It starts funny, and it ends angsty. Just so you know. After all, I have to, because when things will get serious, Sirius won't have the time to get ansgty.
...
Nah. I'll always find a way to make him angsty.

Also, in this chapter appear a mention of something you might wonder about. It's only my headcanon that I use for all my fanfics about Sirius and the Blacks in general. Yes, I'm also speaking about "The journey back home".

It's terrible how quickly we take things for granted. Comments and reviews, for example. On the last chapter, both here and on , I got only one of these. I'm sad. I've always known people didn't like me.

So I'm experimenting; what comes out of it comes out of it.
"PLEASE COMMENT" in a whining voice.

And in case you hadn't seen it on the last update of chapter 21, I've proofread the whole story and made as many corrections as I could see needed. There are surely some things left, but I've not become British or American or a native of any country where English is the main language, so bear with it.
Besides typos and mistakes corrected, I also made changes about Euphemia/Fleamont and Dorea/Charlus Potter. I didn't know, back when I first wrote about James' parents.
I also corrected the enormous mistake I made with the timeline: Harry is currently at the Dursleys', since yes, the school year has ended, so Sirius couldn't have brought him back to Hogwarts. Silly me.

Last but not least, I've started a twitter account where I'll post about updates and other things for all my fanfics. Go and see if you're interested. (not used anymore)
https:_/_twitter._com/EKernor

Damn, I don't think I've ever written so much as I just did in the author notes.

Chapter 22: Family matters

Sirius had done everything he could to look muggle-presentable. He was wearing a black suit with grey stripes and gold and silver buttons, a silver tie, a dark grey shirt and charcoal leather shoes. He had been half-tempted to take a cane, just to look smuggishly noble, but it reminded him of Malfoy, and that had lessened his enthusiasm. And since there was no way he'd cut his hair, he had tied it with a golden thread.

If there was one reason why being a Black wasn't so bad, it was that he could look snobbish without even having to work on his attitude. Of course, Remus would say it wasn't only because of the clothes, but also because of his personality which was shitty to begin with.

But this day, Sirius had to admit he was outdoing himself. The point of the day was to sneer at three particular muggles, so he had to do his best.

Right. Of course, the true point of the day was to get Harry from the Dursleys', now that all the paperwork had been done and that Sirius could actually take care of his godson – legally, that was. But if he could sneer at the Dursleys in doing so, the young lord wasn't against it.

Sirius avoided a flying toothbrush, and grabbed the handrail before his face got smashed onto the glass window. He had a stupid grin on his face, and he didn't care at all.

Obviously, the grin was because he was on his way to get Harry back from the Dursley house. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was, for the first time since 1981, on the highest deck of the Knight Bus. Nothing at all. It wasn't as if he insanely loved this mode of transportation. Not at all.

James had claimed him insane, the first time they had taken the Knight Bus. Peter had only thrown up. And Remus had sighed, still swaying on his feet. Afterwards, the werewolf and Prongs had agreed it wasn't a surprise, considering how Sirius played quidditch. That was, flying straight into people, avoiding at the last minute, and from time to time jumping off his broom, only to fall back onto it a few feet away and/or below. There were even times when he'd end up standing, not only on his broom, but on the tip of said broom, while he'd beat away a bludger.

The point was, Sirius Black was currently on the third deck of the Knight Bus with an insane grin on his face, on his way to get Harry from the Dursleys, and there was an aged witch sitting in front of him who looked completely terrified.

Now, we could wonder why the Black lord was using the Knight Bus when he could have simply disapparated to Privet Drive. The answer was simple: he liked the bus too much not to take the opportunity. The fact that the Knight Bus was a public danger only added to the fun of riding it.

Finally the bus stopped in front of Privet Drive, n°4, in a foreboding screeching of tires. Sirius made the grin disappear from his face as he went down the stairs, and he politely saluted the driver before getting out. One minute later, the Knight Bus had disappeared, and no muggle, not even the one who was only ten feet away, had noticed it.

But the man surely noticed the well-clothed young man who suddenly appeared in the street. The muggle decided he hadn't been paying attention, but still got curious. This man didn't seem likely to know the Dursleys. No matter how much they liked to pretend, Vernon and Petunia Dursley weren't part of such a high society.

Was it silver, which reflected the light like that on the stranger's hand?

The black-haired, black-clothed man still made his way to the Dursleys' door, and rang the bell.

As the muggle squinted, he managed to see that indeed, it seemed that the man had a silver ring on his hand. With a big, black stone on it. Damn, whoever this man was, he was filthy rich.

Sirius waited only an instant, before he heard some mumbling behind the door, and the heavy footsteps of an oversized man. Dursley, senior or junior, he wasn't sure. Senior, most likely, considering Dudley Dursley didn't seem to be, from what Harry had told him, the kind of teenager who would come and open the door. He'd rather order his own parents around.

The door opened on a large man with an enormous moustache. Jackpot.

Vernon looked at the stranger from head to toes, taking in the expensive clothing, the black diamond on the man's hand. The only bad point was the long hair. And there was the fact that he looked strangely similar... As if he had seen him on TV or something, but with another garb, not like that. Not that respectable.

Sirius put on his most freezing smile.

"I believe Harry told you I'd be fetching him this monday? My name is Sirius Black."

The enormous man blinked, then started to get red in the face. But even if Vernon Dursley had two inches over Sirius – who wasn't small either – by the way, even if the muggle was at least thrice heavier than the wizard, the Black lord was still just that, Lord Black.

The animagus' smile got meaner.

"Don't start a ruckus now, Dursley, or the whole neighborhood will hear. I am quite certain you wouldn't want to be the center of this kind of gossip."

Vernon ushered the wizard inside and shut the door closed, even if he didn't like allowing someone like that in his house. It was still better than letting the neighbors see him argue with such a respectable-looking man. Even if the only thing about the wizard that was probably respectable was how he looked.

Harry's uncle bellowed for his nephew to come down with his things and hurry up, since someone had finally decided to take him back.

Only then did it sink in that this wizard was, in fact, Harry's godfather. From there, it all went downhill for the muggle, who made the connection with the report on the escaped convict from three years before.

Vernon looked back at the wizard, his beefy face losing its color.

"You are that criminal, the murderer they're searching for...!"

Now that he had recognized him, the muggle could just tell. Even if the man looked nothing like the picture they had been shown after the escape, he still somewhat looked like the picture. His face wasn't gaunt anymore, his hair wasn't shabby, unruly and dirty anymore, but it was just the same expression, and those eyes! Those freaking silver eyes, that almost seemed to glow with their own inner light! Even on the picture, he had been able to tell these eyes weren't normal! Of course the escaped criminal had to be one of those freaks!

The wizard stayed calm, though Vernon could just tell there was a terrible fury hidden under the mask.

"I was framed. Not that I wouldn't have been able to commit the crime I have been imprisoned for, but I was innocent. I was finally cleared last week. Of course, paperwork and all, I can't officially take custody of Harry, so he will have to come back for a week next month, and probably for the summer holidays of next year too, but I am allowed to take him at Black Manor for the rest of it nonetheless. As long as he spends one week a month here during the holidays, and as long as he gets back here if something happens to me."

It wasn't the complete truth. Of course, he had finished the paperwork, and he had every right to live with Harry. But this small lie, no matter how unpleasant it was, was to assure the teenager's security. Lily had sacrificed herself for her son, and the only layer of protection that remained from that sacrifice after the graveyard was this house. Even if it was the Dursleys' house, it was still a safe house, and it would remain so for one more year.

Sirius wasn't going to just throw away this safe house.

So he had to make sure that Harry's uncle understood the teenager still had to come back, even if it pleased no one in this house. Sirius wasn't the most pleased of all, but as he had explained to his godson, he'd rather see Harry alive and a bit unhappy than plain dead. And only two weeks out of eight with the Dursleys was already better than what the teenager usually had to suffer.

Sirius' smile completely disappeared, and Vernon Dursley really didn't like the glint that appeared in the wizard's eyes.

"And, Dursley. I am not asking you to love him as a nephew, seeing as you've already proved it was impossible for your prejudiced brain, but if you abuse him in any way, even verbally, I will come for your hide. Meaning, you will lose everything, from your job to your reputation. I am not only posing as someone important, muggle. I am someone important, and I have access to so much power, without even taking into account magical power, that you can't possibly imagine what I could do to your name. You'd better stay correct with Harry, even if you 'don't approve of imagination'."

Vernon looked like he wanted to talk back, but Harry appeared with his trunk just at that moment.

"My, Lord Black! It is one hell of an escort I am getting!"

Vernon Dursley positively blanched when he heard the freak's title.

"Ah, but Harry, you seem to forget you are also a lord. You are the last living member of the House of Potter, after all. As soon as you turn seventeen, you will be a baron."

Harry frowned. He hadn't heard about that...

But Sirius was doing it on purpose. He just had to rub it in Vernon's face, you see. It was absolutely necessary.

The animagus turned back to look at Vernon Dursley, and noticed that his wife and son were also here, just behind their husband and father. They had surely arrived while he had been looking at his godson.

Petunia Dursley almost choked on her tongue as she remembered where she had seen that particular wizard, years ago. Obviously she hadn't forgotten about that day. She had never known his name, but she was quite sure this was this James Potter's best friend, both of whom she had seen as she had departed her parents' house. They had come to visit Lily, and...

And that old wizard headmaster, Dumbledore, had said in his letter that the one who had revealed to her sister's murderer where Lily had been hiding had been this man. He had written that it had been James Potter's best friend, and she had just known it had been him. She had seen, all those years prior, she had seen the cruelty in his eyes.

"You're the one who sold Lily out!"

And she moved in front of Dudley, instinctively, as if the wizard was going to go after the rest of her family, after he had condemned her sister to death.

Petunia had not registered the fact that for the first time in years, she had said her sister's first name, and meant it. She had not registered the fact that for once, she had thought of Lily as her sister. She was too shocked with the fact that the one responsible for her sister's death was here, in her house.

Sirius, however, didn't miss these facts.

"And there it is, Petunia Dursley. There it is, the proof that despite everything, you recognize that you freakish sister was still your sister. But even so, I'd rather not hear you speak her name as long as you don't realize what it means. Lily was your sister, and Harry is her son. He is your nephew, but you don't seem to realize that."

Sirius made for the door, but stopped just before he left, turning once more to Petunia Dursley.

"And no, I wasn't the one who sold out James and Lily to Voldemort, though everyone thought so at the time. If you wish to contact me, send a letter to the Duke of Black, Black Manor, Norfolk."

The Dursleys were gobsmacked, when they realized that Sirius Black was not only a lord, but a duke. They only stared at the two wizards as the animagus grabbed the other side of Harry's trunk.

Only two thoughts went to and fro: they had housed a baron in a cupboard, and a duke had just threatened to destroy their lives.

Harry followed his godfather out of the house, and they made their way down Privet Drive under the curious eyes of the neighbors, who had always been told that the Potter nephew of the Dursleys was a terrible delinquent... Even if they had never seen the shadow of a proof. Most of them were more dubious about the matter than the Dursleys thought. After all, they had seen the boy working in the garden since he was little, and they had seen him hang around sadly with no friends. And they had seen the Dursley child walk around as if he owned the street. The neighbors didn't know all the truth, but they weren't idiots. They could tell there was something fishy about that delinquent story.

And now, the teenager could be seen leaving with a man whose clothes seemed right out of the tailor's shop. A man who had gold and silver buttons. A man who, as the rumor would soon make it known, had a ring with a black diamond on it.

A man who had claimed to be the child's godfather, unable to take him in for years, but here now.

The Dursleys would know what it was, to be the center of unwanted gossip.

And it was exactly what Sirius had aimed to do. After all, he couldn't really go after the Dursleys, as long as Lily's protection existed. He couldn't completely destroy their lives. It wouldn't have been good, if he did. And they hadn't done anything unforgivable... just on the limit, they were, and he couldn't bring himself to throw them in the mud. But they had to pay for what they had done to Harry, and if the most he could do for now was to get them as uncomfortable as possible, he'd do it.

When they reached a small square, Sirius stopped, and turned to look at his godson.

"Alright, I'll side-along apparate you to the gates of Black Manor, so hold onto your trunk."

Harry opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but eventually he thought better of it, and nodded. A square in Little Whinging was not the best place to question his godfather about wizarding nobility.

Harry felt as if his body was being passed through a tight pipe, and just when he had the feeling he couldn't breath anymore, he saw the high wall of the Black domain before him. Air rushed back into his lungs, and he almost fell on his knees. He definitely didn't like side-along apparition.

When the teenager looked back at his godfather, the animagus was smirking.

"Why doesn't it affect you all the same?"

"That's because it's side-along apparition for you, but plain apparition for me. I'm using my own magic to switch spots, but you are being forced by my magic. To me, it's only a bit unpleasant, and when you learn apparition, you'll see it's not so bad if you do it yourself."

Harry grumbled.

The two wizards bent down to get the teenager's trunk, but Harry could see how Sirius kept his wand in hand, just in case. Black Manor was protected, but they weren't yet on the domain, they were just outside. The fact that the Black estate was protected against intruders and unwanted apparition also meant it was protected against all kinds of apparition. They had to apparate outside, and they could get attacked while they were outside.

Maybe it would happen, one day, that Black Manor would be besieged.

Fortunately, nothing happened this day, and Sirius and Harry passed the gates without trouble.

Sirius levitated the trunk to a room on the second floor, where Harry would stay, and he told the teenager that he was himself two floors above. There was no need to go up the stairs, however, because the teenager could just call for the house-elf who would warn him.

After that, Sirius formally presented Harry and Stehrn, ordering the house-elf to obey Harry... unless it went against Sirius' wishes, of course. There the animagus gave his godson a stern look, and for a moment Harry felt sheepish. The teenager had registered only now that he was staying, for the first time in his life, with an adult who cared for him, but also had power over him. The Dursleys had never cared, and Molly Weasley had always seen him as a loved guest, even if as a child, and so she had never really punished him for anything, even if sometimes she had tried to keep some things from him. And last summer didn't really count, for Sirius had been too restrained himself to be a proper godfather.

Once Harry had finished putting his things in the wardrobe, and overall around the bedroom, the teenager went in search of his godfather. Black Manor was way larger than what he was used to – Hogwarts excluded, and anyway, there were hundreds of people in Hogwarts. Giving up, Harry called for Stehrn.

The house-elf appeared with a gentle "pop", and looked quizzically at his Master's godson.

"Harry Potter has called for Sterhn?"

Harry cleared his throat, ill-at-ease with this elf who wasn't adoring him like Dobby, insulting him like Kreacher, or defending her former Master incessantly like Winky. A house-elf, in other words, who was behaving pretty normal... considering he was a house-elf.

"Yeah, erm... Well, I wondered where Sirius was, in fact, and I thought maybe you knew?"

Sterhn's eyes lit up at the mention of his Master, and he straightened his back proudly.

"The Master is drinking tea in the sitting room of the first floor, Harry Potter. Sterhn will show the way to the Master's godson."

At the mention of tea and Sirius in the same sentence, Harry frowned slightly, remembering pretty well the smell of alcohol coming from his godfather's room the previous year, but he followed the house-elf. After all, if Sirius was doing his best to get rid of the nasty drinking habit he had developed, stuck at Grimmauld, it was for the better.

Sterhn led the teen to Sirius, and brought a drink for him at his Master's command.

Then the two wizards were alone.

"What was that about me being a baron?"

Sirius frowned, and put down his cup of tea.

"You don't know? The Potters are, or, well, were purebloods. Which means your name is old. It's actually the House of Potter. Your grandfather Fleamont died, along your grandmother Euphemia, of the dragon pox at the end of 1979. His younger brother Charlus, whose wife was my great-aunt Dorea Black, by the way, had died two years before with his son, your cousin, during a Death Eater attack on a wizarding restaurant. When Fleamont died, James became Lord Potter. Meaning you are Lord Potter, and as soon as you are of age, you will be able to act accordingly."

There was a silence, during which Sirius thought of the Potter ring of Lordship. Now that they talked about that... Harry didn't have it. He didn't even have the normal Potter family ring. Those rings were supposed to be tied to the family members, so they couldn't be stolen, and even if one lost them, they'd reappear when one would search for them.

The animagus was quite sure Ron Weasley had his, even if he never talked about it. So why...?

Oh, obviously. Harry couldn't have kept it at the Dursleys'.

"I think Dumbledore somehow disconnected your family ring when he left you at the Dursleys'. If not, it should have appeared when you were five, and it would have certainly caused some questions, be it at school or at home."

"Disconnected?!"

Harry sounded a bit anxious, certainly, and it made Sirius laugh.

"Don't worry, it only means it didn't manifest itself. It doesn't take away your rights or anything. Only the lord of your House can do that, and guess what? It's you. Try to think hard about it, and if you are willing enough, the ring will appear at your finger... just like that".

Harry started when he saw the golden ring, with the Potter family armorial bearings on it, which had just materialized itself on his right hand.

"It really appeared... But what does a lord do, exactly?"

Sirius relaxed on the sofa, looking at his own ring. He still wondered why the Blacks' was so different from the others, though he knew the story. He knew it was a family heirloom from old, and why they had kept it instead of replacing it with a formal ring of Lordship. Still, he felt there was something else, something more to the story...

But today wasn't the day he'd learn the truth about his family's origins.

"We wizarding Lords of the United Kingdom and of Ireland have given up most of our power when we agreed to the creation of the Ministry of Magic in 1707. Still, we have plenty left, and we have a role to play. Our official role is to vote the laws, alongside a few representatives of the people and of the Ministry, and to partake in any Wizengamot hearing calling for the whole court to be present. It was almost the case with your disciplinary audience, but that's only because Fudge was trying to make an example out of you. It was truly the case for me, and that, it's perfectly normal, considering I am myself a lord and the gravity of the accusations."

Harry almost seemed disappointed. The older wizard smiled, quite certain it had more to do with the fact that it all seemed boring to the teenager, and not because he felt this wasn't enough power.

"That's all?"

"That's already a lot, you mean. I fully intend to make use of my power to keep the laws against werewolves and other part-humans at a minimum. With some luck, I'll be able to influence Moony's life into something better. And there is still all the unofficial power which comes with being a member of a Noble and Ancient House. The Potters don't have much wealth, because they never cared for this kind of things, but it doesn't mean they were poor. You've seen what your parents left you in your vault. Let me tell you they never got the time to accumulate, and they lost some money as they went into hiding and so couldn't work, but even without me being responsible for you, it should still last you all your years of school, and hopefully three or four more years. I'm pretty sure the ancestral home in Devon is still yours, as what is left of your parents' house..."

There Sirius stopped talking for a time, his face somber.

"I'll have to take you to these two houses one day, I suppose."

There was a silence during which Harry did not dare to look at his godfather's face, sure as he was to find the older wizard's face morphed into a mask of pain.

"Anyway, some families are richer than others, and the Blacks are the richest. The Weasleys are broke, but they are way more numerous than the Blacks ever where, and that's saying something. Only a few decades back, this House had more branches than I have fingers. It's not surprising the House of Weasley is so poor, when you know they have even more branches than the Blacks had, and that most of those have at least two or three children."

After that, they talked a bit more about both the House of Potter and the House of Black. Harry learned a lot about what it would soon mean to be him, in barely more than a year. He still had much to learn, but he knew better now, than to believe he was only The-Boy-Who-Lived. Meaning, he was in deep shit, because he just couldn't see how he was meant to live between all the duties he'd have, with all the "titles" he had earned – more or less willingly, more or less randomly.

But eventually the conversation went back to a topic Harry had cautiously avoided since they had gotten out of Privet Drive and in Black Manor. In other words, the Dursleys.

Sirius looked at the teenager with cold eyes, but they both knew the coldness wasn't directed at his godson. Rather, it was meant for the ones who had been a terrible family to the boy. Sirius knew a lot about that. He didn't know per se what had happened during the years Harry had spent with his maternal family, but he knew quite a lot about, at least, emotional neglect. He had lived it.

"Now, tell me the truth: have they ever beaten you?"

Harry's eyes went wide, but more in surprise than in fear of discovery. The young wizard hadn't had the slightest doubt about his godfather knowing he hadn't been happy, hell, Harry had been more than vocal about his dislike of the Dursleys, but he had never believed Sirius had even thought about that. After all, he was quite sure that if Sirius had ever had any shadow of a proof that something like that had happened, the Dursleys would not have even been granted a warning.

"Erm... not really?"

Seeing his godfather's jaws cringing dangerously, Harry thought he'd better hurry to explain himself. He didn't exactly want the Dursleys to suffer the most gruesome deaths, after all. The fright of their lives, maybe. And if Sirius could manage to throw them off the pedestal they had imagined for themselves, it would be great. They had been horrible, after all. Cruel, sometimes. But not completely rotten either.

"I mean, Aunt Petunia and Vernon never beat me. Vernon would threaten to do it, but he never actually did. The worst I ever got was to be locked up in the cupboard..."

Harry stopped there, observing nervously Sirius who was slowly turning his ring of Lordship around his finger, as if to stop himself from doing something much more... aggressive.

The teenager thought there were a few things he'd better mention as a by-the-way, just in case.

"And there was that time when they put bars on my window, then again it wasn't as if I could actually have gone out that way, second floor and all... Without the Weasleys' car, that is. It was more of a problem for Hedwig, but they had made me lock her up, so... And even when they told me to stay in the cupboard for one week or so, they didn't actually lock it. I'm pretty sure they knew I went out at night to get something to eat. They would scream at me if they saw me out, and they would threaten me some more, but they never really got to it."

Now, if he didn't want his aunt, cousin and uncle to be killed by his godfather, Aunt Marge was another story... Obviously, killing her was still not a possibility, considering he didn't want Sirius to go back to Azkaban. But maiming her... Alright, just utterly destroying her life would do.

He'd have to get there at some point, even if Sirius had only asked about the Dursleys.

"As for aunt Petunia, well... She'd swing frying pans at me, but always when I was actually out of reach, and she'd make a point not to give me as much to eat as the others had, but she never said a thing when things disappeared from the kitchen at night. Of course, if I had taken more than necessary, she might have reconsidered, but I was cautious not to. She'd also make me work around the garden and the house, cleaning duty, breakfast and all that. Still, not in the cold or with truly dangerous things. I think it was more because she didn't want people to ask too many questions, but it doesn't change the fact I never got really hurt in Privet Drive because of the two of them..."

Sirius arched an eyebrow at that. He wasn't fooled, apparently, and he made it clear.

"And your cousin?"

Harry cringed. He had managed not to mention Dudley until then, but apparently it hadn't been meant to last.

"I guess you could say Dudley is a bully... but not only to me, though I was definitely his favorite punching ball until he learned I was a 'freak'. The other kids in the neighborhood, besides his cronies, of course, were just as afraid of him as I was. He's the biggest reason I never had friends for long. And there were a few times I got home with a bleeding nose or a bruise somewhere, but it never went past that."

Sirius sighed.

"Alright... I won't resent Dudley Dursley too much, considering giving a bleeding nose or bruises was something I did a lot, alongside hexing people, when I was at Hogwarts. Still, it doesn't mean I stand for it. At least, I wasn't a bully... just a guy you really didn't want to anger, and whom you didn't want to see you doing something evil either."

Herry wanted to object, thinking back to Snape's memory, but Sirius beat him to it.

"I know what you're going to say, Harry, but your father and me really weren't bullies. Prats, maybe, especially James, myself I was more the unexpected-and-painful-revenge type, but we never went after people without a reason. That doesn't make it right, maybe, but we always hexed people who deserved it... not taking into account the friendly joking spells, of course. You've seen Snape's memory of that particular time, but I assure you he never shied away from hexing one of us on sight either. There were a few times when I had to block dark curses from getting to James, Remus or even the rat, and they usually came from him. It was a good thing I was a Black, because I can't tell if Moony would still have both his eyes if not, and let's not speak of the time because of which you might not have been born."

Harry was still a bit doubtful, but he had to admit Snape didn't do well in the role of the pure-hearted and innocent victim. People didn't become Death Eaters because they had been treated a bit roughly at school... well, sane people didn't, if anything.

And no matter how much Harry hated Snape, he had to admit the wizard was certainly sane.

Saner than Sirius, actually.

"Now, back to your maternal family. If I understand this right, they never physically abused you, but they have verbally done so, and they threatened to get physical even if they never did. I don't count Dudley because he's a child, even if a horrible one. He became what he has been raised to be, and most of the time, it's hard to get out of the family shell. I'm sure you noticed during my trial, but even if I don't believe in blood purity and all that dragon dung, I am still a cruel man with a moral compass which is pretty damaged."

Harry wanted to argue, to say that yes, Sirius could do and say terrible things, but he only did that when it was necessary, and not for his own enjoyment, or because he thought it didn't matter, or because he thought it was his right. Sirius smiled, and didn't let him go on. He already knew all that, after all. It was the only reason the animagus wasn't completely disgusted with himself.

"No need to defend me, I can do that just alright. And don't worry, even if my natural moral compass is shitty, I've made an artificial one as I grew up. Now, answer my question about abuse and neglect."

Still unsure as to how someone could make up a moral compass, the teenager forced himself to go back to the topic at hand.

"Basically, yeah, it was more neglect than abuse. They surely made me feel unwanted."

"So in the end, it was constant emotional neglect, that sometimes went as far as emotional abuse, and occasional physical neglect?"

"I suppose..."

Harry shifted on his seat, and Sirius looked at him with squinted eyes. There was something Harry wasn't saying, but it seemed as if the boy truly wanted to say it...

"Harry..."

"The Dursleys weren't so bad, but there was still Vernon's sister, Marge."

Sirius listened silently as Harry told him how it always got worse when the horrid woman came to visit, but the silver of his eyes was glinting furiously. The fact that such an awful woman would breed dogs wasn't helping, and a vase exploded behind him when the teenager mentioned part of what the woman had said over the years, especially what concerned drowning weak puppies and insulting James and Lily. Sterhn immediately appeared and repaired the vase in silence before reminding his Master that the danger room was still operational, in case the Master still had much anger to release.

Harry tried to ask what exactly the danger room was, but Sirius ignored him, only saying that Marjorie Dursley might expect a visit from various competent authorities, just in case there were proofs of the treatment she inflicted upon the unlucky pups. And maybe they would find evidence about some other kind of offences... Harry chose not to ask.

When the conversation died out, Sirius felt he just had to direct it onto some other topic, much more light-hearted, and so they spoke of quidditch, of school, and finally, of Harry's fifth year. Unfortunately it hadn't been such a good year, and another vase exploded when the animagus saw the scar caused by Umbridge's Black Quill. Sterhn appeared again, and looked worriedly at his Master, who had a murderous smile on his face. Harry merely noted there was one more person on Sirius' Blacklist, and he didn't feel any kind of guilt at having made it longer.

Eventually Sirius sighed, and told Harry to make himself at home in the manor. Same as the other day, he could go around, but he'd rather be cautious with what he touched. Hopefully there wasn't any deadly trap that would be triggered by a halfblood walking on a certain part of the floor... though the Black lord wasn't sure about muggleborns. He'd have to look into that with the portraits.

Just as the teenager was leaving the room, eager to explore this awesomely dangerous manor, Sirius called him one last time.

"Dumbledore will come tomorrow. He thought you could prove useful in recruiting Hogwarts' latest missing teacher, and I have to say I quite agree. If you don't mind, I'll come along. I'm sure my own presence will endear Slughorn to come back to teach at the castle all the more..."

The young lord winced a bit, remembering the constant invitations to the Slug Club, and decided he would leave it a surprise for his godson, who, even if he had been absolutely dreadful in potions, was sure to get an invitation.

"Slughorn? Why would that teacher want to meet me before coming back to Hogwarts?"

"You'll see, you'll see..."

Sirius wasn't going to tell Harry everything. It wouldn't be fun if he did.

The door closed behind the teenager, and Sirius finally accepted the inevitable. He needed at least one glass of firewhisky.

Tea wouldn't do at that point.

The animagus had to agree with Dumbledore. It could have been worse. Harry hadn't been loved by his family, and he had hardly been coddled, but he was alive, and in relative health. Vernon Dursley and Petunia had made more of a show of being awful people, than actually been awful. Sure, they hadn't been good to Harry. They hadn't been correct or neutral either. They had been bad, at times. But they had never been truly horrible, even if he was sure Petunia's husband prided himself in thinking he had. Threats, and no acts. For once, Sirius wasn't going to complain about someone not being up to what they pretended.

Himself, he hadn't had a wonderful childhood. His parents loved him, sure, even after his Sorting, but it didn't change the fact that they loved him badly. He had had to be perfect, always, without exception, and when he said perfect, he meant it in a very particular way. He had had to be the perfect prejudiced pureblooded slytherin boy, until he could become a true Slytherin. They hadn't hated him for being different, they had pitied him, and it was worse than being hated. They had searched for what was wrong with him, and they had tried to correct him, until they had given up.

Given up, and cried about it.

Sirius, their perfect son, who should have been just like Regulus, who was perfect too, even if in another way, because they were both their sons, and they loved the two of them! Sirius had only one flaw, and no matter what they had tried, Orion and Walburga Black had been unable to make him right. He was perfect. He could be cruel, was a natural at the Dark Arts, was powerful, was one of the twinless twins of the House of Black, even! He was clever, strong, and dangerous. He was cunning, and proud of who he was. He was a perfect Black! But he hadn't believed in the truth, and he had rejected them!

He was perfect, and they couldn't have him.

They had always loved him, and it was worse than being hated, because it made Sirius feel guilty about his choices. Feeling guilty about being in the right, when they couldn't even see they were in the wrong! What punishment was that?

Of course, with time, his mother's despair had turned into bitterness, then anger, then hatred. Walburga had always been a bit unstable, and she had gone too far in her angered attempts to get him back, too many times. She had tried to be gentle, then brutal, to punish and to reward. He had seen them all, all the ways his mother had tried. Sirius had left the house.

Still, he felt guilty about being right, and about being unable to open their eyes to the truth. He felt guilty for not being like them, for not being able to see the world like them. He had always felt that way. He had always felt guilty for not being able to live like them.

And their love had not been shown, because they were Blacks, and their anger had not been shown, because they were Blacks. It had been present enough so that he'd know he was loved, and for him to know he was hated, but not so much that he had felt it. It was cold, to grow up as a Black.

Still, despite everything, he still loved them. And if he couldn't look at them, it was because it hurt too much to remember how they had been unable to understand each other.

They were his family, and he couldn't have them.

"Family matters."

A whisper, to no one.

The animagus would spend the next days dwelling on these facts, he just knew it. He hadn't had the time to, when in Azkaban, when on the run, when worried about Harry. Now, he wasn't in Azkaban, he wasn't on the run, and Harry was safe, at least for the time being. Now – like when he had been alone with his mother's portrait and Kreacher at Grimmauld – he remembered the hurt.

It was easier to say he hated his mother's insanity. It was easier to claim he despised his brother's choices. It was easier to pretend he wanted nothing to do with his family.

But now he had formally accepted to be Lord Black. He couldn't run away anymore.

The visit to Slughorn didn't help at all, unfortunately. Sirius had hoped that getting out of the manor for an hour or so would take his mind off things, and it succeeded. At first.

The young Black lord snorted as he saw his old potions professor appear where only an armchair had been present a moment before, to Harry's great surprise. The old Slytherin had always been one for theatrics, and while Slughorn complained about having forgotten about the Dark Mark, Sirius mentally wondered if that meant the old wizard actually knew how to make it appear. The spell wasn't exactly common knowledge...

Still moping a little, Sirius paid little to no attention to the discussion between Dumbledore and Slughorn, and when the headmaster left in search of the washroom, he only amused himself with the look on the potion master's face each time the old man couldn't keep his eyes away from Harry.

Slughorn had this habit of "collecting" people, after all, and the teenager surely was a great temptation. The fact that Harry's insanely famous godfather, Lord Black, and previous student of Slughorn was in the same room certainly was adding to the temptation. As soon as they had entered the house, Sirius had seen a few wizarding newspapers, all of them with pictures of him on the front page. Before Azkaban, in Azkaban, and after Azkaban. The animagus wouldn't have minded betting that Slughorn was hardly keeping his comments to himself.

But the visit turned sour for Sirius when the potions professor eventually relented, and started telling Harry about the pictures of his old students. Lily was on one of those.

Regulus too.

Sirius was in a bad mood when they returned to Black Manor. Harry saw this, and went straight back to his room. Without an exact reason to, the older wizard went to the basement.

The sleeping figure of his brother wasn't represented in the deathbed anymore.

Regulus wasn't amongst the dead nor the dying anymore.