Thank you to everyone who reviewed!

AND WE'RE BACK!

Miss me?

There were a lot of mixed reviews regarding the Part One finale, some good, some bad, but we're back now, and Part Two is calling your names.

So, this chapter marks the beginning of Part Two, and hopefully most of ya'll what read Part One are back for more. I've got a couple of notes to make about this chapter, so sit tight and we'll get down to business.

First off, this is one of those chapters were I've inserted some more cliché elements, but bear with them, and I'll give you an explanation to (hopefully) ease any worries you have at the end.

Also, regarding how he addresses Mr. Weasley, don't kill me for it, just remember the Christmas chapter from Part One. I've got a bit to say about that at the end also.

One last thing, not concerning the story itself. As you may have noticed, this update is several days earlier than what I had planned for. Simply put, I'm going to be spending a mini-vacation in a wonderful place with trees and no internet, so if I waited to update until after I came back, it would be later than what I promised. I'd rather offer it up early, and go back to weekly updates instead of four day one for a bit than break my promise, so there you have it.

Now, that's all, so on to the story.

Enjoy.

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Dear Mr. Potter,

We are happy to inform you, that the kidnapping you have requested is well within our available services, and we shall conduct this event sometime within the next few days, likely outside of daylight hours. We regret to inform you, however, that our establishment is only able to hold prisoners for a period of no more than one weeks time, after which we shall have to cut the aforementioned kidnapping short. Payment for this service is not currently required, being that you are an investor in our fine establishment. As such, you may consider this task complimentary. We look forward to future business with you.

Sincerely,

Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley

Weasley Wizard Wheezes,

93 Diagon Alley, London, England

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Harry sent a small, amused smile down at the parchment in his hands. It felt strange on his face, and it took him a moment to realize it was because he hadn't smiled in a while. The looks his relatives sent him when he looked up assured him of this. He was in the kitchen at the moment, having joined the Dursley's for breakfast, something he usually passed on even though Dudley would always come up to knock on his door and let him know the food was ready. He joined them for meals only occasionally, though they always seemed pleased when he did. At the moment, they were all looking at him with smiles of their own, and looks of relief. Was his depression really so obvious? He thought he had hidden his mourning better than that, but apparently not.

"A letter from one of your friends?" Petunia was standing by the table, having just placed a new plate of pancakes on the it, and she smiled at him while wringing her hands together.

"Yea. From the twins. They'll be picking me up in a couple days, just for a week or so, if that's alright?" The question of permission was added to the end as an afterthought borne from politeness. Her smile turned more genuine, and she nodded enthusiastically.

"Of course! As long as you come home at a reasonable hour, and you promise not to get into any trouble while you're gone." He nodded obediently.

"I will. Um..."

"Yes boy, er, H- Harry?" Uncle Vernon, despite no longer belittling or yelling at him, had grown so used to calling him boy that he still occasionally struggled with it.

"I... If anyone asks, I'd like you not to tell them that I went anywhere this summer." It was about a month before school was to begin, and the Order wouldn't be picking him up until about a week before. He didn't really think they would be talking much with his relatives, but if they did, he didn't want it getting back to the headmaster that he'd gone anywhere at all. Vernon nodded, a slightly confused expression on his face, and while Petunia pursed her lips and eyed him suspiciously, she nodded as well.

Dudley said nothing, and rather seemed more focussed on his food, but Harry didn't expect any trouble from him.

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It was a tapping on his window the day after the next that alerted him to the twins having arrived. He had packed a backpack full of things for the week, and he threw on his cloak and pulled up the hood before running to the window. He had already let Hedwig out the previous day, and informed his Aunt that they might be picking him up at night. She hadn't been pleased with the news, but had let it slide with the promise that they wouldn't wake anyone up. The twins were outside the window, each on brooms, and they grinned widely at him without speaking, and handed him another.

He recognized the model as belonging to a Cleansweap, which, while not a very fast broom, was better for travel than something like a Firebolt; which was technically a racing broom despite its' usage in Quidditch. He swung the backpack over a shoulder before climbing out the window and mounting the thing, and soon he was following the other two through the air; the English countryside passing them by below. They flew in companionable silence, and Harry relished in the feeling of the wind in his face. It wasn't as fast as he liked, and nor was it the water, but he felt better up in the sky than he had in weeks.

The summer had been hard on him thus far, left alone to wallow in his grief as he had been. He was glad for his conversation with Frode at the end of the previous year. If not for the strange portrait, he was likely to be wallowing in guilt as well. As it was, he only mourned. He mourned the loss of Sirius, he mourned the thought that he was truly an orphan, and he mourned possibilities; the possibilities of what could have been, had Sirius lived. He had told no one but Snape, and recently, the twins, of the truth regarding his parentage, and he had no intention to share the secret with anyone else, save perhaps the goblins.

His conversation with the centaur before he had tried to share the truth with the man himself weighed heavily on his mind these days. Firenze had told him that he and his family would be happy in time, and centaurs were rarely wrong in matters concerning the future. It was only very recently that he had come to understand what the magical being had meant, and even then it was only looking back on his past conversations with Frode which had illuminated him.

Not all family was such by blood, and not all those of shared blood were worthy of being family. It was likely that the centaur had been speaking on his chosen family rather than his biological one, when he had told him of future happiness, and he prayed the creature was right. He was so tired of being sad, or angry. Happiness would be more than welcomed.

In no time at all the twins began to move downward, and he followed them; the three of them descending into a small park with a number of trees, not more than a couple blocks away from the Leaky Cauldron. He pulled a black band from his pack, one of four, that he had constructed from the stone he had received the previous year from Sirius. He traded it out with the one already on his wrist, and as he did, his face was changed. Where the one he had been wearing previously made him look entirely human, this one did the same, while also altering his actual appearance.

Where before there had been a scarred and pale short-black-haired and green-eyed teen, now there was a tan long-brown-haired and black-eyed young man. His scars were fully hidden, and while not much of his other features were altered, the hair hung messily about his face and hid most of it from view. The phrase 'less is more' worked well in this case, and despite its' relative simplicity, the disguise worked incredibly well. He had scarcely managed to put the other band back within his pack when the twins had their arms linked with his, one of them on each side of him. He chuckled, and they walked through the park in a decent mood.

He sighed to himself as they left the cover of the trees (brooms now safely shrunken and tucked away in one of the twins' pockets) and headed down the street. He felt much more comfortable with the twins than he had while cooped up at Privet Drive; changed relatives or no. They didn't run into or see anyone they knew along the way to the Inn, though there were people about. Harry envied them their simple lives without magic or fear. They had no idea of the threat looming on the horizon, even in spite of the 'terrorist attacks'. They were all of the mind that it wouldn't happen to them.

Harry felt the magic of the place wash over him when they finally entered the pub, and nearly stumbled; the twins holding him up. He hadn't realised how sensitive he had become to magic until spending so long in a place without any. It was like coming to the Burrow, and having mum give him a hug. He swallowed and took a deep breath, smiling a true smile for the first time in well over a month.

Fred and George led him through the building, and past the few customers that occupied it, into the back where the brick wall way waiting. George was the one to pull his wand out and tap the stones, and Harry watched them in an awe not unlike he had when he was twelve; though this time it stemmed from knowing enough about stonelaying to realize just how incredible the process was, rather than not being able to believe his eyes. He eyed the archway as they passed through it, his fingers itching to run themselves along the bricks and hunt for the near-invisible runes which lined them. Fred chuckled at him, knowing him well enough to likely guess the chain of his thoughts, but neither he nor his brother stopped.

Harry pouted a bit at that, at least until he caught sight of where they were going. It was a new shop, and it was the bright colors of it that caught his eyes; vibrant as they were even in the night. The front was painted a shocking orange, the door in the front a fresh-blood red that should have conflicted, but didn't. The lining of the store was all an electric blue, a color that was continued on the inside trimmings. The walls inside were each a different color. The one of the door from which they entered was the same shade of orange as the outside, while the wall to the left was a lime green, and the one to the right was an eye-catching violet. The wall directly opposite them was a canary yellow. The floor, at least, and the counters and shelves were all unpainted wood. There were so many shelves, it seemed as though the twins had made it their goal to see how many they could fit within the shop and still have people capable of maneuvering about.

The shelves were filled with all sorts of things. There were all manner of sweets and trick foods, vials of various prank potions, gadgets of all sorts; some of which Harry recognized, but many of which he did not. There was even a box of what looked like colorful wands, and a bin filled with twitching balls of puff that Harry eyed warily. Each item had price tags either on it, its' container, or the shelf upon which it was placed, and despite the apparent randomness of products, there looked to be some pattern and organization to their arrangement.

There was a single, unpainted door at the back of the shop behind the counter, and Fred was the one to step forth and unlock it. This seemed to require the use of his wand, and quite a bit of muttering. Harry pitied any poor fool stupid enough to try and break in. Once inside, it appeared to be a storeroom, as there were more shelves, alongside boxes and barrels. Most of the products back here were packed away, however. There was a set of stairs at the very back that led upwards, a set directly next to it that led down. The downwards steps led to a door covered in warning and keep-out signs. Harry decided he had no intention whatsoever of going down there. They went up, the door at the top needing George to open this time, though in a similar manner, if with more muttering.

Where the shop had been an explosion of color, the flat above was constructed of various shades of brown, and reminded Harry of the secret tower more than anything else; with the various furniture being mismatched and occasionally patterned. The living area spilled over into the dining 'room' and then the kitchen to his left, while there were three closed doors on the separating wall to his right. The twins pushed him unceremoniously into a dark armchair that was far more comfortable than a chair had any right being, and which Harry sunk into a bit. They flopped in exactly the same way onto a reddish brown couch directly across from him, and gave simultaneous sighs. He snorted amusedly at the act, and they offered bright smiles.

"So then, how-"

"Have you been?" His smile faded. He had tried to come across as happy and well in his letters without lying outright, but honesty would suit him best in a face-to-face situation.

"I'm alright. It's been hard. I- I miss him."

"I'm sure he misses you too,"

"Wherever he is." He hummed and leaned back in his chair, and they drifted back into silence. They each had more serious expressions on their faces than what much of the world was used to seeing; though Fred's was much like concern, whereas George's face tilted somewhere near determined. Harry imagined Sirius and his parents together, smiling and laughing, and his chest clenched painfully. After awhile the redheads both bid him goodnight, and he found himself in the guest bedroom. It was small and comfortable, and he snuggled in for the night.

He laid down with a deep breath, and wished for things to go well.

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Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed.

For those who take, but do not earn

Must pay most dearly in their turn

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

Harry stared at the sign for several moments before entering. He was glamoured with the disguise still, though he knew the goblins could see through it. He wondered at that, having not known that information the previous year. He had been wearing the chain he and Sirius had constructed then. That meant the goblins could see his scales, tail, and other oddities, yet none of them had looked at him any differently than usual, or said a word about it to him.

The bank was still as incredible as it had always been to him, and he eyed the rows of desks, each row higher up than the one before it, and all containing various goblins and occasionally a witch or wizard who were all hard at work. He walked up to one of the desks at the front, and, rather than try and gather the goblin's attention, waited patiently for the creature to notice him. Eventually the old, wrinkled being set down his quill and looked up at him. He was (as far as Harry could tell) the same goblin from his very first trip to the bank, and his face now was decidedly less unpleasant than then, when Hagrid had vied for his attention almost rudely.

"Can I help you?" His voice was crackled and tinged with annoyance.

"Yes sir. I'd like to get a record of my accounts, holdings, and any property."

"Name?"

"Harry Potter." The goblin nodded sharply and turned to the left, yelling out something in a rough, splintery language that Harry believed was called gobbledygook, though he wasn't sure. Another goblin came over, much younger than the first, and a few inches taller. Where the old goblin's skin was not too different a shade than a human's, this one was more greenish-grey.

"If you'll follow me please." He nodded, and obeyed, walking after the goblin, whose short legs were moving rather quickly though Harry didn't need to rush to keep up with him. He followed him into a small, round room with ornate hangings and gold designs on the walls, though it contained no more than a round table with six or seven chairs situated around it. "Wait here please." The goblin grunted as he moved to leave, and Harry settled himself patiently into one of the seats.

His reason for being here was simple enough. He had at least a vague idea of what he wanted to do, and where he wanted his life to go from here, but to make any concrete plans, he needed to first know what sorts of assets he had available to him. If he didn't have much, he would be alright. He was used to having to take what he could get, and he could do the same here if it was necessary. It would be nice to have a lot more to work with, but he would get by just fine if he didn't.

The goblin who brought him here returned with two more of his kind, and, while the one left, the other two came to sit up at the table across from Harry with a single chair between them. One of them had a stack of parchment in his hands, which he set on the table, and he shifted through them a moment, while the other one spoke.

"I am Grimrok, and my companion is called Brakton. I am the accountant in charge of the Black accounts and estates, while Brakton oversees the Potter accounts and estates." Harry blinked. He had suspected he might inherit from Sirius, but he had not been sure. Grimrok was a grey goblin, and looked middle-aged, at least he believed he was middle-aged. It was hard to tell with a goblin. The other was as old, or perhaps older, than the goblin at the front desk, and his skin was a darker green than Harry had ever previously witnessed on a goblin.

"I'm Harry Potter." The goblin stared at him long and hard, and Harry swallowed.

"Are you?" It was the way he said it that made Harry's hair stand on end. He sighed, and realized that, regardless of how they had come by the information, the goblins were well aware of the truth.

"Harry Black, then." The goblin nodded once, giving him a pleased grin that showed off many needle-like teeth.

"Very well, Mr. Black. At the moment you only have access to a single account in the Potter estate, as you are not of age, nor have you claimed your lordship. Until such a time as you do, or you reach the age of seventeen, you may not access any accounts other than the trust vault set up for you for the purpose of your education by your mother and Lord Potter. There are a couple of vaults you may not access until claiming your lordship, even after having reached your majority. All the same, we have a summary here of your holdings and property."

"My lordship?" The goblin stared at him, something distasteful in his expression, and his voice was sharper than it had been when he answered.

"As Lord Potter was the last of the Potter family, and you are his heir, the Potter Lordship falls to you. The Black Lordship, likewise, falls to you as well. There are remaining members of the Black family, however, they are all women, and as such not able to claim a Lordship from the Black family because of the stipulations placed on the position by a previous Lord Black. The only other heir would be one Draco Malfoy, however, you are the first in line, and he is only to inherit should you die or be otherwise unable to. You may only claim one Lordship at any time, and doing so fully emancipates you, as such giving you the legal rights that you would receive upon your majority, as well as a single seat in the Wizengamot, if you choose to use it." Harry blinked. He was somewhat aware of what the Wizengamot was, but his knowledge of wizarding laws and politics was intensely limited.

"Are there any responsibilities associated with the position?" He kept his voice as polite as he could, though he could tell the goblin was irritated with him.

"As lord of your house, you would be fully in charge of any property owned by your family, and thus fully expected to maintain upkeep. A Lord is also fully responsible for any other unmarried members of their house, which, you do not have, as any living members of the Black family are currently married, aside from Draco Malfoy, who, while still able to inherit Lordship, is fully considered a member of the Malfoy family, and as such falls under the responsibility of the Lord Malfoy."

"So... Other than looking after property, I wouldn't have to do anything?"

"Unless a full meeting of the Wizengamot is called, upon which your attendance would be mandatory in order to keep your seat, no." Harry nodded, and they moved on. The goblin handed him a single sheet of parchment. "Here is a summary of your holdings and property."

Harry looked through it. There were seven vaults, five belonging to the Blacks, with two from the Potters. One of the Potter vaults was his trust vault, while the other was a much larger account that held mainly money with a small number of artifacts. Three of the Black accounts seemed to contain nothing but artifacts, while the other two were mainly money. One of them was much smaller than the main Potter account, and the other was larger. Two of the Black artifact vaults and the one with more money required him to claim Lordship, while the last two would be his once he turned seventeen. Aside from that was property. From the Potters there was some empty land in Godric's hollow, a small cabin in France, and a larger house with a small amount of surrounding land in Spain. On the Black side he owned Grimmauld place, a townhouse in New York, a house in Norway, an estate in Ireland, and what looked like a small castle in Russia.

The houses in Spain, Norway, and Ireland appeared to be occupied and he received a decent amount of money each month from those residences. Grimmauld place, he knew was still being used by the Order, while the French cabin, New York townhouse, and the Russian castle were all empty. He would leave all the occupied places alone. Whoever had been living in them thus far had likely been doing so for some time, and he wouldn't force them from their homes. He would leave Grimmauld alone as well, since the Order needed it, and it held too many memories besides, but the empty residences gave him some options.

He knew, that if he was ever going to get out from beneath Dumbledore's thumb, that he would eventually have to leave. He would still fight Voldemort, certainly, but he wanted to do so on his own terms, not the headmaster's. The cabin in France was close by, but perhaps too close. It wouldn't be too difficult for Dumbledore or Voldemort or any number of people to find him there. The place in New York was, by contrast, too far away. He didn't need to be all the way across the Atlantic, since he would need to go back and forth, and it might be difficult to do so when so far away. That left the Russian castle. It was close enough to Finland that it wouldn't be too hard to get back and forth from there to England, and it looked to be only a couple miles from the ocean, so he would have water nearby. It was nestled right at the base of a mountain, and he doubted that anyone would be able to find him there.

"As you can see, your wealth, while not comparable to someone like Lord Malfoy, or Lady Zabini, is nothing to be scoffed at." He nodded, and made his decision. He met Grimrok's eyes, and opened his mouth.

"How does one go about claiming a Lordship?" The goblin grinned.

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Harry smiled to himself as he exited the bank an hour or so later. He wasn't a Lord yet, but the process had been set in motion, and so it would only be a matter of time, or so he hoped. He wanted to remain at Hogwarts for at least this next year, so there wasn't much rush to get things done. He had a small amount of gold in his pockets, and while there wasn't much he wanted to get, there were a couple of things he felt he needed. There were a couple of bookstores in Diagon Alley, Flourish and Blotts being only one of them, and after looking into a few of them he managed to find a huge, thick tome on modern European wizarding laws that still weighed nearly five pounds even after having been littered with lightening charms. He also managed to find a relatively smaller book on the history of the Wizengamot. Just the thought of doing research into such dry subjects made him shudder, but it was needed. He would never go into politics, and unless a full Wizengamot meeting was called he had no intention of sitting in that seat, but, if a full meeting WAS called, then he wanted to at least have an idea of what he would be getting himself into by showing up.

He also found a small book on basic wizarding law in Russia, so that he would know what kinds of things he could and couldn't do, and what he would need to keep secret. He loathed such research, but he would deal with it. Aside from that, anything else he might wish to know, he figured he would be able to find in the keeper's library. Thinking of that, he knew he would need to start moving the books out of it, and find a place to hide them until he moved to the castle, or find a way to get them there ahead of him. He found a shop that sold bags and containers, and managed to find a small trunk, only a couple of feet long, a foot or so wide, and another foot or so tall that was much much much larger on the inside than his own school trunk. It was also entirely waterproof. Judging the inside of it, he bought four and had them shrunk to fit in his pocket. After asking, he learned that he could order more by owl if needed, and left.

In the end there wasn't anything else he felt he needed at the moment, so he went off to Florean Fortescue's to get some ice cream to bring home to the twins. Their shop wasn't open for business yet, though it would be by the time the Order picked Harry up to take him to Grimmauld and later get his school supplies. He sighed to himself as he walked down the street towards it, enjoying for the first time how no one stared at him; thinking that he was just another person on the street.

He wished it could be like this all the time.

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The twins were gone when he got back, so he set about putting his purchases away in the guest room, and taking a shower. It had been a couple days since he had done so, and the feeling of the water on his scales eased his stress. He stayed under long after the water had turned cold; Diagon Alley possessing oddly muggle plumbing. When he got out, he caught sight of himself in the mirror, somewhat surprised by how much he had changed in the past year. He rarely sought to look at his own reflection, and any time he had done so in the past few months had been only a glance.

He had grown a bit taller this summer; still short, but much closer to the average height for his age than he had been. His skin, usually tanned after a summer of working in the garden, had grown pale; his grief having kept him indoors this time. It contrasted sharply and oddly with the black scales covering portions of his body. His hair, kept out of his face by the small, pointy horns, revealed his face for all to see, and had grown just past his chin. It was as wild as ever; maybe even more so, and the sight of it reminded him painfully of Sirius. His face itself was much the same as it had always been, if with a wider jaw and a lack of baby fat. There were dark circles beneath his eyes and the lightning bolt scar was joined now by a second scar on his face; from the cutting curse he had received at the department of mysteries.

This scar, not old and pale like the one from Voldemort, was still fresh and red, drawing attention to itself against his light skin. It started softly over his left eyebrow, cutting through the part of his eyebrow closest to his nose as it sliced sharply downwards across his nose to taper off on the right side of his jaw. It was continued again, lighter, on his chest; Slicing in an arc from his right shoulder, across Quidditch-honed muscles, down to just below his left pectoral. The whole thing together, from his face to his chest, looked like a large demented crescent or a backwards 'C'. He looked aged somehow, appearing older than the teenager that he was; his green eyes darker than they had once been.

He could see some of Sirius in him now when he looked. Old pictures of the man and James Potter showed that the two could have passed for brothers, though there were distinct differences between them. Harry knew, looking at himself now, that it was no wonder everyone had been fooled; believing he was James' child. Still, if you knew where to look, it was obvious he shared more in appearance with Sirius than James; gaining from his mother only his eye color, ears, and perhaps the look of his hands, which were long and thin rather than wide and large like Sirius' hands had been.

He closed his eyes tightly, willing the pain away, and shuddered. When he opened them again he eyed his hair. If he let it grow too much longer, people would likely start to notice the similarities between him and his father. He knew it would be better to cut it so that he didn't draw any suspicion unto himself. And yet... He looked carefully at the black locks. No. He wouldn't cut it. Let people think what they will.

He wouldn't mind looking more like his real father anyways.

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"They do what?"

"Curse anyone,"

"If they're stupid enough,"

"Who tries to get into your stuff."

"Curses them how?"

"Oh you know,"

"Just the usual,"

"Shaves their head,"

"Turns them purple,"

"Ties them up,"

"Gags them."

"That sort of thing." Harry stared at the innocent looking padlocks, and turned back to the grinning redheads.

"I'll take ten."

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"What are these?"

"Pygmy Puffs."

"They're miniature Puffskeins."

"Bred them ourselves." A little red one popped his head out and squeaked at Harry.

"That one's a different color than the rest."

"Yea, odd ones pop up occasionally."

"Most of them come out like the others." Fred gestured towards the various pink, purple, and baby blue ones.

"We're trying to breed out the brighter colors,"

"Like that one."

"It's going well enough,"

"Aside from the occasional oddball." The little red puff ran around in a circle inside his cage and jumped a few times after facing Harry again. Harry watched the strange little thing, who was decidedly more energetic than his fellows, on top of his unusual color.

"How much?"

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Harry waved goodbye to the twins as they flew away from Privet Drive, the week having seemed to pass too quickly. The happily named Oddball gave a sad squeak from his place on Harry's shoulder, and he scratched its' tiny chin; the little parts of it not covered with fluffy red fur resembling a hedgehog or similar animal.

"I know, I'll miss them too." He turned towards the front door and knocked as Oddball gave a small sound of what Harry was certain was agreement. "Don't worry too much. We'll see them again soon enough." The creature hopped once excitedly and then scrambled to get its' purchase on his shoulder back. He was chuckling at it when the door opened. Dudley looked at him a moment before spotting his new pet, at which point he stared, then shook his head and stepped aside to let Harry in.

"Welcome back." His cousin slapped him on the back companionably as he entered and smiled at him. Harry smiled back, starting to grow more accustomed to the Dursley's new treatment of him, and being in an excellent mood after a week with the twins; both of which having firmly cemented themselves as Harry's best friends.

"Thanks."

"You have fun?"

"Yea. It was just what I needed." Dudley nodded firmly.

"Good." Harry blinked. Was that an edge of protectiveness to his cousin's voice? "So... What is that thing? It's not dangerous or anything is it?" He pointed at Oddball, his fingers twitching as though he were holding himself back from touching it.

"It's a Pygmy Puff. His name is Oddball. He's harmless." The creature, seemingly aware that Harry was talking about him, made several loud and excited squeals and spun, or rather tried to spin, in a circle; almost falling off of Harry in the process. Both teens chuckled while Harry caught and resettled the thing, and Dudley scratched at his head, first warily, and then with more confidence when Oddball crooned happily.

"Don't let mom see it." Harry nodded, smile fading.

"She'd panic, I know." Dudley chuckled at him and shook his head.

"No, I meant because he's so cute. She'll try to steal him from you." Harry looked at him disbelievingly, and his cousin only grinned. "I was planning on going to the gym in a bit. You wanna come?" Harry started, having not expected the invitation, and, after pushing down his automatic feelings of suspicion, nodded happily.

"Sure. I've never been before. Let me get him settled first." Dudley nodded, and Harry retreat up the stairs to his room to introduce Oddball to Hedwig and hope neither of them killed each other.

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Hedwig, as it turned out, adored the little creature, and had been insistent on him being placed in her cage with her, seeming to decide to treat him like an owlet. Oddball seemed perfectly happy with this, and was curled into a ball at the bottom of her cage asleep while the owl watched him protectively before putting her face up under a wing to nap herself. Harry left the sleeping animals to dress in something he thought appropriate for the gym, and run downstairs to meet his cousin.

After looking him over and giving a nod of approval at the grey sweats and wifebeater, Dudley led the way out; the two yelling out goodbyes and see-you-laters to the other occupants of the house. They jogged the way there, and when they arrived Harry eyed the many pieces of equipment, some of which looked very complicated, nervously.

His apprehension turned out to be justified even though Dudley showed him how to use everything, as proven later that night when he collapsed into bed; utterly exhausted and sore in places he never knew he had. He groaned into his pillow when recalling that Dudley had said they'd be going back the day after tomorrow.

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When members of the Order finally showed up it was to a Harry who had managed to gain a bit more muscle in his arms and legs. Most of his new abilities came from the magic flowing through his limbs rather than any physical improvements, so, while cursing him to death, he was still grudgingly grateful to his cousin for dragging him to the gym over the last couple weeks. He had a paper with various exercises that didn't require equipment somewhere in his trunk that Dudley had told him he should do every day, and he had agreed irritably while his cousin only chuckled at him.

It was Arthur and Moody, who he hadn't actually met yet since the man had been off doing missions all last summer, who came to get him, and his stomach dropped when the man's magical eyes roved over him and then landed on the band on his left wrist. The grizzly old Auror's normal eye met his and didn't move while Arthur came up to him and smiled. The man gathered him up in a hug.

"It's good to see you, son." His eyes snapped away from the Auror and met the Weasley patriarchs blue ones. His mind flashed back to Mrs. Weasley's request at Christmas last year and his mind ran a mile a minute. He wanted to answer the man in kind, but Sirius' face filled his mind with guilt. Then, unbidden, came a conversation he had had with Frode. Siris had been his father by blood, yes, but he didn't have to think of him that way. It was true, anyways, that he tended to think of the man by name more than anything else. He had never been able to think of Sirius and the word father as being connected properly. He didn't think of James Potter that way either. He swallowed, and made his choice, knowing that it would take him some effort.

"You too, dad." The redhead beamed with absolute joy, and the complicated knot of emotion in Harry's stomach loosened considerably. It felt right to call this man that. Blood be damned. He pushed away the guilt as Moody interrupted.

"Enough with the sappiness. We'll be takin' a portkey to Diagon. Ye'll get yer' supplies and then we apparate to Grimmauld. No dilly-dallying. Understood?" He eyed Harry carefully, but had apparently decided to hold his tongue, and Harry wondered if he could manage to avoid being alone with the man before he had to go to Hogwarts.

"Yes sir."

"Good. Get yer' things." He did so, the things he had purchased in Diagon with the twins all locked up in his trunk aside from Oddball, who was cocooned happily into a pocket of the robes he was wearing; fast asleep. He got his things all together, Arthur, Dad, he reminded himself, taking hold of Hedwig's cage. Moody held out an old cane, and they all put a hand firmly around it. The next moment Harry felt the familiar feeling of a hook behind his navel and the world spun uncomfortably around them. He landed on his hands and knees and swallowed down the bile that threatened to come up. Arth- Dad, patted his back and he gasped in a few breaths before he was ready to stand. "You alright there, lad?" He nodded at Moody and looked around.

They were crammed into a small alleyway between two shops, and Moody cast a charm to float his trunk behind them as they shuffled out into the main street. They walked quickly, shuffling from shop to shop as quietly as they could. Their behaviour wasn't noticed much, as everyone else seemed to be doing much the same; no one wanting to remain out and about for long with the knowledge of Voldemort being back among the living and creating terror.

First was the bookstore, then Madame Malkin's, the Apothecary, and last was the pet store at Harry's insistence that he needed to get some treats for Hedwig (and some food for Oddball). Here, Harry entered alone. Arthur had gone with him in every other store while Moody waited with his things, but this time Arthur opted to wait as well; saying that he and animals don't usually mix well. So, with a promise to hurry, Harry hustled in alone.

There was someone already at the counter talking with the owner, so he busied himself with gathering what he needed. He had just managed to get a few bags of feed for Oddball, when he was distracted.

"OOOH! Over here! Over here! Pick me! Pick me!" He blinked, looking around confusedly. "Down here, brother! Down here!" He looked downwards, his eyes catching movement. He stared at the source of the voice; a tiny, bright blue snake whose scales sparkled and shone in a way that reminded him of the blue water flower a little mergirl had given him a year before that had eventually wilted and died. "Oh, most wonderful human, take me home! Please! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!" His gaze turned amused as he watched her bounce around like a spring and very much unlike a snake, before he glanced about the shop, and, after assuring no one was close enough to hear, kneeled down to reply.

"I'm not here to buy anything, little one. I'm sorry."

"NO." He could almost swear it was glaring at him. "I have picked you, and so you must take me! I will bite you if you don't you stupid traitorous egg-eater!" She bared her fangs and rammed her head into the tank with a PLUNK. This served only to stun her and she swayed and fell back with a sound that came to him as a jumbled mess. He watched her incredulously, having never seen a snake that behaved such a manner.

"Alright, alright, I'll buy you. Just don't hurt yourself." She sprang back up at his agreement and began twirling around and letting out noises that he could only call excited squeals. "But you have to promise to stay hidden in my robes and be quiet unless I tell you you can come out. Do you understand?" She nodded exuberantly and began 'dancing' again, this time silently. he shook his head and went up to the counter, the previous customer gone now. "Hi." He set his things on the counter and the girl behind it smiled at him. Her eyes flicked up to his scar only once, though she stared at the larger one longer before shaking herself.

"Hello. Will this be all?"

"Um... Actually, I'd like to buy that snake, also." She looked over at the creature he was pointing at, who was still twisting and writhing about excitedly and raised her eyebrows.

"You sure about that?" He smiled in an embarrassed sort of way and nodded.

"Yes. I'd like anything I need for her too. I can carry her out, but I'd like a small cage if you could shrink it for me." She stared at him a moment longer, seeming to try and decide whether or not he was crazy, and then shrugged.

"You're the boss."

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Harry had been in the store just over ten minutes when he finally came out, a shrunken cage, bag of magically frozen mice, out treats, and Puff-feed in his pockets, and a smug, tiny blue snake wrapped around his wrist. The sleeves of his robes were long enough to cover her, and she was just big enough to wrap around his wrist once, with a tiny bit of extra leeway, and only about as big around as a pencil. The girl at the counter had said that she didn't know what kind of snake it was, as the owner of the shop had apparently just found her in the garden of his home a couple of days ago, and they only knew that she was a magical serpent of some sort.

Moody glared at him when he came out, and he grinned apologetically. The Auror's magical eye landed on the snake once, and he snorted, before turning to lead Harry off in another direction. Dad followed next to him, telling Harry about the wonders of a toaster he had found and been tinkering with with a smile on his face. Harry listened with no small amusement, and chuckled at some of the questions the man asked him.

Eventually they gathered into the little alleyway they had portkeyed to before, and Moody grabbed his shoulder a bit roughly to apparate him away. Harry was pressed sickeningly into a tube and spat back out, stumbling as they arrived just outside Grimmauld place, and kept on his feet only by the Auror's hand still on his shoulder. A pop sounded next to him, and he turned to see Dad pop in right next to them, Hedwig ruffling her feathers indignantly from within her cage; having not found the experience any more enjoyable than Harry had.

Harry sighed, and they all shuffled towards the house that had quickly appeared, and entered quietly without knocking, so as not to awaken Mrs. Black's still present portrait. The curtains didn't open as they shuffled by and towards the kitchen. It was almost empty, the only inhabitants being Mrs. Wea- no, Mum, and Remus. Harry looked at the table grumpily, remembering his last, rather unpleasant, experience in this room.

"Harry." He looked at Remus; dark green meeting warm brown. The man looked older somehow, and so very very sad. He smiled at Harry, but the expression was weak, and there was no real happiness there. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

"Harry! Oh there you are dear!" The vibrant came bustling over and enveloped Harry in a hug that felt wonderful to him; seeming to ease away all his troubles and warm him up from the inside-out. He sighed and clung tightly to her. The hug went on a bit longer than was probably normal, but no one said a word about it, and Harry felt much better by the time she started to pull away.

"I missed you, Mum." Her smile was as deliriously happy as Ar- Dad's had been, and the smile he gave in return wasn't as forced as such expressions had been for him lately.

"How have you been, dear? You look tired." She touched his cheek worriedly, and while he would normally have been uncomfortable, today he let her fuss.

"I have nightmares some nights. It's getting better though. I sleep through the night more often now than I did at the beginning of summer." Thanks in no small part to his continued practice in Occlumency, and exercising with his cousin. Mum bit her lip, but nodded. It was obvious that she was worried, but she looked willing to let it go with the knowledge that it was getting better. It helped that Harry was being honest rather than pretending that nothing was wrong as was his usual practice.

"Are you hungry sweetie? I was just going to make us up some dinner. How does pot pies sound?" He smiled.

"Sounds great Mum." She beamed at him and shuffled him into a seat at the table before bustling about the kitchen busily. He watched her for several seconds, before the sound of someone clearing their throat distracted him. Moody looked at him pointedly.

"I'll take yer' things up to yer' room. It'll be the third door on the right, ye've got it to yerself." Harry nodded, wondering why that room prickled at his memory before pushing it aside, and the old Auror shuffled out; his wooden leg tapping across the floor and Harry's trunk, now with Hedwig in her cage sitting on top of it, floated behind him and out of sight. A hand clasped on his shoulder and he looked up at Arthu- Dad. It's Dad, he told himself firmly.

"It'll just be us all for tonight. The kids will be here tomorrow though, with Kingsley and Tonks." He glanced at Remus when mentioning the clumsy Auror, and the werewolf shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Harry glanced at him in confusion, wondering as to the reason. "Dumbledore might be over to check on everyone the day after that, but I'm not sure. Thought I'd let you know all the same." Harry nodded.

"Thanks Dad." A crash had them both jumping and looking over. Remus had broken his teacup. He leapt to his feet and tried to clean it up, shaking a bit, and Mum hustled over to vanish it away.

"Th- Thank you Molly. If you'll excuse me," He shuffled out of the room, and the three of them watched him go; his actions looking rather a lot like fleeing. Harry's eyes widened when the thought hit him.

Remus knew. Somehow, he knew. Likely Sirius had told him about the conversation that day, and, whereas Sirius had been skeptical, Remus believed it. He swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable and feeling vaguely guilty.

"If it's alright, I think I'd like to go lay down." He looked up at Dad, who agreed with a worried smile and a nod.

"Of course sweetie. You go rest and I'll come get you when dinner's ready." Mum smiled at him and he muttered a thanks before fleeing, not unlike Remus, up to the room he would be staying in. He didn't look around it much, and rather just settled himself in under the covers of the large bed and closed his eyes.

"Are you alright, big-brother?" He opened his eyes with a sigh, and watched the tiny snake slither out from under his sleeve, looking at him with tiny gleaming eyes.

"I am just tired, little one." She slipped up to nudge her little nose against his cheek, and he smiled weakly.

"You should sleep then, and dream of mice." He chuckled.

"Okay." He thought for a moment, as the odd little snake slithered up to tangle herself in his hair. He let her, not up to trying to argue. "Do you have a name?" He asked curiously, berating himself for not having asked sooner.

"Metis." She hissed sleepily, before making a sound which he concluded was the snakey version of a yawn. He yawned with her, finding that he actually was tired, and closed his eyes again. It wasn't long before he slipped away into some much needed rest.

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Okay, so, first things first.

The goblins and the Lordship- Yes, way too overdone, but I need it to get things moving in Part Three the way I want them too. It's not going to play a huge role, and I promise there will be no Political! Harry or Pureblood! Harry. It's just a means to an end, and a catalyst, but I promise it won't be as cliché as it sounds right now, just relax. There are some really well-done fics out there where Harry storms the political world and figuratively kicks ass with every ounce of Slytherin cunning he has, but this isn't one of them. I'm keeping the pits involved with that simple, and you're not going to see Harry involved in the Ministry if I can help it.

Metis the Snake- So, Harry getting a pet snake is also very overdone. I know. I had never planned to do it here, and was just going to give him little Oddball, but then an idea hit me, and I just had to do it. She will be a background character for the most part, until probably the end of Part Three or the beginning of Part Four (not sure yet). She serves a purpose then, and then she probably won't be seen very often afterwards (if at all, since I haven't fully decided on how her arc ends).

Now, I'll see you guys next week for Chapter Two of Part Two.

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate