A/N I know. I know. Its been forever since I updated this story. But after riding my muse a little too hard, she packed her bags and left one day in a huff. So for a while, I was muse-less and uninspired. I had forgotten how much I love to do this and Harry was being stubborn and not letting me write him. However, Sirius must have scolded him because he's finally back and playing nicely again. Also my muse returned looking rested and tan from her tropical sabbatical, although she is still not always speaking to me civilly. So be gentle, dear readers. I am woefully out of practice and just looking to get my feet wet again until ideas start to flow naturally. This return chapter is brief as I was just flexing my writing muscles a little. They are horribly out of shape.
Apologies for the long wait. And thanks to all the people who sent PMs asking me back because truthfully that is what made me decide to jump in again.
Also, to those who read but can't seem to remember, my Harry can be a naughty boy who occasionally gets his bum smacked. If that's not your cup of tea, please drink elsewhere. If you have trouble comprehending that blunt and simple warning, and you read anyway and then screech child abuse at me later, I assure you that I will assume you are just illiterate and your uneducated opinions mean nothing to me, so save your typing fingers. This is my creation, its for my enjoyment and that of the people who appreciate my work. The last time I checked, there were millions of stories on this site, so please go find something else that you may actually enjoy.
To everyone else, I genuinely hope you are please by my return and please feel free to badger me to deliver more if you want it. I can be a bit lazy if not pushed.
*********************HP***********
"Rita Skeeter."
The name sounded vaguely familiar to Harry, although he couldn't immediately place it. Confused, he shot a quick glance up at his infuriated godfather's face. Clearly, Sirius was acquainted with the middle aged bottle blonde, and not at all in a good way. Sirius' silver eyes were sparking with hatred and Harry thought he caught the smallest hint of a feral growl brewing deeply in his godfather's throat.
"Sirius," he whispered shakily. "Who..."
He didn't get any further before the enraged man shushed him and not-so-gently maneuvered Harry behind his larger frame, pushing the boy further out of sight with each approaching step of the snarling witch sauntering towards them. Harry was a little startled by the action. Sirius was rarely abrupt with him and never physically rough. His godfather kept a protective arm bent behind himself awkwardly encircling as much of the boy as possible.
"Sirius Black," she purred, her eyes flashing like the jewels in her spectacles. "Back from the dead. Or," she cocked her head to the side, "close enough."
She smiled, a grin of pure saccharin that didn't quite reach to her eyes. Her crocodile purse snapped open and a pad of paper and a shocking green quill flew out stopping to hover in mid air between Rita and themselves.
"Thirteen years in Azkaban, Sirius," she sneered. Pressed into Sirius' back, Harry could feel a slight tremble ripple through his godfather. Whether it was fear or rage he did not know. "You must tell me all about it. You don't mind a Quick-Quotes Quill, do you?"
Peeking around Sirius' shoulder, Harry saw the green quill fly across the pad writing in a bold script.
Sirius Black, convict, and loyal follower of You-Know-Who, looks much the worse for wear after his well deserved incarceration
The trembling Harry felt increased exponentially. Sirius' hair had lifted slightly from his shoulders as if caught by a light breeze and there seemed to be an invisible pulse radiating from the man. Harry could hear and feel his godfather's breathing intensify. Fury snaking its way through his veins like blood, Sirius glared at the offending quill and parchment and increased his grip on Harry almost to the point of making the boy wince. Deathly quiet and unnoticed by the other occupants in the room, Harry heard his godfather quietly whisper "Reducto."
Harry watched as the quill and parchment exploded, sending a shower of tiny fragments scattering to the stone floor and a small shock wave over the blond reporter. Rita stumbled on her ridiculous heels, barely keeping upright, her jeweled spectacles laying askance across her nose. For a brief moment, her pinched face registered a shocked look of fear. Out of nowhere, Dumbledore appeared and reached an arm out to steady her.
Harry gripped the back of Sirius' robes in panic. He had not even seen his godfather reach for his wand, however when he looked at Sirius' hands to check, they were still empty. He shivered involuntarily at the thought of Sirius using wandless magic with such stealth and power. Feeling the motion, Sirius increased his hold until he heard Harrry suck in a breath of pain. The small sound was enough to bring the man out of his rage and he immediately eased off, turning to make sure the boy was okay.
Inordinately pale, but otherwise fine, Sirius could see the questions beginning to form on his godson's lips, but he firmly shook his head, effectively ending any line of inquiry. Instead he guided the boy to his side and held him there, his arm wrapped protectively around Harry's small shoulders.
"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, a slight tremor in her voice as she shakily grabbed his arm and adjusted her spectacles with her other large, mannish hand. "I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore as he turned them and led her away from Sirius and Harry and over to the other champions.
Sirius turned to Harry, his silver eyes a mixture of anger, fear and worry. He gently took his godson by the shoulders, his brow furrowed in stern concentration.
"That is Rita Skeeter," he told Harry, his voice steely and cold. "She's a reporter for the Prophet. Her stories are lies and sensations, and she herself is a nasty piece of business." Harry stared at his godfather in rapt concentration. The older man looked like someone who suddenly discovered a foul taste in their mouth, his grimace becoming more pronounced with every word that he uttered. "She wouldn't hesitate to destroy you to further her own means, and exploiting you would be her personal joy," Sirius continued, glancing quickly over to where Rita was now fixated on Krum, the larger boy clearly trying to escape her clutches. "Nothing good will come from speaking with her, Harry," he said as he returned his attention to his child. "You will stay far far away from her, do you understand?"
Harry quickly nodded his head. He rarely saw his godfather in this temper. "Yes, sir," he answered obediently. Sirius gave him a little shake, the worry and rage falling off of him in waves. "I mean it, Harry James!" Harry sucked in a quick breath at the man's insistence. "Yes, sir, I promise."
After a quick heartbeat, Sirius felt his anger recede a fraction and he reached out to gently cup Harry's face. He hadn't meant to lose his temper with the boy, although a healthy dose of fear was something that his godson could do with during this competition to help keep his dangerous over confidence in check. Harry being cocky could get himself killed at several points during the tournament. Now standing by Dumbledore, Remus was shooting them both worried glances. Sirius nodded at him to assure his friend that all was well before rubbing a soothing thumb across Harry's cheek and futilely attempting to smooth down an especially unruly tuft of hair.
"Come on, little one. Time for the show," he said sadly as he led his boy over to the others.
***************HP******
The wand weighing itself was mildly entertaining but happily fairly uneventful. Harry had been genuinely pleased to see Mr. Ollivander again as the old wizard examined his wand, eventually making a fountain of wine shoot out of it. His surprise and delight at the charm made his godfather and Remus laugh themselves and it broke some of the tension for a few brief moments. Occasionally he would take a quick surreptitious glance at the other champions and their representatives. Cedric, he saw, was trying to keep a calm and confident composure. No small feat considering how much his father Amos kept pumping the boy's hand in excitement and congratulations. Mr. Diggory, it seemed, Harry thought wryly, must have forgotten that all assembled knew the reason Cedric was there because he kept reminding everyone that his son was a Triwizard Champion. Cedric's handsome face repeatedly blushed red from the paternal attention and from what little Harry knew about the other boy, the talented and affable Hufflepuff was generally modest about his abilities and achievements.
Madame Maxime and Karkarov were hovering menacingly near their champions, regarding each other like sharks in bloodied waters. Paying their handlers little attention, Fleur struck flattering poses to garner the attention of the photographer and Krum just looked bored. Each had their wand weighed and examined in turn, the older students relaxed and casual about it while Harry's own nerves buzzed and popped with inexperience. But an occasional quick smile or pat on the arm from his godfather calmed him.
Unfortunately, the champions were wanted for all manner of photographs after the wand weighing that took forever in Harry's opinion. More likely because with each flash of the photographer's camera, a new line of worry seemed to etch itself directly into his godfather's face. Eventually, Sirius' patience had worn thin and he had declared it to be enough, pulling Harry from the group and leading the boy away as he strode purposely back to the Astronomy tower, Remus in their wake.
Now, safely back in their residence, with dinner in progress, the tension started to finally fall away, although Sirius' head ached monstrously and Harry was abnormally quiet. Ron was bouncing up and down in his chair in a fair impersonation of Pig, as he read the slightly battered piece of parchment that the miniscule owl had delivered to him only moments before.
Sirius was at the small kitchen counter methodically slicing thick red Heirloom tomatoes for their salad and keeping a sharp on his his godson who was very slowly snorkling his way through a foul tasting protein drink in protest. With the increase in training, Sirius had insisted on it before dinner every day to help replenish muscles and magic. At first, Harry postured and sputtered, declaring it as vile as the drool from Hagrid's three headed dog but, unimpressed, Sirius had simply set it in front of him, threatening a sticking charm to the chair until he had drained the glass.
At the other end of the dinner table, Remus and Hermione had their heads bent over her History of Magic essay. Over the years Hermione had grown increasingly frustrated over the poor quality of her annoyingly deceased professor for the subject and Remus had kindly offered a helping hand, the two bookworms happily lost in their own little world of scholarship.
"Blech." Harry made a face and firmly shoved the large glass away from himself. Smiling, Sirius put down his knife and reached into the cold cabinet. He retrieved a large strawberry from the glass bowl in the center and handed it to his godson. Harry munched on it slowly, relieved to have the chalky, bitter, gloppy taste out of his mouth. Feeling a bit miserable and sorry for himself, he scowled at the huge silly grin on Ron's face.
"And what are you so happy, about?" he demanded, his voice a bit more cross than he intended. Hearing his godfather quietly clear his throat, the boy glanced up and saw the disapproving look on the man's face. He slouched a little further into his seat at the very subtle reprimand and not wanting to be scolded for his rudeness in front of his friends or Remus, he dropped the attitude immediately. Fortunately, Ron didn't seem to notice as he finished scanning the parchment.
"My brother Charlie is coming to visit in a fortnight," he announced happily to the rest of the table. At this news, Harry really did cheer up. Charlie was loads of fun and he knew the family didn't get to see him often enough as he was almost always in Romania. Hermione also took a moment away from her studies to look pleased, but none of the children noticed the look that quickly passed between Sirius and Remus.
"Does he usually come to visit you at Hogwarts, Ron?" Sirius posed the question with convincing casual interest as he busied himself assembling the salad.
"No," the boy enthused, his smile bright enough to light the whole castle. "That's what's so brilliant. He hasn't been to Hogwarts since the night we gave him Hagrid's dragon."
Harry groaned internally at Ron's verbal diarrhea. He hadn't told Sirius of Norberta, or of what happened the night they had the little fire breather removed from the school. Sirius shot him a glare that promised further discussion on the subject and Harry physically deflated at the prospect. Attempting to score a few brownie points with his displeased guardian, Harry stood and made his way over to the counter and began carrying bowls and platters of food over to the table.
"So does he say why he is visiting now?" Remus asked conversationally, even as he crossed out a huge section of Hermione's conclusion, earning a look of disbelief from the girl. Okay, so it may have turned a little preachy at the end, and yes, although goblins and house elves were both creatures of short stature, it may have been a little bit of a stretch to conclude that the last goblin rebellion had taken place out of a desire to support the rights of elves as fellow members of the vertically challenged.
Ron frowned at the parchment, Pig attempting to viciously nip his finger but only managing to look adorable in the process. "No. Just that he is going to be here for a day or two and wanted to let me know."
In the kitchenette, Harry bent to the lower cabinet to collect their glasses and immediately felt a quick mild sting where Sirius had swatted his bum with a tea towel. Quickly checking to make sure that no one else had noticed, Harry withered a little under his godfather's glare and was suddenly pleased that it was a school night and, as far as he knew, he would be returning to his dorm after dinner. Although he had no doubt that they would be having yet another conversation about personal safety at some point, clearly the man was in a mood and Harry was smart enough to decide that he wanted off of Sirius' radar for the rest of the evening.
Peeved at Remus' corrections, Hermione stuffed her essay back into her satchel and began to set the table, 'accidentally' hitting Ron in the back of the head with a dinner plate when he asked Harry what Fleur had been wearing during the wand weighing.
An hour or so later, after the last crumbs of sponge cake had been eaten, and with curfew fast approaching, Harry brought his plate and glass into the kitchen area where Sirius was wiping up. His godfather had been rather uncharacteristically quiet during the meal, deep in contemplation about what, Harry didn't know for sure. All he knew was that a quiet godfather never boded well for someone. Placing his plates in the sink, he looked up hopefully at the distracted man.
"Sirius? Ron and Hermione are getting ready to go back to the tower," he said softly. Sirius glanced at him and briefly nodded, his attention still distracted elsewhere. Harry frowned and swallowed the lump in his throat. "Am I allowed to go back with them?" At this his godfather turned back and paid more attention. The boy's eyes were questioning and insecure and there was just the slightest hint of a milk mustache remaining on his upper lip. Sirius smiled indulgently and gently wiped Harry's mouth with his own sleeve. "Of course you can, little one." He took Harry by the chin and gazed at him affectionately. "You're going to be careful and behave, yes?" Harry relaxed and released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. "Yes, sir."
Sirius gave him a hug, holding him just a little bit closer than he normally did when saying good night and Harry allowed it as it had been a stressful day and a hug was always better than a telling off. When his godfather released him, he and his friends collected their belongings and bid their farewells. Sirius held the door for them and watched as they made their way down the staircase, joking amongst themselves. Still standing there, he heard the approach of his best friend and his smile faltered.
"What do you think the odds are of Charlie Weasley coming for just a casual visit on the eve of the first task?" he asked the man standing by his side.
Remus didn't even hesitate in his answer. "None whatsoever."
Sirius' eyes grew stormy and troubled as he closed the door. "I didn't think so either."