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

40. Chapter 40

A/N + Today's ( And last because I'm tired of talking about it) Rant. I can't respond directly to guest reviews, so here goes.

Thank you to everyone who was complimentary and supportive of the last chapter! I really appreciate all the kind words.

Despite the request for disinterested parties to simply just scroll away, of course I got the usual complement of Drama Llamas who needed to state-their-intentions-for-the-record that I'M LEAVING! (cue hair toss and dramatic door slam). Take 2 extra points if you're still endlessly harping about spanking being in the story despite multiple warnings, and take 4 extra points if you're also of the I-can-write-this-better-myself-how-hard-can-it-be variety!

Please. By all means, write your own story. Why would you think that would bother me? I did the same thing myself when I didn't find one that portrayed the characters the way I saw them! You writing your own story will not impact mine at all, since I write for myself and the people who actually enjoy my work. Good luck to you!

But since I know you're still lurking here anyway, I just wanted to say THANKS! I won a bet with a friend who said after reading my warning that no one would be narcissistic enough to need to announce their exit. Bless her heart, she really tries to see the good in people. I'll enjoy dinner out at my favorite restaurant in your honor! :)

Also, if you think there hasn't been enough "growth" for Harry as a character, I would remind my gentle readers that I've been writing this series for 12 years, but only 9 months have passed since Chapter 1 of the original story. Yep. That's it.

Think of it this way. Harry and Sirius have already managed to build this life together in less than 1/2 the time we have all been dealing with Covid and I think they are growing appropriately as a family under the circumstances. Just a little perspective.

I have a lot of really wonderful and loyal readers who make writing this story a pleasure. None of this screed is aimed at you!

Time to move the story along! Enjoy today's chapter!

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

Remus took a sip from his mug of lukewarm tea and shook his head.

He was currently sitting at a round table in the antechamber next to the Great Hall with no one but Arthur's boy, while the other four chairs were frustratingly vacant. Young Percy, his spectacles perched on the end of his nose in a very good impersonation of the school librarian Madam Pince, was trying exceptionally hard to make himself look importantly busy as he repeatedly rustled the stacks of parchment in front of him.

If Remus wasn't so annoyed about his time being wasted, he might have found the boy's hubris amusing.

The fact that almost all of the other expected attendees were actually in residence on-site, while he had needed to travel from Celestial Court to attend the meeting today, only further irritated him. While he could possibly understand Albus being caught up in something last minute, it was his school after all, he knew better than to think that the tardiness by Madame Maxine and Igor Karkaroff was anything other than a slight against himself as well as against Harry.

"Well, Percy, I see that Bartemius didn't have time to participate in Tournament business again today," he mused, quirking an eyebrow.

Across the table, Percy drew himself up imperiously and Remus had to stifle a laugh at how seriously the boy was trying to take himself.

"Mister Crouch is very busy," the young redhead snapped pompously, his chin up in the air. "I am more than happy to appear on his behalf today. He relies on me quite heavily, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," Remus placated the boy, his eyes sparkling with mirth.

Yes. Percy Weasley was a fine Ministry man, alright.

The side door banged open, the heavy wood creaking on its hinges as Dumbledore entered the chamber. By the raised voices now filling the small room, Remus guessed that he'd missed the start of quite a spirited argument as the other two school heads nipped at Albus' heels. It didn't take a genius to guess what the topic of conversation was.

"C'est impossible, Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxine huffed as she ducked under the door frame to enter the antechamber. "Zuch a creature cannot be allowed to attend ze planning meetingz."

Knowing that he was the 'creature' in question, Remus smiled to himself and took another sip of his tea as Albus took the seat next to him.

"I'm afraid it's quite out of my hands, Madame," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly. "Mr. Lupin is the chosen representative for Mr. Potter and Tournament judge for Fulminare Academy. The rules are very clear."

"This is madness!"

Karkaroff sneered at Remus and stood behind his own empty chair, his arms crossed stubbornly while Dumbledore sighed and folded his hands calmly on the table.

"My dear Igor, if you could please take your seat? We are already well behind schedule."

"I will not sit at a table with his kind, Dumbledore," Karkaroff hissed. "It is an insult to my school to even suggest that a werewolf be allowed to judge the champions."

"My kind?"

Remus had already grown just a bit tired of the dramatics. He wasn't sure who Karakoff thought he was fooling with this act, but he was sure that he wasn't going to allow either Harry or himself or their school be disparaged by such an unprincipled man.

"Remind me, Karkaroff," Remus growled, "which one of us is a marked Death Eater? I don't recall your master having an issue with my kind when he was recruiting werewolves to fight for him during the war."

"Why you..."

"Gentleman!" Dumbledore raised his voice as Karakoff threatened to approach Remus. "I'm sure we can find a way to comport ourselves as professionals? After all, this Tournament is about the students, is it not?"

"But 'ee iz not even ze headmaster," Madame Maxime pointed out with disdain on her face. "Why should 'ee judge ze champions?"

"Fulminare's headmaster is Mr. Potter's father," Remus reminded the large affronted woman. "Would you not also accuse Mr. Black of undue favoritism if he was the one awarding points during the Third Task?"

Not that any one of them were under any kind of delusion about favoritism from the visiting school heads anyway, but the argument needed to be made.

"There is nothing in the Tournament rules that requires the judge be the head of the school," Dumbledore placated. "I quite agree that it's more proper that Mr. Lupin, as a professor of the school, serve in the capacity of judge instead of its champion's godfather."

Remus frowned at Albus' use of the term 'godfather'. He was beginning to understand Sirius' irritation with their former headmaster's unwillingness to acknowledge the change in relationship between Sirius and Harry.

"Some school," Karkaroff scoffed. "An academic history of a handful of days and one student to its name. The whole thing is an outrage! Bad enough when we were forced to accept a second Hogwarts champion, and now this?"

"Actually, my brother and..," Percy started to clarify.

"I agree wiz Igor," Madame Maxime interjected loudly as she held a large hand up in front of the sputtering ginger. "How many injustices must we endure? Zis iz making a mockery of our schoolz."

"Fulminare meets all the ICW requirements for an institution of learning, and neither Mr. Potter nor his father wanted him to compete in the first place," Remus stated firmly, his patience thinning. "Should this august body agree on a way that Mr. Potter could withdraw from the Tournament without risk to himself or his magic, I assure you that he is most willing."

"A likely story," Karkaroff huffed. "Are we really expected to believe that the boy didn't cheat his way into becoming a champion? Ha!"

A bit of the werewolf inside him was beginning to rise as Remus' eyes started to turn slightly more amber. If the heads of the other schools were smarter, they would have been paying attention.

"Exactly what upsets you more?" he barked at Karkaroff. "That Viktor had to share first place with Harry because it didn't occur to you to suggest that your champion, a seeker on the national team no less, use the flying skills that Harry did against the dragon? That maybe Viktor would have not lost points if he'd flown to get the egg?"

Karakaroff's face went red as he fumed and Remus knew he'd guessed right as he turned to Madame Maxime.

"Or is it that Harry managed to reach the merpeople village first and rescued not only his own hostage, but the hostage of your champion as well, Madame?"

Maxime glared with the sharpness of a thousand knives but remained silent, and Remus waited a few seconds to finish letting his statements sink in before continuing. It was better to get this all out on the table so they could just be done with it.

"Or maybe it's the fact that a fourteen-year-old underage wizard, who has years less experience and training than the very best your schools can offer, is still managing to hold his own against them?"

"The boy is cheating!" Karkaroff exploded, Madame Maxime nodding enthusiastically in agreement from her giant chair.

"Well then he's made a pretty poor job of it!" Remus yelled right back, standing up in fury as he smacked his hand down on the table. "He nearly got flambeed by the Horntail, losing his broom in the process. And if he was cheating to win wouldn't it have been better if he collected his hostage and returned within the hour to take first place instead of waiting to make sure all the hostages were rescued and returning last?"

"Everyone, please," Dumbledore interjected, raising his hands to calm down the tension shooting back and forth across the table. "This is getting us nowhere."

Just as the next round of arguments were about to start, the door banged open again and a pretty woman with long black hair and vibrant blue eyes strolled in like she owned the place. She made her way confidently over to the vacant chair on Remus' other side, her dark, blood red robes rippling in her wake.

"I'm so sorry for my lateness, everyone," she said apologetically as she took her seat. "Minister Fudge can certainly talk once he gets going."

"Hestia?"

Remus' eyes were wide with surprise, a hint of a pleased smile spreading across his formerly angry face as he recognized the newcomer.

"My dear friends," Dumbledore tapped his water goblet to get the attention of the room. "May I introduce Miss Hestia Jones. The new Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, taking over the position recently vacated by Mr. Bagman."

"Percy Weasley, Miss Jones," Percy greeted enthusiastically, practically crawling across the table as he thrust his hand at her. "Assistant to Mr. Crouch. A great honor to meet you."

Hestia's eyebrows raised and an amused smile danced around her lips as she shook the offered hand. She cast a side glance up at Remus who shook his head and rolled his eyes over the boy's antics.

"Pleasure, Mr. Weasley," she replied with a chuckle. "My, aren't you excited about your job."

Remus stifled a laugh, knowing that Percy saw the remark as a compliment. The obsequious young man beamed as he retook his seat, exceptionally pleased with himself, and Remus and Hestia exchanged a smirk.

"Now that we're all here," Dumbledore announced pointedly, his tone making it perfectly clear that Remus wasn't going anywhere, "I believe it's time we talk about the Third Task."

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

"Are you going to be wearing that from now on, then?"

Harry glanced from Hermione's face down to the black leather wand holster firmly attached to his waistband. It was smooth and flat and fairly hard to see against the black fabric of his school trousers unless you were looking for it. His father had given it to him that morning at breakfast after Xerxes flew into the dining room and carelessly dropped a brown paper wrapped package next to Sirius' goblet, practically spilling water everywhere.

Apparently Sirius had impressed upon his trusty owl the need for speed in this case and Xerxes was obviously still affronted by the implication that his usual deliveries were slow.

"Yep," Harry nodded, doing a surreptitious check to make sure his wand was firmly secured before grabbing another slice of apple from the picnic basket Bicky had packed for them so they could eat lunch outside. "My arse strongly recommends it."

"I'll bet," Ron chuckled as he and Neville shared a knowing look.

It was no secret between the friends how Harry was occasionally punished, so he wasn't cagey about the recent skirmishes he'd been involved in during their little getaway to the island when asked. He and Sirius had returned first thing Monday morning just in time for Transfiguration and Harry had visibly grimaced at the sight of the hard wooden chair he had to sit in for classes, knowing it was going to be an uncomfortable morning.

He swore to himself that he'd never again give his father cause to discipline him twice in the same day.

Although he didn't recount the events to his friends in any kind of detail, they got the overall picture easily enough. Harry had fidgeted a few times in his seat in a way that both of the other boys were personally familiar with. He blushed when Ron teased him about it during their first break, but easily admitted that his weekend away had involved a couple of little hiccups and a still slightly sore bum.

There was no real reason for Harry to be embarrassed by anything. Ron had always been very open about his own chastisements, and considering how blunt his mother could be when sharing them, it was probably just as well, and even Neville had confessed on a couple of occasions that his gran wielded a mean hairbrush.

After thinking about what happened the day before at the villa for most of Monday, Harry had gone to his father just before dinner and asked if there was a holster he could wear easily during classes. He already had a couple of them like the arm holster he was wearing just then, but what he really wanted wanted was something that didn't get in the way of writing. Sirius had smiled sadly at him and said that he'd take care of it, and promptly the next morning the new side holster arrived from Diagon Alley.

"You're lucky you weren't killed," Hermione scolded haughtily as she spread some jam on her scone. "Poor Sirius, what a fright you must have given him."

Hermione had an unfortunate habit of defaulting to annoyance when one of the boys did something dangerous, when really the very thought of Harry falling out of the sky again petrified her. Her friends were very precious to her and, to her great consternation, the boys just had a bad tendency to get themselves (and her) into all kinds of life threatening jams.

Harry's face fell and he nodded, remembering how scared his father had been after Harry's unscheduled descent. He never wanted to see that kind of look on Sirius' face again.

"I know, Hermione," he agreed a little irritably. "Believe me, I felt worse than terrible about it all."

"No joke," Ron nodded as he bit into a chocolate chip biscuit. "Mum's spoon is bad enough, but Dad's belt is bloody awful!"

"It's not that," Harry shook his head. "I mean, yeah, that part wasn't exactly fun, but you don't know how incredibly upset Papa was after I fell. Seeing him like that? It was way worse than the smacking he gave me. It was horrible actually."

"Of course he's going to worry, Harry," Hermione said gently, reaching out to put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "You're his son. He loves you."

"I know he does," Harry replied, a happy little smile on his face. "I love him too. It's just...I never used to have to think about whether or not anyone else would be upset about something I did. At least as far as worrying them, anyway."

Here Harry took a deep breath, his forehead puckered in thought. Even before this past weekend he'd been thinking of things quite a bit differently lately.

"I had to be careful not to do anything to make my aunt and uncle angry if I didn't want to get punished, but they didn't care if anything bad happened to me," he admitted shamefully. "All they ever cared about was that I didn't eat too much or attract too much attention from the neighbors or that I didn't do better than their Duddy-Diddikins at school."

There was venom in his voice that Harry wasn't able to mask in time before his friends caught it, and he had to duck his head away so he didn't have to see the pitying looks on their faces.

"Sirius really cares," he continued after a few awkward seconds. "And I've known that for a while because he tells me that he loves me all the time and I believe him. But I guess that I didn't really understand until I saw his face on the beach after my fall. Like, if I had died, he might have wanted to die too."

The teens were quiet for a moment as they took in Harry's words. All of them sharing an understanding with at least part of Harry's sentiments. Neville, thinking about his own unresponsive parents was forced to turn away, but Ron and Hermione understood exactly what it was like to have loving parents who worried about them desperately.

"After the Chamber," Ron said quietly, breaking the silence, "Mum wouldn't let me or Ginny out of her sight for more than five minutes at a time for weeks. Dad said she cried a lot at night when we couldn't see her because she kept thinking about what could have happened to us."

"My Mum and Dad never asked a lot of questions about my time at school," Hermione admitted sadly. "Not because they didn't want to know, but because it was hard for them to think about all the dangers to me there. It worried them terribly, of course, but they felt helpless about it all because they knew it was where I had to be, so it was just somehow easier to not know."

"I know that I'm really lucky now," Harry said with a large smile. "I'm just going to make sure that I never do anything to upset him so badly again."

"I'm sure Sirius doesn't want you to fundamentally change who you are just to please him," Hermione warned, her eyebrows drawn in concern. "Just to maybe be a bit more cautious?"

"Yeah, I know," Harry nodded. "And I will be. It's the least I can do for him."

"Speaking of which," Ron said as he nodded in the direction of the house, "looks like he's coming this way."

Harry turned and saw his father casually striding across the grass towards the pretty little marquee the house elves had set up for the kids in the back garden. It had been Sirius' idea that the teens could enjoy their lunch hour out in the fresh air on a rare mild day. Harry lifted his hand and waved, a pleased grin on his face as his father smiled and waved back.

They knew the time before their next class was just about up, so Neville and Hermione began packing up the remains of the basket lunch while they waited for Sirius' arrival, and he joined them just a moment later, conjuring a chair next to his son's and taking a seat.

"Well, this looks festive." Sirius grinned as he leaned back. "Did you enjoy dining al fresco today, everyone?"

"It's not the table by the villa's pool," Harry said cheekily, "but it was nice."

Sirius chuckled and crossed his legs and Harry could see a small white envelope that his father was holding on his lap.

"What's that?"

"This?" he asked, waving it around a bit jauntily. "Just a little something for my favorite student and his friends. I heard a rumor from Professor Jean that a certain young man answered all the questions correctly on the pop quiz he had in his French class this morning."

"I did?" Harry asked, an astonished look of surprise on his face. He hadn't been sure about a couple of his answers.

Sirius quirked an eyebrow and pursed his mouth. "Now what made you think I was talking about you? Maybe I meant Neville. Or Ron."

"Because I'm your beloved son," Harry said matter-of-fact as he tried to snatch the envelope with no success. "So I'm the only one you should be buying gifts for."

"Is that right?" Sirius asked, his voice rife with incredulity, although his silver eyes were merrily dancing. "Well, if you say so."

He handed the envelope over to Harry's grabby hands and watched with amused anticipation as the boy opened it. Harry's eyes went wide as he pulled out a small stack of bright orange strips of paper and he jumped up and shouted Yes! as he waved them in Ron's direction.

"Tickets to see the Cannons play the Harpies on Saturday!"

"One for everyone," Sirius confirmed, pleased by his son's reaction as Harry danced a happy little jig. "Even Jean and Hugh if they would like to see a match."

Ron joined Harry's glee, rushing over to pry the tickets out of his friend's hand so he could see the seats.

"These are for the top box!" the lanky redhead cried out in excitement, his eyes bugging out of his head. "How did you even get them? I thought these were sold out for ages in advance of a match?"

"I pulled some strings. Occasionally my last name is good for something..Oof!" Sirius laughed as his son tackled him to the ground in a hug.

The delighted father lay flat on his back, panting from having the wind knocked out, and he chuckled as Harry continued to whoop with joy in the grass next to him. After a moment, Sirius picked himself up, pulling Harry with him. He brushed his waistcoat off and then put his arms around his son and held the boy close.

It was so easy to make Harry happy. Hardly any bother at all, actually.

Sirius wanted to give his son the world, all of it, and he vowed to himself that he'd never stop trying to find ways to make his boy smile.

"Je suis très fier, mon fils," he whispered next to Harry's ear as he rubbed his son's back.

Harry's eyebrows raised and he pulled back a few inches so he could give his father a questioning look. "Um...what?"

Chuckling softly, Sirius just pulled him back into his embrace and gave him another tight squeeze.

"I'm very proud, my son."

The boy couldn't help the shy smile that spread all over his face as he closed his eyes and lay his head down on Sirius' shoulder. Perfectly content to let his father lavish him with affection, whether or not they had an audience watching.

"Merci, Papa."

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

Once the meeting broke up, Madame Maxime and Karkoroff had stormed out in a huff, furious that they were not completely getting their way with the arrangements for the Third Task. Hestia wasn't well known for putting up with anyone's nonsense and she wasn't about to be intimidated by the other school heads when it came to how she was going to perform her job, so she'd had no problem putting the pushy educators in their places.

Before the meeting, Remus had been sure that he'd be getting a workout fighting Harry's corner today, but after Hestia stepped into the ring, he'd been more than happy to stand back and let her hammer out the particulars with her velvet covered fist of iron.

"So how are you, Remus?"

Hestia looked up at her old friend as he leaned over the table to gather his copies of the rules and procedures for the Third Task. More than a week after the full moon, Remus wasn't looking as bad as he could, although he knew that he'd aged quite a bit since they last saw each other.

"As well as can be expected," he answered with a small smile. He wasn't exactly sure how to talk to her after all these years, especially since his furry little problem had been blasted across the pages of the Prophet for everyone to read about.

"I knew."

Stunned, Remus stood perfectly still for a moment before he was able to collect himself and move again. Clearing his throat, he struggled to school his features.

"Knew what, exactly?"

Hestia chuckled softly and shook her head as she reached out to gently grab his arm so he'd look at her.

"We were your friends," she said kindly as she took him by the hand. "Did you think it mattered to us? You weren't as subtle as you thought you were with the monthly disappearances and the new batch of injuries every time you came back. No one is that clumsy."

Choking slightly, Remus dropped into his seat, his eyes blinking rapidly as he took in the implications of what she was saying to him.

Was it possible that the whole school knew all that time he'd tried so hard to be careful?

"No," she answered his unspoken question with a firm shake of her head. "Just the people around you that cared for you. No one else would have paid any attention to James and Sirius being more crazy and secretive than usual around the full moon. They usually acted like a couple of barmy tossers most of the time anyway, so you needed to fit a lot of puzzle pieces together to work it all out."

Remus drew in a shaky breath and the slightly pale pallor of his skin began to regain some of it's healthier flush. It would have been his worst fear to be outed in front of the school as the monster that he was.

"Why didn't you say?"

Hestia smiled sadly, her sapphire eyes filled with compassion for the good and decent man sitting beside her.

"It's not how we saw you. You were the kind, patient prefect. The one who kept his spoiled toff mates in line when they drove us all mad with their pranks. You always watched out for us all like we were your little brothers and sisters. The handful of us that knew were never afraid of you."

"I..." Remus stuttered as he struggled to find the right words to express how he was feeling about this wholly unexpected revelation.

"It also probably didn't help your cause that Peter kept trying to get into Dorcas' knickers by promising to tell her a big secret about the lot of you," Hestia snorted, rolling her eyes in an effort to lighten the tension.

Briefly, Remus' eyes flared amber over the mention of the rat's name, but there was a sparkle of mischief on Hestia's face that calmed his inner wolf and he eventually settled for laughing softly as he shook his head.

"That's about right, I suppose."

The two old friends shared a silent moment of reflection before Remus caught a glance of Albus looking over in their direction. He sighed, knowing that a confrontation was on its way soon.

Effecting a disinterested air to avoid rousing suspicion, Remus turned his attention to rolling up the parchment he'd been jotting his notes down onto so he could put them away in his bag.

"So how did they manage to get you to agree to the job, Hestia?" he asked instead. "Last time I checked, you were happily playing professional Quidditch."

"I was," she answered, leaning back in her chair casually and giving Dumbledore a side-eye as the old headmaster engaged in a spirited chat across the room with the pushy little Weasley boy. "But I'm not as young as I used to be and there are only so many bludgers to the head a girl can take before she decides it's time to hang up her broom."

"Well, it's the Harpies' loss."

Smiling, Remus sat back in his seat and propped an ankle on his other knee as he looked over the lovely face of his old friend. Despite the fact that Hestia was a couple of years younger than the Marauders, she'd been on the Gryffindor Quidditch team with James and was almost like a little sister to Lily, so they'd all gotten to know her fairly well during their school years.

"Nah," she said, tossing her hair back with a practiced move that Remus remembered fondly. "They've got Cousin Gwenog coming up the ranks now. I've got a twenty galleon bet going that she makes Captain next year. She's a beater herself, so the sport will be kinder on her than it was on me since she can hit back."

Remus smirked at Hestia's faux modesty. She was still a very beautiful woman and she knew it.

"So tell me, how is Sirius the Heartbreaker doing these days?"

Hestia was studiously examining her short, manicured nails as if her question was merely perfunctory social intercourse between old acquaintances, but Remus wasn't fooled. The Marauders had always known about her crush on Sirius, but what Hestia didn't know was that it was the only time that James ever put his foot down when it came to Sirius' spirited love life. James had been too fond and protective of the young chaser to watch his Lothario of a best friend lavish his temporary affections on her.

"Sirius is," Remus paused and smiled, shaking his head, "a loving and dedicated father, to be honest. He's really been quite wonderful with Harry."

At the mention of Harry's name, Hestia looked up, a melancholy smile on her face that Remus returned as they both thought about their lost friends.

"I saw photos of him in the Prophet when all this Tournament business started," she said quietly. "Merlin, Remus, it was like looking at James twenty years ago. Who knew that crazy hair of his would be a dominant gene? I practically burst into tears over my morning marmalade."

"He looks quite a bit like his father," Remus agreed fondly, "and has some of James' personality traits at times. But he's a lot like his mother too, thank heavens. I don't think the wizarding world could survive an exact replica of James Potter being raised by Sirius Black."

The two of them laughed over the frightening prospect of what that would mean in pranking potential alone, but the good humor died down quickly as Hestia's eyes grew troubled.

"Poor Sirius," she mused. "I can't imagine what he must be feeling, having spent all those years locked up and being innocent the whole time. You don't exactly go to Azkaban for your health."

"It has been difficult for him on occasion," Remus admitted, "but he's one of the strongest people that I know. Plus, with Harry, he has something bigger than himself to focus on and he's pulling it off in fine form."

Hestia threw Dumbledore another appraising side-eye as she tapped the fingers of one hand on the round table in thought.

"Do you ever wonder why Dumbledore did nothing for him?" she asked Remus, never taking her eyes off of her old headmaster. "He was the Chief Warlock, after all, and we all knew back then that he was throwing his weight around for informants who had switched allegiances. As much as I was shocked when I heard about Sirius' arrest, I never let myself question his guilt. I was too devastated about James and Lily, and when Dumbledore let Sirius go to prison for it instead of fighting for him, as far as I was concerned, that was proof enough."

Remus sat in quiet contemplation for an uneasy moment as he too looked over in Dumbledore and Percy's direction. He had a feeling that Albus was patiently waiting for Remus' conversation with Hestia to end, so he could be ambushed for information on Sirius and Harry.

"I'm sorry to say that I don't know Albus as well as I thought I did," Remus admitted, drawing a surprised look from Hestia. "I'm quite guilty of following his lead regarding Sirius' innocence without question as well."

"Well, that's the thing with charismatic leaders, isn't it?" Hestia muttered cryptically. "All larger than life on the outside because the inside is rather unimpressive."

"Sounds like you've no good opinion of our former headmaster." Remus looked carefully at her with a raised eyebrow. "I don't recall such antipathy towards him during our school years."

"That was before we lost James and Lily," Hestia explained quietly, avoiding his eyes as she picked at a loose sliver of wood breaking away from the tabletop. "And Dorcas, and Benjy and Marlene. Fabian and Gideon. Caradoc and Edgar. The terrible thing that happened to Alice and her husband."

Her words hit a sensitive target and Remus swallowed hard at the butcher's bill of their lost friends. It was so much more painful to think about when it was all laid out like that.

"We thought we lost Peter as well," she continued, her strong voice wavering just a bit, "and then the horrible story about Sirius turning traitor was just another nail in the coffin. It makes you think of just what it was all for."

Hestia blinked hard and cleared her throat as she composed herself. Her normally unflappable face was flushed red with emotion and she fought to regain her poise since it wouldn't do to be seen looking weak now that she had a high profile public job.

"I don't know if you remember," she said as she smoothed her robes out of habit, "but my Dad was a Muggle. He disappeared one night just a week or so after I graduated. Never to be seen again. Mum was scared for me and wanted me as far away as possible until things quieted down so I was sent to stay with my aunt in the States. I should never have left home when my friends were risking and losing their lives."

"You can't think like that," Remus shook his head firmly. "Be glad you had a chance to get away from it all. That damn war practically wiped out our entire generation."

Hestia gave him a watery smile that didn't even come close to reaching her eyes. "See what I mean about you being kind?"

Taking her hand, Remus gave it a squeeze of comfort.

"I cried for a week after hearing about James and Lily," Hestia confessed. "And to learn that it was because of Sirius practically broke me. I didn't have the strength to come back here and face it all when the war ended, so I stayed in New York. I met Max and got married, and it was more than five years before I stepped foot in Britain again. And by then I'd learned that the great Albus Dumbledore isn't quite as popular in American wizarding circles as he is here."

"I didn't realize you were married," Remus remarked in surprise, neatly sidestepping her last comment. "The Prophet never mentioned a husband when reporting on you. Do you have a family?"

Hestia chuckled and shook her head at his intentional avoidance of the subject.

"I was married," she corrected him, "but Max had a problem with the whole fidelity thing. That's what happens when you marry a star Quidditch player who has women throwing themselves at him at every match. But it did mean that I spent a good deal of time around team recruiters, so when I was offered a chance to come home and tryout for the Harpies, I packed my things and left. But we're still on good terms. I think he appreciated being set free with minimal fuss."

Despite how nice it had been catching up, it was clear that their conversation was over by the tightness around Remus' eyes. Hestia hoped she hadn't pushed him too far since she truly had always been fond of him and was looking forward to them working together.

"As much as I'm enjoying our chat," Remus said as he glanced at Dumbledore and saw the older wizard shooting him a pointed look, "I should probably relieve Albus from Mr. Weasley's company before he goes completely barmy. He's not leaving until he has me in his clutches for a moment or two, so best to just get it over with. However, I do want to thank you for everything you did today to ensure that Harry's not put at a disadvantage. I assure you, Sirius will be very grateful. He's not in the best humor about this Tournament."

Hestia stood and smoothed out her robes again and then gathered her things.

"I can imagine not," she said, nodding. "Please tell him that I will do everything in my power to ensure Harry's safety. It's the least I can do for James and Lily. I think it's criminal that a boy that age was forced to compete in the first place, but there's not much I can do about it at this late stage."

"Just hearing that you said as much will bring Sirius solace enough," Remus assured her as he bent down to kiss her cheek. "If there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to let me know."

"It's been good to see you again, Remus," Hestia said as she patted him on the arm. "Perhaps we can all get together, once the Tournament is over? I'd love to meet James' little doppelgänger under less life threatening circumstances."

"I'm sure Sirius would be delighted."

The two parted, and as Remus watched Hestia leave through the large oak door, his heightened senses detected Albus' quiet approach from behind.

"A word please, Remus?"

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

"Feet down or trainers off, young man."

Harry looked up from his parchment and scowled at his father, but Sirius was studiously bent over his writing at his desk. Leaving his son wondering if the man had eyes all over his head since he always seemed to know just what Harry was doing.

Shaking his own head in irritation, the boy kicked off his shoes and then put his socked feet back up on the seat of the wing back chair next to his own in front of the fireplace. Rolling his shoulders, stiff from being hunched over his work too long, he sat back in the chair in a huff.

"I think Remus is trying to torture us with this History of Magic essay," he whinged. "Six feet, due tomorrow. He's as bad as Binns."

"Professor Lupin is making sure that you understand the material," Sirius corrected, looking up at his son with a raised eyebrow. "Which, I happen to know that you do, so you might just as well stop stalling and finish it."

"Yes, sir," the boy muttered peevishly, all pouty posture and grouchy-faced as he pulled the parchment back towards him. "Although I happen to know that Ron's essay is only four and a half feet."

"Then that's Ron's problem," Sirius said firmly, "but you are going to do the essay as assigned. It's not asking a lot."

Harry huffed quietly enough that his father wouldn't scold him for it, but got back to work anyway for a few more minutes before Sirius lifted his head back up again.

"I am pleased to hear that Ron is taking more of an initiative with his work, however," he said, a somewhat surprised smile on his face. "Do you think being here has been better for him academically?"

"Um..." Harry looked up, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, "Yeah, I guess so. I think it also helps that he's sort of obsessed with the Grangers' computer. I know that Hermione makes him study ahead before she agrees to take him down to the cottage at night to use it."

Sirius hummed and tapped his fingers on his desk for a moment. He'd been giving some thought to another idea lately that he was fairly sure would please his Muggle-raised son.

"I think it's time to visit my flat in London," he announced after a fashion. "I can have the floo connection reopened and, what's more, it's in a Muggle-friendly building. We can install a few computers there for you lot to use so we're not always barging in on Hugh and Jean and it will be a sort of pied-à-terre for us, so you and I can stay in the city on occasion for some fun. Remus and I could easily redo the Fidelius."

"Really?" Harry perked up in his chair with interest. "That would be brilliant!"

He loved the idea of having his own computer to use after being jealous of Dudley's for so long.

And if there happened to be an easy way for him and his friends to access London from Celestial Court, who was he to complain? All he'd have to do was think of a way to convince his overly protective father that they were old enough to go out and about on their own without adult supervision.

"I'm glad you think so," Sirius smiled. "I'll sort the details this week, and you and I will spend the day there on Sunday going through things and maybe take in a show or a picture."

"I'd like that."

Harry grinned enthusiastically at his father and then went back to his work with a bit more good humor than he'd had earlier. Feeling a fair amount of trepidation, Sirius watched his son and sighed, knowing that he was going to have to darken the boy's mood again, but the talk they needed to have was inevitable.

"Remus is actually at Hogwarts today," he said casually, doodling on his parchment in an effort to keep the conversation as light as possible.

Lifting his head slightly, Harry schooled his features, but Sirius wasn't fooled by the boy's instant irritation.

"Oh?"

"Yes, he's attending his first meeting as our school representative for the Tournament. They're going over guidelines for the Third Task."

Harry pressed his lips together, determined to not say anything combative. He'd been giving a lot of thought to the problems he'd had with Remus recently, especially after the talk he and Sirius had about the events surrounding Sirius' imprisonment. While Harry now had a better understanding of Remus' motives at the time, it didn't mean that he was quite ready to forgive and forget just yet.

Sighing, Sirius rubbed his mouth in contemplation and thought about what the best approach would be. The very last thing he wanted to do was pick another fight with his son about it all, but he also knew that it was important to the smooth operation of their little school and his little family circle to clear the air between Harry and Remus sooner rather than later.

Knowing his son as well as he did now, he suspected that Harry wasn't really as angry as he was trying to convince himself that he was.

"Remus does a lot for us, kiddo," he said at last, deciding that bluntness was the best course. "I understand your anger with him, I do, but I also think he's at least earned a fair chance to explain his side before you completely write him off."

Harry hummed noncommitally as he kept his eyes on his parchment. He'd known since they returned from the island that this discussion was coming, but it didn't mean he was ready for it.

This was going to be harder than I thought, Sirius said to himself with a sigh. He pursed his lips and continued to doodle for a few moments of awkward silence before he decided on a different approach.

"What would you think of me talking to Arthur and Molly about standing as your godparents?"

Honestly, he expected Harry to immediately jump on the opportunity to choose people that he was already quite fond of and considered extended family anyway, so it was fair to say that Sirius was more than a bit surprised when his son sat in silence for almost a full minute before responding.

"Did you even consider them before?"

Sirius sighed heavily at the question. Of course, it would be easier to lie and say that he hadn't, but Sirius wasn't in the habit of lying to his child. And certainly not about something so important to Harry under any circumstances. This was Harry's life they were talking about, and the boy deserved to know Sirius' honest thoughts on the matter.

"Yes, I did," he answered calmly, folding his hands on his desk so he could look at his son. "But ultimately I decided not to ask them for a couple of reasons."

That answer finally had Harry properly interested, so he put his homework aside and sauntered over to plop down in the chair in front of Sirius' desk, giving his father his full attention.

"Like what?"

"Well," Sirius leaned back and took a deep breath, composing his thoughts, "for starters, they already have a large family of their own to care for and I really wanted you to have godparents that could make you their priority."

He shrugged, not about to apologize for putting his kid first like any decent parent would do. It wasn't even a question of money that had him hesitant to tap the Weasleys for the job. An income could be arranged quite easily to take care of any financial obligations that Harry might bring with him in a worst case scenario, but that's not what he was worried about.

"Not that I don't have the utmost respect for the Weasleys," Sirius insisted, making sure that Harry could see the truth in his eyes, "but you've had to spend far too much of your life fighting for attention as it is. Godparents are meant to indulge and fuss over their godchildren and you should have someone who could do that without harming the relationship with their own kids. Ron might eventually resent you for taking even more of his parents' time and concern away from him."

Harry pursed his mouth, his forehead puckered, and Sirius could have sworn that he could see the wheels in his son's mind turning as he processed that.

"Besides which, Molly and I don't exactly always see eye-to-eye on what's best for you," he hedged carefully. "While I am incredibly grateful for all the kindness she has shown you in the past, and I freely admit that she's a good mother, I think making her your godmother might convince her that the title gives her an official say in how I raise you and, truthfully, that would likely cause a great deal of conflict between us with you stuck in the middle."

It took a moment of honest contemplation before Harry's shoulders sagged, and as much as he hated it, he realized that his father was right.

Mrs. Weasley was pretty opinionated on just about everything Harry-related, and honestly he wasn't exactly keen on the idea that she might decide at some point in the future that Harry needed to obey her more often than just in her home and her classroom. Sirius had already warned him last summer that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had permission to punish him if he got in trouble at the Burrow, and really that was about as much as Harry wanted to risk of Mrs. Weasley's temper.

His father could be strict, but somehow he was also pretty relaxed about most things, but Mrs. Weasley was always scolding and nagging her kids, even when they weren't doing anything wrong.

Harry had had enough of that at the Dursleys to last him for a lifetime.

"Okay, that's fair," the boy finally admitted. "But if not them, then who else would you ask?"

Sirius took a deep breath and rubbed his beard as he pondered the alternatives. Quite frankly, the list of potential candidates wasn't particularly long.

"Honestly?" he asked, shaking his head a little. "There aren't a lot of choices. One of the sad facts of war is that many don't survive it. Most of my friends, and those of your parents as well, are long gone. It's one of the reasons why I decided to reconnect with Andromeda. She's really the only blood family I have that I'd trust around you. There aren't many good people left from my past."

"I'm sorry, Papa," Harry said shamefully, hanging his head. He still had very strong opinions about her, but that didn't mean that he didn't feel incredibly guilty about depriving his father of his cousin's companionship.

"You don't need to apologize, little one," Sirius assured his boy. "I really do understand now why you feel the way you do. If I didn't have years of happy memories with Andromeda to make up for the hurt of not having her on my side after my arrest, it's unlikely that I could ever forgive her as well."

Harry sat in his chair in quiet contemplation for a moment as he tried to come to terms with a difficult situation.

He had a feeling that this was one of those tough choices in life that you had to get used to making as you got older, when the problems you faced every day became more serious than just annoying little things of no real meaning. Not that he hadn't already had a pretty tough life, what with the neglectful relatives and the psychotic killers chasing after him and all, but it was definitely more complicated than deciding which classes to take or how to navigate Ron and Hermione's next argument.

"Would my parents have asked Remus to be my godfather if you couldn't do it?" he asked quietly as he rubbed his fingers against the leather covered arm of his chair. He knew the answer but wanted to hear it confirmed anyway.

"In a heartbeat," Sirius answered with a nod. "They loved Remus very much and would have certainly trusted him with your care."

Harry bit his lip, his right leg bouncing up and down nervously as he pondered the answer. "But does it really matter? He couldn't have custody of me if..."

If something happened to you...was the unspoken part of that sentence.

"No, he couldn't," his father agreed, understanding the quiet part without needing to make his son say it. "Not with the way things stand in our world right now. But he could be your godfather in every other way. As a kind uncle or another voice of reason or support if you needed more than just me. Which would be fine with me, by the way. I trust him, and he loves you very much, even if he doesn't quite know how to say it."

The bouncing stopped and Harry blew out a deep breath.

"Then I guess it's okay to have him be godfather."

"You don't have to say that," Sirius reminded his son. "Especially if it's something you're only agreeing to for my sake or your parents'. You're of an age when your opinion on the subject matters and this isn't something that needs to be rushed."

Harry shook his head and straightened up in his chair. He'd made up his mind and that was that. He'd live with the consequences of his decision, whether it turned out to be a good thing or not.

"No, really," he decided, lifting his head to look his father in the eye. "It's not that I don't like him already, because I do, and I appreciate what he's done for me and especially for you. I guess, with the adoption coming up, I just got to thinking about how it could have been different before and it made me really angry with him. But I sort of understand now."

"I'm glad you feel that way," Sirius replied, a bit relieved. "He's really a good man underneath it all. I think he just got lost somewhere along the way, like a lot of us do, but I feel certain that he'd never let you down again."

Harry blew out a gust of air and then nodded as he drummed his fingers on the arms of his chair. His foot was tapping nervously, like a race horse impatient for the gate to open, and Sirius thought it might be time for them to go out and take a walk around the grounds before dinner to burn off some of that energy.

"Does he know?"

Sirius looked at his son as Harry stared a hole in the Persian carpet waiting for an answer to his question. He could tell that the boy was a little bothered by the idea that Remus might have already been told of Harry's rejection of him, and while Sirius had thought of doing so, he'd decided to wait until after their mini-break before speaking with his friend.

"No," he said to the great relief of the boy. "I wanted you and I to have this conversation first before any other decisions were made."

Nodding, Harry absently rubbed his left cheek again where his teeth were aching a bit. Ever since putting the Mandrake leaf in his mouth, he'd been careful to chew on only one side to avoid dislodging the leaf into his food, but it meant that the extra duty was really starting to irritate.

"But that doesn't mean that you shouldn't still talk to him about your feelings," Sirius advised as he got up from his desk and walked over to Harry's chair. "He'd want you to be honest with him and I know he'll understand. Open."

Sirius bent down and gently took Harry's jaw in his hand and waited for his son to open his mouth so he could confirm what he suspected had been causing his son's grouchy mood ever since his arrival in Sirius' office. After a brief look, he gave Harry's cheek a soft affectionate rub with his thumb and then waved his wand. A vial of bright pink liquid appeared on his desk that he grabbed and handed to the boy.

"Just a little pain soother for those tender gums," he said, indicating that Harry should drink the contents. "Don't be afraid to ask for help. I've been through this too, remember."

"Blech!" Harry grimaced as he swallowed the potion, but a few seconds later the soreness in his mouth receded and he sighed in relief. "Thanks. That's loads better."

Smiling, Sirius tousled his son's hair and then re-took his seat behind the desk. He glanced up at the clock and frowned. Speaking of Remus, he should have been back from Hogwarts by now and Sirius began to worry that there might have been some sort of problem at the meeting.

Or some problem with Albus.

But it was as if his old friend was reading his mind when the door to the office suddenly opened and Remus hurried inside looking a bit flustered. His forehead was scrunched up in a frown and he pursed his lips when he saw Harry sitting in front of Sirius' desk.

"Well, it's about time, Moony," Sirius greeted him with a smile, even though his eyes read concerned. "I was just about send out a search party."

"It was an informative afternoon," the werewolf muttered cryptically as he walked straight over to the table where Sirius kept his liquor. Without hesitation, he poured two tumblers of Firewhiskey and immediately downed half of one, bracing his hands on the table as steam shot out of both ears.

Since Remus wasn't generally a day-drinker, Sirius' eyebrows shot up in surprise as his heart began to hammer in his chest, and when the unnerved man finally walked over to them Sirius took the full glass that was offered with more than a bit of apprehension. Whatever had happened at Hogwarts was enough to flap the unflappable Remus Lupin, which was a pretty bad sign all around.

"Well, don't keep us in suspense, old man," the worried father managed to say calmly as he took a sip. His hand gripping the crystal tumbler a little more forcefully than entirely necessary as he worked to keep his imagination from running wild.

Still a little shaken, Remus drained the last of his glass and then cast an appraising look in Harry's direction before turning back to Sirius with a suggestive raised eyebrow.

"I don't have secrets from my son."

Sirius' firm tone left no room argument as he took another bracing sip and gave Remus a glare that dared his friend to challenge him on it.

"Especially when it's anything to do with Hogwarts or the damnable Tournament," he continued sharply, his eyes narrowed in annoyance when it looked like Remus would argue. "So you can just take a seat and share with the class because Harry's not going anywhere."

Pleasantly surprised to be taken seriously for a change, Harry shot his father a grateful look. He genuinely and truly hated being kept out of the loop regarding things that pertained directly to him just because he was a kid. Funnily enough, somehow Voldemort and his minions never seemed to get the memo to kindly sod off and leave Harry alone until he was of age and deemed worthy of being informed.

Frowning, Remus eventually took the seat next to Harry in front of Sirius' desk. The Firewhiskey he'd just downed was already hitting his empty, roiling stomach with a vengeance and he swallowed back a wave of nausea that had been threatening to make an appearance ever since he apparated outside the castle gates.

With one more concerned glance at Harry, sadly noting that the boy's green eyes already held a touch of battle-ready hardness that James' hazel orbs didn't acquire until well after the war started, Remus folded his hands in his lap, took a deep breath and said the words that he never thought he'd hear himself say.

"Albus Dumbledore is dying."

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

Under a very starry sky, Sirius stalked along the path towards the Quidditch pitch, the air cold enough that he was able to see his breath as he made his way. Harry's warm, woolen pea coat was folded carefully over his arm and he carried a large mug of hot chocolate in his free hand that he suspected the boy would need by now.

His son had been quiet and withdrawn during dinner, barely interacting with his friends who were ignorant of the information Remus had brought with him that afternoon. Sirius suspected that it wouldn't be long before Harry shared the details with the other kids, but for now it seemed that the boy was taking some private time to gather his thoughts on the subject.

A quick check of the third floor sitting room, that had quickly become the unofficial common room for the four students, revealed that Harry wasn't among them working on his studies, and Sirius had eventually decided to consult the map to track down his missing child.

He felt a touch of melancholy on seeing the boy's location. Harry was a lot like James when it came to finding comfort on the pitch during troubling times. It was a slightly painful reminder of his best friend, but there was a part of Sirius that was glad to see another one of James' traits carried on in their son. Even if it was one of sadness.

Sure enough, he spotted Harry about halfway up the bleachers, the boy's arms wrapped around himself as he shivered in the cold. Sirius didn't even think his son realized how cool the night breeze had become. Understandably, he was far too preoccupied mentally to notice little things like the rapidly dropping temperature in the air around him.

Moving swiftly, Sirius jogged up the stairs until he reached his son's row and then he made his way over carefully, not wanting to startle the distracted boy before Harry could notice him on his own. He knew when Harry realized he was there by the slight shift in the boy's posture, going from instinctively defensive to welcoming once he recognized his father's steps.

Sirius wasn't expecting a verbal greeting and he wasn't disappointed when his son just sat staring straight ahead to the empty, illuminated pitch without saying a word.

Taking a seat next to the silent child, Sirius wordlessly wrapped Harry's coat around his kid's narrow shoulders and flicked his wand to cast a warming charm on it. While Harry let out a little sigh of contentment, finally realizing just how cold he was, Sirius took his son's almost frozen hands into his own. He gently rubbed the icy fingers for a moment to get the circulation flowing normally again and then placed the steaming mug of cocoa into them.

"Drink that."

Harry still remained silent, but he obediently lifted the mug to his mouth and took a large sip while his father wrapped an arm around his shoulder and drew him nearer to his own warm body.

Sirius felt his son's chest shudder a little after swallowing, and he was fairly sure that it wasn't just because of the cold. His own childhood of suppressed emotions guaranteed that he knew what pushing back tears felt like. He bent over and pressed a kiss into Harry's hair, holding the boy close for a moment before leaning back.

"I know that you're a little shaken up right now, kiddo," he said softly as he ran his hand up and down Harry's arm. "It's okay to be upset, or angry or afraid. Whatever you need to feel about this, it's all okay. Don't push it down."

Raising the mug for another sip, Harry shifted a little closer to his father, knocking his knee against Sirius'. He'd needed some time alone to think, but he was glad to have Sirius' strong, solid presence next to him right now.

The news of Professor Dumbledore's impending demise had stunned him in a way that he couldn't have imagined. No matter how he currently felt about the man, the formidable headmaster had always seemed so invincible and to have verbal confirmation that he wasn't, was uncomfortably troubling.

"How about if I feel guilty?"

Harry cast a fearful glance at his father, his eyes squinting even though it was dark out. Of all the emotions he'd felt since Remus informed them, the one that had taken root the fastest over all the others in the uncomfortable hollow of his chest had been guilt.

"Guilty about what, little one?"

Sirius reached out and cupped the back of Harry's neck, his touch gentle but the intent perfectly clear. He wanted his son to look him in the eye while they discussed what in Merlin's name Harry could possibly be feeling guilty about.

Shrugging, Harry tried to look away but couldn't really. Not that his father was holding him too tightly, but it was a firm grip nevertheless when he would have stubbornly pulled away and ignored the question. He chewed on his bottom lip nervously for a few seconds before letting out a very deep sigh.

"Well, this is all about me, right?" Harry spat out the words like a foul oath, a look of disgust on his fact. "The only reason he had the ring in the first place was because it's a horcrux, and they're hunting them down because they have to be destroyed before I can kill Voldemort for good. So what happens when the next one is found? Who's going to die for that? Dumbledore's a great wizard and he couldn't even resist the temptation. What happens if you go out on the hunt? What if..."

"Whoa, hold on just a second."

Sirius held up a hand to quiet his son's abrupt and increasingly distressed rambling. Harry's shoulders were beginning to hitch as he got more and more worked up, the boy going from silent to being on the verge of hyperventilation shockingly fast.

"First," Sirius stated firmly, "this is not all about you. It's about that evil maniac targeting you who did terrible things to create the horcruxes in the first place."

Harry's face had quickly become flushed and irritated during his rant and Sirius clucked his tongue sympathetically as pressed his own cool fingertips to the hot skin of the boy's forehead and cheeks to soothe them a bit.

"Remember," he continued sternly, "you did nothing to bring about this situation. You are an innocent child caught up in terrible circumstances and I'm not going to let it destroy your life. I promise you that we will find a different way. One that doesn't involve you killing anyone or anyone killing you. Understand?"

"But.." Harry moved to protest, only to be quickly shut down by his father taking him gently by the shoulders and staring directly into his eyes.

"No buts," Sirius growled. "Your only job is to be a kid. Moody will track down the other horcruxes, and the adults in this scenario will find a way to destroy them without getting themselves killed in the process. What happened to Dumbledore is on him, no one else, and certainly not on you. He's powerful, yes. But still only a man, and men are flawed. He knew better and there's absolutely no reason you should be blaming yourself for his weakness."

He could tell that his son wanted to protest that last statement, but Harry clamped his mouth shut and took a few deep breaths in an effort to collect himself. This was one of the times that Sirius genuinely wished that Harry was even more like his Dad. James was a good man, but he didn't have a particularly strong guilt complex. He took the blame for things that were truly his fault and made amends, but he never let himself wallow unnecessarily.

Unlike Sirius.

"C'mere."

Holding out his arms, Sirius pulled Harry against his chest and let the boy be comforted by the love surrounding him. Harry could be so very strong when he needed to be, and Sirius was proud of that part of his son's character, but all too often it was forgotten by far too many that he was still just a boy, and boys get scared.

Sirius was a fully grown adult and he got scared often, so there was no reason why Harry should feel like he needed to grow up too fast and deal with these things he didn't have a hand in, in the first place.

"What about you? How are you feeling?"

Harry's quiet questions, muttered softly into Sirius' neck, took the man a little by surprise but he supposed he should have expected it. It had become natural for Harry to take his cues from Sirius in many ways, like most boys who sought to emulate their fathers. So, of course he'd want to know how Sirius was handling things.

"My thoughts," he began carefully, not wanting his smoldering animosity towards the headmaster to influence his son too much, "are complicated. But regardless of anything else, I think the side of the Light will lose one of its strongest fighters and that's unfortunate for all of us."

Harry hummed thoughtfully as he snuggled closer. He couldn't help thinking that he'd be significantly more devastated by the news of Dumbledore's failing health if he didn't have the steadfast comfort and security his father gave him.

"Will you go see him now?"

Grimacing, Sirius was glad that his son couldn't see his face at the moment. Parents tried hard to shield their children from unpleasantness as much as possible and he couldn't deny that Harry had the same respect for the headmaster that Sirius used to have himself before his imprisonment, so he could hardly blame the boy.

A meeting was an unavoidable eventuality at this point. Remus had mentioned how insistent Albus had been that Sirius come to talk to him at his earliest convenience, preferably with Harry in tow, and while Sirius wasn't in any kind of ignorance about the direction the conversation would take, he also couldn't deny that it was probably necessary under the circumstances.

"Yes, I will," he answered at length. "Perhaps not this week, but soon."

"May I come with you?"

Sirius deeply sighed at the hesitantly asked question. Harry had a right to accompany him for many reasons, but that didn't mean that Sirius was completely willing to subject his son to what was surely a well thought out and smooth manipulation to get the boy to accept what Albus deemed his 'destiny'.

"I'll have to think about that for a bit."

He didn't have to see his son's face to know that Harry didn't like that answer, but it was the only one the boy was going to get at the moment. Remus had said that Dumbledore had roughly a year left, so it wasn't as if Sirius needed to decide right this minute. Instead, he gave Harry a squeeze and vanished the empty mug from the boy's hands as Harry tiredly lay his head down on his father's shoulder.

They stayed like that in a comfortable silence for a few more minutes until the wind really began to pick up more than was tolerable. Despite his thick coat and warming charm, Harry shivered a little in his father's arms and Sirius sadly suspected that it was really a mix of nerves combining with the weather.

"Time to go in," he decided, releasing Harry enough to stand and pull the boy to his feet. "It's past curfew and you don't want to get into trouble with the headmaster, do you?"

A little smile peeked out from Harry's fretful face and he shook his head slightly as he let his father began to lead him down the stairs.

"No. I hear he's really mean."

Sirius turned and gave his son an exaggerated pout that succeeded in having the boy snort with amusement, his young face not entirely clear of its earlier worry but definitely getting better.

"But," Harry continued slightly hopefully, "I also heard that he really likes chocolate. And sometimes before bed he'll even let a student have one of the double fudge brownies that I know are in the kitchen if the student promises to really brush his teeth after?"

"Is that so?"

His mood lightening, Sirius grinned and slung an arm around his son's shoulders as they began the walk up to the main house. Harry fell in easy stride next to him and somehow they both just seemed to walk with a little more bounce in their steps.

"Well, he sounds like a terrific chap, then," Sirius mused as he dropped a kiss on Harry's head. "Let's go see if it's true."

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

"There will be no mucking about today, young man. Do you understand me?"

Knowing that Sirius' voice was tinged with worry and not anger, Harry stood obediently in front of his father, silent and attentive as he let Sirius scold him. He'd been looking forward to this day all week and he wasn't going to let anything interfere. If that meant accepting his father's strict rules for the outing without a word of complaint, then so be it.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Sirius pursed his lips into a frown as he gave his son's face a thorough assessment as to whether or not Harry was being genuine in his promise to do as he was told.

It's not that he wanted to lessen the boy's enjoyment of the day's activities, but with Sirius throwing aside his usual caution in favor of giving his son a truly memorable experience by reserving places for them all in the top box, it was a certainty that their presence at the match was going to be known to a fair number of people.

And quite possibly not all of them friendly.

"I mean it," he warned with a raised finger. "Any nonsense and we're coming straight home, and there'll be no more Quidditch matches for you until you bring your own grandchildren to see one."

By supreme strength of will, Harry managed to not roll his eyes at Sirius' stressed absurdity.

He knew that his father's present agitation came from a place of concern and love, and while it was a little grating, it was better than the alternative. At least Sirius cared that Harry was kept from harm's way, and the warm feeling of happiness that bubbled up in the boy's chest soothed any nerve that might be rubbed a little raw over the restrictions placed on him.

"I'll be careful, Papa," Harry promised sincerely.

Wanting to forestall any other last minute admonishments, Harry leaned forward and hugged his father. By now he knew that Sirius did best under stress when he could feel for himself that his son was safe and sound. A little trick that Harry had been picking up on steadily since getting burned during the First Task.

Sure enough, as Sirius wrapped his arms around the smiling teen, Harry could feel the tension bleeding out of the man's frame.

"I do want you to have fun today," Sirius assured his son as he gripped Harry just a little tighter than normal. "Just have some sympathy for my poor blood pressure and stay in sight."

"I will."

Harry chuckled fondly against the soft leather of his father's jacket, breathing in the cedar and spices scent that had begun to mean home to him as he stood quietly and allowed Sirius to hug him for as long as he needed to. Truthfully, he didn't even know how his father managed to talk himself into taking everyone to the match today in the first place as the man had been absolutely opposed to any public outing in the wizarding world ever since they left Hogwarts.

So Harry wasn't going to make it any harder on his father than he knew it already was.

They were joined in the entry hall a few minutes later by the rest of the group. Because there were enough magical adults and house elves in their party, it had been decided that they would be apparating to the stadium instead of bothering with the hassle of getting a portkey. Sirius was taking Harry, of course. Remus had Neville. Arthur and Molly were taking Ron and Hermione and Hugh and Jean would be traveling with Bicky and Lolly as they already did several times during the week.

It wasn't without a touch of irony that the Muggles now had far more experience in traveling by apparition than the magical kids did.

Their exclusive reservation in the top box meant that there was no waiting in line for their tickets, so they had plenty of time to spare when they arrived on the outskirts of the stadium a full hour before the whistle was set to blow. That way they could wander a bit and see the sights before getting seated. The kids were all a bit nauseous from travel as they caught their breath upon landing and the Grangers were looking around in confusion, seeing nothing but rolling green hills for miles around them.

"Charms," Sirius said simply as he patted Hugh on the back. "We'll get you through the perimeter and then everything will appear. Just be aware. It might be a little disconcerting at first."

Disconcerting was a word that had rapidly become part of the Grangers' everyday vocabulary, but thankfully they both found that they were getting pretty good with rolling with the magical punches.

Once the group was past the apparition barrier, Hugh and Jean both startled suddenly when they were immediately assaulted by the sights and sounds of hundreds of witches and wizards milling about outside the enormous stadium. It was like being in a completely dark and silent room and suddenly having the lights come on and a wild party already in full swing around you.

Hermione let out a little cry of excitement when she saw one of the vendor booths selling omnioculars. Grabbing her parents hands she insistently began tugging them over.

"Mum! Dad! You have to see these! They're terribly clever."

Behind her, Harry groaned and smacked his forehead. "Why didn't we think of bringing ours? This whole time they've just been sitting on the shelf in my room."

Laughing, Sirius slung an arm around his son and began to lead Harry over to the booth as well while Ron and Neville charged over to the vendor selling bright orange team scarves.

"I'm sure your doting Papa would be willing to buy you another pair," he teased the boy as he pulled out his bulging money pouch. "And a scarf and a hat and a program. Whatever you want."

"You don't have to do that," Harry protested, his cheeks pinking. "Just seeing the match is enough, you know."

Despite the opulence he was constantly surrounded by, occasionally it was still hard for Harry to have Sirius' wealth lavished on him so easily. A lifetime of deprivation meant that Harry still experienced sporadic bursts of awkwardness when faced with too much of his father's generosity.

You could only be told so many times in your young life that you were worthless and a burden before it was firmly imprinted on your very soul, and sometimes it was almost impossible to think otherwise.

Sirius stopped in his tracks and took his son by the shoulders, staring intently in the insecure green eyes.

"Getting little treats won't make you the beast that your cousin is, little one," Sirius said firmly, knowing his son's fears. "There's nothing wrong with allowing your father to indulge you within reason."

More recently, Sirius had learned to avoid clichéd phrases like 'You deserve this' when faced with a situation where he had to convince his son to accept the every day gifts that most loving parents regularly bestowed on their children. Apparently, that was one of the Dursleys' most common refrains for the rampant gratification of their monstrous offspring's every whim.

'Dudders, you deserve this!'

It was enough to make Sirius sick.

Hearing the sincerity in his father's words, Harry let out a deep breath and then nodded. He really did kind of want the souvenirs.

"Don't worry," Sirius assured his kid with a smirk as he started to lead him over to the booth again, "I'll let you know when you're becoming a brat."

In the end it was just easier for Sirius to treat everyone. By the time their little party was making the arduous climb up to the top box they were all loaded down like pack mules with scarves, hats, banners, pennants, omnioculars and programs. Because the top box was neutral and had no team affiliation, Hermione and Jean decided to show support for the Harpies, their emerald green banners waving in a sea of shocking orange.

Sirius kept a hand on his son's shoulder as he led the group to their seats. He even recognized a few people here and there, but luckily no one that set off his internal radar for trouble. With school still in session, it was a mostly older crowd who thankfully had better manners than to make a big deal out of the presence of the infamous Sirius Black and the Boy-Who-Lived.

They were sitting in prime viewing position and Harry and Ron both could barely believe their luck when they realized that there were several former players for both teams just a couple of rows ahead of them.

"That's Joey Jenkins!" Ron hissed in excitement as he painfully elbowed Harry in the side, ignoring the annoyed grunt he got in return.

Looking in the direction that Ron was pointing, Harry grinned widely when he recognized the beater that he'd seen in his well loved Flying with the Cannons book.

"And there's Valmai Morgan," the eager redhead crowed, practically bouncing in his seat as he tugged Harry's jumper sleeve. "She was one of the best chasers that the Harpies ever had! Ginny is going to be massively jealous she missed this."

Neville got in on the excitement too and the three boys continue to fawn over their close proximity to the sports legends. Sirius smiled and shook his head fondly as he directed the house elves to begin serving the snacks they'd prepared for the match. With it being past their usual lunch time, Harry and Ron pounced on the meat pasties and chips like they hadn't eaten for a month, the thrill of their surroundings working up an appetite.

"So are we the first Muggles to see something like this?" Hugh asked as he took a sip from his pint of lager.

"No." Sirius shook his head as he passed a handful of napkins to his messy kid with a pointed look at Harry's malt vinegar covered fingers. "Quidditch players can be Muggleborn just like anyone else. They want their families to be able to see the matches too."

"The charms are only to protect the Statute of Secrecy," Remus explained further. "But when a Muggle that knows about magic is with one of us, we can get them past the spells that would normally distract them away from the area. That's really all there is to it."

While Sirius was smiling at his son's obvious enjoyment, he felt Remus nudge him and when he looked over he saw his friend staring in the direction of entrance to the top box where a familiar looking witch was just making her appearance.

"Is that?" he asked, his eyebrows drawing together as he took a good look at her face.

"Hestia," Remus confirmed, nodding. "It didn't even occur to me that she'd be here today, but of course she would be, wouldn't she?"

He'd told Sirius about Hestia's new position at the Ministry and also of her promise to keep Harry as safe as possible. It had been music to the worried father's ears to know that someone who'd also been close to James and Lily would be looking out for the welfare of their son. In truth, Sirius meant to send her a note of thanks but with classes and a trip to Stonehenge for the children on Thursday, time had just gotten away from him this week and he'd never managed it.

It didn't take long, however, for Hestia to notice them either, and before they knew it she was striding up the staircase to their row and making her way over to their group, a charming smile on her pretty face.

"Well I see at least a couple of ladies with taste among you scoundrels," she teased, indicating the green banners that Hermione and Jean were holding.

Ron practically choked on his pasty as he recognized her and he couldn't manage more than a rambling squeak of something that sounded decidedly like a skipping phonograph.

"He-he-he-he.."

"Hestia Jones," the amused witch introduced herself to the adults she didn't recognize. "Here to cheer on the ladies of my old team. Remus, you rascal! You didn't say anything about being here today when I saw you at Hogwarts."

"I didn't know," he responded, holding his hands up in surrender. "Honestly. Sirius sorted it all out while I was at the meeting that day and only told me after."

She winked at him playfully before turning her attention to Sirius who was looking at her with a sad smile on his face. They'd both changed a lot and been through some terrible things since they'd last laid eyes on each other at James and Lily's wedding.

"How are you, Sirius?"

Hestia's voice was soft, full of regret and remorse. Ever since finding out about his innocence last year she'd thought of him hundreds of times and all of the suffering he'd been unfairly subjected to. She wondered how different he was now to the flirtatious prankster she'd known back then.

"I'm well, Hestia," he answered pleasantly. "And I wanted to thank you for your kind words to Remus. It's really meant a lot to me."

The two of them locked eyes for just a few seconds before she looked away and turned her attention to where Harry was staring at her curiously.

"My goodness," she breathed, struggling to keep her composure. "No one would ever question your paternity."

Harry shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny and he might not have managed a civil word if the strange woman hadn't started laughing.

"James practically bathed in Sarson's too," she added with a wink, bringing a surprised smile to the boy's face. "Lily refused to snog him until he'd swallowed half a roll of Parma Violets after eating his chips."

The memory caused both Sirius and Remus to chuckle, each of them having forgotten that little detail.

"Well, she did always have a fondness for anything floral," Sirius confirmed, a touch of melancholy swirling in his silver eyes as he remembered his best friend's consistently purple tongue from the over-consumption of his love's favorite sweet.

A cheer in the distance alerted them that the whistle was about to blow and Hestia looked thoughtful for a moment before she made a decision.

"I've got to go in a moment, but since you're all here today," she said with a large smile on her face, "why don't you join us for the after-party? The teams book The Green Dragon following each match, no matter who wins. It's a smashing time and I'd love to have you come as my guests. I'll introduce the kids to all the players and maybe get them some autographs?"

Sirius hedged, his eyebrows knitted skeptically as he looked over at his son. These kinds of events could get rowdy and he wasn't sure that it was safe enough to bring Harry when he was already worried enough about the boy's safety.

"Oh, Ginny would love that," Molly exclaimed. "Imagine how thrilled she'll be coming home for the Easter holiday and finding a signed pennant of her favorite team!"

"Papa, please?"

Sighing, Sirius saw the hopeful pleading plastered on the face of his child and immediately knew that any planned opposition on his part was already futile. There was no way he could turn Harry down when the boy obviously wanted this so badly and still be able to face himself in the mirror tomorrow morning.

"It would have to be an early night," he stipulated, sternly looking at his son even as his words were directed at Hestia, "because the children have their Astronomy lesson this evening, but yes, thank you Hestia, we'd be delighted."

Harry the other boys cheered loudly, looking at each other like they'd just won the House Cup, while the Weasley's beamed and explained to the Grangers the great honor that had just been bestowed on their group.

In the midst of all the excited commotion, Hestia leaned closer to whisper to Sirius, a pained smile on her pretty face as she watched Harry and his friends chatter enthusiastically about who they might meet.

"Papa?"

"His idea," Sirius shrugged helplessly, although she could clearly see the love in his eyes for James and Lily's boy. "We neither of us could stand the thought of taking the Dad title from James."

Understanding completely, Hestia reached out and squeezed Sirius' hand in mutual loss.

"He'd be pleased," she assured him, the certainty in her words comforting him. "Don't ever doubt that."

Fighting to keep his composure in such a public place, Sirius squeezed her hand right back as Harry threw him a big smile that reminded Sirius so much of his lost brother that it just about took his breath away.

"I hope you're right."

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