If there was one thing that could get Harry out of his recent slump, it was being reunited with Sirius. It was an entirely new experience, heading home for the holidays from Hogwarts. It was also unchartered territory to be greeted at King's Cross by his godfather, being met with smiles and hugs rather than the clipped tones of his Uncle Vernon. For once, he was glad to be away from the castle, the first time he'd ever considered the viability of a life detached from his school. Since joining the magical world, he'd almost been fearful of what the future held beyond Hogwarts. Waking through the park with Sirius suggested that he'd be alright after all.

If he managed to succeed in his gargantuan task, of course.

As much as Harry wanted to feel like a kid should when Christmas was hurtling towards them, it was difficult to keep his mind distracted from the investigation he was supposed to be undertaking. Most of all, he knew that he would feel guilty if he spent any time enjoying himself, with the knowledge hanging over him that the world was relying on him. What if Voldemort attacked over the winter break? What if people died because of that? What if he'd been able to stop that from happening if he'd just dedicated himself to the cause, rather than trying to have the best of both worlds?

Naturally, those sorts of thoughts eating away at him meant that conversation was fairly muted as the two of them made their way to Grimmauld Place. Sirius knew about the horcruxes. He'd been the first person Harry had told following the discussion with Dumbledore, not caring whether the headmaster wanted the details to remain absolutely secret. He needed to rely on his godfather for support. He wasn't going to take having a family for granted, risking pushing them away through a mountain of poorly-kept lies. And, now he had that shoulder to lean on, it opened the possibility that the weeks away from Hogwarts wouldn't be detrimental to their search.

"Sirius," Harry began tentatively.

His godfather just seemed happy that he was talking. "Harry…it appears that you have a lot on your mind. I've been running through my best jokes, and I've barely heard a snigger from your end."

Harry grimaced. Was he still taking the father figure for granted, despite his best efforts to do exactly the opposite? Was he living too inside his head to appreciate the people around him trying to keep him afloat? Sirius was doing exactly what Hermione had been put through, going the extra mile to potentially make him smile, only for the attempts to fall flat. It was difficult. Harry knew that they were struggling too. Hermione had been separated from the boy she loved, their fiercely close friend. Sirius had been told that the boy he was tasked with looking after was now spending all his free time working out how to avoid a war, working out how to kill another person. Harry understood that he needed to help them just as much as they were helping him.

He just didn't know how.

"Do you remember when you were clearing out Grimmauld Place?"

"How could I forget? There were more than a few curses that I had to narrowly avoid."

"You removed all the dark objects from the house, right?"

"...I'm curious as to where this is going…"

"Do you still have access to them?"

"Now, why on Earth would you want to go near that stuff? I got rid of them for a reason, in my early attempts to be a responsible adult for you."

"I know. I appreciate that. But…were there any…like… dark books? Covering topics that respectable authors would never go near? Because, if you still have them, I think that's the best chance we have of figuring out more about…"

Sirius held up a hand, still walking, though their pace had slowed since the discussion started. "I'm going to stop you there. You're here for a couple of weeks, Harry. And you're here to enjoy yourself."

"But…"

"Frankly, I don't care what perceived responsibilities you have. Not for the next fortnight. My job is to give you a semblance of the childhood you missed out on, which is more important than ever at this time of year. You're supposed to be a kid, Harry. You can enjoy Christmas, with me, and Remus, and your friends. With the clouds that are gathering, I doubt we'll get many more opportunities to have moments like this, at least until Voldemort is dead and buried."

"Sirius…I can't afford to take a break…we have to find the horcruxes…the longer they're out there, the stronger he becomes. How can I focus on presents and singing when that's going on at the same time."

"You're going to have to try. For me. I don't want to hear another word about horcruxes, okay? I've never been forced to put my foot down before, and I'd prefer it if it stayed that way."

Harry wanted to complain. He felt that it was his right to do so. How could he be expected to act like a normal child when every step of his life had been a series of events perfectly designed to rob that very childhood away from him? How could he be expected to be a kid when he'd been prophesied to either save their society, or die in the process? Most adults would have buckled under that level of pressure, let alone someone his tender age. It wasn't fair, as if he was being asked to be mature beyond his years without getting the corresponding treatment. Was it any wonder that his mood had soured?

Yet Sirius was purposefully picking up his pace as he the gate to the park came into view, seemingly putting a permanent end to that particular conversation. It wasn't very often that Harry got to see his godfather act all authoritative and serious, though it always seemed to happen when the subject matter turned to the expectations being placed in front of Harry. A pang of guilt went through him as he considered that, realising that every weighted discussion served as a reminder that Sirius wasn't succeeding in his goals of providing him with a happy existence. Was it possible to put the hunt on the backburner, as long as it meant his godfather was happy?

So, as Grimmauld Place went through the rigmarole of forming before their very eyes, Harry vowed himself to at least try to do what Sirius wished for. Perhaps that could be his Christmas present, along with the new personalised collar he'd been making subtle hints about for his Padfoot form. And, once Harry was inside his home (it still felt strange to say that), it became a lot easier to contemplate being happy for the next two weeks. Mainly because of the person waiting in the corridor for his arrival.

"Hermione?"

The last he'd seen of her was at the train station, saying their farewells and assuring one another that they'd keep in close contact. If anything remotely suspicious happened, Harry had been instructed to reach out to her straight away. His friend had walked away with her parents, signalling that rare time when they were apart, and he'd put the fears of separation behind once Sirius was patting him on the back. It appeared that those concerns were unwarranted, judging by the way she was smiling at him, albeit with a hint of nervousness clear to see.

"What…what are you doing here?" Harry asked, deciding it was the obvious route to go down.

The answer came in the form of more arrivals, Katherine and Peter Granger walking into view from the kitchen. Lupin stood in the doorway, giving Harry a pleasant nod of the head, though evidently holding back whilst the other greetings took place. Katherine, never one for formalities, wrapped Harry in a warm hug, leaving him temporarily stunned. What was more shocking was when Peter shook his hand once his wife was out of the equation. It was always daunting for a boy to shake a father's hand, especially when they had such a close relationship with his daughter.

"Oh, it's so good to see you!" Katherine said, flashing her white teeth, which Harry supposed should have been a given, seeing as they were both dentists. "I was going to shout 'surprise' but I doubt you need any more frights in your life, hey?"

"Mum," Hermione hissed with a roll of her eyes.

"What? I'm just very excited, that's all."

"I…I thought you were going to France," Harry managed to say through his confusion. "You mentioned something about skiing."

"Well, we can get onto that in a minute," Hermione assured him. "I'm sure you must have other questions…"

"How did you get here so quickly? We left the station at the same time."

"As if that needs answering," Matthew butted in, wandering casually down the stairs as if he owned the place. His long cloak lightly drifted along each step, though any thought that he was hovering was proved wrong by the heavy footsteps of his boots. "The Tardis is the best taxi service around, although I'll ask you not to tell her that I called her that."

"I'm still recovering from the journey," Peter complained, rubbing his forehead.

"It was surprisingly turbulent, I will admit that."

"Because you were trying to show off in front of my parents," Hermione argued.

"Who can blame me for that? I'm a showman at heart."

Sirius gently nudged Harry, who was simply watching the interaction with a small smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind but…I asked if they wanted to stay with us for the holidays. I know I should have asked you first, but I also wanted it to be one of your presents."

"I'd hate for us to be barging in on your family Christmas," Hermione added. "I didn't know anything about the plan until Matthew showed his face. It appears that he's been transpiring with my parents and Sirius behind our backs."

The boy in question held up his hands. "Guilty as charged. I've got to keep myself busy somehow."

"No, no…this is brilliant!" Harry reassured them. "Given everything that's going on, I want to make sure that I can spend as much time as possible with the people I care about."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Sirius said, patting his godson on the back. "My genius knows no bounds."

"I distinctly remember that it was my idea," Lupin corrected him. "Not that I'm used to getting any credit."

"I thought we agreed that any ideas we have are our ideas."

"Only when it suits you, it seems."

"Now you get it."

"I'm just worried that you've cancelled your trip away for this," Harry murmured, looking at the two Granger adults.

Katherine waved a dismissive hand. "We can go to the Alps whenever we want. And, truthfully, I know I'm going to enjoy being in the magical world far more than being stuck on some silly mountain. Not to mention what Matthew has done for us…"

"I'm almost afraid to ask…"

Matthew grinned. "I may have constructed a small ski slope in the back garden, to ensure they're not missing out."

"A ski slope?"

"Basically a hill with some snow."

"I didn't even know that this place has a garden."

"Have you seen the Tardis? My expertise is dimensional engineering? Small spaces, such as Grimmauld's rather meagre backyard…"

Sirius pulled a face. "Hey!"

"...can contain whatever you want it to if you're clever."

"I'm going to have to see this to believe it."

"You're going to do more than just see it, Harry. I hate to spoil your present, but there's a reason why I got your skis for Christmas."

xxxxxxxxxx

It should have been surprising, just how easy it was to put Voldemort and horcruxes to the back of his mind. Then again, being surrounded by people who had his best interests at heart, with no ulterior motives, meant that there was always someone nearby to ensure he wasn't on his own. Otherwise, his thoughts may have drifted to darker territory, rather than appreciating the cosiness of the season. How could he possibly think ill of the world when he and Sirius were laughing over their matching Christmas jumpers? How could horcruxes matter to him when Hermione was given a foamy moustache from an overflowing hot chocolate?

Which was why, when Harry woke up on Christmas morning, he was feeling suspiciously content. Not since Matthew's expulsion had he allowed himself to be so carefree. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Harry realised that this was his first proper Christmas. Waking up in his own bedroom, trying to gauge when everyone else in the house would rise from their slumber, hearing the faint sound of laughter emanating from downstairs. His hand idly drifting over the tinsel that decorated the bannisters whilst he quietly crept towards the hive of activity. Finding everyone in the living room with the fire roaring (for once, not because someone was using the Floo network) and discovering that they were all happy to see him.

It was rather strange to see Katherine and Peter in their pyjamas, even if they were covered up by their dressing gowns. Hermione and Matthew were perched on the carpeted floor, the latter leaning comfortably on the boy whilst they drank cups of tea. Sirius was in an armchair, leaning forward at the arrival of Harry, whilst Lupin was wandering around, delivering hot drinks to the adults with an ornate wooden tray. Once that job was done, he made sure to squeeze Sirius tightly on the shoulder, an act of intimacy that Harry had spotted between the two more often, especially since he'd come home. Perhaps it was yet another thing that he needed to bring up with his godfather, if that was something they could talk about with one another.

"Ah, at last he wakes!" Sirius exclaimed, extricating himself from the chair and wrapping an arm around Harry.

"I…I'm sorry," Harry mumbled awkwardly. "If I'd known that you were waiting for me…"

Living with the Dursleys, having an extended lie-in had been basically forbidden, one of the many rules he was expected to follow in that particular household. With countless chores to do, if he'd ever made the mistake of sleeping in for too long, he was usually forced to deal with an irate Vernon, or a gleeful Dudley who had been given clearance to jump on his. Even at Hogwarts, luxurious slumbers didn't happen too often, thanks to early lessons and the snores of his fellow dorm mates. All of which was why Harry was slightly shocked to see no judgement on the faces of the people waiting for him.

"Nonsense. If you can't enjoy the comfort of your bed at Christmas, then when can you? I was simply far too giddy to stay asleep, which is why I was up so early."

"We'd planned to treat our fine hosts to a cooked breakfast," Katherine explained. "Except Remus was already awake and banned us from the kitchen."

"I won't have anyone cooking for me in my house," the professor warned.

"It was the least we could do!"

"They've been bickering about this all morning," Hermione told him, patting a space on the floor for Harry to join them. "Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas, 'Mione."

"I was in the same boat as Sirius," Matthew commented. "I don't know how you do it, Harry. Sleeping on Christmas morning. I was up with the birds."

"Only because you accidentally left your bedroom window open," Hermione countered with a smirk.

"I'm not used to sleeping in a room that isn't the Tardis! I never normally have to think about windows ."

"Don't worry, Harry. We made sure to not open any presents until you were with us."

"Despite Sirius' best attempts to take a peek at his own pile," Lupin added, perching on the arm of the seat Sirius had flopped back on, earning a whack from his friend.

The comment was enough to make Harry realise that the room was dominated by mountains of presents of varying sizes, all looking dangerously close to toppling if you looked long enough at them. It was probably fairly weird for a kid to not pick up on the sight of gifts straight away, but Harry reasoned that the greatest one had already greeted him, as mushy as that sounded. He wasn't about to say that sort of thing out loud, just in case he earned a gentle teasing from his godfather. Harry just hoped that he understood just how grateful he was for bringing everyone together.

As much as he believed that sincerely, it was still always exciting when the unwrapping process started. None of them seemed to want to hang around once he was with them, causing a stream of brightly coloured paper to fill the air as they all savagely attacked their respective gifts. Harry was pleased to see that the Grangers found the funny side of a box of sweets designed to look like teeth, the result of a hasty trip to the shops after finding out that they were staying at Grimmauld Place. Hermione appeared to adore the blanket he'd gotten her, adorned in Gryffindor colours so that she could have a piece of Hogwarts at home, whilst the Tardis blue version for Matthew went down a treat.

In return, he received a guide to meditation from Hermione, reminding him that he still needed to keep practising his occlumency. Why that was a requirement wasn't something he could exactly bring up with the Grangers being within earshot. Matthew, besides the skis as he'd promised, handed him a strange glass sphere. It was very much like the object in which the prophecy had been stored, which wasn't the sort of memory he wanted to be dealing with when he was so happy. His initial worry was that a second dose of foreshadowing was about to enter his life. One was plenty more than enough.

"I know that I'm not around all the time anymore," Matthew said, feeling the rightful need to explain his choice. "Despite how much I try to sneak my way into Hogwarts. This object is of my own design, you see. If you're alone, you can try channelling your magic into it. It's a way of increasing your ability to control your untapped powers, as well as your endurance. It should change colours depending on how much you're able to store in the ball before it hopefully dissipates harmlessly away. I've given Hermione one as well."

"I'm not liking the 'hopeful' remark," Hermione remarked. "Have you tested them out yourself?"

"Of course I have."

"And they didn't explode."

"…only the first few times. But I worked out the kinks! I promise!"

The present that Sirius handed over was actually given away from the living room, a move that already had Harry's interest piqued. His godfather was acting rather shifty, putting Harry on edge. He'd learnt from experience that the worst things tended to happen when he was at his most relaxed, meaning that a plethora of increasingly dire situations flashed through his imagination. Only for that abject fear to come to a juddering halt when Sirius held out an innocuous looking key in the palm of my hand.

Harry frowned at the slightly rusted object. "What's…that?"

"Something that I couldn't really give you in front of the Grangers without difficult questions being asked. And it's something that Remus really didn't want you to have, but I overruled him."

Harry found himself leaning forward in equal parts curiosity and fear. It certainly sounded important. "I'm listening…"

"When we arrived for this break, you were asking about what we did with the dark objects left over from my family's ownership. This is the key to the warded area where we stored everything."

"You kept it?"

"The items which we could remove their curses were either thrown away or sold, but most of the stuff was too dark to risk letting it get out into the world. There are plenty of people out there who'd love to get their grubby mitts on what we possessed, and they could do a lot of damage with it. It was the best option to keep everything safely stored away, somewhere that we could always keep an eye on it."

"And you're…giving me access to that."

"I obviously know what scheme Dumbledore has got you wrapped up in and, as much as I hate that he's involving you, I at least appreciate that you've clued me in. If you think there's a chance that something down there could help you find those horcruxes, then I can't keep you away from it in good conscience."

"Down there?"

"Grimmauld Place has a basement."

"I've never seen it before."

"Because you weren't supposed to. It's heavily shrouded in protective magic. It's basically like a bunker. You don't want to know what my relatives were using it for in the past, but it definitely has its uses now. Trying to open it without this key would be equally fruitless as it would be foolish."

Sirius dropped the small object into Harry's outstretched hand, who stared at it for a moment. "I thought you didn't want me to think about that task until I was back at Hogwarts."

"See it as a reward. For actually sticking to your word. I'm proud that you were able to focus on yourself for once."

"Matthew being around helped with that. He was running through his mental training exercises the first night we got here. I…kind of…lost sight of that practice after he was forced to leave."

"You can't be perfect all the time, Harry. But you've actually allowed yourself to be a kid recently, and that's as much of a present as the collar. You've kept one promise so do it one more time for me, okay? Don't do anything stupid down there."

xxxxxxxxxxx

Naturally, Harry had to bring Matthew and Hermione with him for the initial exploration. With the Grangers still staying in the house, he'd employed Sirius to distract them longer enough for the kids to investigate the basement, hosting a dinner night for the adults. Remus was the unwitting accomplice, using tall tales about the magical world to inadvertently keep Hermione's parents from worrying about what they were doing. Whilst she'd made a lot of strides in divulging information to them, Hermione appeared grateful about the latest intervention.

The steps leading down to the basement were shrouded in darkness, which seemed to fit the purpose of the location. It wasn't anything that a lumos couldn't fix thanks to Matthew, guiding their path along the poorly maintained, stony staircase. The door itself, once they reached it, was thick and wooden, a sequence of silver locks adorning the surface, not unlike what could be found guarding the vaults at Gringotts. Receiving a gentle nudge from Matthew, Harry guided the key towards the lock. He didn't need to turn it, the door physically melting away upon contact, leaving his outstretched hand still thankfully clutching the key.

"Is it bad that I'm fully expecting something to jump out at us at any moment?" Hermione whispered.

"Don't tempt fate," Matthew returned equally as quietly, one of the few times he was letting it be clear that he was nervous.

Not wanting to hang around any longer than they had to, the three of them took a few steps into the awaiting chamber. Once they were inside its boundaries, the door reformed itself. Hermione let out a high pitched squeak as they were consumed by darkness. Harry was really hoping that it was one of his friends who gripped his hand. The other option didn't bear thinking about. Thankfully, the sensory deprivation lasted just a couple of seconds before flickering lanterns came to life, lighting themselves with small fires and painting the cavernous storage area in all its glory.

Hermione turned to Matthew. "Did you do that?"

"Nope. It must be automatic, which I suppose is an obvious design choice. Should we talk about the yelp you just let out?"

"Not unless you want to be left down here without the key."

Despite the extravagant security measures, there was nothing obviously fancy about their new surroundings. Harry reckoned that the people who'd created it weren't truly focused on interior decorating. The walls were carved from large blocks of grey stone, perhaps the very foundations of the building itself. Wooden shelves occupied most of the space, some of them showing signs of being rotted away. The floor was littered with boxes, presumably containing the objects Sirius and Remus had been hasty to clear away. The thing that struck Harry was just how much there was going to be to sift through.

With so much apparently to look at, the trio got to work straight away. They mainly stuck to the books, believing that information was going to be the only thing of interest stored in the heavily guarded basement. Whenever he opened a new one to read through, Harry did so with trepidation, wary of curses attacking him. He kept watching over his friends too, in case they fell foul of something unexpected. Their second year had proved just how dangerous books could be, even if they were just a combination of paper and leather. Yet, whilst the topics covered were certainly malicious and definitely not stuff they were supposed to be learning, nothing was of particular interest to Harry.

He didn't know how long they were at it for. Perhaps it was because of the inherent darkness seeping through the walls, but Harry felt an aching cold in his body, like something icy was reaching out towards him. He didn't understand the cause of it, putting it down to the influence of the dark objects around him. It was only when Hermione shouted for her boys to come over did he get distracted enough to forget about the impulse. The thought of her being harmed in any way by an item overpowered any concerns he had about himself.

"What is it?" he asked urgently, skidding across the floor where she was sitting, her legs tucked underneath her. Matthew hovered above them.

"Has Sirius ever mentioned someone called Regulus Black?"

"I…don't think so. He doesn't like to talk about his family. Why?"

She was holding a small, brown, leather-bound book. It looked very much like a journal rather than anything professionally published, which already made it stand out against the various other tomes they'd scanned. In response to his question, Hermione turned it around, showing the slightly discoloured pages of the book which might once have been white, but were now an ugly beige. There were scribblings across every side, all in the same handwriting, supporting Harry's initial hypothesis. And, on the page she'd selected, only one word was written multiple times, with haggard circles drawn around each one.

Horcrux.

"This guy knew what they were," Matthew surmised. "Does he go into any detail about them?"

"Not specifically."

"He'll no doubt be long dead," Harry said, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. "Which means that we can't actually ask him. Potentially our only source of information…"

"You don't know he's dead," Matthew argued. "He could be estranged for all we know. Or in Azkaban. It's certainly the type of place to house people who knew about this kind of dark magic."

"That's going to be a difficult conversation with Sirius."

"It's a good job that he's your godfather then, so I don't have to deal with that mess." Matthew tapped his chin. "The question is, why was Regulus Black so obsessed with horcruxes?"

"Maybe he wanted to make his own one."

"Or he already had one," Hermione said, snatching back the book to show them what else she'd read. "He's focused on two things in his writings. Horcruxes…and a locket."

"Are you saying that this locket could be a horcrux? One of Voldemort's?"

"I mean, if he was a dark wizard, he might have been in league with him . But why would he go against his lord?"

"The annotations don't exactly show that he was completely sane," Matthew pointed out. "Maybe he snapped, causing him to betray Voldemort. It could have even been through the influence of the horcrux itself."

"Can it do that?" Harry asked.

"You saw what sort of influence one had on Ginny Weasley. Even a grown man might not be able to resist."

"Did Regulus have the locket though? Does he mention its whereabouts?"

"From what I can tell, it was kept close to him," Hermione explained. "That's why his entries become more crazed the further you go on, as if the horcrux was impacting his mind."

"So…if the journal was here…that means he must have lived here at some point…"

"Which means it's entirely possible that the locket is still here, in Grimmauld Place."

Harry's focus turned to the boxes they'd been avoiding. "This is going to take even longer than I expected."