The knowledge that he could be living with Sirius had a twofold effect. It made spending time over the Summer with the Dursleys even more unbearable because he now knew it could have been so much better. And it reduced the power they had to get under his skin because he now believed that it was coming to an end. The summer ahead of him was looking to be the most glorious of his young life, only because he knew that it was potentially the last one surrounded by his relatives. And that was enough to make anyone celebrate wildly.

The end of the school year had been characteristically chaotic. After the dementors had swooped down and tried to perform their dreaded kiss on his godfather, he had been more buoyed that most people had the right to be following an encounter with said creatures. He had performed a magical feat that few rarely managed. And, by all accounts, it was even more spectacular than the average patronus, not that he was one to brag. Professor Dumbledore had been incredibly interested about the show of magical power, after he had spent a good five minutes with his head in the fireplace as he angrily discussed the matter with the Minister of Magic. Harry hadn't really wanted to focus too much on it, but Hermione kept playing up his talents, which meant the praise kept coming. He'd never been good with praise, mainly because he'd rarely received any as a child.

There had been the sense that Hermione was going over the top with her comments, obviously trying to make up for the weeks-long semi-feud that had swept over their small group. Harry could see through her efforts, even if she truly was amazed by what he'd done. Matthew had applauded him too, but had reined it in fairly early on when he'd sensed Harry's evident discomfort. The pair had reached an unspoken impasse for the time being, a sort of uneasy alliance. Harry was not willing to forgive him so easily, as much as Hermione believed that their friendship had been restored.

Vowing that the dementors would be far gone from Hogwarts by the time they returned, Dumbledore had sent them all to the medical wing for their routine check ups. Sirius, although the dementors hadn't managed to get too close to him, had grown quiet and pale after the incident, very much in need of a restorative chunk of chocolate. Madam Pomfrey had been rather suspicious of his presence, though she didn't voice those opinions when she handed him his unorthodox medication. Matthew, who had put his body on the line when magic had failed him, was the worst of the bunch. Harry saw that as the reason why neither of them spoke too much, the other boy recovering from his traumatic experience.

Seeing Matthew on his bed, on the verge of exhausted sleep, had reminded Harry once more about what he'd been told about the boy's life. Not that Harry had forgotten about it. Far from it. He'd been thinking about it constantly for weeks. But the sight had brought home what Matthew had been through, losing his family at a tender age, bottling up those emotions to save face. It was all too easy for Harry to connect to that sentiment and maybe he was starting to understand why such things had been left unsaid. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered whether he would have preferred a life where no one knew of his parent's fate, one where he got to choose who he told. It was a tempting prospect.

Harry had wanted to talk to him about it, he truly had, but the timing had been all wrong. Matthew was in no fit state to have such a deep conversation and, honestly, Harry had wanted to do it in private. That was part of the reason why it had gone so wrong the first time, because they were both restricted by the eyes watching them. So he would wait until he got that opportunity. He wasn't going to let it rest until it happened. Which was how he had left things upon their departure, promises shared that the three of them would write to one another, promises that Harry didn't feel like keeping. Because the written word wasn't a suitable substitute for what had to be said.

He sat in his room at Number Four, Privet Drive, leaning against his desk as he looked out the window. Harry, for the most part, had been left alone by the Dursleys since he'd arrived back, which he wasn't going to take for granted. His Uncle Vernon hadn't been pleased at all after being made to wait late at the train station, but Harry had tuned out his complaints expertly. As ever, the best coping mechanism for life with such a family was to do his best to ignore them. It was working so far. A week had passed without incident. Dumbledore had written him a letter explaining that his presence would be required at some point, and that transport would be provided. So Harry just needed to keep his head down.He did as he was told, completed his chores when asked, and cooked meals if he had to. He gave them no opportunity to get annoyed at him. Fighting with his friends had removed his ability to fight his relatives. He just needed to maintain the peace until he escaped.

The peace didn't last much longer. It was shattered by an ear-piercing scream. Sitting in his room, preparing to get his textbooks out to do his homework nice and early, Harry was jolted by the unexpected sound. Hedwig squawked and flapped her wings in alarm. His heart dropped as he considered what, or who, it could be. What if Pettigrew had escaped and wanted to finish the job he'd started twelve years ago? What if other followers of Voldemort had heard the news and felt that there was a chance to become the Dark Lord's next servant? It was his Aunt Petunia who had screamed, the noise was a familiar one. She normally reserved it for things he invariably did wrong, like the one time he'd accidentally tracked mud over the carpet.

In normal circumstances, his aunt and uncle would have shouted at him for charging down the stairs, skipping the last too with a dramatic leap. They would have gone red in the face if they'd seen him brandish his wand so openly as he was now doing. But they were, instead, momentarily distracted by the incomprehensible sight of a blue box now sitting in their garden. Harry stowed his wand away, even if he was still annoyed at the visage. He could see Matthew already standing outside, hands on hip, as he had a heated discussion with Aunt Petunia. Dudley was walking around the police box, marvelling at the object whilst also looking distinctly terrified by it. The patio doors were open so Harry was able to pick up most of the conversation going on.

"It just appeared out of nowhere!" That was Petunia, unable to comprehend what she'd seen.

"It does that, yes." Matthew had never gotten on well with Harry's relatives. It seemed that trend was continuing.

"But…the neighbours! What if they saw? What if they look into the garden and see this…hideous thing!"

"Excuse me, she is not hideous! Do I go around, insulting the way your house looks? Because I could if I wanted to." Matthew had his arms folded. Harry was sure that no one had spoken to them like this before, and he couldn't not be amused by the sight. Even if he knew there would be consequences. "And there's no way anyone would have seen her because of how high your shrubs are. I've been instructed about just how much you like your privacy. I could have parked her on the street, if you'd prefer that."

"And instead you brought it right here on my…oh my…my flowerbed!" Petunia began to wail, falling to her knees as she looked at the crushed lilies poking out from under the Tardis.

Harry saw that as his cue to enter, a form of damage control more than anything. "What's going on?" He did his best to act nonchalant.

"Who is this… boy ?" Uncle Vernon barked at him, his face an ugly shade of purple.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "We met last year. I'm one of Harry's friends, remember? I picked him up? We actually had a conversation! You let me have him for most of the summer."

"I do my best to forget any interactions I have with your kind. And it doesn't explain what you're doing here now! Damaging our private property, speaking to us like this…we should call the cops."

"I'd like to see you try." He gestured wildly to the top of the box. "Can't you read? It says police. I'm immune." He wasn't. He was completely bluffing, but it was worth it to see just how annoyed he could make them.

"Matthew," Harry said tiredly, knowing that his antics weren't going to help anyone. "I'd like to know why you're here too."

"Didn't you receive Dumbledore's letter? I'm your transport for the trial. Which starts in…" He closed one eye as he thought. "...thirty seven minutes."

"When he said transport, I thought he meant a car! Or the bus! He knows that my family prefers it when everything's more…incognito." Harry got the sense that the headmaster was meddling, as if he was purposefully pushing them together after seeing their friendship become frayed.

"The Tardis is completely incognito! People would walk past her without even noticing. And she won't leave a mark. Apart from on your flowers. I am sorry about that. I tried to miss them but didn't do a good job."

"Did he say trial?" Vernon asked. Harry didn't know whether the look in his eyes was anger or delight. "What have you done, boy? Gotten yourself into trouble, have you? Well, you can tell that freakish headmaster of yours that I won't be allowing a common criminal to stay under my roof! Not after we've looked after you for so many years, with no compensation in return."

Matthew snorted but kept his thoughts to himself. Harry saw that as the wisest thing he'd done so far that day. This conversation was already a ticking time bomb, and the last thing he needed was to be kicked out of the house over a misunderstanding. He knew that he could have lived with Matthew again, or even Hermione, but being put in close confines with them wasn't the most appealing prospect. Not, at least, until he aired his feelings.

"I'm not on trial," Harry explained. "We're witnesses to something that happened. They want us to testify, to help this man prove his innocence." He was choosing not to mention it was the same man they would have seen on the news the year previous, or that the man was his godfather, or that the man wanted to take him away from them. It was already complicated and tense enough.

"It still seems like you've been poking around in the wrong stuff, the way I see it."

"The good news is that it means I'll be out of your hair for the day. And, probably for a few more days after that, depending on how long it goes. You'll get a bit of peace and quiet from me, hey? And, once it's done today, I should be able to get back in time to make tea. To say sorry for what my friend accidentally did to the garden. Because he will get me back on time." Harry had learnt how to quickly temper their anger. He looked to Matthew for confirmation, who mutely nodded his head.

Petunia, now back on her feet, wandered over to her husband. "I suppose that's the best we could ask for."

"We could ask for them to steer clear for the rest of summer," Vernon grunted. "Or, better still, much longer after that." He scrutinised Harry. "Do we have to pay for anything? Legal fees?"

"None whatsoever," Harry assured him. Even if there was a cost, there was plenty of gold in his Gringotts account to cover it. Not that they needed to know about that. Otherwise they would then definitely be wanting that compensation.

The fact that they didn't have to do anything seemed to convince the Dursleys to allow him to leave. Whatever the reason, they didn't stop him from walking towards the blue box, heading inside after Matthew. Harry half wondered what their reaction would be to the Tardis leaving, though he expected his aunt to be more focused on her ruined plants. Yet Harry couldn't really focus on the family he was leaving behind as he stood inside the ship. The last time he had been there, there hadn't been the opportunity to take it all in. He'd been running from a werewolf after all, and he'd been reeling from the bombardment of revelations he'd gone through that evening. Now, with things calm, he was able to walk around more coolly.

Matthew was already by the console, dancing around in some expertly choreographed routine. Harry ventured up the steps more slowly. He wanted to know how this place was possible. He wanted to know how far it went on for. He'd been down several corridors and hadn't reached their end; there was plenty more that the Tardis had to offer. It was surprisingly quiet for something so complex, but it did begin to groan and wheeze once Matthew pulled down a lever. Even then, it felt almost muted, as if the ship itself was preparing for the conversation that needed to happen.

Because, as gorgeous as the setting was and as much as Harry wanted to explore it forever, it brought home everything he'd been struggling with. Matthew had managed to hide something literally this massive. Were his lies bigger on the inside too? How could someone his age control such a machine with such relative ease. There were so many buttons, so many things that looked like they could go wrong. Harry watched him move around, acting as if nothing had changed between them. His actions were so very Matthew , erratic to most observers but Harry knew that every movement had a purpose. He was forever putting on a show. He was wanting to impress Harry, as if that would repair what had been broken. How long had that performance been going? Since they'd met? Was there anything behind the production or was that just who he was?

"And the good thing is, we'll be at the Ministry in no time." Matthew didn't stop as he spoke. "Probably best to get there early and set a good impression. And I won't be landing the old girl in the Ministry itself. God, if they found out about her, I'd never get her back."

That interested Harry a great deal. "So the Ministry…they don't know about this?"

"Or me, for that matter. When I arrived, Dumbledore decided that it'd make things a lot easier in the long run."

"So you've been lying to the actual government as well as your friends. I'm impressed."

Matthew gritted his teeth, now having the good grace to pause. "For my own safety. The Ministry doesn't have a good track record of dealing with things that are different. Imagine if they found out about my powers. I'd be hauled away to a dark, damp room and probed and tested for the rest of my life. They wouldn't stop until they discovered how to tap into my abilities."

Harry, despite all the time he'd spent thinking about this, had never considered that possibility. "Do you really think they'd do that?"

"Can I take the risk? I don't have much faith in a Ministry that locked away an innocent man for twelve years. A Ministry that contains people like Lucius Malfoy…you saw how much he wanted to get rid of me after that incident with his little prodigy in our second year. If he found out about my origins, he'd be marching down to the school within minutes, barking for my removal with the agreement of the rest of the board. They'd probably see me as dangerous, even if it is just magic that I use like everyone else."

"I never…thought about it like that."

"Yeah, well, it's not something I like to talk about."

Harry joined him on the central platform, trying not to think about how far it potentially went down over the railings. "So your powers…they are just magic?"

"Same components, same makeup, just without the restraints that have formed over generations. Like I told you, I've been teaching Hermione about how to access that power. And you'll get the same chance, if that's what you want."

Harry smirked, but there was no mirth behind his smile. "Trust me, I know you've been teaching Hermione. I guess you've been seeing her over the summer then." Why did he sound so bitter?

"I thought it would do her some good to have time alone with her parents, after how crazy the school year has been. So no, I haven't. The whole situation has put her under a massive emotional strain and that won't help with the process."

"Are you blaming me for that?"

Matthew pulled down the lever and the Tardis shook violently, falling dead and motionless. They weren't going anywhere until this was sorted. "I'm the one to blame for this mess. But I'm also not going to apologise because I truly felt like I was doing the right thing."

"Yeah, you tried to tell me that last time. The right thing for who though? Me or yourself?"

"Why can't it be both?" Matthew asked with a sad smile.

"It hurt too much for it to be the right thing for me."

"Things aren't always that simple, Harry. But you know now. You're one of the few people who know about who I am. That's how much I trust you. I allowed Sirius to remember too, as a courtesy, to make this easier for you. Pettigrew wasn't so lucky. Dumbledore obliviated him as soon as you left. I would have done it but, frankly, with how annoyed I was, I probably would have erased more than necessary and he'll be needing most of his memories for the trial."

"So I should be happy that you haven't erased my memories? Do you know how terrifying that is? To hear you contemplate that as an actual possibility?"

Matthew held up his hands. "I would never do that to you. Because, even if you were angry with me, I trusted you not to tell anyone. That's what I had to contend with when I chose to tell you."

"I understand that. I do. I really do. But Hermione could have easily had the same reaction as me, yet you didn't hesitate nearly as much."

"Try telling her that," he tried to joke, something which fell flat. "She had to prise the information out of me."

"Because I never tried to get you to talk about it," Harry said sarcastically.

"That's different."

"How? How is it different? After everything, I can understand most of what you did. I know why you didn't tell me. I know why you'd want it as a secret. I just want to know why it was her first, before me."

Matthew hung his head. "I feel like we keep going around in circles. I told her first because she confronted me. A couple weeks after you found out about Sirius supposedly betraying your parents. So I told her. And I kept it from you because I didn't think you could cope with learning about another betrayal of trust. It would have hit too close to home."

"The thing that's been stinging is, because of that choice, I've felt for weeks that you've seen your friendship with her as more important as ours." Finally he was airing the doubts that had been eating away at him.

Matthew frowned and walked towards him. "Is this what this is all about?"

"A part of it. It just feels like a sign that you'd be perfectly alright if it was just the two of you."

"Harry, neither of us feel like that. Hermione would launch into a lecture if she heard you talking like this. In an ideal world, I would have told you both at the same time. That's how I wanted to do it, because you're the two people I've learnt to trust since coming here. Maybe I was too scared to go through with it. If I told one of you, then at least I wouldn't be losing both of you. That was my mindset. It had nothing to do with picking favourites."

"You seem…seem to be close, that's all. It's different between you and her, compared to me and you. Or me and her."

"And that's because, even if we're a team, we still have those different friendships too. I'm sure Hermione is envious of our friendship at times. You should have spoken about this earlier. I think it's natural to have those doubts. Everyone goes through it, where you believe that people might be better off without you. But we're a trio. Nothing's going to change that. That's all I can promise you. I can't change the way you think but I can tell you where I'm coming from."

Harry ran his hand over the cool hand railing, the sensation helping with the burning feeling in his cheeks. He felt too vulnerable. He didn't like talking this openly. Maybe he was seeing why Matthew had wanted to avoid it. "Can I ask you a question?"

"It's pretty much all you've been doing since you stepped foot inside here."

"I don't think you're going to like it."

Matthew had his hands on his hips and rolled his eyes. He was edging closer to the console, itching to get their journey back underway. There was safety in that. Remaining stationary left him exposed. "I'm getting that sense, yeah."

"Do you like Hermione?"

Having been leaning against the console, Matthew's elbow slipped awkwardly at the unexpected query. A weighty silence descended. He pondered what his next move could be. If he set the Tardis going again, and made it particularly violent, then it would hopefully provide enough of a distraction to get him out of this mess. He could say it was accidental and act all innocent. He usually got away with that, though both his friends had appeared to learn how to navigate past that trick lately, which was incredibly infuriating.

"What sort of a question is that? Of course I like Hermione! She's brilliant!" Acting dumb. That was a new approach. Deflection was a well trodden path though. "She's clever, witty, fiercely loyal, doesn't suffer any nonsense from either of us…"

"Matthew," Harry said through gritted teeth. "For once, just give me an honest, straight answer."

The other boy flopped his head backwards and closed his eyes. "Is it that obvious?"

"Maybe not to her. Maybe it wasn't even to me until recently. But you don't exactly hide it. You're always finding ways to compliment her. Since you started doing this training with her…even when I didn't know that was what you were doing…I could tell something had shifted between you two. You were closer. It's why my suspicions grew."

Matthew sighed, walking slowly past Harry until he could sit on the steps. "I didn't…intend for this to happen. This wasn't the plan. I didn't want to get close to anyone because I'd learnt that people are eventually torn away from you." He looked up and patted the empty space beside him. Harry took him up on the offer and they sat there for a few moments more. "Do you want to know something that Hermione doesn't?"

"You mean you haven't told her everything?" Why did that make Harry feel better?

"Some things hurt too much. But I'm willing to tell you, to prove that I do trust you. Do you remember the Mirror of Erised?"

"It's not something that's easy to forget." He could picture it now, the first time he'd seen his parents as a grown child.

"Like you, I saw something in. Someone. Before I was sent away, I had a friend. She was called Kirsty. We were young kids, from different families, we always spent time with one another. At that age, you think friendships are going to last forever. But I had to leave her behind, like I did with everyone else. She probably won't have known why I just…vanished…and I sometimes wonder whether her fondness for me turned to bitterness over the years. Looking in the mirror, I saw a reality where I didn't have to go through that pain. By that point, I'd already decided that I didn't want to go through that again, and yet I made the same mistakes. I found you and Hermione, and those walls I'd built up threatened to crumble down."

Harry didn't know what to say. What could he possibly say that would help, that would ease the burden the other boy was carrying? "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"You had every right to do that, Harry. I can't hide from it forever."

"So…what are you going to do with Hermione? Are you going to tell her?"

"Do you like her?"

Harry was caught off guard by the sudden gear change. "We sound like a bunch of school kids, asking whether we have crushes on someone."

"That's what I'm trying to get at. We're both just kids. I'm still just a kid. I think you've got this conception of me that I'm something more than that just because of my background, but I'm as clueless as anyone when it comes to stuff like this. I need you to remember that."

"Why did you ask…if I like her?"

"Because I need to know. Because, if you do, I won't do anything. I don't want to damage our friendship any more than I already have."

"You'd put my feelings before your own?"

"If I have to."

Harry ran a hand against his chin. "I've never really thought about it."

Matthew arched an eyebrow. "You've spent every single day for the past three years in her presence and you never once considered the possibility?"

"I always felt that we were too young to have those sorts of thoughts."

"We've been through so much over the years that we can't pretend that we're normal children anymore."

"I mean…Hermione's brilliant, like you said. And there's been moments where…she looks at me and it just feels…comforting. But, that's the thing…that could just be me being so happy that I've got a friend like her. I haven't been taught about what to do in this position or how to figure out if you like someone."

"Yeah, that's the troubling thing. Neither have I. I suppose we're going to have to work that out together."

"I wouldn't…stop you. If you wanted to tell Hermione."

"Thank you." Matthew gave him a tight smile. The situation was growing fairly awkward and neither boy knew how to act. "It means a lot."

"Are you going to do that then?"

His friend laughed. "I have no idea."

"You really are clueless, aren't you?"

"Thank you." This time, it was said with a bit more scorn.

"No, it's a good thing. I think…I needed to see this. That you're not some all powerful wizard. You're still…the boy I knew."

Matthew nodded his head, knowing that any words he could find would ruin the moment. They wouldn't be able to encapsulate how much they meant to him. "I suppose we should get going. The Tardis isn't as cooperative as she once was, which means we actually have to oblige to schedules. And you know what Hermione will be like if we're late."

Harry watched Matthew stand up, getting the ship ready to restart their journey. But he knew that they'd already arrived at an understanding in their friendship.