Harry Potter and TGTL: Fourth Year

by KappaIota

Sequel to Harry Potter and the Godfather that Lived. AU Fourth Year with Harry facing the Tri-Wizard Tournament, his first crush, Voldemort's return and an overprotective guardian. As with the original, will include teen discipline themes/adult language

34. Chapter 34

A/N I'm sure this chapter is a hot hot mess but I'm editing on my mobile and going blind and i really needed to just publish it already. Forgive any glaring errors that I will fix tomorrow when i can see again! More and more exposition and backstories! Sorry if it rambles. Only one Harry and Sirius scene :(

Thanks for the nice reviews! You all keep me motivated! But to the guest reviewers who leave negative reviews: I don't mind negative reviews as long they are not just flames, but if you are going to criticize the story, have the guts to use an account where a response can be given. No one likes an internet troll.

************HP**********************

It had been a long time since his last visit to the large manor sheltered behind a thick copse of brilliant green trees which kept anyone traveling the quiet country road from seeing it properly.

The house itself was a very pretty structure in the Georgian style. A stately elegance to it that fit the personality of its current mistress who was raised to value tradition and proper manners. It wasn't what one would necessarily think of a home for a wizarding family, with its decidedly staid and normal appearance, but for the last twenty-three years that's exactly what it had been.

Once upon a time Ted Tonks, a portly little blond boy with a cowlick that couldn't be tamed for love nor money, came to Hogwarts as a traditional eleven-year-old First Year student. Unlike his Pure-blood and half-blood peers, however, little Ted came from an upper class non-magical family of physicians and politicians.

His great-great grandfather had been Baron Something-Or-Another, from a long line of Muggle aristocrats. At one point Ted had told Sirius the full title, but it didn't really matter that he couldn't remember what it was since Ted would never inherit it.

According to the rules of British nobility, which almost always favored male-line primogeniture, the Barony title could only be passed down to a son. This exceptionally unfair practice prohibited Ted's great-grandmother, who had been an only child, from ever becoming Baroness in her own right. It was a loss for the members of the family who cared about such things, but not for the last Baron himself who had adored his daughter more than his coronet.

Although the title would die out with no direct male heir to it, nothing stopped the Baron from passing his money and properties, including the grand manor house, down to his daughter and her family after her. Which meant that eventually all the material wealth made its way down the line first to Ted's father and then to Ted himself.

Ted was a kind, soft spoken boy who mostly kept to himself, although he was always happy to help out if any of his fellow Ravenclaws needed a study partner or a sympathetic ear or a healing spell for the minor cuts and scrapes they inevitably acquired as they stumbled around the stone corridors with their heads in their books.

He was far too shy to flirt with girls, but that didn't necessarily stop him from noticing them.

After an incredibly awkward adolescence that saw him kiss exactly one girl, a fellow Ravenclaw who was just curious to see what the fuss was all about, Ted eventually grew up into a handsome young man who could be funny and charming when he wanted to. He was whip-smart, with a knack for potions and a desire to help people, and no one was surprised when he followed in the footsteps of some of his ancestors and took up medicine.

A naturally gifted healer with a big heart, he was well liked and very successful, although love still eluded him.

That changed when, as a Trainee-Healer, he was working a double shift in the emergency room at St. Mungo's. He'd just finished wolfing down a quick sandwich after spelling a splinched foot back on when a beautiful girl with the most amazing full head of cascading brown curls brought in her best friend in for treatment after a cauldron explosion badly burned her arm.

For a second, Ted's heart forgot how to beat.

If he lived to be a thousand years old, he never would have forgotten how stunning Andromeda Black was.

He'd secretly admired her during the last four years of their time at school together, and the two years since his graduation had only improve her looks. A year younger than Ted was himself, and fiercely protected by her Slytherin housemates who would never have let a Mudblood anywhere near her, Ted had never managed to summon up the courage to do more than pine at a distance.

There was a reason Ted hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor after all.

But suddenly there she was, in his domain where he was matured, confident and very comfortable in his skin, and somewhere between saving her friend's wand arm and catching up on their post-Hogwarts years, Ted finally found his inner dormant lion and invited Andromeda out for dinner.

Their shared chemistry was instantaneous.

Ted was no longer the timid bookworm that couldn't form a coherent sentence in the presence of a pretty girl, and Andromeda had grown tired of her family's fanaticism of blood supremacy and their open practice of the dark arts. She knew that it wasn't who she wanted to be, despite her parents' daily push that she enter into a respectable but almost certainly loveless pure-blood marriage like her older sister had done.

Andromeda was cunning and resourceful, just as a Slytherin ought to be. She was raised to be proud, traditional and just a bit haughty as befitted someone of her station, but she'd always lacked the inherent malevolence and cruelty that so many others in her family and in her family's inner circle of friends possessed.

With her beautiful smile, graceful carriage and correct manners, she skillfully avoided arousing suspicion of her vehement distaste for the pure-blood ways. She played the game well. Always careful to never let her true feelings and opinions be known. She was a Black, after all, so in simply saying nothing it had always been just accepted that she shared the same opinions and viewpoints of her family.

The only person able to correctly guess that Andromeda was not as enamored of the old ways as she appeared to be was her older sister Bellatrix who had already become a fanatical follower of an emerging powerful dark lord. She bullied and threatened Andromeda with exposure unless she openly fell into line. Preferably with a marriage to Rabastan LeStrange, the younger brother to Bellatrix's own husband Rodolphus.

Andromeda, however, was a match for her older sister in talent and determination and she wouldn't be forced into anything. It helped that she was the favorite daughter of their father Cygnus, who thoroughly approved of Bellatrix's respectable marriage but was not quite ready to follow his eldest daughter's lead in swearing fealty to the self-titled Lord Voldemort.

Cygnus had faith in Andromeda's loyalty to their family so he shielded her from Bellatrix's steadily growing temper and allowed her more liberty to choose a husband of her own taste, just as long as it was someone on the approved list of candidates. Bella had always been a bit of a harpy, even as a little girl, and she clearly didn't love her husband, although she liked his viewpoints and the size of his family's vault.

Their father wanted something better for Andromeda, who had always been warmer and more gentle than her older sister. Because Cygnus loved his own wife Druella deeply, which was not usually a given for their kind of people, he felt strongly that when the time was right Andromeda would wed the person who could offer her the same happiness in marriage.

A smart and observant man, Cygnus Black wasn't often mistaken in his assessment of a person's character, and he certainly had judged his daughter's opinion of marriage correctly, although he was completely wrong when it came to thinking that she shared his same principles.

There was just something about the easy-going young healer with the quick wit and deep blue eyes that seemed to look directly into Andromeda's soul. She knew that it was absolute madness to even be seen in public anywhere near him, let alone date him, and when she found herself hopelessly falling in love with Ted Tonks, she knew without a doubt that she was about to cross a very dangerous line.

Andromeda was an exceptionally clever young woman, and with a bit of luck she managed to hide her blossoming romance with Ted for a full thirteen months with no one else the wiser.

The young lovers met in secret. Short, sweet blissful rendezvous that took place mostly in the Muggle world where there was less chance of them being discovered. They talked books and music and poetry, not blood purity and family obligation. Andromeda learned to cook simple meals at Ted's London flat, nearly setting the place on fire more than once, and he did the washing up before they slow danced to the music on his gramophone.

At night, when Andromeda was supposed to be at one society function or another, she was really in Ted's bed, dreaming of a peaceful and loving future with him while he worshiped her body.

Druella was actually the first to suspect that her middle daughter had a steady paramour, and her growing insistence that Andromeda settle down with one of the distant cousins that had been chosen for her as potential spouses meant that the clandestine meetings with Ted were getting harder to pull off without being discovered.

Too often Andromeda would come home after a day out and about, feigning a shopping trip or a social tea with one of her girlfriends, and find that yet another young pure-blood man had been invited to dinner as her date. One of the most frequent guests was Lucius Malfoy. A slick-talking pompous arse who spent far too much time preening over his own appearance and asking intrusive questions about Andromeda's baby sister Narcissa who was still at school.

Andromeda detested him, but it didn't stop Druella from singing his praises.

She knew that she could only hold off her increasingly frustrated mother for just so long before the truth about her involvement with a Muggleborn would have to come out, and so she began to make plans as to the best way to go about it without getting Ted killed by the men of the family who wouldn't think twice about making sure that a tainted blood interloper suddenly just...disappeared.

But as often happens in situations such as these, fate intervened when one day Andromeda found herself unexpectedly pregnant with Ted's child.

Far from being distressed over the news of the impending arrival, despite the disapproval they knew they would face with the Black family, both Andromeda and Ted were absolutely thrilled, with Ted immediately producing his great-grandmother's four carat antique diamond engagement ring out of the top drawer of his desk. Fortunately the members of the Tonks family were far more welcoming than Andromeda's and the happy couple took comfort in the fact that their child would have at least one set of grandparents welcoming it.

Having been raised on a steady diet of the importance of blood supremacy and the borderline inbreeding necessary to maintain it, Andromeda knew without a doubt that her toffee-nosed and money-hungry pure-blood family would never tolerate her marriage to a filthy Mudblood, even if he came from wealth that rivaled their own. But she drew strength from the tiny person growing inside of her to go and fight for Ted and the life she wanted to have with him.

She waited until her father was in as good a mood as Cygnus ever got and then made the announcement that he was about to be a grandfather.

It only took a split second for him to discern that the father of his unborn grandchild was not among the young men who made regular pilgrimages to his family's dinner table. Upon breaking the news of her engagement to Muggleborn Ted Tonks, Andromeda's once affectionate and indulgent father backhanded his favorite daughter so hard that Andromeda flew halfway across the Persian carpeted floor of their stately parlor and straight into the hard, unforgiving wood of an antique mahogany credenza.

She was ordered to immediately cease all contact with the Mudblood on the pain of disinheritance and disgrace, while Cygnus bellowed for his wife and commanded her to do whatever it took to get that thing out of his daughter.

But Andromeda, like so many other young women before her, already fiercely protective of the innocent child in her womb and hopelessly and irrevocably in love with a good man, firmly refused the command. Her hair and clothing disheveled and her face bruised and bleeding, she raised her wand against her father in her own defense which shocked Cygnus so much that he was momentarily paralyzed.

Andromeda, her silver eyes steely with determination, took advantage of his stunned inaction to pick herself up from the floor and she left her childhood home with her pockets empty but her head held high while her mother quietly wept and her father loudly raged.

It was fortunate for the young couple that Cygnus still harbored a deep love for his child, even in his fury. Had he been the least bit receptive to the idea, Bellatrix and her in-laws would have been happy to show Andromeda the error of her ways, but Bellatrix wasn't foolish enough to go against her father's wishes as long as there was a chance that he would turn to her Dark Lord in his disappointment of her sister's betrayal.

Ted and Andromeda were married a few weeks later in the garden behind the Tonks family manor with only Ted's Muggle family and some of his co-workers from St. Mungo's in attendance. Resplendent in a couture wedding dress generously paid for by her soon-to-be in-laws, the expecting bride was glowing, the groom absolutely head over heels in love with her, and as she danced with her new husband against a backdrop of flaming pinks and oranges of the setting sun, Andromeda Tonks closed a chapter of her life for good.

At only fourteen, Sirius obviously hadn't been allowed to attend the wedding, even though he and his older cousin had always been relatively close and he was secretly thrilled at her bravery for bucking their dark family's evil traditions. He was however treated to the endless screeching of his mother on the day, bemoaning the shame of her blood traitor niece's marriage to anyone who could stand listening to her for more than a second.

Walburga also seemed especially intent on taking her disgust out on her own shameful offspring as a sort of compensation for her perceived insult to the family name. She'd ruthlessly blasted Andromeda's name off the family tree at Grimmauld Place and then went looking for another target to vent her rage.

Sirius had sported a vast array of technicolor bruises for a week.

Despite being brutally punished for Andromeda's transgressions, Sirius missed his cousin more than any other Black did, including her two hateful sisters. Ever since he was a small child, Andromeda had regularly demonstrated a soft spot for him. Always treating him with incredible kindness and as much maternal warmth as someone who was only a young girl herself could. Probably because anyone with half a brain could see that Walburga wasn't really the motherly sort, even under the best of circumstances.

There was just something about Sirius that always made Andromeda think the young boy would be very different from the rest of their family right from the beginning.

He was a little devil, to be sure, but unlike the other children in their family, Sirius' mischief had never been hateful in nature. His tricks and pranks had been purely for innocent fun and had never involved any sort of pain or injury for the target of his impishness. Not like their cousins Evan and Felix Rosier who took sick and sadistic pleasure in inflicting misery on their victims.

During his later teen years while Sirius was spending the holidays with the Potters, he and James had been able to occasionally visit Ted and Andromeda at the manor house.

They were always very warmly welcomed, especially by Andromeda who was now very content to be a full-time stay-at-home Mum to their daughter Nymphadora. Little Dora adored the older boys who would routinely shift into their animagus forms to romp around the grounds of the estate with her. Sirius trusted Andromeda and Ted implicitly with their secret, especially since, as a rare metamorphmagus, Nymphadora had a secret of her own.

The Tonks' daughter's particular gift became the subject of several heated discussions between Andromeda and her mother during one of Druella's clandestine visits. Risking the wrath of her husband for bucking his decree that Andromeda be entirely shunned by their family, Druella refused to be kept from her only grandchild, no matter the unsavory blood of the child's father.

But she also couldn't even begin to agree to fight her daughter's corner when Andromeda and Ted made the argument that there had to be magic somewhere in the Tonks family ancestry.

Metamorphmagi were practically unheard of in the wizarding world as it was. Born with their abilities, it was commonly accepted that the trait was something that had to be inherited, since it was impossible to learn how to become one, unlike an animagus.

The simple and unavoidable fact of the matter was that there had never been a recorded birth of a metamorphmagus in either the Black family or the Rosier family as far back as the lines stretched, which meant that little Dora's unique talent had to have come from her father. Regardless, Druella wasn't about to risk the life of her granddaughter anymore than it already was.

Cygnus wanted nothing to do with the little girl, although Druella would swear that her husband was also sneaking away occasionally to get a glimpse of both Andromeda and Dora when he thought no one was paying attention. But Bellatrix and Rodolphus both seemed to have an unhealthy curiosity about their niece, so Druella was careful to avoid any mention of her.

Druella died when Nymphadora was only four years old, which left Bellatrix to take over for her mother in ensuring that Narcissa was properly married. Lucius Malfoy had never stopped calling around their family home and had always been a better age and fit for Narcissa than he ever was for Andromeda. Through her other connections Bellatrix knew that the Malfoys badly wanted an alliance with the Blacks.

After the loss of his daughter to her tainted marriage and then his wife to a ravaging bout with Dragon Pox, Cygnus retreated from all public life.

He had already been estranged from his older brother by the time Alphard died a month after Druella. The brothers had fallen out because of Cygnus disowning his daughter years earlier and Cygnus never really understood why Alphard was so angry at him when it was Andromeda who had brought shame to the family. It wasn't until Alphard's will was read, leaving everything to their sister Walburga's also disowned son Sirius, that Cygnus finally understood that Andromeda wasn't alone in her views.

He died alone in his grand manor house, bitter and full of regrets, having never met his only granddaughter.

Today Andromeda herself answered the manor's door when Sirius rang the bell. He hadn't seen her in thirteen years but time had been very kind to her as it tended to be for the members of their family. Her hair was pulled back in some sort of complicated and flattering knot and she was wearing an intricately stitched and obviously expensive day robe that spoke to her refined taste.

Unfortunately for Sirius, who had been looking forward to re-connecting with his favorite cousin, Andromeda's beautiful face fell the minute she saw him.

"I can go if you prefer," he said with a sad smile, ready to take his leave.

Andromeda shook her head, her silver eyes glistening with the beginning of tears as she reached out to take both of his hands into hers.

"I don't know whether I yearned for this moment or dreaded it. Probably a little of both."

The two of them just stood for a moment and looked at each other before Sirius breached the threshold of the double oak door and pulled his cousin into a warm embrace. Unable to hold back any longer, Andromeda wept and laughed, clinging tightly to one of the few people she loved outside of her husband and daughter. In danger of losing his own composure, Sirius pulled back and held her at arms length and admired her timeless beauty.

"How are you Andromeda? You're looking very well."

"You're very kind, Cousin," Andromeda laughed as she tugged him inside. "But as you can see, we all grow older. Well, except you apparently. You're just as dashing as always."

Chuckling softly, Sirius allowed her to lead him inside until they were sitting down on the chintz covered sofas of Andromeda's front parlor. The room was just as Sirius remembered it. As warm and welcoming as its inhabitants.

"How are Ted and Nymphadora doing? She must be quite a young woman by now."

A quick pain flashed through Andromeda's eyes as she couldn't help but think of how young Dora was the last time Sirius had seen her. Her heart ached for all of the unnecessarily lost years that they could have shared as a family.

"Very well, thank you," she answered, a bit melancholy. "Ted just expanded his practice again. You know that he can't say No to anyone. And Nymphadora just finished her training at the Auror Academy. Seems you weren't the only member of our family to feel a need to bring the darkness into the light."

"An auror?" Sirius was surprised and impressed. "For some reason I'd always thought of her following in Ted's footsteps. She was forever trying to use that toy wand she had to diagnose me and James whenever we stopped in for a visit."

He chuckled fondly from the memory until it became apparent that Andromeda's careful happy facade was beginning to crumble. He would have preferred that their conversation didn't take the turn it was about to, but he accepted that it probably needed to at least once before they could begin to reforge their relationship.

Sirius watched his cousin swallow hard and steel herself to proffer the wholly inadequate apology she knew was the very least she owed him.

"I'm so sorry, Sirius. More than I can ever possibly say. Can you forgive me for my exceptionally bad judgment and letting you down so horribly?"

Sirius wanted to be angry with her. Really he did. He'd actually spent years in his cell holding out hope that one of the few members of his family who didn't hate Sirius for his allegiance to the Light would try and fight for him. When Andromeda never came to visit him and he never received even a message from her telling him to hold on until he could be freed, he finally realized that he was truly on his own.

"It's not as if you didn't have reason," he rationalized, able to be more generous now that he was out of prison. "It was a turbulent time for us all, and with the madness that prevails in our accursed family, it wasn't a hard stretch of the imagination to believe the lies being printed about me when I had no way to refute them."

"But I knew what kind of person you were," she said sadly. "I'd always known, from the time you were a little boy. You never went along with the others and their evil games. Not even when Walburga hurt you so badly for refusing."

Somewhere along the line, Andromeda had let her disdain for the Black family in general taint her opinion of Sirius' innocence. Years of being cast out by the people who were supposed to love her had made her very jaded, and when her own sister went to prison for torturing two good people into insanity, Andromeda simply wanted nothing more to do with any of them.

Even Sirius.

"You had your own family to worry about at the time, Andromeda. With that climate, Ted was always in danger because of his Muggleborn status. And who knows what those animals might have done to Dora if they'd gotten their grimy hands on her. I understood where your priorities had to lie."

Andromeda didn't deserve to have Sirius excuse her like that.

While he spoke the truth, and there had been times when she didn't sleep at night worrying about whether or not her husband would make it home safely from a shift at the hospital in case a Death Eater got a hold of him, her fear for her husband and daughter should not have made her forget the good person her cousin had always been.

"I'll be honest with you and say that things might have been different if I'd seen Dumbledore take up for you," she finally explained, knowing that it was a feeble excuse to say the least. "I knew how protective he was of his Order members, so when even he said you were guilty, I didn't think I had any choice but to believe it."

"Yes. His position certainly complicated things," Sirius spat out with uncharacteristic bitterness. "Especially after he went to bat for Severus Snape, bleating on and on about redemption and second chances. I admit that I'm not quite so charitable about that, all things considered."

"I can imagine not."

Sirius was clearly very upset by this topic of conversation, so Andromeda, always a gracious hostess, called for tea and changed the subject.

"So tell me about Harry. I remember the few times you and James Potter brought him over to visit before...well...you know. He was always such a sweet, happy boy."

"He's wonderful," Sirius beamed, his eyes shining with happiness now. "A really great kid. He could have gone an entirely different way after being raised the way he was, but he chose to be a kind and decent person. I'm exceptionally lucky to get to have him with me now."

Among the many fanciful stories told about the Potters, there had always been a strong rumor in their world that the famous Boy-Who-Lived was being raised by his Muggle family. At the time, Andromeda had still been bitter about what she thought was Sirius' betrayal of his best friend and his wife and she'd been happy to hear that little Harry was safe from her cousin. But now that she knew the truth, she bemoaned their cruel separation, because Sirius had always, in fact, been the very best of the Blacks.

"Harry's lucky to have you as well," she assured her cousin "From the time you were a young boy I couldn't help thinking that you'd make a wonderful father someday if given the chance. Merlin knows you tried hard enough to care for Regulus before Walburga sunk her poisonous claws into him so deep."

"I wish things had turned out differently with Reg," Sirius admitted, taking the teacup he was offered and adding a splash of milk. "Sometimes Harry reminds me a lot of him, only Harry has James' strong sense of right and wrong. He'd never allow himself to be led to the darkness, no matter who was trying to push him there."

His words could help but make Andromeda think of her two sisters, both of whom had willingly thrown their lot in with Voldemort and his crowd of blood thirsty heathens. At least she knew that Bellatrix followed the dark wizard willingly enough. The jury was still out on Narcissa as Andromeda held out hope that her baby sister had only done what she needed to do to appease that fop she married.

"I'd like to meet him again, now that he's older, if you'd allow it," she asked timidly. "From the photos I've seen of him in the Prophet, he could be James' twin at that age."

"He could," Sirius agreed fondly. "But his temperament is all Lily. Sweet and kind one minute and fired up and spitting nails the next. He's my entire world."

She could see the love and affection written all over her cousin's face. Not that she was surprised. Sirius had been just as good with baby Harry as he'd been with Dora at that age. Playful and indulgent. Just a big kid playing with the little ones.

"You two should come over for dinner. I'm sure I have some photos of you both from a few of your visits, and I would like to get to know him better."

Sirius' eyes were sparkling with mischief as his mouth curled up into half a smirk. Andromeda recognized the face from Sirius' childhood which always signified that he was about to ask her for something and wasn't planning on taking no for an answer.

"Well, it's funny you should mention it," he started, confirming her suspicions. "I actually came here to ask a great favor of you. Two favors, to be completely honest."

"Whatever I can do, Sirius," she answered immediately. "You know that. It would mean a great deal to me if you gave me the chance to make up for the past."

"We've decided to undergo the adoption ritual. I hadn't actually planned on it, you can imagine why, but it seems to be terribly important to Harry."

Andromeda beamed as she got up from her seat and threw her arms around her cousin's neck in congratulation. Sirius hugged her back tightly, a smile on his face so wide it felt like it could have stretch across the entire room.

"That's wonderful, Sirius. I'm sure it would please James greatly."

At those words her cousin stilled in her arms and her heart skipped a beat as she feared that she somehow said something amiss.

"I'm not so sure." Sirius pulled back and a deep frown of trepidation replaced the joy that had just been there scant seconds ago. "Andromeda, you know how our adoptions work. How can I just displace him like that? Harry was so incredibly precious to him. You've never seen a father as taken with their child as James was when Harry was born."

"My dear cousin," she soothed, taking his hand in hers and rubbing it gently, "it seems crass to say this, but I think we both know that James was a very bright young man with a good head on his shoulders. He knew the risks that you all were taking. Don't you think he understood the possibility that you would be here to raise Harry because James wouldn't be?"

"I do," he admitted sadly. "I hate it so very much, but I do. It just has me all tied up in knots inside because I want him here too. I think that part of my problem is that I keep thinking that if I don't go through with it all, somehow James could come back."

"Sirius..."

"I know it's not reasonable or the least bit logical, but I can't help it. It's almost like I'm taking away this last possibility of ever seeing my brother again and it hurts so badly that I don't know how to breathe sometimes."

Sirius' face was pure misery as Andromeda thought back to how close the two young men had always been. Truly brothers in almost every sense of the word. She imagined that losing James had been like Sirius losing the other half of himself and how he managed to bear it when he was shut away in a place the fed on the scant few happy memories a person had, she had no idea.

But she did know that it wasn't healthy to cling on to those dead and gone. Sirius would never truly heal until he could let James really go.

"James isn't coming back, my dear. No matter how much you wish it."

"Sometimes looking at Harry, I think, just for a split second, that he has," Sirius confessed, his eyes flooding with tears. "Wait until you see him, Andromeda. He really does look so much like James they could be twins. And sometimes...sometimes I see Harry coming into a room or even up in the sky on his broom and it's like...What my brain knows and what my heart wants are two very different things."

"Harry can't replace James," Andromeda cautioned, worried for her cousin. "It's not fair of you to expect him to."

Sirius' eyes flashed dangerously with clear anger and she knew that she had just made a terrible mistake. She hadn't meant to insult Sirius or the affection he had for Harry.

"I don't expect him to!" he hissed. "What do you think of me to even suggest that?"

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to offend you," she apologized, holding her hands up in surrender. "I can just see how easy it would be to make the mistake. Sometimes our hearts make us see things that aren't there. My mother used to tell me that my father occasionally called Bellatrix by my name. It was very hurtful for both of them."

"It was hard at first," Sirius admitted, calming down after a moment of reflection. "The grief was still too raw and my time with the Dementors didn't exactly leave me in the best place psychologically. But you can't be around Harry for longer than half a heartbeat before seeing that he's very much his own person."

"How so?"

"He's far kinder than James was at that age," Sirius remarked fondly. "It pains me to say that, but it's true. James and I were both a couple of egotistical prats before adulthood sobered us. Harry has all the innate goodness that Lily gave him. He'll be a better man that either James or I ever were."

"I think you sell yourself short, Cousin. You are, after all, doing the right things by him. Only a good man would do that."

Nodding his head in appreciation, Sirius leaned over to take one of Andromeda's hands to kiss the back of it. He hadn't realized until just this moment how much he missed the affection and support she had shown him when they were younger. It was a kind of warmth that all children needed and he certainly never received any from Walburga.

"Well, one of the right things to do is to plan for the future," he said, once he swallowed the lump in his throat. "Which leads me back to part of the reason for my visit today. As we both know very well by this point, our tomorrows are not guaranteed. As his father, I need to ensure that Harry's cared for in case I'm the one who isn't around anymore."

"Of course you do. Even when there are no troubles like we experienced in the past, something can always happen."

"I'm glad you understand," he responded happily. "Because I would like it very much if you would agree to be his new godmother."

Andromeda's eyes widened in shock. Sirius couldn't have said anything that would have surprised her more than what he just did. How he could actually want her to play such a pivotal role in his new son's life after the terrible way she failed him, she had no idea.

"Me?" she stuttered, finding words difficult at the moment. "Why on Earth would you even consider me after everything? I mean, of course I'd be honored, but I don't exactly have the best track record of dependability."

"I trust you, Andromeda."

Leaning over, Sirius took her hands again gave her a look of complete confidence and affection.

"What's past is past. You've always been a wonderful mother and the relative I trusted the most, and after the adoption is final, Harry will inherit my place as the head of the Black family. He'll need someone with more decency than the rest of the lot to help him navigate through life if I'm not here to protect him."

"I'm flattered, Sirius. Truly. But it's been a long time since I considered myself a Black."

"Well, you're just going to have to start again," he insisted. "Because I could use your help myself as well since I've decided to take over the family holdings."

Andromeda couldn't help the chuckle that burst out of her from hearing this. She didn't have to guess how angry Lucius was going to be to find out that he was being ousted back into the cheap seats of their political world. Just the thought pleased her greatly.

"And, to be perfectly blunt," Sirius continued, "Harry could use another mother figure in his life. Molly Weasley has been very kind to him, and he adores her, but I can't help feeling that she's got quite enough to be getting on with, with her own children. Harry needs someone who can prioritize him that he doesn't have to share with his friend. I remember how you used to try and care for me when we were children. Would consider doing that for my son?"

It was the last thing she expected to hear today, but in all honesty she couldn't help but be pleased with the idea. It was a different world now that it had been when the Potters were murdered and she didn't actually expect anything like that to happen to Sirius. A godmother usually just needed to be willing to care for and pamper her godchildren. She'd always been sad that she and Ted had never gotten pregnant again after Dora.

"I confess it's been hard since Nymphadora moved out and got her own place," she said at last. "Ted spoils her terribly, so he was happy to pay for this big, fancy flat in Belgravia. It's far too grand, especially for a girl who prefers combat boots and vulgar tee-shirts. But you know my husband. Anything for his baby girl."

She shrugged helplessly, having long ago accepted the fact that Dora was a Daddy's girl. She loved her daughter deeply, but sometimes it was hard between mothers and daughters, no matter how much they love each other.

"I do miss her dearly," Andromeda sighed wistfully, "Especially since she doesn't particularly seem to need me anymore. I wouldn't really mind having a young one to fuss over again."

"Harry could use some fussing," Sirius assured her with a chuckle. "In my opinion he hasn't been fussed over enough in his life. And I can't be the only one to do it. I have to be the strict disciplinarian too."

"Well that settles it!" Andromeda decided, clapping her hands and getting up to fetch her date book. "The two of you will come and stay with us a bit once he's home for the Easter holiday."

She was stopped in her tracks when Sirius took another uncomfortable sip of his tea and cleared his throat.

"Right. About that. Remember when I said two favors?"

************HP**************

It took a while and some fairly vigorous compromises, but the classes themselves were finally sorted between the adults who would be doing the instruction.

The biggest change that the children were going face was the fact that the varied scope of the new curriculum was very unlike the one set out by any other magical school anywhere.

Because Fulminare was going to be a place where magical kids were also instructed in non-magical studies.

This was obviously a controversial idea since the wizarding world at large didn't particularly hold a lot of respect for the education of their Muggle counterparts. Once a Muggleborn child was identified and introduced to magic, all emphasis on learning anything other than the traditional wizarding school subjects was entirely forgotten.

Lily Potter had always been more than a bit perturbed by this practice.

A truly gifted student before she ever set foot in Hogwarts, she never really understood why the more important aspects of her Muggle education came to a grinding halt just because she could use a wand. She strongly felt that the ability to exist in either world was exceptionally important to every witch or wizard, especially in a time of war like the one they were growing up in.

Having been subjected to her frustration on this topic for many years, Sirius knew that it had always been Lily's intention to raise Harry or any other child of hers with a firm comprehension of both sides of their parentage.

She didn't want her son to be unable to function in the much, much larger Muggle world if he ever had to, and thankfully James was fully in favor of this idea. As a pure-blood, it actually embarrassed James on the few occasions he'd met with Lily's family, how little he knew about Muggles and their ways.

It was one thing to have a general concept, but another entirely to see the reality.

Not knowing quite how to tackle this problem, although he was sure he wanted to try, Sirius had been more than thrilled when Jean and Hugh Granger made the suggestion that they scale back their dental practice and uproot themselves to join everyone at Celestial Court. Both of them were very bright people who'd done well at University and they were more than happy to provide instruction in what they thought of as normal secondary school classes.

You didn't get through all the difficult medical training in dental school if you were poor students. Jean had earned most of her pocket money during Uni by tutoring her struggling classmates, and Hugh was an avid history buff and voracious reader who'd planned on writing a book or two of his own once he hit retirement age.

The idea of the two of them getting a chance to see their daughter's magical skills first hand and be able to actually teach her and her friends was something that greatly appealed to both of them. Especially when it meant that Hermione would be getting critical instruction in subjects that her parents felt were important but seemed totally lacking at Hogwarts.

With a little bit of creative scheduling, they realized that they could close their practice two days a week and still be able to provide care for most of their regular patients.

Sirius had assured them that transportation wouldn't be a problem, even though Celestial Court was not exactly within an easy commute from London for non-magical people. He promised the help of two house elves who would apparate the Grangers to their office every Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings and return in the late afternoons to bring them back.

This way they could still keep their practice in operation, as well as live full-time with their daughter again, and Sirius could have peace of mind that his son could one day survive in the Muggle world without drawing attention to himself if it ever came to that.

It gave Harry choices, which was something Sirius badly wanted for his son who'd mostly had them taken away from him for so long.

Sirius was a wizard, and so was his son. But after so many years of them both being let down by the people in their own world, Sirius decided that he'd be perfectly okay if one day Harry wanted to eschew his magical life and just go off and live like a Muggle in a small quiet town somewhere where there were no unfair expectations of him.

Maybe Harry would attend a Muggle university and work towards a non-magical career as a chef, or an engineer or a physical therapist.

It didn't matter to Sirius what his son chose to do with his life as long as he was happy and healthy. Sometimes, Sirius was pretty sure that Harry would be better off far away from a world filled with dark arts and troubling prophecies and deadly wizards bent on killing a young boy.

Giving his son a chance to keep one foot on each side of the fence was a good strategic decision in Sirius' mind.

He would make sure that Harry knew all the magic he needed, and with the Grangers providing his son with the education and skills to shed his magical persona and disappear into the Muggle world if he wanted to, it was very much a win-win situation.

It would also make for a terribly crowded class schedule, but it was going to be worth it in the end, Sirius was sure.

Because time was passing by very quickly, certain adjustments to the children's Hogwarts coursework needed to be instituted right away. Technically, they were in the middle of the spring term, there were only so many hours in a day and there were far more important things for his son to learn. So Sirius immediately put his foot down and refused to allow Harry to continue either Divination class or Care of Magical Creatures.

In his opinion, the study of Divination was absolutely worthless unless you actually had the potential to be a Seer, which very few wizards and witches did, and why it was still taught at Hogwarts he didn't know.

Hermione, no surprise, fully supported this decision and Ron didn't really care about it one way or another, so thankfully there had been no reason to continue the class.

As far as Care of Magical Creatures was concerned, Sirius was an animagus, and Remus a werewolf, with some ambiguity as to whether or not they were technically magical creatures in their transformed states. But they did have enough personal and practical knowledge to be able to organically incorporate a lot of information on the subject in every day life without making it a formal class.

In the place of these two classes, Sirius decided that he would teach the boys an introduction to both Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. To hopefully get at least Harry caught up to where he could successfully take his O.W.L.s in the subjects in his fifth year. During this same time block, Remus would be instructing Hermione in her current coursework for the classes separately since she was already in her second year of taking them.

Sirius would obviously also continue teaching Astronomy, and because he felt strongly about the importance of other classes he himself was very proficient in, he'd also be instructing the kids in Potions and Transfiguration.

Originally, Sirius had also pushed to pick up Charms as part of his course-load. Which didn't really come as a surprise to Remus, since it seemed pretty clear that Sirius was a wee bit obsessed and would actually just like to be their overall teacher full-stop. But the five mostly heavy courses he was already handling were more than a full load for any one person no matter how driven they were.

In the end, Sirius was grudgingly forced to admit that Remus was every bit accomplished with Charms as Sirius was himself.

Simply because Sirius knew he couldn't say with any kind of honesty that his co-creator of the Marauder's Map wasn't a strong enough teacher to get the job done when he'd already done brilliantly with the subject during Harry's summer tutoring. Which then led to Remus correctly pointing out that the only reason Sirius wanted Charms in the first place was because it was the most fun subject to teach.

A glare was Sirius' only response to that particular comment.

Or at least it was until Remus returned to his cottage that evening to find a pack of nifflers aggressively routing through his belongings.

It took Remus a full half-hour to rescue his smaller possessions from the nifflers' pouches, and by the time he was done corralling them to return to Hagrid, who would get an earful for lending them in the first place, he'd decided that war was declared and he began to plot his revenge.

Apparently Sirius didn't have a long enough memory when it came to how patient Remus could be when planning a prank.

Besides Charms and Hermione's private tutelage, Remus was also going to be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts as well as History of Magic. All of the kids heaved sighs of relief that they would no longer be bored out of their minds in Binns' class and it was generally agreed that if any of them never heard another word about goblin rebellions, it was going to be far too soon.

It wasn't that Remus didn't have the ability to teach the more challenging courses that Sirius was handling, except for Potions which had never been his strong suit despite his determination to master it, but more because he was out of commission three to four days a month already, and he and Sirius had agreed that the less interruption to the busy schedule, the better.

Molly had been an excellent student herself, and she was more than capable of covering Hermione's Arithmancy and Ancient Runes lessons while Remus was recovering during the full moon cycles, having spent holidays tutoring her own son Bill skillfully enough that he qualified to train as a curse breaker. Sirius, meanwhile, would pick up the slack on those days for the rest of Remus' classes.

Molly would also be coming over to teach her own regular subjects on Thursday and Saturday mornings, with the invitation to be there more often if she chose.

Primarily, her specialty would be Herbology, her deft hand with a large variety of plants very apparent in her own garden at the Burrow. Along with Herbology, Molly was also going to be giving introductory instruction to basic Healing. Which was something that Hogwarts did not teach, but all the parents felt was a good thing for their excessively danger-prone children to know.

With seven children and a husband who was very fond of experimenting, Molly had more real world experience with treating injuries and minor spell damage than Trainee-Healers. Although Ted Tonks had also just made the offer to sub-in for more in-depth instruction if the classes progressed that far when his own schedule allowed.

For the Muggle classes, Jean and Hugh had talked about it between themselves and decided that the more tech savvy Jean would tutor the kids in Mathematics and a Science, starting with Biology. As well as French, since she spoke it fluently from her summers living with her Grandmere in Nantes. Hugh would be instructing them in his preferred subjects of English Literature, History and Geography.

Having grown up outside the wizarding world, both Harry and Hermione knew that the Muggle Studies course at Hogwarts was beyond ridiculous and badly needed to be updated. Since Ron knew relatively little about about the Muggle world, despite his father's job, it was decided that it was best to let Ron learn what he needed to know first hand.

The kids would be spending some time getting familiar with the new computers set up at the Granger cottage after dinner two nights a week as well as taking a weekly outing in Muggle London every Thursday afternoon for practical and entertainment purposes.

It was these outings that most everyone was really looking forward to, since any wizarding location was deemed off limits due to safety concerns for Harry. Hermione missed going to the theatre and shopping with her parents, and Harry, having been kept home by the Dursleys during any fun activity the family planned, had spent surprisingly little time out in the Muggle world himself and there was a lot he'd like to do if allowed.

Personally Ron didn't feel that anything Muggle London could offer would compare to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, but seeing the enthusiasm on his friends' faces at the idea, he was willing to find out. Especially if it resulted in an afternoon away from classes with the potential to do something exciting for a change.

Altogether, that made fifteen full classes and a couple of side classes, which meant a seriously heavy workload for the kids.

It wasn't going to be easy for them and it was also going to take a tremendous amount of cooperation between the five teachers to ensure that their students were learning at a steady but not debilitating pace.

But considering how much these particular children were loved by their instructors, it probably wouldn't be as hard of a task as it could have been elsewhere.

*********HP***********

Friday was a particularly cold and drizzly day at Celestial Court. The weather in early March could be hit or miss in Northern England, but the month did tend to have rain more often than not. The trio were holed up in a sitting room on the second floor where a huge fire was crackling in the massive fireplace warding off the damp chill, doing their assigned reading for the day.

After the rocky start the day of their arrival, Hermione had firmly taken charge, brandishing her carefully constructed homework planner like a sword into battle. She'd scouted the chateau and found the perfect spot for quiet study, far away from the noisy bustle of the library-turned-classroom where all the adults were still feverishly working and planning in order to officially start classes first thing on Monday.

Each morning after breakfast since their arrival she corralled the boys and shooed them upstairs before any of their various parents had the chance to. Knowing Sirius as well as she did now, she had no doubt that Harry had been soundly reprimanded by his father for the other night and she didn't want to see her friend in trouble again.

Ron went right along with her plans without uttering a word of complaint. Although the two of them had made a united front in standing with Harry, the redhead was still very much in the doghouse with his status unclear girl friend, although maybe a bit less after she served as Viktor's 'something he would miss'. Still, he was willing to do what she asked, especially if it kept him out of his mum's way.

Harry, while he appreciated her efforts, wouldn't be unhappy if he never again had to hear the shrill voice of the planner scolding him "If you've dotted the i's and crossed the t's then you may do whatever you please!".

It didn't matter that Hermione herself had already read ahead all of the assigned chapters. Honestly, she'd done it before she even left Hogwarts, but it set a bad example for the boys if she didn't work alongside them, and of course she strongly felt that it never hurt to review your materials.

"I'm starving," Ron grumbled as he turned another page of his History of Magic textbook. "Any chance of getting a snack in the kitchen, Harry?"

Harry put down his own book and stretched the numbness out of his arms from sitting in one place so long. They'd been working very diligently for almost three hours.

"Yeah, sure. Or I could just call Bicky. She'd be happy to bring us something."

"As if she doesn't have enough to do!" Hermione huffed angrily, as she slapped her book closed. "Honestly, Harry. How hard is it to walk down your own stairs to your own kitchen and fetch something?"

Used to her scolding on the topic, Harry sighed wearily. No matter how hard they tried, no one was ever going to get Hermione to understand the psyche behind the house elf mindset or the bond of service and loyalty they had to their household.

Any further argument was impeded by the sudden appearance of the enormous dog patronus that came bounding into the room. Padfoot trotted directly over to Harry and sat in front of the boy's chair to deliver the message.

"Harry, could you come to my office please? I'd like to speak to you."

Once Sirius' voice was done speaking, the patronus vanished in a wisp of smoke as Harry stood up to leave. Over in his chair, Ron shifted uncomfortably as Hermione frowned and shoved her closed book to the side.

"What have you done now?" she demanded in a tone that was half irritation, half resignation.

Looking over at his friends and their clear discomfort, Harry snorted and rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, guys. I'm not always in trouble, you know," he assured them with a chuckle. "Sometimes my father just wants to talk to me. Like a normal parent."

"But he's not just your parent," Hermione pointed out as Ron nodded to agree with her. "He's also your headmaster now, isn't he? And you usually only get called to the headmaster's office when you've done something wrong."

That gave Harry a split second of pause before he scoffed again and shook his head as he walked over to the door.

"I'm sure it's nothing bad. Probably just wants to check and make sure we're getting our assignments done," he guessed, turning to Ron. "I'll let him know that we're actually ahead at the moment and maybe he'll let us take a break for a bit and have an early lunch."

That idea sounded good to Ron who nodded before going back to the passage he was reading, but Hermione still looked skeptical although she held her tongue.

Harry wasn't necessarily worried about the summons as he trotted down the stairs, but he did begin to wonder if Hermione was right. Although his father had backed off a little since the tense first day everyone was at the house, it was still technically a school day for the kids and maybe Harry was being asked to the office in his capacity as a student.

Sirius' voice hadn't sounded angry or annoyed, but that didn't necessarily mean anything since Harry's Papa was very good at hiding his feelings. When the boy arrived at the office door, he decided to err on the side of caution just case as he knocked twice and walked in.

"You wanted to see me...Headmaster?"

Looking up from his desk Sirius was more than a bit surprised by the greeting. Harry didn't seem upset or like he was attempting to mock the title that Sirius now carried. His son genuinely seemed to be trying to be respectful, which Sirius appreciated, although it occurred to him that they were probably going to need to come up with a better system of communication for the future.

"I think Headmaster Black is in a broom cupboard somewhere up on the third floor," he said, giving his son a mischievous wink. "No doubt hiding from Professor Weasley."

Sirius' attempt at humor worked as Harry broke out into a laugh and then easily strolled over to his desk, much more relaxed. Getting up from his chair, Sirius came around the desk and pulled his son into a hug.

"It's actually your loving Papa that wanted to see you."

Harry smiled and leaned into the hug for moment before stepping back and flopping down in the chair his father indicated.

"And what does my loving Papa want to talk to me about?"

What Sirius wanted was to not have to have this conversation in the first place, but as so often happens, he didn't often get want he wanted when it came to the things his son was forced to face.

"I've been thinking about the Third Task," he said instead, frowning when his son's shoulders tensed back up but needing to continue. "We have just a little over three and half months, and I have an idea, but I'm concerned that it might be a bit too much for you with everything else going on."

"What kind of an idea?" Harry asked, his forehead puckered in worry.

Choosing his words carefully, Sirius lifted himself to sit on the edge of the desk. He didn't want to make this sound like an order for his son, but he needed Harry to understand how important it could be in ensuring his best chance for survival. It wasn't at all how he ever expected to discuss this subject with the boy.

"I'd like you to give real consideration to becoming an animagus before the Task."

To say that Harry was surprised was an understatement. Of course he'd thought about it hundreds of times since hearing about the pact made by his dad and his friends to help their other friend. Harry wanted to do everything that James Potter had done at school, considering it only natural that a son would want to emulate his father.

In no scenario had he ever thought that Sirius would be the one to suggest it.

When Harry had pictured the conversation he'd have with his Papa about his interest in finding an animagus form of his own, it had always been him begging and pleading to be allowed since the transformation could be quite dangerous and Sirius wasn't really known for his tolerance of Harry putting himself in danger.

"I'll help," Sirius was quick to reassure his son, when Harry still hadn't said anything. "When your dad and I did it, we had to do it all in secret after figuring everything out for ourselves. I'd always hoped that you, maybe with Ron and Hermione, would someday do the same. But now I really believe it would be beneficial to you to have the skill before the last Task, if we can manage it."

"I can't believe you're saying this," Harry finally uttered, shaking his head in disbelief once he'd found his voice again. "I always imagined it would be this great big fight to get you to agree to let me."

Sighing deeply, Sirius nodded.

"Under other circumstances," he admitted, "it might have been. But I can't deny that my ability to transform has saved me more times that I care to count. I just want you to have every possible advantage should..."

"Should something go wrong?" Harry guessed, a tired grimace on his face.

Sirius swallowed hard, deeply bothered by the look of resignation in his son's eyes, and nodded sadly. It wasn't fair that Harry had to worry about these kinds of things when he was just a boy.

"Is there enough time?"

Harry didn't know all the ins and outs of the spell, but he did understand that it took a fair amount of time and practice to accomplish it successfully. Three and a half months wasn't really all that long when you were talking about mastering one of the most complicated pieces of magic that a wizard could do.

"Maybe, maybe not," Sirius shrugged. "I know the ritual. We have access to the potion ingredients and the open grounds you need. It's really going to depend on the weather between now and then."

"The weather?"

Harry's eyebrows raised in disbelief. He never would have guessed that meteorology would play into whether or not he could achieve the transformation. Not that he should have been surprised. Magic was very organic in its purest forms and often tied to the elements of the Earth.

Something he'd learned in his father's Astronomy class.

"We'll need a lightning storm," Sirius said, crossing his arms, "For the potion. And a few other things, but that's not to bother. They're simple enough to acquire. But it's a tricky process, Harry. One tiny mistake and you're back to square one. That's why it took us so long."

Harry ran a hand through his messy hair as he thought it all through. He agreed with his father that the ability to transform might come in handy when he was faced with a highly dangerous and completely unknown situation. Champions were only allowed their wands during a Task. Another advantage couldn't go amiss.

"I think I should."

"Good," Sirius smiled, relieved. "It's not going to be easy, but I'll be there with you all the way. But you will NOT attempt your first transformation without my permission. It can go horribly wrong. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded. He wasn't interested in doing anything too dangerous either. Not when his father was willing to help. "But may I ask Hermione and Ron to join us? I just don't want to do this without them if it's something they want to do too."

Sirius understood that. He really did.

The only problem was that he had both a working and a personal relationship with the Weasleys and the Grangers now. He couldn't, in good conscience, allow their kids to undertake something that could be relatively harmful without speaking to their parents first.

He knew how he would have felt if the roles were reversed.

"You can tell Hermione and Ron what we just talked about," Sirius compromised. "But if it's something they want to try as well, they have to talk about it with their own parents. They can let them know that I have approved it for you and will be teaching you everything myself, but if Arthur and Molly or Hugh and Jean say no, then I won't agree to teach their kids."

Unexpectedly, Harry felt his temper flare. There was a tiny voice in his head that was insistent that his friends needed to be given the opportunity to protect themselves as well he was. Who knew what could happen the next time someone tried to use one of the people closest to Harry as human leverage? At least as animagi, Ron and Hermione would have a chance to escape before they could be hurt.

"Papa, that's totally unfair!" Harry objected vehemently, jumping to his feet and letting his turbulent emotions bubble up to the surface. "You didn't have approval before you and my dad did it. What if Ron's and Hermione's parents say no just because they're worried about the tiniest chance that something could maybe, possibly happen?"

"Because it's not a tiny chance!" Sirius scolded, getting down from his desk to face his son. "It's a big risk and really quite unpredictable if you don't understand exactly what you are doing. People have gotten hurt in the past because they weren't careful. That's why I'm going to be monitoring you very closely. I already know what's at stake."

"Well, you could monitor them closely too without having to get the other parents involved. Can't you just do that as their headmaster?"

Because he was annoyed that his son was trying to manipulate him, Sirius just assumed that Harry was pouting now. In his opinion, the boy might think that he was presenting a strong case and had the right to be angry about the injustice of it all, but really it was just the whinge of a child who wasn't getting his way.

"No I can't," Sirius scolded as he reached out to take Harry's chin in his hand. "That kind of thinking is exactly why I pulled you out of Hogwarts! I would be absolutely furious if one of the other parents made a decision like that for you and didn't ask me. And I better not catch you trying to teach your friends on your own either if you value the ability to sit comfortably for a month or ever want to see your Firebolt again. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry ground out through clenched teeth.

He jerked his face away and stared down at the carpet, caught somewhere between anger and embarrassing tears. He couldn't understand why he was suddenly so upset or really what upset him more. Sirius' refusal to understand why this was so important to him or his father's willingness to believe that Harry would disobey him so recklessly.

"I wouldn't do that, Papa," he finally muttered, unable to hide his hurt. "I wouldn't disrespect you like that. I'm not an idiot, you know."

Sirius took one look at Harry's angry red face and the way his son was shaking with heaving breaths and immediately understood that he'd completely misjudged Harry's response. Sometimes it was still difficult for him to find the exact line to walk between being too easy and too hard on his son and he didn't always guess correctly.

"I know you're not an idiot," he apologized, feeling truly awful as he put his arms around his stiff and resisting son. "I didn't mean to sound like I thought you were. You know how I feel about the way Dumbledore allowed you to do things that weren't really okay for you to do. I also know what your dad and I would have done under the same circumstances. But it wasn't fair of me to assume you would act like either of us."

Harry managed to keep his ire up for another moment while his father held him close, but eventually he calmed down enough to admit to himself that he hadn't always been the most well behaved son in the world, and maybe his Papa did have a good reason for not trusting him entirely in this case. It wasn't all that long ago that Harry would have done exactly what Sirius suggested he might and secretly shared the information with his friends regardless of the consequences.

Slightly mollified, he still wasn't necessarily feeling affectionate enough to hug his father back, but he did compromise by resting his head on Sirius shoulder. Just for his father's sake, or at least that's what he told himself.

Harry just didn't want to think of how much the Third Task scared him because he wasn't a little kid who needed his hand held. He also didn't want to admit that he was regularly having nightmares about Sirius or one of his friends getting hurt or killed during the Task because of him.

Hadn't he already been shown that the ones he loved could be taken right out from under his nose? Ron and Hermione needed an advantage too.

Sirius had already yanked Harry out of Hogwarts because of what happened during the Second Task. Merlin only knew what his father would do if he found out that Harry woke up every night in a cold pool of sweat after reliving it all, only he was never actually in time to save anyone in his dreams.

As much as he knew he should be, it was hard to be brave and strong when he was cuddled against his father's chest, knowing that he could rely on Sirius to do whatever it took to keep Harry and his friends safe. That it wasn't just up to him to handle these things alone anymore. His friends had always been there for him, but there was something a little more comforting about finally having a reliable adult to turn to that helped to ease his fears.

"But you will try to convince their parents to give them permission," he tried again. "Won't you?"

"I promise to do my best," Sirius assured him, gently rubbing his son's tense back. "But us parents can be pretty stubborn about our kids. We're pretty fond of you lot."

"Please, Papa."

Harry's hands were suddenly gripping the back of Sirius' shirt, as if he was afraid of letting his father go. The plaintive desperation in his son's voice nearly broke Sirius as he automatically responded by holding the boy tighter.

He knew the sound of real fear when he heard it. He also knew for sure that Harry wasn't even close to being as okay as the boy had been professing to be recently, and taking his son's assurances on the subject on pure faith alone wasn't a mistake Sirius would make again.

"Okay, little one," he soothed as much as he could manage. "It's all going to be okay. Papa will make sure of it."

*************HP**************

Using his best posture, a gesture that seemed to come over him without thinking about it, Sirius stood directly in front of the fireplace in the sitting room with the chateau's one and only connection to the Floo network.

Not that there were a lot of connections authorized on it.

With safety paramount, Sirius had closed off all incoming traffic except for The Burrow. Even his former office in the Astronomy Tower as well as Dumbledore's office were no longer attached. So without another means of access, his impending guest was left to impose on the good graces of the Molly Weasley in order to meet with him today.

Checking the watch that his surrogate father had gifted him with on his seventeenth birthday, he waited in curious anticipation for her imminent arrival with no small amount of trepidation over exactly what her business with him would be.

He and Harry had only just arrived back at Celestial Court from their Saturday afternoon outing when a large brown owl swooped in and demanded to give him a cream coloured envelope of heavy, refined paper with his name blazoned on the front in an elegant script. Recognizing the distinctive swirls from the RSVP for Harry's birthday party last summer, Sirius knew right away who it was from.

Frank Longbottom had been a few years older than Sirius and James were, so they weren't closely acquainted during their time at school, but afterwards, when the two of them made the decision to join the auror training program in the fervent zeal of the increasingly violent war, Frank had quickly become somewhat of a mentor and confidante to them both.

It didn't take too long for the Marauders to develop a fondness for the affable older man, whose pleasant demeanor vanished in a flash when the skilled and confident auror side of his personality took over on their dangerous missions. Together with his pretty young wife, just as deadly in the field as her husband ever was, the Longbottoms were an unmatched team of stealth and precision until Sirius and James came along.

Frank was a sharp shot with his wand, a more lethal dueler was rarely seen, but he was also uncommonly kind and self-effacing. He was besotted with Alice, putty in her hands when she gave him a mischievous wink, and watching the two of them together would make anyone jealous of having such a perfectly suited partner at work and at home.

But for all of his bravery on the battlefield, Frank could also squirm like a tot caught with his hand in the biscuit jar when his mum came round to the office.

Augusta Longbottom, a tall, thin and stately sort of woman absolutely despised the current head of the DMLE Bartemius Crouch and didn't feel a need to hide this fact. She did not have a sense of humor that Sirius was aware of and her mere appearance was enough to quiet the entirety of a room full of dark wizard catchers, which was a feat that even Alastor had trouble managing.

Her husband, Frank's much more sedate father Callum, had been the greatly respected head of the Auror department for several years before traumatic spell damage to his wand hand forced him to retire. Callum could have opted to run operations from a desk, but he was never one to order his subordinates into a danger zone while he stayed safely behind. He stepped down just as his son was entering the department, content that a Longbottom was still on active duty to make sure the job was done right.

But Augusta still had enough of a commanding presence over her husband's former office to inspire the aurors to suddenly look very busy when she swept in to speak to her son and daughter-in-law. The Minister of Magic himself couldn't have inspired more fear than she did.

In spite of that, Frank adored his mother, and after the initial inspection of him to make sure that he was living up to his family name, Augusta doted and fussed over her only child. Right down to faithfully wearing the Merlin-awful stuffed vulture hat that Frank had bought her for Mother's Day when he was just eight years old after Callum handed his small son a galleon to pick out a present for her.

That hideous vulture was the first thing that Sirius saw in the green flames of the fireplace as Augusta arrived in his home as regally as one could when traveling by floo.

Because Celestial Court was under the new Fidelius, Augusta no longer had any idea where it was located when she sent her request for an audience, so Molly had been given a scrap of parchment with the written words that gave away the secret to hand to Augusta on her arrival at the Burrow.

It wasn't that Madam Longbottom was intentionally kept out of the original loop. Sirius wasn't at all worried about the stern matron knowing the address. If anyone had reason to hate Voldemort's ilk, it was Augusta.

Remembering his manners, he offered his hand and assisted Augusta out onto the ornate Persian carpet where she immediately waved her wand to remove every trace of powder and soot before nodding her head at him in greeting.

"Madam Longbottom. It's a pleasure to see you again," he smiled. "May I offer you some refreshment?"

"That would be lovely, Sirius," she replied, polite but firm as she allowed him to offer his arm to escort her to the seating area where a full tea service appeared on the polished oak table between the two ornate silk covered sofas.

Although she was the guest, Augusta played mother as she poured tea into two delicate china cups emblazoned with the Black family crest, handing one to Sirius and taking the other for herself. She declined his offer of scones and cake and settled back in her chair and taking a sip of the strong aromatic blend.

"I appreciate your seeing me today, Sirius," Augusta began without fanfare. "Especially as I know that you are recently returned home and are surely very busy right now."

Taking a sip of his own, Sirius cleared his throat and sat back in his own chair.

"I was a bit curious," he admitted. "Of course you are always very welcome here, Madam, but you are correct in that I do have somewhat of a large project going at the moment."

"It is that project that I have come to see you about," Augusta stated as she put her cup on the table in front of her. "It is my understanding that you have removed your godson from Hogwarts and plan to incorporate him into some sort of school of your own devising?"

Her steely gaze originally gave nothing away and Sirius felt himself stiffen from criticism he hadn't actually been given yet, already on the defense. But, on further examination, her eyes were looking at him appraisingly and not really derisively.

"That's correct," he answered hesitantly. "After the...incident...of the second task, I felt I had no choice but to remove my son when it became apparent that I could no longer trust his safety at the school."

His use of the word son as opposed to godson didn't go unnoticed by the formidable woman, nor did he intend it to do so. Sirius was determined to make it perfectly clear to the entire wizarding world just what exactly Harry's place in his life was since the date of the official adoption was still two weeks away.

Augusta pondered his words for a moment in quiet contemplation before speaking again.

"My grandson speaks very highly of you," she said at length. "Both to your position as his professor as well as Harry's guardian."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her choice of the word guardian but remained silent out of respect for the older woman.

"It's not that I wouldn't recognize your place as Harry's father, if that is what the two of you have chosen" she went on to clarify, noticing the younger man's displeasure. "It's that I place additional emphasis on your somewhat heavier position as his guardian because young Mr. Potter isn't the average child, is he?"

Slightly mollified, Sirius gave her a brief nod of acknowledgment and allowed her to continue without comment, sensing that she was struggling with what she needed to say.

"I above many people appreciate the courage and fortitude you must have needed as a very young man in order to free yourself from the influences of your family," she said quietly with pain in her eyes. "I'm ashamed now to admit that I allowed my own prejudices of your family name to overrule my personal opinion of the content of your character so many years ago."

Sirius' mouth pinched into a tight grimace before he took a deep breath and let go of the anger he felt welling up inside of him at the reminder of how many people let him down with their belief in his guilt. But if anyone deserved to have a hatred of his detested relations it was Augusta Longbottom.

"No one," she continued, after seeing that she wasn't about to be rebuked, "who had ever seen you and James Potter together should ever have doubted your commitment to him and his family. I'm very sorry, Sirius. Truly I am."

"It's in the past," he said with as much grace as he could muster after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. "I'd like to leave it there."

Augusta nodded, knowing that it was as much absolution as she was likely to get. This was a conversation she'd wanted to have with him since last summer after she and Neville were invited to attend Harry's birthday party but had somehow repeatedly talked herself out of initiating until today.

She was a proud and forthright woman and it wasn't like her to avoid a confrontation, but in all truth she had been exceptionally fond of Sirius and James back in the day and had keenly felt the sting of the assumed betrayal, especially on top of the almost immediate tragedy of her own beloved son and daughter-in-law. After finding out the truth that Sirius had been railroaded with false accusations regarding the death of the person he'd loved like a brother, it was simply too much grief for an old woman to handle on top of what she already felt every day anyway.

"My grandson has the potential to be more than what he currently is," she stated with fierce determination and changing the subject. "He's already grown somewhat in confidence under the tutelage of yourself and Professor Lupin these past two years. I believe that should he continue to study under you, it could bring out the best in him."

Sirius drew in a deep breath, not expecting the sincere flattery she exuded. Augusta had always been a harsh critic, even when the person she was addressing did an exceptional job. It had always been her opinion that if you knew how to do well, you could do even better.

"I appreciate that, Madam," he said once he'd regained his voice. "Although I hardly think that either Remus or myself are the reasons why Neville has started to find his footing. He's a lovely young man. Quite bright too, like his father."

The mention of her dear son caught Augusta short for a moment and she recovered by clearing her throat and taking another unnecessary sip of tea.

"Thank you for that," she quietly uttered, averting her suddenly bright eyes as she smoothed the fabric of her fine linen robes. "Be that as it may, I was wondering if there was any possibility that you would allow my grandson to join Harry and his other friends with their new lessons?"

Sirius was momentarily shocked by the request. It was one thing to have Ron and Hermione and their parents willing to join Harry on his exodus from Hogwarts. Not unlike what Sirius and Remus would have done for James under similar circumstances. But it never occurred to him that any of the other students would be interested as well.

"He would certainly be welcome," he found himself saying without really thinking more about it. "Are you sure that you both would be okay with having him officially leaving Hogwarts to come here?"

"Quite," Augusta assured him, back on solid footing. "And why not? If Albus Dumbledore found both yourself and Mr. Lupin to be competent enough to teach at Hogwarts, surely Neville could be instructed as well here as he would there? If not even more so, considering what we both know of some of the other staff members."

Sirius had to agree, especially as far as Snape and Trelawney were concerned. Not to mention old Binns and his endless goblin rebellion lectures.

"I am eager to see what Neville could accomplish in an alternate setting," Augusta continued. "He could always return to his regular studies in September if his new grades aren't up to the mark. Although I doubt that would be the outcome considering who his instructors here would be."

"I appreciate your confidence," Sirius began hesitantly. "I certainly hope to provide the children with the best possible curriculum under the circumstances. But you should also be aware that it's not just the regular Hogwarts classes that we'll be requiring."

"Oh?"

Augusta looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation at this announcement. For just a brief moment it looked as if she was second guessing her decision to make this overture.

"As you might know, Hermione is Muggleborn," Sirius said, carefully watching Augusta's face for any sign of distaste. "As was Harry's mother Lily. In her honor I have decided that Harry will have a more well rounded education that incorporates both of the worlds he comes from."

Frowning in thought, Augusta folded her hands in her lap and mulled this information over briefly.

"Wouldn't you have to sacrifice some wizarding material to achieve that goal?" she questioned after a moment. "They already take a full load right now as it is, so I'm not sure more could be added without dropping some. How could that be beneficial to a magical child?"

"We're not sacrificing anything important, I assure you," Sirius defended as he tapped his wand on the table. "Merely moving the emphasis away from areas that are a waste of time in the long run for the vast majority of students."

A large square of parchment appeared in front of him that he handed to Augusta and he stood to move to a chair closer to her so that he could show her the contents.

"As you can see, nothing of real substance from the Hogwarts curriculum is being removed," he explained. "While a few courses from a normal Muggle school have been added to enrich their studies. I feel it prudent to ensure that my son could prosper in either our world or the Muggle world and Hermione's parents, not surprisingly, agree with me."

Augusta looked over the heavy schedule with a skeptical eye, not entirely confident that her currently less than ambitious grandson could manage the pace that Sirius had set for the other children.

"I know, it looks daunting," Sirius said having seen her hesitation. "But remember that children who benefit from almost personalized tutelage tend to pick up material much faster than in a larger group setting. Even if Neville were to join us, the class size for each subject would only be four to one. We wouldn't allow him to fall behind."

"Well I can't say that I wouldn't be grateful for any scenario where my grandson wouldn't be under the instruction of a former Death Eater," Augusta growled in irritation. "And both my husband and son did feel that a greater understanding of the Muggle world was beneficial to any auror."

She handed the schedule back to Sirius and pursed her lips in concentration as she summoned the will to make another hard confession.

"In the spirit of full disclosure, Sirius," she said boldly, "I should also tell you that I have reservations about allowing Neville to be taught by Mrs. Tonks were he to remain at Hogwarts. I won't apologize for that."

Practically choking in surprise, Sirius gained an even greater measure of appreciation for Madam Longbottom's connections. Andromeda had only sent word last night that she was definitely taking over Sirius' position at Hogwarts as the Astronomy professor.

As a Black, Andromeda was just as knowledgeable in the subject as Sirius was himself, maybe even more so. It had been his idea that she offer her talents to Dumbledore, since finding a professor in the middle of a term was difficult to say the least.

Sirius had been betting on Albus being open to the idea of having a conduit to Sirius and Harry and would have jumped at the chance to add Andromeda to the teaching roster in the hopes that she would unintentionally drop hints of what her cousin and his charge were doing now that they weren't at Hogwarts.

With an arrangement worked out by where Andromeda wasn't required to live at the school and could come and go by the floo in her new office, Albus had acquired his new spy. Not that Sirius didn't believe that the old headmaster wouldn't realize that Andromeda was coming at Sirius' request, but he was more interested in having his own set of eyes at the school.

Reflexively Sirius stiffened in defense of his cousin, but under the circumstances he couldn't dismiss Augusta's right to find Andromeda's presence at the school objectionable. It was already enough that the older woman accepted him as well as she did, considering what his family had cost hers.

"I understand," he said honestly. "Although Andromeda is the exact opposite of that lunatic sister of hers, no one could blame you for your reluctance to have Neville anywhere near her, especially given the physical resemblance. You should know, however, that Andromeda is going to be playing a larger part in Harry's life in the very near future, although I would make sure that Neville was otherwise entertained during her visits here."

Relieved, Augusta gave him a small nod of acknowledgment, pleased that this slight against his relative didn't automatically force them to argue over the finer points of his cousins' attributes.

"As I said," he continued, "Neville is most certainly welcome to join us. I'm sure Harry and the others will be thrilled to have him here."

"Then I shall take my leave to go and speak to the headmaster and collect my grandson," Augusta said as she stood up to go. "I have already instructed Neville to prepare for the possibility of leaving, so I will bring him here tomorrow morning if that suits you?"

Sirius stood as well and accompanied her to the fireplace, handing her the large red purse she had placed on the table beside the door.

"Of course," he agreed. "We breakfast at seven and will start classes promptly at eight. Neville can join us at either time and I'll make sure that a guest room is made ready for him. I'll add a floo connection from your home to ours this evening to make future travel easier for you both."

"Thank you, Sirius," Augusta said sincerely as she adjusted her garish hat. "Please send me an owl with the invoice for Neville's tuition, room and board."

Sirius held up his hand in protest and shook his head quickly.

"There are no fees, Madam. The costs involved are minimal and I'm happy to pay them since it's all necessary for my son. Honestly, it would be doing Harry a favor to have more support among his peers during what is a very difficult time for him. That's value beyond measure to us."

Knowing that Sirius would not be moved on this issue, Augusta chose not to press. The young man certainly had the financial means and she wouldn't insult him by suggesting otherwise.

"Be that as it may," she clarified, however, "should you find that there is something I can contribute to your endeavor, in any capacity, I expect you to let me know. It wouldn't please me to be the only guardian who isn't doing their bit."

"I certainly will, Madam," he agreed. "I look forward to seeing you and Neville tomorrow."

With another nod, Augusta stepped into the fireplace, tossed a handful of powder to ignite the green flames and barked "The Burrow!"

Once she was safely away, Sirius flopped down onto the nearest chair with a wary smile on his face. He was pleased that Harry was going to have yet another friend joining him on his new journey, but the student body had just increased by twenty-five percent in the last half hour.

He couldn't help but wonder if Neville would be the last addition or not.