Disclaimer: I still don't own it, and that's perfectly okay with me. I prefer to write fanfiction - I wouldn't want the fame anyway.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews. I'm glad you enjoyed that chapter. You're right, Harry's response to being accused of murder is definitely horrifying. It shows what a miserable upbringing he had - the fact that he's willing to accept what others think of him so easily. It's really sad.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

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Molly Weasley observed sadly as she made sandwiches for lunch for her family, Hermione, and, as of this morning, Harry. He sat quietly, listening to everyone else's banter around him. Every now and then, he tried to smile, attempting to put on a brave face for all of their benefit. But it was plain to see that he was both overwhelmed and extremely scared.

Molly would never forget the moment when they had all come to pick Harry up from Grimmauld Place this morning. Sirius had held Harry in a comforting embrace, softly reassuring the boy that he was going to be okay. "It will be all right, Harry," he'd said as he stroked the boy's hair, his voice cracking as he failed to hold back tears. Harry's heart had been displayed all over his face, and he had been crying too as he clung on to Sirius. It was clear that the two of them had developed a bond that was eternal, and Molly felt guilt squeeze her own heart as she realized how incredibly wrong she had been about the man.

When she had found out that it had been Sirius who had taken Harry into hiding, she had been extremely concerned for the boy's well-being. She knew by this point that Sirius was innocent, and she knew of Ron's role in that discovery. She had asked him to tell her everything about that night, and when he did, she knew there were things he was leaving out. She, after much persuasion, had been able to get the story out of him, and she hadn't liked what she had heard. Sirius had been so desperate to get at Peter Pettigrew that he hadn't cared who he had to hurt along the way. After all, he had broken Ron's leg in the scuffle. It might have been an accident, but it didn't matter to Molly. The man had spent twelve years in Azkaban among the Dementors. Innocent or not, who could possibly come out of that sane?

"But you don't understand, Mum!" Ron had defended him fiercely when Molly had exclaimed furiously over his broken leg. "I shouldn't have let you convince me into telling you that, because I knew how you'd react! Of course he wasn't right in the head! Bloody hell, Mum, I had Pettigrew in my pocket! I had the rat who killed Harry's parents and framed Sirius for their murders! I'd've done the same thing if I were him!"

"But what if he hurts Harry?" Molly demanded, her heart racing wildly in her chest. "You-Know-Who's just come back, and Harry's been accused of murdering the Diggory boy!" She'd felt her eyes fill with angry tears at the sheer injustice of it all. "And Sirius might go off the deep end at any moment, and he's got Harry! I would think you'd be more concerned for your best friend!"

"Molly," Arthur said in a placating tone as Ron's face turned red. "It's been a year since that incident with Ron."

"Yes, and Sirius has been on the run since then," Molly shot back. "Do you think he's had any time at all to heal? Azkaban messes people up, Arthur. You know that as well as I do. People who don't even have life sentences are never the same when they get out of there!"

"How dare you accuse me of not caring about Harry's safety!" Ron exploded, his blue eyes flashing. "Unlike you, I know when someone can be trusted! You didn't see him! You didn't see the way he looked at Harry!"

"Ron, do not speak to your mother like that," Arthur said sternly, placing a hand on Molly's shoulder. "Look," he said quietly, "I understand that everything is a mess right now, and none of us know where anything's going. But this is the situation. Sirius has Harry, and none of us know where they are. All we can do is trust that he will be taken care of. There's no point in fighting amongst ourselves - things are already bad enough without us all falling apart."

And when the Weasleys had received their first letter from Harry, Molly had still worried. He sounded like he was safe, obviously, but his letter had been way too short for Molly's tastes. Having long accepted Ron's apology for his harsh words on the day of his return to the Burrow with the twins and Ginny after the horrific end to their year at Hogwarts, she saw how badly he needed to hear from his best mate. When the letter arrived, she saw the deep concern on his face at the shortness of the letter, but she also saw his understanding that Harry was still healing emotionally from the horrible events that had forced him into hiding. Still, she worried - Harry had said he was being taken care of, but he also said he was fine when he spent time at the Burrow during the summers before his second and fourth year despite the fact that he looked so skinny and was starved for love and affection. He said he was fine, even though Molly had a horrible feeling that all was not right with those Muggles he lived with. How many times had she begged Albus to let Harry just stay with them? It broke her heart, the way she'd see his eyes follow her and her family, like he was drinking in every moment and memorizing it. It was plain to see that he longed for the kind of family relationship the Weasleys had. Her mind always wandered back to that first sighting of him - he'd been so polite when he'd asked her how to get onto the train platform. Finding out that he was Harry Potter had been a shock to the system.

"You know I care about Harry, too," Arthur had said gently the night Harry had sent that first letter from hiding. "But he's not ours, Molly. Sirius is Harry's godfather, and I know you don't like it. And to be honest, what he did to Ron bothers me too, love. And do I worry about Harry being alone in hiding with him? Absolutely. But we need to listen to Ron, too. He was there that night - we weren't. If Ron is willing to trust Sirius, we shouldn't doubt him. Ron worries about Harry just as much - if not more - than we do. That boy has been worrying himself sick over him - today is the first time I've seen him smile since ... Merlin, Molly, I haven't seen him smile once since he returned from Hogwarts. Not until today, that is."

Molly knew she should listen to Arthur - he had never steered her wrong before. He had always been her rock; they'd gone through hell together during the First War. The loss of her sweet, fun-loving brothers, Gideon and Fabian, had broken her into pieces. Unfortunately, Fabian had been a different person in those last few months - in the summer of 1981, he had been days away from marrying his beautiful fiancee, Dorcas Meadowes, when she had been viciously attacked by You-Know-Who himself. She'd sustained severe injuries and gone into a coma, and the cruelest thing of all was that she had died in Fabian's arms on their wedding day, only hours before they were to get married. He had died with his twin brother in a brutal attack in September, perpetrated by five of You-Know-Who's most sadistic supporters. She'd heard stories about that battle from people who had been fighters and witnesses to it, and remembering what she'd been told always made her shudder. After Dorcas's murder, and after seeing his twin die only minutes before he did, Fabian Prewett had done things in that battle that ... she couldn't bear to think of it. War changed people, and every time she heard Alastor Moody spout that her twin brothers had died like heroes, it made her livid. They should never have had to fight in the first place. Fabian shouldn't have had all his dreams shattered - he should never have had to turn into the vengeful, angry man he had become.

And maybe that was why she was so scared for Harry, too. Fabian had never been in Azkaban, but Sirius had. Both of them had faced horrific losses, and if such a thing could change Fabian so drastically without him spending time with the Dementors, what would it do to Sirius? She'd heard Ron's explanations of that night, and she tried to listen to Arthur's reassurances, but late at night, she tossed and turned in bed, Harry's stricken face after the Third Task filling her mind. She'd never forget him weeping uncontrollably over Cedric's body, the sobs and howls of Cedric's father reminding her starkly of her own keening cries upon hearing the news of the fate of her beloved twin brothers.

And then, there had been the night that she and her family, sans Percy and Charlie, traveled to Grimmauld Place for the first time. Sirius and Arthur had been corresponding over the past little while, as Sirius had been wanting ideas for Harry's birthday. Molly couldn't deny that it had hurt when Harry had chosen not to spend his birthday with the Weasleys, only wanting Sirius's company. "I worry that he's becoming too emotionally attached," Molly had said that night as she recalled the brave face that her children had tried to put on.

"Molly," Arthur said gently. "Let Harry be." He had looked deep into her eyes. "I know you're still not over what he did to Ron," he said softly. "But there's something more to this, isn't there?"

Arthur knew Molly too well - there was, indeed, another reason that she resented Sirius. "He should have had Harry all along!" she burst out, her mother's instincts rising to the surface. "If he'd been able to think straight the night the Potters died and didn't want revenge so badly, Harry wouldn't have had to grow up with those Muggles!"

Arthur embraced his wife and held her close for a long moment, whispering only two words. "I know."

"How am I supposed to forgive that?" Molly asked, her voice choked.

"Time," Arthur said quietly, kissing the top of Molly's head - her heart always melted when he did that. There was so much love in that gesture; it said more than words ever could. "It will help. Seeing Sirius with Harry will help."

But when they'd arrived at Grimmauld Place, Molly had taken an instant dislike to the house. It had a very sinister quality to it, and it spoke of darkness. Harry, someone who needed light and hope more than anything in the world ... how could this be a sound environment for him?

But as the night went on, she saw Sirius and Harry's relationship. She saw how it counteracted the darkness and somehow made it bearable. She saw Harry's eyes, and the look in them. Despite the terrible circumstances, he was doing so much better than she could ever have imagined.

But still, when she and her family left the house that night, there was still something within her that just couldn't let her misgivings go. Harry was supposed to have spent the summer with her and her children - none of this should have happened. Cedric Diggory shouldn't have been murdered. Harry shouldn't have been accused of committing the crime. Percy - Merlin, Percy shouldn't have left them - the tears she had shed for him had been endless. Albus shouldn't have been horrifically violated the way he was - she felt sick and revolted at what had happened to a man she had once believed to be invincible. And above all, You-Know-Who shouldn't have returned; she had thought those days were long over, but she was horribly, terribly wrong.

And then, the trial had come. Seeing Peter Pettigrew in the flesh had almost been too much for her. That monster had been in her house, under her roof, with her children, for years. And she hadn't known it. She was a terrible mother. What rat lived so long? How could she not have suspected anything was amiss? He could have hurt Percy. He could have hurt Ronnie. Seeing him murder Cedric and hurt Harry had reduced her to a shaking, sobbing mess on the bench in the courtroom.

Then, there was the false memory. Selfishly, she wished she had never seen it. She was so enraged at Fudge and the Mind Healers at that moment that she felt like she could have committed crimes herself. She'd needed a Dreamless Sleep potion last night - the images were just too much for her mind to process.

And now ... this. This morning, when she'd seen Harry and Sirius say goodbye, she had fully realized a truth that she had known, but hadn't wanted to accept. Sirius was making up for his mistakes, and had helped Harry heal in a way she hadn't thought possible. And now, as Harry sat at the kitchen table surrounded by her family, he had, again, been submerged in a well of turmoil. Sirius turning himself in would all work out for the good, she hoped; Sirius would have his innocence proven, and he could take Harry away from those Muggles and they could live together in peace. The whole world knew now that Harry hadn't murdered Cedric, and they were preparing for a second war with You-Know-Who that would ravage their world. Harry needed all the happiness he could get.

Dread seized her gut, as she knew for certain that Harry would be more involved in this war than anyone who cared about him wanted him to be. Looking at her family, she knew they all knew it, too. But they, unlike her and Arthur, didn't know why. At the first Order meeting, Minerva had told them that there was a prophecy concerning You-Know-Who and Harry. She did not tell them the exact wording of the prophecy, which frustrated Molly to no end. She knew it was for a good reason, though - only a select few people knew the entirety of it, because if You-Know-Who ever was to capture any of them, there was less of a chance that the Order could be betrayed, or someone could be forced to tell against their will. There were many awful methods of torture that some ... just could not withstand. Molly shuddered, just thinking about it.

And her children ... she knew with a certainty she couldn't deny that they would be involved in this war, too. She realized that lately, she had been losing her temper with them a lot quicker, snapping at them before she could think better of it. She knew this didn't justify it, but the reason she was doing it was the pure, undiluted fear that gripped her at every moment, whether she was awake or asleep. Because the fact of the matter was that Harry was one of them now, though he was Sirius's godson. She and her family had taken him into their hearts. There wasn't anything they wouldn't do for him.

But Molly was a parent. She loved each and every one of her children, and the thought of anything happening to them was mind-numbing. And Harry was You-Know-Who's prime target. She remembered all too well when she heard about that boy, Jeff, drawing up a petition to kick Harry out of the school due to Cedric's murder. The part of her that feared for her children, the part of her that kept her up at night worrying, understood where that boy had come from. To have your children in the same school as someone who You-Know-Who was gunning for ... the prospect was terrifying.

But her children weren't about to leave him. They understood what it might cost them. And, even without Harry being in the picture, Molly knew how much danger her family would still be in. They were considered the biggest bunch of blood traitors around, and fighting this war was the right thing to do.

And how could she look Harry, that sweet boy who needed love more than anything, the boy whose laugh was so rich and contained so much joy when he was with her children, in the eye and tell him that he was too dangerous to associate with? How could she possibly hurt him that way? The simple answer was, honestly, that she couldn't.

So instead, she and Arthur had joined the Order. If they were going to be targets anyway, they might as well know everything they could about how to defend themselves. They knew what Harry meant to them, and they were willing to fight with him. It scared Molly beyond belief, terrified her to her very core. But for the wizarding world, for peace and security, and above all, for Harry, she was willing to put her life on the line. And Arthur and her children, who had matured beyond their years, were willing to do the same. And every time she thought about Harry, she remembered how he had almost sacrificed himself several times, one of them to save a girl he had barely talked to ... her little princess, Ginny. That brought her to tears every single time she recalled it. Harry was a blessing to her and her family - truer words had never been spoken.

Harry let the talk swirl around him as Molly placed the plates of sandwiches on the table. "Come on, let's eat," she said, her tone softer than it usually was.

As they all did so, Molly observed as her family tried to engage Harry in conversation. He responded at the appropriate times, but his eyes were far away. Molly knew how much he cared for her and her family - that was plainly visible. She didn't doubt that for a single second. But she knew that today, his heart wasn't with them - it was in a holding cell with Sirius. She knew fear was swallowing him up, even though he had tried to be brave. She knew that it was torture for him while he waited for news, for any scrap of information that would reassure him of his godfather's well-being.

When would the trial be? How long would it take? Those questions swam through Molly's mind as well. She wondered if Ron, Ginny, and the twins would offer their own testimonies in Sirius's defense, but she did not have to wonder for long. She knew her children well enough to know that they would - even Ron, who had not had the best first impression of him. After all, he had defended him fiercely when Molly had cast aspersions on his character.

Harry ate slowly, but it looked like he wasn't tasting the food. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said quietly, sounding so subdued that Molly wanted nothing more than to take him into her arms and cuddle him until his heartbreak dissipated. She had always done that with her own children, after all. "This is delicious."

Molly smiled tremulously, knowing that Harry was trying his best for her, and she ached. That poor child. Life would never, ever be simple for him, would it?

"It was my pleasure," she said, going over to him and ruffling his hair. Harry gave her a small, pained smile.

"C'mon, mate," said Ron, pounding Harry on the back several times. "Why don't we go and play some Quidditch?"

"Yeah, it'll be fun," said Fred. "It's a beautiful day."

"A good game is sure to get your mind off things for a while," said George with a smile. "You can even join us, Ginny."

"Thanks a lot for giving your permission, you prat," Ginny scowled sarcastically at her brother. "Tell you what. I'll let you beat me to the Snitch," she grinned at Harry.

Harry looked back and forth between the Weasleys, and addressed Molly. "Is it safe?" he asked quietly. "Can I do that?"

Molly felt her heart squeeze; Harry was all too aware of the danger he posed, and it almost broke her. She wished for all the world that he could be ignorant of such a thing. "Yes, dear," she said softly. "You can go. Two of the Order members, who are also Aurors, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Sturgis Podmore, have placed powerful wards around the house, and they include the orchard where you all play Quidditch. It's all right - go and have fun."

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Harry normally felt light and free when he was in the air, but today, that feeling was missing. He tried, Merlin knew he did - he tried to feel that sensation of euphoria that normally gripped him when he was airborne.

But today, it wasn't there. Even when he dove, weaved, and corkscrewed, his and Sirius's goodbye kept running through his mind. He still remembered the way that both of them had been crying as they clung to each other. He remembered the horrible thought that he might never see Sirius again, though his rational mind told him that he was being ridiculous. He knew what he had said the night before had been true - the Ministry wouldn't play games now, not with everything they had already done. Cornelius Fudge was no longer the Minister of Magic; he was now locked securely in a cell in Azkaban.

Rufus Scrimgeour was an unknown entity, though, and Harry couldn't help but be fearful of the unknown. But then he thought of the people in the Order who were also Aurors, and Amelia Bones, who was the most powerful person in law enforcement, knew of Sirius's innocence. She would make sure his godfather received a fair trial, wouldn't she? She had to - she just had to.

But every time Harry thought of Sirius locked up in a cell again, even if it was to await a trial that would finally prove his innocence ... it made his throat constrict. It had only been several hours since they'd said goodbye, but Harry missed him terribly already. They might have only spent a month and a half together, but he had truly helped Harry heal from one of the most terrible times of his life. Each memory they had made, their love of music as it played on the stereo, their laughter, Sirius complaining about his so-called old age, the memories of Lily and James that he had shared with Harry ... they swirled around in his mind as the sun shone, a joyous, blinding beacon in the bright blue sky. But Harry couldn't enjoy its beauty today - it should be dull and miserable outside instead.

And he felt so guilty, too. He was with his friends, the friends he cared so deeply for. Despite the danger he posed, Molly and Arthur Weasley had taken him into their home. He knew of their financial situation, and still, they were willing to have him under their roof, feed him meals, and take care of him. Harry should be happy - he had always been overjoyed to be at the Burrow before. And his friends were trying so hard to cheer him up. But he felt like he was just going through the motions, and it said an awful lot that not even flying could lift his spirits.

After several hours, they all went back into the house, Harry still feeling dejected. He attempted a smile as Ron teased Hermione about sitting on the grass with a boring old book while everyone else flew in the orchard. Hermione, looking annoyed, nagged Ron about his schoolwork. It was the usual run-of-the-mill bickering that Harry would normally roll his eyes at, but he couldn't even muster up an exasperated look at the two of them. Instead, he let the twins banter at them as they trooped into the house, and Molly gave them all a cold drink of water.

They had been sitting at the table for several minutes when a voice called from the living room. "Molly? Are you here?"

Mrs. Weasley was up like a shot. "That's Sturgis," she said quickly. "He must be in the fireplace." She looked at Harry, her face full of compassion.

Harry couldn't get to the living room fast enough, and all his friends and Bill followed. He had never met Sturgis before, but he knew who he was. He ... he might have news on Sirius. He felt his breath catch and his heart begin to race as he entered the living room, where Molly was telling Sturgis that he could come through the Floo.

The family sat themselves down, and seconds later, Sturgis whirled out of the fireplace. Harry got his first look at him, and the first word he thought of was professional. Sturgis was dressed well, and there was something reassuring about the way he held himself. There was something very comforting about the man's eyes, too. They spoke of someone who seemed to know exactly what was going on, and what would come.

"Good afternoon," he said, giving everyone a smile. "It's good to see you all again." He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Harry. "Good afternoon, Harry," he said quietly. "It's nice to meet you."

Harry was bursting with questions - he was desperate to know if Sirius was okay. But he had to be polite to Sturgis. "It's nice to meet you too, Auror Podmore," he said, shaking his hand. He observed that Sturgis had a firm, confident handshake.

Sturgis smiled. "Call me Sturgis," he said. "And that goes for all of you, too."

"Take a seat, Sturgis," Molly said. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"That's very kind of you, Molly. But no, thank you," Sturgis said. Turning to Harry, he explained, "I'm here with news about Sirius."

Harry held his breath, truly appreciating the fact that Sturgis was not engaging in any more small talk. He could probably see how riddled with anxiety Harry was, and therefore, he was getting straight to the point. "How is he?" Harry couldn't help but ask, instantly knowing that his feelings were clearly displayed in his voice.

Sturgis's eyes softened, and something in them captured Harry. "He is in a holding cell," he said quietly. "But don't worry. We are not letting anyone hurt him, and there are no Dementors anywhere nearby. He's being given proper meals, and plenty of water. The holding cells are very unlike the cells at Azkaban. I saw him this morning, and he's missing you."

Harry felt sick at the confirmation that Sirius was locked up in a holding cell, but he couldn't deny that Sturgis's willingness to tell him point-blank what was going on made him feel better. Sturgis was showing himself to be an adult who didn't try to hide the truth from him. Harry had run into way too many of those, though some of them meant well.

Sturgis gave Harry and his friends a moment to let that information sink in. "The trial date has already been set," he explained, his expression serious. "It will be on Monday."

Harry felt his heart sink - it was only Tuesday. That meant that Sirius would be locked up in that cell for six days. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to go to Sirius and hug him.

Sturgis's eyes locked with Harry's. "I know that seems like a long time from now," he told him gently, and Harry felt like it was only the two of them in the room. "But you have my reassurance that Sirius is not being treated badly."

"You'll forgive me if I don't quite believe you?" The snide mutter came from George as he glared at Sturgis.

The man sighed, looking not at all put-out by George's words. On the contrary, he suddenly looked haunted, guilt-stricken, and old. "I know," he said quietly. "You're well within your rights not to believe a word I'm saying." He turned to Harry again. "The trial for Healers Pollander and Shaddock is on Thursday," he said. "We don't expect that to take long, since we have more than enough evidence to convict them. This will also give you time to prepare your testimony, if you wish to speak in Sirius's defense."

Harry felt a deep sense of responsibility then, but also a firm, unyielding conviction. Of course he was going to speak for him, even if Sirius didn't want him to go through that. How could Harry not? Sirius had done more for him than anyone else in the world. If he had to, he would spend every waking moment thinking of what to say.

"Us, too," said Ron, looking at Hermione, Ginny, and the twins, and they all nodded. "Can we speak for him?"

Sturgis smiled. "You can," he said. "And I will be doing the same." For a moment, Harry saw another influx of guilt pass through his eyes. He was curious to know what that was about, but knew it was none of his business. There was something more to this man than met the eye.

"Can I ... can I see him before the trial?" Harry asked then, dreading the answer. He had a feeling he knew what it would be.

Sturgis looked at him sadly, and Harry got the feeling that he wished he could give a different answer than the one he gave. "No one in the Ministry holding cells is allowed visitors before their trial, except for Aurors," he told him, his voice gentle. "But you can write to him. I'm sure he will be happy to hear from you. I will be seeing him tomorrow."

Harry wanted so badly to argue, but knew there was no point in doing so. He nodded, his heart aching as he ran upstairs to the room he was sharing with Ron, and retrieved a piece of parchment and a quill.

What should he write to Sirius? What could he possibly say? What could honestly capture the emotions he was feeling? How could he express how much the man meant to him on a simple piece of parchment?

But in the end, it was easy. After a moment of thought, he wrote something down. It took him only a few seconds, and it was only three words.

But they were the three words that defined their relationship, that had cemented their bond forever. They were the three words that were never to be forgotten, that resided in their minds and hearts. And he knew Sirius would understand all the love that was contained in those three simple words.

When Harry came back downstairs, Sturgis was waiting for him in the hallway. Harry realized that he wanted to have a word with him, alone. "Sturgis?" Harry asked softly as he handed him the piece of parchment.

"Thank you, Harry," Sturgis said, a deep sadness in his tone as he took it. Harry was relieved to see that he didn't look at it, but he hadn't thought he would, somehow. "Harry, I ..." He stopped, clearing his throat. "Harry, I am truly sorry."

Harry looked at him blankly. Why was Sturgis apologizing? He couldn't help the situation Sirius was in, could he?

Sturgis spoke again, his tone containing a hidden depth of emotion. "I am so sorry for what the Ministry has put you through," he said, and Harry could tell he meant every word. "It has been so disgustingly, cruelly unfair. And I am so sorry for what your godfather has been through."

He looked solemnly at Harry, and the boy knew that he was speaking the truth. "You have my word," he said slowly, "that by Monday afternoon, Sirius Black will be free. He will no longer have those accusations hanging over his head, just like you no longer do. I swear to you, Harry." His eyes locked with the boy's again. "No harm will come to him while he's at the Ministry. I will make sure of it."

And in that moment, Harry felt his heart slow down. There was still fear, uncertainty, and dread inside him, but it wasn't anything like it had been before.

Because he realized, without knowing why, that this man was to be trusted. Sirius was going to be okay.

Author's Note: Does anyone want to guess what it is that Harry wrote to Sirius? You'll find out in the next chapter, but I'd be interested to know if anyone can figure it out.