June 7, 1991

"What do you say, little boy?"

Harry smiled cheerfully at the other men at the table. "What's the bet, again?"

Taking a sharp inhalation from his cigarette, the man serving as dealer for this game replied, smoke lazily trailing upward from his nostrils and mouth. "Twenty-five Galleons. You're certain your allowance can cover it?"

He lowered his head to eye-level with his stacks of chips, mentally tallying his bankroll, then carefully moving several stacks towards the center of the table. "I'll call."

One of the men, careful to conceal his cards face down, leaned toward his neighbor. "He understands the rules, da?" Receiving only a grunt in reply, he tossed his cards to the dealer. "Fold."

Harry looked at each of the remaining two players. "Now we show our cards?"

"Da."

Laying his hand out, face up, Harry looked innocently at the dealer. "Four aces is good, right?"

An explosion of profanity erupted from around the table. He was still gathering his winnings when his father and Dung entered the rebuilt servants' quarters.

"What's going on here?"

"I'm just playing a game," Harry said defensively, cursing the timing of their interruption.

"Come here, son." His father's voice brooked no argument. "Aren't you supposed to have lessons now?"

"This is when I used to have runes, but Miss Babbling is gone now. It's free time, I wasn't doing anything wrong!"

Sirius ran a tired hand over his face. "The guards are here to protect the estate and you. Not to teach you how to gamble."

"That's right," Dung said, sliding into the seat he'd vacated, evaluating the pot. "Best to leave that to the adults. Deal me in, mate, would ya?"

"I was just having some fun," he mumbled.

"This isn't the sort of 'fun' an eleven year-old boy should be having," his father said sternly. "But now that I've found you, there's something we need to talk about."

With one last, longing look over his shoulder at the ongoing game, Harry followed him back into the main section of the manor. "What is it?"

"Did you free Toffy?"

"Yes," he responded unflinchingly.

Sirius ran a hand over his face and let out a heavy sigh. "I thought we discussed this the last time you freed our elves. And how did you even find him? I instructed Toffy not to respond to your call."

Harry shrugged. His father didn't understand, couldn't understand. Elf magic was wild, free-flowing, constrained only by their servitude. Harry constantly chafed under the rules he was subjected to; he couldn't bear the idea of anyone, anything enduring actual slavery. "Elves should be allowed to do what they want, like everybody else."

"But everyone else has to follow rules and orders, too," Sirius countered. "You have to listen to your instructors. The guards have to listen to me. Someone working in a market or an inn has someone they take orders from."

That was true, but still Harry attempted to vocalize an argument, a reason why it wasn't so simple. He could feel the magic elves used; it yearned for mischief, for freedom. "I just- it doesn't seem right, not being able to refuse."

Before his father could reply, a muted crack sounded and another man hurried in from the reception hall. "Sir! Message for you, from the city's magister."

"What now?" Sirius mumbled, accepting the scroll and glancing it over. "Harry, we're not finished. I have to take care of this, but we'll talk more this evening, do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

"Go back and tell Dung to take you out on the grounds. It's a lovely day, and you could do for some time in the sun."

"Yes, Father."

Sirius grinned. "I love you, Harry. Be good." Then he followed the other man and they departed.

Making his way back towards the guardhouse, Harry arrived just in time to see Dung lay down his hand. "Look 'ere, three ladies beats your two-of-a-kind." A chorus of groans sounded from the other players. "Now, now, none 'o that, lads. Thanks for the game." He tossed a golden coin to the dealer, slipping the rest of his winnings into various pockets.

"Father had to leave," Harry said, moving to reclaim his seat at the table. "He said I should stay with you."

A lit cigarette hanging from his lips, Dung stood and redirected him with an arm around his shoulders. "'e also said 'e didn't want you gambling, if I recall. C'mon, kid, let's go outside, enjoy some sunshine while it lasts."

He frowned, but gave in and left the guards to continue their (much less lucrative, now) game by themselves. Together they walked towards the river, with Harry taking a seat while Dung rolled himself another cigarette and began to count out his winnings.

"So," he eventually said, once all the gold was out of sight. "'ow'd you do it?"

"Do what?" Harry asked.

"Pull those aces. Y'keep 'em up your sleeve?"

"No."

"Good, it's the first place they look." Dung reached over and raised one of Harry's hands. "Your 'ands ain't big enough to palm 'em. D'ya tuck them in your belt?"

Harry was confused. "The dealer gave me the cards. I'd never played poker before."

"You mean… you got four aces, 'onestly, the first time you ever played the game?"

He shrugged. "Guess I'm just lucky."

"Bloody 'ell! Lucky, 'e says!" Dung snorted, pulling a deck of cards from his robes and taking a seat on the soft grass. "Still, I s'pose if you're gonna play the game, you may as well do it right."

Harry watched him effortlessly shuffle the deck, fluidly tossing cards back and forth between the two of them. "The guards already taught me how to play."

"An' I'm gonna teach you 'ow to win," Dung said with a sly grin. "Wanna see 'ow I pulled those three queens?"

Albus extended his hand to the young witch. "Thank you very much for coming. It's been a delight to see you again, my dear."

"I appreciate your time, and thank you for your consideration," she said, shaking his hand and gathering her things.

"Naturally, we'll let you know when we've made a decision," Minerva said from her seat next to him. "It really was lovely to see you again."

"Same here, Professor," Bathsheda Babbling said, giving a weak smile before leaving the room.

"Always a pleasure to see a former student doing so well," Minerva said once they were alone.

His eyebrows rose. "Surely, you aren't suggesting we make her an offer?"

"No, I'm not. She's far too inexperienced for a position at Hogwarts. Still, if there should be another opening at Ancient Runes in the future…. Well, I hope she applies again."

Albus hummed in agreement, setting aside Babbling's short curriculum vitae in favour of the two more established candidates for the open faculty position. "It's been a long day; interviewing always drains me. Shall we weigh our options, and reconvene after dinner to make a decision?"

"Of course."

They walked together to the Great Hall in a comfortable silence, years of working alongside one another removing the need for idle chit-chat. The cavernous dining hall was quiet, with most professors choosing to spend their summer holidays away from the castle.

That made the loud greeting he received all the more surprising. "Hello, Headmaster!"

"Quirinus, I hadn't expected you back so soon." Albus settled into his seat, his dinner appearing on his plate as he did. "If I recall correctly, you travelled to the dark forests of Albania?"

Quirrell straightened his odd headgear, cheeks colouring. "Err, yes, that was my plan initially, I mean, but…"

"You changed your mind?" Albus interrupted, to spare them both any more of the man's stuttering.

"Yes. I decided instead to journey east, to see for myself the revival of Russia's magical community."

"Indeed?"

"I suppose that explains the ridiculous hat," Minerva muttered from Albus' other side. The Cossack hat Quirrell wore must have been sweltering in the July heat.

Albus chose to ignore both her jibe and the hat. "I trust your experience was educational?"

"Well, not as much as I'd hoped, but it was fascinating nonetheless! Have you ever been to the Invisible City, Headmaster?"

"Only once, long ago." Not so long that he'd forgotten his disgust at the omnipresent violence, thievery, and even more sordid activity rampant in the city.

"Oh, then you simply must visit again!" Quirrell gushed. "I've never been to such a clean, orderly settlement. After seeing what's been achieved there over the last few years, I'm certain that the, er, issues facing Russian witches and wizards will soon be settled."

"I know the ICW reached out to Kitezh's new leader, but the last I heard their invitations to meet were rebuffed."

Quirrell nodded vigorously, hurriedly chewing a mouthful of his dinner before replying. "Yes, the so-called 'Vulgar Lord'. I'd hoped for an audience, myself, but he's notoriously reclusive. Apparently he doesn't even live in the city."

"Is that so? What pushed him to bring Kitezh to heel, then?" Albus asked, intrigued.

"I don't know. The locals were, ah, rather hesitant to speak of him."

"I would expect them to be happy to extol his virtues, given the wealth he's brought to the city. Kitezh's economic revival certainly has attracted many willing customers."

Quirrell leaned forward, as though there was some danger of being overheard. "From what I saw, the Vulgar Lord chooses to invest most of those returns into his auror force."

Albus frowned, shaking his head in disappointment. "Another warlord, then. Perhaps it's for the best that you weren't able to meet him."

"I'm not so sure. Most of what I learned came from an acquaintance I met in the Invisible City. A fellow educator, a madam of transfiguration much like yourself, Minerva. She suspects a formal schooling system might soon take shape in Kitezh in the next few years."

"Really?" Minerva queried curiously. "Considering who Durmstrang hired to run their school, I'd say it's well past time for more options on the Continent. Is that why she was there? A prospective headmistress?"

"Oh no, nothing like that," Quirrell said casually. "She's a private tutor to the child of some wealthy aristocrat- are you quite alright, Headmaster?"

Albus leaned down to pick up the fork he'd dropped. "Yes. An aristocrat? In Kitezh? Did you happen to catch his name?"

'The child of a wealthy lord.'

"The name of her employer?" Quirrell cocked his head, confused at the question. "No… she never mentioned it, but nor did I ask. It didn't seem important."

'To the east.'

"Of course, just idle curiosity. Pardon me, I just recalled a piece of urgent business. Glad to have you back, Quirinus."

Leaving Minerva to continue the conversation, Dumbledore walked back to his office, digging out Babbling's application materials. Her work history was woefully lacking for an institution as prestigious at Hogwarts, so much so he'd scarcely paid any attention to the two items she listed as experience. The first, as an apprentice to a rather renowned runologist; the second, as a personal instructor for a private client, identity unlisted.

Could it be nothing more than a coincidence? He tossed a pinch of powder into the fireplace and called out his destination.

The Leaky Cauldron was quiet, relatively speaking. With Hogwarts letters set to go out next week, many shoppers were likely waiting to receive the school supply lists. He nodded to Tom the barkeep, who handed over his guest ledger upon request. Albus glanced over the listing, noted the room number, and walked upstairs.

A tall, hulking man answered when he knocked on the door. "Hello?" he greeted, his accent making the word sound like 'hay-lo'.

Babbling appeared right away. "Headmaster!" she said, clearly surprised to see him outside her door. "Won't you come in?"

His eyes still locked on the large, muscular man, Dumbledore stepped inside the rented room. "I wanted to speak with you about your application."

The young woman's hands fluttered from her hair to her hips, clearly anxious. "I'm aware I may not have the experience of other applicants, but it's always been my dream to teach at Hogwarts, and when I saw the Ancient Runes position was available-"

"Miss Babbling, please, relax." He held out his hand to the room's other occupant. "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Jakub Kowalczyk." He didn't look like a wealthy lord.

"You said you wanted to speak with me?"

Albus turned back to Babbling. "Yes, you mentioned in your interview that you spent the last several years as a tutor. Would it be possible for me to speak with your employer?"

The two of them exchanged glances, simultaneously looking at each other before turning back to him. "He's very guarded about his privacy. I signed rather stringent confidentiality agreements."

"How peculiar," Albus said lightly.

"As I explained during my interview, though, I have years of lesson plans from my time… there. It was a valuable experience, and I'd be more than happy to ask my employer to provide you with a letter of recommendation-"

He held up a hand, smiling in a way he hoped was disarming. "Your materials were very impressive, I have no reason to doubt the integrity of your experience." His eyes drifted back to the man, Jakub. "Mr. Kowalczyk, is this your first time in Britain?"

"No, but it's been several years."

"Has Miss Babbling shown you the sights? There are many marvels to be found on these isles."

Jakub merely smiled in reply.

His accent was clearly slavic. What were the chances that three separate instructors, all under secrecy oaths far more weighty than was the industry standard, were unrelated to the boy Krafft warned him of?

"I suppose, if you're accompanying Miss Babbling, you'll have plenty of time to explore."

She gasped. "Does that- do you mean I…?"

"Yes. Hogwarts would like to extend an offer of employment."

Babbling whooped with joy, leaping into Jakub's arms and allowing him to swing her around. "I accept! I can't believe- I never thought-" Her eyes welled up with tears of joy.

Albus caught Jakub's eye. "I hope you, too, enjoy your time here. I'm sure even Scotland's winters will be an improvement from back east."

And perhaps, in the meantime, Albus might be able to further narrow down the identity of Kitezh's mysterious aristocrat.

July 31, 1991

"I can do those, you don't need to!"

Lily's fingers slowly walked across the tabletop, seeking out Hannah's plate. "You clean too much around here as it is, dear." She paused then, a stray thought popping into her mind. "Unless- were the dishes dirty? They felt clean, but…"

"No, they were fine," Hannah said miserably.

Her plate was far too heavy. "You must've barely touched your dinner. I can make you something else, if you like?"

"No, it was good, but I'm not all that hungry."

She put the plate back down, making her way around the table to put an arm over Hannah's shoulders. "I think I know why you're upset."

"I'm not upset," she insisted stubbornly. "I'm just not hungry."

"You got your supplies list for school today, didn't you?" Hannah didn't respond, and Lily smiled at her. "I thought we talked about this in April, when you got your wand. You don't need to tip-toe around the topic of magic with me, Hannah. I daresay if you do, we won't have much to talk about from here on out."

"It's not that," she said, and Lily heard the clink of utensils on her flatware as the eleven year-old gathered the dishes from the table. "It's just hard. I'm going to miss you while I'm gone."

"I suspect most children your age feel a little nervous about leaving home. I know I was, when I first started at Hogwarts. But you'll have so much fun and make so many friends!"

It was the truth, and Lily meant her words. Still, she was almost certainly more devastated at her little friend's impending departure than Hannah was. Having her here, even only a couple of times per week made all the difference.

And even though it was obvious why Hannah always insisted on staying the night on today every year - Lily realised the sentiment the second year she stayed - seeing her so reluctant to leave was tearing Lily apart.

"I've got something for you," she eventually said. Opening the pantry door, she reached up to the spot she'd hid the gift, on the highest shelf. "Here you go!"

"You got me a present?"

"Open it up!" Lily grinned.

Once the sound of wrapping paper. "What is it?" Hannah asked after a moment.

Lily reached out for the book, smiling gratefully when Hannah caught her hand and guided it to the leather-bound cover. She opened it, flipping past the first page to display the contents. "You know that I'm a muggleborn, and, well, I felt so nervous when I started Hogwarts. I know it's not the same for you, but everything was so new and intimidating. So I wrote out all the things I could remember from my First Year, along with little tips and tricks for the lessons you'll probably have."

Hannah was silent, so Lily continued. "And- and it might be a little presumptuous, but I was hoping you'd be willing to write to me while you're at school. I know I can't- I mean, since you won't be able to write a normal letter to me, this here-" she gestured to the second page that was still open. "-Is instructions for a transfiguration spell that will enchant a letter to speak its message."

That, at least, got a response. The little girl giggled. "You want me to send you Howlers?"

"If you're feeling grouchy, you can," she chuckled. "But no, this is the Love Bird to Love Note spell. It whispers the message to the recipient. James started sending them to me in our Fourth Year, transfiguring them into more and more elaborate designs each time." Lily smiled at the memory for a moment before refocusing on the present. "It may be a little advanced for you, but I wrote out the movements and incantation in as much detail as I could, and made the theory as simple as possible."

"It's great. I love it, really," Hannah said, but Lily could hear how watery her voice was.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

She burst into tears, turning and crying into Lily's blouse. Eventually, Hannah calmed down enough to respond, her words interspersed with hiccups and sniffs. "I always pictured my mum and dad sending me off to school for the first time, but I'm going to be all alone! I thought my dad would be better by now!"

"Oh, Hannah," Lily murmured, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "It's not fair, I know. It shouldn't be this way."

Hannah wasn't the only one who thought things would be different. In another world, another life, a few weeks from now Lily would be sending Harry off to Hogwarts for the first time. Would he be assertive and forthright like she'd been, or mischievous and energetic like his father?

She emphatically shut the door on those thoughts. Hannah was here, and she needed Lily.

"I know they'd want nothing more than to be there for you, just like I know your mum and dad would be so proud of you," she said, holding Hannah in her arms. "And you're not alone, you have Amelia and Susan."

"I miss them so much. Sometimes I think it's getting easier, and then things like this happen and it hurts like I lost them all over again." Lily nodded; she understood that better than anyone. "And- and I really thought my dad wouldn't still be in the hospital."

That subject Lily couldn't touch, and if she were honest, she didn't relish the idea of being the one to broach it. "Would you like me to meet you there? At the Platform, I mean, to wish you off?" Hannah was silent, and Lily wished more than ever she could see, to read her expression, to get a sense of what was behind that quiet. "Not that I- I know it's not the same as your parents, but-"

"Yes," came the whispered reply. "I'd like that."

August 16, 1991

His leg bounced up and down, foot impatiently tapping the floor as his potions instructor slowly finished explaining the importance of the ingredients they'd be using for tomorrow's brewing session. Harry's fidgeting must have caught his eye, because he set down the ginger root he held and steepled his fingers.

"Am I boring you, Harry?"

Harry weighed how honest he should be. His potions tutor wasn't a bad teacher and was always patient with his frequent questions, not like his transfiguration instructor. Still, Harry didn't think much of the man's trade.

"It's just… what's the point?"

"Do you not understand the potion's effect?"

"I get it. It makes you smarter."

His teacher let out a sigh. "The Wit-Sharpening Potion makes you think more clearly. It doesn't actually make you more intelligent."

"Right. But all of this, this preparation. How does it make a difference which direction I slice the ginger root? And, for that matter, what's even magical about ginger to begin with?"

"This is what our theory classes are for. Understanding the properties of various ingredients, and how they interact with each other to produce different effects. It's the essence of potioneering."

"But why spend a whole day brewing just to think clearer, or to calm down, or to cure boils? Why not just use magic?" It all seemed like a tremendous waste of time to Harry.

"The answer to those questions would require a whole other lecture," the tutor said. "Which, of course, I'm happy to provide you. In the-" here he glanced over Harry's head to the clock on the wall. "-ninety or so seconds we have remaining, though, I'll answer the question that pertains to today's topic.

"Wizards and witches are understandably cautious about employing wand-based magics directed at their minds. Only licensed obliviators are trained in the use of the Memory Charm, and the Confundus Charm has a notoriously short-term effect. Wanded magic is the fastest, but not always the safest or the most reliable method. Thus, potioneering; in the hands of a skilled brewer, a potion offers a guaranteed and reliable effect on demand." He smiled, apparently satisfied with the answer he'd provided. "I'll have more to say on this topic when we next meet. Off you go!"

Why, oh why didn't he keep his mouth shut? Harry was already dreading his next potions lesson. Maybe he could drink some Wit-Sharpening Potion of his own beforehand to-

Wait. That was it! Harry paused, on his way outdoors to halfheartedly do his exercises. With Jakub off travelling with Miss Babbling, there was no one to notice if he skipped his physical training for the day. That left a window of opportunity, a fragment of uncontrolled freedom in his overly supervised schedule to do as he wished.

And at that moment, in a surge of preteen spite, Harry knew exactly what he wanted to do.

Running up the stairs to the sunroom, he tossed a cushion to the floor and took a seat in his usual spot. Pinpricks of sweat immediately broke out amidst the concentrated August heat, but Harry didn't mind.

The sunroom felt heavy, like the oppressive warmth was actually weighing him down. Dust covered every surface, making his nose and eyes itch with irritation. He'd only come up here a handful of times the last several years. Ever since the day he had that accident by the river, Harry rarely spent any time alone, constantly accompanied by Dung or one of the guards when he wasn't in his lessons. Most of his instructors spent their free time in the Invisible City, and his guards preferred the servants' quarters to climbing all the way here, on the top level of the estate.

Pulling his wand from his sleeve, Harry considered what he'd learned in his potions lesson. The Wit-Sharpening Potion didn't seem all that useful, truly. A standard dosage would last six hours, and 'enhance the clarity of thought'. What did that even mean? Why wouldn't it make you smarter?

He stared down at his wand, pressing his forefinger against the tip. How hard could it be, really? It's not like he paid any mind to the theory behind what spells he learned, and they still worked regardless, didn't they? All that nonsense about energy-transference and arcane distance didn't change the fact it was his magic, his will and intention that cast the spells, that created the effects.

… Right?

Harry grinned. Right.

He spent the next half-hour thinking, perspiration fogging his glasses and dripping onto his collar. Once he was confident he understood exactly what he wanted, Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes, bending his elbow to point his wand directly at his forehead.

"What was that?!" the city magister cried out, as all the windows of the sunroom burst outwards in a rush of purple energy, glass sparkling as it descended all around them.

The two of them walked the grounds while she briefed Sirius about the state of affairs of the muggle government in Russia. The explanation was to update him on the influx of new arrivals in Kitezh from the rest of the country, when the top floor of the manor suddenly exploded.

"Harry!" he mumbled, preparing to run back inside, coming to an immediate halt when a small figure appeared in one of the empty window frames.

"S'hot in here," he said loudly, voice slurring. "Rilly hot."

"Harry?" Sirius called out. "Are you alright?"

"Yup."

"Are you hurt?"

"Nah."

"Did you do this? Break all these windows?"

Sirius put a hand up to shield his eyes, focusing on his son while Harry looked around the wrecked sunroom. "Yup."

"You shouldn't have been up there at all!" Sirius paused to check the time, then continued, "You're supposed to be doing your exercises now. Get down here, young man, right now!"

"Mm'kay," Harry said, and then to Sirius' horror, he climbed out the empty window frame and took a step forward, immediately falling onto the roof and rolling off.

"ARRESTO MOMENTUM!" he screamed, slowing Harry's fall while the city magister quickly cast Cushioning Charms below him.

Once he was safely on the ground, Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to meet his eyes. "What's the matter with you?! You could've killed yourself!"

"Oh. Whoops," Harry mumbled. "M'sorry."

He put his hand under Harry's chin, forcing him to meet Sirius' eyes. They didn't appear glassy or out of sorts, despite the boy acting like a lunatic. "Have you been drinking? Sneaking bottles from the guardhouse?"

"Nah."

"Then what were you doing in the sunroom alone? What happened?"

"I donno. S'hot in there."

He looked up at the magister. "Summon a healer."

An hour later, Sirius pulled up a chair and sat down next to Harry's bed. "How's your hand?"

He stretched his fingers out as though testing the newly healed skin. "Fine, it doesn't hurt at all."

"You seem to have recovered up here, too," he said, tapping Harry's forehead. His befuddled condition had lasted exactly an hour - just like the other times his magic had acted out of sorts.

"Um, I guess so, yea."

"So. You want to tell me what all that was about?" Harry ducked his shoulders, a look of contrition taking shape on his face. "Don't even try it, kid."

The apologetic expression vanished, replaced by a mischievous grin. "I was practicing a new spell."

"By yourself? You know you're not supposed to go anywhere alone. And where did you learn this new spell?"

"I made it," he said defiantly. "Besides, Jakub's out of town, it was free time!"

"Just because he's not here doesn't mean it's free- Wait. You made a spell?"

"Yea. I guess it still needs some work."

"Okay. What were you trying to do?"

"Make myself smarter," Harry answered very matter-of-factly.

"How do you even know-!" Sirius stopped, and took a deep breath through his nose and counted to ten before he spoke again. "Harry, you're way too young to be using magic on yourself, much less trying to make up new spells. You could be hurt."

His lecture passed by entirely unacknowledged. "It should've worked," he insisted. "I was sure it would!"

"Why were you trying to make yourself smarter?"

Here, Harry at last looked guilty. "So I didn't have to learn how to make a Wit-Sharpening Potion."

"Harry…"

"What? I hate potions! It's so boring!"

"Your lessons are important-" Sirius started, but Harry was just winding up.

"I'm sick of my lessons! I hate it here, I never get to do what I want!"

Sirius slumped in his seat. The sad truth was, he was right. After everything that happened their first year in Russia, Sirius hid him away for his own safety, keeping him locked up in Blackriver like a prisoner. "You're right, I'm sorry."

"I want to go somewhere else, see something else!" The child's anger and frustration melted away, transforming into something desperate, something wretched and painful. "I want what you had, what my dad had!"

Sirius closed the distance between them, putting an arm around Harry's shoulders. "What are you talking about?"

"I want to go to Hogwarts."

"Harry…"

"Please!" he begged. "You've told me so many stories about it, how can I not want to go? It's where I belong, just like you and my dad!"

Harry could never go to Hogwarts. If the truth about his identity, about his survival emerged he'd never know any peace. Not only from the remnants of the Dark Lord's followers, but also from the people who'd try to control Harry's power, to use him for their own purposes. A wizard capable of defeating Voldemort at a year old would always have a target on his back.

And yet… he was just a boy, a lonely one, at that. Harry needed social interaction, needed friends that weren't mercenaries or Mundungus. Sirius had been so obsessed with protecting him from any possible danger, so consumed with keeping him safe; but he could do that and still let him be happy, couldn't he?

"You really want to go away to school?"

"Yea, I do."

The memory of Hilde's kindly charms professor - Holger something, wasn't it? - jumped to the forefront of Sirius' mind. "Okay." Harry raised his arms to celebrate, but Sirius stopped him. "But you can't go to Hogwarts. That's not an option."

"Why not? Where else would I go?"

Sirius stood up, walking over to Harry's dresser where a plain, wooden wand sat perched on display, cradled in an elaborate stand. "What if you went away to the school Hilde attended?"

"Durmstrang?" Good, she must've told him about it. "I… I guess, sure!"

"There are going to be rules, if you go. Rules you have to promise to follow."

"Yes! I'll be good, I swear!"

Sirius still had his misgivings, but seeing the joy on Harry's face cemented this as the correct move to make. He'd fire off a letter to the professor tonight, requesting a late admission, and then he and Harry would go away for a brief holiday. He deserved a little fun and excitement before he left.

He would find a way to make this work, for Harry's sake.

A/N: 5300 words before author's note.

I'm not a huge fan of writing Harry at Hogwarts. It's my natural instinct to get him in a different setting, to avoid the temptation of relying on canon. Of course, Hannah's a main character also, and she IS going to ol Hoggy-Hogwarts, so there will be a few recognizable events, just with different characters and resolutions. I'm particularly looking forward to 4th year :D

Gosh, I love this story and A Straight Flush. They're both wildly AU, and it's so much fun to write and think about. I also genuinely love hearing my readers' thoughts and reactions to the divergences that I come up with. It's great fun.

Another year gone by. Fun fact - with the next chapter of AMR (which is in the pipeline and will either be next or after I update my H/Katie fic), I will officially cross 1 MILLION words published to FFN. A million freaking words. Absolutely crazy! I really need to publish an actual book.

Happy new year, and as always,

Stay safe, healthy, and happy! ~Frickles