Disclaimer: Nope.

Author's Note: Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! I'm really glad you liked Professor Giddens. Yes, she truly is an asset to Hogwarts and will help prepare the students for what is to come.

And yes, don't worry. All the students who have a problem with Harry ... well, you'll see. There certainly will come a time when they'll regret it.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

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He didn't show it, but Alastor Moody was rather shaken after his first Occlumency lesson with Harry. What he'd seen in the boy's mind ... it was honestly a wonder Harry hadn't fallen off the deep end already.

He'd been prepared to see all the memories of his Hogwarts years, all the encounters with Voldemort and what the Dementors did to him. Still, when he actually saw flashes of all of them in Harry's mind, he was astounded by the bravery the boy showed, even at eleven years old. He thought it his responsibility to save everyone, and the emotions he felt in those memories showed him that more than ever.

But it was the other things he saw that shook him to his core, small flashes of memories and thoughts that made his heart actually hurt. And honestly, there were times when Alastor Moody hadn't thought that was possible anymore. He'd seen so many batles and so much war that he thought that all the emotion had been bled out of him. So much loss. Moody had been alive for a very long time, and he knew that he was a man who was damaged by all he had seen.

The boy had gone to his room, exhausted and drained from the lesson. Moody had worked him hard, and Harry had been up to the challenge. But it was plain to see that the lesson had worn him down. He hadn't done very well with it, but who would during their first lesson? Even the most skilled Occlumens could have trouble at first - and Harry was only fifteen.

Even though Moody had known about it, the horror of actually feeling Voldemort's emotions through Harry had almost taken his breath. He knew how dark wizards thought and acted - and he would never forget the pure madness in the eyes of Barty Crouch, Jr. as he stood over his bound, dehydrated form, taunting him and casting painful curses on him. But to actually feel those emotions ... there wasn't much that made Alastor Moody feel physically ill anymore, but this was an exception. How in Merlin's name did Harry still have sanity behind those emerald eyes?

But, above all, Moody had been completely taken off guard by the people that Harry had been forced to call "family" for all these years. The things those brutes had said to him ... it was unfathomable. And Albus had thought that was the best place for him? Hadn't he done his research? Didn't he know what those people were like?

He and Albus had been friends for decades, and Moody knew that the old man had valued Harry's safety above all. The wards protecting his relatives' home would not let anyone in who bore Harry ill. No Death Eater could breach the wards - even Voldemort wouldn't be able to do it. Moody knew just how skilled Albus Dumbledore was at magic and warding. If anyone could do it, he could.

But what did the wards matter if they didn't keep him safe from his own family? There was no doubt that Moody wanted Harry safe from Voldemort and his band of sycophants. But the abuse - yes, abuse - that Harry had had to deal with from his family was unbearable. That small, cramped cupboard with spiders infesting it - for a split second, Moody had thought he was back in that blasted magical trunk, but he realized that even that had contained more room than that tiny cupboard.

Freak. Whelp. Selfish brat. Boy. Ungrateful. You should have died. Worthless. You're nothing. Chores are all you're good for. No one will ever love you. No one will ever want you.

The taunts of those monsters still rang in Moody's ears. What have you done, Albus? he thought desperately, thinking of the man who was still recovering from the assault on his mind. He couldn't help the resentment he still felt over the fact that Albus hadn't been able to tell him apart from Crouch for almost an entire year. And now, there was this added to it. You're lucky, old man, that Harry didn't grow up to be exactly like Tom Riddle, he thought, his blood boiling. He felt some guilt over being angry with a man who had just been through something horrific, but the anger stayed nevertheless.

At the beginning of the lesson, he had given Harry the opportunity to put anything he didn't want Moody to see in Sirius's Pensieve. Sirius had been more than okay with Harry borrowing it for the lesson. Moody wanted to prove to Harry that he could be trusted, and therefore, he thought it was best.

"Anything extremely personal can go in there," Moody had said. "And it doesn't have to be bad, either. Even your most positive memories can be things you don't want others to see."

He had then demonstrated how to do it, and Harry had taken him up on it. He had only done it with a couple of memories, though, before letting the lesson proceed. Moody could tell that there were many more memories Harry didn't want him to see, but the boy knew the lesson had to begin and that he'd be at the Pensieve all day if he was going to get rid of all the memories he didn't want Moody to know about.

Harry had remained stoic through the lesson as some of his very worst memories were broadcast. It would only be for several seconds, but it was enough for Moody to piece together Harry's horrific home life. At the end of the lesson, his voice had been so full of pain. "Please, Professor Moody. Don't tell Sirius everything you saw. I swear, I'll open up to him at some point, but ..."

Moody understood. Harry's trust in Sirius had grown by leaps and bounds, but there were just some things he couldn't bear for his godfather to know. Moody could tell from the residual feeling of dark magic being used around this house that Sirius had skeletons in his closet, too, things that Harry didn't know. There were ghosts and demons around this house that were not visible to the naked eye - but they were visible in the heart, where it mattered most. The fact that Sirius had looked past all of that and taken Harry to this house to hide was a testament to the man's love for his godson.

Moody and Harry had compromised - he had agreed to not tell Sirius any of the specifics of what he saw, but he would at least tell him that Harry had had a difficult lesson and that he'd seen things that Harry might eventually need to talk about. He'd seen many an Auror in his time that had bottled things up for too long, and the results had not been to their benefit. And with what the boy would have to face in the future ... Moody once again felt that surge of protectiveness flow through him.

And once Albus Dumbledore had recovered ... Moody knew one thing for sure. He would do anything to stop the old man interfering in Harry's life, even if he thought it was the best for him. The Order could make bloody sure that the boy was protected by incredibly strong wards without him having to stay with those ... people.

Moody had found Sirius in the library. There was a pile of books on the desk that he was scowling fiercely at. There was no doubt in Moody's mind that the books contained horrifically dark magic, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to get rid of them. "Bloody bastards," he heard Sirius mutter under his breath as his eyes read the title of another tome. That one went on the desk, too, his expression darkening further.

"Sirius." Moody laid a hand on the man's shoulder.

Sirius looked up, startled. It was obvious that he'd been so focused on going through the books in here that he hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to anything else. "Alastor," he gasped. "Er ... sorry."

"Constant vigilance," Moody growled at him. "That's no good, Sirius. You have to do better than that."

Before, Sirius would have gotten angry with such a reprimand, but not this time. "Yeah, I know." He sighed deeply, and Moody realized that Sirius took his responsibility over Harry so seriously now. "That's happened in front of Harry too," he whispered ashamedly. "I was lost in thought and ... Harry had to get my attention when I know I should have been more focused. I ... I'll try harder."

"It's all right, Sirius. I know you will," Moody said, taken aback by just how much Sirius had changed. "Do better next time - that's all I ask."

"I will," Sirius promised, his eyes fierce. "Is Harry's lesson over? Is everything all right?"

"Yes, the lesson's over. Harry's up in his room. He's absolutely exhausted," Moody said truthfully.

Sirius's eyes softened, the concern in them reaching straight into Moody's soul. "How ... how did it go?" he asked quietly.

Sighing heavily, Moody explained what had happened in the lesson. "Sirius, I saw things that ... he made me promise not to tell you. But you have to promise me something," he said quietly.

Sirius's eyes were blazing. "Anything," he said, every single one of his senses on alert.

"You are to make sure that he never, ever sets foot in his relatives' home ever again," Moody growled, his magical eye spinning around in its socket and staring directly at Sirius. "No matter what Dumbledore might say. No matter what arguments he might make. Yes, that boy needs to be protected from Voldemort at all costs. But damn it, Sirius, those bloody wards aren't worth it."

Sirius stared at Moody, horrified. He knew the ex-Auror was a hardened man who normally believed that the strongest protection was worth anything. "It's that bad?" he whispered hoarsely. "Deep down, I always knew it, but ..."

"Yes, it's that bad," Moody said gruffly. "I promised not to betray Harry's confidence, but yes, Sirius. It's the worst. Albus is damn lucky. Damned bloody lucky."

"Lucky about what?" Sirius asked, his eyes full of a mixture of sadness and fury.

"Bloody lucky that Potter didn't turn out like Riddle," Moody barked. "Blood wards. What a bunch of bollocks. We could have kept him safe. All of us."

He saw at once that Sirius's thoughts were taking a downward spiral into guilt again. "No, Sirius. Don't do this. Harry needs you now." Moody put a gnarled hand on Sirius's shoulder. "You know you'll do worse by him if you allow yourself to go there again. Yes, you were wrong to go for revenge on Pettigrew, although I can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing if I were in your position." He looked straight into Sirius's eyes. "But you're here for him now. You're here for him, and you saved him."

Sirius took several deep breaths and stared back at Moody. "You're right, Alastor," he whispered. "I need to be there for him now. These lessons ... these memories ... is this going to set him back at all? I've been trying so hard to show him how much he's loved. You know, he never used to think he could ask for things from me. I've never seen a boy be so patient. I could often tell from his facial expression that he wanted or needed something, but he'd never ask for it unless I prompted him. It took a while for him to realize that he could ask for something without me having to say anything. Even to this day, though, he's still hesitant to do it."

This all made perfect sense to Moody. "No, I don't think this will set him back," he said honestly. Sirius's eyes contained so much emotion that Moody thought he'd drown in them if he looked for too long. "Just as long as you spend as much time with him as you can, when he's not having lessons. You will help counter the memories and flashbacks he experiences."

"What ... what else can I do?" Sirius asked desperately. "And what if Albus starts interfering again?"

"Look, Sirius. I've been friends with Albus for decades and if there's one thing I know about him, it's that he thinks he means well. But he, like me, has seen too much. His blind spots are obvious. He can't see what's right in front of him sometimes," Moody explained. "He focuses too much on the bigger picture rather than the little things that matter most."

"I don't care whether he thinks he means well or not," Sirius growled, his eyes flashing. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do."

"Find the Potters' wills." Moody said the words with certainty. "All of us who fought for the Order last time ... we all made them."

xxx

"Yeah." Sirius nodded, remembering making his own. He was eighteen years old and it was a rather daunting task. Sirius had always considered himself invincible - grappling with his own mortality had been very difficult. Still, dying was worth it if it meant a world without Voldemort. He'd known it the instant he'd realized what his evil, psychotic family was capable of. He remembered James and Lily's faces as they'd made theirs as well, James holding on tightly to Lily's hand as his hazel eyes had been full of love and fear. Sirius had known that his best friend was imagining a world without Lily in it and was simply unable to cope with the possibility. Lily's emerald eyes had been focused on the task at hand, but there was no disguising the fear in them either. No one should have to make a bloody will at eighteen years old.

He conjured up the memory of Peter, who had been shaking as he made his. It couldn't be more obvious that he had been terrified. Had he been thinking of joining the Death Eaters even then? How long had he been mulling over that? There were times when Sirius wanted nothing more than to know exactly when he'd first considered betraying everything that he'd ever stood for.

But above all, it had been Remus's calm, methodical way of writing his will that had broken Sirius. He'd come to terms with his mortality a long, long time ago - being a werewolf had started him down that path very early. He knew that many in the wizarding world despised his kind, and wanted nothing more than for people like him to die. He'd had no hesitation as he wrote his will. For people like him, doing something like that was completely normal. For Sirius, it was physically painful to watch.

Of course, Sirius had never properly read the Potters' wills. They'd updated them when Harry was born, and they'd informed him of some of the things in them. But Sirius honestly wondered whether they mentioned who Harry was to go to if something happened to them. Had Dumbledore ever seen them?

"Do I contact Gringotts, then?" Sirius asked, knowing that if anyone could answer his questions, it would probably be the goblins.

"Yes." Moody nodded. "Sirius, I don't know when Albus will come back into the picture, but you may have a fight on your hands."

Sirius knew his expression was fierce as all his senses were heightened. "If he wants a fight, he'll get one," he snarled. "If it's as bad as you say it is ..."

He couldn't bear the haunted expression that came over Moody's face. If Alastor Moody, one of the most renowned Aurors who was known for being brutal and vicious to any dark wizard who crossed his path, was looking haunted, then things were very bad indeed.

Sirius felt hot rage consume him as he thought of Lily's long-necked, sneering sister and her monstrous brute of a husband. Lily had been inconsolable when Mr. and Mrs. Evans had been violently killed by Voldemort, and Petunia had blamed Lily for all of it. She'd lost her parents and her sister at the same time. And their final confrontation had happened at their parents' funeral, when Petunia had told Lily in no uncertain terms to never darken her doorstep again. James had stared at Petunia with complete and utter loathing, taking his wife into his arms. Lily had dissolved into hysterical sobbing, but Petunia didn't look the least bit moved. The whole thing had been horrible.

"There is one more person you can ask to help you, if you need to go down the route of settling it with the courts," Moody said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"The courts?" Sirius was stricken. "But Harry would never want that! It's bad enough that his family was mentioned at my trial. The newspaper articles that followed that spectacle were disgusting!" He felt his heart racing as he thought of how his kiddo would handle this on top of everything else.

"That's the thing, Sirius. If you go through her, she'll make sure the press never get wind of it," Moody said. "She works in Wizarding Child Services. And if I know anything at all, it's that she'll help Harry."

"Who? Who are you talking about?" Sirius demanded. "Who will help him?"

Moody looked Sirius directly in the eye when he spoke the woman's name. And Sirius's mouth gaped open in shock.

xxx

Harry was lying in bed, having just awoken from a nap. His mind had felt like it was swimming in fuzz when he'd turned in. His head had been hurting something awful, but thankfully, the pain was now gone.

Harry felt rather embarrassed - napping in the afternoon was not something he normally did. But he and Moody had been at it for an hour as he struggled to master the basics of Occlumency. He had failed, and he knew it.

Moody had been hard on him, but he appreciated that. He was learning to fight against Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He didn't want an easy teacher. Voldemort certainly wouldn't go easy on him. He almost laughed at the absurdity of that statement.

There was a gentle knock on his door. "Kiddo?" Sirius's soft voice caused a small smile to come to Harry's face. "May I come in?"

"Yeah." Harry cursed himself for sounding hesitant. He was very happy for Sirius to do so, but the memories from today's Occlumency lesson - they haunted him.

The door opened, and Harry sat up as Sirius came in and sat beside him. "How are you feeling, pup?" he asked gently.

"Tired," Harry said truthfully. "The lesson didn't go well. I'm really terrible at Occlumency - Moody must be disappointed."

"Alastor Moody is NOT disappointed in you, Harry." Sirius spoke fiercely, with such conviction that it made Harry's heart swell with love. "He knows it's your first time. He'd truly be mad if he thought you'd be able to master it, just like that."

"I tried," Harry said as a sudden memory of Aunt Petunia slapping him came into his mind. He was five years old, and he'd been sick for three days with a nasty virus and had therefore not gotten as many of his chores done as she would have liked. When Dudley had been ill like this five days ago, Petunia had fussed and cooed over him and taken him to a doctor, who told her it was a virus and Dudley simply needed fluids and rest - only time would heal him. The doctor was right and Dudley was better, but now Harry had it and it couldn't be more apparent just how much the woman didn't care. There would be no doctor's visit for Harry.

"I know you did." Sirius took Harry's hand. "Look at me," he said quietly. "Remember where you are."

Was it so obvious that Harry was having a flashback? He gazed at Sirius and saw the sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

The sadness in Sirius's eyes grew more pronounced as he pulled the boy into a hug. "Don't, Harry. Don't you ever say you're sorry." He placed a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead. "Are you sure you want to go through with these lessons?" he whispered.

"Yes." Harry answered at once. "Sirius, I need to learn this. If it's the only way to not dream about Voldemort ..."

Sirius sighed. "I just wish there was another way," he said hoarsely. "This connection in your scar needs to be gotten rid of, not just mitigated."

Harry sighed deeply as well. "I want it gone, too," he said, and indeed, he wanted nothing more. "But these lessons ... they're all we've got right now. I'll do whatever it takes." He took a deep breath, mustering up his courage. "What did Professor Moody tell you?"

"I promise, he didn't betray your confidence. He just said he saw some ... horrible memories of your childhood. But he didn't tell me what they were," Sirius said, and Harry knew he was telling the truth.

"I'm sorry," Harry said again, unable to help himself. "You know how much I trust you. It's not that I don't. I just ... I just ..."

"I know, Harry. I know." Sirius pulled Harry closer, stroking his hair. Harry relaxed into Sirius's hold, and there was silence between them for several minutes. All Harry could hear was Sirius's heartbeat, a sound that never failed to comfort him.

"I ... I can try to talk about it," Harry said eventually, even though just the thought of it made him go cold and clammy.

"Harry." Sirius lifted the boy's chin so that he could look into his eyes. "I will be here whenever you feel like you're comfortable talking about it. But right now, I can tell that you're forcing yourself, and I don't want that. Do you want to know something?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"My session with Healer Dixon was very difficult today," Sirius confessed. "We had a long conversation which brought up some very hard memories for me. I know he's hoping that I eventually talk about my own family more, but he's not forcing me to do so. He says that if you're forced, it will only set back the healing process. Do I want to know what happened in your life so that I can help you? I won't lie - yes, I do. But we've come so far in our trust of one another. I would never, ever do anything to jeopardize that trust. Forcing you to relive painful experiences is something I will never, ever do."

It was another of those moments when Harry felt Sirius's love all around him. He could hear it in his voice, feel it in the way Sirius held him. His gray eyes, which Harry had seen show so many different emotions, were so soft and tender in that moment that Harry felt tears press at his own eyes. "I ... I hope Healer Dixon can help you," he whispered. "Like you've already helped me."

He squeezed Sirius's hand tightly. "You have helped me, Sirius. It's moments like now when I think that there'll be a time when I'll be strong enough to talk about all of it. Believe me, I want to. And I know you'd never force me." He took another deep breath. "You've made me realize that I never, ever want to go back there. For the longest time, I was ... resigned to it. But I know now that I don't have to live that life."

"I swear on my life, Harry, that you will NEVER have to go back there," Sirius vowed fiercely. "NEVER."

It was then, in the warmth and comfort of Sirius's arms, that Harry voiced a worry he had been carrying for quite some time, but felt guilt-stricken to be carrying it. He would never, ever forget that Dumbledore had gone through what he had with those so-called Mind Healers because he'd been arrested protecting Harry. There was still a part of him that looked up to the old man, who thought Dumbledore only wanted what was best for Harry.

But he couldn't help himself. Sirius was holding him, and Harry had learned that he could ask or tell his godfather anything. "What if Dumbledore wants me to go back?" he whispered.

Sirius's hold grew tighter at this. "Then we'll fight it." His words were so sure and certain that Harry didn't doubt him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feeling like a tiny child who needed reassurance that his life wasn't about to be turned upside down again.

"Look, Harry. Professor Dumbledore is a man who has seen a lot of war in his life," Sirius said gently. "And he's been the leader. He's had to make decisions that have cost people their lives. He's had to put people at risk, and he's had to ask people to make sacrifices. When your parents and I fought in the Order last time, a lot was asked of us. And we did it willingly, no matter what it might cost us, because we knew the cause was worth it. Every time we went into battle, we knew we might not come out again. We knew and accepted that, because we believed in Dumbledore. We believed in what we were fighting for, and we knew that Voldemort was seeking to destroy everything we held dear.

"But Harry, you are a child. When I think about everything you told me when we first came to this house, I recognized it all as Dumbledore's doing. Now, I'm not saying he didn't ponder it deeply before he did it. He's what you'd call a war general. He thinks about the risks, the benefits, the cost.

"But I think he was extremely shortsighted in some areas. He had a huge hand in your life before you even knew who he was. He put very powerful blood wards on the Dursleys' home, thinking they would keep you safe from Voldemort and the Death Eaters. And yes, the wards did what they were designed to do. They kept those monsters out. But Harry ... they didn't save you from the monsters in that very house."

Harry felt overwhelmed with many emotions as Sirius laid everything out clearly. "So you're not saying Dumbledore's a bad person, right?" he asked quietly.

"No. Dumbledore's not a bad person. But he's damaged. He can only see things a certain way now, and doesn't think of the effect his decisions are having on real human beings," Sirius said softly. "You should have grown up with love, Harry. I will always feel guilty that I wasn't there for you for so many years. I'm learning to live with it, and to move past it in order to be the guardian you need now. But Harry ... you should never have grown up with those people. If I'd been thinking straight on Halloween 1981, I'd have fought tooth and nail against Dumbledore right then and there."

"I know you would have, Sirius," Harry replied, not doubting his godfather for an instant. "And ... I've never thought of Dumbledore like that before. He's always seemed to know everything, you know?"

"I used to think so, too," Sirius admitted. "I remember when I first saw him smile at me - it was right after I was Sorted into Gryffindor. I knew my parents would be furious, but I felt this vindictive pleasure at rebelling. And then, Dumbledore was smiling at me. All seemed right with the world then."

Harry completely understood what Sirius meant. "So what do we do if Dumbledore says I need to go back to the Dursleys?" he asked. "He might say something like, I need to be protected even more now because Voldemort's back."

"There are people in the Order who are absolute experts at warding," Sirius said. "This house, for one, is unplottable, so it's very difficult to find. And if you and I ever want to move out of here and find somewhere else ... I have no doubt that Sturgis, Kingsley, and Moody can help us. Those three can work miracles with warding."

"Doesn't Dumbledore know that?" Harry asked curiously. "Doesn't he trust them?"

"Dumbledore, I'm afraid, puts too much faith in blood family," Sirius said, and Harry could detect a little bitterness in his voice. He squeezed the man's hand again, knowing he was thinking of his own family. It still amazed Harry that he'd been able to stay in this house for months and learned to adapt to it. "He thinks those are the strongest wards."

"So what else do we do?" Harry asked, and he couldn't hide the frightened note that crept into his voice. "What if Dumbledore still says I need to go back?"

"Then, we fight it in court. Moody knows someone who works in Wizarding Child Services. She'll be able to help us." For some reason, Sirius's voice had grown very soft, and he took Harry's hand in a way that caused his stomach to flutter. "And she will make sure the press doesn't get wind of it. It's the very last thing she'd want to happen to you."

"Who?" Harry asked, sensing that Sirius was very anxious about revealing to Harry who this person was. And the press ... that caused a thrill of fear to thrum through him. They'd have a field day with this - they already had, after the Dursleys had been brought up at Sirius's trial. Who would be willing to make sure that none of this leaked out, if it came to a fight with the courts?

Harry never could have been prepared for the name Sirius spoke. It made all the sense in the world, because she was such a kind, gentle, and compassionate woman. But it still shocked him to his core to hear Sirius say it.

"Eileen Diggory."