Albus Dumbledore sat at his desk, shuffling a few stacks of paper without actually having to touch them. He was tense. With each miserable day that passed, the dementors closed in. With each depressing day that passed, the Ministry became more insistent about the need for their presence. With each tiresome day that passed, he wondered whether they would be able to limp over the line and finish the school year. The Minister of Magic was communicating with him every hour now it felt, constantly wanting updates that Dumbledore couldn't provide. Sirius Black was still in hiding. The children were still in danger. He was still under pressure.

He wondered whether he could have done anything differently. This year, and the years that sat back in his memory like black clouds. Could he have done more to find Black? The convict had managed to get into Hogwarts twice, right under his nose. It was a miracle that no one had been hurt. And yet, there was a part of him that didn't want to view it as a miracle, but as a sign. A sign that he didn't know everything that was in play. He thought back on that terrible moment twelve years previous when he had been told of the Potters' fate and how he'd believed it didn't make sense. The evidence, the irrefutable evidence, had told him it had. As he looked back, staring into the middle distance in his office, he debated whether not knowing everything was actually a good thing, after years of convincing himself he did. Or perhaps this was just the thinking of an old man who hadn't lived a perfect life, and one of those blemishes had come back to haunt him.

So maybe it was exactly what he needed when the breeze picked up in the room. The breeze that couldn't possibly exist. He checked the windows first, noting that they were firmly closed. But the papers he'd just sorted blew around as crazily as cornish pixies, promptly followed by a wheezing and groaning that he had been fortunate to hear a few times. He stood up, straightening the hat upon his head that had become skewed at the unexpected arrival, and marvelled at the sight of the blue box appearing in the open space of his office. Even at his age, he could still be amazed at such feats. If he couldn't, that would be the sign that he needed to hang up his robes.

The doors opened and Matthew stumbled out, as Dumbledore might have expected. He was looking rather dishevelled, although the boy always seemed to have a wild side to his demeanour. Hermione following him out of the box didn't surprise him either after he'd caught them in their early morning rendezvous. It was good that the boy was opening up more to the people close to him, and Miss Granger was probably the ideal candidate to place that trust in. He was mainly going off school reports to make that assumption, but he had also seen the fire within her during the few teams they had been in the same room together. They would make a potent combination, for sure.

Dumbledore grew more nervous, however, when it was apparent that they weren't alone. Harry showing his face, a mixture of emotions seemingly battling in his head and heart, wasn't something that he'd anticipated just yet, and he prided himself on making fairly accurate predictions. He quickly had his wand out when the next two people emerged. Two ghosts, one somehow more impossible than the other. Sirius Black dragged Peter Pettigrew into the candle-lit room, a much softer light than the Tardis but one that made the rat sweat even more. He had a rope around his arms and torso. They'd been kind enough to keep his legs free, only because it was a shockingly long walk back to the console room after they'd been hiding.

"Mister Mormont…" Dumbledore began. Where could he possibly begin? "I think you all need to get away from these two men."

"Oh, Dumbledore," Sirius sighed. "You haven't changed over the years, have you? Are you not happy to see me?"

"I'm happy to see that it appears I have one less death on my conscience." The headmaster looked towards Pettigrew, who whimpered and wilted under his gaze. "It seems that a lot has happened that I haven't been privy to. And it seems that it has been up to these three students to be thrown right into the middle of it once again. I'd say that luck must be against you, yet you remain standing and…unharmed?" He scanned all three of them, waiting for them to nod their heads individually.

"But it was an extremely close run thing," Matthew told him. He could still feel his heart thundering from the werewolf chase. Or was that because Harry now wanted to know the entirety of the truth? "We've got Professor Lupin locked away inside. He's fine…perfectly fine…just a bit bigger and scarier than usual."

"You discovered his true identity?"

"We did that months ago," Hermione commented, as if her intelligence needed to be put on record. "Tonight was about his true identity accidentally showing itself in person."

"Well, I'm extremely relieved that you're all okay. I gather that a lot needs to be said. And such a conversation requires a modicum of comfort after the ordeal you've been put through." He produced four armchairs with a flourish. The children took them. Sirius remained standing.

"I don't feel comfortable accepting anything from you," he remarked, folding his arms. Harry wondered why there was so much animosity on show. Sirius was holding his ground. Pettigrew, who hadn't been offered any of that comfort, attempted to take a seat, but he was quickly tugged back and fell clumsily to the floor.

And so they told Dumbledore everything, the events of the night spilling out like some feverish dream. Truly, when it was said out loud, it sounded like an impossible fantasy that could have only been made up. But couldn't that be said of everything Harry had been through the past three years? They told the headmaster of Harry's attempts to save a pet that had been luring him into a trap, of his fierce first encounter with Sirius, and of Lupin's unexpected intervention. They told him of their obsession with a little rat, of Matthew and Hermione's chaotic rescue plan, of the Shrieking Shack's unfortunate demise. And, all the time, Dumbledore, having returned to the sanctuary of his desk, sat back and listened, his fingers steepled.

They left it to Sirius to explain what happened that fateful day twelve years in their past. Harry listened just as attentively and intently as the first time, like he was waiting for some of the details to have changed so he could catch Sirius out in his lies. But the retelling was the same, practically word for word, as if the convict had been practising recounting this narrative whilst stuck in prison. Dumbledore barely showed any reaction as the story deepened, as Pettigrew's deceit was laid to bare. The man in question never stopped looking around the room for any means of escape, but how could he possibly run from the greatest wizard of an age? Even his terrified murmurings had lessened as he became accepting of the fate that stood before him now.

Matthew was the one who explained how a werewolf had ended up inside the Tardis, how he had selflessly put the lives of everyone in the school above his own (his own words, not to brag). He detailed Lupin's advances through the dark and how Harry had stupidly and bravely put himself in harm's way just to help him. Matthew had given him a small smile for that, which was partially returned until Harry had remembered that there were scores still to be settled between them. Hermione gasped at most of his words, hoping that he was dramatising just how close the creature's jaws had gotten to him. From the guilty look on his face, she wasn't too optimistic. Once Harry had finished having words with him, she was going to be next in line. It was apparently going to be a busy night for Matthew, not that any of them felt like they could sleep. There was a sort of adrenaline rush coursing through them all, a colossal high after uncovering an unknown truth and warding off an indomitable foe.

"It shouldn't have been left to three students to deal with such a creature," Hermione commented. She quickly looked at the Tardis doors, as if her words would summon the wolf. "This could have happened much earlier in the year. It's a minor miracle that we were the ones to be around him when the change happened, and that we had somewhere to…store him, for lack of a better word." She was so enraged that her friends had been put in danger that she wasn't quite acknowledging that she was arguing with the great Albus Dumbledore. It would likely keep her awake later.

"Professor Lupin, it seems, was driven by his emotions for the first time this year, which caused him to forget to take the potion that normally keeps everyone safe," the headmaster returned. "Should we punish people for their emotions?"

"Frankly, it's a little more than emotions when the end result is a carnivorous beast."

"And yet, didn't you admit that you have known about the professor's hidden identity for quite some time?"

That put Hermione on the back foot, a position she never liked to be in. "Yes…well…that's different."

There was that twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, no malice or anger at being called out by someone a fraction of his age. In fact, he always enjoyed it when people were brave enough to do so. "Why did you keep that information to yourself if you truly believe that it was so dangerous."

Hermione looked over at Matthew, replaying the frantic conversation they'd had about it aboard the Tardis. "Because, as long as he was being careful and watching himself, Professor Lupin shouldn't be blamed or punished for what was done to him. He should be seen as the man he is, not the monster that plagues him."

"Do you not think that that was my line of thinking too? Do you not believe that I hired him because of his skill and charisma as a teacher? The way I view these events…they were a unique and extremely volatile set of circumstances that are very unlikely to happen again. And, with no one being harmed because of your quick thinking, we have managed to avoid the worst possible result from the worst possible situation. Would you not regard that as a minor victory?"

"And if Matthew or Harry had lost an arm, would you still be saying this?" The boys were incredibly shocked that she wasn't backing down. They were more proud (and slightly terrified) of her than ever before.

"Of course not, Miss Granger. But, having lived so long, I have discovered that it is a tricky enough world to live in already without adding hypotheticals." Dumbledore's gaze flickered over to Pettigrew, who had gone oddly silent. "And yet, for twelve years, I have been constantly wondering what I could have done differently to avoid the deaths of a brilliant couple, a street of unfortunate bystanders, and a foolish man who wanted retribution. It seemed my hypotheticals were astoundingly far from the truth."

The headmaster stood up, his face grave. There was even anger there, which Harry hadn't seen a lot from him before. He circled Pettigrew, whilst occasionally looking to Sirius. And, every time, he would find the other man's eyes firmly fixed on him, never leaving, never wandering. In his gaze, he was every bit the predator he'd become to survive. Harry was amazed that the wanted posters he'd been seeing for nearly a year, so terrifying as they were, hadn't been able to really capture just how feral the man had become.

"You do realise that I won't be able to just take your word for it," Dumbledore commented. His long robes flowed and billowed along the floor. He had a knack for commanding a room, even one so full of strong characters. "Veritaserum will likely have to be used. Your memories will need to be extracted and viewed as evidence."

"You mean you don't believe us?" Harry asked, dictated by the growing anger at such an obvious injustice. "How could we come up with a story like that? If Sirius was lying, then surely we'd all be dead by now. At least I would." It was the first time he had used the man's first name and he caught Sirius looking at him with a mixture of happiness and sadness.

"Harry, I can see the truth of the matter right before me. I have no doubt that you're not lying to me but that won't be enough to hold up in the courts. The wizarding world, as wondrous as it is, can be frustratingly blind to what is standing right in front of it. And overcoming a narrative that has lasted twelve years, seeping into the public consciousness…not to mention a narrative that has been purported by a virulent propaganda campaign this year…that is not going to come easy."

"Are you trying to convince us not to tell the world about Pettigrew and the truth?" He was on the verge of seething again.

"Precisely the opposite. I just thought that it was my duty to outline how difficult this process will be. There are people out there…people corrupted by the dark…people that have a great deal of political power…who will be willing to stand in your way. Which is why it's a good thing that you came to me first."

"You'll help us take this to court?"

"I like to believe that I have a certain amount of sway when it comes to convincing the powers that be. Even the Minister of Magic will not be able to deny the reality of the situation when he discovers Peter Pettigrew is still alive. And we are lucky that Amelia Bones is the head of Magical Law Enforcement. She's one of the fairest members of the Ministry, and will be sure to hear your stories out. It's just about convincing her colleagues. But, as Miss Granger alluded to just a few moments earlier, that is a matter that should be dealt with by the adults. I'm sure that you don't want to get bogged down by all the minuti of political engagement."

If Harry and Matthew knew anything, it was that Hermione would have loved that. But Harry wasn't exactly eager to be sidelined either. "Sir, if it's not too much to ask, I think we should be involved in some capacity. We were the ones involved, and the outcome will certainly impact me."

"I think you're getting me confused again," Dumbledore said with a smile. "I don't mean to push you away, just to keep you from all the tiresome boring bits. Your accounts of tonight's events will be the crucial evidence we need to ensure Mister Black gets the justice he deserves."

Harry was getting a bit excited. "You really think that he'll get to be a free man again?"

"As long as we have the evidence, the Ministry won't be able to stop that from happening. I'll do everything in my power to make that a reality."

All of a sudden, Sirius let loose a bark of laughter. They turned to look at him, all except Pettigrew, who was sobbing into the carpet. Dumbledore frowned at the chuckling man. "Is there something amusing that I said?"

"Twelve years…twelve years I waited in that hovel…twelve years you had to use that power you claim to hold, but you never chose to wield it? Why didn't you help me, Albus? You knew the truth!" He was shouting by the end of it, spittle flying from his lips.

Harry looked to the headmaster. "What's he talking about?"

Hermione stepped forward. "The act of creating a secret-keeper…it's a highly complex piece of magic, isn't that right? And Professor Dumbledore was the one tasked with performing it. If your mum and dad, Harry, chose to swap Mister Black with another person, then they would have needed him to agree."

"Which means that, barring me and Peter , he was the only one alive who knew the decision they made. He knew I wasn't the secret-keeper anymore. They locked me away for twelve years whilst he sat on that information."

"And what would you have had me done, Sirius? It was a decision that I regretted, allowing them to make that change. A decision that haunted me as clearly as the ghosts in this school. I knew it was a risk and I believed that it had massively backfired. But how could I have known that Peter Pettigrew was an agent of Lord Voldemort? How could I have worked that out when he was believed to have been killed by you? For all I knew, you manipulated the boy into revealing the location of the Potters and then killed him for good measure. Would that have truly been hard to believe?" Dumbledore had his arms crossed, a sign of defence.

His explanations were doing nothing to calm Sirius down. "You could have seen me in Azkaban. You could have listened to my side of events! But you never came!"

"Out of shame. Because, if I saw your face, it would not have been your eyes that looked upon me, but those of the people I had failed to keep alive. I'm not proud enough to deny the mistakes I've made. Maybe there was a part of me that didn't want to acknowledge you, for that would have been an acknowledgement of my role in what happened." The headmaster was keeping a good distance between him and Sirius, the children caught in between. "But if I had visited you, and I had listened to your story, how would you have proven it was true without the body? Without that key piece of evidence, your tale would have been viewed as the murmurings of a delusional man. I'm sorry, Sirius, I truly am. The only way I can possibly make up for my mistakes is by earning your freedom now."

"I don't want your help," Sirius spat. "I don't need your help. I will never forgive you."

"Then so be it," Dumbledore replied simply. "There is nothing I can do that will force you to forgive me, and that is something that I will have to live with, including the deaths of Lily and James Potter. But you can't prevent me from playing a part in what is to come."

"Don't be hasty," Harry intervened, stepping to the greasy-haired man. "You'll need the headmaster's support to have a chance of winning this."

"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," Sirius grumbled, almost petulantly, the first sign he'd shown of the man he had once been.

Harry took it as a begrudging acceptance, which was likely the best he could have hoped for. There was still tension in the room, particularly between the two oldest men, and Harry had no doubt more words would be had when they weren't there. But, instead of focusing on them, he found himself looking at Matthew in a similar way, eyes narrowed and scrutinising. His friend, for that was what he still was for the time being, appeared relaxed, leaning back in his cushioned chair, but Harry had known him long enough to understand when he was secretly on edge. And that was the crux of the matter - whether Harry actually knew him at all.

"It seems that everyone has done their explaining," he commented. "Everyone but you."

Matthew fidgeted in his chair. Even Hermione looked apprehensive, watching as the boy next to her slowly stood up. "I think this conversation would be best done in private, Harry."

"Why? Why should it not be done right here, right now?" There was that anger again, the frustration of being lied to for so long, mixed in with the growing lack of sleep. "Surely you've got nothing to hide. Hermione already knows, which is one of the other things I want to talk about. Even Professor Dumbledore knows, judging from the one thing he didn't even bat his eyelids at being that blue box."

"Tardis," Matthew felt he had to add, though it did nothing to improve Harry's mood.

"Tardis, yeah, whatever. You keep using that word as if I'm supposed to know what it means! I'm tired of being kept out of the loop. All I'm asking is that you finally be honest with me."

"I do want to be honest with you. I've always wanted that. I just thought that we could do this alone so that you get the same treatment as Hermione did."

"It's too late for that," Harry retorted and Matthew realised he was fighting a losing battle.

The boy wandered over to his box, leaning against the wooden frame, running a hand over his face. He'd known that this was coming this night, and yet he still wished there was more time to avoid it. But he also knew that Harry deserved this, after waiting for so long. Sure, he would have preferred a different set of circumstances, but life was never going to be as perfect as he'd imagined. He looked in Hermione's direction, forever a comforting presence for him. He could see the worry in her eyes as she saw her two friends battle it out, but she nodded her head ever so slightly, a show of support, a show of encouragement. An acknowledgement that she would be there no matter the outcome. Matthew was more grateful for that than even he knew.

"What do you want to know then?"

It turned out that Harry wanted to know everything, which didn't come as a complete surprise. And Matthew, constantly stepping around the room as if to distract himself from what he was saying, was perfectly willing to oblige. That was the thing that took Harry most by surprise. That and absolutely everything that came out of his mouth. He didn't respond as Matthew told him about the time machine that had gotten him safely from his home, but had broken down in the process. He didn't react as Matthew detailed his family origins and where his magical powers came from. His face began to fall as Matthew retold his family's fate and the feeling he'd had when he'd learnt he was trapped centuries after they'd died.

As Matthew spoke, everyone else kept quiet. Dumbledore returned to his table. Even Sirius sat down in one of the chairs, knowing this was no longer about him. The only interruption had been Pettigrew trying to use the obvious betrayal on show to his advantage, trying to convince Harry that he was no different from his friend. Matthew had silenced him so quickly with a wave of his hands that it was frankly terrifying. And, as he spoke, he continued to look to Hermione for that silent support. That was the bit that was growing on Harry's nerves. Not just the lies, or at least the hiding of the truth. The fact he'd been right about how they'd grown closer, and how he'd played a part in pushing them together by leaving them alone so frequently.

"As you can see, this doesn't change a lot about me," Matthew said in closing. "I can still perform magic. I'm still the same age. I just have a different background, but you've known that from the very beginning. Everything that has happened between us, that's been real."

"It's easy for you to say that though," Harry replied, looking at the floor. "Because you're not the one who's been lied to."

"I didn't lie to you. I just…didn tell you the whole truth."

Harry looked at Hermione, who was worrying at her bottom lip. "How did you react when he told you this? Has he told you everything that he told you?" He was making sure he was no longer being kept in the dark, though that was relying on Hermione telling him the truth. If he'd learnt anything this year, it was that friends had the capacity to hurt you with their lies more than anyone else.

"The exact same story," she said instantly, eager to support Matthew and just as eager to comfort Harry. It was a difficult tightrope to manage. "Trust me, I was listening out to make sure it was the same. As for how I reacted…it wasn't too dissimilar to you. I was confused…angry, for definite…but I knew deep down that it didn't change the way I viewed him. And I think that's the same way you're thinking." She hoped for that, at least.

"Why did you tell Hermione first?" Harry suddenly asked. He didn't look at Matthew, though the question was addressed to him.

Matthew looked between his two friends, tugging at both his arms. He didn't want to admit that one was winning. "Because…because I…" He couldn't say that , definitely not. Not when so much had already been said. There were some truths that had to come after the rest. "Because I wanted to. Because I wanted to finally tell someone instead of forever hiding in the dark. Because I trusted her." He could see Harry's expression clouding. "But that's not to say that I didn't trust you, nor that I didn't want to tell you. But you'd already been through so much. Hermione basically demanded to be told around the same time as you learnt about the story behind Sirius' incarceration. You were dealing with those lies and I didn't want to dump more onto you. That wouldn't have been fair."

"Oh, so it was a kindness?" There was a clear disbelieving tone to his voice.

"In a sense, yes, and I'm not going to apologise for that. You were struggling, which was perfectly acceptable. Answer me honestly…do you really think you could have managed hearing this straight after learning about Sirius?"

"That's not the point. It wasn't your decision to make, whether I was ready or not. You took that choice away from me. You didn't give me the option. But you folded as soon as Hermione so much as smiled at you."

Matthew bristled at that comment. So too, it seemed, did Hermione because she left her chair, standing by his side. "And what could you possibly mean by that?" Her arms were folded and Harry knew he'd said the wrong thing, but he didn't want to back down either.

She was held back by Matthew's hands positioned in a placating manner, before he turned back to Harry. "You can be angry at me, that's fine. But don't take any of this out on her. Hermione doesn't deserve that."

"And, as for him folding as soon as I asked…you know that is utter nonsense, Harry Potter! Three years of badgering him, it took. Three years. He only relented because I figured out some of it for myself, not because I smiled in a certain way or…or…anything else for that matter." Because, strictly speaking, the kiss had come after Matthew's explanation so that didn't need to be mentioned. Not yet. "I hoped you'd think more highly of me than that."

"Then what have you been doing behind my back?" Harry retorted, believing he'd caught them now.

"Teaching her about my magic!" Matthew replied tiredly. "She wanted to know more. She wanted to know how she could access it herself so that's what I've been doing. Training her, in a sense. The exact same training I'd be willing to give you, now that you know."

"Oh." Harry appeared to deflate.

"What did you think we were doing?" Hermione asked, a bit more gently now. He didn't answer. He didn't need to answer. His response was clear from his awkward body language.

"Well, it's nice to see that you inherited your father's jealousy," Sirius quipped before realising that now probably wasn't the best time for jokes. In any other circumstances, Harry would have loved to have heard more about how he was like his dad. Not now though.

Matthew stepped a few paces closer to him. "Harry, whatever you may think, we haven't been going behind your back. We're still very much a trio, just like that first day on the train…that's if you want that to be the case."

Harry's chest was rising and falling more steadily now, but the knowledge that everyone's eyes were on him, including the vermin that was Pettigrew, made him anxious still. "I want…I want time to process this." And he walked out of the room, leaving Matthew helpless behind. Hermione's hand slid into his, knowing that words wouldn't help.

Sirius looked at them both sympathetically. "I'll go have a word with him. If I may?" He looked to Dumbledore for permission. He was, after all, still technically a criminal. The headmaster nodded his head.

He found Harry sitting on the steps of the spiral staircase, evidently not wanting to put too much distance between himself and the rest of them. Without saying a word, Sirius lowered himself onto the same footholding. They didn't speak for a few moments. It wasn't exactly awkward between them, but it also wasn't comfortable. They were still strangers despite how closely they felt connected.

"You're free," Harry said numbly after a short while. "Now that we've turned in Pettigrew."

"I suppose you're right." Sirius was relieved that he'd initiated the conversation. "And do you know what that means?"

Harry shook his head. "You can have a proper meal again?"

"Well, yes, I'm certainly looking forward to that. But also…I don't know whether you've been told this but…I'm your godfather."

"Yeah…I…uh…I found that out."

"That role is often just a title but…your parents…they named me as your guardian…in case anything happened to them…"

Harry sat a little straighter. "Really?"

"Really. And I'll understand, of course, if you'd prefer to stay with your aunt and uncle…but…once my name's been cleared…if you wanted a change…a different home…"

Harry's head really couldn't comprehend much more that evening. "What? Live with you? Leave the Dursleys?"

Sirius messed with his unkempt beard. "Yeah, it does sound ridiculous now I've said it out loud. Sorry, I should have realised it wasn't a good idea…"

"Are you insane?" Harry hastily interrupted. That was probably a sore point now he thought about it. "I want to leave the Dursleys! I really, really do! Have you got a house? How soon could I move in?"

The man looked like he didn't know how to respond, as if it had never occurred to him that the boy would agree to the notion. "You're telling the truth?"

"Definitely!" Maybe the night wasn't going to be as terrible as it had seemed just a few moments ago. But that thought took him back to the conversation he'd just had, picturing Matthew and Hermione side by side. A few more beats of silence ticked by until Harry brought it up. "You know…if you're going to be my guardian…I'm going to have to come to you for advice."

Sirius wrinkled up his nose. "I guess that's a part of it, yes. Not that I'm going to be any good at it."

"Well…you saw what happened up there…what would you, as my guardian, tell me to do?"

"Is this a test?"

"Maybe? Do you think I should forgive Matthew?"

Sirius sighed. "It's a rather complicated matter, isn't it? For starters, I've only been able to watch your friendship from a fair distance. And some of the things he was saying…they were blowing me away, and I've been a part of the wizarding community for a lot longer than you. I've always wondered where magic came from, the sort of passing curiosity that I was never too interested in to actually look into. I never thought it stemmed from such a confident young boy."

"Do you think he's telling the truth?"

"I think it'd be a pretty strange lie to come up with. And, for all his faults, Dumbledore wouldn't believe him without evidence. I suppose that's why he never thought to believe Peter could be alive, the pure lack of evidence." He got lost in thought, only snapping out of it when he remembered Harry was there, and that this was about him. Being a guardian was going to take some getting used to. "Although I watched from a distance, I could tell that your small group was connected by a strong bond. Always together…"

"Apparently not, if they were able to do all this training without me knowing."

"They were learning something new at the same time as you were. I don't think they abandoned you. I know it may feel that way. But…take it from me…when you're truly betrayed, you'll know it. And you won't want to give the other person the time of day. The fact that you're so confused by this, so unwilling to actually leave them, says a lot, does it not?"

Harry put his head in his hands. "What do you think I should do then?"

Sirius risked rubbing his back, the first act of real contact they'd shared. He did his best not to get emotional. "After everything you've heard tonight…after everything you and I have been through…I think we've learnt that holding onto healthy friendships is crucial in surviving these lives we lead."