Thursday, 3rd August

Admittedly, it took him a further three days before he finally managed to build up the courage to meet them, but, as Harry constantly kept telling himself, Lupin and Black couldn't be any worse than St Brutus and they definitely couldn't be any worse than the Dursleys.

And besides, he could always run at the first hint of trouble, if he had to. He was a wizard, after all.

Still leaning on the cautious side, Harry decided to meet them one at a time, just in case, starting with Lupin - he seemed to be the more harmless of the two, and if anything did happen, then Harry felt more at ease maiming a political nobody rather than making an enemy out of the most powerful duke in wizarding Britain.

But.

You know.

Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

Taking a deep breath, he reached up and pushed open the door of the café.

A bell jingled as he stepped inside and a man, presumably Remus Lupin, called out from the back "just a minute!" Harry took the time to glance around the room in an effort to slow his racing heart.

The café was decidedly… quaint, he believed the word was. It was a tiny room with only three tables and seven chairs. The counter, if you could call it that, was positively swamped by old-fashioned glass cake displays, full of tarts and pastries and sweets that Harry had never even heard of before, much less seen. Both sides of the room had display cabinets as well, also filled to the brim.

"Now so, what can I get you?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before forcing himself to turn and face the man directly as he appeared from the door behind the counter, wiping his hands on a floury apron.

"You- You probably don't know me, but-"

"Harry".

Lupin actually stumbled back, away from him, his hands stretched out wide as if trying to steady himself and with a quick flick of his fingers Harry quickly sent a chair over just in time to catch him as his legs buckled.

His eyes widened at the wandless nonverbal magic - but then again, it probably didn't even compare to the shock of seeing Harry himself.

"Is that- Is that really you? Harry- Harry Potter?" Lupin asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and hope.

"I... wasn't expecting you to recognize me" Harry replied slowly, and he huffed a disbelieving laugh. "You're the spitting image of James… but you've got Lily's eyes. Her proficiency at charms too, from what I've just seen".

He shifted in place, somewhat uncomfortable. He knew, objectively, that he should feel something at the mention of his dead parents, but given that he never knew them, he just… couldn't. And besides, if Lupin had been such good friends with them, then why hadn't he-

"I thought you were dead".

Oh. Well. That answered that then.

"Can you… I mean I can't exactly ask you to tell me something that only you would know but-"

"You need proof. Of course".

Harry frowned and wondered how he could convince the man of his identity - all the while a distant part of his more… shall we say, feral hindbrain was absolutely delighted that the man was paranoid enough, and clever enough, to actually ask.

He couldn't swear an Unbreakable Vow with just the two of them but he didn't have his Apparition licence yet either and his original birth certificate was in his vault all the way back in Gringotts and-

Wait.

His vault.

Harry quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out the Potter family Gringotts key. Stepping closer - but still wary enough to keep a reasonable distance between them - he held it up to the light. In a way, he was testing Lupin just as much as the man was testing him, because if he really was as close to James and Lily Potter as the rumours said he was, then he should recognise the key for what it was.

The man stared at it.

Harry shifted from one foot to the other. "... I can go with you to the bank, if you like, or-"

"No". The man's voice was trembling but firm. "No. No, that's, uh… That won't be necessary. The goblins would have only given you that if they had confirmed your identity, which means… which means it's really you".

Lupin looked ashen, pale-faced and unbalanced like a ship suddenly caught up in a wild and desperate storm. Harry repocketed the key as the man slowly stood, watching cautiously as he approached him. He was still staring with those bright amber eyes as if afraid to even glance away in case the boy disappeared.

"Can I… Can I hug you?"

What.

Harry blinked. He wanted to- to- to-

What?!

This wasn't some sort of ploy, was it? A way to lower his defences so that he could attack? He'd shown him the Potter key, which would certainly be tempting enough for even the smartest of thieves, but even with the key he wouldn't be able to get within fifty feet of his vault without the goblins stopping him. But why else would he want to get that close to him?

Lupin had no idea of what else he had in his pockets, and given that they were literally the only two people here, standing in the middle of the man's own café, it made the entire prospect of robbery seem absolutely ludicrous!

... But he'd known his parents, been best friends with them too, by all accounts - so much so that he even recognised their Gringotts key after fourteen years at least - which meant that it was extremely unlikely that he wanted to hurt Harry, but if he didn't want to rob him and he didn't want to hurt him, but he did want to still hug him than that meant-

This was one of those… normal family-type things, wasn't it?

"Harry?"

He'd been silent for too long.

"... Sure" he replied, his voice deceptively light even as he reached down deep within himself and brought all of his magic to this surface, ready to blast this man off the face of the planet if he even dared to think about trying something like-

Oh.

Lupin was… hugging him. Harry was being hugged. He was- It was- This-

This was his first-ever hug.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his own arms to wrap around the man's back like he'd seen couples and best friends do on the street, and, surprisingly, it wasn't as awkward as he'd first thought it would be. In fact, it was actually kind of… nice.

Harry thought that he was going to like hugs.

The warm embrace, the comfort, the sense of- of belonging, of home, made him never want to pull away from this stranger ever again - but thankfully, it seemed like Lupin didn't want to let go of him either. Harry could feel the man's chin resting on top of his head due to their height difference, while his own face was sort of smushed against a floury apron that made him want to sneeze.

Lupin smelled… nice. Like earth and rain and deep forest trees, and just underneath it all was the scent of vanilla and something very similar to chocolate. Merlin, if this was what all hugs felt like, then it was no wonder so many people did them.

"I can't believe it's you" Lupin mumbled into his hair, his voice oddly wet sounding, "I just- I mean, Sirius always said that you were still out there somewhere but- oh Merlin!"

He suddenly jerked back, fast enough that Harry flinched.

"Sirius!" he exclaimed, "I have to- to- I have to tell Sirius! Oh, Merlin, he's going to be so bloody delighted! He always said you were still alive, and he's been searching for you for- Alright. Okay. I need to- I need to call Sirius. Or, better yet, have you call him! Or just come with me to call him. Or- Or we could go straight home from here - there's a fireplace in the back connected to the Floo network so you and I could go and-"

"No!"

Lupin looked startled.

"I just… uh…" Harry winced, unsure how to phrase this delicately. "I just mean that… well, I'd rather… not go with you to- to wherever it is that you live but- but I'd love to meet Lord Black! That's not- That isn't- I'm not protesting that, I just don't want to… to…"

The man's gaze softened.

"You don't know us" he said quietly, with an unbearably sad smile, "So of course you don't want to go to an unknown secondary location with a complete stranger… Smart boy".

Something cracked in his heart at the look in Lupin's eyes but Harry wasn't going to risk his life for anything, and even if all of the signs pointed towards this guy being a good guy who genuinely cared about him…

"How about I Floo call Sirius and ask him to meet us here?" Lupin suggested, his voice still tight but his posture relaxed, "We can have tea and- and cake and I can close up early for the day. That way if at any time you want to… leave… then you can".

It looked like it physically pained him to say those words, and Harry's heart cracked even more at the realisation that this man could have raised him - this kind, soft, warm-hearted man who wore fuzzy cardigans and smelled like chocolate could have been his.

"That-" He had to cough to clear the lump in his throat. "That sounds, uh… good. That- That sounds good".

Lupin nodded, his amber eyes lingering on Harry for a moment longer than necessary. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he pressed them tightly together again. His hands hovered in the air, somewhere between a gesture of reassurance and the edge of a farewell, but he never quite moved.

"I'll just be a minute" he finally said, although he continued to stand there for a few seconds more, his gaze darting over the boy again, as though he was trying to memorise every single feature - as though Harry might disappear again the moment he turned his back.

Harry, feeling awkward under the intense scrutiny, ran a somewhat shaky hand through his hair. "Take your time. I'll be here".

The words seemed to only marginally ease Lupin's anxiety. His hands twitched as if he wanted to reach out for him again, but with visible effort, he forced himself to turn towards the back of the café. His steps were slow, hesitant, and he kept looking over his shoulder every few seconds, as if half-expecting to find him gone, as if all of this were some fragile dream that might shatter.

Harry stood there, watching the man disappear into the small kitchen. The café suddenly felt too quiet, too still. He shifted uneasily. He wasn't used to this - the vulnerability in Lupin's eyes, the rawness of his reaction to seeing him alive. The hug had been unexpected, overwhelming, even, but also... oddly comforting.

In the back, Harry could just make out the sound of a low murmur as Lupin began to speak - presumably using the Floo network to call Sirius. Even though the door to the kitchen was slightly ajar, the words were muffled, a soft rumble of conversation.

He glanced at the wooden tables, the old-fashioned chairs, the pastries on the counter - but he couldn't seem to settle his focus on anything. His eyes kept darting to the door of the kitchen, some strange part of him wondering if maybe Lupin wouldn't come back, or if Black might refuse to believe him, or… or if this whole thing would fall apart like his life always seemed to do.

Frustrated with himself, he turned and forced his legs to take one, two, three steps back to the door where he flipped the "Hi! We're open!" sign around so that "Sorry! We're closed!" faced the street. Then he moved even further into the small café, just in case Lupin returned and saw him at the door and thought that he wanted to leave.

The murmuring had stopped. A loud whoosh of the Floo rang out, and then-

"What's going on, Remus? Is everything alright?"

Black, presumably, with concern evident in his voice.

"Everything's... fine, but there's someone here who wants to talk to us".

Harry braced himself, ready to greet Black formally as soon as he arrived. He was a duke, after all, godfather or not, and until Harry figured out where the man's loyalties lay, he was going to keep his own dukedoms close to his chest.

A second later, he heard two sets of footsteps approach rather than just the one - and wasn't magic incredible?! Stepping through a fireplace like that and ending up somewhere entirely different was just wow - and he looked up just in time to see a tall man step into the café, handsome in that regal, aristocratic way with dark lustrous hair and striking grey eyes.

This was Sirius Black... This was his godfather… This was also the Duke of London.

Harry's gaze briefly flickered to Lupin, but the man didn't seem inclined to introduce them formally, and Black had frozen on the spot as soon as they'd made eye contact, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly.

He bit back a sigh. It was up to him, then. As usual.

Harry bowed his head respectfully, back straight and hands by his sides. "Your Grace".

Black looked like he was going to cry.

He didn't take his eyes off of Harry, but his head turned towards Lupin and he blindly reached out until the other man caught his arm to help steady him, and gave a somewhat watery smile.

"It's him, Padfoot" he said, voice hoarse, "I checked. It's really him".

Black slowly took one step forward, then another, and another, until he finally reached Harry. He came to an abrupt stop mere inches away, both hands rising and the boy barely held back a flinch as the duke gently touched his face.

So much for staying formal.

He ran trembling fingers over his cheeks, his jaw, his lips which- that was just weird, but whatever; his grey eyes searching and studying every single millimetre of his face as if trying to commit it to memory. Finally, unsurprisingly, those same fingers brushed back his hair to reveal the scar on his forehead, and he ever so softly brushed his fingertips over it.

"Harry".

And before he could so much as blink, he was yanked forward into a bruising grip that he was positive was going to leave handprints on his skin.

Black hugged differently than Lupin. It was less… soft and a lot more… squishy. Although that could have something to do with the wetness now staining the collar of his finely tailored robes.

Anyway.

He was certainly trying to squeeze the life out of him, that was for certain, and Harry distantly wondered if this was where the phrase bear hug came from; all-encompassing and far too warm.

His first hug and his second hug, all in one day. He hoped that whatever sick twisted deity that was out there was having a good long laugh at his expense.

Harry awkwardly patted him on the back, not really sure how to respond. It wasn't as if his etiquette books had covered "how to hug a crying duke" after all, which, quite frankly, was a gross oversight on their part.

Glancing over the man's shoulder at Lupin proved no help either since he was just as teary-eyed, his lips trembling as if he couldn't decide whether to cry or smile. Eventually, he simply said "I'll go put a pot of tea on" and then made a tactical retreat back into the kitchen, the absolute traitor.

Ten minutes later, the three of them were sitting at the table in the centre of the room, sipping tea and eating what was truly the best thing Harry had ever tasted before; a type of shortcrust pastry that Lupin - call me Remus, please, I insist - had called treacle tart.

For a few moments, they sat there in silence, the quiet ticking of a wall clock filling the space between them. The two men's eyes never left Harry for a single instant and although he could understand why, it was still a little unnerving.

Eventually, Remus spoke.

"I…" He stopped, broke off another piece of his slice of chocolate cake without eating it, and then tried again. "I don't quite know where to begin. I want to ask you a million questions but… I'm afraid I'll overwhelm you. Scare you off".

Harry couldn't help but smile.

"I don't scare easily" he promised, "But perhaps it'd help if I asked you a question first?"

"Go right ahead; please".

"Why did you think I was dead?"

It was something that had been bothering him ever since Lupin had mentioned it.

Remus flinched at his words, and even Black - Sirius, or Padfoot if you like. Don't ask; it's a long story - lost some of his earlier enthusiasm even though, according to him and Remus both, he'd never once believed that Harry truly was dead.

"When you didn't show up at Hogwarts for your first year, there was an article about it in the paper" Remus started slowly, "An article that had been partly written by a man called Albus Dumbledore, who's the Headmaster of Hogwarts and is… was… friends with your parents".

Harry remembered that particular little article well. How could he not, after all? The 'Boy Who Lived to Disappear' Skeeter had called him.

"I won't get into it all because it's a complicated story but, the most important part is that he questioned your relatives as to where you were. They said that you had powerful accidental magic and they didn't want to get hurt so they… they told him that they got rid of you".

The words echoed, raw and cold, in the silence that followed.

I swore that when we took him in there would be no bloody freakishness in our house! So if I can't beat it out of the boy, then we're just going to have to get rid of him!

Harry took a long, deep inhale and then took a slow, measured sip of tea as he tried desperately to stop his hands from trembling.

"The Dursleys" he began, voice strained, "could do with a drop of Veritaserum… and perhaps Albus Dumbledore could do with the same".

"They lied to him?" Remus asked, just as Sirius said, "He lied to us?"

Harry gave a tight smile. "Correct on both accounts".

"But- But why?!" Sirius exclaimed, looking stricken, "What really happened? Why would he- Why would they-"

"The Dursleys didn't tell him the truth, that much is for certain" he interrupted, setting his cup down with a small clink, "But I highly doubt that whatever answer they did give him would satisfy the wizarding world at large".

"So he came up with that fake story about your accidental magic to buy himself some time to find you" Remus realised, "But when he couldn't…"

"Rumours started to spread" his partner finished, and Harry nodded. "Probably, yeah. At least, that's what I think happened… The accidental magic part was true, but the Dursleys… Well, they just didn't like magic in general, really; uncontrollable or otherwise. I was never worried about hurting them with it, but evidently, they were. They sent me away to a muggle… boarding school, of sorts, up north".

Sirius leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "But what about the letters? Your Hogwarts acceptance letters; they-"

"-arrived. And lots of them, too. It drove Vernon absolutely crazy when they kept showing up… but they never let me read one. Instead, they packed up my things and we drove to St Brutus. It was the end of July then, and the cut-off date for acceptance passed".

"So the owls stopped coming" Remus murmured, his voice trembling with disbelief.

Harry took another sip of tea and tried to decide just how much he was going to tell them.

"I only found out why a few weeks later. I did some accidental magic in front of another student, and we became… friends. He's a half-blood, homeschooled by his mother, who left the wizarding world just before he was born. He's the one who taught me about magic, Hogwarts, everything".

"But surely he also told you about me?" Sirius said, begging more so than asking, "Or about Albus, at the very least? You had to have known that you could contact someone, anyone, and- and be brought here to us!"

Harry blinked. "... Why?"

"Why? Why?! What do you mean why?! I'm your godfather! Sure, I mean, I was, you know, kind of… unavailable, for a while, but Albus would have found someone to look after you! The Weasleys would have loved to take you in! Or the Longbottoms or the Abbotts or the Bones' or- or- or someone! Remus, tell him!"

His so-called explanation appeared to be based more on emotion than logic, Harry thought - which meant that this was another one of those family-type things, wasn't it?

"The way I see it" he quickly said, before the older man could speak, "I was left at the Dursleys for a reason. Dumbledore had the option to give me to those other families when I was still a kid, but he didn't. So, for now, at least, I'm not altogether sure that I can… trust him to have my best interest in mind".

The room fell into a stunned silence. Both men appeared to be lost for words - as if the mere idea of mistrusting the great Albus Dumbledore had never once crossed their minds.

"If I had contacted him - if I had somehow magically found a way - then who's to say that he would've let me stay in the wizarding world? Or even worse, what if he sent me straight back to the Dursleys? What if I lost the only possible connection to magic that I had? No. It just… It wasn't worth the risk" Harry finished, shaking his head "And besides, I didn't even find out that you were my godfather until a few days ago! As far as I knew, my entire family was dead!"

"What?! You didn't know that I was- but- but you- surely Petunia mentioned me! You had to have asked why you were- were with them growing up!"

"The Dursleys weren't exactly fond of me asking questions" he replied wryly, "And as for Petunia… she didn't even tell me I was a wizard, Sirius, let alone anything about you. According to the Dursleys, my parents were good-for-nothing drunks who got themselves killed in a car crash".

"They what?!"

There was a sudden sharp growl.

Sirius's hand clamped down on his partners just as quickly as Harry turned to him and Remus looked away - but not before the boy caught sight of swirling molten gold in his eyes.

Suddenly, the café's odd opening hours, the man's unexplained days off, his earthy scent, the scars across his face, and his surprising strength despite his lean frame all started to make sense.

"Are you a werewolf?"

Remus' head shot up, startled eyes still gleaming gold. Sirius' hand leapt towards his wand, a move that Harry didn't fail to notice. They thought that he was going to react badly - that he was some sort of a blood supremacist bigoted prat.

"Uh, which is completely fine, by the way" he said, a bit miffed, "I was just curious, you don't have to answer".

They glanced at each other for a moment before Sirius huffed. "Well, we might as well, considering that both of our reactions all but confirmed it".

Remus shot him a dirty look before taking a deep breath and turning back to him. "Yes, Harry, I'm… I'm a werewolf".

"Alright. Cool". That at least explained why he hadn't been given to his parents' other best friend as a baby - which was yet another law he'd have to change, wasn't it?

There was a beat of silence.

"... That's it?!" Remus suddenly burst out, "Cool?! I tell you I'm a forbidden illegal highly dangerous Dark magical creature and all you have to say is cool?!"

"Oh no" Harry replied dryly, "It's a big bad wolf. Help me. Anybody. Please. I'm so scared… You're literally wearing a cardigan".

"Talk about a wolf in sheep's clothing".

"Sirius!"

"What? You were thinking it!"

"No, I was not!"

"I was" Harry added, getting a blinding grin and a betrayed look for his troubles, "Would it make you feel any better if I ran from the room screaming?"

"... No" Remus admitted mulishly, stabbing his chocolate cake.

"Well, there you go then. You're a werewolf, big deal. Don't bite me and I won't curse you. We good?"

They both stared at him before Sirius suddenly let out a bark of laughter.

"Merlin! You've got as much Lily in you as you do James!"

"As well as something else entirely that I blame on your godfather's side of the family" Remus added wryly.

"Oi!" he immediately protested even as Harry snorted in amusement, "We're not even related by blood so that theory won't hold up in court!"

Harry hummed. "Hmm, no, but we are related by marriage, so…"

"We're what?!"

Harry wondered if Sirius had genuinely forgotten or if his mother had simply given up on trying to teach him wizarding genealogy at a young age since, according to Rowle, it was a requirement for every noble child as soon as they were able to read.

"Your grandaunt Dorea Black married Charlus Potter who would have been my great great granduncle" he explained, "So while we don't actually have any blood in common, we do share a few ancestors".

Sirius stared at him, mouth agape, before suddenly turning back to Remus with a wide grin. "You hear that, Moony? We're actually related!"

"I mean, to be fair, almost every pure-blood is" Harry added, "And since I'm one of the first half-bloods in the Potter line, those rules still kind of apply to me too".

"Who cares? We're related!"

He couldn't help but smile at his godfather's enthusiasm. It felt… strange to have someone claim him so fiercely - to have someone who wanted to be related to him, to have him for him, rather than treat him as a burden or something to be gotten rid of.

It felt… good. Really good - but also, incredibly, hopelessly fragile.

Harry toyed with the edge of his cup, staring at the remnants of treacle tart on his plate. The comforting warmth of Sirius and Remus's presence was starting to feel familiar, even if it was still disorienting at times.

Remus quietly cleared his throat. "Harry, have you given any thought about… well, staying? In the wizarding world, I mean".

Sirius jumped in immediately. "Of course he's staying, Moony! Where else would he go?"

But his partner shot him a quick, pointed look, and Sirius, recognizing it, obediently fell silent. Harry noticed the silent exchange between them but chose not to comment. Instead, he took a deep breath, considering his words carefully before responding.

The men appeared to genuinely care about him, on some level at least, but they definitely still saw him as a kid, so he knew that they probably wouldn't take the knowledge of him living alone very well - much less the fact that he had, technically, illegally run away.

"I don't have any plans to go back to the muggle world if that's what you're asking".

Sirius grinned, his grey eyes lighting up in delight.

"Brilliant! See, Moony? I told you! He belongs here, not in some boring muggle boarding school! So, you'll be starting your fifth year at Hogwarts this September, right?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, and Remus gave Sirius another quieting look, his expression a mix of caution and curiosity. "Actually… no. I don't think I will".

The man blinked, clearly confused. "No? What do you mean no? Hogwarts is - well, it's Hogwarts! It's where we went to school and it's where your parents went and your name has been down for it since the day you were born and-"

"I'm sure it's a great place" he quickly interrupted, trying to soften the blow, "But… I've been thinking about it, and I just… I don't really want to go to school. Not with everyone else".

"You don't want to-" Sirius spluttered, looking like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"It's not that I don't want to learn" Harry clarified, running a hand through his hair, "I do. But I've been teaching myself for years now, and I think I'd rather just… keep doing that for a while longer. Focus on my O.W.L.s, at least for now".

Remus looked thoughtful, but his godfather was still clearly struggling to wrap his head around the idea.

"But Hogwarts is- Harry, it's the best place to be if you want to learn magic! You'd have friends, kids your age, Quidditch, everything! Hogwarts is more than just- just learning! It's about finding your people!"

"I understand that" he said, half-consolingly, "But the way I see it… I wouldn't exactly fit in. I don't really know how to act around people my age. My cousin Dudley was… a bully, to say the least, and the boys at St Brutus were somehow even worse! I've spent so long being different that the idea of suddenly being surrounded by people my age - kids, really - it'd be… kind of… overwhelming".

Surprisingly, it wasn't Remus who gave him the knowing, sympathetic look - it was Sirius.

"I get it" he said, just as quietly, his blinding grin long since gone, "You've, uh… You've had to grow up pretty quick, huh?"

Harry shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with the sudden attention. "I guess. But anyway, I'm not sure I'd even be allowed to start Hogwarts as a fifth-year student even if I did want to - I've missed the first four years, after all. There's no way I'd be able to just… slot in!"

His godfather snorted, leaning back in his chair with an almost mischievous grin. "What's the point in being the Duke of bloody London, pup, if I can't use it to my advantage every once in a while?"

He raised an eyebrow, a bit bemused by the sudden nickname as well as the man's shift in tone.

"I don't think that's quite how it works, Sirius".

"You'd be surprised!" he said, his grin widening, "I never wanted the blasted title anyway, so it'd do me good to put it to use for once".

Harry stared at him. "You… didn't want… the most powerful dukedom in wizarding Britain?!"

"Nah, not really". He shrugged like that had been a perfectly normal fucking thing to say. "I thought I'd escaped it too until I was declared innocent last summer - then it all came out. My father was duke before me, of course, but both him and my younger brother died about two years before I was arrested which just left me and my lovely mother".

Based on the downward twist of his mouth and the suddenly dark look in his eyes, his mother had not, in fact, been all that lovely.

"We didn't exactly… get along" Sirius continued, haltingly, "So I was convinced that she'd manage to label someone else - a proper pure-blood - as heir. It's no easy thing to prevent the inheritance of dukedom, of course, but if anyone could have done it, it would've been her… if only out of pure spite".

He was glaring ferociously at the table now, and Remus was giving him a sad, almost regretful look. Harry started to wonder if maybe Sirius's mother was a bit like the Dursleys.

"But anyway, it turns out she didn't!" he said with obviously forced cheerfulness, "Maybe she thought that disowning me would be enough to prevent me from getting the dukedom, or maybe she mellowed out in the last four remaining years of her life, or else maybe - and, I think this one is the most likely reason - she felt that by supposedly murdering twelve muggles and one of Dumbledore's closest followers, I had somehow redeemed myself… Either way, she's dead - thank Merlin! - and I'm innocent, and because of that I inherited the title and all of the properties and wealth and trouble that comes with it".

He gave him a suddenly serious look.

"So if you want to go to Hogwarts, pup, I can make it happen. I'll talk to Albus and Minerva. If anyone can pull some strings, it's me".

Harry shook his head, half-amused and half-sceptical. "I don't think even you can change school rules, Sirius - Duke of London or not".

He looked genuinely offended. "Uh, I absolutely can! Hogwarts needs a Potter back in its halls. And besides, they owe me a few favours…"

Next to him, Remus snorted and then shook his head in exasperation. "Pads, let the poor boy decide what he wants to do himself. If Harry would prefer to study for his O.W.L.s on his own, then we should respect that".

"Alright, alright, whatever! But I still think that Hogwarts would be good for you, pup, so if you ever change your mind… you just let me know, and I'll make it happen".

Harry smiled and nodded and a warm silence settled over them, the ticking clock filling in the gaps of the quiet. He stirred the remaining bit of his tea thoughtfully, feeling the weight of… everything pressing down on him. He had always wanted to belong, and here, sitting with these two men - men who had known his parents, men who wanted to know him - it felt like maybe, just maybe, he could.

Hogwarts still felt… impossible, really, but maybe, given enough time and information and thought… maybe…

For the first time in a long time, he felt like things were changing for the better. A part of him didn't fully believe it - there were still so many questions he still needed answers to - but as he looked at the two men in front of him, he allowed himself to hope.

And maybe, for now, that was enough.

"Oh, hey, speaking of Albus!" Sirius suddenly said, "We should probably tell him that his Boy Who Lived has returned".

Harry froze at the mention of Dumbledore, the instinctive "No!" threatening to burst out of him. His hand gripped the edge of his cup tightly as he fought to control his reaction. He had never met Albus Dumbledore, but based on everything he'd heard - and hadn't heard - about the man, he didn't really know how to feel about him yet.

The Headmaster had made too many choices about Harry's life without him knowing - but Sirius and Remus trusted him, and they clearly held Dumbledore in high regard. Harry couldn't afford to play his hand too early; he didn't know enough yet.

If he outright refused to meet him, it would only raise suspicion, and it was, unfortunately, going to happen sooner rather than later anyway - Dumbledore would find out he was back - and Harry would prefer their first meeting to be on his own terms.

He took a slow breath and gave a tight smile. "Yeah, I suppose we should let him know".

Sirius's face lit up again, relief evident in his grin. "Great! I'll owl him tonight and ask him to meet us here tomorrow morning. Trust me, once you meet him, you'll feel better. He's a good man, pup, really".

Remus nodded, though his expression was more reserved. "Albus has always had his reasons, Harry. Some of them may not always be easy to understand, but his heart's in the right place".

The boy hummed noncommittally, not trusting himself to say more. Meeting the old man tomorrow wouldn't give him much time to prepare. He didn't know if Dumbledore truly had his best interests in mind or if the man's decisions were guided more by what he thought was right for the greater good, but either way, Harry wasn't about to blindly trust him just yet. He wasn't ready to trust anyone entirely, not even Sirius and Remus - not until he knew more about them and their motivations.

"Alright" he finally agreed, "Tomorrow morning, then".

The conversation shifted back to lighter topics after that - Sirius telling some exaggerated story from their time at Hogwarts, Remus chiding him for embellishing the details - but Harry's mind stayed focused on the looming meeting. He couldn't let his guard down, not yet. Dumbledore was too much of an unknown.

Although he hadn't told the men this, one of his larger reasons for not wanting to attend Hogwarts right now was because Dumbledore was its Headmaster. At least if he studied for his exams himself, he wouldn't be under the man's purview or control - he would have no further say in his life. If it turned out that the old man was actually… well… good, then maybe he'd rethink his Hogwarts decision, but until he knew for certain…

Tomorrow, he'd meet Dumbledore. And then, he'd decide.

Eventually, it was time for him to go - the sun had started to dip below the horizon, casting the cobblestone street in shades of orange and gold and although Harry felt secure enough in his wandless magic to defend himself against the rougher side of life that appeared in Knockturn Alley after dark, he was also smart enough not to go inviting that trouble on himself either.

Both men hugged him again before he left, although Remus had to put a gentle hand on Sirius's arm after a few minutes and quietly tell him to let Harry go since he appeared to have no intention of doing so himself.

But even as he pulled away, his godfather kept both hands on his shoulders. There were a good few inches of height between them - although Harry was slightly mollified by the fact that at least Sirius didn't completely tower over him as Remus did - and the man had to bend at the knees to meet his gaze directly, his grey eyes burning into his very soul.

Sirius simply… looked at him, for a moment, before-

"Please don't disappear again" he whispered, half-asking, half-begging, "I don't think my heart could take it".

"I won't" Harry found himself replying, "I… I promise. I'll see you tomorrow".

After staring at him for another minute, his eyes searching his almost desperately, he finally, reluctantly stepped back.

Harry could still see the anguish on his face, the care and concern and love oozing from every single pore of the man who should have, could have, would have raised him.

As he turned to leave, that piercing gaze didn't waver, and he felt those storm cloud eyes on him until he was long out of sight.

It was a novel feeling, being wanted.