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

44. Chapter 44

A/N Sorry for the long wait. Summer always seems to be so ridiculously busy that finding time to write regularly is hard. My apologies if I didn't respond to your reviews on the last chapter. I genuinely appreciate them all! As usual, please forgive any typos. I'm sure I need to take three or four more passes before I've done the final edits, but I get to a point where I have to stop reading the same chapter over and over for a while in order to find them.

To those that felt that Harry should not have gotten away with scaring Sirius in the last chapter, well, Harry agreed with you ;) Just a bit more drama and a little more fluff as Harry and Sirius are on holiday. Book Harry always seemed unrealistically unbothered by all the trauma he suffered, while movie Harry was generally too polite to talk about it. I think that a Harry with a loving father would react much differently than either of his other versions, so here it is. Enjoy!

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

Sirius wasn't particularly surprised that Remus' room at the chateau was empty when he and Harry returned from London.

Not empty empty, but it was clear that his friend had retreated somewhere else before the full moon, and Sirius had a pretty good idea as to where. Although Remus had moved into Celestial Court's main manor full time once they'd established the school, he hadn't entirely quit the small cottage on the grounds, especially as it was physically and magically reinforced to keep a werewolf contained during a transformation.

As much as he would have liked to, Sirius wasn't going to be joining Remus tonight for a romp in the woods. The children needed to start preparing their potions as soon as the moonlight was shining in precisely the right place, and while he wanted Harry and his friends to have the experience of doing it themselves, he was planning on being there with them just in case something went wrong.

It wasn't in any way safe for Moony to be running about in the open, no matter how much control the Wolfsbane let Remus have over his more predatory mental state.

Besides, Remus already knew what the plans were for this evening, so Sirius was relatively confident that he'd find his friend holed up at the cottage, prepared to take the wolfsbane potion and pass the night sleeping as a tame wolf.

Although their argument had weighed heavily on him, Sirius let yesterday pass without reconciling with his oldest friend since he was of a mind that a little time and distance wasn't necessarily the worst thing after it all became so heated so quickly. He really didn't want a repeat of that, and as it had been a beautiful day in London he just wanted to spend some father-son time with his kid before meeting up with the ladies. Then of course they'd had the encounter with Petunia, with Sirius still impressed by his own ability to keep his temper in check as well as he had.

The miserable bitch had escaped without injury, hadn't she?

Actually, seeing her so clearly flustered, he wished he could have been a fly on the wall when that horse faced, bony necked biddy had to explain the horrible lies she and that great oaf husband had told about Sirius' boy.

Sometimes justice did come. It was just a little slow.

Harry had kept his thoughts to himself about the encounter the whole rest of the day, right up to when Sirius put him to bed last night, and really the concerned father hadn't wanted to leave his son to pop back to the estate, even for a few short minutes, to track down his friend and make peace, especially when they were coming back to the manor today anyway.

He wouldn't be surprised if Harry was more upset than he'd let on. Seeing Petunia was bound to bring up some terrible memories, and if Harry had a nightmare and needed his father, Sirius wasn't going to be anywhere else than right at home with him.

He'd never make that mistake again if he could help it.

But once it was daylight, it really was time to stop procrastinating and head back. And with tonight being the full moon, Remus was likely already feeling a bit raw and Sirius didn't want his friend to feel abandoned at a time when he was most vulnerable.

So he and Harry had returned to the manor a little after noon where they'd had lunch together before Sirius retreated to his office to handle a bit of necessary correspondence that was waiting for him to address before deciding to head out to the cottage.

He actually hadn't seen Harry since their midday meal and he wanted to let his son know where he could be found just in case he was needed, and because it was a beautiful day, he assumed that his fly-happy kid would be out on the pitch. But before Sirius trudged all the way out there in completely the opposite direction of where he was ultimately headed, he instead strode over to the broom cupboard by the back doors to confirm that Harry's Firebolt Supreme was at least missing.

Only it wasn't.

It was right where it usually was, next to Sirius' own slightly inferior original model Firebolt and the rest of the odd assortment of brooms they kept for Harry's friends to use while visiting.

Sirius frowned and scratched his beard since it was very odd that his son wouldn't immediately charge out to the pitch when the sky was bright blue, the temperature mild and nothing else was pressing on his schedule. If given the choice, Harry would practically live out there if Sirius allowed him to, and the fact that he wasn't there currently gave his father a moment of pause and concern.

Of course, it was probably nothing to really be worried about.

Although, now that he was thinking about it, Harry had been relatively quiet all morning at the flat.

Sirius had noticed because, when it was just the two of them at home, Harry was usually a bit more talkative than he'd been earlier, but both of them had also been up in the middle of the night because of the storm so he just assumed his son's lack of chatter was a result of the interrupted sleep. Since Harry didn't need to be awake at any particular hour, Sirius had let him have a bit of a lie-in, and the boy had eventually stumbled out of his bedroom just after nine o'clock and grunted a greeting in Sirius' direction before grabbing a bowl, a spoon, the jug of milk from the refrigerator and a box of some kind of appalling Muggle cereal called Coco Pops.

The sight of that last item triggered Sirius' paternal reflex and he winced as he watched his kid dump milk on a bowl of what was basically chocolate flavored sugar crumbles.

Not that chocolate wasn't an absolutely marvelous thing in Sirius' opinion, but when it came time for a healthy breakfast for a still growing boy, he would have preferred to feed his son something a bit more hearty and nutritious. Long gone was the inexperienced godfather that had let Harry feast on sweets at all hours of the day when they first lived together.

But he wasn't about to say anything regarding the choice of food in this case.

Yesterday evening, on their way home from the show, they'd stopped at a local market that was still open for a few groceries for the flat and Sirius had been pleased to see Harry silently add the cereal box to the small collection they had placed on the checkout counter. Sadly, Sirius could tell by the way his son wouldn't even make eye contact with him that Harry was worried his choice wasn't going to be allowed for some reason.

Which was just absurd.

Sirius would buy the store's entire supply of the cereal if that's what his son wanted.

He'd leaned over to tell his son to go and grab a second box just in case, which Harry did with a smile big enough to light up half of London and into the plastic sack they went. So this morning Sirius bit his tongue and didn't say a word when his sleepy kid took his bowl and plopped down in front of the television where Harry was soon watching some sort of cartoon show, that truthfully looked a little too mature for young children to even be considered a cartoon in Sirius' opinion, as he noisily munched on his breakfast.

It was such a typically normal teenage boy thing to do that Sirius couldn't help but wonder if maybe spending more time in the Muggle world wasn't necessarily a bad thing for his normally overburdened wizard son.

Despite his pleasure over Harry's seemingly contented attitude, the protective father also needed all of his willpower in order to suppress the urge to at least scramble a few eggs for his son to have with his diabetes in a bowl. Instead settling for walking over to the sofa and holding out Harry's morning vitamins in front of him with a pointed look.

However, after that, despite knowing that they were heading home after breakfast, Harry dragged his heels about getting ready and Sirius decided that the boy probably just wanted to enjoy the telly as long as he could, so he'd patiently waited for an hour longer than he'd planned before finally telling his son it was time to go. Once they arrived at Celestial Court and dropped off all the shopping they'd done in London, Sirius fed his kid two generous servings of a marvelous chicken and mushroom pie with a side of fresh fruit that made him feel better about his overall parenting and, after they had eaten, father and son parted company.

Now, with the sun shining high in the sky, Sirius naturally just assumed that Harry was headed outside.

Shrugging, he could only guess that the boy had decided to have a more low key kind of day and was holed up in one of the sitting rooms that the kids had claimed for study and recreational purposes. All teens needed a place to just be themselves, and knowing that they were probably missing the camaraderie of the Gryfifindor common room, Sirius had given them free rein to take over whatever boltholes they wanted, away from the prying eyes of their professor parents.

If Harry wasn't in the air, then surely he was lounging in one of those rooms reading the latest Seeker Weekly that had been waiting for him by his plate in the dining room. Shrugging, Sirius flicked his wand.

"Accio Sprog Map!"

He didn't want to spend an eternity tracking his son down when there were easier ways to find him. Immediately in the distance there was a light banging sound as the map escaped its confines from the desk in his study, and a few seconds later it was whizzing towards his outstretched hand. Once it was in his grasp, Sirius tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear I'm an overprotective git."

Within seconds a complete map of the estate spread over the formerly blank parchment. Because most of the people that lived there full time were away at the moment, it wasn't hard to find the little dots representing the ones currently on-site. A little dot labeled Moony was in the small cottage just as Sirius suspected, but it was the dot labeled Sprog that had him shaking his head in confusion.

His room?

As a rule, Harry didn't like spending time in his room unless he was actually sleeping.

Sure, he liked his room well enough, as Sirius had been very diligent about making it as comfortable and cozy as possible, but it wasn't really a place that Harry ever gravitated to by choice when he had the rest of the house at his disposal. A habit that Sirius suspected was a result of his son having been locked up in his bedroom or, worse, that blasted cupboard by the Dursleys so often.

It was also one of the reasons why he tried hard to not confine Harry to his room as punishment when he got into trouble.

Of course Sirius had sent Harry to his room on a handful of occasions, but it was usually done with the understanding that he'd be going right to bed soon after. Not because Harry was going to be forbidden from leaving it for a long period of time.

So Harry willingly being in his room in the middle of a gorgeous afternoon was a worrying thing, which made Sirius immediately turn for the stairs. There was a slim chance that his son might not be feeling well and actually wanted to be in his bed, although on the couple of occasions that Harry had felt a bit under the weather he'd always sought out Sirius for relief and comfort first.

It made Sirius more than a little confused since his son had appeared fine all morning at the flat as well as during their lunch after their arrival, but then again Harry wasn't always entirely forthcoming about his overall well-being either and it had been an exciting couple of days. What's more, the dot didn't appear to be moving, which made the concerned father even more than a little anxious. Turning, he bolted up the stairs, taking two at a time in his haste to get to his son's room.

With a bit of trepidation, not quite overpowered by his fear, he knocked on the door and he heard his son's distracted voice on the other side.

"Come in."

Sirius walked inside with a barely concealed sense of urgency, which immediately eased just a fraction when he saw his son sitting on his bed in his socked feet, back against the headboard and with a book propped on his knees and looking perfectly fine.

"Harry?" he asked still a bit anxiously as he made his way over to his son's side. "Are you alright, little one? Is everything okay?"

In response, Harry's eyebrows raised as he looked at Sirius like he'd just taken leave of his senses.

"Sure," he said, shrugging.

Even more confused now, Sirius took a good look at his son's face to see if there was any evidence of fever flushed skin or or other physical injury, but didn't find anything at first glance that jumped out at him.

"What are you doing in here, kiddo?"

"I'm reading ahead in my Transfiguration book," Harry answered as he lifted his book to show his father the cover like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Why?"

Now thoroughly confounded, Sirius sat down on the bed next to Harry and leaned over to palm his son's forehead and cheeks to see if the boy had a fever that he wasn't willing to mention. Harry patiently allowed it, but he was definitely staring at Sirius funny.

"I feel fine, Papa," the boy insisted, ducking his head away irritably when it seemed that Sirius hadn't found what he was looking for yet and was planning on taking a second pass around Harry's face until he did. "What's with the exam?"

With a furrowed brow, Sirius leaned back and folded his hands in his lap as he pursed his lips and gave his son another visual once over. Obviously he was relieved beyond measure that Harry wasn't unwell, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right here.

"Well, it's a gorgeous day outside," he answered, nudging his head in the direction of the large windows where the sunlight was streaming in. "And for some reason, my son, who would rather be up in the air on his broom than just about anywhere else in the world, is sitting in his room during the holiday and reading a textbook for a class that he has no current assignments for."

Harry's eyes flickered briefly before he studiously looked back down at the book in his hands, his lips tightly shut.

"So," Sirius continued, an eyebrow raised as he scrutinized his son's guilty demeanor, "I'm wondering why he's on his bed studying if he's feeling perfectly fine. Especially since I can barely drag him into his room when it's actually time for him to go to sleep without a half dozen arguments on the unfairness of bedtimes every night. Can you help explain that?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged again, affecting an air of nonchalance, "I would have thought that my headmaster father would be proud of me for being so studious instead of goofing off."

A few months ago, Sirius would have probably bought that statement. Maybe even felt a little guilty for being monstrous enough to make Harry think that his school work came before anything else, including some well earned fun. But after almost a year of parenting, the Sirius of today knew his son's tells well enough to immediately hear the lie in Harry's slightly nervous tone.

"I'm proud of you every day," he countered instead, "which you know very well. Now try again, please."

Averting his eyes again, Harry fidgeted a little which only reinforced Sirius' belief that the boy was hiding something. Unlike James, Harry couldn't lie to save his life when he was nervous, which was good for Sirius, but bad for Harry since he often found himself in tight spots.

"Look," Harry said, letting out a huff of exasperation, "I'm just a little tired and I thought I would take it easy this afternoon. Is that a crime now?"

Harry's unconvincing answer, bordering on rude but not quite enough to get him scolded, had Sirius pursing his lips into a frown.

At first glance, Harry did look perfectly fine, the trademark signs of flagging energy that Sirius had learned to identify on his child completely absent. But besides the fact that he didn't particularly like his son being dishonest with him, he also wasn't about to go off to do verbal battle with Remus until he knew what was going on with his kid.

"No." Sirius shook his head and stood up from the bed. "Of course it's not a crime. If you're tired, then you're tired, and if it was the evening then I'd probably just send you to bed early so you got a good night's sleep. But don't forget that we're wizards. Which means that you don't actually have to be stuck indoors on a such a lovely day when I can do something about that. I'll be back in a minute with a Pepper-Up potion for you."

"No!" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. Sirius turned back around to look at him with a raised eyebrow and Harry, realizing that he'd just wildly overreacted, slumped a little on the headboard. "I mean...I don't need a potion. I just want to stay in my room this afternoon. Why is that such a problem?"

"It's not a problem," Sirius assured him with a shake of his head as he worked his way back over to the bed. "But it's also not like you either."

There was a part of Sirius that really just wanted to drag the truth out of his kid, no matter how long that took. There was also another part of him that knew he sometimes needed to just let a teenage boy be a teenage boy, and if Harry truly wanted to hide away for a few hours in the room Sirius had taken great pains to make a comfortable place for him, then who was he to judge?

"That being said," he continued with a slight shrug as he gave in, "if you really want to just sit quietly in here for a while, then you certainly can. But little one, if you are that tired then I'd prefer you put the book away and take a short nap so you can still wake up early enough to enjoy the rest of the this glorious afternoon once you're feeling a bit better."

Harry looked like he swallowed a bug as he dropped his head back to the book propped on his knees. "I will if you tell me I have to."

"That's not..." Sirius sighed deeply as he sat back on the bed, feeling like he was failing miserably at this conversation as he reached out to cup Harry's chin in his hand. "Okay, kiddo. You win. If you want to sit in here and read, then go ahead. Far be it for me to stop you if you truly want to work on your studies."

Nodding, Harry pulled his face out of Sirius' gentle hold and opened the book back up to the page he was reading earlier. Sirius frowned but didn't press.

"Alright," he said, getting back up and heading towards the door. "You have a bit of break. I'm going to head down to Remus' cottage and speak with him about our little tiff the other day. So if you need me, come down there or ask one of the elves to fetch me. I do feel rather badly for being so short with him and owe him an apology, and I also want to make sure that he's all set with the wolfsbane, because even though I brewed enough for the week, accidents do happen sometimes."

Wincing, Harry closed his book again and looked up. "I really want to apologize to him too. May I come with you? I'd promise to only stay long enough to say I'm sorry and then come right back."

"No," Sirius answered shaking his head. "Not right now, anyway. The full moon is tonight which you know means that Remus isn't going to be in a particularly good mood. I'm pretty sure he's already forgiven you anyway, and while you do need to apologize to him at some point soon because you were horribly rude, he wouldn't want you to see him when he's not quite himself. He won't mind me barging in since Moony is quite used to having Padfoot around on the days he's getting ready to transform."

Harry nodded and fiddled with the book cover. Remus had patiently explained to him about how the werewolf's mind works during the final days approaching the full moon. Something that Harry had forgotten while they were in London. If he had really thought about it then, he would have realized that Remus' control over his emotions that morning was much weaker than it usually was, which explained his unusually short temper.

"Take a rest," Sirius continued brightly, "and when I come back we could maybe go for a short fly on the motorbike before dinner."

He watched as Harry's face perked up for just a second before the boy schooled his features and opened the book again.

"No, thank you," Harry muttered, his head back down as he shifted to get a little more comfortable. "I should just stay in here today."

Should?

The concern returned with a vengeance and Sirius was heading back to the bed before Harry even realized what he had said, but once the boy did his eyes closed and his shoulders slumped.

Busted.

"What does that mean," Sirius demanded as gently as he could. "You should just stay in here today?"

"Nothing, Papa," Harry huffed trying to rally as best as he could. "Just that if I'm tired, I probably should spend the afternoon in my room resting."

The boy's eyes were darting everywhere but looking at Sirius' face, so he knew that his son was lying through his teeth. He simply couldn't figure out why.

"Nope," he said, shaking his head, "that's not going to work right now. Try again."

After a few seconds, Harry finally raised his head enough to look at Sirius imploringly. "Papa pleeease. Just let it go?"

Sirius would have liked to. Really and truly.

It would be so much easier to just accept Harry at his word since he already had enough stress on his plate with his plan to head down to Remus' cottage for the slice of humble pie that he'd surely have to eat. But a parent doesn't get to just walk away when you know that your kid is obviously hiding something that's more than just an adolescent mood swing.

Nothing good ever came out of that.

Harry fidgeted, but kept his mouth tightly shut, unwilling to give away even one more hint of what the actual problem was, and Sirius was using every auror-trained power of observation that he had in his mental wheelhouse to try and figure out the mystery. A dozen different possibilities cycled through his analytical mind until a sudden wave of realization passed over him. Lifting his eyebrow at his son, he watched Harry fretfully stew since he was pretty sure the boy knew he'd just been caught out.

Unfortunately for them both, this reminded Sirius of a time very much like the one last summer involving the incident with Harry going into the grove.

He vividly remembered the fear and the anger he'd felt while he tried to discern just how badly his son had been affected by the horticultural scourge that not even fiendfyre would burn down. The helplessness and frustration he'd practically suffocated on afterwards, when Harry steadfastly refused to respond to Sirius' demand for answers.

At a loss in the absence of any kind of explanation for Harry's behavior or even the barest apology for it, Sirius finally had no choice but to put the boy over his knee and spank him for breaking their most absolute rule.

But then had come the frightening way Harry responded during the smacking, which is to say that he didn't. And because their relationship was still new and Sirius already worried constantly about being too harsh with his then godson anyway, he'd stopped immediately to ensure that in his anger he wasn't accidentally going overboard in trying to make the punishment effective.

He knew now that Harry had actually felt worse than horrible about the entire situation. So much so that he shut down for days afterwards, insecure with his place in Sirius' life and drowning in enough guilt to feel the need to punish himself because Sirius really hadn't all that much. The whole household was unhappy and off kilter until they'd finally manged to work through it.

So if that's what this was, Sirius had no desire to go back down that particular road.

"Exactly how long do you think you should spend in your room resting?"

Harry swallowed hard as he shrugged his shoulders, knowing that his father had caught on to him. "I don't know," he answered quietly. "A while."

"I see," Sirius mused as he assessed his son's face for anything he could read on it. "And, just out of curiosity, does a while mean an afternoon? Or...a few days? Maybe all holiday?"

He didn't get an answer to his question, not that he was really expecting one. Now that he was specifically looking for it, it was perfectly clear what Harry's intentions were and it had Sirius wondering why he hadn't noticed it earlier. Perhaps his son was just getting better at hiding things that he knew would upset Sirius and had waited until they were back home before disappearing from his father's sight so that no questions would be asked immediately.

Maybe Harry's reluctance to come home today was not because he was enamored with the telly, but because he knew what he was planning on doing once they'd arrived and was subconsciously putting it off for as long as possible.

Sirius let out a little sigh of frustration as he assessed his penitent but stubborn kid. Despite how their relationship as father and son had grown, Harry still had a particularly frustrating habit of kicking himself when he was feeling badly about doing something wrong, and Sirius knew that scolding his child about it wasn't going to make the situation any better.

"I thought we agreed that it was my job to punish you," he said wearily.

Harry shrugged again as he stared at his hands. He wasn't trying to be disrespectful, but now that the cat was out of the bag he didn't see a reason to add dishonesty to his list of infractions.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "but you didn't. Even though you really should have."

With his suspicions confirmed, Sirius couldn't help feeling that this was one of those times as a parent when he was damned if he did and damned if he didn't. All of this unnecessary drama could have probably been avoided if he'd just conjured the blasted paddle and put his son to bed the other night with a stern scolding and a smacked bottom instead of an evening of video games and Thai food takeaway. But he'd assessed the situation then and had decided against disciplining his son, and he certainly wasn't going to second guess himself now.

He was the adult in this equation and, for better or for worse, Harry needed to accept that and obey his father's decisions.

Unfortunately, Sirius also knew that Harry would find a way to wallow in his misery until he decided that it was okay to stop wallowing and he didn't want this shadow hanging over them all holiday. He'd have to do something.

"Well then give me a good reason as to why you think you should punish yourself when I didn't think it was necessary," he began as calmly as he could, "and we'll take it from there."

Now growing exceptionally uncomfortable, Harry fidgeted even more, his forehead puckered in thought until Sirius reached out for his chin again. "I'm waiting, young man."

"Because!" Harry huffed out, jerking his chin away as he slapped his hands on the closed cover of his textbook. "Because I did something wrong, even though I knew that I shouldn't. I know the rules. I know they're for my safety, but I didn't care. And I worried you and Remus and Tonks and caused this great big fight between you all that now you have to clean up. If I had misbehaved like that at the Dursleys' they would have..."

And there it was.

Part of Sirius had already begun to suspect that Petunia's unwelcome appearance was the catalyst behind Harry's turnabout regarding the resolution of his little trek down the street. The boy had been fine all night after it happened and all of yesterday afternoon, right up until they ran into her. And, in retrospect, Harry's quiet behavior afterwards, that Sirius had simply put down as the boy maybe being a bit physically and emotionally tired from it all, was likely more a sign of a proper brood coming on.

"It doesn't matter what the Dursleys would have done," Sirius reminded his son sternly. "They are the past, and you need never worry about them again. All that matters from now on is what happens between us. Do you hear me, young man?"

"Yes sir," Harry muttered morosely as he hung his head. "I know that. But that doesn't make what I did alright. Especially to you."

He raised his eyes back up at his father, his forehead furrowed and a spark of anger flashing in his big green eyes.

"I mean, you saw the way Aunt Petunia looked at me, right?" he spat out hatefully. "Like I was nothing but dirt that had no business being in her precious store! Do you know how many times she would come back to the house with bags and bags of stuff from there for Dudley, and I would have to just sit there and watch him being all excited about it while knowing that no one loved me enough to treat me like that."

Harry was practically shaking with rage and pain as he raked his hands through his hair leaving it jutting up in every direction far worse than his usual mess. This was clearly an old hurt that had managed to work itself up to the surface and left Harry on the verge of exploding, like a teenage volcano. But underneath the mask of his anger, Sirius could see a small neglected boy screaming for someone to understand how awful it had all been.

It was breaking Sirius' heart to see his child so tortured.

"And Dudley loved to rub in it my face," Harry laughed with absolutely no humor in his voice. A stray tear worked itself out of the boy's left eye against his will that he angrily swiped at. "I'd try to stay far away from him once Aunt Petunia had left the room, because I knew what he'd do. I was faster, but he was bigger, and if I didn't get past him in time he'd back me into a corner."

A quick flash of fear passed across Harry's face before he shook his head and huffed derisively. Sirius could see that his son needed to get this off his chest, so he didn't interrupt Harry's train of thought. Even though all he really wanted to do was fiercely hug his child before storming over to Privet Drive to hex another set of ears and a tail onto the awful brat.

Only this time with a permanent sticking charm added to it.

"Dudley would pretend it was because he was going to share with me," Harry continued, his voice going starting to go soft as another angry tear fell, "but when I tried to push him away he'd punch me, and then he'd yell for his mother, saying that I was trying to steal from him."

Raising his hands up to his eyes, he brushed at them impatiently, acting as if the perfectly understandable response was something to be humiliated about in front of his father. Sirius wanted to tell his son how much he had cried in Azkaban so Harry didn't ever feel the need to hide his emotions, but he felt that it was more important that his son get this off his chest without interruption.

"I'd tell her that he was lying but of course she never believed me." Harry shrugged, as if it was a completely normal way for his only maternal figure to treat him. "She'd scream about her poor baby being assaulted by a no-good thief who didn't deserve nice things, and when Uncle Vernon came home he'd drag me to my cupboard and lock me in for a few days. No meals, of course, and Dudley would sit outside the cupboard door and eat all his sweets and biscuits making sure that I could see him doing it."

Sirius swallowed hard, his magic raging inside of him at the injustice. If he didn't know that his son needed him right now, he would already be out the door. Harry was staring off in the distance and by the look on his face Sirius could easily guess that the boy was reliving those horrible times.

"God, I was so hungry," Harry muttered quietly as he picked at an invisible thread on the knee of his jeans, his use of the Muggle way of referring to a deity not going unnoticed by his father. "But it's really only the first day that's bad. By the second, you sort of get used to it. And it was only truly hard to get through in the summer. If it was during the school term I'd at least get to have lunch there, and sometimes there were things I could smuggle home like a milk or a piece of fruit. Those times it was easier to get through it until they decided I'd been punished enough."

Having experienced profound hunger himself in prison, Sirius wouldn't have wished intentional starvation on his worst enemy. The fact that it was something his precious child was intimately familiar with had him feeling decidedly murderous.

"They'll pay for all of that," he promised fervently as he took Harry by the shoulders and looked right into his eyes. "One day, I promise you, they will pay for everything they did to you."

"Doesn't matter," Harry muttered shaking his head sadly. "It won't change anything they did or the fact that they didn't care if I lived or died. Not like you. From the very first day you've been worried about me. Don't you see? That's what makes it even more wrong that I broke your rules when I almost never broke theirs."

Harry looked up at his father with such remorse in those huge green pools that it practically broke Sirius' heart.

"You actually care that I'm where I'm supposed to be," his son said emphatically, "They never cared where I was as long as the chores were done and I wasn't underfoot. And they certainly didn't worry about me if I wasn't home when I should have been. Forget just being at the store. I could have been dead in a ditch and they wouldn't have even looked for me until it was time for me to help serve their dinner."

Sirius couldn't mask the growl that burst forth from his chest from listening to his beloved child repeatedly speak about his demise so flippantly and the lack of concern on the part of those who were entrusted with his care. Harry flinched again, out of reflex, but he didn't stop his ramble because he knew that his father's rage wasn't really directed a him.

"I'm sure they were more than pleased to finally see the back of me," he spat out with a derisive huff. "Even if they probably have to pay for a proper gardener now. I know that they didn't even hesitate when your solicitor contacted them about signing the papers giving up their legal guardianship of me."

Sirius winced, knowing that it was true. Harry just happened to walk in on a conversation that he was having with Remus a few weeks before the adoption ceremony was scheduled. With his custody of Harry being formalized in the magical world, Sirius had decided to make sure it was settled in the Muggle world as well.

Unfortunately, Sirius hadn't bothered to shut the door to his study all the way, and his son, on a break between classes with the Grangers, had stopped by to ask for permission to have sandwiches with Ron on the pitch instead of eating lunch in the dining room. It had been a mild day and Harry wanted to fly.

But what the boy found instead was his father stomping around his office on a furious tirade about his aunt and uncle. Sirius had felt horrible seeing his son's crestfallen face in the doorway. Not just because Harry overheard some very choice words being said that would have gotten his own mouth washed out, but because they had also been yet more proof of how little he mattered to the people that had raised him for ten years.

It might have been a bit delayed in coming, but Harry's little outburst finally seemed to unleash the torrent of pent up emotions over seeing his aunt again. He was now panting ragged breaths, caught somewhere between rage and tears as he fought to regain his composure. Clearly, he was far more upset about it all than he'd let on at any point in the past two days.

Sighing heavily, Sirius was forced to admit to himself that Harry would always be more than a little bit emotionally scarred from his years with those people, no matter how safe and loved Sirius tried to make him feel now. There were days when he tried to convince himself that Harry was recovered from the worst of it, but there were also days like today when it was obvious that the troubles still weighed heavily on the boy and Harry's ingrained general insecurity overrode any progress the two of them made together.

It was also obvious that, as a result, Harry wouldn't allow himself to be absolved over the incident with the wave of a wand, no matter that Sirius had already assured him that he was forgiven and moved on.

And he knew this because, despite Harry not being his son by birth, the two of them were far too alike in some fairly unhealthy ways when it came to the amount of guilt they shouldered, especially when it came to disappointing the people they loved. Harry would mentally beat himself up until he felt a measure of absolution.

"I understand that you might have conflicted feelings about your time with your relatives," Sirius said gently as he rubbed an affectionate thumb across Harry's cheek, "but that doesn't have anything to do with you and me. And as for what happened the other day, it was one moment of poor judgment on your part that didn't result in any harm to anyone and it shouldn't be cause to ruin your entire holiday either."

Harry's lips pressed together tightly, turning white around the edges in his frustration and signifying his obvious disagreement. He didn't seem to be on the verge of quarreling with his father, which Sirius would have probably preferred to be honest, but the unspoken intent was clear. Despite his words to his son, Sirius knew from personal experience with the Potters that Harry would either continue to beat himself up over his guilt and just be a little more sneaky about it, or he would find a way to act out enough that it eventually required his father to rein him in.

And neither of those options were appealing.

"You're determined, aren't you," he said knowingly. Harry's face turning away from him being all the confirmation that he needed.

Rubbing his face, Sirius took a deep breath as he felt his head begin to pound.

Well, nobody ever said parenting was easy.

"Very well then," he said, slapping his knees. "If you really feel like you absolutely have to endure some sort of penance in order to get over this, then I suppose I shall have to come up with an appropriate consequence for you."

Harry peeked up, looking more than a little surprised that his father had actually capitulated.

"But Harry," Sirius warned sternly with a raised finger, "whatever I decide, whether you agree or not, you are to accept it and obey, and once it's over, then it's over. No more fretting over spilled butterbeer."

"Yes, sir," the boy nodded immediately, his cheeks still a bit pink, "I will, I promise."

Sirius pursed his lips in thought as he assessed his penitent kid. He wasn't about to dole out any kind of truly punitory measures, but he felt that there was a teachable moment possible here that might just do his son a lot more good than giving Harry an arbitrary restriction to ease his unnecessary guilt.

"You know, I've always been of the mind that a punishment should fit the crime," Sirius said after a moment, leaning back as he folded his hands in his lap. "And since you were only able to go out for your little shopping spree because you had adequate funds in your possession from getting a steady weekly allowance, I think maybe that allowance should stop for the next month."

At this announcement, Harry sighed in frustration. He simply couldn't help it, even when Sirius' eyebrows raised in warning at his disrespectful attitude.

Taking his allowance away for a month, or two months, or even a year wouldn't really impact Harry's life in any sort of meaningful way and he couldn't help the feeling that his father was simply placating him by even suggesting it. For one thing, Sirius practically tripped over himself to buy Harry whatever he wanted as it was and, for another, Harry barely ever spent a tiny portion of the money he'd already been given.

So even if it stopped entirely, it didn't change the fact that he had a rather large pile of Wizard and Muggle money in both his room at the manor and the one in London.

"Papa," he huffed, annoyed that he wasn't being taken seriously, "that's not much of a punishment, and you know it."

And that was probably true, but...

"Well," Sirius protested, holding up a hand in restraint, "I'm not done yet either. So just wait a moment."

Irritated, Harry slumped back against his headboard and crossed his arms and Sirius had to stop himself from smirking over how adorably affronted his child looked at the moment. Any other fourteen year old would have been dancing for joy over getting away with misbehaving, but not Sirius' kid.

But it so happened that there had been an idea pressing on Sirius' mind for quite a while now, and he couldn't help thinking that the opportunity to explore it further just seemed to have presented itself out of the blue. It could, actually, be a perfect solution to the little problem at hand.

"Let's talk about your time with the Dursleys, since you brought them up," he said instead, ignoring the small flinch his son couldn't entirely suppress. "What is something that you weren't allowed to do, or some kind of material possession you weren't allowed to have when you were growing up with them that you still feel badly about?"

Now Harry really was confused and the way he looked at Sirius was like he was sure that his father had finally gone barmy.

"Humor me," Sirius prompted kindly, knowing what was running through his son's mind. "C'mon now. The first very first thing you can think of that's not obvious, like better parents or...better meals."

The last part of that sentence made Sirius angry just to be saying it, but he pushed his rage back down inside because at the moment he would rather concentrate on the plan in his mind instead of yet another hundred different scenarios he'd thought of to make Vernon and Petunia suffer for their mistreatment of his child.

"Um...okay." Harry scrunched up his forehead in thought as he looked at his fingers and twisted them. "I guess there's...well there's Thorpe Park."

"What's Thorpe Park?"

When Harry hesitated, Sirius nodded at him in encouragement. He didn't want Harry to think that there were any wrong answers to his question. After a few seconds of uncomfortable posturing, his son finally worked up the nerve to speak again.

"It's this place in Surrey, about a twenty minute drive from where I grew up. It's an adventure park that all the kids in the neighborhood liked going to. There's rides and games and things."

Nodding in understanding of what his son had omitted from that statement, Sirius reached over to place a comforting hand over his son's fidgety ones.

"And I'm guessing that it was somewhere that your aunt and uncle would take Dudley, but not you?"

With his cheeks tinged pink in unnecessary embarrassment, Harry couldn't even make eye contact as he sadly nodded.

"Yeah. Every time Dudley came home with at least two passing grades at the end of the term or sometimes on his birthday he got to go. They'd take his friends too, but I'd have to stay behind with our neighbor Mrs. Figg and her smelly old cats."

"Wait...Mrs. Figg?" Startled by this little piece of information, Sirius' eyebrows furrowed as a troubling idea floated through his mind. "You don't mean Arabella Figg, do you?"

Finally looking up in confusion at his father's interest, Harry shrugged. "Um...I don't know. Maybe. She never told me her first name and it's not like I was allowed to ask. She's just this old woman who lives a few doors down on Wisteria Walk. She was usually the one the Dursleys asked to mind me when they were away."

Sirius' lips pursed into a frown. If this Mrs. Figg was who he suspected it might be, then he and Albus were not finished talking by a long damn shot.

"Does she happen to be a small woman?" he pressed. "Brown hair? Has a fondness for Kneazles like Crookshanks and eats far too much cabbage for her own good?"

He watched as Harry's eyes went wide and knew that he'd hit right on the mark. Arabella Figg was a decent enough sort and a member of the Order of the Phoenix during the war. She'd tried to do what she could for the Order after her half-blood husband was tortured to death by the Carrow twins but, with no magic of her own, her contribution to the cause was somewhat limited.

Parking her in Little Whinging to keep an eye out for Death Eaters absolutely sounded like something Albus would do.

"You know Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked, shaking his head in amazement.

"Fairly well if I'm correct," Sirius said, nodding. "She's a Fawley by birth which is a Pure-blood family, but, like the Potters, they never aligned themselves with the bigotry regarding Muggles. Unfortunately for Arabella, she was born a squib, which is a hard thing for someone in our world. Never fully in, but never really fully out either. During the war she married a half-blood wizard named Martin Figg, but sadly he didn't make it and they hadn't been together long enough to have children."

Sirius stopped for a moment as the rush of memories flooded him. There had been so many family lines obliterated during the war with needless deaths. When Martin died, the Figg name died with him.

"So she never said anything to you about the wizarding world," he went on after a fashion. "Really? She was quite friendly with your Mum."

"No." Harry's face darkened and Sirius could believe that his son was understandably hurt and angry at the revelation. "She didn't. So you're telling me that all those hours I had to sit on her couch and look at photo albums of her ruddy cats and try not to sick up from the smell of her kitchen, the whole damn time she could have been sharing stories about my parents and you and Hogwarts?"

Sirius let the swearing go as Harry gripped his textbook tightly, his fingers squeezing the binding so hard that it creaked in protest. Reaching out, Sirius gently pried the irate digits away and laid the book aside before taking Harry's hands into his own.

"Hey," he called softly to get his son's attention back. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. I'm not sure what happened with her, if it indeed is her, but keeping you in the dark like that was not right at all."

"It wasn't," Harry agreed, shaking his head as his anger began to ebb and give way to sadness over time lost. "I would have given anything for that kind of connection to my past then."

He glanced back up at his father, his green eyes filled with hurt.

"I had a right to know who I was, and she knew. She knew what the Dursleys were like too. Why wouldn't she just tell me, Papa?"

"I don't know," Sirius said helplessly as he released his hold on Harry's hands and held out his arms. Harry didn't even hesitate for a fraction of a second before falling into his father's embrace. "But I promise that I'm going to find out."

Harry didn't realize how badly he needed the comfort until it was offered as Sirius rubbed his back gently.

How different might his world have been if she'd only shared just a little information on who he truly was? When he could have at least had the hope that something better was just around the corner during the terribly lonely years he'd been so miserable as a small boy in a loveless house.

Feeling a bit fragile, he let his father soothe him for a long moment before letting go and leaning back against his headboard.

"So...um," he began, clearly done talking about Arabella and changing the subject, "why did you ask about Thorpe Park?"

Sirius assessed his kid, debating on whether or not he should continue his earlier conversation without resolving the issue of Arabella's presence in his life, but eventually decided to shelve the topic for now until he had the chance to make some inquiries.

"Well," he said as he folded his hands back in his lap, "let me ask you this. Do you know what a children's group home is?"

Unexpectedly, Harry's face paled as his eyes quickly skipped around the room a little too frantically for Sirius' comfort. He could see his son's chest rising and falling again with short pants before the boy managed to rein in his emotions and nod his head.

"Yes," he said quietly, his voice practically a whispered breath. "They would...they would threaten to send me to one if I didn't behave. Said they were terrible places where bad children were beaten and starved."

As opposed to what the Dursleys did to you? Sirius thought angrily, but kept to himself since it was obvious that his child was already struggling.

"No," Sirius denied quickly after taking a much needed calming breath, "that's just another lie. Really now, do those people ever tell the truth?"

"Why are you asking me this, Papa?" Harry said nervously, his mind spinning with an onslaught of panic as he gripped his blanket tight in one hand. "Why are we talking about children's homes?"

"Hey," Sirius soothed as he put his hand over Harry's tense one. His son's eyes were wide and full of fear for some reason. "Just listen for a moment. It's nothing to fret over, little one, I promise."

Harry didn't look convinced, although he did relax a tiny fraction when Sirius began rubbing his white knuckles with a thumb. Why his child was so obviously worked up was an absolute mystery, and he was more than a bit confused for a brief moment until a little voice inside his head suggested that Harry just might think Sirius was suggesting one for him.

The boy couldn't really be thinking that he was being sent to one, couldn't he? After everything? Sirius had adopted him for Merlin's sake! Surely that was enough to prove to Harry just how cemented his place in Sirius' life was by now?

"No, little one," he said firmly, grabbing Harry's hands in a tight grip, his son ghost white and rigid as a statue. "No. I only bring it up because Andromeda was telling me the other day about Ted's Muggle cousin who is a social worker in London that oversees several group homes. Andromeda and Ted have been making regular donations to some of them to pay for extras that the government funds they get don't provide. Like art supplies, or games and toys that the kids can keep when they leave. Or trips to the cinema and other excursions. I was thinking that maybe you and I should donate to some of them too."

"What?"

Honestly, Harry looked shocked, his large green eyes blinking rapidly as he finally caught on to his father's meaning. Sirius was pleased and more than a little relieved to see that his son's color drastically improved as a tiny smile eventually peeked out of his tightly pressed lips.

"These children," Sirius said as he relaxed his grip on Harry's hands before he cut their circulation off, "they usually arrive, sometimes in the middle of the night, with just a few tiny possessions if anything at all. And though the people that run the homes are the good and kind sort, money can be tight and the priority is on paying for basics like food, clothing and a safe shelter. So there's rarely any left over for luxuries without a little outside help. And Harry, the kids that find themselves placed there? Some are orphans and some come from abusive or neglectful homes. They're..."

"They're like us," Harry said quietly, his face a mask of understanding and compassion.

"Yeah," Sirius nodded as he raised one hand to gently smooth the hair away from his son's forehead. "They are."

The two wizards sat in quiet contemplation and thought about that for a moment while their horrible collective pasts threatened to come to the forefront. Time healed some of the wounds, but the basic damage would always linger a bit under the surface. Soon enough, though, Sirius realized that he needed to push past the maudlin mood and instead focus on something positive, like what they could do to help some disadvantaged children have a little bit of happiness. He had a strong feeling that it just might be a therapeutic exercise for both his son and himself.

Money wouldn't solve all of the problems, but a couple of kind gestures could go a long way in assisting with the healing process of a traumatized child.

Both for the children living in homes, and for his own son who still suffered from the aftereffects of years of abuse.

"And so, young man," Sirius finally said, clearing his throat and forcing himself to sound stern. He was supposed to be disciplining his son after all. "Later this afternoon I'm going to ask Andromeda to help with getting information on four houses that she does not currently contribute to, and each week for the next month your allowance will go towards treats and gifts for children less fortunate than yourself. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Papa," Harry agreed with a pleased expression Sirius could tell meant that he liked the idea immensely. "Very."

"Good." Sirius nodded. "And since I also hold myself partially responsible for your mischievousness, as your father and a Marauder myself, I will fund an all expenses paid outing to this Thorpe Park for every child in a home as well, and you and I will join them to make sure that they have a good time."

Harry was grinning happily as he launched himself at his father again, and Sirius smiled like a loon as he held his son close for a moment before gently pushing Harry back.

"Now come," he instructed, holding out a hand for his son to take as he stood. "We're getting you out of here and going down to the dining room for the rest of your punishment. While I'm at Remus' you're going to write lines for me, and that, Harry, will be the end of this. No more arguments and no more guilt. Understood?"

Feeling loads better, Harry looked up at his father sheepishly. "Yes, sir."

He let Sirius pull him to his feet and he easily slipped under the offered arm as his father held him to his side before they began to make their way out of the room and towards the staircase. Once in the dining room, Sirius summoned Lolly for a pitcher of lemonade and some ginger biscuits before sitting Harry down with one of the blank notebooks they had acquired in London yesterday along with a pen.

"It's a good opportunity to work on your Muggle penmanship," he said as he flicked his wand at the pen and made it write across the top of the first page.

I will always ask permission to leave the flat or my loving father will turn me into a toad.

"And you know that I can," Sirius warned his son with a raised eyebrow as Harry smirked and shook his head fondly at his positively mental father. "Write that fifty times until I return, and then, my little miscreant, you and I are going to go flying until dinner. Broom or motorbike. Your choice."

"Could we do both?"

Harry was peeking up at him, his nose wrinkled adorably as he gave Sirius the pleading puppy dog look. When his son looked at him that way, Sirius would move the heavens and earth to give Harry anything he wanted.

"We certainly can," he assured the boy as he leaned down to drop a kiss on the messy head before turning to go.

"Papa?"

"Yes?" Sirius turned back around to see Harry fidgeting at the table, looking a bit uncomfortable again as the boy seemed to be working up the courage to ask for something else.

"Do you think..." Harry started tentatively before he lowered his head back down as his cheeks pinked. "No. Never mind. It's okay."

Apparently they hadn't made as much progress as he thought, and Sirius sighed sadly as he walked back over to his son and reached out to gently cup Harry's chin and looked at him with kindness in his silver eyes. "What is it, love? You can always ask me anything."

"I know you said that I had to accept what you decided and move on," the boy said cautiously as he battled through a bout of embarrassment and shyness, "but do you...do you think you could take my allowance away for longer than a month?"

Harry blushed furiously at this request, but he didn't really need to say anything else for his father to understand exactly what his son was thinking. The boy's desire to help more than just a few kids was written all over his face and it made Sirius as proud as he was sad over his son's own unfortunate upbringing.

It wasn't as if Sirius had actually planned on stopping the donations after only a few weeks now that he had decided to commit to seeing that as many homes as possible had ample funds for a little fun for their young residents. Truthfully, the designated four weeks had just been an arbitrary time frame to satisfy Harry's irrational need to do some penance, made up on the fly during their conversation.

"I see. Four homes isn't a whole lot, is it kiddo," he stated knowingly as Harry shook his head in agreement. Sirius hummed for a moment, pretending to be thinking about it before making a decision. "You know, young man, on second thought you really were quite naughty for giving me such a fright. Remus and Dora too, for that matter. Plus, you dragged poor Ron along for the ride and Merlin only knows what Molly had to say about that. So perhaps you should lose your allowance for the entire summer if the lesson is to sink in properly?"

His son kept his head bowed submissively during the scolding, but Sirius could see the smile peeking out on the boy's face as Harry nodded.

"Yes, sir."

Sirius' heart simply burst with love for his kind and generous boy who saw an opportunity to make life better for other kids who were struggling. Kids like he'd been himself once not so very long ago.

"Very well," he agreed with a exaggerated sigh, as if it was a hardship for him to do so. "Let's just make it an even twenty then, shall we?"

As his father hoped, Harry looked up and beamed at him, nodding happily as a pitcher of lemonade appeared and poured some of itself into a glass at the boy's side. When a plate of iced biscuits popped in front of him, Harry, now in a much better mood, eagerly grabbed one and took a bite as he pulled the notebook towards him to start on his first line.

"Will you tell Remus that I hope he's feeling okay, and that I'll be over to visit with him when I'm allowed?"

"I will," Sirius said with a nod as he headed back towards the door. He was glad to see that Harry was really trying to get along with his new godfather after that little unpleasantness before the adoption. "I'll be back before you know it. Behave yourself, Harry James."

"Yes, Papa," Harry mumbled, stuffing another biscuit in his mouth as Sirius breezed out the door. With a much lighter heart, he slowly started to write the lines, the ink of the pen rolling across the paper smoothly and neatly. He'd never had the best handwriting as it was, but seeing his barely legible scrawl on the paper, he realized just how long it had been since he'd actually used something other than a quill.

His father was right. He really did need the practice.

And even though he hated having to write lines, he couldn't help the pleasant little feeling in his belly that said the rest of his afternoon was going to go much better than how he'd originally planned.

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

There was a lighter spring in Sirius' step as he strode across the grounds on his way to the little cottage. Although he was more than a bit apprehensive about making peace with his oldest friend, since he was internally torn between the anger he still felt at Remus for leaving his post in the first place and the guilt over losing his temper so badly and making some rather unfair accusations against both him and Dora.

It seemed cliche now to feel that Remus didn't fully understand Sirius' panic over finding his son missing after leaving Harry in his care because Remus himself wasn't a father. More like something he himself might have been accused of in the early days of Harry's life when the baby's indulgent godfather had loads of plans of potential future mischief for the two of them to get into together.

Sirius didn't really have any doubt that Remus cared for Harry. Maybe even loved him in his own way. It was obvious in the way that Remus had steadfastly supported them both with every thing they did.

Not a love like Sirius had for Harry, of course, because even when Harry was a baby there had always been a visible part of Sirius' personality that proved beyond doubt that the often times brash and reckless young man positively adored the child. The little one seemed to just naturally bring out the most fiercely protective side of Sirius who was usually more often than not considered a loose cannon.

And while all of the Mauraders were fond of the tot, or a least Sirius had thought they all were back then, it had been clear to everyone from day one that Sirius was the one that had firmly bonded with the boy from the moment he first laid eyes on him.

In fairness, Remus was always happy to fuss and coo over the infant as much as the next person when presented with an adorable chubby cheeked child, but his reserved nature, as well as his inherent sadness that he'd never father a child of his own, had prevented him from truly doting on the baby. The lack of overt adoration on Remus' and Peter's parts hadn't really mattered when Harry had two parents that worshiped him and a godfather who thought that the sun rose and set on Harry's existence.

But then everything went sideways, and even though Remus had absolutely dropped the ball regarding Harry's welfare while Sirius was cruelly rotting in prison, he seemed to have recently formed a much more affectionate attachment to the boy now that all their circumstances had changed. Despite his anger the other day, Sirius was honest enough to admit that Remus genuinely cared for Harry and would never had intentionally allowed him to be put at any sort of risk.

It had been just a brief lapse in judgment that had Remus floo'ing back to the manor for a few brief minutes. No one could have anticipated that Harry, who was normally very well behaved despite his past adventures, would have had any reason to seize upon the opportunity to get into some mischief the minute his new godfather's back was turned, and Remus wasn't really out of line to trust the boy to be were he was supposed to be.

Mired in these thoughts, Sirius was barely aware that he was on the steps of the cottage before he was actually approaching the front door. He took a deep fortifying breath and then knocked.

Inside he could hear the scraping of chair legs against the wooden floor as Remus likely got up from the small dining table. He waited, with a small hint of unease, as the footsteps of his oldest friend slowly shuffled towards the door before opening it.

"Might I come in?" Sirius asked with an air of forced joviality that was an attempt to mask his discomfort.

Remus shrugged as he moved aside to allow Sirius to gain entry into the small but cozy main room of the cottage.

"It's your estate," he answered tiredly, the toll of the upcoming transformation already showing in his bloodshot eyes.

Sirius grimaced. Remus' less than warm welcome was hardly a surprise under the circumstances, but it still hurt. He also positively hated it that one of the few people that he truly cared about in the world should feel beholden to him in some stupid way just because Sirius had the financial means to provide a living for him.

"Maybe," he answered with a frown, "but it's your home. If you prefer I go..."

"I don't," Remus said, shaking his head. "Can I offer you some tea? I was just having a cup myself."

"That would be lovely, thanks," Sirius nodded, trying to suppress the discomfort over the two of them holding a conversation like a couple of awkward strangers.

He stepped into the room, unconsciously taking note of all the little creature comforts that Remus had scattered about. There was a book on practically every surface, along with rolls of parchment and quills. Framed photographs of Remus with his parents, and with James, Lily and Sirius on the walls and on the fireplace mantle. Even one of Remus and Harry that Sirius knew had been taken by Hermione on the day of Harry's adoption. The table was partially covered with neat little phials of various potions. Most of them for pain relief that Sirius recognized, having brewed most of them himself.

It amused him that his whip smart and generally good at everything mate couldn't seem to brew a potion with any degree of capability. Unfortunately, Remus' lycanthropy would have been much better served if the man who suffered from it, and who could do practically everything else as a wizard with a high degree of accomplishment, had been able to provide himself with the one potion that made his life somewhat tolerable.

Wolfsbane was a terribly tricky potion even for experienced potioneers, which made it desperately expensive. A cruel circumstance for the small group of magical folk who, as a rule, were usually rather poor because of their lack of employment opportunities.

No matter, really, as far as Remus was concerned now. Sirius had always had a dab hand in the potions lab. Not just because all Black children were traditionally trained in the lab at a very young age, but more likely because the mischievous Sirius took pains to perfect a talent that could enable their pranks at school, and so he could brew the wolfsbane. As far as he was concerned, he'd be happy to continue to do so for as long as he was kicking around, and even when he wasn't any longer, he'd already taken steps to ensure that Remus would never again go without.

Next to him, Remus held out a hand to indicate a seat on the slightly worn sofa. Sirius had offered to refurnish the whole of the cottage before his friend took up residence, but Remus had assured him that it was unnecessary. The furnishings were of good quality, despite the slight aging of them, and the decor style, tasteful and unassuming, reminded him quite a bit of the happy home he'd shared with his parents growing up.

There was an awkward moment of tension in the air as Sirius fiddled with his fingers while Remus poured them both a cup of steaming Earl Grey. The two men doctored their drinks to their liking in silence before suddenly, in concert, they blurted out the words each had been longing to say.

"I'm sorry."

"Forgive me."

A bit startled, the two old friends just looked at each other for a moment before they both burst out laughing. The unease that had been hanging heavily over their heads immediately dissipated like a fresh breeze had just blown through the cottage as they both took a sip of their tea to mask their mirth. After another moment of silence, this time much more companionable, Sirius finally worked up the nerve to speak again.

"I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life," he admitted quietly, knowing that Remus would understand what he was saying. "And that includes the time I was watching a full grown dragon trying to eat him."

"You were absolutely right to take me to task, Padfoot," Remus acknowledged, the flicker of guilt in his eyes making his wan face even more so. "I had no business stepping away when I should have been with him. Trouble always seems to have a way of finding Harry rather easily and with infuriating regularity."

"Very true," Sirius nodded with a grimace. "Still, I was bang out of order for saying some of the things that I did. You certainly didn't deserve them. Nor did Nymphadora, for that matter. I'd go and apologize to her myself if I wasn't concerned for the safety and welfare of my more delicate parts. The woman is quite a terror with her wand."

Remus chuckled a little sadly at that. "Well, I wouldn't know. She's not exactly speaking to me at the moment either."

Sirius winced at the resignation in his friend's voice.

With a tentative peace so recently restored between them, he almost hesitated to pursue that avenue of conversation any further when Remus was clearly uncomfortable with it. But he'd never been particularly shy about discussing the love lives of his closest friends either, so he plowed on and damned the consequences.

"Is it she who is not speaking to you," he ventured carefully, already fairly sure of the answer, "or is it really you who aren't speaking to her?

The guilty look on Remus' face was all he needed to have his suspicions confirmed.

On another day, when the moon wasn't full and Remus had a bit more mental and physical fortitude to carry him, Sirius might venture to press the issue, but today he was going to stand down. There was an argument to be made here, in order to persuade his friend that he had worth as a partner, but it wasn't the right moment.

"Let me tell you about my weekend," he said instead, not imagining the relief he saw on Remus' face over the reprieve.

For a few moments they sipped tea while Sirius relayed, in fairly clear details, the content of his conversation with Albus and the question of the significance of the snitch, as well as the unwelcome encounter with Petunia and the subsequent fallout from that. Ending with Harry's insistence on punishing himself again that had both of the men remembering the turmoil of the previous summer.

"Merlin's balls," Remus sighed as he got up from his chair to snatch a small bottle of brandy from the polished wooden desk by the front door. Without further ado, he unscrewed the cap and poured a generous measure in each of their recently refilled tea cups.

Sirius' eyebrows shot up into his head as he glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn't even mid afternoon yet, but he also didn't turn down the additional bracing in his warm beverage, which made Remus sure that he'd made the right call.

"That boy could do a mastery if unnecessary guilt was an actual school subject," the slightly grouchy werewolf mused as he took a sip from his cup. "He clearly learned nothing from that little exercise last summer. Well, you know what they say. Like father, like son."

Scoffing out loud, Sirius took a sip of his tea and shook his head fondly as memories of James flitted through his mind.

"James didn't have a guilty bone in his body, Moony," he said, letting out an amused chuckle. "You know that as well as I do. If you didn't like what James did or said, you were the one in the wrong, not him."

"I wasn't talking about James, you prat," Remus answered with a lifted eyebrow.

Sirius' face crinkled into a frown for a brief moment before he huffed and shook his head. He and Harry were alike in some unfortunate ways. After all, didn't Sirius himself think the same thing just a short while ago? But he wasn't about to admit to it, when he already felt bad enough about the whole thing as it was.

"Don't be absurd, Moony," he retorted with false bravado. "I'll grant you that Harry takes after my devilish handsomeness and, if he's lucky, my finesse with the ladies."

"Padfoot."

Remus' voice had a tone mixed with sympathy, affection and censure, and Sirius didn't need to look at his friend's face to know exactly what the other man was thinking, and it wasn't about Sirius' prolific love life before Azkaban.

"I can't help who I am," he stated quietly, his eyes staring off at the far wall of the cottage. "I try very hard to hide that part of myself from my son. But some day I'm going to have to admit to Harry that I could have broken out of prison years sooner, if I'd let myself, and who knows if he'll even forgive me for condemning him to the life he spent with those people when he could have been with me."

Leaning over, Remus put a hand on Sirius' arm and gripped him tightly. "I think Harry already knows. He's quite a clever lad."

Sirius winced. In all honesty, he agreed with Remus' suspicions. It was just hard to admit it.

"I also think he feels nothing but gratitude that you managed to keep your sanity in that horrible place long enough to eventually escape," Remus insisted, "and that you did finally manage to give him a happy and loving home. You're a good father, Sirius. Never think otherwise. Your worry the other day simply proves it."

Sirius looked up at him, a weak smile tinged with pain on his face that was almost too fleeting to see before it was gone. A dark look of concern swept through his stormy gray eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"You were already on your secret mission, so you wouldn't remember this," he started softly, "but I had stopped by Godric's Hollow after I returned from Austria on my own assignment about a month before James and Lily were murdered. Albus had sent me there with Frank Longbottom and the Prewett brothers to investigate a series of rumors that Grindelwald was advising Voldemort through clandestine visits to Nurmengard. Of course we didn't really find anything, since that bastard was nothing if not clever, so the whole trip had me already feeling pretty agitated."

"I remember hearing about that later," Remus admitted, his brow furrowed in thought. "The Prewitts were attacked almost as soon as you all got back."

Humming an acknowledgement, Sirius nodded as he rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired. "Right after, actually. Dolohov and his lot were waiting for them outside of that flat they were sharing in Lewisham. They'd captured that blonde bird that Gideon was shagging and tortured her into giving their address out. They killed her of course, and then lay in wait to slaughter the twins. The Prewetts were good duelers, but they were horribly outnumbered. It was a bloodbath."

The two shared a quiet moment of reflection and sorrow over all those that they lost in the war before Sirius continued his story.

"Anyway," he went on, leaning back against the sofa cushion and crossing his arms, "After splitting up from the twins, I decided to head over to Godric's Hollow before going home, just to pop my head in and check on Prongs, Lily and the baby. You know how twitchy he was getting from being cooped up there for so long."

Remus grimaced and nodded. James was a doer, not a watcher, and it had been hard for him to keep out of the fight, even if it meant that his family was a bit safer for it. Or at least they thought it was safer...

"It was bedlam.," Sirius recalled with a fond smile. "Lils had caught a touch of the flu and was tucked up in bed out cold from all the potions. After Dad's awful illness, James panicked every time someone he loved had so much as a sniffle, so he'd bullied her up to the bedroom to rest and charmed the door for quiet so she wouldn't wake up every time Harry made the slightest noise. But he was exhausted himself after a couple of days trying to care for Harry alone. The house was all sixes and sevens, really. Toys and what-not everywhere and Harry howling his little lungs out, wanting his Mum. Desperate, James had transformed in the house to entertain him and misjudged where he was in the room. He ended up kicking over some ghastly flower pot with his hoof and shattering it."

The description had Remus smiling slightly. He could remember quite clearly how things at the Potters could go downhill with breakneck speed once Harry began toddling around.

"Of course, all Harry wanted to do was play with the shards," Sirius chuckled as he shook his head. "and he was extremely put out that James wouldn't allow it. James was trying to juggle him while going for his wand. He had it up on the top of that enormous breakfront that Lily's parents gave them, because apparently the baby was getting quite skilled at picking James' pockets and stealing it. So I swooped in like the hero I am and scooped him right up. Poor little sprog, you should have seen his tiny red face. But I got him settled in that little blocked off play area they had for him in the kitchen while James put the house to rights and it was quiet again."

Here Sirius paused as he rubbed his temples again and Remus wisely kept quiet since this was something the other man needed to get off his chest.

"But I was still in mission mode," Sirius whispered in memory. "So when I heard a bang and James cry out in the other room, I reacted on instinct without really thinking. I left the kitchen, just for a second, to see if he was alright. He was, of course. Just tripped over one of Harry's toy dragons and lost his balance and smacked his head into the side table. I was relieved enough to mock him mercilessly, and it was probably the first time in days that either of us had a proper laugh, but when I went back in to check on Harry, he was just...gone..."

He leaned forward in agitation as he raked his fingers through his hair. Remus skipped the tea altogether and handed his friend the bottle of brandy which Sirius took a large sip of gratefully before handing it back.

"We were frantic, James and I," he went on, "and I swear I could see the years being taken off his life as he tore the house up looking for the baby. Neither of us were thinking clearly enough to cast the right spells, and if Moody had seen us running about like a couple of headless chickens he would have had us doing drills on protocol for days. Finally we thought to check outside, and there Harry was in the garden. Happy as a little niffler in a room full of gold, sitting on the ground among Lily's rose bushes and pulling the petals off. To this day I don't know how he managed to escape the house, but he did."

The image of an adorable tot playing in the flowers made both men smile. Harry really had been so engaging when he was a babe. There were lots of good memories scattered throughout the bad ones of the turbulent war years.

"I had been scared, Remus," Sirius confessed as he shook away the memories, "but nothing like the fear I saw on James' face. He grabbed Harry up into such a tight hug that it frightened the baby, but he didn't let go even when Harry started screaming again. I don't think I could've imagined the desperation he was feeling at that moment until it happened to me the other day. Like your entire reason for living was snatched away from you with no warning whatsoever."

"I really am sorry for the part I played in all that," Remus apologized again, clearly seeing the toll the event had taken on his friend. "Truthfully, most of the time I see Harry as a very independent and capable young man when he isn't getting himself into a scrap. We also know I'm not always in the best frame of mind when the change is approaching, so honestly I was more angry than worried when he wasn't at the flat when we returned. I can't imagine how terrifying it must have been for you to have your child go missing."

Sirius acknowledged what Remus was trying to say.

Remus went away undercover with the werewolf packs right after Harry's christening, so he wasn't around nearly as much as Sirius had been before James and Lily were murdered. And although he'd been a bit rattled on the train the night the Dementors attacked to find that Harry was James' spitting image, the two Potters were different enough in personality that he'd been able to think of Harry first and foremost as the gifted DADA student he was and not as the son of one of Remus' dearest friends. Which was a fair reaction on his part after so many years with no contact between them, but not necessarily a good thing when it came to the basics of the two of them reforging a relationship that rightfully should have been more one of uncle and nephew rather than teacher and student.

Sirius had talked to Remus enough since being reunited for him to know that, in the beginning, it had been rather hard for Remus to associate the tiny baby he knew once upon a time with the feisty and rather powerful thirteen year old he'd encountered at Hogwarts so many years later. Unlike Sirius, who was always going to see his adopted son as the tiny tike that had climbed all over Padfoot demanding rides and giving Sirius's cheeks slobbering toothless kisses when he came to visit.

The difference in their viewpoints helped Remus to temper Sirius' reactions when he was being too overprotective

"I still have faith that you'll be a father yourself, one day," Sirius said with a warm smile. "Once you get your head out of your arse and make up with that young cousin of mine, anyway."

He winked to take the sting out of his words as Remus' face flushed like he was still a teenage boy being told that a pretty young witch had her eyes on him. Remus cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, not particularly interested in restarting that old conversation.

"Just so you know," he announced with a smirk, "your son might beat me to it, if he has his way. I have it on good authority that part of Harry's little mood the other day was because he didn't exactly like the idea of Dora and I being together."

Sirius blinked hard as he pondered that little piece of news. "I beg your pardon?"

"I don't know what Molly has over her children," Remus laughed as he took another sip of doctored tea, "but Ron sang like a canary once we were within whispering distance of his mother. Harry apparently has a bit of a crush on Dora."

Taken aback, Sirius sputtered for a brief moment before an amused smile spread across his face.

"Well, well, my little Casanova," he chuckled. "Of course James always had a thing for older women too."

Remus rolled his eyes. "Lily was three months older than James, Padfoot. Not quite the same as the nine years Dora has over Harry."

Sirius shook his head fondly before letting out a deep sigh.

"That's true enough," he agreed. "I suppose that settles the matter of whether or not we accept more students if we are to continue this little endeavor for another school term in the fall. It's well past time to increase the female population of Fulminare if my son is forced to resort to mooning over a much older cousin. A fancy for your relatives is certainly not one of the Black family traditions I want passed down to him."

The snide comment, clearly a shot at Sirius' own horrible parents who were first cousins, had Remus spitting out the sip of tea he'd just taken as he broke into incredulous laughter. The amusement flickering in Sirius' silver eyes and the relaxed posture both were sporting after their familiar back and forth was a sure sign that things had gotten back on track between the two old friends.

"Now, let's talk about this snitch."

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

Each of the four teenagers had a small paper sack in their hand filled with the rest of the ingredients of the potion as they trudged along the path to the outcropping of rocks.

The full moon would be rising tonight a few minutes after ten o'clock, so that gave them only half an hour to collect the dew they needed from inside the small cave that Sirius had charmed to heat and cool enough over several days to manufacture the necessary moisture to create it. That had been the trickiest part of the spell, he'd told them when they started the research for the potion. Because sunlight was normally an integral part of the development of dew, and the potion required some that had never been touched by sunlight, it had been necessary to figure out a way to get the job done within the tight parameters.

Sirius hadn't let them get away with not doing the work themselves. He had helped with teaching them the spell, and Remus, in his capacity as their Charms professor had even given them extra credit for learning it. But when it came down to the actual casting for the potion, Sirius was concerned enough about something going wrong that would just waste a month of time, that he'd cast the spell on the cave himself just in case.

Right now Sirius and Andromeda were walking ahead of the kids, having a conversation about their mutual Astronomy classes and enough about Hogwarts that their voices were intentionally lowered so Harry and the others couldn't really overhear what they were saying. On another night, Harry might have bristled a bit over what could be seen as information being withheld from him, but tonight he was less concerned as he was too excited to start the animagus process.

Besides, he was sure that his father would share whatever it was they were talking about anyway, so it really didn't matter.

"I was glad to see you alive when I got here," Ron teased as they walked along. "Your dad looked so mad the other night, I thought he might have chopped you up into potions ingredients."

"Yeah, he was," Harry agreed with a shake of his head. "Really he was more worried than angry, though, but we worked it out."

"Boys," Hermione said with a small huff as she shook her head. "I thought you said you were going to try harder to keep him from worrying?"

"I did," Harry insisted, his forehead puckering in annoyance. It's not like he'd set out to upset Sirius, after all. "I do. But I'm not perfect, Hermione."

"No one is," Ron pointed out helpfully as he narrowed his eyes at Hermione in warning. Harry didn't need her to scold him about it when Ron knew how his best friend felt about disappointing his father. "It was just one of those spur of the moment things."

"Well at least he's not stopping you from doing this tonight," Neville chimed in, having only heard parts of the story. "It would have been awful if you got into so much trouble that he made you wait another month."

"He was upset, but he'd never do that," Harry said confidently, giving Ron's shoulder a nudge in thanks for his timely defense. "I lost my allowance for a while and I had to do lines after we got home today, but that was all."

Harry didn't care to mention how that had come about.

"Rotten luck there," Ron commiserated. Harry didn't brag, but he didn't lie either. So Ron knew how much Harry got every week and couldn't imagine losing it, no matter how briefly. "But it could have been a lot worse, you know. Sirius looked pale as a ghost when we got back. I figured he was going to wallop you good after I got sent home."

"Yeah, me too," Harry admitted as his eyes suddenly widened a bit in horror.

He turned to look at Ron to see if there was any sign of anger or upset on his friend's face. They hadn't talked at all since it had happened.

"I really should have been more worried about you, to be honest. Your Mum didn't go spare when Remus and Tonks brought you home, did she?"

"No."

Ron shook his head as he bent over to grab a flat rock and skipped it as far as he could across the smooth surface of the small goldfish pond they were passing. It hopped a few times on the water before disappearing from sight as Ron nodded approvingly.

"But she wouldn't have, would she," he said, shrugging at Harry's confused face. "With that agreement our parents made last summer, since I was with you and Sirius, it would have been up to him to punish me. Remember?"

"Oh, right." Harry nodded as realization dawned on him.

Truthfully, he'd really only thought about that agreement in terms of what it would mean for him if he got into trouble at the Burrow. But of course for Ron it would be with Sirius. Which really shouldn't have been surprising since he knew that Ron had been disciplined by Sirius on two separate occasions already. Once last summer after the grove incident and then the couple of smacks they both got when they were caught out looking at the dragons.

Meanwhile, Harry had never faced the wrath of the Weasley matriarch and he wasn't exactly planning to. Ever.

"Besides," Ron laughed as he shoved Harry good-naturedly. "With Ginny and the twins home, Mum's so happy she's downright giddy. I probably would have needed to come back wearing the bloody Dark Mark on my arm for her to be angry with me."

Harry smirked, feeling about twenty stone lighter now that he knew he hadn't gotten Ron into a load of trouble with his bad mood.

"Honestly, I was a little worried that I'd get smacked as soon as I got here," Ron admitted sheepishly. "Since I figured that Sirius was too upset to do it the other night before I got sent home." He shrugged with a resigned look on his face. "I don't mind the lines, if he's going to make me write some, but it's going to be awful to see my allowance go since I just got used to getting one."

"Hurry up, back there," Sirius called to the straggling teenagers behind him. "If we miss this moonrise, you'll have to start all over again."

The four teenagers picked up the pace and it wasn't long before they were in the small cave. At the very center, the enchanted pool of dew gleamed with a bright blue light that illuminated the entire interior. It was actually rather beautiful.

"I'll talk to him after we're done here," Harry assured his best friend quietly as they gathered where his father was waiting for them. "He didn't really even want to punish me, so there's no reason he'd do anything to you."

Ron couldn't help the look of relief that flooded his face. Just because Sirius had always been firm but fair didn't mean that Ron necessarily wanted a repeat of his previous encounters with the man as a disciplinarian.

Sirius and Andromeda lifted their wands in concert and a deep rumble was heard as they smoothly swished their wands to move a layer of large rocks away from the roof of the cave. As the ceiling gave way to the darkening sky, a thick beam of moonlight shone down on them. Harry's eyes, as well as those of his friends, lit up with delight at the positively ethereal shimmering cascade that illuminated the waist high flat boulder next to the dew pool.

"Everyone take out your phials and silver spoons," Sirius instructed as the kids dug into their bags for the items. "Then very carefully dip the spoons into the pool and pour the dew into the phials without spilling any. Neville, you go first, lad."

Neville gulped, more than a little scared of mucking this up when his Gran was already put out by him needing to do it over the holiday in the first place. He stooped down and gingerly filled the spoon, holding his breath as he tipped the phial closer and let the dew trickle into it.

"Good job," Sirius said approvingly as he gave the boy a pat on the back. "You next, Ron."

In turn, each of the four had collected their dew and then added the Death's-head Hawk Moth chrysalis that Sirius had provided them with earlier to the phial before proceeding on to the slightly more painful task of tugging one of their own hairs out.

"Ugh," Ron groaned as he added the ginger colored strand to the potion. "Why is it always a hair we have to drink with these things? At least it's our own this time."

"This time?"

Andromeda quirked an eyebrow as she assessed the guilty faces on three of the four kids before turning to Sirius for an explanation. He couldn't help laughing as Hermione's face turned three shades of red, knowing that she was about to be caught out for their little adventure in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Did I ever tell you, Cousin," Sirius said in amusement, "just how talented our Miss Granger is? Not every thirteen year old witch can successfully brew polyjuice potion on their first try."

Andromeda's eyes widened comically, before she remembered her manners and schooled her features into something less resembling a startled bug. She gave Hermione a second appraising look that clearly showed that she was impressed.

"My. You really are the brightest witch of your age, aren't you, my dear?"

Hermione reveled in the praise. Any time she could be applauded for her brains and talent by someone in the wizarding world it helped her feel like she had truly found her place in life.

"Alright, everyone," Sirius said with a laugh as he clapped his hands together. "Time to put the leaves in. There's a troubling cloud heading our way and we need to have everything assembled before we lose the moonlight if you don't want to go through all of this again."

The warning lit a bit of fire underneath the kids who had no desire to hold the leaves in their mouths for even one more minute than necessary. With a couple of grunts and groans they extracted the soggy, off-green mess from their gums and plopped them into the phials. Ron seemed to be the only one not phased by the ghastly sight. Neville looked vaguely nauseous as he turned his head away while Hermione closed her eyes and took several deep breaths.

Harry, however, had an altogether different reaction. His forehead wrinkled in disgust, he turned to his father.

"Bloody fucking hell."

For a brief second, Sirius was too shocked to respond and he stood there blinking rapidly. Andromeda, however, had no such problem.

"Harry James Black Potter!"

Although slightly taken aback from getting full-named by one of his godmothers in a tone that promised nothing good, he didn't dodge when Andromeda raised her hand to cast a Scourgify spell at his mouth. Fortunately, Sirius had come back to his senses and easily blocked it before it reached his son. His cousin scowled at him, obviously displeased to have her chastisement interrupted, but he ignored her in favor of giving the boy an appraising look.

"Just look at it!" Harry cried defensively as he lifted his phial so his father could see the slimy mess inside. "That thing was in my mouth! For a month! It's disgusting."

Sirius practically had to chew on his cheek to keep his laughter to himself. The earnestness on his son's face was exceptionally adorable, but he knew Harry wouldn't appreciate being told such a thing. Instead he lifted his wand back up and pointed it at the boy. Harry, rightfully expecting to have his mouth washed out for his impressive use of profanity, grimaced but stood firm to receive the spell he'd intentionally provoked.

He was pleasantly surprised, however, when the taste of mint filled his mouth instead of the bitter soap bubbles he was used to.

Shaking his head fondly at his child, Sirius obliged the other teens by casting the tooth-brushing spell on them as well, and they all looked immensely relieved to have their own mouths soon clean and minty fresh once it had run its course. It was going to be quite a while before any of them put anything leafy green in their mouths again.

With the ingredients all successfully assembled, Sirius and Andromeda replaced the section of cave roof so that the moonlight was once again blocked off. Sirius led the kids over to a small niche carved out of the rock wall.

"Place the phials in here," he instructed. "The potion needs to remain in complete darkness while we wait for the next lightning storm."

After the phials were all safe and settled, the little group began making their way out into the open again. The troubling cloud Sirius had been concerned about had drifted off into the distance and the sky was brightly sprinkled with stars.

"We have a little surprise for you all," Andromeda said brightly as she called for the Celestial Court house elves. "There's a meteor shower starting tonight, and Siri and I thought you might like to see it."

Within seconds, Bicky, Lolly and Dobby appeared next to them and began to set up a late night picnic, complete with thick blankets and soft cushions for everyone to sit on. Three large hampers materialized and an assortment of drinks and snacks began to stream out of them and onto the largest blanket in a very orderly fashion.

Of course the boys immediately made a beeline for the food, but Harry was stopped short from joining the group as they dashed over to the small feast by a sharp tug on the back of his shirt as Sirius restrained him.

"Does your backside need a reminder on how to behave yourself in public, Harry James?"

Looking up at his father's displeased face, Harry winced and shook his head. "No, sir."

"The next time you need help with a problem just ask, young man," Sirius scolded gently. "There's no call for that kind of language. You really ought to know better by now. I'm not sure what I have to do to make that clear to you."

Harry's face flushed red as he surreptitiously looked behind him to see if the others were watching the exchange with his father. Thankfully, they all seemed to be more interested in either what was in the picnic baskets or what was going on in the sky as a few pinpricks of light dazzled from the start of the shower.

"Sorry, Papa," he said sheepishly as Sirius threw an affectionate arm around his shoulders. "But it was really gross."

"I remember," his father answered with a laugh as he hugged the boy close to his side. "Peter actually sicked up right where we were collecting the dew. It almost bollocks the whole thing up."

Harry chuckled for just a second until he halted his movement, forcing his father to stop with him.

"Hey," he pointed out grumpily. "Why do you get to swear?"

Sirius looked at his wholly affronted son for a moment before throwing his head back with a laugh. "Are we counting what I just said as a swear word?"

"Yes," Harry nodded his head vigorously. "We are. You just broke your own rule."

"Well, I'm certainly not about to wash my own mouth out," Sirius said with amusement. "Believe me, I've had that happen to me enough to last for a lifetime. What do you say we give you one free pass for the next time instead?"

"You seem awfully sure there'll be a next time," Harry grumbled with a pout. "Don't you have any faith in your only son?"

Sirius leaned over to drop a kiss on Harry's head, despite the boy's visible mortification that they might be overseen by the others nearby. "I have every faith in you," he assured his son. "I also just happen to know you pretty well."

After a moment of posturing that his status as a teenager required, Harry had to admit that his father was probably right and a small smile tugged up the side of his mouth as he snuggled further against Sirius' side as they walked together towards the blankets.

"Ron was afraid that you were going to smack him once he got here tonight," Harry informed him quietly with a worried frown. "Because of that agreement you made with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley last summer. He was pretty sure that you were going to let me have it after he left. Can you give him a free pass too? He really doesn't want to lose his allowance."

Sirius grimaced as he belatedly remembered that conversation. The idea that the parents in charge of the kids at the time should also being in charge of discipline if their sons acted up hadn't been his in the first place, and he still wasn't entirely in favor of it except for knowing that it would serve as a deterrent to ensure that Harry kept his nose clean at the Burrow. There was no part of Harry that wanted to be on the receiving end of Molly's displeasure.

"Done," he agreed quickly. "Just as long as he also understands that we have new rules for you to be out and about when we're in London and how unhappy I will be if they get broken."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded in relief. He turned slightly to give his father a quick hug before slipping out of Sirius' arms and flopping down on the blanket next to his friends who were already filling up on cheese, crackers and fruit.

With a sigh of tired exasperation, Sirius dropped down on the blanket next to Andromeda who handed him a glass of lemonade with a wry smile on her face.

"Everything sorted with your foul mouthed child?" she asked, her left eyebrow raised in annoyance.

"Yes," he answered sharply, taking her a bit aback with his tone. "You are my dearest cousin, Andromeda, and I love you, but never again lift your wand to my son. If he's in need of a reprimand, I will be the one to give it. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Andromeda drew in a breath of surprise when she realized that Sirius wasn't kidding around. Her cousin was usually so courteous, playful and laid back, but for the first time she was seeing a side of Sirius that she never had before. That of an incredibly protective father.

Realizing that she had widely overstepped the mark, Andromeda had the grace to look a bit sheepish from the censure. There was always going to be a part of her that saw Sirius as her impetuous little cousin. The young boy she'd had to chase around their grandfather's manor house and keep out of trouble when he'd wanted to do nothing but pull pranks and run amok. Truthfully, she was still getting used to the idea of him being a responsible adult, so it had been second nature to her to react to Harry's earlier outburst without waiting to let Sirius address it first.

"My apologies," she said sincerely. "I just know how horrified Aunt Dorea would have been to hear that little outburst, intentional or not."

"Believe me," Sirius acknowledged, "I know. But you'll remember, quite clearly I would imagine, how our parents chastised us. Harry will never experience that kind of discipline."

"Sirius," Andromeda refuted firmly, her feelings hurt at the accusation, "it was just a little scourgify spell. I'd never actually hurt him."

It wasn't that she was ignorant of the harsh way Orion and Walburga had raised their sons, Sirius especially. In fact, even though she and her sisters were mostly doted on by their own parents, Cygnus Black wasn't above hexing his daughters to teach the occasional lesson either. Using magic to punish their children was a pure-blood family tradition.

"It may have been 'just a little scourgify spell'," Sirius disagreed hotly, his voice barely low enough to avoid being overheard by the children nearby, "but it wasn't your place to cast it. I will decide when or if Harry's behavior needs correcting. I'm his father."

And that Andromeda couldn't disagree with. Honestly, she probably would have felt much the same way if anyone besides herself or Ted had ever tried to curb Nymphadora during her willful teen years.

"Harry has had a lifetime of horrible treatment from relatives," Sirius said much more softly, now that regret was apparent on his cousin's pretty face, "and I know that he will warm up to you faster if he's not worried that you're going to scold him every second. That is what you want, isn't it?"

It was.

Andromeda very much wanted to forge a close relationship with her new godson. Harry was always polite to her, but still more than a little standoffish in her presence and she was anxious to change that.

She nodded and Sirius leaned over to give her a peck on the cheek to take the sting out of his admonishment. A gasp came from the other blanket and they looked over to see Neville pointing up at the sky where a very bright streak of light was racing across the inky blue shades of night.

"Now, who can tell me the name of this particular celestial event?" Sirius asked, all Astronomy teacher at the moment as he sat back up and smiled at his students.

Of course it was Hermione that immediately turned towards him.

"It's the April Lyrids," she answered correctly. "From the constellation Lyra. The Lyrids have a relatively short orbital period of about 415 years and have been observed and reported since 687 BC. No other modern shower has been recorded as far back in time."

"Very good, Miss Granger," Sirius nodded. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Hermione beamed at his approval as the boys chuckled over the imaginary points. Fulminare was obviously too small to need anything traditional like the point system that Hogwarts used, but it wasn't unusual for the students to be gifted with sweets from Honeydukes or jokes from Zonko's for an exceptional grade.

For a while the group sat on the blankets nibbling on snacks and gazing up at the now crystal clear sky to watch the occasional meteor fragment shoot against the blackness. Harry eventually abandoned his friends to join Sirius and Andromeda on their blanket instead, budging up affectionately against his father's side as he stole the sweet red grapes from Sirius' plate.

Andromeda watched the two of them, relaxed and at ease with each other as they laughed and joked and she smiled. A part of her was always going to mourn for her murdered cousin and his beautiful wife, but another part of her was filled with a feeling of warmth over seeing Sirius so obviously happy raising Harry as his own.

As time slowly passed, all the kids were starting to grow a bit sleepy and Harry dropped his head against Sirius' shoulder and closed his eyes. Sirius automatically shifted so that he had a warm arm wrapped around Harry's small form. For just a brief second, Andromeda contemplated breaking up their little party and taking the children back to the manor and sending them to bed, but the look of peace and contentment on her cousin's face as he held his son stopped her.

Things were just as they should be, for now.

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

It was a quiet and calm morning at Malfoy manor and Lucius was in a particularly good mood.

Although he'd initially argued with his wife about sending Draco to Durmstrang, inwardly he was now pleased that Narcissa had had her way and their son attended Hogwarts instead. Draco would not have been able to come home at Easter time from Durmstrang, and Lucius could admit to himself (but no one else) that he genuinely missed having his only child around during the long school terms.

He and Draco were breakfasting on the terrace at the moment, the two of them discussing politics and the pure-blood agenda in the Wizengamot that Lucius was steering behind the scenes. The only sounds besides the soft, clipped tones of their pleasant conversation being the occasional exotic cries of the white peacocks that wandered the estate grounds.

"Avery and Macnair agree that it's time we do something about that bumbling old fool," Lucius drawled as he daintily cut into his ham and cheddar omelet. "We have a plan to discredit him enough that even the bleeding heart members will have to vote to remove him as Chief Warlock."

Draco sneered as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice. Now that Potter and his ilk were gone from Hogwarts, the only thing ruining Draco's fun at school was the presence of the infuriatingly observant headmaster.

"Anything I can do to assist you, Father?" he asked calmly, very much wanting to be involved in whatever it was that finally took Dumbledore down a few pegs.

Lucius turned to his son and allowed a small smile of pride tug up the side of his mouth. Draco was the epitome of properly raised pure-blood wizards. He had to admit that, despite his occasional protests during his son's upbringing, Narcissa had done a fine job.

"I will keep you apprised of any new developments that you should be aware of," he promised. "In the meantime, you will continue as before. It is of the utmost importance to maintain cordial and productive relationships with the next generation of like-minded members."

"Yes, Father," Draco said obediently. He worked very hard since arriving at Hogwarts to cultivate alliances with the entirety of Slytherin house and even a few Ravenclaws.

The door to the terrace opened and Narcissa Malfoy, impeccably dressed and poised as usual, glided out. Lucius and Draco both stood to welcome her as she moved towards them. She nodded at Lucius before brushing a kiss on Draco's cheek and then took her seat at the opposite end of the table from her husband.

"Good morning, Mother," Draco said affectionately. He might have emulated his father, but Draco positively adored his mother. "You look beautiful this morning."

Narcissa graced her son with a pleased smile that was just enthusiastic enough to adhere to her strict upbringing on showing one's emotions. She nodded approvingly as her house-elf Melly placed a plate of fresh fruits and toast in front of her.

"Thank you, darling," she answered sweetly as she gave her son a once over to ensure he was appropriately attired. "Are you pleased to be back at home? It must seem dreadfully boring after being away at school with all of your friends."

"No," Draco shook his head. "I'm glad to be back. Too many Mudbloods and blood traitors at Hogwarts for my taste. It makes me feel the need to bathe twice a day just to get the stink of filthy animal off of me."

Lucius couldn't entirely suppress the chuckle over his son's disgust, even though Narcissa shot him a disapproving look.

"That's not an appropriate comment for the table," Narcissa reprimanded her son curtly.

Draco wilted a bit from her quiet displeasure. He knew that it wasn't the sentiment itself that she disagreed with. It was just the inappropriate timing of it.

"I'm sorry, Mother."

Narcissa acknowledged the apology with a nod and returned to her breakfast. "Severus informs us that your half term grades are quite exemplary. Your father and I are most pleased."

The compliment made Draco perk back up, especially when he saw his father nod in agreement. It was expected that Draco maintain nothing but Exceeds Expectations grades or higher, and he worked very hard to ensure that. Nothing but scholastic excellence would be accepted in the Malfoy household under the pain of...well... pain.

"Well, some of the classes are a joke," the boy boasted haughtily, "but at least I am challenged in Potions and Arithrmancy. Professor Vector is nearly as demanding as Professor Snape is now that we're getting closer to our O.W.L year."

"Subjects that will serve you well when you join the Ministry as an Unspeakable," Lucius remarked casually as he took a sip of his tea and then looked off into the distance where they could just barely see the fluttering wings of an approaching owl.

His father's comment made Draco want to scowl but he knew that he couldn't let his displeasure be visible on his face. It was no secret in their household that Lucius expected his only son to infiltrate the very nerve center of the Ministry, in order to unearth helpful secrets that could be passed on to the more aggressive members of the Malfoy family's inner circle. When really, Draco had a passion for Alchemy, and wanted nothing more than to study the mysteries of the ancient science.

"Yes, Father," he said instead, finding his mother's eyes and reading in them the assurance that she would fight his corner when the time came.

The peacocks in the garden honked their displeasure over the winged arrival of a strange bird as a majestic black owl soared to the terrace. It wasn't a common post owl, judging by the obvious superior breeding, but one that was privately owned by someone of wealth. But it also wasn't an owl that either of the adult Malfoys recognized, although Draco found himself feeling sure that he had seen it before at Hogwarts.

The handsome creature landed gracefully on the top of the chair back to Lucius' left and held out its foot for him to retrieve the thick envelope that was tied around it. Once Lucius had done so, the bird hooted in a very dignified manner and then soared back into the sky.

If it were physically possible to do so, Lucius' normally pale face would have paled even further when he turned the envelope over and saw the family crest of the House of Black stamped on the wax seal. For months since that bastard Sirius Black had threatened him, Lucius had been dreading the arrival of what he was sure he now held in his hands. He fought to maintain his cool facade as he broke the seal and extracted a single page of heavy parchment from the envelope, his eyes skipping nervously over the words written on it.

His fears were confirmed and he couldn't restrain the urge to lash out in anger as he pounded his fist on the table and then swept his breakfast plate to the ground, shattering the delicate china instantly.

"Lucius!" Narcissa admonished harshly. "Control yourself."

On a regular day, Lucius tolerated his wife's constant adherence to etiquette because he knew that she was the arbiter of proper pure-blood behavior owing to the strict rules by which she was reared that made even the Malfoys seem like heathens.

But today wasn't a regular day.

Biting back a vicious retort, he contented himself to furiously whip the letter across the table to his astonished wife. His out-of-character behavior had Narcissa worried enough to frown as she picked the letter up and Draco stared at his parents with wide, disbelieving eyes, not used to seeing them be anything but cordial to one another.

"Draco," Narcissa said in a tight voice, "go inside, please. Your father and I need to speak privately."

Frowning nervously, Draco knew better than to disobey his mother when she gave him an order with that look on her face. He turned to his father for confirmation and rose from his chair when Lucius nodded.

"May I go flying in the garden instead, Father?" he asked as calmly as he could. He wasn't quite comfortable leaving his mother outside alone with Lucius when his father looked so murderous. At least in the sky he could watch them from a distance. "I've missed being on my broom this term with the Quidditch ban."

Lucius managed a curt nod and Draco fled the terrace with as much dignity as he could muster under the circumstances. A moment later he was in the air.

"Can he really do this?" Narcissa asked, her words choked as she already knew the answer but was having a hard time accepting it.

"He can and he has," Lucius seethed, his right hand curling and uncurling repeatedly into a fist. "We need to be able to vote the Black seat on those boards, or all of our plans are going to fall apart. We will no longer have the majority if he bows to Dumbledore's agenda."

He didn't need to add that obvious implication of what would happen to them if Lucius fell a couple of rungs down their society's ladder. His political power was only as good as his ability to wield it. Both of them had been growing uneasy for some time as Lucius felt the Dark Lord's mark on his arm start to itch again.

"Then why has Sirius waited so long?" Narcissa pondered in confusion. "He could have done this months ago when his name was first cleared. If there was nothing stopping him from taking the seats away from you, why wait all this time?"

"I don't know!" Lucius spat back, his anger getting the best of him as he contemplated just how well and truly he was buggered if he couldn't find a way to maintain his position among a group of wizards who had little tolerance for weakness.

His outburst caused Narcissa to recoil a bit fearfully. She was a formidable witch in her own right, but Lucius was deadly when he was riled.

"But I promise you this, my dear," her husband said darkly, a look of madness in his eyes, "I will make it my business to ensure that your dear cousin and that son of a Mudblood that lives with him never have the chance to ruin our son's future. By any means necessary."

A chill shot through Narcissa from the vehemence in her husband's tone.

Followed quickly by the feeling of a conundrum over whether she wanted to run from him or take him to her bed.

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

"Are you sure you want to do it like this?"

Sirius looked at his son worriedly as Harry precariously perched on the spindly little contraption that he had recently acquired for the boy. The stubborn child was leaned over and determinedly gripping the handles in front of him like his life depended on it as he nodded.

"Yep. No magic, Papa. Please?"

It was against his better judgement to agree, but somehow Sirius managed to make himself do it anyway.

Really, this shouldn't be so hard.

"If you insist," he said resignedly as he held his hands up in surrender. "Just...be careful."

Harry rolled his eyes. His father was being weirdly overprotective about the whole thing. This was something that little children managed to learn and master before they even went to primary school. It shouldn't be such a big deal that Harry was doing it at his age. He was fourteen, for Merlin's sake! And a talented flyer to boot according to what anyone who ever saw him in the air told him.

"You know I have great balance right?" he snorted at Sirius' concerned frown. "Youngest seeker in a century and all that?"

"Yes," Sirius agreed hesitantly, "but that's on a broom. This is different."

Now his son couldn't help the sarcastic chuckle that burst out of his chest and really the little blighter was starting to test Sirius' patience.

"Yeah, it's different all right," Harry laughed, amused by the unnecessary trepidation on his father's face. "One mistake on a broom and I can plummet to my death."

It was absolutely the wrong thing to say by the rapid fire way Sirius' brow morphed into a scowl, all previous signs of worry becoming ones of anger. He raised a hand and wagged a finger right in his son's face.

"One more comment like that and this will be a moot conversation because your snarky little bum will be too sore to sit on that seat," he warned with no humor at all. "Do I make myself perfectly clear, young man?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said soberly, realizing that even joking about his demise was never a smart move. "Just, please, let me do this my way, Papa?"

Sirius' face softened and he nodded with a small smile. "Alright. Go ahead."

He wasn't exactly an expert on this kind of thing himself, it not being a skill that any magical child needed to figure out, although he did have a little experience. There were spells and charms for everything in their world, but Harry had insisted that he'd learn this Muggle way. After all, the boy insisted, how hard could it be?

Well, hard, actually.

As Harry found out when he'd kicked off and the front wheel of his shiny new racing bike almost immediately hit a large pebble on the dirt path. The unexpected jolt to the frame had the front wheel starting to go all wobbly and Harry, used to having superb balance from his magic working in perfect tandem with his broom, suddenly found himself unable to stay upright on the decidedly non-magical bicycle.

Sirius watched in slow motion as his son lost his battle to keep control and, despite his promise of less than a minute earlier, it was all too easy to let his reflexes take over when his mind was preoccupied with his son's well being. His wand dropped from his holster and into his hand in a fraction of a second and he was casting a cushioning charm before he was even conscious of doing so.

Harry let out a little involuntary yelp when he found himself tumbling off to the side, but suddenly he felt lighter than a feather as he landed as soft as you please on what was supposed to be hard ground. Really, he should have been grateful for his father's fast thinking, but the humiliation of taking a fall less than fifteen seconds after pushing off had the boy's forehead wrinkling in annoyance and confusion.

He was never this clumsy.

"Okay," Sirius soothed, seeing his son's distress. Walking over to his kid, he pulled the bike up with one hand while he helped Harry up off the ground with the other. "This is what I meant by being different."

"I don't understand," Harry muttered as he looked at the bike like it was a foreign object. "I've never had any kind of problem riding my broom. It's always just come naturally to me."

"Because your broom is as magical as you are," Sirius explained patiently as he brushed some dirt from Harry's trousers. "It responds to you, much like your wand does. You've learned to balance like a wizard. It's quite different with a Muggle item."

Harry hadn't really thought about it that way. He knew how his broom worked in the general sense, and now his father's words simply confirmed what he'd been taught in Flitwick's class. He was used to being athletically talented, and it hadn't really occurred to him that he'd be anything less than accomplished on something as mundane as a Muggle bicycle.

"Come," Sirius directed, patting the bike's seat as an invitation. "Back in the saddle with you. This time I want you to try something I think will help."

At Sirius' nod, Harry straddled the bike again, determined to not make an arse of himself this time. His ears were still a little pink from the humiliation of his clumsiness and he was determined that he wasn't going to look ridiculous in front of his father again.

"Now. I want you to push the bike forward slowly just using your feet," Sirius instructed. "Don't worry about the pedals for the moment. Get a feel for the bike first."

Blushing deep pink, Harry set his jaw and did a slow walk, gliding the wheels along as he held the handle bars. He could feel the little jerky movements as the bike threatened to topple again, so he concentrated on compensating with his torso to keep it straight.

"Good," his father said encouragingly as he walked along the side. "Very good. Much better."

He let Harry push along for another few meters before calling him to a halt when he saw his son start to get the hang of it.

"Okay, now let's try this. I'm going to loosely hold the frame here, and you're going to put your feet on the pedals and try to find the balance to keep up when you're feet aren't touching the ground."

Sirius put a very light hand underneath the handlebar closest to him to steady the bike as Harry lifted his feet to the pedals . Once his son was in position, Sirius let go for a few seconds and let Harry acclimate, then held it again for a few seconds before letting go again.

"Are you feeling the weight of it?" Sirius asked with an encouraging nod. "The way your body wants to move to stop it pitching to the side?"

Harry nodded as his father held and released the bike several times. He was used to feeling out his balance on his broom to make the dangerous maneuvers that he did in the air. It wasn't quite the same on the ground, but similar enough anyway. Each time Sirius took his hand away, Harry could keep his balance for just a bit longer.

"I think I get it now," the boy acknowledged, his confidence returning. "Can I try riding again?"

"Yes." Sirius moved back a little so that his hand was now gripping the back of the bike's seat. "It's still going to feel a bit odd when you're trying to balance and pedal, but don't worry. I'm going to hold you steady back here for as long as you need me to. Just go slowly at first until the movement feels more natural to you."

Lifting his feet back up to the pedals, Harry tentatively began to push them as Sirius started a slow jog next to him. He could still feel a little shakiness, but his father's firm grip kept the bike from swaying this time and it did make him feel better.

Although he also knew that he'd be mortified if anyone saw the great Harry Potter, the star seeker of the Quidditch pitch, needing his daddy's help to ride a bike like a small child.

It was a good thing he was in fit shape, Sirius thought to himself with a laugh as he ran next to his son's bike along the walking path that wended its way around the entire estate. But Harry was already picking up the skill quickly, so Sirius sadly knew he wasn't going to be needed for much longer as his son steadily began to pedal faster and faster. A quick test of lifting his hand from the seat back proved that the boy was balancing it all on his own now and Sirius beamed a smile a mile wide as he slowed his jog just a bit and let Harry get ahead.

"You're doing it, kiddo!" he called with his hands cupped around his mouth. "Keep going, Harry!"

For a brief second, Harry startled as he realized that his father was no longer acting as his personal safety measure. The bike wobbled just a fraction before the boy quickly righted it again and his face split into a huge smile before he yelled out a loud whoop! of triumph and picked up even more speed.

A look of deep pride came across Sirius' face as he followed his child at a short distance. Truthfully, there was also a small part of him that felt a touch guilty for almost being glad that Vernon Dursley had been too petty and horrible to teach Harry how to ride a bike, since his neglect meant that Sirius got to share this rite of passage with his son.

Sadly, there weren't many typical childhood firsts that he could claim to be a part of in Harry's life.

This also wouldn't have been an activity that Sirius would have thought up on his own in any case, as it wasn't something he grew up doing. Magical children didn't ride Muggle bicycles when brooms were much more exciting.

It was only because Andromeda had quickly provided information on the first group home that needed a financial boost that had Sirius and Harry in the Muggle sports store at all. Two of the boys that lived in the home were devoted fans of Manchester United and a player named Beckham in particular, and Sirius and Harry were stocking up on footballs, jerseys and other assorted memorabilia as part of the gifts they were giving.

But as they were getting ready to check out, Harry had swallowed hard and then racked his shoulders back before coming right out and asking Sirius to buy one of the racing bikes on display for him. No awkwardness or hesitation in his son's voice. Just a polite request for a larger ticket item that so far Harry would not have dreamed of expressing a yearn for.

Sirius had been so pleasantly surprised that he actually hugged his son right there at the checkout counter making Harry blush before telling the befuddled clerk that they'd take two of the bikes instead. Charlus Potter had insisted that Sirius learned to ride his motorcycle like a Muggle first, before any of the charms were put on it. It was important to his surrogate father that the adrenaline loving young man he loved as a son could safely handle that much metal in any scenario, which was one of the reasons why Sirius hadn't vetoed the idea of Harry having the racing bike.

Now, grinning from ear to ear, he happily imagined the time they would spend together riding over the summer as he watched Harry pedaling and laughing with the glee of a much younger child as he sped along the path. The boy's joy was infectious, and Sirius, knowing that Padfoot ran faster than the wizard, quickly shifted into his animagus form and took off after his son with a happy bark.

It was a good afternoon.

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

Hundreds of miles away at Hogwarts, the servant of the Dark Lord surveilled the rapidly growing hedge maze where, to the lament of most of the student body, the vaunted Quidditch pitch used to be. A sneer of satisfaction curled his lip into the gross fascimile of a smile.

"It won't be long now, Master," he said triumphantly. "Your rebirth is within our grasp."