I only have one more pre-written chapter after this one.

Sirius Black looks slightly better-off than he had in the paper. He's washed his hair and had a few decent meals, but Logan can smell the prison rot clinging to him under his fancy robes. Ten years has left a haunted look in his eyes. His voice is rougher than Logan's, though Logan doubts that's by choice.

Logan bets that Sirius has barely spoken more'n Harry in the last ten years.

If Sirius had been expecting Harry to bombard him with a hug, he's sorely disappointed. He clearly wants to wrap his arms around Harry, but is wisely refrainin'.

Logan ain't lookin' forward to what'll turn out to be an emotional reunion. If it ended up bein' the heartfelt reunion Sirius is expectin', Logan would give them space to avoid the feelings flowin'. But he doesn't trust Sirius alone with Harry, and it ain't going to be a huggy reunion.

It'll be emotional either way, when Sirius realizes Harry ain't interested in having a godfather.

Sirius' next words confirm he's at least got some sense. "I know you probably don't remember me. I haven't seen you since…"

He trails off. Logan ain't sure if it's hard fer him to talk about that night, or if he's confused by how Harry's actin', but he doesn't particularly care.

"You look just like James," Sirius breathes, like he can hardly believe it. "But you have Lily's eyes."

Those eyes ain't lookin' at either of 'em. He keeps shakin' his head, making his hair sway. He claws his knife through the air again. It's pointed at Sirius, but he glances at Logan, as if wondering if he clawed Sirius out of magic prison in the middle of the night.

"Don't think anyone cut him out, bub." Logan drawls around his cigar. "They let him go when we found the rat."

"After letting me rot there for ten years." Sirius says under his breath. He grins, and it's only a little forced. "Missed out on a lot of birthdays and Christmases. I'll have to make up for those."

Harry turns away, glancing toward the camper. Sirius eyes their home. Like Ron, he seems shocked that the inside ain't bigger than it looks outside, though he mutters that it's better than a grim old place. Wizards are strange, Logan thinks. Sirius could have easily called it prison.

Sirius glances at Logan, silently asking why Harry's acting the way he is. Logan ignores him. If Sirius thinks he turned Harry feral, fine. Logan ain't out to impress anyone.

Harry's snowy owl flies out of the camper, clutching the broken broomstick from their recent bar brawl. She passes the pieces to Harry, who immediately thrusts them at Sirius.

"This is a muggle broom," Sirius says slowly, as if he's questioning Harry's sanity. Logan snorts. Most people would think talk of flyin' brooms and magic was nuts. "Your owl's beautiful."

Harry's owl preens at that, like she can actually understand. Logan knows she's just a bird- he can smell that- but she's smarter'n any bird should be.

Harry flaps his hands- not in the way he does when he's excited, but as his way of signing flight. Logan ain't sure when he picked up the difference between happy flaps and flying flaps, but Sirius would be equally baffled by both.

"He wants you to make it fly." Logan mutters, when it's clear Sirius requires a translation. It'd seemed obvious to Logan.

Sirius barks a laugh. "Harry, we can do better than this. Have you heard of the Nimbus Two-Thousand? I hadn't, until a few days ago…" He shakes his head like a dog, as if trying to shed the thoughts of all he'd missed in ten years' imprisonment.

Harry shakes his head back, and Sirius smiles like it's some deep connection. Logan raises an eyebrow. "Ya ain't hard to impress."

"I bought you your first broomstick, you know." Sirius tells Harry fondly, ignoring Logan. "Your mum said you broke a vase Petunia'd sent her. James and I knew you'd be a great Quidditch player someday."

Harry goes still, and his owl plucks at his hair like feathers.

"I know First Years aren't allowed broomsticks, but we could smuggle it in."

Logan grumbles that Harry ain't going around his cigar, while Harry shakes his head faster. Is he goin' to have to tell every witch and wizard they cross? Logan ain't a fan o' repeating himself.

Like everyone else, Sirius is shocked at the news that Harry won't be attendin' Hogwarts.

"Those were the best years of my life!" Sirius insists, which earns him an extremely disbelieving look from Harry. "I made my best friends there. Your dad, and Remus, and… we went on all sorts of adventures."

Harry laughs and glances at Logan, like they're sharin' a secret joke. His smile clearly says they've been on their own adventures.

"What are you doing, if you're not going to Hogwarts?" Sirius folds his arms, hiding his hands in the sleeves of his robes. "Who doesn't want to go to Hogwarts?"

Sirius eyes the truck, now clearly questioning Harry's preference to live there rather than a magical castle school.

"How are you going to learn to defend yourself?" Sirius asks, already sounding like a practical guardian.

Logan wordlessly extends his claws, and Harry flicks out his knives, though he's turned towards Logan's motorcycle.

"She's a beauty," Sirius says. "So, you're riding around? You're at least seeing the world, right? France, Spain?"

Logan doesn't mention possibly going to Japan, because it ain't any of Sirius's business.

"That's what I'd do, if I wasn't going to Hogwarts." Sirius's suggestion is a bit too pointed for Logan's liking. "I had my own motorbike, before. She could even fly."

He smiles at Harry, who snickers as if Sirius is slow on the uptake, and flaps proudly at their bike.

Harry glances back at Sirius, like he's wonderin' if Sirius is hiding his own motorcycle in his robes.

"I lent mine to Hagrid that night." Sirius says. "I should get her back. We could race."

Harry makes his engine sounds, but there's a chuckle mixed in with his revving. Sirius smiles, but Logan frowns. Harry is enough company for him. He doesn't want Sirius hanging around, constantly competing for Harry's attention. Not that Logan's going to fight him for it, as much as he likes fightin'.

"I'll come find you." Sirius promises. Logan really hopes he doesn't.

They were ready to sleep here for the night, but Logan shrinks their truck back down and roars off with Harry before Sirius has even disappeared.


Logan figured that Sirius wouldn't break his promise, as much as Logan wanted him to. The next day, another motorcycle joins them in the air. Sirius waves at Harry from his own bike, face falling slightly when Harry doesn't return the greeting.

It ain't easy to shake Sirius off their tail in the air. Logan lands and speeds down the road, hoping to lose him in the next town, but Sirius follows.

Scowling, Logan screeches to a stop, and Harry grunts in annoyance.

"Look, we ain't lookin' for a travel partner." Logan says.

"I have something for you, Harry." Sirius pulls a conspicuous long, wrapped package out of the sidecar of his own bike, passing it over. "It's a bit late, but Happy Birthday."

The broomstick Harry unwraps is the same model as the one prominently displayed in the window at Diagon Alley. It looks better than the Weasleys' brooms, and the broken muggle one Harry's refused to throw out. Logan bets Harry will continue to hang onto the pieces, even with this new fancy broom.

"Bribin' him to like you?" Logan raises an unimpressed brow. Harry's already climbed on and is effortlessly swoopin' through the sky. Logan can tell this broom flies better'n the one he'd borrowed at the Burrow.

Sirius starts his own motorcycle, roaring the engine as he joins Harry in the air, racing back and forth.

Logan growls and mounts his own bike. "Let's get goin'," he tells Harry, not joinin' their game.

Harry speeds alongside Logan's bike, but grabs their shrunken truck from the saddlebag. It slips from his grip, and Sirius pulls out a wand, but Harry's already diving effortlessly towards the ground, catching the truck before it crashes into the street below.

Sirius claps, saying he knew Harry would be great at Quidditch. Harry jangles his dog tag necklace as he presses the button to make the truck grow back to its original size.

Sirius follows him down, and Harry's owl dives after them. She swoops into the window and returns with the collar Harry had found along with his tags, and one of Harry's toys.

Sirius sputters when Harry shoves the toy into his mouth, and Harry looks delighted when he spits it back out. Harry cheerfully hands Sirius the collar.

"You want me to be Snuffles again?" Sirius asks. "You know, your dad called me Padfoot. I called him Prongs. We had another friend, Moony, and he-"

Harry howls like a wolf, and Sirius huffs "He didn't like his furry little problem."

Harry stands on his tiptoes, moving closer to Sirius and reaching out. Sirius mistakes it for a hug, and seems relieved to finally embrace his godson, but Harry's only trying to slip the collar over his head.

"How am I going to fly my bike as Snuffles?" Sirius asks, only half-teasing. Harry laughs and mounts Sirius's motorcycle.

"You have your broom," Sirius tells him. "You're too young to be driving my motorbike. I'll teach you when you're older."

Harry scowls and revs the engine, but eventually mounts his new fancy Nimbus broom instead. He whoops as he kicks off, flyin' a lap around Logan.

Harry's growing up, no longer content to merely ride with Logan. Logan realizes that Harry wants freedom, wants to drive or fly himself. He might not be ready for Hogwarts, but he ain't the kid Logan rescued years ago.

Now, Logan really ain't sure why Harry's so opposed to gettin' a bigger camper. Surely he wants privacy now that he's older? He's gettin' close to being a damn teenager.

Sirius flies alongside them, but when they finally land for the night, he turns back into the black, bearlike dog. Harry runs his hands through his black fur, and Sirius- or Snuffles, or whatever he calls himself- lavishes the attention, rolling on his back for belly rubs.

"Ya ain't sleepin' in our truck." Logan mutters to the dog, whose tail thumps the ground as he pants happily.

Somehow, despite Logan's protests, Sirius seems to be stayin'.