewdly. "Rumor has it you got out on a plea bargain."

"I most certainly did not," said Sirius sharply. "I hope you don't spread such false truths. I got an appeal, and they were able to prove me innocent."

"How?" said the goblin. "You blew up a whole street!"

What?! Thought Harry, but he knew from experience never to interrupt adults when they were talking, even if one of them was a goblin.

"No," said Sirius. "I was framed. They used a Pensieve on me—took the memory of my arrest right out of my head and watched it."

"Who framed you?" asked the goblin.

"Peter Pettigrew," said Sirius. "We switched Secret-Keepers at the last minute. You see, the Fidelius Charm is broken if the Secret-Keeper is killed, and everyone was sure I'd be the Secret-Keeper—I was probably the worst choice. So we decided to switch to Peter, and just not tell anyone about it. That way, if I was killed, the Potters would still be safe, because the Death Eaters would have gotten the wrong man. They didn't believe me until I let them pull that memory out of my head, too."

Pensieve? Secret-Keepers? Fidelius Charm? Death Eaters? Harry didn't know what any of these things were, but he tried to let Sirius and the goblin finish their conversation. It was lucky nobody was in line behind them.

"Ah, so that's why you blasted Pettigrew to bits," said the goblin. "Revenge."

"I meant to," said Sirius, "but here's the thing. I happen to know Peter is an illegal Animagus—he turns into a rat. I tracked him down around Cornwall, and I was just about to curse him when bam, he did it first, and then sped down the sewer with the other rats. I expect he's with a Wizarding family now, just so he'll know if his master ever comes back."

Sirius sounded disgusted, in a way Harry had never seen before. The goblin, however, seemed to enjoy gossiping.

"Bad idea, Sirius," he said, grinning. "Vigilantism is still illegal. You could have just captured him or something like that…didn't you realize you were facing jail time? An insanity plea would have been your only hope, and even that's a long shot."

"Well, there was nothing else to live for, was there?" Sirius shot back. "James dead, Lily dead, I wasn't allowed to keep Harry…It wouldn't have made any difference."

"Surely the Ministry are after Pettigrew, though, now that they know he's alive."

"They sure are." Sirius nodded. "Faking his own death, being an illegal Animagus, double murder of the second degree…he's in hot water."

"I don't know if any of those things carry a life sentence, though," commented the goblin.

"Being a Death Eater does," said Sirius shortly.

"It's already fifteen till, I suppose we'd better get what you came here for, then," sighed the goblin. "What'll it be? Withdrawal?"

"Not today," said Sirius. "I came to open the Potters' safe deposit box."

"Ah…you'll need a court order for that," the goblin informed him.

"No, I won't," said Sirius. "I'm their revocable living trust."

"Where are the safe deposit boxes?" Harry asked. "Are they in a vault, too?"

"Vault 687, your dad's vault—well, it's yours, now," Sirius replied. "The safe deposit box is in that vault, too."

The goblin at the counter called over another goblin, this one named Griphook, who held the door open for him and Sirius. They were in a narrow stone passageway, and torches were the only source of light. Griphook whistled for a cart and then down, down the cart sped. Harry kept his eyes wide open, looking at everything around him. The cart stopped by Harry's vault, and they all climbed out.

"You have a copy of the key?" asked Griphook.

Sirius nodded and held it up. Griphook took the key and unlocked the door; Harry was faced with billowing green smoke, and then…

"All that gold? It's all mine?" Harry gasped.

"It sure is," said Sirius. "Now let's see…"

Sirius clambered to the back of the vault while Harry wandered around the coins, picking them up and examining them. Were they really all his? After he was done looking, he walked over to Sirius, who was now opening the Potters' safe deposit box.

"What's in there?" said Harry.

Sirius smiled at the first thing they saw. It looked like a piece of parchment paper, very square and large. There was nothing written on it.

"I'm sure James wouldn't have minded if you kept his copy," said Sirius, pressing the parchment into Harry's hands.

"What is it?" said Harry.

"It's called the Marauders' Map," said Sirius, taking out his wand. "You tap it with your wand and say these words—'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'—and then…"

After Sirius had tapped the map and said the words, that was when it actually began to look like a map, with "Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs" all listed as the cartographers.

"Or in your case, Uncle Remus, Stinkbomb, Godfather and Dad," Sirius finished. "We each had one, all four of us. Peter's got confiscated at school, but I have mine in my safe deposit box and I'm sure Remus does too…"

The most amazing thing about the map was that it showed where everyone was walking. Sirius explained that it was a map of Hogwarts, the magic school.

"The four of us knew the school better than anyone," Sirius continued. "We knew it inside and out. Now you can use this map in your magical mischief-making."

"Mischief-making?"

"Well, with James for a father, how could you not be a troublemaker?" Sirius grinned and squeezed Harry's shoulder. Sirius showed Harry how to wipe the map ("Mischief Managed") and Harry stuck the map in his pocket. Sirius kept digging in the box; Harry presumed he was looking for the wills. Finally, he found them. James's was first.

Harry watched Sirius read, eyes narrowed, as if proofreading. Then his eyes widened, and he almost dropped the piece of paper in shock.

"What is it?" Harry tried to see, but he was too short. Sirius, one hand over his heart, gave Harry the will.

Last Will and Testament

Article 2, Guardianship of Minor

It is my request that the permanent guardianship and power-of-attorney of my son Harry James Potter be given to my close friend, Sirius Orion Black.

My second recommendation is Andromeda Tonks.

My third recommendation is Albus Dumbledore.

"My aunt and uncle aren't anywhere on here!" said Harry, shocked.

"There was a mix-up when you were born." Sirius sighed. "Nobody consulted me, even though I was sure you were supposed to go to me. For some reason, Albus Dumbledore wanted you with the Muggles. I had no idea James wrote it in his will, though…"

"What does this mean?" Harry asked.

"It means we need a lawyer," Sirius answered.