A/N: Howdy everyone! Early release this week! Have a weekend family get together and won't be able to post Sunday morning. Rather than make you wait, you get Chapter 8 early! Check out the HAPHNE discord for the weekly illustration from my wife. It's from Chapter 7. As always, thank you to those who review, favorite, follow and PM! See you next week!

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just happy to be here!

Chapter 8

May 30, 1993, flickered on the screen. Harry, still in the hospital wing, lay in bed surrounded by his thoughts. No one else was there. The bodies of Ginny and Lockhart had been moved earlier that day. Daphne was home with her parents. He couldn't recall if they'd spoken. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he stared at the ceiling, replaying yesterday's events.

I stood no chance. If it wasn't for Fawkes and blind luck, Daphne would be dead. I would be dead.

His hands clenched his sheets in frustration.

I'm not powerful enough to equal even a memory of Voldemort.

Harry's body spasmed painfully. Madam Pomfrey had indicated it could take up to a year for him to not feel the aftereffects of the Cruciatus curse. Apparently, the more you suffered from it, the longer it took for your nerves to heal.

Fucking Crucio curse. Damn Voldemort. Every. Spell. Deflected.

He stubbornly refused to sob. Painfully, he swallowed back the emotion begging to burst from within.

Couldn't save her. Ginny. She's dead because of my ineptitude. All year I worked to do better. To be stronger. And for what? Nothing. In the end, I could do nothing.

A sobbing snort escaped.

And that was against a Voldemort who was, what, sixteen? Seventeen? Granted, he had four or five years on me. But damn. I couldn't touch him. Had he been fully corporeal, I doubt I would have been able to cast at all. I'd have been on my knees begging to die.

A soft pop! broke Harry from his downward spiral. He turned his head to see a remorseful Dobby nervously wringing his hands. The sock that set him free was tied around his waist proudly.

"Dobby," Harry greeted emotionlessly, uncaring of the tears that still trickled from his eyes.

"Dobby is sorry, Sir," the house-elf said. "Had Dobby known you were so badly injured; he would have brought you here faster. But Dobby knew the Great Harry Potter was thinking and then the pretty birdie showed up and you spoke with it. Dobby felt it rude to interrupt."

Harry smiled sadly. "It's okay, Dobby. Fawkes was making sure I was okay, and you had just earned your freedom. I don't blame you for being distracted."

"Dobby is a free elf because of the Great Harry Potter."

Harry shook his head. "You're a free elf because you're a good friend, Dobby."

"Dobby has never had a friend."

That made Harry's chest clench painfully.

"Well, now you have one. I'm your friend, Dobby."

Dobby burst into tears. It was several minutes before he calmed, still weeping happily.

"What are you going to do now, Dobby?" Harry asked.

"Dobby must find work," the house-elf replied. "Although it may be difficult for Dobby because Dobby wants to be paid. And have vacation days."

Harry thought for a moment.

"Would you like to work for me?"

"Work for the Great Harry Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. I'll pay you one galleon a week and, uh…You can have two days off a week."

Dobby blinked. "That is too much!"

"Oh, really? I thought it was too little."

"Dobby will tell stories of your greatness, Sir!" Dobby exclaimed, practically worshipping the boy. "But Dobby would prefer one day off a month."

"Deal," Harry agreed. "So, um, what do we do now? Do we need to sign anything?"

Dobby shook his head, ears flapping wildly. "Harry Potter must only grab Dobby's hand and allow Dobby to bond with him."

"Okay," Harry reached out his hand, which Dobby immediately took.

There was a small flash of light, and Dobby was now bonded to Harry Potter. The house-elf was beside himself with joy. Harry and Dobby eventually agreed that Dobby would stay at Hogwarts until called. The thought of the house-elf at the Dursley's didn't sit well with Harry.

With their agreement in place, Dobby popped away, leaving Harry alone once more. He sighed, feeling better after his encounter with the eccentric elf.

I have to do more, he thought resolutely. I have to become more powerful. For Daphne. For Dobby. I won't let someone else die because of my inability to fight. I'll talk to Flitwick next term. Ask for more lessons. More training. I'll work until I break. And then, I'll pick myself up and keep working.

Sleep began to creep on him, and he yawned, allowing his eyes to close.

For my friends.

For Dobby.

For Daphne.

June 19, 1993, flashed on the screen. Harry, under his invisibility cloak, made his way to the Mirror of Erised, just like he'd promised last year. When he finally arrived in the flame-lit room, he removed his cloak and approached, happy to see his heart's desire remained unchanged.

His mum and father were there, smiling and waving. He was there, older, standing next to an older Daphne. Their daughter was between them, smiling and waving happily at him. He sighed and took a seat, wrapping his cloak around his shoulders. It felt good, having an heirloom from his father around him.

"Hey, mum, dad," Harry said thickly. "Well. I made it. Another year."

He tried to fight the tears. He really did. But they came anyway.

"You won't believe what happened this year. It's a bit of a long story, really. But I think we have time."

And so, he told the mirror of all his experiences. His triumphs and failures. His fears, hopes and dreams.

"I couldn't save Ginny," he whispered sadly. "There wasn't time. Tom was too powerful."

His body shook and spasmed, causing him to hiss in displeasure.

"But I'm going to do better," he promised. "Next time you see me, I'll stand proudly. You'll be proud."

He stood and made ready to leave.

"Because I'm going to make this a reality," he pointed at the mirror. "I promise."

Harry turned and drew his hood back up, not looking back. The five within the mirror continued to smile and wave, before flickering and fading as he left.

June 20, 1993, appeared on screen. Harry was sitting alone in his compartment on the Hogwarts Express, reading a textbook. Outwardly, he appeared calm and collected. Inwardly, he was dreading another summer at the Dursley's. He flinched when the compartment door suddenly opened.

"Harry?"

He looked up at the familiar voice. Daphne stood in the doorway, looking as angelic as ever. His heart skipped a beat as she entered and closed the door behind her.

"Can I join you?"

He nodded dumbly as she took a seat beside him and sidled over until their shoulders were touching. Her wonderful scent permeated his nostrils, and he took a calming breath, basking in her presence. He felt her reach over and tentatively grab his hand.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," she whispered. "Ginny. I know you feel responsible."

Harry swallowed. He didn't want to talk about that. He didn't want to remember.

"If I was more pow-"

"Don't!" She cut him off, firmly. "It wasn't your fault. No matter what anyone says. Do you understand?"

He stared at her in surprise. "Y-yeah. Okay."

"Good," she stuck her head up imperiously. "Now, then, did father give you an answer regarding your request?"

It took Harry a minute to process her question. When it clicked, he blushed furiously.

"He said yes. So long as you are willing."

Daphne appeared extremely pleased, her own face taking on a heavy blush. She nodded demurely.

"Good."

They didn't speak another word. Just sat holding hands while the train continued on its path toward London. Eventually, Harry felt something wet on his shoulder and glanced to his left to see Daphne sound asleep with a small smile. A light trail of drool trickled from her mouth, causing him to chuckle softly and shake his head.

At least she's comfortable, he thought bemusedly.

"Dobby," he called softly. The house-elf appeared with a soft crack! "Can you bring a blanket?"

Dobby nodded and re-appeared seconds later with a fluffy blanket which Harry levitated over Daphne, before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her tight. She mumbled something incoherently and sighed contentedly. Harry wore a permanent smile for the rest of the trip. For the first time in weeks, his mind wasn't plagued with failures, what-ifs, or the summer. He was content.

Harry dozed off for a couple hours, only to awaken as the train began squeaking to a halt. A sinking feeling dropped to his stomach as he realized this sacred moment with Daphne had to end. Reluctantly, he shook her awake. She stubbornly refused until he told her they were here, at which she darted up.

Mortified, she noted the drool stain on his shirt.

"I- I-" she stammered. "I swear I don't usually do this!"

Harry laughed raucously, causing Daphne to turn blood red and start smacking his chest furiously.

"It's. Not. Funny. You. Prat!"

He finally relented, grabbing her hands and pulling her in for a hug.

"Maybe it's because you're comfortable," he posited.

"Whatever," she mumbled into his chest.

Harry took a deep breath, etching every memory of Daphne into his senses.

"I'll miss you, Daph," Harry whispered, stroking her hair gently.

She trembled before looking up at him with watery eyes.

"I'll miss you too," she smiled sadly.

"See you in September," Harry sighed and released her, feeling empty.

He grabbed his things and turned to go when he felt her tug on his cloak. He paused and turned as she hugged him brutally one final time and gently kissed him on the cheek.

"To remember me by," she whispered huskily. "You better come back, mister. You owe me a trip to Hogsmeade."

Harry grinned, not caring he was blushing.

"You got it."

It wasn't until he exited the train and looked for Vernon that a thought struck him.

How did Daphne grab my cloak?

The screen faded to black, and Astoria watched Daphne clutch her head in agitation.

"Daph?"

"I. Want. To. Remember." Daphne growled.

Astoria pulled her older sister in for a hug. Daphne's shoulders immediately began shaking as she wept.

"We'll get them back," Astoria said comfortingly. "Every memory, Daph. We'll undo everything that's happened."

Daphne shook her head defiantly.

"We will, Daph," Astoria frowned as her sister continued to deny her claim.

"He'll never forgive me, Tori," Daphne hiccupped. "I did the opposite of what I promised. I hurt him. I left him."

"Daph," Astoria sighed in exasperation. "You've probably been obliviated, had compulsion charms cast on you as well as confundus charms. I doubt Harry is going to hold that against you once we explain it to him."

"I called him a freak," Daphne said so quietly Astoria had to strain to hear her.

"You what?" Astoria gasped.

"In Potions…" Daphne sniffled. "I called him a freak, Tori. I'm no better than them."

July 2, 1993, flickered on the screen. Harry was getting a full dressing down by Vernon about the impending arrival of his Aunt Marge, arguably the foulest of the Dursley's. Harry wanted nothing to do with the hateful woman but didn't want to risk the wrath of Vernon for the time being.

"Do you understand, freak?" Vernon spat.

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied monotonously.

"Good," Vernon waved. "Off with you then. You'll begin dinner the moment Marge arrives."

Like hell I will, Harry thought. I'm getting the fuck out of here.

Harry shut his door and locked it, doubting it would do him any good. He had limited time and wanted to be out quickly. Twelve days at the Dursley's was enough for a lifetime. Harry was leaving. Damn the consequences.

He activated the shrinking rune on his trunk, wiped out the same rune from last year to deactivate the ward scheme, and pocketed the trunk. He let Hedwig go free. She'd been bored since there had been no incoming letters to respond to. Not that Harry expected any. Just because Daphne and he were getting closer didn't mean she'd be writing to him just yet. He knew her father had reluctantly agreed to him escorting her to Hogsmeade.

A final look around to ensure he had everything, and Harry pulled the hood of his cloak up and hopped out his window. He gently closed the window and dropped off the roof after a brief hang. Stifling a maniacal laugh, Harry slunk away to freedom. Thirty minutes later he felt safe enough to find a hidey hole to remove his cloak. No need to shock anyone by appearing out of thin air.

A deserted alley worked well enough. Harry ducked into it and pulled his hood down. He missed the giant black dog which had been tailing him since he'd left 4 Privet Drive. As soon as he was visible, he felt a great weight bowl him over and suddenly he was being attacked by the long, slobbery, tongue of the dog. Harry was unsure if he was scared, enraged or happy. The continued happy whining and incessant licking eventually drew out a defeated laugh.

"Down you mangy mutt!" Harry pleaded, shoving playfully.

The dog agreed, backing off, tail wagging furiously while he barked and turned in excited circles.

"Sweet Merlin," Harry chuckled. "You're monstrous!"

The creature was big. It almost looked like a grim, an omen of death mentioned in Newt Scamander's book. Harry found it odd the creature had found him. He was positive there had been nothing in the alleyway when he entered it.

"You've been following me, haven't you boy?" Harry scratched the dog's head.

It barked in reply, jumping slightly and nuzzling Harry. For his part, Harry furrowed his brow in thought. Something was off about this dog.

"You understand me?"

Another bark and jump. The dog licked Harry's hand.

"One bark for yes, two for no," Harry tried again. "You understand me, don't you?"

Woof!

Harry's eyes widened.

"You're an Animagus?"

Woof!

"Whoa," Harry breathed. "Why don't you transform?"

Bark! Bark!

The dog whined and shook its head. Then, it nudged Harry and moved away from him. Almost as if it was beckoning.

"You want me to follow you?" Harry questioned.

Bark!

He didn't know what made him do it. Maybe it was the fact that this Animagus hadn't done him any harm, even though it could have. He figured if it wanted him dead, he'd already be dead. There was also a familiar, fuzzy, warm feeling in his gut that he knew this dog. It was like an old friend greeting him. And, despite the little sliver of doubt in his consciousness, Harry wanted to know who this person was.

"Okay."

The dog barked again in joy and trotted off with Harry in tow. They went several blocks before veering off the sidewalk into an empty drainage canal. The dog hopped into a large storm drain and melded with the darkness. Harry hesitated at the edge of the large drain.

That's it. I've gone nutters. I'm following a stranger into a storm drain.

He chuckled.

Where's that Gryffindor courage, Potter?!

Harry climbed into the storm drain and followed it for a while until he came into a larger room with stagnant water. The dog was sitting expectantly, tail wagging. The room was dimly lit from the sunlight outside, and Harry could hear water dripping lazily, echoing around him.

"Okay," he said softly, the acoustics of the room caused his voice to be unnaturally loud in his ears, and he winced. "I've followed you. Now who are you?"

The dog began transforming, and soon a tall, lanky, man with straggly shoulder-length hair and a sunken appearance stood before him. The shadows made the hollow eyes the man sported look even crazier than Harry he imagined the man would look in daylight. Harry also noted the man wore black and white striped, tattered, clothing. Even though his hairs set on edge, the sight of the man nearly knocked him off his feet, as a slew of flashes erupted in his mind, bringing snippets of memories he never knew he had within to the forefront.

"Pa'foo?" Harry muttered confusedly.

And the man's knees buckled, and he fell to the concrete ground without a care, a wracking sob bursting from his chest. He crawled to Harry and wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him with all he was worth. To Harry's surprise, he didn't flinch at the touch.

"Thank Merlin!" the man cried. "I thought you wouldn't remember!"

Harry swallowed, unsure how to respond.

"Wh-who are you?" He tried. "How did you follow me?"

"I'm your Godfather, Harry," the man revealed. "And I am so sorry that I've not been there for you. I'm very familiar with that cloak. It belonged to James. Funny thing, it doesn't mask your smell or footsteps. I followed you with my ears and nose."

Harry swooned on his feet, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and sick. He felt the man stand and steady him.

"Easy, pup," the man comforted. "I promise I'll tell you everything. But not here."

Harry choked on the emotions raging within. "Where have you been?"

"Not here, Harry."

Two hands fell on Harry's shoulders as the man lowered his face to be level with Harry's.

"I need you to trust me, Harry," the man pleaded. "We have to go somewhere safe; do you understand? I promise I'll tell you everything once we're there."

This is crazy! Harry screamed within. Who the hell is this man?! Why do I feel like I know him?! Why do I feel so happy?! I should be terrified!

He couldn't speak. All he could do was nod dumbly. And then he felt the familiar sensation of being squeezed through a tube and he appeared outside a large muggle townhouse somewhere in London. The man instructed him to wait there under his cloak as he changed the wards and vanished within. The door eventually opened and, resigned, Harry stepped forward while lowering the hood on his cloak as the door creaked closed behind him.

"Holy shite," Astoria gasped in shock as she watched Sirius Black reveal himself on screen.

Daphne nodded, mouth agape, in agreement.

That's why he came back so different, Daphne thought. He was learning from Black. Which means everything we thought we knew about the man was probably wrong or a lie.

She looked over at the staff table. Dumbledore had gone pale but remained impassive. His blue eyes had taken a hard look. Snape appeared angered and disgusted; a sneer plastered on his face. McGonagall and Flitwick looked surprised. There was a palpable tension at the staff table, Daphne observed. She grabbed Astoria's hand instinctively.

The rest of the great hall had exploded into disbelieving chatter. The fact that Harry Potter willingly went along with Sirius Black had shocked the viewers. Reporters were scribbling furiously on parchment.

"Sweet Morgana, Daph," Astoria whispered loud enough for Daphne to hear. "That means Harry really is Lord Black now."

Daphne blinked.

"What Croaker said," Astoria reminded her older sister. "He's been calling Harry 'Lord Potter-Black' this whole time."

Well fuck. Daphne thought. It's bad enough that I clearly fancied him and ruined it. Now I get the added bonus of him having a dual lordship. I can count on two hands how many people could make that claim in recent history.

An image of the little blonde-haired blue-eyed girl from the Mirror of Erised flashed in Daphne's mind.

Why do I keep thinking of her? Daphne thought miserably. That's Harry's heart's desire.

Tears began falling onto her lap as she stared blankly ahead.

Or is it my desire too?

"I know you don't really remember me, Harry," the man said once the door was closed.

Harry looked around the dark hallway. The air was musty and smelled of mold and mildew. The house appeared abandoned.

"Where are we?" Harry questioned.

"Where I grew up," the man replied. "I'm Sirius, by the way. Sirius Black. I'm also called Padfoot, but you always called me-"

"Pa'foo," Harry finished.

Sirius choked up. "Yeah, that's it."

Harry stared at the man. His Godfather. He felt tired and drained by the revelation. Before him was a link to his past and parents. And while there were so many questions he wanted to ask, there was only one that mattered to him right now.

"Where have you been, Sirius?"

Sirius sighed heavily and offered a grimace. "Let's talk in the kitchen, Harry. Oh, and try to not make too much noise as we pass the stairwell. My mother hangs at the base of it and she's a right bitch. Hates me almost as much as she hates non purebloods."

Harry followed silently, figuring he could explore that conversation further later. The two entered the dusty kitchen and Sirius busied himself making tea. Even though it had obviously been years since anyone had been here, he moved with a familiarity about the kitchen.

"This is the ancestral home of the Blacks, you know," Sirius informed conversationally. "Never felt like home to me, though."

"I can relate," Harry said numbly.

Sirius flinched. "I've seen enough over the last couple days, Harry. We can discuss your life with the Dursley's when you're ready. If it's any comfort, James and Lily would never have left you with Petunia. We're going to figure out why you were there and not with your Godmother, Aria Greengrass."

"WHAT?!" Astoria shrieked at the revelation. Every head in the great hall turned toward the Greengrass sisters before rapidly returning to the unfolding drama on screen.

Harry stiffened. "Daphne's mum is my Godmother?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "Daphne Greengrass? You know her?"

Harry blushed. "She's my friend."

A cup of tea was placed in front of Harry. He stared at it. Sirius took a seat from him and sipped at his own cup slowly, hissing at the temperature.

"Take a minute on that," he gestured to the cup. "It's damn hot."

Harry nodded.

"You and Daphne were born pretty close to each other," Sirius reminisced aloud. "I swear Lily was beside herself when Aria had a girl. They were convinced it was fate that she had a boy. James had to practically beat Aria off with a stick so he could explain the Potter family magic to your mum."

Harry frowned. "Family magic?"

"Merlin's balls," Sirius swore. "There is so much to educate you on. Let's start with your original question, and we'll build from there. Sound fair?"

Harry shrugged. "Yeah."

"I've been in Azkaban for the last eleven years and some change. Ever heard of Azkaban?"

"It's a prison, right?"

"Right in one," Sirius sipped his tea. "The worst kind of prison, Harry. I daresay hell would be more pleasant than Azkaban."

Harry shivered. "Why were you there? I figure that's why you look so gaunt and are wearing prisoner clothes."

Sirius smirked. "I'm surprised you recognized I'm a convict and didn't flee or draw your wand."

"Didn't feel right to me," Harry revealed. "There was a familiarity about you. My gut said you were safe."

Sirius visibly sagged in relief. "Thank Merlin I spent so much time with you as a baby, Harry. I think it's what you are remembering. I'll be happy to share those memories with you later."

Harry toothlessly smiled in return and nodded. "I'd like that."

"I think it'll be faster if I show you what happened," Sirius mused aloud. "I doubt you've been made aware, having been locked in the Dursley's the past twelve days, but the Daily Prophet has been going berserk with me having broken out of Azkaban. So, you're currently sitting across from an accused mass murderer."

Sirius expected several different reactions. Harry belly laughing wasn't one of them.

"If that were true, I'd have already been dead," Harry finally gasped out. "You've had ample opportunity to kill me."

"You are Lily's son," Sirius smiled. "Merlin, I miss her and James."

"Me too," Harry sobered quickly. "Not that I remember them much."

"We'll fix that, Harry," Sirius promised. "First, let's get you acclimated with what happened the night Voldemort murdered your parents."

"C-can we not?" Harry pleaded. "I-I don't want to see that right now."

"Sure, pup," Sirius hesitated. "You'll need to see it eventually, though. It's the only way I can answer your question of why I didn't escape sooner."

"Later," Harry assured. "I have more questions."

"Fire away."

"I've met Mrs. Greengrass before, when I first came in to Diagon Alley with Hagrid-"

"Hagrid?" Sirius interrupted. "Not Minerva?"

Harry shook his head.

"Shit," Sirius muttered. "I need to see this. Hold that thought. Kreacher!"

An ugly, old, house-elf appeared in the kitchen with them. He was ragged and filthy and uttering the most profane insults Harry had ever heard.

"Filthy blood traitor calls Kreacher," the elf moaned. "If Mistress could only see. Mistress would never allow filthy mudbloods in her home."

"Kreacher!" Sirius barked. "Shut up. You are not allowed to insult myself or Harry any further."

The elf's mouth snapped shut and he scowled.

"And I forbid you from using the word mudblood!" Sirius continued.

Kreacher opened his mouth.

"And blood traitor!" Sirius added quickly.

The old elf started beating the floor, enraged. Sirius folded his arms and smirked.

"Now, go bring the pensieve from the study, Kreacher."

With hateful eyes, the elf stood and snapped. A few seconds later, a medium-sized stone basin appeared on the table.

"That will be all, Kreacher," Sirius dismissed the elf who vanished with a snap.

Sirius sighed. "No clue what we're going to do about food. Kreacher's liable to poison us both."

Harry had an idea. "I think I can help there. Dobby!"

Dobby appeared, ecstatic at being called. "The Great Harry Potter calls Dobby and Dobby answers!"

Harry chuckled. "Dobby, can you stay here with me this summer? We could really use the help around the house."

"Dobby can do!" Dobby jumped for joy.

"Great! This is my Godfather, Sirius Black," Harry introduced Sirius who waved. "Sirius, this is Dobby, a Free Elf."

"Nice to meet you, Dobby," Sirius greeted.

"Dobby is unworthy!" The house elf sobbed. "To be greeted by the Godfather of the Great Harry Potter!"

"Uh, right," Harry cleared his throat. "There's also an elf here named Kreacher. Please be nice to him and make sure he doesn't do anything nefarious. Also, if you could fix us up some dinner that would be great."

Dobby saluted and vanished with a crack!

Sirius chuckled. "Excitable fellow, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," Harry sighed. "He tried to get me expelled all year because I was in danger. Turns out he was right. Voldemort opened the Chamber of Secrets and it contained a basilisk."

Sirius paled. "A what now?"

"A basilisk," Harry repeated.

"And you fought it?"

"Yeah," Harry said nonchalantly.

"I have so many questions," Sirius blinked.

"Me too," Harry returned.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Neither stared at anything in particular. Dobby brought some sandwiches which they absently munched on. Finally, Sirius caved.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do. We're going to attack this chronologically. It's the only way we can both stay on track and cover the numerous questions we both have. Unfortunately, that means we have to start with what happened the night Voldemort struck."

Harry winced but acquiesced. So, Sirius began narrating as he pulled memories from his mind. The silvery strands swirled within the pensieve, and Harry's mind was soon swimming with words like Fidelius, Secret-Keeper, and Prophecy.

"So, mum and dad learned of a prophecy that involved Voldemort and me?" Harry questioned. "And because of that, they went under the Fidelius Charm and used Peter Pettigrew as the Secret-Keeper at your request?"

"Right," Sirius affirmed. "We thought I would be too obvious a choice. I would have died rather than betray your parents. No one suspected Peter would know. So, we made the switch at the last moment."

Harry paused in thought. "But you said that Dumbledore cast the spell, yeah?"

Sirius's face darkened. He nodded grimly.

"Wouldn't that mean he knew Peter was the Secret-Keeper?"

"Correct."

"So, if he knew that Peter was the Secret-Keeper, then why did you spend the last eleven years in Azkaban?" Harry asked.

"That," Sirius began, "is the question, Harry. One I hope we both can answer by reviewing what's been going on these past eleven years."

"Do you think it has something to do with the prophecy you mentioned?" Harry posited.

Sirius shrugged. "It's difficult to say. I never heard the prophecy, just knew of it. James said it was far safer that I didn't know what it said."

"But how did Voldemort find out about it?" Harry questioned in confusion. "If dad didn't tell you, why would he have told Peter?"

Sirius chuckled. "Merlin, kid," he shook his head. "You are as sharp as your mother. Lily would be so proud of you, pup."

Harry flushed at the praise.

"I found this bit out in Azkaban," Sirius scowled. "When Voldemort failed to kill you, his inner circle went into disarray and many were eventually captured, tried, and sentenced to Azkaban. Since I was assumed one of the top Death Eaters, I got to share a cell adjacent to many actual Death Eaters. It was from them that I eventually learned Severus Snape overheard the prophecy and fed it to Voldemort. Coupled with Peter's betrayal, it led Voldemort right to James and Lily."

Harry felt a weight drop into his stomach. "What? Snape is the reason my parents are dead?"

"How do you know Snivellus, Harry?"

"He teaches Potions at Hogwarts."

"WHAT?!" Sirius stood suddenly, knocking his tea over.

He immediately began pacing and swearing up a storm. Harry desperately wanted to do the same but was laced with so much confusion he was unsure how he wanted to feel or react at the moment.

In the great hall, chaos erupted. Every staff member had their wands out and trained on both Dumbledore and Snape. Dumbledore stood defiantly with an opaque, but strong, shield around him and Snape.

"Tell me it isn't true, Albus!" McGonagall said tersely. "Tell me you didn't actually know and sentenced Sirius Black to Azkaban. Tell me you aren't employing the man who is responsible for my two cubs being dead and Harry Potter's hellish life!"

"Minerva, I promise there is an explanation," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"These are but lies from a deluded boy with visions of grandeur," Snape interjected silkily.

"These are memories certified by the Department of Mysteries and their Head Unspeakable, Croaker," Flitwick corrected. "Tread carefully, Severus. Your campaign of hatred against Harry has been well-noted by us through the years. His memories only serve to verify what I have long suspected."

"It was no secret you hated the Marauders," McGonagall agreed. "And they hated you."

"There is no point in this, Minerva and Filius," Dumbledore said with an edge to his tone. "This experience will never end if we stand here and bicker. I have my reasons for my actions, and I will be happy to share them with you once we are free from this room. Until then, I suggest we temper our rising emotions, for the time being, and address them later."

"This is not finished, Albus," McGonagall sniffed. "And Morgana help both you and Severus if what we are witnessing is true. I will see you both in Azkaban if your reasoning is insufficient."

"Then I find it fortuitous that my reasoning is sound," Dumbledore kept an even tone.

McGonagall and Flitwick shared a look with each other, then nodded at the other professors who stood with them. Wands were stowed, Dumbledore lowered his shield, and they returned to their seats. The students in the great hall whispered amongst themselves as Harry's memory continued.

"That pasty-faced, greasy-haired, hooked nose fucker is teaching at Hogwarts?!" Sirius ranted.

Harry nodded.

Sirius took a deep, calming breath, and returned to his seat. "You need to see this, Harry. Just stick your finger into the bowl."

Harry complied and was transported within the memory. He returned several minutes later, tears streaking down his eyes. Sirius was weeping unashamedly.

"It was the worst day of my life," he sobbed.

"So, Dumbledore sent you after Peter," Harry murmured emotionlessly.

"And when I cornered him, well, you saw…" Sirius trailed off. "Thirteen muggles dead. A finger which he cut off left. I was sent to Azkaban without a trial."

"Because you said you killed them."

"Which I as good as did," Sirius nodded. "I convinced James to make the switch. I didn't think about the fact that Dumbledore knew. I didn't realize he betrayed me. When the aurors arrested me, I was so shocked I said I killed them. They took that as a confession, and I didn't even get a trial."

"But you were there first," Harry pointed out. "You pulled me out of that crib."

"And then I gave you to Hagrid," Sirius whispered thickly. "I've made so many mistakes in my life, Harry. But none come close to the mistake I made the night I handed you over."

Sirius began to weep brokenly. He didn't stop until Harry took a seat beside him and side-hugged him. Sirius embraced his Godson and pat his back as he pulled himself together.

"Well, you're here now," Harry offered.

"And I'm not going anywhere," Sirius promised. "You're stuck with me, pup."

Harry gave his first genuine smile of the night. "Good."

"Now I want you to show me everything up until tonight, pup," Sirius requested. "I'll teach you how to pull the memories. Leave nothing out. It's imperative that I try and understand what's been going on and if Dumbledore has slipped and tipped his hand."

Harry complied, and staunchly refused to join Sirius in the memories of his years before Hogwarts. When Sirius exited the pensieve, he was beyond livid.

"The unforgivable curses are too good for them," Sirius swore. "I swear, I'll go murder them right now."

"No!" Harry cried. "If you do, then Dumbledore will know. Then what?"

Sirius growled and sat down reluctantly. "Once I'm free, the Dursley's will suffer every injustice they've ever put upon you, pup. Then, and only then, will they be granted the mercy of death."

"Can we not talk about them right now?" Harry requested. "I'm more curious about my Godmother."

Sirius huffed. "That's a tough nut to crack," he admitted. "From what I saw, Aria recognized you. However, her reaction left much to be desired. I'm not exaggerating when I say that Aria and Lily were thick as thieves. They had big plans for you and Daphne. I'm talking marriage contract plans. It was James that kept that from going forward. I never got the full details on why he was so against it, just that it was family magic."

"What is family magic?" Harry queried.

"Well, it's exactly as it sounds," Sirius rubbed his chin. "Family magic is magic that is specific to a family. For example, Black family magic revolves around the Dark Arts. Much like our name implies, we're not a good family. I was always the white sheep of the Black family, being a Gryffindor and all."

"So, the Potters have family magic?" Harry was still confused.

"Every magical family that sits on the Wizengamot has magic unique to them," Sirius affirmed. "So, yes, the Potters have family magic also."

"And the Black family magic is Dark Arts related?"

"We practically invented the Dark Arts," Sirius chuckled. "A lot of what is in the upstairs library is exclusive to us."

"Then you don't know what my family magic is," Harry stated more than questioned.

"I have an idea, but only because James hinted at it from time to time," Sirius grinned.

"And?"

Sirius stood and stretched, refilling his tea before returning and taking a sip.

"Listen, pup," Sirius began. "I knew James since he was a kid, long before Hogwarts. We were good friends. The Blacks and Potters were close. Arcturus Black and Charlus Potter were brothers-in-arms, having both fought against Grindelwald at the height of his power. You know who Grindelwald is, yeah?"

"Magic is Might," Harry nodded.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Sirius grinned. "So, like I said, James and I were brothers in everything but blood since we were in nappies. He's the primary reason I went to Gryffindor. I practically demanded the hat put me there."

Harry almost spat out his tea.

"I did the same!" He gasped. "The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I told it no because of Malfoy."

"Slytherin?" Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I'll show you later," Harry shook his head.

"Right. At any rate, close. You get it?"

"I get it," Harry huffed. "Move on."

"Sorry," Sirius chuckled. "When James first saw your mum, it was as if Cupid himself hit him in the heart, or balls-"

"Ugh!" Harry groaned.

Sirius cackled. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"Get on with it, you mangy mutt!"

"Oi! I resemble that remark."

"I swear to Merlin," Harry fumbled for his wand.

"James was stricken. I'd never seen anything like it. On the Express we had both promised to land as many pretty birds as possible. When Lily Evans was sorted, James had this thunderstruck expression on his face. I knew, right then, that our promise amounted to nothing. I still gave it my best, mind you, but James had eyes only for your mother. No one else."

Sirius wore a wistful expression.

"What does that have to do with Potter family magic?" Harry groused. "And what do you mean land pretty birds? You mean like make friends?"

Sirius blinked. "Oh. Dear. God. You've had the talk, right pup?"

"What talk?"

"You know. THE talk. Birds and the bees. Flowers and pollination and stuff?"

"You've lost me," Harry admitted.

"Ah, shite." Sirius grumbled. "Stay here. I'll be right back."

Harry watched Sirius tiptoe upstairs. He was gone for a good five minutes before he returned with a thick book which he smacked down on the table and began turning.

"V…Va…" He muttered, flipping through pages.

There was a collective gasp in the great hall as students began muttering and blushing. The staff wore mixed expressions. When Harry appeared on the screen grinning in his chair, there was a general sigh of relief.

"You didn't honestly think I would subject you to all of that?" Harry questioned. "Although I should. Merlin knows it was the most embarrassing conversation of my life."

In the background, a high-pitched, distorted laugh could be heard.

"AHA!" Harry jumped up and pointed off-screen. "You heard it, right?! He laughed! Croaker laughed!"

"You're going barmy, Lord Potter-Black," Croaker deadpanned.

Harry scoffed. "Please. I was barmy after that discussion, let me tell you."

The screen returned to Sirius and Harry at the table.

"I'll never look at Daphne the same again," Harry muttered in shock.

"I'm sure you won't," Sirius chuckled.

"How can you talk about that stuff so- so- so-"

"Openly?"

"Well, yeah!" Harry spluttered.

"My years at Hogwarts were filled with-"

"Moving on!" Harry overruled.

"So, now that you know how babies are made…"

Harry fumbled for his wand while Sirius belly-laughed at him.

"Back on topic, pup!" Sirius chastened lightly. "Potters. Family magic. I'm confused why you're so frazzled."

"Merlin give me strength!" Harry prayed.

In the great hall, Astoria cackled loudly.

"You say the same thing!" She pointed at Daphne, who was beet red. "You two really are perfect for each other!"

"From what I've gathered, Potter family magic is heavily tied to bloodlines. Charlus was smitten with Dorea when he first saw her. He never looked at another woman. James was smitten with Lily when he first saw her. He never looked at another woman. You get where I'm going with this, pup?" Sirius gestured at Harry.

"I think so," Harry grunted.

"I saw it in the memory," Sirius reminded Harry. "When you looked at Miss Daphne Greengrass…"

"I've looked at no one else," Harry finished bluntly.

"Not a bad choice," Sirius assured. "Her mum is drop-dead gorgeous. She was one of the few who refuted my advances. Never did get what she saw in the Greengrass bloke, what was his name?"

Sirius snapped his fingers a couple of times.

"Cyrus! That's the one! Bit uptight, but decent enough bloke."

"Daphne says he's a hard man," Harry put in.

"War will do that to you," Sirius nodded sagely. "He was a bit of a stickler for the old ways."

"Old ways?" Harry scrunched his face in confusion.

"Something you will need to learn if you wish to woo your pretty bird."

"And who's going to teach me?" Harry snorted, gesturing at Sirius. "You?"

"Quite right. I am, after all, the Lord Black. There's a certain decorum that must be observed."

"Like shaggy, uncut hair, and hollowed eyes?" Harry deadpanned.

"I knew you got more than just James's dashing good looks!" Sirius crowed.

"Okay, so let's say that I've been, uh-"

"Hopelessly, irreversibly, head-over-heels infatuated with a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty?"

"She has golden blonde hair," Harry corrected before smacking his hand over his mouth.

Sirius laughed mockingly, falling off his chair to the floor.

In the great hall, Astoria giggled at Daphne, who had somehow turned even more red than before.

"Sweet Morgana, Daph!" Astoria snickered. "He never stood a chance!"

"I want to crawl into a hole and die," Daphne groaned.

"It is quite romantic though," Astoria sighed dreamily. "Did you hear him? Golden blonde hair!"

"Oh, shut up!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm just taking the mickey out of you, pup," Sirius wiped his eyes. "Feels good to laugh. Didn't get to do much of that for eleven years."

Harry winced. "Alright, you're basically saying that Daphne is my, what, soul mate?"

Sirius shrugged. "That's where I can't help you, pup. I don't know and will never know. I just know that Lily is likely crowing in victory at James right about now, because she knew, all along, that you and Daphne were meant to be."

"Did Aria know any of this?"

"I'm not sure." Sirius hummed in thought. "Probably some parts. Merlin knows she was just as excited as Lily to get that contract hammered out."

"Then why didn't she say anything when she saw me?" Harry questioned in exasperation. "Why didn't she come find me if she was my Godmother? You mean all this time I could have been raised in a loving, caring, home and instead I was sentenced to the equivalent of hell on earth?!"

"All very good questions," Sirius nodded. "Just remember that Dumbledore has a hand in all of this, pup. Sending me after Peter. Sending you to the Dursley's. Not fighting for me to have a trial. We're going to find out more tomorrow, I promise you."

"You think he prevented me from going to my Godmother," Harry stated.

"I wouldn't put it past him. It is clear that Dumbledore wanted you to go to the Dursley's. Why, I have no idea. But I do know that anything or anyone who stands in the way of his agenda can be moved. If Aria petitioned for you, it's highly likely she was Obliviated by Albus."

"And if she didn't?"

"Then there may be other players on the chess board, Harry," Sirius replied grimly. "Let's hope it's just the one."

"What are we doing tomorrow that is going to give us more information?" Harry questioned.

"Ah, we are going to Gringotts," Sirius informed. "The Goblin Nation is neutral, so once I'm there Wizarding Britain has no jurisdiction. I'll be able to walk freely and speak with the Black account manager, Ranlok. We'll also talk with the Potter account manager, Agnok."

Harry blinked. "I have an account manager?"

"You do, and a family vault, different from the trust vault you accessed with Hagrid," Sirius revealed. "That's part of what we need to investigate. You should be getting statements, investment reports, and mail. I'm sure Dumbledore has his hand in this."

Harry felt numb. And tired. And drained. Sirius could see his Godson wearing it heavily.

"Listen, pup," Sirius sighed. "Let's call it a night, yeah? You can take my brother's old room, it's across from mine. We can continue this journey tomorrow."

"Yeah," Harry agreed but hesitated as he stood. "Hey, Sirius?"

"Yep?"

"Do you…" He trailed off and scratched the back of his head nervously. "Are you sure there wasn't a marriage contract?"

To his credit, Sirius refrained from laughing or teasing Harry.

"Why, pup? Are you saying you'd like there to be?"

Harry closed his eyes for a second. Memories of Daphne flashed in his mind. Memories of the Mirror of Erised and what it revealed to be his innermost, deepest, desire. He gulped.

"Would you think me crazy if I said yes?" Harry asked weakly.

Sirius grinned. "If I hadn't grown up with James, then yeah, I'd say you were off your rocker. But, knowing what I know, nah, pup, you're not crazy."

Harry exhaled in relief.

"Just don't get too upset if it turns out there isn't a secret contract. Alright, pup?"

Harry followed his Godfather up the stairs, being extra quiet as they passed the landing. He paused at the door Sirius indicated and turned suddenly, hugging the shocked Sirius.

"Thank you, Sirius," Harry said tiredly. "For everything. I know this isn't how we wanted it to turn out. But I'm glad you're here now."

Sirius returned the hug and gave Harry a squeeze. "Me too, kiddo."

"Night, Sirius," Harry called tiredly.

"Oi, pup." Sirius waited until Harry glanced over his shoulder. "You're not crazy, kiddo."

Harry gave a half-smile and opened his door.

"You're in love!" Sirius called with a laugh.