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

45. Chapter 45

A/N Hello readers! I know it's been too long for an update, so apologies. Sometimes I don't have the time or the muse to pump out a chapter as quickly as I wanted to.

Happy Belated Birthday to aqp gerencia! I really had wanted to get a chapter out in August for you, but I'm not as fast an author as I used to be lol

I've been horrible about responding to reviews lately, and I apologize. I'll try be more prompt about it. Know that I appreciate them all! It helps maintain my enthusiasm for the story when I get feedback :)

One guest author did leave a review on the last chapter that I want to answer, since I can't do it in PM and it might be something that others are wondering. They write:

"Even though I love the story and have been following it for years, this chapter was not my favorite (I still enjoyed it! Thanks very much for the update).. It feels like Sirius is becoming more stern with Harry and is constantly scolding him. Maybe because he is his headmaster now too. But, generally, I miss goofy fun Sirius."

I feel that this is a fair assessment of where Sirius is right now, and I wanted this reader (and others) to know that Sirius is being written this way intentionally.

When the story first starts out, he's a nervous godfather trying to figure out how to be a parent. But as time went on, and his relationship with Harry evolved, Sirius' love for Harry went from being the love of a godfather to the love of a father. It's significantly more intense, and Sirius' actions reflect that. There's nothing more powerful than the love you have for your child, which Sirius now understands. But when you also throw in the dangers that they are facing, it's made Sirius even more determined that Harry won't suffer the same fate as his parents. It's also made him more controlling, which is not always a good thing.

Sirius will ease up a bit at some point, but I will warn you that it's going to get worse before it gets better. So hopefully you stay tuned to see how it all works out!

As always, forgive any typos or mistakes. When I get to the fourth edit, I have to stop for awhile lol

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

Sirius stood in front of the full length mirror in the sitting room of his bedroom suite and finished tying the black silk tie around his neck that was feeling more than a little like a noose. He sighed as he smoothed the length down the front of his pristine white dress shirt, absently rubbing the crudely tattooed runes hidden underneath. In all his years languishing in Azkaban, he'd never once imagined himself about to do what he had planned for the day.

So this is what getting old feels like...

But he reminded himself that he was doing this, not only for his own beloved son, but for the scores of school-aged magical children who were being deprived of some much needed educational instruction. Obviously, it was going to take time and a lot of effort to cultivate support for his planned initiatives, but Charlus Potter had taught him that anything worth doing always required a lot of hard work and Sirius, having successfully fallen into his role of headmaster of an, albeit small, magical school, was up to the challenge.

He was drawn out of his musings by a sleepy knock on the door and he frowned.

Harry simply wasn't ever going to be a morning person, even under the best of circumstances, and he'd only become more surly than usual once Sirius had started dragging him out of bed at dawn to recite the twice daily refrain of the animagus spell. At his father's summons, Harry would grudgingly crawl out of his comfy bed, place the tip of his wand to his heart and dutifully chant 'Amato Animo Animato Animagus' before being allowed to dive back under the covers and quickly return to dreamland.

It was far too soon for Sirius' grumpy little future animagus to be awake again.

"Come in, kiddo."

The door opened and his drowsy son in rumpled pajamas stumbled in rubbing his eyes under his glasses. Harry muttered a quiet hey as he shuffled over to the sofa next to where Sirius was standing and flopped down on it.

"What's got you up, sleepyhead? Everything okay?"

Physically, Harry appeared fine, if a bit disoriented, so Sirius was concerned that maybe there had been a nightmare that had the boy awake again so quickly, even if his trusty mood mirror hadn't alerted him of any distress. But Harry just nodded tiredly as he stretched a bit and yawned so wide that his father could practically see his tonsils. Quite frankly it was adorable.

"That ruddy owl Errol woke me up scratching at my window," his son said with an annoyed huff, drawing his feet up onto the sofa and settling in. "Mrs. Weasley's invited me over to the Burrow since you're going to be at the Ministry all day".

Sirius suppressed a snort that would only irritate his kid even further. When he made the decision to acquire their second owl, an eager young tawny they'd named Cicero, to help with the heavy load of mail their household regularly had, Harry had pushed to include the Weasley family owl in the re-working of the estate wards at Molly's request.

Now, by the scowl on the boy's face, it seemed that his son was regretting his willingness to be helpful.

Sirius had been made perfectly aware that Molly didn't particularly care for the early morning disturbance in their house because of Ron's need to also recite the animagus spell. Apparently, Arthur was the one that had taken on the task of waking his youngest son every morning in time for the sunrise, and with Ron being even less of a happy camper about it than Harry was, there was a daily battle between father and son until the boy woke up enough to remember that this had been his choice.

Ever protective over her brood, Molly had staunchly opposed the idea of Ron doing the potentially dangerous spell since the beginning, and now she was pushing hard to convince Arthur that Ron had no business attempting the transformation if he couldn't even be bothered to wake up on his own to recite the spell. It had been the subject of more than one heated discussion at the Burrow.

Fortunately for Ron, Arthur had taken the rare position of putting his foot down and bravely facing his wife's displeasure. With things being as they were, he was in favor of anything that might give his son an advantage in a tight spot, especially given the boy's penchant for finding trouble and his high risk status as the best mate of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Arthur also remembered what it had been like to be a headstrong and somewhat lazy teenage boy, so he was patiently dragging Ron along.

For now.

With the temperamental Weasley matron already on the warpath about the regular disruption in schedules, Sirius knew she would see no problem in sending over an early morning owl to ensure that the Black-Potter household was awake as well.

"So, can I go?" Harry asked, his eyes pleading at his father. "Charlie made a surprise trip home last night, so they're having a few pick up games of Quidditch today and I'd really like to fly against him again."

Sirius hummed thoughtfully as he crossed the room to reach into an antique mother-of peal inlaid box and withdrew an elegant tie tack of onyx and platinum and its matching set of cufflinks, all emblazoned with the Black family crest in diamonds. Thinking back to last summer, at Harry's birthday party and then again at the Quidditch World Cup, he remembered how much Harry had enjoyed the stiff competition with Arthur and Molly's second eldest son during the festivities.

Although Charlie was a fair bit older than Harry, he was still an incredibly talented seeker himself, and the two of them had gotten on like a house on fire.

A bit of lingering guilt over Harry's sometimes lonely status as an only child tempered Sirius' immediate reaction, which would have been to refuse the boy permission to intrude on what was surely coveted family time for the Weasleys.

"Dora is coming over later this morning to train with you," he reminded his son with a bit of a frown. "Have you forgotten?"

Honestly, Sirius had been surprised to receive her owl confirming their plans after the little tiff that had taken place at the London flat. He'd been sure that his younger cousin wanted to be nowhere near Celestial Court at the moment.

"You mean, coming over to babysit me, more like," Harry grumbled irritably. "It's not like you'll let me stay here on my own."

"That's not true, and you know it," Sirius scolded gently as he moved back in front of the mirror and donned the formal jewelry. "You were very excited to train with her when we first started talking about it. Don't be rude."

"She's really probably coming over just to tick me off," Harry protested. "I mean, you heard her when Ron and I got back. She was more angry with me than you were."

"Well, we were fairly frightened," Sirius reminded his son with a raised eyebrow as he sat down on the sofa next to him. Harry squirmed a bit from the stern rebuke before his father decided he'd made his point. "But I don't actually think she'd bother coming here just to give you a telling off. She could have sent a howler to do that for her."

He playfully tugged at Harry's big toe to get the boy out of his funk a little, and while his son may be acting affronted, Sirius knew that really Harry was quite upset with the idea that Nymphadora might be cross with him. He'd obviously grown fond of fun loving young woman fairly quickly, if Remus' intel on the boy's crush was accurate.

"Won't you be happy to see her?" he asked innocently. "I'd gotten impression that you enjoyed her company."

Harry looked up, skeptically searching his father's eyes for some hidden implication. Sirius was annoyingly good at reading his thoughts and the idea that his father might know about Harry's unrequited fancy made him inwardly wince. It would be mortifying if he was actually made to admit it out loud since he knew that Sirius, despite his usually supportive parenting, wouldn't be able to keep himself from teasing Harry mercilessly about it.

But Sirius had not been an Auror for nothing, which meant that he was a master of the poker face, and he doggedly kept his silence despite the probing look he was getting from the clearly uncomfortable boy in front of him.

In truth, Sirius was perfectly aware that Harry's potential feelings for Dora might be a conversation that the two of them would need to have at some point, but it wasn't going to be today if he could help it to save them both a bit of awkwardness.

It was one thing to give his son dating advice about harmlessly flirting with a pretty little witch his own age, and quite another to take on the complex topic of a budding interest in a significantly older cousin who also just happened to be infatuated with Harry's new godfather.

Harry was young, and crushes came and went fairly quickly most of the time for teenage boys. No one was in any danger of being hurt at the moment and there was a better than average chance that his son would drop the idea all on his own if given enough time. If not, Sirius would tackle it then.

"She's okay," Harry shrugged eventually, feeling a measure of relief when it looked like he wasn't about to be grilled on his love life or lack thereof. "I do think it's pretty cool that she's an Auror. I guess I never really thought about Aurors being women because I've mostly only heard about you, my Dad and Professor Moody."

"Technically the real Moody was never your professor," Sirius reminded his son with a scowl that showed how annoyed he still was with Albus over the whole deception, "but that's besides the point. Magic doesn't favor one gender over the other. There have been and still are several incredibly gifted witches who became Aurors. Don't forget that Neville's Mum was one. Alice was positively lethal with a wand. It was only because she was so-outnumbered that she fell to the Cruciatus that night."

"I do kind of forget about the Longbottoms," Harry admitted shamefully. "That's pretty bad, right? Not remembering about them? I mean, they were friends with my parents and Neville's my mate. We both grew up without our Mums and Dads, so you'd think it would be something we talked about."

"It's not bad," Sirius assured him with a shake of his head. He reached out and pulled Harry into a half hug. "You have quite a lot of your own worries to be getting on with, and I don't really think that Neville would want you bringing the subject up all that often. Anymore than you would want your friends always going on about what happened to James and Lily. Would you?"

Harry shook his head. He hated it when his parents' deaths were brought up. The subject was entirely too painful to think about, and he didn't like others talking about it because most didn't actually know them in person. The Potters were heroes in the magical world, but hardly anyone who talked about that fateful night ever really thought about what it had meant for James and Lily's only son.

Realizing that he still owed Harry an answer to his request for permission, Sirius ran a hand down his face and gave in. As part of their ongoing discussions on more freedom of movement for the teenager, the Burrow had already been deemed a safe place for him to visit on his own, so Sirius had no reason to say no.

It wasn't that he didn't have confidence in his son to take care of himself if something happened. After all, Harry had been fairly independent before coming to live with him, and the boy had clearly proven both his skill and bravery on several occasions. Sirius would just prefer to keep his child wrapped up safe and sound at the chateau and out of harm's way.

But he had made a promise to Harry, and now he had to continue to keep it

Leaning over, he dropped a kiss on Harry's bed-head and then stood to finish getting dressed.

"You may go over to the Burrow after your training with Dora," he said, picking up his hairbrush to smooth it through his loose curls as he tried to not think of all the terrible things that could happen to his son when he wasn't right there to protect him, "but I want you home by four o'clock."

He ignored the little whine that came out of his son at the thought of having his fun curtailed so early. When it came to Quidditch, Harry would play from sun-up to sundown if given the chance and he loved spending time at the Burrow.

"I know you're always very welcome over there," Sirius admitted, "and I'm sure that Molly will try to wheedle you into staying for dinner, but we shouldn't impose too long on their family time. Charlie doesn't get back here all that often and the Weasleys should get to monopolize most of his attention themselves."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied obediently as he stretched his legs out on the sofa. Although he wasn't happy about the restricted visit, he still felt a measure of relief. A part of him had been worried that he'd be told to stay home. "Are you going to be gone all day too?"

"Most of it," Sirius answered with a grimace. "The members of the Wizengamot are usually the kind of people that like nothing more than hearing the sound of their own voices, so I imagine that I'm in for hours of grandstanding and nonsense."

Harry gave his father a sympathetic look as Sirius donned a black and gray brocade waistcoat. He knew that Sirius didn't have much patience for self-aggrandizing blowhards and felt bad that his father would have to endure a whole day of listening to them prattle on.

"That robe is ghastly, by the way," he said instead, changing the subject.

Sirius looked down at the official Wizengamot robe he'd just grabbed and frowned. His son wasn't wrong in his assessment. A horrid plum color that flattered no one, it had been delivered by their new owl yesterday from Twilfit and Tattings, the designated robe-makers for the Ministry. As a holder of a family seat, the crest of the House of Black was emblazoned on the left breast of Sirius' robe, whereas the elected members merely had the silver W.

"I remember seeing my grandfather Arcturus in his," Sirius mused as he rubbed his thumb over the raised stitching of the crest, "and thinking exactly the same thing. I don't know what wizard in history was mad enough to think that this color looked dignified. Although I've always had my suspicions that it must have been a Dumbledore."

"Better you than me," Harry said with a chuckle, thinking of his former headmaster's penchant for bright colors. "It's almost as bad as Ron's dress robes."

Sirius joined him in the laugh, remembering the awful garment that Molly had picked up for her son. Regardless of how ugly it was, he was sad that Ron never actually got to wear it to the Yule Ball because of his tiff with Hermione.

"Well, if you weren't my heir, you'd probably never have to wear one yourself," he told his son with a shrug, "unless you decided to run for election."

Harry wrinkled his nose in distaste and vehemently shook his head which made his father bark out another laugh. James had always had much the same opinion of politicians.

"No thanks," Harry stated emphatically, making no attempt to keep the disdain out of his voice. "But will I really have to take up the Black seat someday?"

Sirius pursed his lips as he assessed the look of horror on his son's face at the prospect. He imagined that his own would have been similar at Harry's age.

"It will be your choice," he assured the boy, not imaging the relief he saw. "I hadn't planned on getting involved myself, but I've since had a change of heart after starting up your school. In theory, the most effective way to change the system is to do so from within, so I guess we'll see how persuasive I can be."

Harry sat quietly for a moment as he took in his father's words. Sirius had discussed his proposed political agenda with his son already, so Harry was well aware of why his father had decided to wade into the shark filled waters. It would mean a large change for all magical children if he were to be successful.

"I think you'll be brilliant," the boy said affectionately, bringing a soft smile to Sirius' pensive face.

"Thanks, kiddo."

Harry's words meant more to Sirius than he could say, because despite all of his lofty positions and endeavors, nothing meant more to him than his son's approval.

"I don't think I told you this, but you have your great-grandfather to thank for the Potter seat getting dissolved," he continued as he grabbed a lint brush and meticulously swiped at the sleeves of the new robe. "Henry Potter might have been a fairly big influencer in the Wizengamot in his day, but unfortunately there were a lot of people who thought that he took his fondness for Muggles a bit too far when he tried to bring a resolution to help them during their first World War."

"Really?"

Harry sat up, all rapt attention at this new bit of information on one of his ancestors. He loved it when his Papa shared stories of the Potter family after so many years of being deprived of his own history.

"Mm-hmm," Sirius said with a nod as he shook out a few drops of the pricey cologne he favored into his hands and patted his jaw and neck. Smiling playfully, he shook out another few drops and patted Harry's neck as well, making the boy laugh at his father's silliness.

"Henry was so incensed that Magical Britain was just going to sit on its hands," Sirius continued as he straightened his shirt collar. "There were so many people dying, and he couldn't understand why it was being ignored just because they were Muggles. So, he very quietly started an underground movement of aid to the Muggle armed services while publicly trying to push through legislation in the Wizengamot for official support. It never happened, of course, because too many of our kind wanted to just stay out of it and let the Muggles kill themselves off."

Sirius' face clouded over like thunder as he thought of the needless loss of life.

The Muggle wars and the Magical world's refusal to give aid had been a hot topic of conversation at the Potter dinner table on several occasions when Sirius moved in. Of course, wizardkind had their own madmen to deal with over the years, but Sirius still felt that it was very bad form to not do your bit in times of turmoil when you had talents to contribute.

It's what had made him so determined to fight against Voldemort and his ilk as a headstrong teenager. Darkness always needed to be defeated.

"Anyway," he finished with a sigh, "after the Muggle war was over and the enormous butcher's bill was tallied up, Henry quit the Wizengamot and gave up the Potter family seat forever. As far as he was concerned, it was a useless body if it had no interest in preserving the lives of innocents and general common decency. Your grandfather Charlus agreed with him, which made it easier, of course. No reason to maintain a family seat if your heir is just as opposed to serving as you are. As a rule, the family seats are passed on to the heirs once they married, so their opinions matter."

Harry's eyes were wide with surprise and admiration over the actions of his great-grandfather and grandfather. Knowing how much the magical world embraced its traditions, it must have really taken some courage to make such a stand like that. To publicly show that your values meant more to you than your position in society.

Standing in front of his mirror, the vibrant plum hue of the robe glaring back at him, Sirius shook his head in horror.

"I look like my grandfather in this thing."

"I'll bet he wouldn't have supported aiding the Muggles," Harry chuckled with a wry grin, knowing how the Blacks felt about the ones they considered lesser forms of life.

Sirius returned the grin with a rueful shake of his head. "He certainly would not."

Sizing up his own reflection, Sirius was uncomfortably caught on just how much he did indeed resemble Arcturus. It wasn't really something that he'd ever thought about growing up, but right now in the mirror, the vivid robes casting an almost sickly purple color against his skin, the likeness between grandfather and grandson was glaringly obvious.

Of course, Arcturus too had been a handsome man in his prime. It was only his love of the darks arts and disdain for anyone not of pure blood that rendered him ugly.

It made Sirius even more determined to prove that the only similarities between the Black men was their physical appearance. He'd never approach politics the way Acturus had, with hatred and intolerance.

"I remember being at the manor house on several occasions when Grandfather would get ready for a Wizengamot session," he reminisced with a grimace. "Unlike most other families, the head of the Blacks refused to step aside in favor of his heir after my parents' wedding. Bringing me to the manor on assembly days was my father's not-so-subtle little way of reminding Grandfather that his time was supposed to be over."

"Why did he refuse to step aside?" Harry asked curiously. From his previous instruction into his adopted family, the Blacks had always been nothing if not traditional.

"Because he was a bitter and petty little man who couldn't let go of the power," Sirius answered, a disgusted sneer marring his dark Patrician facial features. "That, and I'm fairly sure that Grandfather had no respect for his own son, so he didn't want Orion usurping him in anyway. My father did his duty and married the woman that was chosen for him, but he was also a belligerent drunk and a very public womanizer. Both of which Arcturus saw as unforgivable weaknesses."

Harry looked suitably disturbed by the implications of that statement as well as the harsh way that Sirius voiced it, so the concerned father reined in his emotions a bit as he took a seat next to his son again.

"Understand this," he began again, a little more calmly as he gently wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders. "In Pure-blood marriages, fidelity is not necessarily a firm expectation. But what is expected is discretion, in order to avoid social embarrassment. In that world, my father was free to have as many dalliances with other women as he liked as long as it was done out of the public eye. But his fondness for Firewhiskey often impaired his judgement. So Grandfather refused to hand over the reins of leadership to him as long as he was behaving like an ill-bred boor."

There was a part of Sirius, the part that valued honor and decency, that almost understood Arcturus' displeasure with Orion's frequent bouts of depravity. But the larger part of him that despised both of the elder Black men refused to agree with his grandfather's position on just about anything.

"Uncle Alphard once told me a story," he continued instead, "of a time when Arcturus stormed into The Leaky Cauldron and caught my father...inappropriately engaged with a young woman."

Actually, Arcturus had caught Orion in the midst of a raucous celebration for a huge win by the Montrose Magpies, drunkenly sitting at the bar and lustily snogging the much younger Jo King who was a reserve Chaser for the team. When his father walked in, the very married Orion had his tongue down Jo's throat and his hand down her blouse, but Sirius wasn't about to say that in front of his already wide-eyed and impressionable son.

"Grandfather physically pulled my father away from her and then backhanded him in front of all the patrons," he admitted carefully, not quite sure that he wanted his son to know too many details but needing to be honest with Harry about the violent history of his adoptive family. "Hard enough, apparently, that he broke Orion's nose. Of course, Father was too drunk himself to retaliate effectively and Arcturus apparated them both out of there after shouting that Orion was a disgrace to the Black name."

Harry looked positively gobsmacked, and Sirius shook his head as he sighed. For all of his parents' uptight rules for proper manners and adherence to protocol for their sons, Orion was the exact opposite once he was halfway through a bottle.

"It was quite a show they put on," Sirius assured his son. "People were talking about it for weeks after, and I know that a lot of gold changed hands to keep the story off the front page of the Prophet. Uncle Alphard said that once Grandfather got Orion back to Black Manor, he hexed him so badly that Father was unconscious for two days. I was just a young boy at the time, so I don't remember anything unusual going on at home but, in all honesty, I didn't exactly feel sympathy for Father after hearing about it."

"Is that what made Orion so cruel?" Harry asked sadly, the haunting memory of seeing Sirius' scarred back making his stomach hurt. "Because his father hated him so much?"

Sirius frowned as he sat back a little and held his son closer.

One of the last things he ever expected to be doing this morning was giving serious thought to the origins of Orion's violent temper and brutality towards his children. In his mind, the horrible treatment he had received from his father had always been simply inexcusable and, upon pondering it further now, he firmly decided that it didn't really matter to him how badly Orion had been beaten.

An abused son didn't have to become an abusive father.

"It might have been a small part of it," Sirius conceded, not wanting to unpack all of that particular baggage. "But remember, Harry, that you always have a choice in how you live your life. Many people face trials and hardships and they still manage to remain kind and decent at the end. It all depends on who you want to be."

Harry thought about that for a minute before nodding his head. He looked at Sirius, and all of the terrible things his father had been through, and knew that it could have ended so differently. Yet Sirius had risen above his violent childhood to become a loving and kind man.

Truly a good person.

"I want to be like you," he said quietly as he turned and wrapped his arms around Sirius' neck.

Too moved to even choke out a response to that, Sirius' heart simply burst with love for his son and he closed his eyes and held Harry tightly against his chest. As for Harry, he could have happily stayed in his father's arms for as long as Sirius allowed it. Receiving affection from a parent that loved him was never going to get old in the formerly neglected boy's opinion.

Unfortunately, both of them had things to do this morning, so Sirius gave his son one more warm squeeze and released him before checking his watch.

"I'll have to get going soon if I don't want to be late for my first session," he said with a resigned sigh as he rose from the sofa and pulled Harry up with him. "But seeing as you are already awake, let's go down and get you some breakfast first."

Together, they left Sirius' bedroom and walked downstairs to the dining room where the house elves had already left several warm platters of food for Harry on the buffet.

While the boy filled a plate, Sirius poured his son some juice and spent a few minutes generally fussing over him, unconsciously making an effort to be the sort of solicitous parent he'd never had himself. Harry, understanding his father's overall mood, allowed the overt hovering if it made Sirius feel better, but knew that he might have to eventually shove the reluctant man out the door.

"Now you're just procrastinating," Harry said wisely after the third time his father asked him if he had enough to eat. There was food enough for a small army around them, so clearly available quantity was not an issue.

"You're right," Sirius admitted with a grimace as he finally stood from the table to take his leave. "And I know there's really nothing for it."

He stooped to plant a farewell kiss on the top of Harry's head before affectionately ruffling the wild spikes and making the boy glare as he ducked away.

"I'll stop by Hestia's office while I'm at the Ministry and make sure that there's room in the top box to add Charlie's name to the guest list," he promised his son who immediately beamed at him. "I'm assuming he'll want to attend the match with the rest of his family if he's still here?"

"Brilliant!" Harry said, nodding happily. "I'll tell them when I go over."

Sirius smiled at his very pleased son and it took a bit of the edge off of his general unhappiness over having to attend the Wizengamot session.

"Remember, young man, back by four o'clock and no later, please," Sirius reminded the boy sternly. "Have fun, but behave yourself and mind Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. I don't want to hear that you lot got up to anything dangerous when no one was looking. Mischief multiplies in numbers."

"Yes, sir," Harry nodded obediently. "You have fun too."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at his son's cheeky remark as Harry grinned at him. Both of them knew just exactly how much Sirius was actually looking forward to a day of politicking. The one bright spot was the potential for seeing Lucy Malfoy positively seethe over being unseated.

With another weary sigh, Sirius turned on the spot and was gone.

"Good luck," Harry said to the air as he picked up his fork and proceeded to demolish the rest of his sausages.

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

British Muggles didn't know this, but their Parliament was actually styled after the wizarding world's Wizengamot which pre-dated Parliament by hundreds of years. Once upon a time, the line between Wizard society and Muggle society was a bit more blurred than it was today, and several ideas and traditions had been exchanged between the two worlds on a fairly frequent basis.

But then a few bad magical apples had ruined the barrel by persecuting their non-magical brethren, which led to an overall fear and misunderstanding of magic and the people who possessed it, and the powers that be that had been guiding the two cultures up until that point decided that their mutually beneficial cooperation should come to a grinding halt.

Until, finally, all that was left were a few folklore tales and superstitions in the Muggle world, while the Magical world clung tighter to their older ways, which was still fairly apparent to the Muggle-born in the present day.

It didn't take a genius to see that wizards and witches were significantly more old-fashioned overall than their non-magical counterparts.

As for the wizarding world's political body, the Wizengamot served as the presiding authority over just about everything in the day-to-day lives of its constituents. The members made all the laws and also enforced them. From heinous crimes such as murder, to potentially dangerous activity like violating the Statute of Secrecy, to even the more mundane task of legislating the necessary thickness of cauldrons.

Like the British Parliament, a large number of the Wizengamot members were elected by the general public.

They ran campaigns that were really nothing more than glorified versions of popularity contests, and they generally counted on people voting for the candidates with the strongest magic instead of the best ideas. They made speeches, presented platforms that almost surely profited themselves in some way, and obligingly smiled for the crowds and kissed the babies.

And while some of them may have started out with fair intentions to do good works, as the saying goes 'power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely' which wasn't any different in the Wizengamot than any other ruling body.

There was more than enough cheating, bribery and scandal going on for the magical community to view their legislators with a skeptical eye.

While Parliament had its House of Commons and the smaller House of Lords, the bulk of the Wizengamot was comprised of elected members, but it also had a contingent of members who held their historical family seats. These members were descendants of the Wizarding world's founders, and while they might be outnumbered by the elected members when it came to the number of votes, their standings as ancient houses generally meant that they held enough sway to render them the true power brokers behind the scenes.

Fortunately for Sirius' plans, one of those coveted inherited seats now belonged to him.

This morning there was a throng of activity at the Ministry as Sirius made his way towards the inner chamber of the DMLE where today's session was being convened. He silently thanked Merlin that his first Wizengamot attendance would be a legislative session and not one presiding over a trial in the dungeons. Having been denied his own trial once upon a time, it wasn't exactly an activity he was particularly looking forward to.

Of course he encountered many stunned and curious faces as he strode along, looking dashing despite being clad in his unflattering official attire. There was still a fairly heavy air of mystery about him as far as most people were concerned. Both for his own past as well as his present as Harry Potter's newly adoptive father. Thankfully, he was somewhat relieved to see that most of the attention being paid to him was more pleasant surprise rather than fear or disdain.

Feeling a bit better about that, he smiled back at just about everyone that threw one in his direction, but being the suspicious man that he was, he was already tired of being in a crowd when he couldn't be entirely sure of who might be watching him, so he quickly made his way towards the chamber's imposing double set of doors.

Off to the side, he caught a glimpse of a scowling Lucius Malfoy arguing with two other men who were attired in family seat robes like Sirius', and even though it had been a fair number of years since his school days, he easily recognized the unpleasant faces of Maxwell Flint, another one of Sirius' distant cousins, and Barnabas Nott. Lucius, already red with rage from whatever the trio were discussing, glared at Sirius' arrival so hotly that it was a wonder Sirius' garishly colored robes didn't catch on fire.

In response, Sirius just smiled and gave Lucy a jaunty little wave that made the pompous blond go for his wand.

Unluckily for Lucius, Sirius's reflexes were much faster, and his own wand had already dropped from his arm holster and was poised for casting before Lucius even got his released from that obnoxious cane he carried.

Apparently, Nott was a bit smarter about considering the ramifications of starting a fight in the halls of the DMLE in broad daylight than Malfoy was.

His large, meaty hand shot out like a viper strike and restrained Lucius, even as he scowled at Sirius. While Sirius himself would have welcomed the opportunity to do some hexing at those who had managed to escape justice for their heinous crimes during the war, Nott and Flint were clearly going to keep up the charade of their professed innocence.

Sirius' well known skills as a dueler probably had a lot to do with their restraint, as the other men were typical bullies who preferred to outnumber their victims and hide behind masks. Amused by the cowardice of the not-so-secret Death Eaters when faced with a target that could and would successfully strike back, Sirius barked out a laugh as he replaced his wand and entered the chamber.

The little altercation would obviously mean watching his back once the session was over, but truthfully Sirius had a lot of pent up energy from staying holed up at Celestial Court with his kid most of the time, and if Lucius and the others didn't mind their manners, they'd quickly find that Sirius might just be spoiling for a fight to let off a little steam himself.

Inside the chamber, he was immediately assaulted by a loud cacophony of noise as the members gathered in clusters to wheel and deal with each other, and considering that the majority of seats were already filled and the steady stream of chatter buzzing around the room was echoing loudly against the heavy oak walls, he knew that he was rather late. A quick scan of the room had him locating the section where the family seats were arranged and he smiled to himself as he saw Grayson Abbott and Archibald Brown sitting on either side of the empty seat that belonged to the Black family.

Sirius was well pleased by the presence of the other men. He'd been hoping, but hadn't known for sure, that they'd taken up their family seats.

He knew both Gray and Archie from school, and while they hadn't been close friends with the Marauders, they'd all gotten on well enough for what time they'd spent together.

Like the Potters, the Abbotts had traditionally lived in Godric's Hollow for generations, and with James and Gray being the same age, and their mothers socializing with each other often, the two boys had been friends in their childhood before leaving home to go to school. But, once at Hogwarts, being sorted into separate houses meant that they had new friends and interests and they'd naturally drifted apart, although James had made the effort to include Gray in some of the Marauders' less mischievous activities from time to time.

Archie, while a Gryffindor himself like Sirius and James, was a few years older than them. He'd also been made prefect during the Marauders' second year, which meant that he more often than not had to put on a good show of mostly futile attempts to rein in the younger miscreants of his house. Fortunately for the younger boys, Archie had a good sense of fun underneath his responsible exterior, and he cut them a lot of slack with the firm understanding that he wasn't to be the target of any of their infamous pranks.

Sirius had quietly been counting on Gray and Archie being the first members that he'd approach with his ideas for a new method to magical education. Although they were pure-bloods, both the Abbott and Brown families had opposed Voldemort during the war and lost relatives who had been labeled as blood traitors. Gray and Archie, now the heads of their ancient families, had always been decent lads, and Sirius suspected that their general political ideologies were probably fairly in-line with his own.

Besides which, each of them had a daughter in Harry's year at Hogwarts, so they definitely had some skin in the game when it came to a little school reform.

With his day having just gotten brighter, there was a spring in his step as Sirius took the steps two at a time and made his way over to them..

Both rose to their feet to greet him as he climbed up to the family tier. Gray beamed a wide smile as he reached to enthusiastically shake Sirius' hand.

"Well, look who finally got off his lazy arse and decided to do his duty," Gray teased as he clapped Sirius on the back. "And here we've been stuck with that wanker Malfoy sitting between us for years."

Sirius laughed as he also exchanged a handshake with Archie who was grinning just as broadly.

"My apologies, boys," he said in amusement. "I was a bit otherwise engaged there for a while."

Both Gray and Archie practically choked over the casual way Sirius brought up his unjust imprisonment, and truthfully it even surprised Sirius that he could now almost joke about it. But he'd promised himself that he was going to try harder to not dwell on the past if he could help it. Harry needed him to worry about their future more.

"Excuses," Gray scoffed, quickly recovering from his initial shock as the three took their seats, the merriment dancing in his eyes betraying his sharp tone. "You've been back on English soil, what, almost a year now, yeah? What's a filthy rich swot like you had to do that was more important than saving us from listening to Malfoy bore us all to death with his long winded speeches on the sacredness of blood purity?"

"You know what I've heard," Archie said conspiratorially as he leaned across Sirius to wink at Gray. "I've heard that Black here took a job as a professor at Hogwarts just so he could keep searching for the lost treasure of the Founders."

Sirius chuckled at hearing that, the memories of all the late nights sneaking around the castle coming back to him.

It had been the long standing excuse the Marauders gave to their house prefect as a way of explaining where they disappeared to so often. They weren't about to admit to what they really had been up to, which was either working on their handy little map, completing the animagus spell or eventually roaming around the Forbidden Forest with Moony.

Because there weren't actually any legends about the Founders leaving behind lost treasure, and even if there had been, the Marauders had certainly never tried to find it.

"Oh really?" Gray refuted, raising an eyebrow and joining in the fun. "Well, I heard that Sirius was really a singer named Stubby Boardman, and that he spent most of his time touring around Britain with his band The Hobgoblins."

Now Archie was laughing as well, so hard that his face was turning dangerously pink. "Who told you that rubbish?"

"A woman who used to mind Hannah for us once in a while," Gray answered with an amused shrug. "Last year, when the papers were full of nothing but...well...you know," he said awkwardly, looking at Sirius with an unspoken apology that Sirius just waved away. "Anyway, Doris swore up and down that Sirius was actually this Boardman chap, and that they'd had a torrid love affair years earlier."

"Is she decent looking?" Archie asked innocently. "What say you, Sirius? Any interest in rekindling an old flame?"

"I'm quite sure I would have remembered a woman with such an active imagination," Sirius replied with an indulgent smirk. "Sorry to rain on both of your parades, but I have been rather busy otherwise occupied for the last several months."

"Yeah," Gray said with a snort. "I saw the photos of the thrashing you gave Ludo Bagman a few months ago. Well done. It's about time someone shut that prat up."

Now Sirius' formerly sparkling eyes clouded over like thunder as he remembered the events of that terrible day.

"He's lucky that's all I did to him," he answered darkly. "It's bad enough that Harry got roped into participating in that blasted Tournament in the first place. I wasn't about to let one of the organizers put him in even more danger than he already was."

Sirius looked every inch the dangerous Black he was at the moment, and it reminded the other men that, all kidding aside, Sirius had a fierce reputation for a reason.

"So Bagman was responsible for you pulling Harry out of Hogwarts?" Archie asked seriously. "That's what my Lavender says. Her letters home talked of nothing but for weeks afterwards."

"Not entirely," Sirius replied, shaking his head. "Bagman's machinations were just the final act in a long series of grievances. To be quite blunt, Hogwarts has several problems which I think it's high time were addressed. It's the real reason I'm here."

The buzz of the assembly room suddenly quieted down some and Sirius glanced up to see Albus stride towards the center dais. Putting his wand to his throat, Albus' voice boomed out as he took the throne-like chair designated for the Chief Warlock.

"Seal the doors!" he called out before glancing around the room until he was looking up at the hereditary section and spying Sirius in the Black family seat. The two wizards locked eyes for a moment, a small surprised frown flitting around on Albus' face, before he turned his gaze to the day's agenda in front of him.

"What exactly do you have in mind, Sirius," Archie asked softly, his left eyebrow quirked up. Gray was also looking at him with obvious curiosity.

Staring determinedly in the old headmaster's direction, Sirius smiled a humorless smile.

"Let me buy you both lunch during the break, and we can talk about it."

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

After Sirius left for the Wizengamot, Harry had finished his breakfast, thanked the elves for the lovely meal, and then went back up to his room to wash up and change out of his pajamas before Tonks arrived. Standing in front of his well stocked wardrobe, he pursed his lips and tried to guess what he should put on for their lessons. Ultimately deciding on a simple T-shirt and sweat pants, since he was pretty sure that Tonks was planning on drilling him on physical defensive moves instead of spell work.

He'd just finished tying the laces on his trainers when he heard her amplified voice call out to him and he dashed into the bathroom to quickly drag a brush through his impossible hair.

"I'll be right down!" he called out as loudly as possible, his voice tinged with frustration as he tried to tame the wild locks.

"You're fighting an impossible battle dear," his mirror sighed in defeat.

"There's a lot of empty storage rooms in this house," Harry warned the charmed object with a growl. "So unless you fancy being locked away in one for all eternity, I suggest you keep your bloody opinions to yourself."

With that, he threw the brush down with a huff and turned to storm out. Behind him, he heard the affronted mirror say in a shocked voice

"Well, I never..."

"Stupid magical bathrooms with their stupid magical mirrors," he grumbled to himself as he slammed his bedroom door shut and charged down the stairs to the entry hall where Tonks was waiting with a bemused smirk on her face.

"Wotcher, Harry," she greeted him with a laugh as he skidded to an ungainly halt on the marble floor in front of her. "Someone's a little ragged this morning.

Blushing, Harry grimaced and dared a look up at her sparkling dark eyes that were alive with mischief. Today she had opted to color her hair a royal purple and was wearing a Muggle-style exercise ensemble of a black tank top and matching leggings that clung to her fit form and showed off her curves. Harry couldn't quite suppress the gulp that got caught in his throat from her appearance and he quickly averted his eyes so he didn't get caught staring anywhere inappropriate.

"Are you ready to have your bony little arse kicked?" she asked with a wicked grin as she extended her arms and cracked her knuckles. "That tournament isn't going to win itself, you know."

From the evil lift of her left eyebrow, it was clear to Harry that his training this morning was going to be tough and he wondered for a moment just exactly what he'd gotten himself into when he accepted her offer of help.

He nodded quickly, even as nervous butterflies swarmed in his belly, and she was just about to turn to go up the stairs to the dueling room that Sirius had built for his workouts when the boy reached out for her arm to stop her.

Sirius had told him very firmly that he was to apologize first thing for scaring her a few days ago. He'd already done so with Remus yesterday and quietly endured the mild scolding he was given by his godfather, and Tonks deserved no less, no matter how mortified it would make him.

"Um..." he stammered, his face flushing an even darker red than it already was. "Before we start, I just wanted to...you know...tell you that I'm sorry for what happened at the flat," he choked out. "I know we worried you all terribly, and I really didn't mean to cause such a fuss."

Tonks tapped her fingers on the newel post thoughtfully as she assessed the slightly nervous boy's sincerity.

It was true that she had been more than a bit frightened to come back to an empty flat that morning. Probably more so than she would have imagined, to be honest. As an only child with no young nieces or nephews that she had contact with, it had been the first time she'd been entrusted with the care of children.

Well, not that Harry and Ron were particularly young children, but they weren't of age either, and she knew perfectly well that Sirius had been counting on her and Remus to keep watch over his beloved son just the same.

To have failed so utterly on her first outing as a caregiver stung more than a little.

As far as Harry's apology went, she might agree in theory that he needed to offer one as a matter of form, but, having done several stupid things as teenager herself that added to the gray hair her parents had, she really wasn't in any kind of position to roast the boy over the coals about it.

She folded her arms and pretended to think it over and let Harry squirm for a minute before responding.

"Can I assume that your father made sure you that you understood the error of your ways," she said sternly, barely suppressing a chuckle that would have undermined her scolding worlds.

"Yeah," Harry answered quickly, nodding. "He did."

For his part, Harry didn't feel it necessary to share that he'd been much harder on himself than Sirius had been.

"And are you sure that it won't happen again?" she continued a bit more sharply than she'd intended, narrowing her eyes at the uncomfortable boy. "Absolutely sure? Because I would hate to see my cousin, who's had enough grief in his life, be frightened like that again. You were very inconsiderate, young man."

Harry swallowed hard, a bit taken aback by the ferocity of her rebuke and the frown on her face that looked exactly like Mrs. Weasley did when she was displeased. Tonks acting so much like an actual reprimanding adult, and not the fun-loving, attractive young woman that he'd had more than one impure thought about, threw the boy for a bit of a loop.

So much so that he didn't even realize what he was saying until he opened his mouth to answer her.

"Yes, ma'am," he said very seriously, his cheeks flaming red. "I was very wrong, and I promise that I've learned my lesson."

Tonks' eyes widened in surprise. Both from the sudden sharpness of her scolding, which she really hadn't planned on saying quite like that, as well as Harry's contrite and exceptionally respectful response.

After all, she was still only a first year recruit out of the academy, which put her at the very bottom of the professional chain of command at the Auror office. So she was quite used to being the one getting the dressing down, not the one giving it.

Although, apparently her capability to deliver one was effective if it could cow a headstrong teenager, which clearly boded well for her future in law enforcement.

But it felt odd, really.

Because in her own mind she saw herself as a wild young thing, always up for a laugh or a night on the town, and not necessarily as a young woman whose path in life was moving decidedly closer to a point where she might start to consider adding the titles of wife and mum to her CV along with Auror.

And why shouldn't she?

It's what she had been thinking about lately anyway, wasn't it?

While it may have all happened rather quickly, she knew, as well as she knew how much she hated her first name, that she was already in love with Remus.

Over the years she'd dated lots of blokes, both during school and out of it. Handsome lads with pretty smiles, good humor and decent prospects for the future. They'd all been good for a laugh, but none of them had ever really caught her fancy for more than just a few dates.

So imagine her surprise when she got dragged to a family dinner at the grand estate of her long lost cousin and his somewhat bratty kid and was introduced to a werewolf, of all things. Even more surprising, that the werewolf was actually a soft spoken and handsome man, whose easy manner and obvious kindness and intelligence held her in rapt attention from the very first moment.

Beyond all reasonable comprehension, something in him spoke to her, like he was the missing part of her heart that she'd been looking for all her life. It didn't make sense really, on any level, but she couldn't help how she felt.

Besides which, she also trusted her instincts, and they told her that Remus shared her feelings, even if he was currently fighting hard against them.

Her one reservation of the whole business, despite the confident front she put forward, was worrying, not that he was too old for her, but that she might be too young for him.

But, the fact remained that Remus and Sirius were the same age, and here was Sirius' teenage son considering her someone who qualified as a ma'am.

Smiling triumphantly, which confused the contrite boy in front of her more than a little, she made a mental note to barge down to the little cottage at the edge of the estate and shake some sense into the infuriatingly stubborn man she had so helplessly fallen for, once Harry's lesson was over.

"Good," she said with a nod of satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear it. Even if it won't save you from the one hundred push-ups and sit ups you'll be starting with. Now, GO!"

She pointed up the stairs with intent, and Harry groaned as he turned to make his way back up.

Not wishing to anger the fiery witch any further, the boy double-timed it up to the third floor dueling room. His feelings were very conflicted now that the object of his interest had somehow morphed from a hot, desirable young woman into a scary combination of stern mum and relentless drill sergeant. It was all exceptionally confusing, and left him wondering if talking to his father about it perhaps might not necessarily be the worst idea after all.

Two hours later, Harry was flat on his back on the floor panting for breath and praying for Voldemort to just come and kill him already.

Tonks wasn't just being hard on him, she was downright brutal.

He wasn't in bad shape physically, so the first drills of push-ups and sit-ups hadn't been all that hard to do, and it gave him a cocky sense of capability that she quickly disabused him of. For the rest of the training session, he was relentlessly pursued around the large room as he dodged spell after spell without being allowed to cast any offensive spells of his own.

It was Tonks' opinion that he badly needed to learn how to survive without a wand if necessary. She knew from Sirius that he'd been teaching Harry wandless and wordless magic a little at a time, but it was a painfully slow process despite Harry's natural aptitude for DADA. The first thing every Auror learned was that you had to know how to duck and dodge like your life depended on it if you were rendered wandless or voiceless, which it very well could.

Already disgusted with the Tournament as it was, Sirius had been fuming ever since learning about the maze for the Third Task, with Remus needing to talk him out of apparating to Hogwarts to burn the damn thing down more than once. Since they had no idea what would be waiting for Harry in the maze, he needed to be prepared for any situation.

In contrast to the exhausted boy who now had several angry red welts on his skin from stinging hexes he hadn't managed to avoid and was mightily attempting to stifle the occasional unmanly whimper that threatened to escape his throat, Tonks was leaning against the wall of the dueling room casually twirling her wand in her hand.

Cool as a cucumber, having never even broken a sweat, she grinned at the boy's exaggerated misery.

An Auror could cast rapid fire spells, so Harry had been hit a dozen or so times, but not with anything that was too damaging. She'd thrown everything she could at him without using the really dangerous hexes, and the boy had done very well, despite his current opinion to the contrary. It was clear to her that Sirius was doing an exceptional job so far of preparing his son for the unexpected.

"That's it for today, Harry," she called over to him, hearing a quiet moan of Thank Merlin in return. "Scrape yourself up off the floor and grab hot shower. You'll feel better."

Sore all over, Harry grunted as he pushed himself up to stand and he idly wondered how he could have ever had a crush on Tonks, considering that she was obviously a straight up sadist.

"Oi!"

Harry turned just in time to catch a small jar that Tonks tossed at him before it hit him in the back of the head and he silently blessed his honed seeker reflexes for saving him from even more pain.

"That's a healing salve of Murtlap essence and Dittany," she explained, walking over to him. "After your shower, rub that on the welts and it'll take the sting away. Trust me. You'll be right as rain in no time."

"Thanks," the boy said wearily as he slowly rolled his shoulders to ease some of the stiffness. "I'm supposed to go over to the Weasley's to play some Quidditch when we're done here, and it would be helpful to have the full use of my body."

He glared at her pointedly and she snickered at the face he made. Like a beagle pup that was trying hard to look fierce and failing miserably.

"You'll live," she promised him with a laugh. "What I did to you was a breeze compared to what a first year trainee at the Academy has to go through."

Harry winced and reconsidered his plan of becoming an Auror if this was just the beginning. As much as he wanted to follow in the footsteps of both of his fathers, he wasn't exactly looking forward to the training it would require if his workout today was considered mild.

"No thanks," he grumbled, a bit annoyed by her cheerfulness over his crushing defeat. "I'm going to get my arse kicked on the pitch this afternoon as it is. It's going to be bloody near impossible to steer my broom if I can't make my arms work right."

He stopped in his tracks to throw a horrified look at her.

"Please don't tell my father that I swore in front of you," he begged nervously. "I'll be eating soap bubbles for a week if he finds out."

Tonks laughed again and nodded. "No worries, Harry. What happens in the training room, stays in the training room. Besides, I've always had a mouth like a sailor too, no matter how much my mum got on me about it, so I'm not offended."

"Thanks," the boy said gratefully, breathing out a sigh of relief. "He's got this stupid thing about profanity. It's annoying, really. My aunt and uncle never cared. Probably because my cousin Dudley swore all the time in front of them, and they didn't like scolding him so they never paid attention when I said something."

"It's the pure-blood inside of Sirius," Tonks replied with a knowing nod. "They're all like that. Sirius might fight against his upbringing, but it's more a part of him than he's willing to admit."

Remembering how proper Sirius had looked in his official robes that morning, Harry hummed thoughtfully as he began moving towards the door again, slowly so as to not irritate his injuries too badly. Inwardly, he was hoping that he had the strength to make it to his room with as little fuss as possible so he didn't look really pathetic in her eyes.

"Do you ever miss them?" Tonks asked curiously as she walked next to him. "Your aunt or your cousin? You did grow up with them."

"No," Harry answered firmly, his green eyes flashing angrily. "Never."

His abrupt response stopped her short with the vehemence behind the words. She hadn't been told the whole story of Harry's relationship with his relatives. Only that they didn't get along. Clearly, the animosity was something much more intense than she'd been led to believe.

"Sorry, Harry," she began sincerely. "I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

Harry looked over at her and saw that she was truly apologetic so he felt a bit bad for biting her head off. Tonks had no real way of knowing that talking about his relatives was the quickest way to get him riled up. Still, she was part of his new family, one that he liked a lot more, so maybe she deserved to have a little understanding of his disdain for the people that raised him.

He bit on his lower lip for a few seconds, deciding on just how blunt he should be without totally humiliating himself.

"You know how you dislike being called Nymphadora?" he asked, his eyes averted to hide his discomfort. "Well, I was five years old before I knew that my name was Harry. Until then, I'd only been called Boy."

Tonks froze where she stood, her mouth dropped open in horror as Harry finally turned to look at her again.

"They had to tell me eventually, you see," he explained with a humorless smile on his face. "I was starting school, so it would have looked weird if I didn't answer to my name when the teacher called on me. My relatives hate me, Tonks, and everything about me."

Harry's casual little information drop rendered the normally talkative young woman entirely speechless. She'd seen some terrible things in her line of work, but to hear of something so mean done to her young, orphaned cousin made a tear slip from her eye. Seeing her obvious upset on his behalf, Harry merely shrugged and turned away again.

"So, No," he bit out harshly. "I don't miss them."

There were a lot of little details falling into place in her mind at the moment.

To be perfectly honest, Tonks hadn't had such a good opinion of Harry so far, even if she'd been making an effort to get along with him.

Although they'd only been acquainted for a short time, the boy had acted fairly rude and spoiled in her presence more than once. She hadn't known what to make of it really, especially when her mother, a stickler for etiquette and behavior if there ever was one, insisted on excusing him and even asked Nymphadora to cut him some slack as well.

Frankly, the young Auror was more of a mind that Harry's public popularity as the Boy Who Lived had given him a fat head of self importance and entitlement.

After first meeting him at that disastrous dinner at her parents' house, she'd remarked to her stunned mother, once Sirius had taken his leave, that she hoped that her cousin was heading straight home to give his bratty son a good, sound smacking for his rudeness.

At the time, her mother hadn't disagreed with her, but as the weeks passed and the day of Harry's adoption drew nearer, Andromeda had drastically changed her tune and hinted more than once that Harry was justified in his attitude that night. Something that had surprised her daughter, who couldn't possibly imagine why.

Curious, she'd taken it upon herself to spend some of her free time over at the chateau, determined to figure it all out for herself.

Occasionally she had the excuse of playing messenger for her mother, who was regularly updating Sirius on the goings-on at Hogwarts. Which was another surprise to the young woman, as Andromeda had been never been independently employed since marrying. Like most wealthy women, she devoted her days to social engagements and charitable endeavors.

But Sirius had asked her to replace him as Astronomy professor and, quite inexplicably to her daughter, Andromeda agreed.

Spending time with Sirius and Harry at Celestial Court had offered Tonks another view of her cousins. Clearly, Sirius doted on his son, and Harry was given large amounts of indulgence and affection from his adoptive father. But, to her surprise, Sirius was also often strict with Harry, and the boy was firmly reprimanded on the few occasions he stepped out of line.

Over the past few weeks, despite her initial assessment of her new cousin, she started to think that maybe Harry really wasn't any more cheeky than the normal teenager.

More often than not, he was exceptionally polite and shy around her when she stopped in to visit.

He clearly adored his father, basking in the attention that Sirius lavished on him. Harry worked hard on his studies, was respectful to the adults at the chateau who taught his classes, and generally obeyed his father without question.

A stern word or a sharp look from Sirius would leave his son absolutely crestfallen, which had only made the resurgence of Harry's petulant behavior at the flat the other day even more strange. Obviously, there was still a lot she needed to learn about her young cousin and his past.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said softly as she placed a warm hand on his arm. "Really, I am. Of course you wouldn't miss people who did something so awful."

"It doesn't matter," he answered, shaking his head slightly. "They don't matter anymore. Sirius has made up for them a million times over."

He looked so sad over it all that she wished there was something she could do to take the pain out of his suspiciously bright green eyes.

"You know," she began, giving him a gentle nudge so as not to irritate his injuries, "I've got some pretty spectacularly bad relatives myself. How about you and I make a pact to be the good cousins to each other that we never had, yeah?"

Harry looked up and smiled at her and nodded. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"Good," she agreed with a large smile. "Because you're an alright kid, and a more than decent fighter. I'd have your wand by my side any day."

"Thanks," Harry replied shyly, his face blushing. "And thanks for your help today, even if my body hates you right now."

Tonks laughed as she twirled her wand menacingly at him. She was glad to see that he wasn't dwelling on his upset too badly.

"Anytime," she said with a nod. "Nobody's going to mess about with my little cousin and get away with it, if I have anything to say about it."

Harry smiled again and ducked his head away as he began the slow arduous trek down the stairs to the second floor family wing.

"I better get a move on before the Weasleys come looking for me. Charlie's going to wipe the sky with me if I don't bring my best game, and I'd rather not give him the satisfaction."

"Charlie Weasley?" Tonks asked in surprise, pulling him to a stop by grabbing his arm just a little too tightly. "Is Charlie home? He's almost never in Britain anymore."

"First," Harry growled, giving her a fierce glare as he gingerly pulled away from her grip, "Ow. Second, yes, Charlie is home until next week. His partner got injured and dragon handlers aren't allowed to work alone, so he got some unexpected time off."

Tonks winced guiltily as Harry gently rubbed his sore arm. "Sorry about that. I just got a little excited."

"It's fine," the boy assured her, even though he was still scowling. "It already felt like it was going to fall off. Might as well just get it over with. So I take it you know Charlie?"

His cousin rolled her eyes over his theatrics as he dramatically descended the last few steps onto the balcony that looked over the grand entryway and turned right.

"Sure," she said with a nod, ignoring Harry's raised eyebrow when she started to accompany him towards the family wing. "He was in my year at school. He's a great lad, Charlie. We got into all sorts of trouble together. I missed his visit last summer when he came for the World Cup."

"Why don't you come with me and say hello?" Harry suggested with a shrug that he immediately regretted when a bolt of pain shot through him. He winced. "Mrs. Weasley won't mind. The more people at the Burrow, the happier she is."

Tonks hummed as she thought about it. She'd finally decided on shaking some sense into Remus this afternoon, but it wasn't anything that couldn't wait for tomorrow. Maybe she'd even talk to Charlie about it. They'd always been each other's agony aunts when it came to relationships, since they'd never fancied each other that way.

"I might do," Tonks decided with a large smile. "You really don't mind me tagging along with you?"

"I don't mind," Harry assured her, stopping in front of his bedroom door. "In fact, it'll be helpful to have you around to blame when my flying is rubbish."

He looked at her pointedly and she laughed and wagged her eyebrows at him.

"I'll wait for you in the front parlor then," she said happily. "Are you sure you don't need a hand getting inside? You look like you got run over by a herd of hippogriffs."

Or one sadistic Auror the boy thought to himself irritably.

"I'm fine," Harry grumbled, his teeth clenched as he pushed his bedroom door open. "I'll be down in a bit."

Tonks smirked, congratulating herself for a job well done as she watched the boy stubbornly limp inside.

"Just use the salve," she called out behind her as she started to walk away. "It works a treat, I swear."

Harry leaned heavily on his door as he threw a very impolite hand gesture at his laughing cousin's back that would have definitely gotten his bum at least a couple of smacks if his father had seen him do it. Tonks couldn't see it either, as she was already skipping down the stairs, but it made him feel just a little bit better in his current misery to express his unhappiness with her.

He really did feel like he'd been trampled by a herd of hippogriffs.

Truthfully, if he hadn't been looking forward to flying against the older Weasley brother so much, he'd just collapse into his own bed until he felt a little less like dying.

He slowly walked across his room towards the bathroom, undressing as he went as carefully as possible and littering the floor with his clothes that he'd just have to pick up later, since he couldn't imagine bending right now. He had to hand it to Tonks. The woman knew what she was about when it came to dueling.

Although he really didn't have time for it since he already had an early curfew to be home, Harry decided that he wanted a bath instead of a shower. The thought of thousands of droplets pelting his skin didn't sound all that appealing at the moment, so he turned the taps on the large tub in his bathroom and started to fill it with warm water.

For a moment he debated on what bubbles to use, then decided on the spout that shot out the large clouds of puffy white foam. They would line the bottom of the tub and create a soft pillow for him to relax on while the water soothed his injuries.

As the tub filled, he glanced at himself in the large mirror to assess just how badly he was hurt and he groaned. His arms, legs and shoulders were all marked up with vivid red weals, and the number of them just made him even more annoyed, since every one was a hex that he hadn't managed to dodge.

His past adventures had put him in Hogwarts' hospital wing more than once, and his overall penchant for trouble regularly landed him over his father's knee, so it was already fairly firmly established that Harry had a high pain threshold.

But even getting walloped with Sirius' belt, which had been awful and something he never wanted to experience again, hadn't hurt this much, and he realized that Tonks was right when she told him that he had to learn to fight injured if he wanted to survive.

The Third Task was than two months away and he had no idea what he'd face in the maze. Tonks put him through some pretty aggressive paces today, but she wasn't actively looking to grievously harm him. Harry knew that if he didn't practice more and do better the next time they dueled, there was no telling what would happen when he met an opponent who wasn't so generous.

With that disturbing thought, Harry let out a deep sigh as he turned off the taps and eased himself gently into the very full tub. The cloud bubbles bobbed just under the surface and made a perfectly soft nest for him to sit in as the warm water began to soothe his swollen skin. He sighed again, this time in contentment, as he closed his eyes and let himself drift off for a few minutes.

Nymphadora felt good as she skipped down the stairs, just barely catching herself on the railing as she stumbled near the bottom. Although a skilled fighter, she was still somewhat clumsy at times, and she'd never be the most graceful of witches, that was for sure. It had been decidedly unhelpful when it came to her stealth training, and she'd only managed to pass the course by the skin of her teeth.

Harry would probably take half an hour or so, she estimated, knowing from personal experience how arduous the recovery process would be, so she flopped down on a sofa in the parlor and picked up an outdated copy of Witch Weekly from the coffee table to read to help pass the time. Flipping through the pages, the thought occurred to her that it must be Hermione's presence in the manor that was responsible for a witch's magazine being read in a mostly wizard occupied household, and she made a mental note to make more of an effort to get to know the girl better, as she was clearly outnumbered here.

As the minutes slowly ticked by, she ignored the little voice in her head that was calling her a coward for altering her plans to confront Remus in favor of a visit to her old school chum. She would do it, but maybe when she didn't look quite so...sporty. Perhaps Remus would enjoy seeing her in something softer, like that pretty little lavender dress she'd just bought from the new shop around the corner from her flat.

Nodding to herself, she was just about to start filling out the answers to a quiz titled 'Knowing Your Wizard. Is He Charming or a Curse?' when she was somewhat surprised to hear a voice calling out from the entry way.

"Harry! Are you in here?"

Tonks inhaled a sharp breath as she flung the magazine away from her. The very voice she'd been longing to hear was now echoing around the first floor of the manor as Remus checked the dining room and then the school room.

"Harry?" Remus called out again, his voice, now amplified by a mild sonorous charm, getting a touch more concerned. "Sirius asked me to stop by and check on you! Answer if you can hear me, please."

A door banged open upstairs and Harry's disgruntled voice echoed down.

"Yeah, I'm just out of the bath. I'll be down in a minute."

The door slammed shut again and Tonks bit her lip and tapped her foot in agitation as she tried to come up with something clever to say to Remus that didn't make her sound like an infatuated schoolgirl. She stood, prepared to apparate away before being discovered, when suddenly Remus stepped into the room.

"Dora? I didn't know you were here."

He looked shocked, but not unpleasantly so, his eyes drinking in the sight of her as a gentle smile tugged up at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't help the way she stood up and gravitated towards him, her arms aching to reach out.

"Hello, Remus," she said softly. "You're looking well."

And he was, considering she knew how recently the full moon had shone. She hated the fact that this kindhearted man suffered so cruelly for several days each month.

"So are you," he answered quietly, jamming his nervous hands in the pockets of his tweed trousers. "That's some outfit you have on today."

Tonks looked down at her attire, her cheeks blushing pink. She'd worn it for the ease of movement, but it was rather formfitting.

"I've been training with Harry," she said with a shrug. "Sirius wanted him doing defensive drills today. It's a lot of running."

"Really?" Remus said, cocking his head to the side like a confused puppy. "Funny. Sirius didn't mention anything about that to me when he stopped in last night."

The two of them looked at each other, both knowing that they'd obviously been set up to meet. Remus sighed audibly and made a mental note to strangle his oldest friend first chance he got.

An awkward moment passed between them, each struggling with what to say to the other, until finally Nymphadora huffed, grabbed Remus by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him in for an enormous kiss.

Her passion and insistence left Remus a bit flustered, his amber eyes blinking rapidly as his hands waggled about in the air while he tried to decide whether to push her away or tug her closer to his chest. But before he could do anything other than stand there like a complete idiot, the young woman broke away and took a step back.

"Dora..." he began, clearing his throat as his face blushed pink.

"No!" she said firmly, holding her hand up to shut down any stupid remark he might make that would have her itching to hex him. "This is ridiculous, Remus. I like you, and you like me, and that's all we need to know for now. The rest we'll figure out as we go along, but what we won't do is pretend that having something with each other is impossible."

"Dora," he tried again, his voice soft and sad before she reached up and put her hand over his mouth.

"Enough, Remus."

Her eyes were flashing annoyance as she crossed her arms and looked at him matter-of-fact. She'd always prided herself on being a woman of action, and since it was clear that Remus wasn't going to take the lead in whatever this was between them, then by Merlin she'd just do it herself.

"I like Italian food," she said firmly, "and there's an excellent little place just a street over from my flat that does a nice chicken parm and has quiet, cozy tables where we can start to get acquainted properly. So you are going to pull the enormous stick out of that sexy little bum of yours and pick me up tonight at eight o'clock sharp. Are we clear?"

For a few seconds Remus just stood there and gaped at her, but then a grin spread across his face and he nodded.

"Perfectly."

A small part of Nymphadora had been sure that she'd be rebuffed again, which would finish breaking her already fragile ego when it came to Remus. So she was more than a bit relieved that her gamble had paid off. Returning his grin, she welcomed his arms when he leaned forward and initiated a kiss of his own. More tender than she had been with him, but just as passionate, and it made her whole body tingle.

"I'm ready..."

Harry's voice preceded his entry into the parlor only by a split second, so they didn't have enough time to draw apart before the boy saw them. With a start, the two giddy lovers broke free, but although they were a tad embarrassed, they were both smiling as they looked over at the decidedly uncomfortable teen.

"We should get going," Harry said, moving quickly towards the floo and trying mightily to pretend that he didn't just catch them snogging.

"Going?" Remus asked, his brow furrowed as he glanced from one of them to the other. "Going where, exactly?"

"Harry's been invited to the Weasleys for the afternoon," Dora said as she gathered her things, "and I'm going to go with him, just to pop my head in and say hello for a few minutes."

Remus cocked an eyebrow as he looked over at Harry who was standing impatiently next to the fireplace with the jar of floo powder in his hands. "Did you ask your father if this was okay? He didn't say anything about it when he asked me to stop in."

"Yes," Harry answered a bit snappishly. "We talked about it this morning before he left. It's fine."

Harry's tone was a little more rude than Remus normally would have let go unchecked. But if Ron was telling the truth about Harry having a crush on Dora, it couldn't have been easy for him to walk in and see the two of them kissing.

Again.

So he held his tongue.

"And what time are you expected back?" he asked instead, causing Harry to huff in annoyance.

"Four o'clock. And the longer I'm kept here, the less time I get to spend there," the boy answered irritably. "So may I leave, please?"

Dora could see that Remus' patience was thinning, and before he was tempted to scold Harry and possibly make him stay home, she patted his arm gently and shook her head.

No one needed another row to break out between him and his godson unnecessarily. Sirius would certainly hear about it, be forced to reprimand his son, and the current gulf between Harry and Remus, that she appeared to be an unwilling cause of, would grow even wider.

She walked over to stand next to Harry, narrowing her eyes at him for his cheek and then took a handful of the bright green powder.

"We're leaving," she assured the boy before winking at Remus. "See you tonight, Wolfie."

Two bright green bursts of flame later, they were gone

As Remus stood alone in the sitting room, the scent of the jasmine perfume that Dora wore was still wafting pleasantly in the air around him. Despite the little rough patch he and Harry seemed to be going through at the moment, he smiled.

It had been a really long time since he had a date with a pretty girl.

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

The best perk of having a family seat in the Wizengamot was the access to a small, private dining room down the corridor from the assembly chamber.

The elected members had their own dining room too, of course, but the more intimate setting that the hereditary members enjoyed was far better for holding sensitive conversations that were not privy to every eavesdropping gossip looking to wheel and deal between sessions.

Even in his already rarefied company, the Black family name was still the oldest, which meant it held the greatest deal of sway among a group of wizards who valued both tradition and position, so Sirius found himself being escorted to the dining room's prime table perched up on a dais. High enough to be seen by the others, but still far enough away so that whatever conversations he might choose to hold with those lucky enough to be invited to join him remained absolutely confidential.

It was the power position, plain and simple, and one that Lucius Malfoy was bitterly missing at the moment, now that he was cast out of the inner circle.

Sirius graciously nodded a thanks to the hostess as he took his seat, along with Gray and Archie, and ordered a bottle of the house's best elf-made wine. Excessive drinking was frowned on at lunch when in session, but a few glasses of something nice to lubricate negotiations with other members was always acceptable. A moment later, a bottle popped onto their table and began pouring itself into three glasses.

"To old friends," Gray toasted, raising his glass to the others.

Archie raised his own glass. "And to absent ones."

All three men took a moment to remember all those who had been lost in the war.

Most especially James Potter.

Sirius swallowed hard and raised his glass and nodded at the others before taking a sip.

He wasn't going to pretend that it wasn't hard being in the company of two men he'd known for so many years. Just being around them brought back so many memories of happier times, which only made the bad ones even harder to bear. There was another reason he preferred to keep himself well away from society besides his son's safety.

After the toast, they all took a glance at the menu in front of them and then ordered out loud. In barely a blink, full plates of food appeared at each of their places.

Archie took another sip of his wine before clearing his throat uncomfortably. He cast a quick glance at the equally nervous Gray before speaking.

"Sirius," he began, "there are no words that will adequately express how truly sorry we are about..."

Holding up his hand to stop what was obviously going to be an apology for believing his guilt all these years, Sirius just shook his head.

There were times when he wanted the entire world to feel awful for believing something so terrible of him, despite knowing how hard he'd always worked to distance himself from his family's darkness. A part of him would never be truly healed from the injustices he suffered and, occasionally, it threatened to choke the life right out of him in his grief.

But as he became more and more focused on his role as a father and his obligation to put Harry's needs first, it was just simply easier to let the past stay there.

He wasn't someone to be pitied.

He was a survivor, and it was more important to him that he be seen first and foremost now as a person who'd been tough enough to make it through Hell itself and come out clean on the other side.

Sirius had always had a dangerous reputation, even as a very young man, and it had only tripled in fierceness over the past year with the news of his daring escape and vindication, followed by several re-tellings in the Daily Prophet of all his bravery as an Auror. Even the brutal fight with Bagman had only served to add to it.

And he didn't mind the notoriety, because it would certainly help Harry's situation if the ones targeting him thought twice about it because they feared all the horrible things his adoptive father would do to them if they dared to lay a hand on Sirius' boy.

"Let's just leave it alone," he said firmly, waving away another protest that Gray looked like he was going to offer. "It's all done and dusted, and I'd rather talk about the future, if that's alright with you both."

"Fair enough," Archie said after a moment, not wanting to push. "So how is Harry doing? You know, he broke half the hearts at Hogwarts when you withdrew him."

"He'll be surprised to hear that," Sirius said with a genuine chuckle. "Unlike James, Harry doesn't have an ounce of conceit in his body. His popularity continually surprises him."

Archie laughed. "Oh he's popular, alright. Lavender was devastated when he left, although my wife thinks it had more to do with the young Weasley lad joining him."

"Who would have thought that James Potter would have a shy son," Gray said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Jamie always had confidence enough for ten wizards."

Sirius smiled sadly as he thought about his lost brother. "That he did. But Harry is confident where really it counts. He's a sweet boy, but he's also immensely brave. Every bit the fighter that James was, and more."

"But he didn't actually put his name in the Goblet, did he," Archie said quietly with a knowing look. "Someone forced him into that Tournament."

Archie's observation was surprising, but not unwelcome. Too many people still thought that Harry had somehow wrangled his participation as a champion, whether by his own devices or with Sirius' assistance. So it would certainly help the conversation along if Sirius didn't need to convince the other men that there were nefarious plans afoot at the school.

In answer, he nodded his head just once, sending a shiver through the other men. The implication of what that could mean reminded them about what times had been like during the war. The fear and the uncertainty. Always looking behind you, just in case.

If someone could get to Harry Potter at Hogwarts, where Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard of their time, kept watch, it meant that no one was entirely safe.

"Then it's no wonder you withdrew him," Gray agreed, his mind trouble with thoughts over his own Hannah's well being. "Is that why you decided to take up your seat?"

"A large part of it, yes," Sirius confirmed as he took a sip of his wine. "Hogwarts isn't the bastion of safety that parents are led to believe, and it's time for a few changes there. And having recently been a professor there, I've come to the conclusion that the curriculum is also horribly outdated."

"But surely taking your seat on the Board of Governors would be more helpful?" Archie asked in surprise. "After all, the Board members are the ones who make school policy."

"And I will do," Sirius nodded, "at the next meeting. However, I'm also very concerned that most of the Board members are in Dumbledore's pocket, and what I plan to propose won't see the light of day unless I propose it here in the Wizengamot first. The Board of Governors may dictate day-to-day policy at Hogwarts, but it's still a Ministry funded school, which ultimately puts say over what really happens there right here on the Assembly floor."

Gray and Archie looked at each other and then at Sirius.

A show of no confidence in Dumbledore was certainly not what they expected from Sirius, who'd always given the impression that he had the highest respect for their headmaster. Ministry intervention in Hogwarts affairs could get sticky, especially since Dumbledore would be forced to recuse himself as Chief Warlock in any policy discussions due to his position as Headmaster.

"When you say that Hogwarts isn't safe," Archie hedged carefully, "exactly what are you talking about? Because our girls are still going there, and if you know something about them being in danger, you really need to speak up."

Sirius took a bite of his excellent grilled salmon as he carefully considered his response. Archie wasn't wrong, but Sirius didn't want to cause mass hysteria either by sharing every detail of what he suspected.

"Look, lads," he answer calmly. "I'm not trying to imply that there's any immediate danger towards your daughters. Remember, I trained as an Auror under Alastor Moody, which makes me a little more hyper-vigilant than most. I also spent twelve years in Azakaban under the Dementors' guard, so it's possible that I might be just a bit mental as well."

He chuckled softy to ease the tension a little with the barb at himself. This conversation needed to be handled very gently if he didn't want the other two men to jump up from the table and form a mob to march on Hogwarts.

"And then there's the little fact that I'm also a first time father to the most famous teenager in Magical Britain," he continued. "So my circumstances, and Harry's, are rather unique, wouldn't you agree?"

They did. Neither one of them would want to trade shoes with Sirius, or have their daughters live with the trauma and celebrity that Harry faced every day.

"But I do have concerns," Sirius continued soberly. "Both for the overall safety of the children there, and for the quality of their education."

"To be fair, Sirius," Gray argued, "we're wizards. Our schooling has always involved a certain degree of risk. Learning to control our magic can be dangerous at times and we see impossible things happen every day. It's not like we're Muggles. But, keep in mind, that during the height of the war, our families were happy to send us to Hogwarts for most of the year because it was the one place where they could be sure that we wouldn't be killed in our own beds if they opposed You-Know-Who."

Sirius put up a hand in protest, even as he nodded in agreement.

"True. But that was a different time. And I'm not talking about a spell or a hex gone sideways, or even a poorly brewed potion exploding. I'm talking about widespread disregard for basic safety protocols and an intentionally heightened level of peril at a place where our world's next generation is growing up."

Both of the other men were now frowning deeply. If there was something going on at Hogwarts that was truly a hazard to their children, it would need to be addressed immediately. Possibly before the kids were allowed to return from the Easter holiday.

"Then I'm afraid you're going to need to clarify things for us, old man," Archie said, shaking his head. "Because if the situation is as bad as you say, then my Lavender isn't getting on that bloody train in a few days."

"Nor Hannah," Gray added firmly.

So Sirius did.

Their delicious lunch was all but abandoned as he began to enlighten them on everything that had been happening since their children started at Hogwarts.

He began reminding them about the Mountain Troll that almost killed three first years when the staff failed to track it down. The Cerebrus that had been used as a guard and still resided at the school...somewhere. Then the chilling tale of Quirell's possession by Voldemort's wraith, which made Gray order another bottle of wine.

Sirius continued with the Acromantula nest in the Forest, situated far too close to school grounds, that would cheerfully eat a student if given the chance. The Chamber of Secrets, and the monstrous Basilisk roaming through the pipes, petrifying anyone in its path and only stopped from actually killing students by sheer dumb luck and Harry's brave act.

The lax security that allowed an escaped murderer to wander about the grounds freely for a full year entirely unimpeded, even with the Dementor's keeping guard. Guards who also would not have hesitated to suck out a child's soul if they were caught too close.

By this point, the other men had become exceptionally pale, but Sirius didn't stop there.

He went on to describe, in great detail, how he and little Gabrielle Delacour had been abducted from their rooms and used as bait in the Second Task without their consent. And how, even now, their children were being taught DADA by someone regularly drinking Polyjuice Potion, and who could literally be anyone without them knowing the difference.

Accidents had always happened at Hogwarts. Magic was a dangerous business at times, and parents expected a certain level of risk to their children that was mitigated by the experience and talents of the teachers and the confidence in them to prevent lasting damage.

What they were being told right now was way out of the scope of normal acceptance.

And by the time Sirius was done, Gray and Archie had gone from pale white with fear to crimson red with rage.

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

Harry was hot and sweaty by the time he touched ground in the orchard behind the Burrow.

The weather was absolutely glorious. Perfect for the pick-up games of Quidditch he was playing with the Weasleys. As well as with Lee Jordan, who was bunking with the twins for a few days, and also Tonks, who completely forgot that she was just going to stay a few minutes and had wound up spending the whole afternoon there.

Although he should have expected it, seeing as how she was good at just about everything else, Harry couldn't help but be impressed by Tonks' skill on a broom. Not only did she out-fly the twins, but she was deadly with a beater's bat as well.

Which should really not have been such a surprise to Harry after the two hour long torture session he'd just endured.

Charlie Weasley was an exceptionally talented seeker, who most likely could have gone pro if he didn't have such an affinity for working with dragons. All afternoon he'd been giving Harry more than a run for his money as they spent the hours doggedly chasing each other around the orchard looking for the snitch, despite Harry having both the leaner athletic form as well as the superior broom.

Harry had never had so much fun.

"Not bad, old man!" Tonks called out as she soared above Charlie, who had just landed on the ground in a similar state to Harry. "Looks like you haven't lost your touch in your advancing years."

Charlie smiled wickedly at his old friend as he quickly straddled his broom again. "We're the same age, Nymphadora! Let's see which of us is old."

He shot back into the sky, rapidly trailing Tonks who was laughing gleefully as she tore off into the distance while taunting her old schoolmate with an obscene finger gesture. Harry, Ron and Ginny watched them go, chuckling amongst themselves over just how rapidly the two twenty-three year olds could revert to childish behavior.

"Charlie better not let Mum see him messing about with Tonks like that," Ron said with snort. "She'll just start up again about how perfect she is for him."

Harry frowned at his friend as his stomach did that weird little flip thing again.

"Your Mum wants Charlie and Tonks together? Really?"

Now it was Ginny's turn to snicker. "Are you kidding? It's all she talks about every time Charlie comes home. She's been trying to get them together since their fourth year at Hogwarts. It's quite maddening really. Charlie's told her a million times that the two of them are just friends."

"Yeah," Ron laughed. "Because he's too much of a coward to tell Mum that he's got a girl in Romania. Mum'll go spare if she thinks there's a chance he won't move back to Britain in the next year or two."

Harry looked up at where Tonks and Charlie were still trading good-natured barbs in the air. In response to something she said, he took off straight up into the sky, so high he was just a tiny pinprick among the clouds, before doing a complete one-eighty and hurtling back down, fast enough that he was almost too much of a blur for even Harry's seeker eyes to see.

With just inches to spare before he slammed into the ground , Charlie leveled off with a kind of funky spin maneuver, barely brushing the tips of the grass along the length of the orchard, before before twirling his broom all the way back up to where Tonks sat waiting for him, just shaking her head in amusement.

It was an incredibly risky move. One that, if Harry even thought about trying, his father would toss his Firebolt Supreme directly into the fireplace and ground him for life. He had doubts that even Krum would be brave enough to try it, and he couldn't help the gobsmacked look of adoration he cast up at Charlie when he threw Harry a jaunty little wave.

Duly impressed, as any adrenaline loving teenage boy would be, Harry was sure that Charlie Weasley was just about the coolest person on the planet.

While he stood starstruck, Tonks glanced at her watch and frowned.

"Oi, Harry!" she called down, holding her wrist high. "It's five to four! Don't you need to get going?"

"Bugger!" Harry swore as he checked his own watch. He'd been having so much fun he forgot the time. "I've got to go. Sirius will murder me if I'm late."

Ron frowned. Not that it wasn't lovely having his siblings home but, with all of them there, things had quickly gone back to the way they were when he was more or less the forgotten child. It had been great having his best mate over for the day.

"Fair warning," he said to Harry as they walked towards the Burrow together. "Mum's got, like, a million tarts for you to take home. Something about how your house elves don't feed you enough, or something."

Rolling his eyes, Harry just shook his head in amusement. Mrs. Weasley was never going to change.

"Bye Harry!" one of the twins, George, Harry thought, called after him.

"See you all tomorrow at the match!" he called back with a happy wave.

It really had been a wonderful afternoon.

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

By the time Harry managed to make his escape from the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley, whose prolific culinary skills had shifted into maximum overdrive because of her immense joy at having so many of her children home, had weighed him down with an enormous pile of baked goods to bring back to the chateau.

Despite knowing that the Celestial Court house-elves cooked and baked around the clock for their wizards, Molly's maternal instincts simply weren't satisfied if she didn't feel like she'd provided for Harry's nutritional needs in some way.

There was absolutely no possible chance that Harry and Sirius were going to be able to polish off the five tarts, (three treacle and two apple) and the two dozen mince pies all on their own, but Molly refused to listen to any of Harry's protests to the contrary as she kept filling his arms.

Unfortunately for him, her long winded insistence meant that he was running several minutes behind on his departure, and by the time he stumbled through the floo into the chateau's front parlor, the grandfather clock in the entry hall was chiming half past four. Harry cursed to himself, knowing that he was horribly late, and crossed his fingers and hoped that his father was still stuck at the Wizengamot.

A quick check of Sirius' office on the way to the kitchen to drop off his bundles showed that it was empty and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He wouldn't lie to his father if directly asked what time he'd arrived back from the Burrow, but he wasn't going to volunteer the information either. Sirius had just started to allow him to leave the house, and Harry wasn't exactly in a hurry to have his restrictions put back in place just because Mrs. Weasley couldn't take no for an answer.

The Celestial Court kitchen was located all the way at the back of the large manor. It was an enormous space, fit for feeding and serving an army, but still somehow a warm and homey room that always smelled like freshly baked bread. The house-elves prided themselves on being quick to satisfy any need their resident wizards had, so Harry rarely had a chance to visit the kitchen himself. But when he did, he was given a most enthusiastic welcome.

After so many years of the chateau being vacant, the house-elves were tickled pink to have a family to care for again, and they were exceptionally fond of their young master.

When he walked in, the kitchen was abuzz with elf energy bustling about, with the head kitchen elf, Tipsy, fussing over the shape of the dinner rolls that Lolly was preparing for dinner, while two more junior elves, Wilmy and Feeny were magically chopping up ingredients for a salad and a beef and mushroom pie. The whole place smelled heavenly, and even though Harry had been fed to bursting all day by Mrs. Weasley, his stomach rumbled in happy anticipation.

"Master Harry!" Tipsy cried out in excitement, a wide smile showing off all of her tiny pointed tteth. "What can we do for you, sir?"

"I'm just dropping these off," Harry answered as he carefully put down the mound of tarts and pies onto a pristine counter off to the side. "Mrs. Weasley sent them home with me."

The sight of the baked goods immediately dampened Tipsy's good mood as she frowned, her large ears drooping sadly. Harry quickly moved over to her to put a comforting hand on the old elf's slumped shoulders.

"Now, you know that Papa and I think you are all doing a brilliant job taking care of us," he reminded her gently. "This isn't a reflection on your work. Mrs. Weasley just sometimes forgets that I don't live in a Muggle house anymore. She doesn't mean any offense by it."

Tipsy was only slightly mollified by his words. There had been more than one instance of the kitchen house elves being insulted by the red haired witch's insistence on doing their work.

"Tipsy has made an Apple Charlotte for pudding today," she said, just a tad defensively as she glared at the pile of sweets. "Master Sirius' favorite."

"And we're both going to be excited to eat it," Harry assured her. "I can't wait."

Feeling a bit better by that, Tipsy's ears perked up slightly as she snapped her fingers and banished Molly's treats to wherever the food was kept between meals. Harry shook his head fondly at her, knowing how territorial house elves could be.

"Would Master Harry like a snack?" Wilmy asked, holding up a plate with two warm Cornish Pasties on it.

"No, thank you," Harry answered politely. He really was still quite full. "I'll wait for Papa to come home for dinner before I eat. I don't want to spoil my appetite."

"Master Sirius is home," Tipsy said with a nod. "He's outside playing with his motofly-thingy."

Harry's formerly happy belly went cold in dread.

If his father was already back, then he knew that Harry was late. Which meant that Harry was probably in a lot of trouble.

Bugger

Harry groaned and bid the excited elves farewell. His steps heavy with trepidation, he left the kitchen and slowly made his way outside to his doom.

Slipping as quietly as possible out the front door, he nodding a hello at the suits of armor standing guard to each side and saw his father bent over his motorbike tinkering with the engine. Sirius was set up next to the large fountain where the animated cherubs were frolicking in the water, barely missing Sirius with their playful splashing. He had his back to his son and was seemingly unaware of Harry's presence as the boy sullenly descended the curved staircase.

Next to Sirius on the ground was the Muggle radio that they'd had picked up in London recently. Battery powered, because the chateau wasn't equipped with electricity, they'd discovered that it would work outside despite the strong wards surrounding the estate. Sadly, the same wasn't true for Harry's new mobile phone, which sat in a drawer of the desk in his room at the London flat.

As Harry walked closer, he recognized the soft rock beat of David Bowie's Starman playing as Sirius sang along.

One thing the boy had learned about his adoptive father was that Sirius loved Muggle classic rock music.

Sirius had brought home several of his old albums from the flat and charmed them to play on their magical gramophone. Since then, he'd been making a concerted effort to introduce his son to the great British musicians of the seventies.

Besides Pink Floyd and The Who, Sirius enjoyed listening to bands like The Rolling Stones, AC/DC and Led Zeppelin when enjoying a glass of Firewhiskey after a hard day. His more relaxed moods found him playing songs by Queen or David Bowie, and when he was training in the dueling room, he'd summon the gramophone up there and blast selections by The Sex Pistols at high volume to get his blood pumping.

Some of these bands, Harry liked. Some of them, he didn't. But it didn't really matter to him, as just spending time with his father was always fun, no matter what they were doing.

For just a few seconds, Harry stood back and watched Sirius work.

Gone was the well polished appearance of this morning, with the tailored clothing and the stuffy official Wizengamot robes. Right now, Sirius was dressed in a black T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans with holes in the knees. His hair was bound in a ponytail and there was a streak of grease across his left cheekbone.

He also looked entirely content and happy as he puttered with his beloved bike.

Harry smiled. Far too often Sirius was bogged down with stress and worry.

Usually about Harry.

It was nice to see him just enjoying himself, doing normal things.

Harry didn't realize how long he'd been standing there, just watching his father work, until Sirius turned around and looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he tapped his watch pointedly.

The boy sighed and held up his hands in surrender.

"I swear," he pleaded, "I tried to be home on time. But you know how Mrs. Weasley gets."

"Harry..." Sirius replied as he stood up.

"She wouldn't let me leave, Papa," the boy insisted. "She just kept shoving baked goods in my arms until I could barely hold them without dropping them all over the place. You should have seen me in the floo! It was a nightmare!"

"Harry..."

"Honestly!" Harry cried out desperately, throwing his hands in the air. "I told her that I had to go, but it was like she wasn't even listening to me, and it would have been rude if I just..."

"Harry James!" Sirius interrupted sharply, putting his hands on his hips.

Harry's shoulders slumped as he gave up on protesting his innocence. "Yes, sir?"

Because the boy's head was bowed in defeat, he didn't see the small smirk on his father's face or the way Sirius was shaking his head fondly at his kid.

"Grab that socket wrench out of the toolbox over there and come help me with this," Sirius said, cocking his head in the direction of the bike.

Harry looked up to see the mirth on his father's face and realized that he wasn't actually in trouble. He sighed in relief and then did as he was told, joining Sirius by the motorbike. Sirius reached out and cupped the back of Harry's head, drawing the boy close and dropping a kiss on the windblown tangle of spikes.

"Did you have fun today?" he asked with a smile.

"Yeah," Harry said with an enthusiastic nod as he leaned into Sirius for minute. "It was brilliant. I caught the snitch four times over Charlie's two, and one of those was because Errol flew right in front of me just as I was about to grab it and I had to steer away before I hit him. That bird's a menace, I swear."

Sirius barked out a laugh as he let go of his son and crouched down to where he'd been working on the bike.

"Sounds like you did very well, as usual," he praised, making Harry smile widely. "Now, come on down here and give me a hand. I'm going to show you how to change the oil and maybe we can fix that little leak she has too."

Beaming, Harry eagerly joined his father as Sirius painstakingly took his son through the basic mechanics of the motorbike. They worked side by side for a while, taking far more time to do the uncomplicated maintenance than necessary. Just enjoying each other's company as they chatted about their respective afternoons and in no hurry to do anything else.

Finally, Sirius declared they were finished as he wiped his hands on a rag while Harry did the same with another.

"Couldn't you do this all with magic?" the boy asked curiously as Sirius began putting his tools away neatly.

"Certainly," Sirius answered with a nod. "But sometimes, kiddo, it's nice to just do something the Muggle way, just to make sure that you can."

Harry hummed thoughtfully as he accepted a bottle of cold butterbeer that Sirius was handing him. "Like when we cooked together at school, right?"

"Exactly."

Sirius swallow a large gulp of his own butterbeer and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he looked pensively at his son.

The classic rock station on the radio was now playing Steppenwolf's Born to Be Wild as Sirius pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at his son thoughtfully. Harry couldn't help squirming a little from the intensive attention he was being treated to before his father seemed to reach a decision and let out a resigned sigh. Putting his drink on the ground next to the tool box, Sirius patted the bike's seat.

"Hop on."

Harry smiled widely at the prospect of going for a fly on the bike as he put down his own bottle and raced to throw his leg over the leather seat, taking up the passenger position.

"Nope," Sirius said, shaking his head and gently patting his son's back to nudge him forward. "You're driving."

Harry's eyes practically popped out of their sockets and he let out a whoop of joy as he slid forward and grabbed the handle bars, barely believing his luck. Sirius had been so strict about Harry being taught to operate the motorbike that he'd thought it would be years before he was allowed in front.

"Don't get too excited," Sirius cautioned sternly, cocking an eyebrow at his ecstatic son. "There are rules. We're staying on the ground, you're only going to drive along the little pathway here and you will do exactly as you are told or this is the last time your bum will sit on this bike. Understand?"

The limited parameters weren't enough to dampen Harry's joy. At this point, he'd take anything he could get.

"Yes, sir," he agreed quickly, practically bouncing. "I promise."

"Alright," Sirius said with a little shake of his head. "First things, first."

It took Sirius a good half hour of instruction and demonstration before he felt even remotely comfortably letting Harry drive them down the path.

Of course, Sirius was sitting right behind his son, wand at the ready, just in case there were any problems, but it still felt risky to him and he couldn't actually believe that he was allowing it. Like most new drivers, Harry stalled a few times because of his inexperience with the clutch, but it wasn't long before he'd gotten the hang of slowly releasing it instead of just letting go.

Now that he was driving the bike himself, Harry understood why his father was concerned about the weight. The Triumph was large and heavy, and not particularly responsive compared to the way Harry's broom was, but he was still convinced that he'd love it once he got the hang of it.

They rode around the grounds of the estate for half an hour or so, never going too fast or leaving the ground until Sirius decided that his nerves had had enough and it was time to switch places. Harry was looking tired, even if he wouldn't admit it, and the concerned father knew that the day's activities had worn his son out which made driving the bike risky.

They'd gotten a good start with Harry's practice and there was no need to rush.

As summer drew closer, the daylight was lasting longer, and right now the sun was still shining brightly. Dinner would be ready fairly soon, but Sirius decided that they still had enough time for a little more fun. Puttering around with his bike had relaxed him quite a bit after his arduous day at the Ministry, but what he really needed now was to let off a little steam up in the air.

And Sirius was an excellent flyer, that much was sure. Every bit as talented on his bike as his son was on a broom.

Once Harry was holding on tightly, his father revved the engine and they rocketed into the sky. Harry loved the adrenaline rush from the speed and he cried out with excitement as they soared high above the estate. They spent a full hour just skirting the clouds, diving and dodging around the peaks of the Lake District, and even spiritedly chased behind a flock of wild geese for a few minutes.

After a while though, Harry's full day of excitement caught up to him and he began to drag a little. He leaned forward and buried the right side of his face between Sirius' shoulder blades and wrapped his arms a little tighter around his father's waist, so as not to lose his grip. Sirius smelled like cedar and citrus, comfort and home, and Harry hummed in contentment, knowing that he was loved and safe, as he idly watched the occasional puffy white cloud pass by.

At the front of the bike, Sirius smiled, feeling his tired kid snuggle closer. He knew that Harry had to be just about wiped out physically and mentally if he was allowing himself to be so clingy. Sirius didn't want his son in any danger of actually falling off if he feel asleep, so he flicked his wand and cast a temporary sticking charm that glued Harry's bum to the seat and then slowly turned the motorbike around and headed back to the chateau.

By the time Sirius landed them on the front lawn of the chateau, he wasn't surprised to find that Harry had dozed off.

Slipping from the seat, Sirius put an arm around his son and canceled the sticking charm as he gently pulled Harry from the bike. It woke the boy up and he blinked owlishly for a second as he looked around and realized that they were back home. He grinned and then yawned and stretched adorably as another flick of Sirius' wand sent the motorbike off to the storage shed he kept it in.

Sirius hooked an arm around his drowsy son's shoulders to help him make the trek up to the house as Harry glanced up and took a good look at his father while they walked side-by-side.

The sun and the wind had stained Sirius' cheeks a healthy pink. His neat ponytail had come a little loose and there were now strands of his jet black hair hanging in his face as his silver eyes brightly danced. Sirius' tight black T-shirt stretched across his chest showing off his well-defined muscles and his long, jeans clad legs strode confidently up the lawn as the buckles on his biker boots clinked with each step. He smiled down at his son with a wide grin full of love and gave Harry an affectionate squeeze.

Thinking about his earlier opinions regarding Charlie Weasley, Harry realized how very wrong he'd been.

Nobody was ever going to be cooler than his Papa.

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

Sirius couldn't sleep, which wasn't really anything new.

Sometimes he wondered if he'd ever get back on a regular sleep cycle, when he could count on the six or seven hours of regular rest that his aging body was starting to demand more and more, but then he had to admit to himself that he'd never actually had a regular sleep cycle to begin with.

Living in Grimmauld Place with his parents had been like playing an ongoing game of Russian Roulette.

You never quite knew just what was going to set off Orion's fierce temper and it didn't seem to matter what time of day or night it was when he went off on one of his rages. The uncertainty forced both of his sons to exist in a perpetual state of nervousness during their childhood. One that eventually evolved into Sirius' teenage rebellious streak and Regulus' equally fierce determination to be a good little Pure-blood son.

Sirius' life at Hogwarts, a much more pleasant existence, was spent with many nights awake in the wee hours planning or making mischief, which was okay since he was young and could survive on Pepper-Up potions and few hours of sleep here and there.

And his life in Azkaban...well, the less said about those years the better.

Oftentimes, the single father found himself wandering through the halls of Celestial Court in the quiet hours of night, the weight of the world on his shoulders. It helped that he could peek into Harry's room and confirm for himself that his son was sleeping peacefully, safe and sound in his own bed.

Like a worried parent of a newborn, Sirius couldn't even begin to relax until he saw with his own eyes that Harry's chest was rising and falling steadily, soft snores occasionally escaping his nose. He'd silently pad over to the bed and straighten Harry's blankets, which were invariably bunched up around the boy's feet since the kid was such an active sleeper, before leaning over to drop a kiss on the ebony mop of unruly hair. Then, just as silently, saying a prayer for the future and retreating back out into the corridor again.

In truth, Sirius felt more than a bit embarrassed by his need to visually assuage his own fears over the welfare of his child, who was already fourteen with fifteen charging at them like a freight train in a few months, but he couldn't help it. At Harry's age, Sirius couldn't even begin to think of just how unwelcome Orion or Walburga would have been in his room in the middle of the night.

The pressing guilt eventually made him confess his nocturnal visits to Harry one day, thinking it only fair that his son know just how often his silly father slipped uninvited into his room to watch him sleep. But fortunately for Sirius, Harry just gave him a hug and assured him that it was fine. Even admitting to his father that the idea of Sirius keeping a protective watch over him made Harry sleep a bit better himself.

It was a horrible thing for a child to know what it felt like to not be safe or cared for in his own home, and Sirius smiled sadly at his boy, understanding without Harry having to say it out loud that life on Privet Drive had been anything but comforting.

So tonight, with the ritual just about complete, Sirius glanced around the room out of habit before taking his leave. Harry wasn't a particularly messy boy, but he wasn't exactly tidy either. He knew he was expected to keep his room fairly clean as part of earning his allowance, so it usually wasn't terribly disorganized, but occasionally it did need a little more attention than Harry gave it.

With an amused shake of his head, Sirius cast a few quiet cleaning charms just to help straighten up a bit.

Harry's dirty clothes from the floor and the hamper in his bathroom paraded orderly out the door to make their way down to the washroom in the basement for cleaning and pressing as the contents of the trashcan next to his desk were vanished. Another swish of Sirius' wand sent a dirty glass and plate that had held a nighttime snack of juice and biscuits back to the kitchen.

Sirius stopped short when Harry squirmed in his bed a little, hoping that his cleaning tasks hadn't inadvertently woken the boy up. Thankfully, it looked like his son was just doing a normal rollover in his sleep and Sirius let out a relieved breath as he moved around a little more gingerly.

It hadn't been easy getting his son to go to bed this evening in the first place.

...Earlier that evening...

The lot of them had attended the Quidditch match that Hestia had arranged for them. It was an excellent one, too, lasting almost three hours longer than the average match since the teams were equally competitive. Unlike the lackluster competition between the Harpies and the Cannons a few weeks ago, when the Cannon players seemed to barely notice that they were actually expected to score.

The Weasley boys screamed their heads off the entire time, cheering the good moves and shouting insults at the referees for bad calls, and young Ginny swooned with hero worship over all the Harpies players, practically fainting when she got to sit with them all at the pub for the after-match celebration. With the exception of one awkward moment, when Harry ran into Cedric and Cho who had come together, it had been a fantastic evening for them all.

A longer match meant that the after-celebration went on quite late and, despite being picky about bedtimes, Sirius was practically undone by his son's huge green eyes and pleading voice begging for just a few more minutes, Papa, pleeeease?

Harry's pleading face was Sirius' greatest weakness, and he hated to deny his son the chance for some fun. The players practically treated the boy as one of their own, and Hestia overtly fussed over her new godson like she was trying to jam fourteen years of indulgence into the span of a couple of months.

So they stayed at the pub until midnight, which was probably a mistake, because Harry was definitely over-tired and clearly quite grouchy when he had to say good-bye to everyone.

Once they were back at the chateau, Harry was oozing attitude and vocally expressing his displeasure, and Sirius, a bit annoyed himself since he'd given his son such a nice treat, was in no mood to take it. A stern reminder to Harry to mind his tone got Sirius a shirty remark back, which only grew more snappish as he marched his son upstairs for bed.

By the time they reached Harry's room, the boy had talked back to his father enough to lose his flying privileges for the next day, and he would instead spend two hours in the school room writing lines.

Before things got any worse, Sirius left Harry to get ready for bed and stomped off angrily to his own room. For a just a moment he debated on going to sleep himself without returning to tuck his crabby son in for the first time, since Harry had been arguing for over an hour that he wasn't a child anymore, Papa.

But in the end, he couldn't do it.

He waited for twenty minutes, giving the boy plenty of time to wash up, get into bed and hopefully calm down, before he went back into Harry's room. Thankfully, he found his son obediently lying underneath his blankets, forestalling another fight about bedtimes, but Harry was also looking positively miserable as Sirius walked over to him.

"I'm sorry, Papa," Harry said quietly as Sirius sat down on the bed and took Harry's glasses from him to place on the nightstand. "I don't know why I got so angry."

Sirius hummed thoughtfully as he gently tucked a wayward tangle of hair behind Harry's ear.

"Sometimes we can get angry when we feel like we're missing out on the fun that other people are having," he said with an understanding nod. "I know you wanted to stay longer and some day, when you are of age, you will. But until then, you have to do what I say."

"Yes, sir," the boy whispered as he picked at a loose thread on his blanket. "I know."

Part of Sirius knew that Harry's reluctance to come home probably had something to do with the fact that Charlie Weasley was staying on at the pub with the players. He wasn't so obtuse that he didn't see how much his son admired the young dragon handler. Sirius would be less than honest with himself if he didn't admit that there was a small part of him that was a bit jealous over the glowing way Harry had gushed about the afternoon he'd spent at the Burrow flying against Charlie.

It was the part of him that had been looking forward to being the fun godfather, and not the strict parent he'd actually become.

Not that he'd give up the close relationship he had with Harry now. Not even for a second. But occasionally it was just hard being the one having to scold and punish Harry, dragging the boy home practically kicking and screaming, instead of being the one the boy was fighting to spend time with.

Sirius might have been just a tad more sensitive to his son's whinging tonight as a result.

Which wasn't fair to Harry, really, or even to Charlie Weasley who wasn't responsible for the fact that Harry didn't have a big brother of his own to idolize. And Sirius knew where he stood in his son's life, which was a very good place to be, but it didn't mean that the occasional insecurity didn't rear its ugly little head from time to time.

"Go to sleep now, little one," Sirius said as he leaned over and kissed Harry's forehead. "I love you, Harry James."

"Even when I'm a brat?" Harry asked doubtfully, his eyes downcast.

Sirius tipped Harry's chin up so he could look directly at his son's face and smiled. "Even when you're a brat."

Harry nodded, relieved, before giving his father an impish grin .

"Enough to let me fly on my broom tomorrow?" he asked hopefully.

"Enough that I didn't smack your bum in front of everyone when you were being so rude to me," Sirius answered with a sternly raised eyebrow that made his son blush.

Harry gulped, barely able to meet Sirius' eyes until his father smiled at him. He scooted down further in his bed and rolled over and closed his eyes.

"I love you too, Papa."

Sirius extinguished the lamps in the room and stood there for just a moment, feeling better about it all, before wishing his son goodnight and taking his leave.

...Now...

That had been over three hours ago, and he'd barely been able to shut his eyes for more than five minutes before he was back up and wandering the halls.

With his nightly ritual just about complete, Sirius started to turn around to leave when a movement in the darkness by the windows caught his eye. His wand was in his hand before he even knew it as he strode across the room.

Sirius realized with a start that Hedwig was on her perch instead of outside hunting for mice, as she usually did at night. She was awake and now staring at Sirius in what he thought was a very pointed manner for an owl, and there was just something about her odd behavior that quickly stirred Padfoot's senses inside of Sirius.

A soft breeze was making the curtains of an open window flutter and Sirius lifted his head and reflexively drew in a deep breath of the outside air with a canine's more sensitive nose. The unmistakable scent of ozone filtered through his nasal passages as realization hit and he smiled widely.

A storm was coming.

Seconds later, there was a bright flash in the distance, and Sirius silently counted one...two...three...BOOM!

Lightning and thunder. And it was headed their way.

It was time.

Feeling a rush of excitement, Sirius darted back over to Harry's bed and gently shook his son.

"Harry! Wake up, kiddo. It's time."

Not exactly pleased to be roused from a deep slumber, especially when his body somehow knew that it wasn't nearly early enough for the dawn recitation yet, the boy groaned sleepily and burrowed himself further under his blanket, but Sirius shook him again.

"C'mon, little one. Up you go."

He tugged Harry's blanket off the protesting boy, who ineffectually tried to grab it back, and gave his son's wriggling bum a prodding swat to get him moving while simultaneously sending off a patronus to summon both Remus and Arthur Weasley.

"A storm is on its way, Harry James," he warned his son with an excited grin. "Don't you want to do the spell?"

That finally broke through Harry's sleep addled mind and he shot up in his bed, his eyes wide.

"Really?" he asked with a gasp as he grabbed for his glasses on the nightstand. "Brilliant!"

Sirius chuckled at the abrupt change in his son's demeanor as he nodded. "Really. Now get dressed."

He left the room to let Harry change and called for Dobby and Bicky as he quickly descended the stairs. He'd warned all the kids and their parents that the spell might have to take place in the middle of the night, depending on the weather, so he didn't quite feel guilty about rousing everyone at such a late hour. The faithful elves immediately popped in next to him.

"It's time for the spell," he explained quickly to the large eyed beings in front of him. "Could you please go and fetch Hermione and Neville?"

"Right away, Papa Seriously," Dobby said with glee before vanishing with a pop! Bicky nodded vigorously before she too was off on her way to where the Grangers were on a camping trip in the Forest of Dean.

Sirius chuckled to himself. He didn't own Dobby, so he didn't expect the somewhat abnormal little elf to call him Master Sirius like the rest of the Celestial Court house elves did, but he wasn't quite sure how he felt about being referred to as Papa Seriously either.

A moment later, Harry charged down the stairs like a bull, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. Sirius could understand very well. He'd been exactly the same way when the night had come for his own transformation.

A loud pop! near them by the door was Remus apparating in, having not wanted to take the time to walk up to the house.

"I was awake," he said with a wide grin. "I had a feeling it would be tonight."

"We still need to wait on the others," Sirius said, more to his son who was practically climbing the walls in anticipation. "Don't worry. The lightning will have done its job. As long as you drink the potion within the next hour or so, everything will be fine."

Harry wasn't convinced, but he also knew that he couldn't just charge out to the cave on his own, so he flopped down on a sofa in the parlor, bouncing his knee up and down nervously.

Another pop! was Bicky depositing Hermione in the entry hall, who then joined them in the parlor still in her pajamas and bare feet.

"She wouldn't even wait to let me change!" the girl said in annoyance as she flopped down next to Harry with a huff.

Remus laughed and gave his wand a swish that transfigured Hermione's pajamas into a light jumper and jeans and short, green Wellies. Hermione looked up at him gratefully, knowing that it was starting to rain hard outside and she didn't fancy trudging through the mud with no shoes on.

Neville was next with Dobby, and he seemed to have the same problem to a degree. Either that or he had decided on his own to simply pull a robe on over his pajamas and leave with his feet clad in slippers. Another swish of a wand, Sirius' this time, also helped him out.

Finally, the floo roared to life and Ron tumbled out with both of his parents right behind him. They'd managed to throw on some proper clothes, but Molly's hair was hanging all askew from various mismatched curlers, making her look like a slightly deranged Medusa.

"Everyone's here," Sirius said, clapping his hands together. "So off we go!"

Despite the short wait time since starting the potions, there was already a plan in place for this.

Sirius summoned a medium sized white marquee that he'd acquired and the four adults lifted their wands with each taking a corner so the marquee opened and was spread out to shelter them all from the rain as they dashed together towards the cave. One problem with the cave was that it wasn't particularly large, so if one of the children was a bigger animal, space was definitely going to be an issue.

With a marquee, they could position it nearby and thus have a place where the kids could transform without getting soaked.

It took ten very long minutes to arrive at their destination, even with everyone moving along as quickly as they could. The children were chattering excitedly like a loud gaggle of geese, and there were bets being made on who would be what, with Neville thoroughly convinced that he'd be something useless, like a slug, and Ron teasing Hermione that she was destined to be an owl, which would finally force her to fly.

Harry kept his thoughts to himself as to what his form would be.

Privately, he was hoping for something that would honor one of his fathers. It would be grand to be a stag like his Dad's patronus and his own. More than likely, even, since patronuses and animagus forms usually went hand in hand. But another part of him would be pleased to be a Grim, like Sirius. He'd love to transform with his father and spend hours running around and exploring the woods together.

"Alright, kids," Sirius said with a smile. "When you go in, quickly take your phials and then come right back out here. Careful you don't spill it!"

A look of horror passed over all four young faces at the prospect of having to do this over again. They all very gingerly made their way inside the cave to the niche that now held four phials of blood red potion, grabbed them and then just as slowly made their way back out again to where the adults had the marquee set up.

Harry was decidedly cross when he realized that there was a chance he wouldn't be the first one of the group to make the transformation.

The only thing that the adults had agreed in front of the kids, before they stepped away to privately discuss the particulars, was that the transformations were to be done one at a time.

Sirius had already told everyone how frightening and confusing it was when the Marauders had undergone the process on their own, without any adult wizards or witches around just in case something went sideways. While it had fortunately turned out okay in the end, he strongly felt that there was no need to subject the children to that kind of fear and uncertainty this time around.

One orderly and well monitored transition, followed by the next, and so on, would make the whole thing easier on all of them.

Of course Sirius wanted Harry to go first, since it was their idea to begin with. But Molly, still skeptical, as well as overly protective of Harry just as much her own son, argued that all four of the children were heavily vested in the process, so there was nothing wrong with Neville or Hermione going first.

Sirius pointed out that, as the undisputed bravest among them, Harry would want to take the risk first and prove to the others that it was safe. Remus countered that the kids were all Gryffindors, and by definition, all brave, while Arthur and Molly were left speechless and wondering if their son had just been insulted.

Molly then suggested that it should be ladies first, and Arthur raised his eyebrow at her, wondering if she was still holding a grudge against Hermione because of the Yule Ball nonsense.

Personally, Arthur thought that it might be best to have oldest to youngest go, which Sirius rightly pointed out still made Hermione first.

Finally, Remus flatly declared that Sirius, as the only animgus present, was the one who was most needed in case they had to deal with any complications that might arise, but his mind would be distracted with the others if Harry was already transformed. Despite wanting to throw something at his friend's head for his remark, Sirius couldn't disagree with it.

In the end, they went oldest to youngest. Which meant Hermione first, followed by Ron, then Neville and then Harry.

Sirius was left to break the the news to his annoyed son.

The group huddled in a circle under the hurriedly erected marquee as the the rain relentlessly pelted the canvas roof. The air was electric with lightning from the storm and excitement from wizards and witches who could practically feel their magic buzzing around them.

"This is infinitely more comfortable than when we did the spell," Sirius said with a laugh. "I'm not sure why we didn't think of taking shelter before undergoing the transformation."

"Our dormitory smelled like wet dog for a week," Remus reminded him with a smirk. "For the life of her, Minerva couldn't figure out why."

"Let's just hope one of them is not a giraffe," Arthur said with a worried look at the relatively low ceiling before glancing at the children holding their phials tightly in their hands.

"Okay, Hermione," Sirius said calmly, beckoning her forward. "You're going to say the spell one more time, and then drink the potion. You understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said shakily, fighting back nerves so she didn't look weak in front of the others.

"Now, the first transformation is going to be a bit painful," Sirius gently reminded her. "But I promise that it will pass quickly."

He'd already described to the children, in detail, what they should expect several times, but it never hurt to repeat it. The first time he'd felt his bones start to reshape into Padfoot, he just about bit his own tongue off. It had given him a new respect for what Remus went through every month.

"You might feel a little frightened as the animal inside of you takes over," he continued, "but this is perfectly normal, alright? Just let it happen. If you stay calm, you'll keep your human mind. I'm right here. I won't let anything bad happen to you."

"Okay," she whispered hoarsely, "Okay."

The serious young girl took several deep breaths before placing the tip of her wand on her heart. She jumped a little, feeling a new sensation for the first time.

"I feel it," she said a little nervously. "The second heartbeat. I can feel it."

"That's fine, sweetheart," Sirius assured her, nodding. "It's what you want. It means that the spell is working properly."

"Alright," she said as she raised her wand again. "Amato Animo Animato Animagus"

The second heartbeat grew stronger inside of her as the blood red potion in the phial swirled impatiently. Hermione sent a worried glance over at Harry, then Ron and Neville who were nodding at her in encouragement, took a deep breath and then quickly drank the potion.

For one second, that seemed to last for eternity to them all, nothing happened.

But then, right in front of their eyes, Hermione began to shrink as her wavy brown hair grew out and seemed to sprout all over her arms and legs. In a shimmer, her clothes morphed into even more fur and, a few second later, there was now a decidedly nervous long-haired feline where the girl had formerly stood.

"Goodness me!" Molly gasped out loud as the cat looked up at Sirius and meowed quite loudly.

"Perfectly done, Hermione," Sirius praised as he hunkered down to her eye level. "Are you feeling alright?"

The cat nodded distinctly as she lifted her right front paw and looked at it curiously. Remus conjured a mirror and placed it in front of the cat, who startled for just a second before she began to study her new form in depth.

"I think she's a Siberian," Arthur observed. "My great-aunt Harriet had one. They're dreadfully clever things, Siberian cats, so no real surprise here."

"Well, Hermione," Sirius said with a chuckle, "I guess is no wonder that you and Crookshanks get along so well. You probably speak the same language. Ready to change back?"

The cat nodded again and pranced over to stand in front Sirius, looking up at him to await instructions.

"Now," he said encouragingly, "I want you to think of your human form. See it very clearly in your mind. Picture your face, your hands and your feet. If necessary, I can change you back, but it's better if you do it yourself, understand?"

Again, the cat nodded and Sirius stepped back allowing her some room. There was a brief moment that the cat scrunched up its face, then a blur and then Hermione was standing there once again, looking a bit awed.

"That...was weird," she said rubbing the smooth skin on her face.

"You mean brilliant," Ron gushed, a huge smile on his face as he went over to her. "What did if feel like?"

"It pinched a bit," Hermione admitted with a frown on her face, "but really, somehow I just knew what to expect. Like, the animal inside me was guiding me."

Sirius nodded. "That's it exactly. Our animagus forms are very much a part of us. Ron, you're next."

He wanted to keep the momentum going. Even a second of hesitation on the parts of the kids might cause them to lose focus, which could be disasterous. Off to the side, Molly hummed uneasily as Arthur put his arm around his wife.

"He'll be just fine, Mollywobbles," he said soothingly. "Ron's a strong wizard."

He looked at his son and nodded with an encouraging smile and Ron smiled back as he stood in the center of the group and lifted his wand.

"Well, here goes nothing, I guess. Amato Animo Animato Animagus."

Ron too felt the double heartbeat and he grinned at Sirius. There simply wasn't anything about what he was about to do that wasn't exciting. It was going to be grand to have a talent that his siblings did not. He lifted his phial up in the air and cast a look over at Harry.

"Cheers, mate!"

Knocking the potion back like a shot of Firewhiskey, Ron stood and waited for a few seconds.

Like Hermione, nothing happened immediately, but one moment Ron was there, and the next it seemed like he'd melted down into the shape of a young Jack Russell terrier. The little dog was white with markings the identical color of Ron's red hair and he barked happily as he ran circles around the marquee.

"Merlin!" Molly exclaimed with a large smile. "Look at you, Ronnie! You're just the most adorable thing ever!"

The dog wagged its curled tail and then jumped up into his mother's outstretched arms and licked her face. Molly couldn't stop squealing with delight, even when the pup demanded to be put down. With a blur, Sirius shifted into Padfoot, and the two canines chased each other around the marquee interior for a moment, barking and yipping away, making the others laugh.

All too soon for Ron, Sirius shifted back and called him over, where he took Ron through the same reverse process that he had with Hermione.

"Brilliant!" the now once again human Ron said with a huge smile. "I wish I was still at Hogwarts, just so I could sneak into the Slytherin dorms and chew up all of Malfoy's things. Maybe even take a pi-"

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly scolded, "You would do no such thing!"

Ron lowered his eyes until his mother's head was turned before leaning over to whisper to Harry "I totally would."

"Neville!" Sirius called, barely suppressing a laugh, "You're up."

Hesitantly, Neville shuffled forward into the circle, shaking his head and prepared for the worst.

"I'll be some kind of rubbish animal," the boy said woefully. "Just you wait and see. It'll be too embarrassing to transform in front of anyone, ever, because I'm a ruddy aardvark or something."

"You'll be fine," Hermione said with a firm nod. "You're quite intelligent when you apply yourself, and ever since you got your new wand, you're one of the most capable wizards I know."

Her praise made Neville's ears blush pink and he looked somewhat more cheerful as he quickly drank the potion and then raised his wand to his heart.

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus"

Unlike the other two, Nevile shrank a little, but not really too much. He only shifted down to just above waist height while his whole body sprouted fine tan fur and, a mere second later, his appearance had completely gobsmacked the others.

"Wicked!" Ron blurted out, the rest of the group nodding in agreement.

Where Neville had been standing, there was now a young lion in his place. Clearly a teenager, since there was only a small tuft of fur on the top of his head until his full mane grew in, but still an imposing sight.

"Neville," Sirius said, his eyes dancing with delight, "are you okay in there?"

The young lion roared, seeming to spook himself for a moment until he realized the noise had come from him. He nodded his head at Sirius' question and then roared again happily.

Harry was dutifully impressed, and he remembered just how much fun it had been his first night back to school in his third year, when he and the rest of the boys in his dorm were eating sweets that let them make animal sounds. Ron's imitation of a lion had been pretty cool, but the fact that Neville actually was one, was really incredible.

"Well, you do not see that every day," Arthur said impressed. "If ever anyone was a true Gryffindor..."

Contrary to being jealous over Neville literally embodying the symbol of their former school house, the three other teenagers were happy for their shy and insecure friend. Each of them hoping that this new development would boost Neville's overall confidence.

Sirius let the young lion proudly prance around the marquee for a couple of minutes before calling him over and helping Neville effect the change back. In his human form, the boy returned to stand with his friends who were cheering him on and slapping his back in congratulations.

"Okay, Harry James," Sirius called, a lilt of excitement in his voice. "Let's see what lives inside of you."

Harry made his way to the center of the circle, just a hint of trepidation on his face as he released his wand from his holder. Now that the moment was here, he was just a tad bit concerned about what truly did live inside him. Would it be his Dad's majestic stag or his Papa's powerful Grim? Or maybe, a fearful little voice inside him said, it was something a little more sinister?

Sirius was looking at him funny, as if he could hear the troubling debate going on in Harry's mind, and the boy, not wanting to distress his father, shook his head and dismissed his dark thoughts. One thing he did know for sure was, whatever he turned out to be, Sirius would accept him and help him through it.

He stood directly in front of his father and Sirius reached out to cup Harry's chin in his hands.

"Ready, little one?"

With a nod, Harry raised his wand.

"Amato Animo Animato Animagus"

He quickly swallowed the potion in one gulp, and then closed his eyes and waited.

In the span of a heartbeat, a clear image began to take form in his mind, and he knew right away that he was looking at the representation of his inner self.

He smiled.

Despite the initial disappointment in not being either one of his fathers, the utter joy in seeing himself and knowing on a cellular deep level that it was exactly what he was supposed to be filled him with a satisfaction that was hard to describe. He breathed deeply as the animal's heartbeat synced up with his own and then the pain struck.

First his skin rippled, feeling like taffy pulling, and then his muscles swelled around bones and joints that were realigning themselves and he had a sense of getting taller. More pain, this time burning from his shoulder blades and lower back. He knew what it was and, despite the discomfort, he couldn't stifle the joyous laugh that burst forth as his new form settled.

"Merlin's furry cupcakes," Remus swore as he took in the sight of the newest young animagus. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a galleon that he handed to a madly grinning Sirius.

"I told you, Moony," Sirius crowed triumphantly as he tossed the galleon up in the air and then caught it again before putting in his own pocket. "I know my own son."

Remus raised an annoyed eyebrow at his old friend, who couldn't have been more pleased if he tried, before turning back to the majestic black horse in front of them.

The young winged stallion whinnied again and stomped his hoof in the damp earth as his wings expanded and flapped a bit. Remus shook his head fondly as he watched Sirius move forward to coo at the stallion and affectionately stroke the white lightning bolt on his forelock.

"A bloody Pegasus."

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

A/N Part II

I know, I know. In the books, Hermione's patronus is an otter, so her animgus form probably would have been too. But patronuses can change, depending on the wizard or witch's moods, and I've always felt that Hermione was definitely cat-like in a lot of ways.