Disclaimer: I own nothing other than the plot. The original concepts belong to JKR and Warner Brothers. Any concepts brought from other fictions are either coincidental or will be used in their own way, and no plagiarism is meant.

A/N: I am going on the common approach to Harry's childhood. In the books, it is unsaid but hinted at minor physical abuse, consistent neglect in terms of care and support emotionally, and some emotional abuse. Many of you may disagree with taking this approach, but I firmly believe that this childhood is what reinforced Harry's determination to be better than his childhood guardians and later to be better than Tom Riddle, also making him equal in a sense of their childhood as well, per the original prophecy.

It also offers leading support to why he feels protective of Luna and Hermione. Both of whom were bullied, and to why he was always trying to protect people from harm even at risk to himself as he was harmed when he was powerless to stop it at times.

Chapter 14: A Headmaster's Regret

February 14th, 1994

Great Hall, Hogwarts

Harry sat quietly as everyone ate breakfast like normal. He and Sirius had spent a long time just talking, mostly about the less important good memories he had of the last timeline. It left him feeling drained, but also much less tense, as if he had let go of something he had been containing for months.

Which was true. He had held perhaps the biggest secret ever for over six months, and it hadn't been easy, especially with the constant reminders everywhere. He had done it though, and it had felt so liberating to tell someone. Sirius had understood his mood and his tiredness, allowing him to avoid the more painful memories as they talked for a little while longer. Of course, before he left, Sirius had done something Harry hadn't quite understood.

He had made the entire thing a Black Family Secret.

Sirius had given him a ten second explanation, basically saying that magic would prevent either of them from sharing the secret through means of truth serum or legilimency, making it to where they could only share it willingly. Harry had made sure that Sirius knew to never tell a soul, but it allowed it to where if someone needed to know, Sirius could tell them for him.

Needless to say, he returned to his bed a little early, and passed out. He woke up tired as could be, having skipped his morning workout, and currently the only thing driving him was the hot tea with several sugars more than he would ever normally consume.

It was his third cup too…

He nearly choked on his piece of toast when more than a hundred owls flew in, many carrying rolled up copies of the Daily Prophet, while others carried letters from parents. He quickly paid for his own copy, something he had done for a few months, before looking at the front page.

Sirius Black: His Oath of Innocence!

Peter Pettigrew: Traitor of the Potters?

Amelia Bones speaks! Confirms Black's Innocence!

Harry laughed, reading the article. The first page gave an overview of everything, including his meeting with Amelia, stating that he had been in contact with Sirius for months while the document from Gringotts was on the second page. There was a statement at the bottom of the first page saying an Emergency Wizengamot meeting was occurring that evening, called by Amelia and Fudge.

"Harry? Is this true?" Hermione asked, drawing his attention to her. She was sharing a copy between herself, Ron, and Hannah. Susan took his copy as he went to speak.

"I want that back when you're done!" Harry exclaimed to the girl. "And yes. It was the meeting I had yesterday."

"And you didn't tell us?" Ron demanded. It was clear that this was going to quickly devolve into an argument between them, something he knew would happen but wasn't about to try to prevent ahead of time.

"No." Harry rubbed his temples. "Firstly, you never would have believed me that he was innocent, and secondly, that he wanted no one to know yet. He had a plan, one wonderfully executed as he is already deemed as free."

"But… Harry. You tell us everything." Hermione muttered, a hurt expression on her face.

"Not everything is yours to know, Hermione. You know I am private about my home life. This is something towards that, magicals call it Family Business." Harry answered, "Besides, it wasn't that I didn't trust you, but that you likely wouldn't have trusted me. Like the firebolt. It was sent from Sirius. What would you have done if I hadn't said it was purchased by my dad?"

He saw the look of regret on her face, her gaze falling towards the table as she admitted the harsh truth, "Told McGonagall… I almost did anyway because your lie wasn't very convincing."

"And you want me to believe you would have accepted my word that Sirius was innocent?" She saw the glaring hole in the argument, and her face fell further, a pained expression coming from the unspoken admission.

"I'm sorry. I should've had more faith in you. Did you at least tell Professor Dumbledore?" She asked hopefully. Harry snorted, causing her gaze to snap up and meet his own.

"No."

"No?" Not just Hermione was shocked, but so was Ron and Hannah. Susan seemed indifferent, while Neville just nodded in understanding.

"Understandable." the boy said. "I wouldn't have told him either."

"What? Neville! You can't mean that!" Hermione nearly screeched. A dozen people were listening in, and while it wasn't the best place, it seemed this was going to be the place this argument was going to take.

"Excluding that the man has no business knowing, as it was Family Business, just think about everything that Harry has gone through since he got here. He was nearly killed repeatedly, bitten by a basilisk which should never have even been remotely possible, and despite our Headmaster's assurances that this is the safest place, you were almost killed by a troll as a first year." Neville argued, causing muttering to break out in the area, "I'd be hesitant to trust a man that has nearly killed me and my friends with the life of my godfather. Especially if he was even remotely involved in the fact he spent nearly twelve years in Azkaban wrongly."

There was a silence falling around the hall, and Harry could see Hermione's eyes flitting between him, Neville, and someone else. He had an inkling of who the other person was, but he didn't care as he spoke.

"I don't believe he knew the truth as he wasn't involved in knowing the diversion, Nev, but Sirius and I agreed to do this alone." Harry said softly. "Mum casted the charm with only my dad, Sirius, and the traitor present. Sirius gave him the written secret to keep up the appearance, as he did with several others. I'd like to believe Dumbledore is innocent in the matters, but neither he nor I could believe that with all of the knowledge available to him that he didn't have some suspicion of Sirius' supposed guilt."

A near truth, in Harry's opinion, as Harry knew that the man wasn't completely innocent in the matters. After all, he still could have ensured Sirius was actually guilty before condemning the man to Azkaban for eleven years.

"I still stand in agreement with not taking the risk." Neville said firmly.

"Me too. I'd like to believe he was acting as he thought was best, but it'll be a discussion between him and I, and possibly you. I can't help but wonder why both of our families were such targets." Harry said softly.

Despite knowing the truth, he had to ensure that no one else knew that he knew the truth. Asking the questions and voicing the suspicions were a part of that.

On top of that, Neville was his godbrother, and strong in his own manner. Harry remembered the boy that fought in the final battle, going after people stronger and better than him and surviving, if not winning. If he could build Neville up like he was building himself, it'd be all the better.

"You both can't be serious?" Ron said disbelievingly, his eyes flitting past Harry and Susan. "Dumbledore is a great man."

"And great men make even greater mistakes, Mister Weasley, though I thank you for defending me. I seem to have made a great many recently, and it seems each one I make is worse than the previous." Said the soft, yet powerful voice of the man they were discussing. Harry almost smiled at his guess of Dumbledore's presence.

Harry looked at the man, who's eyes bore a slightly hurt, yet understanding expression from what he overheard. "Professor."

"Come, Mister Potter, and you as well, Mister Longbottom."

"Me?" Neville squeaked.

"Yes. It seems you will get your answers from Mister Potter regardless, so at least, I should be the one to give them to you anyways." Dumbledore said softly. "Come along. Minerva!"

The four made their way up to Dumbledore's office on the third floor. Harry could only watch the headmaster closely, his mind spinning at the sudden meeting and guilt in the older man's eyes. Yet, his mind also took in the older man, how at this point, he seemed so much stronger, so much younger compared to the last two years of his life. Perhaps the likely lack of sleep, followed by dueling Voldemort and then the curse had really aged him quickly. After all, he was currently at least a hundred and ten years old. Dumbledore seemed barely over what muggles would be like at seventy and in good health, only with a few more wrinkles and less joint problems.

'I wonder what decides longevity.' Harry's mind thought absently, his nerves diverting his attention while it could on the spontaneously random thought, 'Is it linked to magical power and how well it keeps the body? Or possibly ancestry. After all, Moody is in his seventies and seems to be only ten years younger, but Moody is a pureblood and less powerful than Dumbledore.'

Harry continued to wonder about the intricacies of aging. Magicals hit puberty at a younger age, both boys and girls starting by the age of eleven and finishing before they were seventeen, though their magical strength and potential grew until they were twenty seven. They were also healthier on average and susceptible to less illnesses like cancer or organ failure, while having an equal number of medical issues that they were prone to.

But what decides the body's natural longevity? Obviously inbreeding would reduce it, but did magical ancestry play a role, or was it only magical power? Were those born to muggles shorter lived than a pureblood with as little inbreeding as possible? Did potions or location of their living affect it, both in terms of natural magical concentration and in terms of non-magical pollution.

He was forced to abandon the complicated and likely impossible to answer line of thinking as the gargoyle moved without a password, allowing them to make the short climb up the stairs. The office looked similar to how it had before the end of Harry's fifth year, and far more familiar than it had the last time he had been in the room in his last hours of life in the war.

"How much had you heard, sir?" Neville asked timidly.

Dumbledore only looked up as he sat down, smiling at Neville. "I was within hearing range when your friends seemed shocked that you wouldn't have told me something."

"Am… am I in trouble?" He asked softly.

"Of course not, Mister Longbottom." McGonagall answered for the older man. She flicked her wand, conjuring chairs for them all. Harry was ignoring them as they sat, staring at Fawkes who was staring back.

"Would you like to sit, Harry? Or would you rather see my ever-loyal companion." Harry just glanced at the older man, before moving over to Fawkes after Dumbledore just smiled and nodded.

He was almost surprised that Fawkes hopped onto his shoulder before Harry could even pet him. Fawkes weighed more than Hedwig, several pounds more, but had just the same balance as his favorite owl while radiating a comforting warmth that eased his stress and calmed his racing heart and mind. "Hey Fawkes. Have you been doing okay?"

Fawkes let out a musical trill as Dumbledore chuckled, "He has been, though he has been getting more frozen fruits as of late. I fear at his current rate, his wings may not bear him soon."

Fawkes shook his head before letting out an offended squawk, causing the aged headmaster to laugh lightly. Harry could only chuckle at Neville's confusion, "Frozen fruits?"

"Yes, Mister Longbottom. Phoenixes absolutely love frozen fruits despite being creatures of fire. I have never understood why, and he is hardly able to explain why through our limited ability to communicate." Dumbledore explained with a smile, "You might as well sit, Harry. He will likely only leave you when he knows it's time for you to leave yourself."

Harry shrugged. It wasn't uncomfortable to carry Fawkes in any manner, especially with his natural warmth and calmness that radiated from him. With no complaints at the phoenix's attachment to him, Harry easily sat down in the comfortable chairs their professor had conjured, and Neville reached over to rub Fawkes back.

"He is warm." Neville commented, before blushing at the fact he called a bird of fire warm. "Right. Dumb comment."

"Quite alright. Now, I believe I have some questions for you, Harry, and then likely, you have some for me?" Dumbledore asked.

"I do." Harry answered.

"Well, firstly, how have you seen Sirius inside the castle?" Dumbledore asked. His hands were steepled in front of him, yet there was no concern or signs of anger in his eyes or expression. Either the man was genuinely curious, or he was wearing a masterful mask that even Voldemort couldn't hold up.

"The hidden passage that takes us out to the Shrieking shack." Harry answered. It wasn't wrong, as it was how the two came and went for their various trips. Outright lying to the old man would be next to impossible, as he was supposedly a Master Legimens, "I only saw him at night so no one knew. I'm not in trouble for breaking the curfew again, am I."

"Hm, not at all considering it was of grave importance to matter's of family, though I ask you not to do it again, or at least ask first. That would be a good solution though to keep the risks to a minimum. And I would guess you were helping him heal from his years in Azkaban?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes sir. He needed some potions brewed, which I did at night as well. Nothing complicated, a fifth year nutritional potion and scar cream, as well as the medical toothpaste for whitening and healing teeth. I had most of the ingredients and had an elf go get what I was missing. I was proud of how easily I made everything." Harry answered truthfully.

Harry hesitated, before adding, "I still stand behind the fact he needed a healer, but his options were limited. I'd like to believe that we did rather well with what we had to make do with."

"Impressive, you asked for help from a Hogwarts' elf?" Dumbledore rubbed his chin, "What elf?"

"I'm not sure, sir. I simply asked and gave it the gold. There isn't a rule against that, is there?" Harry feigned nervousness.

"No. Though I admit, the idea is novel. Most just use the owl ordering method." McGonagall replied, slightly proud of Harry's creativity, "Though I didn't know elves responded to students that aren't prefects or the Headboy or girl."

"They can if they know the student is respected by them or has a need for them. Most times, in the case of lost students, they just send a prefect." Dumbledore replied, "They won't answer for everyone though for obvious reasons."

"And what all have you discussed with Sirius?" Dumbledore continued, turning away from their head of house and back to Harry.

Harry sat in silence for a moment, thinking on how to answer this one. Considering the vast topics they covered with the amount of time they had together, he obviously needed to be truthful while limiting the amount he admitted to.

"Well sir, at first it was him clearing his name with me alone and asking for help. Which was then followed by getting him the stuff he needed to heal and get his strength back. Though, he first taught me spells and gave me a warning to clear my scent every time I saw him to prevent Professor Lupin from smelling him on or near me. After that though, he spent time teaching me some things about my family status and history, along with telling me stories about my dad and him and their pranks."

"Oh?" Dumbledore commented lightly, "I am surprised you needed much teaching about your family. I had, it seems, wrongly assumed that your Aunt Petunia would have told you that you needed to ask Gringotts for the information about your magical family."

"Sir." Harry started, his neutral tone dropping and causing him to speak without thinking in anger, "My aunt refused to even tell me my parents were magical until Hagrid forced them to be silent long enough to tell me himself. Until I was eleven, I was just a freak in a cupboard and my parents were lazy drunks that died in a car crash. Why-"

"ALBUS!" McGonagall roared, silencing Harry's question. "I told you they were the worst sort of muggles! I hadn't believed the twins when they said those muggles had bars over his window and a cupboard with his name in it, but now I know it's true! Did you not check up on him like you promised? What about when I asked how he was doing!"

It was in those moments that Harry was glad that the Headmaster wasn't looking at him, as he failed to suppress his horror at revealing his childhood. Sirius had been the only one to ever truly know the extent, and apparently the twins knew a little too. He had never wanted it to get out to anyone, which was why he never admitted it back when he begged in his first year to stay at Hogwarts.

Of course, Snape had discovered some of it, but it had been clear that by their fifth year, the damage to their relationship had already been done, and hence, the man had never uttered a word of it to Dumbledore from what Harry knew.

Focusing on the present, he looked back up to the headmaster, who bore an expression that was a mixture of angry and hurt as McGonagall's continued tirade stopped. He ignored her several angry questions as he leveled Harry with a piercing stare that spoke more than anything. "Is what you just said true, Harry?"

He felt the light legilimency probe, and knew he had no real choice than to allow it to be seen if he wanted to keep his ability of Occlumency and other secrets hidden. With a pained expression, he shoved some of the memories past what was hidden in his control. His meeting with Hagrid, the twins pulling the bars from his window with the car, and the days being shoved in his cupboard hungry along with different attacks committed by Dudley and one by Vernon were pushed beyond his mental protections before the headmaster could reach them.

All of the memories were experienced by both of them in just a few short moments as Harry shifted slightly in his seat, both in discomfort and nervousness. "Yes sir."

The room seemed to pressurize as the windows cracked, Dumbledore's eyes glowing nearly an iridescent blue as his magic slipped from his control. Harry was almost shocked at the sheer anger on his face, but it lasted only a few moments, before it all gave way to sadness, the feeling of power draining from the room in the blink of an eye as the headmaster removed his glasses and laid his head in his hands, supported only by his elbows on the desk.

There was silence as they all waited. Harry shifted his gaze to the desk, though comfort flowed through him as Fawkes seemed to sing quietly into his ear, which was heard by them all. Harry was unsure if McGonagall would last longer than a minute or two before ripping into him again though, but thankfully, no one had to find out.

"I am truly sorry, Harry. I should have listened to Minerva all of those years ago." Dumbledore whispered as he looked up, and Harry could see the genuine emotion there. "I have made many mistakes, but this one is perhaps the biggest I have made yet. Never would I have condemned you to such a childhood, and it was exactly what I did when I left you there the night after your parents were attacked."

Harry just stared. He hadn't expected the headmaster to ever have remorse for what he had done, especially when the headmaster had admitted in his last year alive that he knew Harry wouldn't have a pleasant childhood. In fact, Harry expected him to claim that the blood protection was necessary, even at the cost of his own health and strength. Or maybe that it was necessary to build up his toughness in school for the world was cruel. Hell, even so he could relate to Voldemort… blatantly shown guilt and regret?

No. Those were the two things he never had expected.

"Harry?" Neville asked softly, "Is this why you always had those ratty and baggy clothes?"

"Part of it, Neville." Harry admitted softly, "My muggle relatives hate me. And I mean it. They would have left me at an orphanage, but I am guessing this protection they were given for keeping me prevented them from actually carrying out the regular threat. Instead, I was treated worse than a Malfoy-owned house elf, fed only the scraps when I had behaved and not had incidents of freakishness, and always bullied by my cousin, amongst the many other things. I had tried to report it multiple times up until I was seven and gave up, but Petunia was friends with people in the child care system, so nothing ever came of it."

"That changed though this year." Neville prompted. Both of the adults were watching. Harry sighed. He wasn't pleased with this line of questioning, but it seemed like it was the week for secrets to get out.

"Yeah. I realized that I had my own money, and what they didn't know, they couldn't hate me for. So I left on my birthday and stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. I ate good meals, bought new clothes, and decided I was going to be the best I could be. I know that they are a temporary problem, and I can't let them hold me back forever."

Harry bullshitted some of it, but it was also the truth. With his second chance, he genuinely thought of it as a way to do his best to make his parents proud, especially with the stories that he had been getting about his parents and with Sirius' encouragement.

"Harry." Dumbledore said, getting his attention once more, "I will do whatever is in my power to ensure that you will not return there this summer. Sirius is your godfather, and now the best candidate for being your guardian. I shall do my best to get it taken care of, as it is the least I can offer."

"And we will remove the blood wards?" Harry asked, "Sirius said they drain my magic, that they were possibly weakening me some."

"Yes-"

"Damn straight we will remove them. And really, Albus? Blood wards on a child!" McGonagall said derisively. Harry and Neville looked between one another, both shocked at their head of house speaking to Dumbledore in such a manner. "I thought when you said there were special wards, that they were wards you created yourself."

"There were a few other wards, but the main power came from the Blood Wards. I had believed the drain would be less on him due to the protections from Lily's sacrifice, and seeing as he has never had an issue casting any spells, I believe I was right." Dumbledore explained. Harry wondered if that was true, but there was no way of testing it.

Harry heard McGonagall muttering in another language, likely Gaelic from what it sounded like, and judging from her tone, none of it was happy words.

"Professor." Harry asked, ignoring the muttering of the angry Scotswoman. "Why were our parents targeted and attacked at the end of the war?"

Dumbledore seemed to question how to respond for several moments. "I don't believe I should answer this yet, Harry. I don't know that you are ready, as much as you have progressed. You as well, Mister Longbottom."

"Was it because of a Prophecy?" Dumbledore froze, his eyes slowly moving to Harry's. "Sirius mentioned that my dad had said something about a prophecy. He didn't know if it was relevant to why they were targeted, but… well… I can see some logic to it. Neville and I were both born close together, and our parents were both powerful enemies of Voldemort."

There was a penetrating silence as no one spoke, only the slight clicks of Fawkes' beak echoed in the room as the bird began picking at Harry's hair.

"I cannot tell you what it was yet that the prophecy said, but yes. It was a prophecy that foresaw the downfall of Voldemort." Dumbledore spoke slowly. "It was between you and Mister Longbottom, but I believe, after his attack on you Harry, that you became the primary subject of the prophecy. Though that is only what has happened, and does not exclude what could happen, as all prophecies are confusing in their execution."

"It's Harry." Neville muttered with only a hint of dejection, "I'm not much of a wizard."

There was a moment of silence as no one had a response to that, before a spark appeared in Harry's mind. He had always known that Neville really improved in his sixth year, but he had been behind for so long that the damage had been done for his academics. If he did this, it would change that too, but he couldn't not do it. Sirius would agree with his decision, or at least, Harry would hope he did.

"If you weren't using that old wand, you would have less issues." Harry said. It would be insensitive if Neville knew that Harry knew it was his dad's wand, but Harry wasn't supposed to know.

"Old wand? Mister Longbottom, what is Mi-" McGonagall asked.

"Don't call my dad's wand old." Neville snapped angrily before McGonagall had finished speaking, "I'm just trying to honor him."

"Do you feel any warmth from your wand?" Dumbledore asked, preventing an argument between the two, "A connection perhaps?"

Neville pulled it out, before shaking his head. "It's wood, professor. It has always felt like wood."

"Then it does not recognize you as its master." Dumbledore said softly. "I will take you after this to get a wand of your own, and then I will be meeting with Augusta."

"But… I want to honor him." Neville said angrily, "Gran says this is how to honor him."

"It is not. You can honor him by being the best you can be and by being your own person." McGonagall replied, "I knew Frank well as his head of house, as well as I knew Alice, and neither of them would have wanted to hold you back by making you use an unmatched wand or by being like them."

Neville seemed to debate it for a moment, before giving in unhappily. "Fine, but please deal with Gran. She won't be happy about this and if I have to, it will make getting a wand a waste of time."

"It will be handled. I give my word on it." McGonagall replied firmly. She glanced at the clock, "It is time for classes, Albus. You will take Mister Longbottom to Ollivanders, and you and Harry can continue this discussion later."

"Very well. Come back on Saturday, Harry, so we can talk." Dumbledore instructed quietly. Harry nodded, before standing.

"Good luck Neville… and sorry about insulting the wand, I didn't know." Harry said softly.

"It's fine. I hope this works though. Nothing else has worked yet." Neville said dejectedly. Harry only patted him on the shoulder before walking Fawkes back to his perch. The phoenix hopped off happily, and Harry gave him a small petting on the head before heading to the door. He glanced at the headmaster only one more time, seeing the regretful look on the old man's face before leaving the office with McGonagall.

"See me after our class." She instructed, taking off at a brisk pace. Harry could only let out a heavy sigh, anxiousness and worry picking at his mind from what he revealed.

Replies to comments:

Redacted: Love the comment, really. I was hoping more would question why I did this, and it's quite simple. Harry knows Sirius. No matter how different the man is from what Harry knew before, he still felt as if Sirius would try and laugh about it. In this manner, Sirius had the story first, and hence couldn't joke about it or lie. After all, if someone came back in time, tried to flat out tell you it, and then follow it up with a ridiculously elaborate story, would you believe it? Especially when said boy is the son of one of the best known pranksters?

Besides, I see a lot of people use time travel and simply put out 'Hey, I'm from the future.' I wanted to do things a little differently.

To the guest: Yes, in the book, Hermione is unconscious. However, this is an AU to a slight degree, as all of the twelve Death Eaters were supposed to have lived in the DOM. It was my slight change for realism, as certainly shelves falling would kill at least someone. Thank you for the correction to the fourth-should-be-third task. It will be corrected.

Heartsglow: They may seem to be, but Dumbledore is rarely denied anything, and they very well view him as a possible threat. To them, it will be easier to probe him slowly and find exactly where he stands before outright vilifying him. After all, Dumbledore's secrets have even deeper secrets.

AFLlover: Technically, he was on the run for nearly ten months from the Death Eaters, from July when they broke the wards around Privet Drive, to May at the Battle of Hogwarts. I had rounded up.

To all: I appreciate the feedback and hope y'all enjoy the next chapters. Some will feature Sirius more than Harry, but after the next few, it should be the end of the year. Until next time.