Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Well, here is a really short first chapter for the sequel. Hope you enjoy it. I didn't want to keep you waiting too long before you saw what I had in mind.

Thank you very much to everyone who took the time to read and review the original story. I was completely overwhelmed with the amount of responses I got for the last chapter. I loved writing it and I hope you enjoy continuing with me as I explore the possibilities of what would have happened during fourth year.

Thanks again! Your support and comments make all the effort worth while.

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The Hogwart's Express was churning full steam ahead as Harry gingerly made his way down the aisles in search of his friends. In years past, this day would have brought him immeasurable joy and comfort as the train sped towards the Scottish castle that Harry called home.

This year was different, though.

This year, the brightly polished scarlet engine was taking him further and further away from his home with each passing minute. He was slightly comforted by the thought that his godfather was going to be at Hogwarts when he arrived and had promised to visit with him after the traditional welcoming feast. Harry was sure that he would be able to settle in to school easier if Sirius was going to be able to spend just a bit more time with him. Maybe his godfather would even consent to accompanying him to the Gryffindor common room for a little while. He was sure that Sirius might enjoy spending a few moments in the familiar surroundings of what had been his school house as well. He wondered which dorm room Sirius and his father had shared. He would ask his godfather which beds they slept in. It was always fun learning new things about his parents.

With this comforting thought in mind, he pushed forward, checking the carriages as he went until he found the one containing his two best friends. As he pulled open the door, he could hear the excited chirping of the little Scops owl that Sirius had gifted Ron with earlier. The tiny creature was banging irately against the bars of his cage and Ron had draped a ghastly looking burgundy cloth with ratty lace over it.

"What _is_ that?" he asked, pointing to the shabby fabric. Ron blushed and turned his embarrassed look over to the window, avoiding Harry's question. Hermione gave Harry a hard glare, telling him silently to _shut his mouth_, as she answered in a matter of fact tone.

"They're Ron's dress robes, of course," she stated haughtily. "His Mum got him a more traditional set. Aren't they fancy?" she insisted, her eyes fiercely daring Harry to contradict her. Harry caught the meaning and struggled to compose himself.

"Oh, ah sure. They're brilliant," he agreed, thinking uncomfortably about the dark green, much more sedate set packed safely in his trunk. Thankfully, Sirius had picked them out. Harry didn't know what they were supposed to look like, but he suspected that what Ron had wasn't it.

Ron had had enough. He let out a huff of air and turned back to face them. "Don't push the man, Hermione. Anyone can see that they're rubbish," he scowled.

Harry dropped down on the seat next to Ron and clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder in sympathy. "Don't worry about it, mate. It's not as if we ever use these things at school anyway. When was the last time you saw any of the students in them?"

Ron's face fell. "I don't know, but Percy was hinting pretty heavily that we would need them this year. Wouldn't tell me why, though. I think my dad knows, Bill and Charlie too. They all kept teasing us about some big event going on at school. Percy was strutting around like a real prat. Wish I could have jinxed him," he sighed, longingly.

The threesome sat and pondered the possibilites for a while until they heard the familiar cry of "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Harry saw Ron and Hermione reach for their money pouches and waved them off, producing the pouch his godfather had given him. "It's on Sirius today, guys. He gave this to me just to buy stuff from the trolley." With that, he proceeded to procure a large armload of pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes and various other sweets.

"Must be nice to have a filthy rich godfather," Ron remarked offhandedly, as he packed his cheeks with Droobles. Hermione shot him a death glare and he gave her a confused look.

"What?" he mumbled through a mouthful of confections. Hermione huffed and elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"I'm sure Harry doesn't care about how much money Sirius has, Ronald," she scolded angrily. Immediately, Ron's face turned sheepish.

"I'm sorry, mate. I didn't mean it like that," he apologized. Harry smirked at him and waved it off.

"It _is_ nice," he admitted. "It's nice just _having_ a godfather. I wouldn't care if Sirius had nothing at all, as long as I still got to live with him."

Ron and Hermione just stared at the sincerity in their friend's words and face. Normally, they all tried hard not to think about Harry's lack of parents and the hard home life he had previously endured with his heartless aunt and uncle. After a long awkward moment, Harry decided that the atmosphere had become all too serious.

"Too bad I'll have to watch how much trouble I get into this year. That'll be something new, anyway," he snorted, trying to lighten mood. "Sirius wasn't exactly shy about telling me that he expects me to behave myself. Don't know how I'm going to pull that one off with the luck I normally have at school."

The gentle ribbing was working as he saw Ron and Hermione start to chuckle. Ron grinned widely as he threw Harry another chocolate frog.

"Bad luck, mate. You're in the same boat as we are now," he teased. Hermione, her teeth chattering from the mouthful of ice mice she was consuming, just nodded sagely.

Harry gave the two a disbelieving look. Seeing that his friend wasn't getting the picture, Ron huffed impatiently.

"Come on, mate! You didn't think that we just got away with all of that stuff, did you?" he asked incredulously.

"Um..I..ah..no?" Harry stammered. They had never mentioned anything to him about it at all.

Hermione, her tongue warming back up, rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, Harry. The troll, first year? I lost my allowance for a month when McGonagall told my parents," she huffed.

Ron nodded. "I was grounded for two weeks as soon as I was home for the summer. And, I got smacked with Mum's spoon." Harry's eyes went wide as Hermione continued.

"Going after the sorcerer's stone, when we disobeyed the rules to stay away from the third floor door? Mum and Dad took away my library privileges for half of the summer!" she shrieked, as if the world had ended. Ron choked up some Bertie Bott's and coughed for several minutes before recovering. "Yeah, mate. I had to spend a month de-gnoming the garden. And, I got smacked with Mum's spoon." Harry smirked. He was beginning to sense a pattern here. Ron refilled his mouth and went on.

"The car, second year? You know about the Howler. You don't know that I had to spend a month scrubbing every square inch of the house. _And," _he finished with a little smile, " I got smacked with Mum's spoon." Hermione nodded this time. "The little mistake with the Polyjuice Potion? When Madame Pomfrey had to get rid of the cat face for me? I lost a trip to Paris for that."

Harry held his hands up in defeat, a look of genuine remorse on his face. "Sorry about all that, you guys. Really. How come you never said anything to me about it?"

His two friends stopped the jesting for a moment and stared at each other uncomfortably. Harry frowned. "What?"

Hermione reached over to put her hand on Harry's knee. "We..we didn't want to say anything to you, Harry. Because, well...you know." She shrugged and turned her gaze away from him.

"Because we didn't want to remind you that we had parents and you didn't, mate," Ron finished quietly.

Harry looked at the two of them, a large swell of affection for them building up in his chest. They really were the two best friends a bloke could have.

"Yeah, well, at least I'll join you in the dog house now," he snorted affably. "In case you didn't notice, Sirius is not really one to sit by quietly when I get into trouble."

The two shot sheepish looks at him, especially Ron who had still not forgiven himself for getting Harry into such deep water over the grove incident. Feeling extraordinarily fond of them and completely mischievous to boot, he shook his head sadly with a disbelieving look on his face.

"You two did all of that stuff with me, knowing how bad you would catch it, and yet you did it anyways? A couple of nutters, the both of you! What am I even thinking hanging out with you?"

His reward was an intense and immediate pelting with a shower of Bertie Bott's and ice mice, the three mates giggling madly as Harry covered his head to shield himself from the flying pastilles.

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The rain was still coming down in buckets when the train arrived at the station in Hogsmeade. Holding tightly to their possessions as they made mad dashes for the carriages, the three fourth years clambered aboard, thankful to be out of the torrential downpour. The gratitude didn't last long, though. As they dashed into the castle, they were immediately assaulted with large red balloons filled with water. Looking up, the could see Peeves the Poltergeist laughing maniacally above them.

Muttering words that would surely have gotten his mouth washed out with soap if his godfather had heard him, Harry cursed the translucent imp as he poured water out of his trainers and onto the castle floors. He grumbled in discomfort at the requirement of having to wear his uniform the first night back. His wool pants and jumper were wet and itchy, his robe soggy and his tie was rubbing irritably at his neck.

Cold, wet and extremely hungry, they filed their way into the Great Hall. Taking places at the Gryffindor table, Harry was verbally accosted by Colin Creevey, a pint sized third year who practically worshipped the ground that Harry walked on. Harry, stomach growling irritably and soaked to the skin, tried very patiently to endure the boy's overactive enthusiasm as he pointed out his little brother who had just fallen into the lake out of the boats and was currently sporting Hagrid's furry coat, drenched beyond all comfort.

Harry and Ron held their empty stomachs impatiently as they sat through a rather longish version of the Sorting Hat's welcoming song. Harry would have given almost anything for someone to hex the decrepit thing shut if it meant that dinner would arrive that much more quickly. Although he had eaten plenty of sweets on the train, he was really regretting not heeding Sirius' advice to tuck into a decent breakfast that morning. Scowling, he knew that if his godfather could see him right now, he would certainly not hesitate to say "I told you so". Annoyed, but still slightly amused, Harry wondered if all parents took satisfaction when their children realized that they were right about things, or if it was just his parent.

_Parent_. He liked to say the word in his mind.

Speaking of which, he looked around and didn't see his godfather anywhere around the Great Hall. Harry had just assumed that Sirius would meet him for dinner. But, then again, he did say he would see him _after _the feast. Maybe whatever project he was working on for Dumbledore had him busy right now, but he would search Harry out afterwards.

Finally, the sorting began. As luck would have it, Gryffindor was the recipient of the newest little Creevey and the table applauded its approval. As the names were called out and the house was announced, Harry felt his attention wander around the room settling, for a pleasant moment, on the Ravenclaw table. He briefly caught the eye of Cho Chang. A beautiful Ravenclaw with long black hair and a pretty smile. Of course Harry was familiar with her as she played seeker for her house's Quidditch team. Attractive _and _a Quidditch player. Harry felt an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach as he gave her a rather goofy little smile and received one in return. Face flushed with embarrassment, he returned his attention to the head table where the headmaster was standing to give his annual welcome speech.

"Tuck in," the smirking headmaster declared.

Thankfully, for the ravenous boys, the tables magically loaded with food, heavy enough to make the solid oak fixtures practically groan under the weight. Harry filled his plate dangerously high and was soon shoveling steak and potatoes into his mouth at an indelicate pace. Across the table, Ron had gone completely silent as he used both hands to expedite his food's trip from plate to mouth. So happy were they to finally be feasting, they barely noticed the conversation between Nearly Headless Nick and Hermione. It wasn't until Hermione threw her cutlery down with a clatter that they each swallowed a large mouthful to be able to ask her what the matter was.

"House Elves!" she screeched, as if that answered all of their questions. Seeing the blank, stunned looks on the boys' faces, she huffed and forced herself to explain.

"Hogwarts uses house elves."

Harry looked at Ron, who looked right back at him. They didn't really understand what the problem was and, seeing that, Hermione became even more enraged.

"Our dinner, was made with _slave_ labor!" she cried out. Now half of the table had stopped eating to see what the problem was.

"Hermione," Harry began, careful not to provoke another outburst, "we have house elves at Celestial Court. You know that. My whole birthday party was done by them."

"That's..that's different," she sputtered. "Sirius told me himself that he would free any of his elves that wanted to go."

"But, then, how do you know that Hogwarts wouldn't do the same?" Ron asked, dumbfounded. Hermione had had enough. Throwing her napkin on the table, she glared at the redhead. "Oh, shut up, Ronald!"

She sat at the table, with her arms crossed, and refused to take another bite. Harry looked at Ron, who looked right back at him. They both shrugged and continued to snorkel their way through several courses.

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After pudding was served and consumed, while Hermione huffed about all the hours the poor elves must have slaved away to make the fancy pastries, the headmaster clinked his spoon against his gold goblet in an attempt to get everyone's attention. In the din of the after dinner conversation, it took a fair few moments to get the large number of students to quiet down and listen to what Dumbledore had to say.

It went along as it usually did. Filch had registered yet another complaint regarding contraband items, they now numbered in the four hundreds. The Forbidden Forest was out of bounds, blah, blah, blah. Harry was full to the brim and getting very sleepy. The idea of peeling off his wet sticky clothes and donning a soft pair of pajamas before climbing into his nice warm bed in the dorm was wildly appealing at this particular moment in time. He had to keep reminding himself that his godfather was on the grounds somewhere and they would meet up for a bit before the students were sent to bed. He should probably unpack a bit and Hedwig needed attending to.

Looking across the table, he could see Ron practically dropping off as well. While Harry had consumed a shocking amount of supper, his redhead friend broke the laws of physics as he packed away an amount that could not possibly be resting comfortably in his lanky frame.

Harry forced his eyes open, staring in rapt concentration at the charmed ceiling. The weather outside had not improved and the sky was gray, ugly and menacing. Entranced, he felt Hermione tug at his sleeve and jerked her head pointedly towards the headmaster. Blinking rapidly, Harry picked up the speech in progress.

"It has been many years since the last time an event of this magnitude has been held here at Hogwarts. The Tri-Wizard Cup has traditionally been a friendly competition between the three largest wizarding schools in Europe. On Halloween, our castle will play host to the young ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy as well as the proud sons of Durmstrang."

Ron leaned over and whispered conspiratorially to Harry. "Lots of rumors about Durmstrang, mate. They don't just teach Defense against the Dark Arts there. They actually teach the Dark Arts themselves," he croaked, in awe.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued, "due to the requirements of the tournament, the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Harry practically jumped to his feet in disagreement and he wasn't the only one. All around the room were the plaintive cries against the cancelling of the school's favorite sport. Harry shot a look over to Fred and George Weasley who were so distraught that they seemed unable to croak out a complaint. The twins just sat there, wordlessly mouthing harsh criticisms. Harry felt a small hole rip up in his stomach. What would he do without Quidditch?

It didn't seem to help that this bothersome tournament was only for students that were seventeen or older. At barely fourteen, Harry had no chance at all being involved in any way in the event that had pushed his beloved Quidditch out of the way. Not that he wanted to. After hearing about how past champions had died in their pursuit for eternal glory, he happily passed on the idea. He had never had any trouble attracting death threats on a regular basis to begin with. No need to go start searching for them on his own. He thought, for a moment, about what Sirius would do to him if he tried to enter something frivolous with a high casualty rate. He shuddered at the possibilities. There was no doubt that his godfather would go completely mental.

Off to the side, he heard the Weasley twins already starting to plot a way around the age restriction. He honestly didn't see Molly looking too kindly on their participation either, but he held his tongue. At least Fred and George were almost the right age. They would turn seventeen in the middle of the tournament.

His mind started to wander again as to the whereabouts of his godfather. Surely he would have found a way to find Harry by now? His attention was diverted by a large crack of thunder in the enchanted ceiling. The room went dark for a moment in the after shock of the lightening bolt. He noticed several students looking off to the side and he caught a glimpse of the most odd looking man he had ever seen.

The man's face was almost entirely mutilated and he seemed to have a vivid blue fake eye that whirled in its socket disturbingly. He was large, thick and walked with a limp. He ambled his way over to the professor's table and took a seat, grabbing a plate of sausages and sniffing them suspiciously. While the students sat on their benches, taking in the questionable sight, a large grin spread across the headmaster's face as he introduced the man.

His name was Alastor Moody and he was, apparently, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Harry knew that name. So did Ron, it seems, as it was Ron who explained to Hermione that Moody was a former Auror and responsible for filling half the cells in Azkaban. While Hermione tried hard not to look repulsed or impressed by the grotesque man who was now gnawing on the sausages like a predator, a memory clicked inside Harry's mind.

"I've heard about him. He was Sirius' mentor at the Auror Academy. Really talented. Had most of Voldemort's (he ignored Ron's squeak at the use of the name) supports scared out of their wits that he would come for them. Sirius told me that the Ministry chucked him recently. Seems to have gone round the twist," he informed his friends.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Dad said the same thing. Said they call him 'Mad Eye'. Probably for more than one reason."

Hermione blinked rapidly, regaining her composure. "Well, at least we'll have a DADA teacher who is worth something. Obviously a decorated ex-Auror would know a thing or two. After lucking out with Professor Lupin, I was afraid that we might get stuck with another nutter like Quirrell or Lockhart."

They halted their whispered conversation when Dumbledore cleared his throat again.

"I have one more final announcement this evening. As some of you may know, Professor Sinistra has taken a well deserved sabbatical this year to do an intense study on white dwarf stars. As such, it is my great pleasure to introduce our new Astronomy professor."

As the new professor came out and sauntered elegantly towards the main table, a collective gasp fell across the entire Great Hall. At the Gryffindor table, a bushy haired brunette let out a small gasp, a lanky redhead spit pumpkin juice across the table and the messy black haired boy, trying to avoid his mate's liquid projectile, stood up in joyful recognition.

"Please welcome, Professor Sirius Black."

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A/N yeah, yeah. You knew that this had to be coming, right? You didn't think that I would let Harry off that easily, did you? Of course, Sirius is following him to Hogwarts if he's not going back to the aurors. We know he doesn't do well alone in houses, right? ;) I promise, next chapter will be longer!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I'm floored by the response you guys gave for the sequel! Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review!

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The collective gasp gave way for raucous applause as the students of Hogwarts expressed their delight in the choice of the new Astronomy professor. After all, these days Sirius Black was practically a rock star in the wizarding world. The boys looked up to him as a brave soldier in the fight against Voldemort. A highly decorated former Auror who battled the dark lord himself during the last war. Not only that, but he had the reputation of being the largest ladies man that ever walked the hallowed halls of Hogwarts. That alone put awe in the minds of the young impressionable men. The girls were swooning at his movie star looks, the daring escape from his unfair imprisonment, at great personal peril, just to rescue his beloved godson from the clutches of the vermin filth that was responsible for the deaths of the parents of the boy who lived and, most importantly, the dreamy way he made all the female reporters fall all over themselves from his effortless flattery when they interviewed him.

In the eyes of the Hogwarts students, Professor Black was danger, bravery, chivalry and genius with a big gooey center all wrapped up in a devilshly handsome package.

So, even though the enthusiasm over his appointment was a bit underwhelming over at the Slytherin table, the other three tables shot to their feet and thundered their approval of the latest addition to the staff.

While the other staff members at the table just rolled their eyes at the overt display of welcome, mostly ignoring Snape disgustedly muttering _'oh, for Merlin's sake!_, the new professor raked his silvery eyes across the room searching for the one student whose approval he sought most anxiously. In the middle of the sea of black robes, he finally found the small figure at the red and gold accented table, his black hair, seemingly wet, plastered to his forehead, his green eyes shining excitedly in the middle of the round spectacle frames, his mouth grinning widely as he energetically clapped his hands together. Silvery gray met emerald green as the boy communicated his sincere affirmation. Sirius let out a deep breath in relief.

After a fair bit of appreciation, the excitement died down and the headmaster directed the students to go off to their common rooms to get settled in. Sirius stood on the platform of the staff table waiting for the large crowds of buzzing adolescents to file out of the Great Hall. Likewise, the three fourth year Gryffindors that he was so fond of waited patiently at their own table, knowing that he would find them.

Once the prefects had led their charges away from the massive room, the new professor strode casually over to his former house's table to where his godson stood watching him intently. When he was finally standing in front of Harry, the boy leaned into his offered embrace and gripped him tightly. Sirius held him for just a moment as he realized that Harry's clothes were damp and cold. He couldn't believe that his godson was still drenched from being outside earlier.

"Merlin, Harry. You're going to get sick at this rate." He frowned as he cast a drying and then a warming charm on the slightly shivering boy before doing the same for his two companions. Gratefully, all three enjoyed the new comfort, finally free of the dank clammy environment of the castle.

Harry was smiling at him, his green eyes dancing with mirth. "_Professor_?" he asked. Sirius reached out a hand to cup Harry's chin and looked at him, worried.

"Um, it would seem so," he stated uncertainly. "Is this okay with you? I admit, I wasn't sure what Albus had in mind when he assured me that I would be making the right choice in letting you come back this year. It might make things awkward for you to have your guardian on staff and on the grounds. You won't just be another student to me."

Harry answered him by shaking his head back and forth rapidly. "No, no. It's brilliant, Sirius! I'm really glad you're here," he insisted.

Ron and Hermione, not having previously heard about Harry's return this term ever being in doubt, decided that now was a good time for them to make their excuses and leave the two alone. Saying good night to Sirius and telling Harry that they would see him later in the common room, they left.

Sirius put an arm around his godson and leaned over to wink at him. "Do you want to go see my new quarters?" Harry nodded and his godfather gave him a quick squeeze and led him in the direction of the Astronomy tower.

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After climbing their way up the curling staircase, Sirius stopped them in front of a door that Harry had never noticed before just below the level where the classroom was. His godfather tapped the door with his wand twice and then it swept open to reveal a very homey sitting room, a crackling fire already dancing merrily in the hearth. A leather overstuffed sofa and two handsome, but mismatched, high back chairs surrounded the stone fireplace. To the left of the room, a small square table of polished mahogany with four slightly scuffed matching chairs stood underneath a serene portrait of the night sky.

Across from where they were standing were four other doors, their layout circling the room as if to inform an observer that the spaces behind them followed the soft curve of the tower. At Harry's questiong look, Sirius pointed out each one to let the boy know what was there.

Starting with the door furthest to the left, he indicated, "My room, then that's the bath, next to that is a spare room for Remus...what?" he asked, a little defensively at Harry's smirk. Harry just shook his head, smiling widely. After a second, Sirius rolled his eyes and admitted, "Alright, perhaps I might miss the furry little monster every now and then." Harry just shrugged. He had no trouble believing that his godfather might miss spending time with the only close friend he had left.

"So, what's the last room, then?" he asked innocently. Sirius frowned for a minute before trying to put a hopeful smile on his face. He gently propelled his godson over to the door and then leaned over to grab the handle. "This is your room, Harry."

Sirius opened the door wide for Harry to see. The boy was surprised to find that the room was very similar to his dorm room in Gryffindor tower but just a little bit smaller. There was one window that oversaw the grounds behind the castle. A four poster bed with the same hanging curtains that Harry's dorm bed had took up most of the space against the curving wall. A small but serviceable desk and chair were propped up across from the bed next to the door. There were even a couple of Gryffindor banners decorating the stone blocks. Harry walked around the room with a small smile on his face. He was pleased beyond words that Sirius would have thought to ask for an extra room for him in his professor's accommodations.

Then, an unpleasant realization came over him and he stopped short to gaze in horror at his confused godfather.

"Uh, Sirius? Does..does this mean that I won't be living in the dorm this year?" he asked, a little worriedly. While he was pleased that Sirius was thinking about him, he didn't want the stigma of being the only student at Hogwart's that had to live somewhere other than the dorm. People stared enough as it was.

Sirius frowned and let out a large breath of air. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and sat, motioning for Harry to come and do the same.

"I thought about it," he admitted. "I know that it would be much easier keeping an eye on you if you lived here with me. To be honest Harry, it wasn't easy for me to let you come back here knowing about all the terrible things you have had to face since you started school. Can you understand why I would be worried about you?"

Harry nodded slowly, desperately trying to ignore the little queasy feeling that had settled in the bottom of his stomach. Sure, he knew what kind of troubles he normally found himself in, but it was just going to be too embarrassing to be singled out like this. Malfoy, for one, would certainly take every opportunity to insult him with it.

"However," he heard his godfather continue, "I decided that it would be very unfair to you so, no, you won't be _living_ here, exactly. What I would like to do is have you stay here on the weekends, when the chances of you getting into dangerous mischief seem to be a little higher." Harry blushed as he internally acknowledged that the statement was pretty true. Sirius winked at him when he saw Harry's mind working.

"Also, I want you to come and eat dinner here with me at night. Call it making up for thirteen missed years of family time. You may invite Ron and Hermione once a week to join us and I'll arrange something special for all of us," Sirius said in what he hoped would be an encouraging voice. Harry knew that he should have taken umbrage against such a suggestion, but surprisingly, he found himself looking forward to it.

"Okay," he agreed affably. He was rewarded with a big grin as Sirius saved the best part for last.

"I know it won't be easy having your guardian here at school, and I am sorry about that. But, that doesn't mean that there can't be upsides to it as well."

Harry's ears perked up at the suggestion that this arrangement was just about to get better. Sirius always had a way to compensate for something if he thought it particularly dreary for Harry.

"Since I _am _here, I can do things like take you to Hogsmeade on the weekends, even when the other students can't go. Also, seeing how you are apparently going to be missing out on Quidditch this year, I can always take you home for the weekend and you can fly there if you want."

"Yes!" Harry whooped enthusiastically as he launched himself at his godfather. Sirius was pleased with Harry's reaction and relieved that he was taking everything so well. He couldn't imagine what his reaction would have been at fourteen to find out that James' father was going to be at the school teaching or, even worse, his own father. That unpleasant little thought sent shivers of revulsion down his spine.

"Well, I'm glad we have that settled," he chuckled as he hugged his godson. "I'll take you on Saturday so we can get some things to decorate your room with." Harry pulled back, nodding enthusiastically. Sirius pushed the fringe off of his forehead and gave him a sad smile. "I owe you a trip there, anyway," he said softly. After that horrible day, they never did find the time to go together, even after the media interest died down.

Harry's ears flushed red in embarrassment, remembering how awful he had acted at the beginning of the summer. "I'm really sorry about what I did that day, Sirius," he apologized sincerely. His godfather just shook his head. "Don't. It was forgiven and forgotten long ago. Let's just go on Saturday and have a proper day out, what do you say?"

Harry grinned in deep appreciation at his godfather's easy going manner. "Okay."

They were quiet for a moment before Harry remembered to ask about the other big event that day. "So, why didn't Dumbledore ask you to teach DADA instead of Mad Eye Moody?"

Sirius frowned. "Well, for one thing, I don't want to hear you call Alastor that. It's very rude. Alastor was the best auror the Ministry ever had and he deserves more respect than that," he scolded. "He saved my life on more than one occasion. Your dad's too."

Harry blushed from the stern rebuke and lowered his eyes to the stone floor. "Sorry," he muttered apologetically.

"The official reason is, of course, his vast experience in the field of defense," Sirius continued, not wanting to dwell on Harry's chastisement. He paused, thinking, and then decided to proceed. "The _unofficial_ reason is you, actually." Harry's head jerked up and he gave his godfather a look of surprise. "Me? What about me?"

Dumbledore had not wanted Harry to know the reason behind Alastor's presence but, once again, Sirius had disagreed with him. Harry always seemed to act more rationally when given the truth behind an action. He did not respond well to being left in the dark.

"I'm going to tell you something. I'm sure you already realize it, but I want to say it anyway, okay?" he couched his wording. Harry, perplexed, nodded. "We believe that your nightmares are a sign that Voldemort is once again on the rise. Add those to the very blatant outbreak of death eater activity at the Cup and we would appear to have quite a problem on our hands. Dumbledore is seeing the signs, even if the Ministry is not. It is for this reason that I have taken a position here this year and why Alastor was cajoled out of retirement. You have a lot of people working very hard right now to ensure that you are kept safe. Do you understand?"

Harry took a minute to process this information. He had thought that his nightmares were something more than what they seemed. He could just feel it. He hated to be the cause of so much extra work for everyone though. He didn't like to bother as he got enough unwanted attention as it was. He looked up at his godfather's expectant face and nodded slowly.

Sirius placed a comforting arm on the boy's small shoulder. "With the Tri-Wizard Tournament being held here this year, there are going to be a lot of unfamiliar faces milling around the castle grounds. I don't want you to trust _anyone_, do you hear me?"

Harry nodded again. "Yes, sir."

Sirius' face relaxed visibly. The fact that Igor Karkaroff, a known death eater who bargained his way out of Azkaban, was going to be spending most of the school year at Hogwarts was reason enough to get Alastor on board. Sirius was grateful for the presence of his former mentor. He had been livid when he found out about the tournament. Bloody Barty Crouch and his big ideas. Sirius wanted nothing more than to hex the man into next week for a variety of reasons. Endangering his godson unnecessarily was top of the list, although not by much.

"The Tri-Wizard is nothing to mess about with. I'm actually quite unhappy that they have decided to revive it," Sirius griped.

He didn't seem to feel the need to mention that, if the Tri-Wizard had been held during his time at Hogwarts, he and James would have tripped over themselves trying to get into it. His godson did not need to know that little tidbit of potentially problematic information _at all_.

"I don't want to hear about you or your friends trying to get past the age restriction. It is nothing to be mucked about with. I don't want you anywhere near this thing. Do you understand, young man?" He gave Harry the sternest look he could manage. Age had obviously not factored into any of Harry's previously planned adventures.

Harry nodded quickly. He didn't want any part of it either. "Yes, sir."

Sirius let out a long breath. It had been a very tiring day. Looking over at his godson, he could see that Harry's eyes were beginning to get heavy as well.

"Come on, its time to get you back to the dorm and into bed," he stated, standing up quickly and waiting for Harry to follow. Harry stood slowly, a small grin spreading on his face.

"Astronomy, Sirius? Really? You didn't even make me study for it this summer. How important could it be?" he teased.

Sirius let out a huff. "Don't be cheeky, young man. I know a thing or two about astronomy. Just you wait and see." He put an arm around Harry's shoulders and led him out the door.

"It's past curfew. I'll walk you back."

The two made their way through the darkened corridors, quietly laughing and making plans for the Hogsmeade trip. As they approached the door for the Gryffindor common room, the Fat Lady recognized Sirius and let out a shriek of horror.

"You! Stay away from me! I'm warning you!" she yelled in her tone deaf high pitched squeal.

Immediately, Sirius was suave and apologetic. "Dear lady, please forgive me!", he cooed sleekly as he flashed her a sparkly toothy grin. "I apologize for being so...enthusiastic the last time we met. Surely, a thing of such beauty as yourself is well used to men desiring to ravage you?"

It worked. She shamelessly began to flutter her eyelashes and simper as Sirius favored her with a rakish wink. Standing next to him, his godson was feeling a bit sick as he usually did when observing his godfather's oily smooth flattery. Vaguely, he wished for a sharp needle with which he might be able to poke out his mind's eye to avoid seeing the mental image that was threatening to burst forth in his brain.

Sirius noticed the boy's discomfort and smirked. "Go on in, then. I'll see you tomorrow." Harry nodded and allowed his godfather to give him a quick hug and a kiss on the top of his head. He wished his godfather good night and proceeded towards the now opened common room door. He turned briefly to see Sirius smiling sadly at him.

"I really am glad you are here, Sirius," he said earnestly. His godfather brightened up at the words. "Me too. Sweet dreams, tonight." Harry returned his smile and went inside. Sirius watched him close the door behind him and his face grew cloudy and dark again. "Please, Merlin. Sweet dreams for him. He doesn't deserve any of this."

*******************************************************

When Harry arrived in the common room, Ron and Hermione immediately jumped on him.

"Did you know Sirius was going to be teaching here?"

"Why didn't you tell us you might not have been allowed back?"

"Does he really enjoy astronomy?"

"Is this anything to do with Moody?"

"Are you going to be living with him now?"

"Why didn't you tell us anything?"

Harry sighed and tugged off his heavy robe. Throwing it casually over the back of the sofa, he plopped down on the seat in front of the fire and viciously ripped his tie off.

"Come on guys, one at a time," he groaned wearily.

Ron butted in before Hermione could open her mouth. "Did you know?" Harry shook his head, closing his eyes. He was really tired. "No, I didn't. Neither did he, really. It was all sorted out today while we were on the train."

Hermione frowned at him, her eyes half scrunched in displeasure. "Why didn't you tell us that he was thinking about keeping you home, this term?" Harry opened his eyes and shrugged. "No reason, really. I only found out that he was considering it at all the same day he decided that I could go. It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Not a big deal?" Ron stated, unconvinced. "What would you have done if he had made you stay at home?"

Harry shrugged again. He didn't want them to know how worried he had been about the possibility. Hermione spared him the task of responding. "Well, he was already being tutored, wasn't he? Surely Sirius and Remus would have continued with his lessons at home."

"Blimey, mate. That would have been really bad luck," Ron commiserated companionably.

"Does this have anything to do with why Dumbledore hired Mad-Eye?" Hermione probed. Like a tenacious terrier, once on the trail of a subject, she pursued the answers aggressively.

Harry frowned and winced a little. "Don't let Sirius hear you call him that. I made that mistake just a little while ago. My ears are still ringing. Sirius says that Moody is here because of the nightmares that I have been having."

He stopped and looked around the common room. It was empty except for Fred and George who were huddled over in a corner whispering to each other furiously. They obviously were not interested in the conversation that the other three were having, so Harry felt safe to continue.

"He says that Dumbledore is seeing signs that Voldemort..cut it out, Ron...that Voldemort is getting stronger. Also, with all of the activity here with the Tri-Wizard, there are going to be a lot of unfamiliar faces around school. He says that I'm not to trust anyone."

Ron perked back up. "It would be brilliant, though, wouldn't it?" he sighed longingly. "A thousand galleons in prize money. I can think of a few things to do with that. I bet Sirius would be dead useful in helping us figure out how to get through the tasks."

Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Sirius couldn't help even if you were of age, Ronald. Teachers are prohibited from giving assistance to the champions."

Ron grunted at her tone. "Just saying, Hermione. No need to get your knickers in a twist."

Ignoring the redhead, Hermione turned her attention back to Harry who had been sitting quietly watching the little sparring match in amusement. "So Sirius is going to let you stay in the dorms, then?"

Harry nodded. "Mostly. I have a room of my own in his quarters and I have to stay there on the weekends but, otherwise, I can stay here. I have to go up there for dinner every night though. He's calling it 'family time'," he snorted.

Ron joined him in a smirk, but Hermione wasn't fooled. She could see the genuine smile underneath Harry's teen aged bravado, and he could see that she could see it. The two shared a small look of understanding.

"But," Harry continued, "I'm allowed to have you guys join us once a week, if you want to. Sirius said that he would plan something special on the nights you come up."

The other two were visibly intrigued. Sirius' plan were always brilliant. They both nodded in enthusiastic agreement. Harry decided to tease them with the best part.

Affecting an air of nonchalance, he announced "oh yeah, I get to go to Hogsmeade on the weekends, too. Even on days when they're not on the student schedule. One of the perks of being a professor's kid, I suppose. Also, he said if I wanted to fly, he would take me home on the weekends. Guess he feels bad about Quidditch being canceled."

Hermione gave him a disapproving look at the overt bragging, but Ron just groaned and smashed his head back into the sofa cushion. "So completely unfair, mate," he griped.

Harry laughed before pushing himself up off of the sofa. "I'm knackered," he said with a yawn. "G'night."

His friends bid him good night as he trudged up the stairs. In the room, the other three boys were already asleep, so he quietly changed for bed and let Hedwig out to hunt. Slipping gratefully into the warmed bed, he fell into a pleasant sleep, content that his life was finally perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N As usual, a great big thanks to all the reviewers! You guys spur me on! I know that it seems like maybe Harry and Sirius are acting a bit too clingy, but they have only had a couple of months together as a family and it is something that they have both been yearning for for a long time. I think they both would be reluctant to give it up just yet.  
In time, it will happen, but not for a good while. I'll be addressing all the fourth year events in canon as well as adding a few curves of my own.

Thanks again for taking the time to read!

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Feeling unusually light and happy, Harry loped along with Ron and Hermione to breakfast the next day. When they arrived at the Gryffindor table, they took their usual seats and began pulling food towards their plates. Ron noted with satisfaction that Hermione seemed to have gotten over her aversion to food as she generously spread jam on her toast. Teasing her about it, she just waved him off with a cagey proclamation of "There are other ways."

Harry munched contentedly on a sausage as his eyes scanned the head table. At the far end, he caught his godfather's attention as he sat between Hagrid and Moody. Sirius winked at him and indicated that he should look down at his plate. Dropping his gaze to the table, Harry saw that three colorful pills had appeared beside his goblet of pumpkin juice. Recognizing them immediately as the vitamins he had been given each morning at Celestial Court, he rolled his eyes and popped them in his mouth, making a very big show of swallowing them for his godfather's benefit. Sirius caught the sarcasm in the boy's enthusiasm and burst out laughing, to the confusion of the other professors at the table. At his own table, Harry caught the perplexed glances of his two mates and shook his head.

"Never mind. Just Sirius being Sirius," he smirked. It never failed to amuse him, or secretly please him, every time his godfather did something so paternal like insisting on good nutrition. Anyone who knew him outside the house would never have believed that Sirius Black had actually grown up. Amazing what instant fatherhood did to some people. Well, that and twelve years in Azkaban.

Across the table, Ron was going over their schedule for the day. To their dismay, Astronomy was not on the list and Harry felt a pang of disappointment at not being able to attend his godfather's class on their first day back.

"Still can't believe he's going to be teaching Astronomy of all things," Harry stated in a bemused voice. "Who would have thought?" Ron joined him in shaking his head at the strange choice of curriculum. Hermione gave both of them a hard glare before huffing loudly and slapping her hand on the table.

Practically choking on a bite of toast, Harry let out a strangled cough before groaning, "What?"

With her eyes set angrily at the two boys, she shook her head. "Honestly, aren't the two of you _ever_ going to read _Hogwarts: A History_? I mean, really, after three years, aren't you the least bit interested in the school you attend?"

The boys gave her matching looks suggesting that they did not have any plans to read the bulky tome she swore by regularly and she seethed in frustration. Composing herself, she gave each of them a death glare before deigning to explain.

"The Black family has traditionally been very generous in their support of the study of Astronomy at Hogwarts. All of the equipment we use during our classes was donated by Sirius' family, and the massive upkeep of the tower is paid for with a grant that they have been providing for centuries. They say that the reason that the tower is off limits except during class time is because the Blacks have several rooms in the tower where they keep all manner of dark objects used to study star patterns. Things used for a very dark form of divination. They believe that their power should be equated with the powers of the universe at large."

Seeing that the boys were suitably impressed with her revelations, she chose to continue, slightly smugly. "I don't suppose that it has ever caught your attention that all of the Blacks are named after stars and constellations, has it?" Harry shook his head, suddenly very aware of how little he had bothered to learn about his new 'family'.

"Well, Sirius isn't like that," he defended vehemently. "He doesn't believe in all of that pure blood, all powerful nonsense."

Hermione patted his hand comfortingly. "Of course he doesn't. I'm just telling you why he would naturally have a large knowledge of astronomy in particular. I'm sure his family had him studying everything about the subject his entire life."

Grudgingly, Harry admitted that it made sense. He just hated to think that Sirius was being forced to do something that his despised family made him do, especially if it was to help watch out for Harry. Sirius had never mentioned an affinity for astronomy but, upon thinking about it, Harry couldn't believe that he had been so blind. Their house was named _Celestial Court_, for Merlin's sake. Everywhere he looked, there was some fixture with a star/planet decor design about it. Harry had just never really given it much thought. At the time, he just assumed that Sirius' Uncle Alphard had been, well, a little one track minded in his housewares.

With a start, they realized that they were about to be late for their first class. Downing the last gulps of pumpkin juice and grabbing their school bags, the three of them hastily made their way down to the greenhouses for double Herbology. Although they arrived a couple of minutes tardy, Professor Sprout, the round, good natured, perpetually dirty professor, just gave them a small glare as they rushed to their places around the table before clearing her throat and resuming her morning lecture.

Afterwards, an entire class period was spent collecting bubotuber pus for Madam Pompfrey. Nearly choking on the overwhelming scent of petrol that the gloppy liquid emanated, Harry was happier than usual when the class came to an end.

A trip down to Hagrid's for their Care of Magical Creatures class yielded an introduction to Blast-Ended Skrewts. Nasty little buggers that looked like shell-less deformed lobsters and had dangerously sparking tails. Trying to set a good example, the trio were persuaded to try and feed the disagreeable...whatever it is that they were...but all attempts were fruitless. The miserable creatures didn't seem to have mouths and were decidedly more content to attempt to sting whatever students were in reach. The fact that they reeked of the smell of rotten fish didn't help Harry's stomach settle any more and he was not exactly looking forward to lunch when he, Ron and Hermione trudged back up the hill towards the Great Hall.

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Harry knew he shouldn't be laughing.

Sirius was scolding him (as well as he was able to anyway, under the circumstances) and he had every right to do so, but Harry still thought that the whole thing was just so bloody hysterical that he couldn't help himself. But, bent precariously over the back of the sofa in Sirius' sitting room, with the comfortable future of his backside in immediate jeopardy, one would have thought he would have been able to control himself a little better.

It had all been completely unintentional.

After a quick late lunch, very quick in Hermione's case as she just shoved some food in at a faster-than-Ron pace and charged off to the library, Ron and Harry made the dismal ascent to their afternoon Divination class. As usual, Professor Trelawney tried very hard to assure the entire classroom that Harry was, indeed, in _grave danger_.

"Blimey, mate. You should be a walking corpse by now from what that nutter says," grumbled Ron to his friend's amusement as they beat a hasty retreat after the lesson concluded. Harry rolled his eyes. For whatever reason Sybil Trelawney had decided that his life should be forever hanging in the balance.

"What was she talking about today? 'Beware of foul fowl?' What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry griped as they plodded down the large staircase.

Walking to Gryffindor tower to relieve themselves of their books and bags, they saw Sirius hurrying down the corridor towards the Astronomy tower. Behind him, a large gaggle of infatuated seventh year girls swarmed in his wake, desperately vying for his attention. The pained look on his face made it clear that, while as a seventh year boy Sirius Black would have happily grown extra arms to accommodate all the pretty young witches trying to throw themselves at him, the thirty-five year old professor and parent felt a little unnerved by all of the unwanted attention.

Moving as briskly as he could without being outright rude, Sirius was almost comical in the speed in which he was accelerating towards them. Harry and Ron stopped to watch the spectacle unfold in front of them, a fit of the giggles only being completely suppressed by the merciless glare in the man's eyes that threatened bad things to those who mocked his predicament.

The light mood was ruined by Malfoy who shoved a copy of the Daily Prophet under Ron's nose. A less than flattering photo of Ron's parents taken in front of the Burrow was on the front page and it was inspiring Malfoy to make rude comments regarding Molly's larger than average girth. A verbal battle of insults began, culminating in Ron charging towards Malfoy, murder on his mind.

As the larger Gryffindor plowed menacingly towards the small blond Slytherin, he was thwarted by Harry attempting and succeeding in pulling him back. Enraged, Draco drew his wand and shot a hot searing hex at Ron's head, missing him by a fraction of an inch. Hissing, Harry grabbed his wand and cast a spell to transfigure Malfoy into a little pink bunny. A favorite new trick of his that he had learned over the summer during his extra lessons.

No one saw Alastor Moody enter the fray casting a spell of his own to transfigure Malfoy into a white ferret. No one saw Sirius either, as he flung himself in the middle of the spells in an effort to deflect anything from hitting Harry. Sirius was able to deflect the ferret hex easily, but he wasn't quick enough to dodge Harry's at the same time. With a _poof!, _where before his tall dark haired godfather had stood, now sat a little pink rabbit that Harry would swear was glaring at him. Can bunnies _glare_? was the first thought that came to the boy's mind.

He gulped audibly at the colossal mistake he had made, compounded even more by the fact that the gaggle of seventh year girls were cooing over the cute little pink ball of fluff even more than they were when it had been Professor Black. Raising his wand again, Harry attempted to re-transfigure the bunny back into his godfather.

Fate was not kind to him today. As Moody was yanking Malferret up and down like a yo-yo, much to the amusement of Ron and several other bystanders, Harry's attempt to rectify his own transfiguration gone wrong ended up changing the pink bunny into a half pink/half blue rooster that was now squawking extremely angrily. The entire courtyard burst out laughing at both sights and Harry found himself unable to keep a straight face. Especially as Moody had now dropped Malferret down the front of Goyle's pants and Sirooster was clucking like crazy.

The semi-timely arrival of Professor McGonagall didn't promise anything good for anyone involved. She was easily able to restore Draco to his blond pompous self, albeit with a heavy detention from Moody for his cowardice in hexing someone with their back turned. Unfortunately for Sirooster, Harry's spells had gone horribly wrong and Minerva was only able to restore most of him. He was human again, but he had a large pink and blue rooster crown affixed to the top of his head and every other word seemed to come out as a squawk. He wasn't comforted by the Transfiguration professor's strong assurances that he would be back to his regular self in an hour or so when the spell wore off.

Sirius, having gone scarily quiet, sauntered dangerously over to where his godson was trying desperately to control his giggling. He did not say a word as he grabbed Harry, none too gently, by the scruff of his neck. Seeing his mate's godfather in a mood as black as his name, Ron croaked out a promise to Harry to take his things back to the dorm, watching in horror as his friend was forcibly marched by the irate man in the direction of the Astronomy tower.

********************

Sirius should have just kept his mouth shut. Harry was already fearing whatever his godfather had in mind for him as they stalked towards the tower. Unfortunately, Sirius had decided to start the lecture on the dangers of randomly casting spells without knowing what the outcomes would be.

Holding firmly to the boy's neck as he marched him forward, Sirius' voice was dripping with fury. "Do you know **SQUAWK!** what could have **SQUAWK!** happened if you had **SQUAWK**!.."

He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself. Harry was biting down on his cheek to keep from laughing. It didn't take a genius to figure out that laughing at his godfather's predicament would only bode worse for himself.

"It is incredibly **SQUAWK!** dangerous to cast a** SQUAWK!** spell if you **SQUAAAAAWK**!..."

It was too much. Harry burst out laughing and could not stop even as he was prodded up the stairs to their quarters. Sirius threw the door open and pulled the hysterically laughing boy in behind him, slamming the oak panel shut with a loud bang.

Sirius was livid with his godson. The giggling little bugger couldn't even stop his fit long enough to look remorseful. "Young man, if you **SQUAWK!** find this so **SQUAWK!** amusing, I'm sure I can **SQUAWWWWK!** figure out a way to **SQUAWK!** sober you up **SQUAWWWWWK**!"

Harry was practically on the floor by this point. Patience gone, Sirius decided that a few smacks on laughing boy's backside would work wonders on improving his contrite disposition. He took Harry by the arm and resolutely bent him over the back of the sofa. Even knowing what was coming couldn't get Harry to control his hysterics. Grabbing the throw pillow on the seat in front of him to hold onto, he had come to the decision that a sore bum was absolutely worth the price for watching his godrooster in action.

He mentally steeled himself for the punishing sting as he sensed his godfather bringing down his arm but, to his surprise, he felt just a light swish of air. Turning around, he saw that Sirius' smacking arm had turned into a pink and blue feathered wing, most likely in mid swing. Harry collapsed in a fit of laughter so intense he wasn't even making sound anymore, tears streaming down his face in merriment. Sirius hauled him back to his feet and wordlessly pointed (with his good hand) to Harry's room. Not wanting to push his godfather, Harry collected himself enough to obey the silent command, wiping tears from his cheeks as he went. Sirius sat down at the small table, scowling viciously, to wait for the miscast spell to end.

*************************

An hour later, all of Sirius' rooster parts had vanished and, upon trying his speaking voice, found that he no longer squawked. He stood up and calmly walked over to the little monster's bedroom door. He knocked once and then entered.

Harry had come to his senses fairly early into his banishment. Sirius had been trying to protect him and Harry, acting rashly, had only made the situation worse. He was now properly in fear of his godfather's wrath. So, when Sirius walked in, he gave the man his best sad look. Sirius saw him sitting meekly on his bed, big green eyes looking pleadingly at him. "I'm _really_ sorry, Sirius," the boy apologized earnestly.

Sirius let out a large huff. "I'll bet you are." He walked over to the bed and sat down next to Harry who visibly tensed. "_You_ are going to be punished, young man," he said sternly as he forced Harry to look him in the eye. "Randomly casting transfiguration spells is nothing to mess around with. Someone could be terribly hurt or even killed by reckless spell casting."

Harry dropped his eyes to the floor, finding great interest in the pattern of the throw rug to the side of his bed. "Yes, sir," he whispered very quietly. He did feel bad. Not only had he mucked up the spells, but it had been embarrassing for his godfather and then, to top it all off, he couldn't stop laughing about it. He waited tensely for Sirius to justifiably pull him over his lap and finish what he had tried to start, but his godfather got up again.

"I want six feet of parchment outlining the dangers of using Transfiguration by Monday," he ordered sternly. Harry looked up and blinked rapidly, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "I did not teach you this summer to use those spells in a childish school fight. You have to be smarter and more careful than this, Harry James."

Harry felt his cheeks and neck burn like fire from the scolding. Now he felt really miserable. He would have preferred getting a smacking over having to receive the sharp rebuke. With his head hanging down low in shame, he couldn't see that Sirius' face had dissolved into a more gentle visage. Looking down at his contrite godson, Sirius could tell that the message had sunk in.

There was no need to go any further and Sirius felt relieved that he had been forced to rein in his plan to dole out a few smacks. It was a punishment to be used sparingly and, after all, it was only the first day of classes. He didn't want Harry to regret wanting him here at school already. The long essay would certainly be more effective in teaching Harry what he had done wrong today.

"Come along now. It's time for dinner and I want to hear about how the rest of your first day back was," he said very kindly. Harry lifted his head back up and saw his godfather smiling sincerely at him. It made him feel both warm with affection and guilty for acting like a prat. Deciding to focus on the positive, he got to his feet and followed Sirius to the table for their first 'family dinner' at Hogwarts.

*********************************

Harry was scraping the bowl that had contained his favorite rhubarb crumble and his godfather poured him another glass of milk. Dinner conversation had been light and casual. In between bites of roast chicken and potatoes, Sirius had shared with him the surprising news that he actually had enjoyed teaching. Harry didn't come out and say it, but from his summer lessons, he could see that his godfather was a natural in education. Harry couldn't wait for his own class the next day to see what it was that put such a large smile on his godfather's face.

Harry had lightly broached the topic of the Blacks that Hermione shared with him that morning, including the rumors of hidden dark objects in the tower. Sirius frowned for a minute and then lightened up just as quickly.

"I don't know if the rumors are true or not, actually. When I arrived here on the first night and was sorted into Gryffindor, my parents stopped speaking to me, more or less. They never told me about any hidden objects."

Harry, feeling badly for the way his godfather's family had treated him, gave him a small sympathetic smile. After all, Harry had plenty of personal experience with disapproving relatives.

"I'll tell you what though," he said suddenly in a fit of inspiration, "if you want a way to earn your allowance here, you could help me tidy up all the small rooms around the tower. They're absolutely disgraceful!" He winked mischievously at the boy. "Of course, you don't have to. I'll buy you whatever you need and maybe even a few of the things you can't possibly live without," he smirked slightly, "whether or not you want to take on chores. I'd understand if you just want to concentrate on school work."

Harry's face lit up enthusiastically. He thought it would be brilliant to get to go hunting through old Hogwarts treasures. "No, I would really like that," he effused. "You don't have to pay me though." Then inspiration hit. "Could I ask Ron too? You could give him my allowance instead." Ron had been muttering unhappily about not being able to get Hermione a proper present for her birthday that was coming up in a few weeks. Maybe, if Sirius agreed to this, Ron could earn the money and not feel like it was charity. He was very proud, after all.

Sirius looked at his godson with incredible fondness. Harry had such a big heart and he was a fiercely devoted friend. Sirius' chest swelled in pride. "Of course you can," he agreed. "And I'll be happy to pay both of you. It's going to be quite a big job." Harry beamed at his godfather's continued understanding and generosity. Sirius glanced at the clock over the mantle and sighed resignedly.

"It's getting late. You better get back to the dorm. I'm sure you have homework already." Harry nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir. I have to do a chart for Divination." He stood up and went into his room to collect his robe. Coming back out and heading towards the door, he leaned into Sirius' offered embrace.

"See you tomorrow, _Professor_," he said cheekily. Sirius just smirked and kissed the top of his head. "Just behave yourself. I don't want to have to give you detention," he teased. Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you never had any as a student," he huffed sarcastically. Sirius feigned an innocent expression as he watched Harry start down the winding stairs. "I have no idea what you are talking about." Harry snorted and gave him a backhanded wave as he ran down the rest of the way.

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Ron was waiting up for him as he climbed into the portrait hole and entered the common room. "Alright, Harry?" he asked worriedly. Harry nodded easily as he flopped down on the couch next to his mate.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief. All evening he had been feeling guilty about being responsible _again _for getting Harry into trouble. "Harry immediately calmed his fears. "He's making me write six feet on why transfiguration can be dangerous." Seeing Ron start to tense again, he hurried to reassure him. "He wasn't mad about the fighting. I just have to do the essay because I mucked when I used the spells. He's right. I really messed them up. He was pretty mad about the laughing, though," he admitted with a grin. "I almost really caught it for that," he smirked, remembering the feathered wing.

After a moment, Ron collapsed into a fit of laughter. Catching Harry's confused look, he explained between breaths. "Beware of foul fowl, Harry!" It took Harry a moment to catch on, but when he finally did, he burst out laughing as well.

Ignoring the stares of the other students, the two mates fell against each other in uncontrollable merriment for several minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thanks as always for the reviews! Hope you are in the mood for a little angst today.

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_Evil, greasy haired, toadstool loving, black robed wearing, long nosed, dungeon dwelling, bat-like _git_._

Ron and Hermione stayed carefully far behind Harry as he stomped to the Great Hall for lunch, muttering under his breath with a vehemence that neither of them had ever seen before. After all, it was not as if it was the first time that Harry had ever been given detention by Snape. It wasn't even close to being the first time that he had been given detention for something completely ridiculous, either.

So why was he fuming so badly this time?

Harry pounded forth towards the dining hall so thoroughly enraged, he thought his head might explode from the pressure of mentally restraining himself from returning to the dungeon and beating Snape about his greasy head with one of his precious cauldrons.

After all they had been through this past summer, he had really thought, well _hoped _actually, that he and Snape may have found a common ground to proceed further on with each other without all the bitterness and snide attitudes of the past. Sure, it had been difficult at first, they really did dislike each other after all but, at the end, Snape seemed to have finally noticed that Harry was putting his best effort forth with the lessons and the snarky potions master had even grudgingly praised him on the odd occasion.

To the overwhelming surprise of both Harry and Sirius, Snape had even deigned to join them for lunch after Harry's last lesson of the summer. Of course, it had not been the most comfortable of meals for any of them, but progress was still progress, right?

_**********_

_As usual, Harry was mentally drained by the time the Occlumency lesson had ended. He was getting quite good at pushing Snape away and had even started to construct his own mental defenses that warded off the Legilimens before he had even had a chance to try and invade. It was still quite tiring but, seeing the pleased look on his godfather's face and the tolerating one on Snape's, Harry considered it a job well done._

_Panting heavily, albeit a bit less than the last time, Harry sat in his chair in the library watching Snape gather his written materials together before he made his usual hasty exit. The last couple of lessons had included Harry studying Snape's careful notes outlining defenses. It was the last time they would meet as Harry would be on the train to Hogwarts in a few short days._

_"That was not as bad as it could have been, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled in his usual sneering tone. Harry smirked. He was getting better at reading the compliment underneath the man's snarl._

_"Thank you, Professor. I do feel better about it myself." His tone was slightly smug. He was trying to take to the mickey out of Snape while entertaining Sirius who, as always, watched the lesson from his enchanted wall in the study. Harry couldn't see it, but he guessed correctly when Sirius let out a laughing bark in the next room._

_Snape turned to him with an indefinable look and Harry could almost swear that he had glimpsed the barest beginnings of a smile before it vanished from the man's mouth. Feeling invigorated from his success and just a bit giddy about the prospect of school starting again, Harry summoned up his courage to once more extend the invitation._

_"Professor? Since it's our last lesson for the holiday, would you reconsider our invitation to join us for lunch today?" he asked as earnestly as he could._

_Snape stared at him for what seemed like eternity, studying every line on his face, every muscle in his mouth, every movement of his green eyes. Finally, after the world's longest pregnant pause, the man nodded quite curtly, shocking Harry in the library and almost horrifying Sirius in the study._

_When Sirius had recovered his senses enough to meet them outside the library, he repeated Harry's invitation and, to his surprise, Snape didn't take the opportunity to opt out. Ever the gracious host, he led them into the dining room._

_The formal dining table at Celestial Court was long enough to seat twenty two people. Normally, these arrangements didn't present a problem in the household. Sirius sat at the end of one side, Harry always to his immediate right. With a guest as sensitive to ettiquette as Sirius expected Snape to be, the potions master should be seated in a place of honor at the other end. However, because of the sheer size, it would be rude to put him so far away. So, with flick and a swish of his wand, Sirius shortened the table so that it seated only four and Severus was given a place at the head that didn't appear to be a snub of banishment._

_What followed was a painful thirty minute session of polite conversation and one word answers. After ascertaining that Snape like three lumps of sugar in his tea, had a small house outside of Hogwarts where he spent his summers, did not have any family to speak of and did not care to vacation at the beach, the tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife._

_Snape spoke briefly of the struggle he had in choosing a career after school. "Death Eater?" Sirius suggested helpfully. "Potions," Snape sneered back._

_Sirius talked about where he had wanted to move to after finishing Auror training. "Azkaban?" Snape inputted. "Derbyshire," Sirius glowered._

_Then Harry asked Snape what he did for his previous vacation. "Bath," Snape stated. "Bubble?" Sirius inquired. "City," Snape spat._

_Trying desperately to bring up something neutral, Harry mentioned that they were having trouble with pests in their garden. "Fleas?" Snape simpered. "Moles," Sirius growled._

_The two men sat quietly for a few more mintues. Neither one of them really paying attention to the boy banging his head softly against the table._

_After small dishes of fruit sorbet, Snape expressed appreciation for the invitation, which he really didn't feel, Sirius extended another one for the future, which he really didn't mean and Harry went upstairs with a headache that he really did have._

_However, before Snape had left, there was a sincere flicker in his eyes as he repeated his approval of Harry's progress over the summer and told him to be sure and keep practicing._

_*******************************_

So why exactly had Snape acted like such a complete prat during his first class back?

For the first time, Harry had felt really good about the potion he had brewed. All of his tutoring over the summer had taught him patience and attention to detail as well as honing a technique when handling ingredients. Well before the class period had ended, his cauldron was bubbling merrily with a liquid that had the right consistency and the proper shade of puce.

So when Neville's cauldron started to smoke ominously, Harry had rushed over to try and help salvage the brew. What occurred after that though was completely unfair.

Snape had billowed over to where the two boys were working feverishly to minimize the damage only to have the git potions master banish the entire mess with a lazy flick.

"Longbottom, you will certainly kill us all one day. Fifty points from Gryffindor for putting our lives in jeopardy. Potter, for being an insufferable little cheat trying to let Longbottom pass off his work as yours, you have detention with me, Tuesday night at seven o'clock," he seethed.

As he stomped back to the front of the room, the sleeve of his robe "accidentally" caught on Harry's cauldron spilling its contents everywhere. Glaring at the boy, he banished the contents of Harry's cauldron as he had Neville's.

"Mr. Potter. Nothing to present today, then? Pity. Zero for today's work." Then he turned his back and left the room.

_*********************************_

Harry was so angry with the over-sized bat he couldn't even think straight. He had really hoped that this year would be different. Apparently, he was wrong.

He didn't taste the food he had at lunch. He was too upset over what his godfather would say when he had to tell him that he had gotten detention already. Harry's track record was not looking good right now.

Fighting in the halls, spells horribly gone wrong, a crippling essay, a near smacking for insolence, a zero in Potions and now detention. It was only the second day for Merlin's sake!

If this kept up, surely his godfather would drag him home by the ear and ground him until he turned of age, while teaching him at home for the next four years. Assuming, of course, that his backside sufficiently healed enough to allow him to ever again sit at the table in the library at Celestial Court!

It was no wonder that he unwillingly dragged himself to the first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that had all of the other students buzzing with excitement.

******************************

_Constant Vigilance_!

That was the harsh echo that was reverberating through Harry's mind as he and his friends made their way down the stairs from DADA class. He was trying very hard not to show it, but Moody's little impromptu demonstration of the Unforgivables had affected Harry more than he would have liked.

Keeping a neutral look on his face, he didn't say anything as Hermione fretted over Neville who had gone absolutely pale during the example of the Cruciatus. Harry watched in horror as his roommate whimpered and shuddered while the poor hapless spider writhed in agony in front of him. For some reason, the normally affable Gryffindor boy seemed to be affected more than most during the show of pain.

Harry didn't notice the other students around him milling about as they walked to their next class. His ears were buzzing with static as he kept his head down and strode determinedly through the corridors. His thoughts kept returning him unwillingly to the lifeless spider, rendered as such by the harsh green glow of the killing curse.

Was that how it had been for his parents? Did they suddenly just drop in place without preamble? Just stillness and quiet without fight or movement? It didn't seem right somehow. Surely there should be more acknowledgement when a life was taken unwillingly.

It seemed _wrong_.

He hitched his book-bag further up his shoulder as he plowed ahead with his face determinedly watching the ground in front of him. He was only half aware of Ron making excited conversation about the upcoming Astronomy lesson. As much as Harry wanted to be enthused to see Sirius teach an entire class as opposed to just himself, he was too focused on what had just happened. The flashes of images and sounds brought on by the presence of the Dementors were the only memories he had of his parents' deaths. He found himself needing, more than ever, a better idea of what had happened that night.

*****************************************************

On any other day, Harry would have been overwhelmingly impressed with what Sirius had done for his classroom. Astronomy was a class usually done on paper and in theory when it was held during the day. Stacks of maps of constellations to be studied, massive textbooks to be referenced, dry boring practical instruction.

Not anymore, it would seem. The classroom had been transformed into the universe. Well, part of it anyway. The part they would be studying today. Instead of sitting at their wooden desks listening to the professor drone on and on about this planet and that pathway, Professor Black submerged them into a virtual world that they were allowed to explore as they wandered about the room, interacting with the galaxy they were expected to become familiar with.

Sirius' voice was confident and authoritative as he instructed them with impressive knowledge and reverence for the topic. Harry couldn't help but be surprised by the enthusiasm his godfather had for the subject. It was obvious that he was thoroughly enjoying sharing his passion for the subject with students who were happily taking in everything he had to say.

On any other day, Harry would have stood, in rapt attention, both enthralled by the subject matter and jubilant over his godfather's happiness. Unfortunately, today was not any other day. Try as he might, he could not get the DADA demonstration out of his head and it led him to just wander aimlessly around the brilliantly charmed classroom with disinterest and apathy. Even as his friends nudged him, trying to get him to pay attention, he just ignored them and kept to his own thoughts.

Something that did not go unnoticed by the new professor.

When the rest of the class was dismissed for the day, Harry was slowly packing up his bag when he heard the terse voice of his godfather addressing him.

"Mr. Potter, stay after class please."

Ron and Hermione threw him sympathetic looks as he groaned in realization that his new professor was, quite probably, suitably miffed with him.

Yanking the fastenings on his bag shut, he watched his mates walk slowly out of the room, almost fearful of leaving him behind. He gave them an encouraging nod to assure them that he would be fine and they reluctantly left for the dorms. Sighing, he turned and slowly made his way to where Sirius stood waiting for him, a frown on his normally handsome face.

Keeping his gaze down to the floor, Harry stood in front of the displeased man, knowing that he was about to get a telling off for his lack of participation in class.

_Great, just great. Exactly what I needed after everything else._

"Did my lecture bore you today, Mr. Potter?" Sirius demanded in the tone of an affronted professor.

Harry winced from the rebuke. "No, sir," he whispered, feeling extremely badly for disappointing his godfather who had probably been trying very hard to make Harry's first Astronomy lesson with him special.

Immediately, affronted professor turned into concerned godfather. He knew that tone in his child's voice. Something was very wrong with Harry. Walking over to the small hunched figure, Sirius put out a hand and cupped Harry's chin, gently lifting the miserable face up. Harry's eyes were dead looking. He was obviously very pained about something.

"What's the matter, little one? What happened?" he asked, worry evident in his voice.

Harry lowered his gaze back down to the floor. He didn't know how to explain what he was feeling to Sirius. He didn't understand it himself. So, he settled on telling him what had happened in Moody's class instead.

Sirius reeled from the information. He was having a very hard time wrapping his head around the idea that Alastor would find it appropriate to do a demonstration of the Unforgivables to a group of fourth years. Especially considering that this particular class held his godson and Neville, the two children most horribly affected by the vile curses in the school. What on earth was he thinking?

No wonder Harry was walking around like a zombie. It was extremely cruel to show him, in graphic detail, just exactly how James and Lily met their ends. Inwardly seething, he vowed to have a heated conversation with his former mentor. While it had been rumored that Alastor had lost a fair bit of grip on reality, Sirius planned to bring the man crashing back down to Earth for the pain he had inflicted on his child today.

But first, he had to see to Harry.

He put a comforting arm around the boy and led him downstairs to his quarters. It was almost dinner time anyway and he didn't want Harry to go off by himself to sit and stew. Harry didn't object. Wordlessly, he allowed his godfather to steer him, first to the living area, then to the dining table.

Harry barely spoke, he didn't really eat and only half heartedly responded to his godfather's attempts to comfort him. Every few minutes he shot furtive looks towards his room in Sirius' quarters and, eventually, his godfather insisted that he stay for the night.

Harry didn't resist. He wanted to stay. He felt a need to be close to Sirius tonight. He needed to be close to the one person who might have some understanding of the pain that he was feeling right now. He didn't protest when Sirius sent him to bed right after the failed meal and he held onto the man longer than usual when receiving his bedtime hug. He didn't care that at his age he shouldn't be feeling so needy. As a small boy, he had never allowed himself to feel so grief stricken over his parents' demise.

Sirius, for his part, was sick with worry. He didn't know what to do to help Harry through this. The boy looked so tired, so he had insisted on him going right to bed. Scribbling a note to Ron letting him know that Harry wouldn't be returning to the dorm tonight, he charmed the parchment into a small bird and it took flight whizzing its way towards Gryffindor tower.

Keeping one ear open, he agitatedly settled himself on the sofa, not really reading the book he had in his hands.

*********************************

The visions were assaulting his mind brutally.

_Daddy was bouncing him on his lap. They both had rings of smeared chocolate around their mouths. A product, no doubt, of the rapidly diminishing pumpkin shaped bowl of chocolate frogs. Mummy was standing next to them, her green eyes full of laughter as she snapped photo after photo of them._

_"Say 'trick or treat' Harry!" Snap, snap, snap._

_Every few bounces, Daddy would dip his leg down really far and send Harry flying for just a second, his little giggles pealing merrily through the room._

_Then the door exploded, sending splinters of wood in every direction. A thick black fog-like cloud rushed towards them and scared the baby. Harry began to cry._

_"It's him, Lily! Take Harry and run!" Daddy yelled._

_Mummy pulled him out of Daddy's arms and ran up the staircase. Harry looked back over her shoulder. Daddy wasn't coming with them. Why wasn't Daddy coming too? Frantically he reached out his arms crying for his daddy, his little face buried in Mummy's neck, her familiar floral scent not comforting him as it usually did. As they reached the top of the stairs, he heard yelling and saw a flash of green light. Where was Daddy?_

_Mummy carried him into his room and slammed the door closed. He grabbed her neck tighter, wailing for his daddy. Another explosion. Another door in pieces._

_"Stand aside, silly girl!" A deep voice. A bad voice. Scary red eyes on a man in a black robe._

_Mummy was crying now too. "Not Harry, please not Harry. Kill me instead."_

_The bad man yelled again. Another green flash and he and Mummy fell to the floor. His head hurt now, really bad. He cried harder. He wanted Mummy to pick him back up but she was on the floor and she wasn't looking at him, she was looking at the ceiling._

_"Mummy!"_

_"Mummyyyyyy!" he cried over and over and over....._

****

"Mummyyyy!" the fourteen year old Harry screamed repeatedly as he shot up in his bed and cried hysterically. He couldn't snap himself out of the nightmare scene of his demolished nursery room in the cottage in Godric's Hollow. Any minute now Mummy would sit up and take him into her arms, soothing him with her soft voice. Any minute now Daddy would come crashing through the shattered door and take both of them into his strong embrace and make them feel safe again. Any minute now.

In his haze, he could finally feel a set of strong arms around him, rocking him gently and shushing him. Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the embrace. It was his Daddy. Finally Daddy had come upstairs after them. He would make it all better now.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here."

The voice. That wasn't his Daddy's voice. He knew that voice. It was comforting and familiar, but it wasn't Daddy. After a moment, he willed himself to open his eyes. In the soft moonlight, he could barely see who it was that was holding him, but the shoulder length curly black hair didn't belong to his Daddy.

"Sirius?" he asked in a strangled voice.

"I'm here, Harry. You're okay," his godfather soothed as he held him tight.

Then it all came back to him. His parents were gone. They were murdered and they were never coming back. Ever. Gripping his godfather tighter than he ever thought he could, he screamed and raged and then shook with deep guttural sobs as he finally allowed himself to fully grieve his dead parents. All the memories he had kept pent up inside, all the dreams of someday having them show up, telling him that they were back, all the fantasies of him rescuing them from death. Gone. He sobbed as his heart shattered into a million pieces, his entire body racked with misery. With his godfather providing the firm embrace of a lifeline, he released all of his emotions and finally let his parents go.

_**********************************_

Sirius was sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, his back pressed against the headboard, his legs crossed and stretched out in front of him. His godson, significantly calmer but still emitting the occasional sniffle or hiccup was snuggled against his chest, his thin arm snaked across Sirius' stomach, the hand firmly grasping his godfather's shirt. Sirius had both arms tightly encircling the boy's small frame. He needed Harry to know that he was safe, that Sirius was alive and well, and that his godfather would always love him and protect him.

He was having a hard time getting Harry back to sleep and Sirius really couldn't blame the boy. If he had been forced to relive the worst moment of his life in a nightmare so realistically vivid that he could barely be released from it, he wouldn't have wanted to go back to sleep either. As he gently rubbed Harry's back in the most soothing way he could think of, he sat and inwardly seethed.

Alastor had a lot to answer for, and Sirius was going to make sure that he did just that.

"Sirius?" Harry whispered, his voice scratchy from crying.

"Yes?" Sirius shifted a bit and held the boy tighter.

"Did..did my parents regret having me?" Harry asked in a very small frightened voice.

Sirius took a sharp intake of breath. He looked down at Harry in horror and saw real fear in the watery red rimmed emerald eyes that stared up at him pleadingly.

"Why, Harry? Why would you even ask such a question?" Truly, Sirius was gobsmacked by the inquiry. Why on earth would his godson even think of such a thing? He felt Harry fidget a little in his embrace nervously. The boy lowered his head back down and burrowed it into Sirius' chest.

"I ruined their lives," Harry said quietly. "You always talk about how happy they were here at school and then after they left, before the war. If I hadn't been born, they wouldn't have had to go into hiding," he said miserably. A small sob escaped from his small chest and pushed against his godfather's ribs. "If I hadn't been born, they would still be alive."

Sirius was drowning. The despair was rolling off of his godson in waves and he didn't know if anything he could do or say would be enough to convince the boy that he had been everything to James and Lily. Desperately, like a man clinging to a life preserver, he grabbed Harry even tighter into his arms and pressed his face into the messy black mop of hair.

"Your parents loved you, Harry James. Every minute of every day that they had you. They never regretted a single second that they got to have with you. Honestly, I don't think that they were ever really truly alive _until _they had you. You were everything to them, little one. When Albus told them that the time had come for them to go into hiding, they went for _you_. They didn't care about themselves."

He felt Harry shudder at the thought. _I'm phrasing this all wrong,_ he though angrily to himself. Clearing his throat, he tried again.

"Your parents were two of the bravest people I ever met. They would have willingly marched to their own deaths long before they were killed if it hadn't been for you. If anything, you kept them alive longer than they probably would have been."

Harry jerked his head up, his eyes wide with surprise. "What..what are you talking about, Sirius?" he stammered in shock.

Sirius frowned. Surely Harry knew the reason why he was chosen as a target? "Harry, your parents had already fought Voldemort off three separate times. They were marked high on his list of enemies. He wanted them dead more than most on the side of light. They were an offense to him. A prominent blood traitor and his Muggle born wife? Their deaths would be a badge of honor for him, a strong warning to other wizarding families to not take him lightly. It was only when your mum got pregnant and they went into hiding to protect you that he couldn't kill them as quickly as he wanted to."

He felt Harry shaking with realization. This conversation was getting too dark and too deep. He needed to soothe his godson, not make him more upset. Wildly, he racked his brain for a way out of this. He lowered his head and kissed the top of the black hair still pressed against him.

"Your parents loved every minute they spent with you in Godric's Hollow," he began, hopefully. Disregarding his own bleeding heart, he forced his voice into as calming a tone as he could and proceeded to spend the next hour telling Harry all manner of silly little stories about James and Lily experiencing the joys of parenthood. He vowed that Harry would have more happy memories than bad ones of the last few months of his parents' lives.

Harry laughed as Sirius told him all the names that Lily called James during labor, he cringed when he heard about Lily hiding James' broom until he agreed to change a particularly foul nappy, he smirked about Lily threatening a then nine month old Harry with nothing but mashed carrots if he didn't stop throwing his food in her hair.

"Why carrots?" Harry asked. Sirius barked out a laugh.

"Because she didn't have time to wash her hair six times a day and at least the carrots wouldn't show as badly as the strained peas you couldn't get enough of," he informed the snickering boy.

He told Harry about the little family's first Christmas together when James had bought his six month old son a complete set of professional Quidditch balls. Harry fell into a fit of the giggles as his godfather described how his mother had chased his father around the house, scolding that Harry would choke on the little golden snitch.

"She didn't really have a sense of humor about your father's Quidditch obsession," he sagely informed the boy.

Sirius' voice grew soft and melancholy as he told Harry about how Lily would play peek-a-boo with her year old son for hours. How baby Harry would cover his eyes with his chubby little hands and bury his face in the pillows on the couch, certain that if he couldn't see his Mummy, then Mummy couldn't see him either. He talked about how Harry refused to cut his teeth on anything but the sleeve of his father's robes, no matter how many times Lily tried to give him frozen rubber rings. How one look from his mother's matching green eyes would put an end to the start of any tantrum. How Harry wouldn't let anyone but his father put him to sleep.

Harry poked his head back up from his godfather's chest. "Why? Why Dad and not Mum?"

Sirius snorted and brushed stray hair from the boy's forehead. "Well, although your mum vehemently denied it, your dad and I always thought it was because he sang you to sleep."

Harry looked up at him, a surprised and confused look on his tired face. "Why wouldn't Mum sing to me, then?" he asked innocently, watching his godfather's face contort into a mischievous grin.

"Oh, she tried singing to you, but it didn't seem to have the same effect." He paused. "When your dad sang, he....he had an interesting song for the task. You loved it. Never failed to put you right out. Of course, considering what it was, your mum was positively livid about the whole thing. She tried to stop your dad, at first. But a week of a screaming tired baby finally convinced her to let you and your dad have your way."

Harry was positively intrigued now. Cocking his head to the side, he raised his eyebrows and looked inquisitively at his godfather.

"What was wrong with the song? Why did she get so mad?" he asked with a small smile.

Sirius thought for a moment, his eyes flashing with mirth. _Why not_? he thought. Harry could use a good laugh.

"Your father sang an Irish drinking song to put you to bed at night. Your mum was less than amused at the idea of her baby boy being sung to sleep with the same song that was wailed off tune down the pub," he said with a laugh.

It worked. Harry leaned against Sirius' shoulder, snorting for all he was worth.

"Why did he pick that song? Didn't he know any others?" Harry finally asked when he had gotten himself under control.

Sirius ran his fingers through the back of Harry's hair, debating for a moment whether or not to tell him the whole story. It was amusing, but it was so painful to remember these things. Some of the memories were still too raw for the man to deal with them easily but Harry was waiting for an answer. Collecting himself, he decided that his godson's peace of mind was more important than his bleeding heart.

"It was special to him. Right after your parents got married, they had a very big fight. James was still a bit immature and, frankly, we didn't help matters any. He was the only one of us to ever get married. We were still very young, you have to understand." He paused as Harry shifted a little, trying to get comfortable again leaning against his godfather. "He was spending a bit too much time out carousing with us boys for your mum's liking. She had a point. They were married now and sometimes James still acted like a young boy."

He could hear Harry snort at that image. After hearing many stories about James as a teenager from Sirius, it was easy for Harry to believe that his father would still act immature.

"One night we wanted to take him out to the pub. They had been having words about it. James was going to give in and stay home but your mum had had it. She was already pregnant and her mood swings were crazy. She tossed him out and told him not to come back until he could prove that he loved her more than he loved us." Harry didn't see the wistful smile on his godfather's face.

"James was miserable all night. We all got completely piss drunk and then got the great idea that he should stagger home and serenade her. So...that's what he did. He sang her one of his favorite songs that he had always told us reminded him of her and, even though he sang drunkenly and off key, she was touched enough to let him back in the house. Once you were born, he would sing it to you at night. I asked him once why he did it and he told me it was to remind him of how lucky he was to have a wife and child that he loved more than life itself. How close he might have come to throwing it all way."

They were both quiet for a while. Finally, Sirius felt Harry burrow his face into his chest and whisper to him. "I wish I could remember it," he said sadly.

Sirius sighed, the pain in his chest getting stronger as he fought to keep the memories at bay. It had been a long time since he allowed himself to think about these times. They were precious and he held on to them like treasure. He tightened his arms around the small frame of James' son, conscious of the way slumber was evading the boy. His mind whirled back to those days spent visiting Godric's Hollow.

How many times had he stood in the doorway of Harry's nursery as James rocked his baby boy to sleep? He closed his eyes and remembered picture perfect the look on his best friend's face as he gazed adoringly into the little green eyes. The way he carefully kept the hand knitted blue blanket wrapped securely around his child so he never felt the draft. The unabashed love in his voice as he crooned to the little person who had changed him in every way, from juvenile marauder to adoring responsible father.

Without realizing what he was doing, he found himself caught up in the past. Clearing his throat and gently rocking the boy who was no longer an infant, he began to sing softly.

_Come over the mountain, my bonnie Irish lass  
Come over the mountain to your darlin'  
You choose the rose love, and I'll make the vow  
And I'll be your true love forever._

In his reverie, he could hear Harry laugh softly, but it was a comfortable sound and it soothed both of them. His voice getting stronger, he continued.

_Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows  
Fair is the Lily of the Valley  
Clear is the water that flows unto the Boyne  
But my love is fairer than any_.

In his mind, Sirius saw so many happy images of his younger days with his friends. So many that he had been denied during his years of imprisonment, cursed by the Dementors that had surrounded him revelling in his state of loneliness and despair. Like a gift, they seemed to be returning to him tonight as he softly sang Harry to sleep.

_Down by the sea on a_ _cool summer evenin'  
With the moon rising high o'er the heather,  
The moon it shown fair on her head of reddened hair  
And she vowed she'd be my love forever._

Snuggled in his godfather's warm embrace, Harry felt his eyes grow heavy as his head pressed against Sirius' chest which was vibrating from soft melody he was singing. Subconsciously, the lilting notes and words were comforting and familiar to the boy and were lulling him into a peaceful state. The horror of his night terror was falling away from him, leaving him with only happy fuzzy images that he couldn't quite define.

_Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows  
Fair is the Lily of the Valley  
Clear is the water that flows unto the Boyne  
But my love is fairer than any._

Sirius could hear Harry's deep even breathing as the boy finally slept curled up against him. In his mind's eye, he could see them clearly now, James and Lily. His brother in all but blood, his carefree manner as he tousled his own ebony hair. Beautiful Lily with her mane of fire and flashing emerald eyes. His heart ached to see them again. They and Remus (he firmly pushed images of the rat out of his mind) had been his first true family. For them, he would march into Hell itself to keep Harry happy and safe. Tears flowing freely from his silvery eyes now, he bent his head down and buried it against the messy mop scrunched tightly against him, his voice cracking as he finished the tune.

_It is not for the loss of my own sister Kate,  
It is not for the grieving of my mother,  
It is all for the loss of my bonnie Irish lass  
That my heart is breaking forever._

Holding his precious boy as close to himself as he could, he pressed a kiss on top of the slumbering child's head.

_I'll take good care of him for you, James, Lily. I promise I'll love him enough for all three of us._


	5. Chapter 5

WOW, just WOW. Thanks for all of the reviews for the last chapter. It's always nice to get the take from my regular, loyal and much loved reviewers and it was great to see all the new ones!

In answer to some of your questions:

The lullaby is an actual drinking song called "Red is the Rose". It really is quite pretty to hear and does sound like it could be used as a lullaby. It just tickled my sense of humor that a marauder would use a drinking song to sing his son to sleep, lol.

There is going to be more to Snape's attitude than I've written so far.

jogger, I will happily feed your addiction as long as you want to stay hooked! You too, Iva!

Also, aimael, I'm fast, but I'm not that fast, lol.

WARNING: This chapter has some dark topics of violence. Please be advised.

Enjoy!

**************************

His eyes still closed in defense of the bright sunlight that was stubbornly streaming through the window, Harry swallowed thickly. His throat was raw and sore, no doubt as a result of his breakdown last night. Humiliated, he scrunched his eyes up further and tried to drive away the memories of just how emotional he had become. Surely Sirius thought he was ready for the nut hatch they way he acted.

He shifted slightly onto his side and felt himself press up against something warm. Cautiously peeking, he saw through his eyelashes the unmistakable form of his godfather lying next to him on top of the blanket that was firmly tucked around Harry. His face looked tired and drawn, his eyes closed peacefully. Harry wondered if he was asleep and, if he was, if he had been there all night. He lay there and stared at Sirius' face. There were lines across his forehead and a bit of graying on the sides of his hair. His skin was a bit slack from rapid weight loss, but lately it had been filling back in. Harry wondered if he would ever fully get back his careless look that he had in the old pictures he had seen, but everything was already a complete improvement from what it had been last spring.

Warm and comfortable under the blankets, still a bit bleary from sleep, the boy was content to just lay there and stare for a while. Sirius had taken care of him last night after the horrors of his nightmare. When his distraught state had threatened to tear him apart into a thousand pieces, his godfather had hugged him tight enough to keep his very soul together.

He couldn't think about it anymore. He couldn't go through it again. He burrowed his head a little more into the pillow, still staring at his godfather's placid face when he was surprised to see Sirius smile.

"Good morning," he greeted his godson, his eyes still closed. Harry frowned. He hadn't meant to wake him.

"Morning. Sorry I woke you," he mumbled quietly.

Sirius took a deep breath and turned slowly onto his side to face Harry as he opened his eyes. "You didn't wake me. I've been getting ready to get up for a bit now." He reached over and gently brushed the hair from Harry's forehead.

"You need a haircut," he observed absentmindedly. Harry wrinkled his nose. "Maybe." He knew it was true. His unruly black mop was getting a little more unruly than usual lately.

The two of them lay there staring at each other. Neither one of them knowing how to address the events of the night before. Harry was too ashamed of the way he had acted. He had screamed and cried for hours it seemed and his godfather had just held him and let him go at it. Now, his face flushed with embarrassment knowing that the only thing he wanted to do was to crawl back into the strong embrace that had made him feel so secure. Surely he was too old for that.

For his part, Sirius could see the dilemma in his godson's eyes and knew exactly what he was thinking. No matter how much he tried to shower Harry with affection, the boy still seemed hesitant to ask for it. He understood why. At his age, Harry should bristle against the idea of hugs from a parent, but Harry had thirteen years of deprivation to make up for. In Sirius' mind, that entitled the awkward teen to be behind the curve in the hug department. Besides, after all they both went through last night, Sirius wasn't above admitting that he could use some comfort himself.

Reaching out his long arms, he gathered the boy into his embrace and pulled him to his chest. He was relieved when he felt Harry immediately relax against him. Smiling, he pressed a small kiss against the top of the boy's head.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

Harry fidgeted a little, getting comfortable as he breathed in the soothing familiar scent of his godfather's aftershave.

"Alright, I suppose," he answered noncommittally.

He did feel better but, somehow, just a little more empty. Seeing what he did last night helped him finally come to terms with the deaths of his parents but, at the same time, it made his resolve to destroy the evil being that had taken them from him so cruelly that much stronger.

They didn't speak or even move for a few minutes. Finally, Harry shifted a bit more and broke the silence.

"Thanks," he whispered.

"For what?" Sirius asked, genuinely interested in what he might have done right.

"For everything," Harry answered simply. "For the stories, for listening." He paused, slightly smirking. "Even for the..._singing_," he teased.

"Hey!" Sirius cried with mock indignation. He reached around and playfully swatted Harry's bottom over the thick blanket. "Don't be cheeky. I'm just a little out of practice, that's all."

Harry snorted before becoming quiet again. "No, really. Thanks for that," he said in a small voice. He glanced up at his godfather's face and Sirius could tell from the earnest look in the vivid green eyes that Harry would probably not object to him doing it again sometime in the future. Sirius knew he would be happy to oblige.

Reluctantly, Sirius looked over at the clock on the small desk. Sighing resignedly, he stretched his legs out. "We both have classes soon. Do you want to go meet your friends in the Great Hall for breakfast?"

Harry groaned. He didn't really want to go anywhere or do anything today. He thought about asking his godfather if he could just spend the day in his room. After what had happened yesterday and during the night, Sirius would probably allow it too. But he didn't want to act like a big baby any more than he already had. Besides which, his academic career this term was not off to a bright start and he couldn't really afford to miss classes this early on. He still wasn't quite ready to face his friends though.

"Could we just eat here? he asked hopefully.

Sirius nodded his head. "Sure. Why don't you go take a quick shower and I'll arrange for it, okay?"

Comforted by his godfather's easy going manner, Harry nodded. Reaching over to give Sirius a quick hug in gratitude, he pushed the blanket aside and slid off the bed before making his way into the bathroom. Watching him go, Sirius was working diligently to keep his temper in check. As soon as humanly possible, he was going to confront Alastor about his teaching methods and it would not do to ram his wand down the former auror's throat in the middle of the Great Hall. He still had too much lingering respect for his former mentor for that. Although, after what Harry had just been put through, not much more.

*****

Thankfully, for Harry, Sirius had thought to supply his small wardrobe with extra uniforms, robes and the necessities. Showered and dressed, the two sat around the small dining table pecking at the breakfast that the house elves had delivered. Sirius was throwing anxious glances at his godson every few minutes. He wasn't entirely convinced that Harry was doing as well as he professed.

For his part, in an effort to put more upsetting matters behind him, Harry was trying to decide how to best bring up the topic of what happened in his Potions class the day before. He _had _to tell his godfather. Sirius would surely find out some other way and then it would probably be twice as bad for Harry when he did. After all, he was new to the whole concept of having to confess school transgressions to a guardian.

Maybe Sirius would be understanding. He hated Snape with a passion, after all. Also, didn't Sirius have quite a track record of detentions himself? It would be absolutely hypocritical of him to give Harry a telling off for something that he had vast personal experience with.

Sirius was looking at him quizzically. He knew that there was something that Harry was debating internally. Every time his godson was mentally weighing having a conversation with him about something prickly, his forehead would scrunch up in concentration. Smiling slightly, he decided to put the boy out of his misery.

"What is it?" he asked, giving the boy a wink.

Harry's eyes shot up in surprise. He was caught and he knew it. Harry looked at his godfather's expectant face and knew that he just needed to rip off the bandage quickly.

"Snape gave me a zero and detention in Potions yesterday," he said sullenly, afraid to look Sirius in the eye.

Sirius frowned. "_Professor _Snape, Harry. And why did he do that, might I ask?"

Speaking quickly and defensively, Harry outlined what happened during the lesson. When he was done, his godfather's face was murderous. Paling rapidly, Harry panicked at the thought that Sirius was going to blame everything on him.

"I didn't do anything, Sirius. Honest," he pleaded.

Recovering quickly, Sirius looked down at the distraught child. "I know that, Harry. I'm not angry with you." He didn't fail to notice that Harry took a deep breath of relief. He sighed sadly. It really had been a tough two days already for his boy.

"Harry," he started, "just relax, little one. You may have gotten off to a rocky start this term, and I'm sure that my presence here has not helped at all, but it will all smooth out and get better." He leaned over and put a comforting arm around Harry's shoulders.

"Just study your lessons and do your homework. Don't forget to have some fun. You can even get into a little mischief as long as you don't go too far overboard," he said with a wink, "or do _anything_ dangerous," he warned, looking pointedly at him.

Harry had the sense to blush at the reminder of his usual escapades.

Smiling mischievously, Sirius tapped the end of the boy's nose with his long index finger. "I promise that I am not going to go _mental _every time you get a detention. Just don't make a regular habit of it, okay?"

Grinning sheepishly, Harry gave his godfather a quick hug in appreciation. He had to admit that he did feel loads better. He realized that he had unknowingly been feeling a lot of pressure to not disappoint Sirius at school and the knowledge that he wasn't expected to be perfect calmed him considerably. "Okay."

Sirius held him for a second and the got a jolt of inspiration. "Seeing as today is Friday, why don't you invite Ron and Hermione over for the evening. We'll do something really fun for dinner and then play silly games all night. Just be jolly for a while. I'll invite Remus too. What do you think?"

Harry beamed, feeling a huge load lifted off of him. "I think that's a brilliant idea."

Sirius watched as Harry disappeared down the circular staircase, much happier than he had been earlier. He knew then that they would find a way to get through everything together.

****************************

Ron and Hermione were quite worried about their friend when Harry didn't join them at breakfast. Hermione especially had been fretting that Harry had taken the DADA demonstration much harder than he had let on. After all, they knew that he was sensitive about the topic of his parents. He didn't shy away from the subject when it had to come up in conversation between the three of them, but he definitely bristled when it was mentioned in mixed company.

"I'm sure he's fine, Hermione," Ron stated with more confidence than he felt. "Sirius' note just said that he wasn't feeling well last night."

Hermione huffed, unconvinced. On the one hand, she was worried about how Harry was handling what had really been a bad couple of days. On the other hand, she was more worried about how his strict (in her mind) guardian was handling them. It's not that she didn't like Sirius, because she really did. It was more a matter of thinking that he had Harry, who had always been fairly independent, on an awfully tight leash. She wasn't sure how Harry would react to that kind of restriction.

Ron, on the other hand, having had a slightly more close encounter with the kind of disciplinarian Sirius was, was not terribly concerned about that aspect of it. He just felt that his friend was slowly drifting away from them and it upset him more than he cared to admit. It made him jealous to think that now that Harry had a father, especially one who worked at Hogwarts, he didn't particularly need his friends anymore. With Hermione always at her studies, he had been feeling unhappily lonely of late.

As they slowly walked towards their morning History of Magic class, they bickered back and forth for a ways until they saw Harry striding down the corridor to meet them. Far from being the distracted upset mess he had seemed the day before, he gave them both a large genuine grin as he jogged a bit to catch up with them.

"Hey," he greeted them happily.

"Alright then, Harry?" Ron asked, confused but not disappointed in the change in his mate's demeanor.

"Yeah, sure," Harry answered back as if Ron had two heads. "Sorry about yesterday, guys. I was just a bit tired, is all." He didn't want to go into any further detail. It was over and that was that.

Hermione gave him one of her disbelieving looks and he found himself turning away. If he avoided looking her directly in the eyes, there was a chance that she would just let it go.

"s'all right, mate," Ron assured him. If Harry didn't want to talk about it, he wasn't going to force him. Harry shot him a grateful look and then remembered about the invitation.

"So, you guys want to come with me to Sirius' tonight? He's going to invite Remus too. He promised we'd do something fun."

Ron agreed immediately. Sirius always seemed to have the best ideas for entertainment and he inwardly brightened at the idea of being included in time that Harry was spending with his godfather. "Yeah, definitely." Even Hermione allowed herself a small smile when Harry gave her a flash of puppy dog eyes.

"Okay," she agreed, laughing. "I'll have all weekend to study." Harry and Ron snorted and exchanged exasperated looks.

Good humor returned to all three of them and in much better moods, they arrived at the classroom just as Professor Binns came gliding through the blackboard.

*************************************

Sirius glared at Moody across the professor's table at lunch. He had been getting into the habit of sitting next to Alastor during meals but, on this particular afternoon, he didn't trust himself to sit and make polite conversation when he was clearly itching gouge out the old auror's good eye. He glanced over to the Gryffindor table. His godson was sitting with his friends, laughing about who knew what. It warmed his heart to see Harry looking so carefree again. He had been terribly worried about the damage that might have been done to the already hurt child.

The Alastor he had known before his time in prison would never have even _suggested _subjecting a bunch of fourteen year old kids to the Unforgivables, let alone show them himself. Through Alastor's rough exterior beat a heart of gold in his interior. His entire reasoning for becoming an auror was because, once upon a time while he was still in Hogwarts, two dark wizards had broken into his parent's home as payback for the life imprisonment of a friend of theirs. Alastor's father had been the judge that signed the order for incarceration.

They had killed Alastor's mother and little brother right away using the killing curse. Then they made his father watch as they used the imperious curse to force his little sister to do unspeakable things with them. Then, as if that wasn't enough, they made the little girl watch as they tortured his father into madness and death. Unfortunately for the little girl, they didn't finish the job they started with her. Unable to cope with the trauma she experienced that night, she suffered in mental anguish for years before taking her own life at the age of sixteen. The two had fled, leaving no trace other than a cryptically worded taunt written in his sister's blood.

Alastor had his revenge though. In his first year as an auror, he had reopened the cold case and pursued it with a fiendish obsession. After many false leads and dashed hopes, he finally broke the coded message they had left and hunted them across four continents. He got his first facial scar from the duel that resulted in their capture and he successfully pushed for the Dementor's Kiss. After watching it performed, he had grabbed two bottles of firewhiskey and eventually passed out on the graves of his family. After that, he had single mindedly devoted his life to the eradication of the Dark Arts, becoming the greatest auror there ever was.

Suffice it to say, this was not a man who took the Unforgivables lightly. Even as an auror who was authorized to use them in the line of duty, Alastor only ever killed when it was absolutely necessary. It just didn't make any sense. Did twelve years really change a man that much?

Sirius thought back to all the conversations they had had during his years of training.

_"Constant Vigilence, Blackie! That's all that separates us from the dead and buried," he bellowed, forcing Sirius through his paces again in dueling practice._

_Sirius, sweating and panting from the exertion, just bobbed his head up and down a bit, ever mindful of where the next attack was coming from._

_"We fight so that our children may never have to. We bleed so that they may never need to know the darkness."_

_Sirius dodged another curse and rolled to his side on the ground._

_"Good, Blackie! Excellent. Again," he roared his approval. Groaning, Sirius stood back up and started the drill again._

Remembering what his mentor had been like in those days, Sirius wondered what exactly had happened to him. Coming back to the present, he noticed everyone getting up from the meal. Alastor was taking another long swig from his elaborate flask. He wondered if the old auror had taken to drinking. It might explain his behavior. Rising to his feet, he made his way over to the end of the near empty table.

"Alastor, a word if you please."

Alastor looked up at him critically, his wild blue eye whirling around in the socket as it appraised his potential as an enemy.

"Certainly, Sirius. What can I do for you?" he grunted.

That was another thing. Ever since he had arrived at Hogwarts, Alastor had only referred to him by his given name. In all the years that they had known each other, he had never called him anything but 'Blackie'.

Sirius sat down next to him, vowing to keep his temper in check. "I'd like to know what you were thinking teaching Harry's class about the Unforgivables," he stated simply.

"You do, huh? Well, I think it's high time these kids know what they are up against. These are dark times. They have to be prepared for the worst and they can't do that if they don't know what threatens them."

Sirius shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know if it escaped your attention, Alastor, but these children are only fourteen, for Merlin's sake. What happened to protecting our children? When did they become part of the fight?"

Alastor took another long swig. Trying very hard, Sirius leaned a bit closer to see if he could smell the telltale odor of firewhiskey, but he couldn't.

"They became part of the fight the minute little Harry Potter defeated the Dark Lord. Surely you want him to be prepared if he has to do it again?" Alastor spat, never looking Sirius in the eye.

Sirius seethed. "Harry doesn't need to see a spider killed with the killing curse to understand its ramifications. He lives with them every day. Neville Longbottom doesn't need to see what his parents experienced when they were tortured into madness either. They're just children, Alastor. Remember when that meant something to you?" It was a low blow, but he didn't care.

Standing up abruptly, he restrained himself from punching his old mentor in his scarred face.

"I don't know what game you are trying to play here, Alastor, but I assure you that if it involves my godson, you will answer to me. I don't care what allegiance or respect you think I owe you. I don't want to see you near Harry outside of class, and if I find out that you have been using your position here to hurt him, I swear that Dumbledore's reaction will be the least of your problems."

With that, he stalked out of the room, never seeing the gleeful smile on the old man's ravaged face.

*********************************

In the darkness of the room, Sirius leaned over and gently brushed away the hair on his godson's forehead that threatened to spill in his eyes. He was definitely taking Harry for a haircut tomorrow while they were in Hogsmeade. He smiled gently at the peaceful sleeping face. After all the activity this evening, he was sure that the boy was exhausted and, for that, he was grateful. Maybe Harry would get a good night's sleep.

On the other side of the bed, Ron mumbled something incoherent about spiders and rolled to his side facing away from Sirius. As usual, Harry had tried kicking off his blanket, taking it from Ron as well. Sirius chuckled softly as he pulled it back up over the two boys, Harry shifting in comfort of the welcoming warmth. Silently, Sirius leaned over and pressed a small kiss on top of the too long ebony hair.

He tiptoed across the room to the door, sparing a glance over to the far wall where Hermione slumbered in the transfigured bed. He made a mental note to make more permanent arrangements for Harry's friends. They had all had such a good time this evening, it was unanimously decided to make it a weekly event. Satisfied that all three Gryffindors were safe and comfortable, he closed the door and joined Remus in the sitting room.

The room was an awful mess. Sirius had had the bright idea to have a make-your-own-pizza night for dinner. It was a brilliant idea, or so he was assured. The kids had a blast piling toppings high on the little pieces of flat crust. The boys trying to out do each other with the most obnoxious combinations. Hermione was just pleased that she was not forced to partake in an especially scary looking sausage, anchovy, olive, ham and pineapple concoction of Ron's. She just wanted to know how to perform the spell that cooked the little laden rounds.

Keeping in the theme, they were given free rein in making their own sundaes as well. Once again the boys tried to see who could add the most to their old fashion sundae glasses without spilling over the top. Hermione just rolled her eyes as she kept to her own small dish, her dentist parents' words of warning never straying too far from her conscience.

Groaning in discomfort from all the food, they had settled down to games. Remus and Ron engrossed in a particularly lethal battle of wizard's chess. Their little corner of the room regularly smoking from the destruction, in truely bloody fashion, of their opponent's pieces. Sirius, Harry and Hermione fought each other with Exploding Snap. Harry winning most of the games as Hermione kept up a steady stream of badgering as she tried to get Sirius to support her new organization S.P.E.W.

Even after he had patiently explained how hypocritical it would be of him to do so, both as an employee of Hogwarts and the master of house elves himself, she persisted. Eventually, he caved to the point where he pledged a donation of twenty galleons to the cause with the condition that she stop trying to free them against their will.

There had been rumors of complaints from the elves that cleaned Gryffindor Tower that items of clothing were being placed where they could be tricked into taking them. Busted, she postured for a moment or two, but eventually agreed. She had come to the conclusion that if Sirius, with his wild popularity, was willing to wear the badge at the teacher's table during meals, the publicity was worth more to the cause then her single handed underground efforts at knitting.

Children secured in Harry's room, Sirius strolled over to the sofa where Remus was sitting in front of the fire, his feet propped up on the coffee table. The tired godfather plopped down next to him and added his feet to the table's burden.

"So, what are you planning on doing?" Remus asked bluntly. Upon his arrival, Sirius had informed him of the goings on with Harry and Alastor, including his strong suspicion that his old mentor was acting well out of character.

Sirius shrugged. "Honestly, I don't know. I thought about consulting Albus, but I'm not sure it's come to that just yet." He let out a loud sigh and summoned his tea cup from the table, drinking the lukewarm dregs for something to keep his hands occupied.

"If you like, I can make some quiet inquiries. At least talk to Arthur. He was the one that got Alastor out of the bind over that rubbish lid nonsense just after the Cup. Maybe he noticed something that could help."

Sirius turned his head and gave his friend a grateful look. "I'd appreciate that. I'm going to keep a close eye on him here. Something's not right, Remus."

Remus nodded his head comfortingly. "Don't worry old friend. We'll figure it out."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Sorry for the delay in posting. I was away on vacation for a few days. Too much sun and not enough internet access. Thanks for taking the time to review! Your opinions and ideas really help me set the tone of the story.

I promise that the next few chapters will be out much faster. Not much excitement in today's chapter though. We have a lot of background to establish first! Bear with me, lol.

Curlybean, I have a little something for you today. ;)

***********************

It was official. His hand was permanently damaged.

Harry sat at the little dining table in Sirius' sitting room, stacks of books piled all around him, a thick roll of parchment in front of him. Even though he had been working for hours, ever since they had gotten back from Hogsmeade, he still only had three feet of his monster of an essay done.

Grunting in pain, he flexed his writing hand. He turned his head to where his godfather was sitting on the sofa grading papers. Maybe, if he was very lucky, Sirius would let him stop working for the night. He had tried, about an hour earlier, to convince his godfather to show him a little leniency with no luck. Harry found his response entirely unfair. It was his bloody paper after all! Harry was sure that Sirius knew how sorry he was for the misdeeds with the spells. He had certainly apologized enough for it!

He had just opened his mouth to ask, when he was stopped abruptly by Sirius' voice.

"I said no, young man," he stated firmly, without even turning around. The cranky boy glared at his godfather's back wondering why he got stuck with the guardian with a sixth sense for whinging.

"My hand is ready to _fall off_, Sirius," he moaned half-heartedly, feeling a bit put out. He had been working on it diligently for quite some time and he was getting hungry.

"Then I promise that I will spell it back on for you," Sirius teased. "You won't even be able to tell the difference."

Against his will, a smile started to tug at the corners of Harry's mouth. It was hard to whinge when he was being made fun of by his good humored godfather.

"Well, can't I just stop until we eat then? I'm getting really hungry," he wheedled, knowing how Sirius felt about his eating habits.

"We agreed that you would do homework until six o'clock and then we would have dinner," Sirius reminded him. "You don't have to work on your essay anymore, but you do have to work on something."

Harry groaned and leaned back into his chair in defeat. A quick glance at the clock over the mantle told him that is was just a little after five. Looking at the three blank feet of parchment still in front of him, his hand started to ache again. He promised himself that he would never be careless with spells again.

"Besides, how can you be hungry again so soon?" Sirius asked in surprise. "You had that enormous lunch at The Three Broomsticks and I even let you get a bag of sweets from Honeydukes. Which, by the way, I noticed are all gone," he scolded, finally turning around and giving Harry his patented displeased-godfather glare.

Harry thought back to the brilliant day they had just had. They didn't do anything out of the ordinary for Hogsmeade. Just lunch at The Three Broomsticks, which Harry had never seen half empty before. Apparently it was fairly quiet on non-Hogwarts weekends. Madame Rosemerta was a big fan of Sirius'. She fussed and fawned all over them and kept refilling Harry's hot chocolate mug steadily in order to shamelessly flirt with his godfather. A couple of times it had been so bad that Harry seriously feared for the hasty reappearance of the steak and kidney pie he had eaten.

Afterwards, they shopped in Zonko's, Sirius getting a bit of the mischievous gleam back in his eye as he saw all the new products. He bought Harry a large bag of them with the proviso that he share with Ron and the twins and that he promise to not use any of them on his poor old defenseless godfather. A stipulation that made Harry snort rather loudly and earned him a few stares as his mind raced with visions of replacing all of his godfather's quills with ones that sprayed stinksap.

Then Sirius had dragged a protesting Harry to the barber and allowed the ancient looking proprietor to hack at the unruly mop with particular vengeance. After being handed a small mirror and seeing the short tufts of hair that remained, albeit still unruly, Harry glared at Sirius menacingly until he was taken to Honeydukes and allowed to run wild. He bought bags of sweets for himself as well as Ron and Hermione, demolishing his own within an hour of returning to Hogwarts and being firmly put at the table to work for three hours.

All in all, it had been a great day for Harry. Not the least of the reasons being that he had spent the time with his godfather. Sirius could make anything seem ten times more fun and interesting than it would normally be just by exuding his own unique brand of enthusiasm.

"I'm a growing boy," he answered cheekily, rubbing his good hand through his newly shorn hair. He wrinkled his nose at the length. "I can't believe you let them cut my hair this short. You don't wear _your_ hair this short," he grumped, looking accusingly at his godfather's shoulder length tresses.

Sirius sighed. "It'll grow back." He turned back to his work, but not before flicking his wand to send a banana sailing across the room from the fruit bowl on the coffee table over to Harry. "Enough stalling. Back to work."

Harry huffed and then began to peel the yellow fruit before pulling his books towards him again. "You're just as bad as Hermione. You know that, don't you?" Harry accused him between bites.

His godfather snickered from the sofa. "Remind me to thank her then. For clearly, she is the reason you have managed to scrape the grades that you have earned so far." He didn't have to see the scowl on Harry's face to know that there was now one there.

"I worked really hard all summer and she wasn't even there," Harry grumbled, somewhat affronted by the accusation. Sirius heard the underlying hurt tone in the boy's voice and wondered if his teasing had gone too far.

"I know you did," he soothed. "And I am very proud of the work you accomplished." He glanced up and saw that Harry's feathers seemed to be a little less ruffled. His godson really had worked very hard on his extra lessons and, on the whole, had complained much less about them than he thought he would.

Sighing unhappily, Harry picked his quill back up. "Does it really have to be six whole feet? I mean, that's _massive_ for an essay!" Sirius threw his quill back down. At this rate he was never going to get any work done.

"Yes, Harry James. It has to be _six whole feet_. Remember that it's not just an assignment, it's a punishment. A well deserved one, I might add. It's not supposed to be fun." He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, the start of a headache definitely on the way. "You should be grateful that I'm having you do it."

Harry's eyebrows shot through the roof at the absurd statement. "Grateful? Why should I be grateful for a punishment that is injuring body parts I'm going to need again someday?" he asked incredulously, waiving his injured limb around for proof. He was still smarting from hearing his godfather use his first and middle names. He felt three years old when Sirius did that.

Sirius turned back around and gave him a stern look.

"Because, if I had not assigned this to you, you would have been serving a week long detention writing lines with Professor McGonagall for that little stunt you pulled, like Mr. Malfoy received. I managed to convince her that I would handle everything myself. Personally, I thought that having to research and write an appropriate essay might be more appealing to you than what your original punishments were going to be." He paused to watch as the blood drained from his godson's face in realization.

"Of course, if you are unhappy with my solution, I could always give her a quick fire call and tell her that you have changed your mind," he added threateningly.

Harry sat back up in his seat and pulled to the parchment towards him. "No sir. I'll do the essay," he responded sullenly, both his writing hand and his backside twinging in fear of the alternatives.

Smirking, Sirius faced back towards his own work. "I thought you would see it my way."

*************

For early September, the weather had turned a bit brisk and Remus found himself pulling his practically threadbare robe tighter around his thin frame. He reminded himself again to get some new ones. With the money that Sirius had insisted on depositing into his Gringott's account, he no longer had monetary worries, but years of frugal habits were hard to overcome. He hated the fact that he was practically rendered unable to provide for himself. All of those years of hard studying, in the hopes that scholastic achievement would outweigh cross species prejudice, had proved for naught.

By great fortune, in the absence of monetary wealth, he had been blessed with a wealth of love and friendship in the forms of James Potter and Sirius Black. It pained him to think about how he had failed them both when they both needed it most. No amount of persuasion from either Harry, on behalf of his parents or Sirius, on behalf of himself could convince him that he had not.

Sirius, no matter how much he wanted to assume all the blame for the demise of James and Lily, could not absolve Remus of the guilt he felt for believing Sirius guilty of betraying them. Even when his lifelong friend had begged his own pardon for suspecting him of the same, the tortured werewolf had not released himself from his endless torment of knowing that he watched an innocent man go to the darkest place on Earth for twelve long years. He had been so blinded by pain and loss he had not been capable of rational thought at the time and had allowed himself to be convinced of something he would never have truly believed for a moment on his own.

And Harry, with his large green trusting eyes, Harry had never, for one moment, laid any of the blame for his parents' death at Remus' feet. Not one word of recrimination from the boy, either regarding Remus' failure at helping to ensure their safety or allowing the unjust imprisonment of the one person who could have raised him in a loving home away from the cruel dispassionate Muggles that despised him. When Albus told Remus that Lily's abhorred sister and brother-in-law were to be the ones to raise the sweet bubbly baby that had captured all of their hearts, Remus had pleaded for another solution.

Albus' swift rejection, citing the blood protection and the certain rejection of his guardianship by the Ministry, had cut him to his core leading to his estrangement from his former headmaster and friend for several years. It wasn't until Albus had finally tracked him down and implored him to come teach at Hogwarts that they had made amends. In deference to the debt he owed Albus for painstakingly arranging his schooling when it was not thought possible and, even more, the chance to finally become reaquainted with the boy he had loved like a son, he agreed.

To see Sirius and Harry finally together as they always should have been after the horrific deaths of their beloved friends, warmed Remus' heart like he had never thought possible. In just a few short months, he had been joyously watching as both godfather and son blossomed before his eyes. With a loving father figure in his life, Harry had lost much of his hard, defiant exterior and had become more of a regular teen-aged boy. As for Sirius, Remus would never have believed the transformation of his reckless irresponsible friend into adoring firm father if he had not seen it with his own eyes.

Pushing forward into the brisk pre-autumn wind, he made his way towards the odd shaped ramshackle dwelling that was his destination. There was a matter that was both concerning Sirius and potentially endangering Harry. Remus was making it his mission to resolve the situation. He would no longer sit back and watch the two most important people in his life become endangered. He would no longer be blind to potential threats and false information.

Approaching the door, he gritted his teeth and steeled his resolve. He rapped on the door sharply and waited tensely until the tall man with the shocking red hair opened it and smiled warmly at him.

"Remus! What a nice surprise," Arthur greeted him cordially. "What brings you here, today."

Forcing a smile, Remus took a deep breath. "Arthur, I need your help. I need to know everything that has been going on with Alastor Moody lately."

Arthur Weasley frowned briefly at the sharp underlining tone of the normally affable man's voice. Nodding agreeably, he stepped back and invited formidable looking former professor into his home.

Remus Lupin had the soul of a saint, but the heart of a werewolf. Merlin help the one that tried to hurt his loved ones.

**************************

Neither Harry nor Ron could remember when they had ever been so dirty in their lives. What had promised to be another grand adventure in undiscovered castle rooms, had instead been hot, grungy and boring work. Their demeanors were vastly different from what they had been a couple of hours before.

**

"Alright, lads. What are the rules?" Sirius asked with his arms crossed over his chest. The three were in the first of several small filthy rooms in the Astronomy tower that Sirius had picked to re-organize.

"Don't leave the room we working in," Harry answered, rolling his eyes.

"Don't touch anything we don't recognize," Ron chimed in, smirking.

"Don't open boxes without you," Harry added, huffing impatiently.

Sirius repressed a smile at the obvious affronted tone in their voices. Raising an eyebrow he apprised them critically. "And the most important one?"

"Don't do anything dangerous that we would normally do," they replied in unison, cheeks flushing and voices pinched at the reminder of their usual mischief.

Sirius let out a small snort. "Good. I'll be upstairs working on lesson plans for an hour or so, and then I'll come back down and join you." He gave them a quick wink and then strode out of the room.

Left to their buckets of soapy water and rags, the two boys appraised the room to decide where to begin. Both of them considered spending a couple of hours each Sunday helping Sirius clean out the tower rooms to be a brilliant idea.

Ron was pleased with the idea entirely. Of course, the money was nice, meaning he would now be able to buy something really special for Hermione's birthday. The event held more importance than before as he was not entirely sure she had forgiven him for the debacle after Harry's birthday. But, more than that, he would be spending time with Harry. It was hard getting used to not having his best mate around all the time now that they were back in school.

Sure, he had been spending time with Hermione, but she was keeping herself quite busy with studies and S.P.E.W. Ron didn't want to spend _all _of his time in the library, after all. Besides which, lately he was finding it a bit uncomfortable to spend too much time with her. He wasn't sure why. He actually enjoyed being around her. It just seemed as if he was enjoying it a little too much. The thought disturbed him somehow.

As for the other Gryffindor boys, Neville was caught up in the book that Professor Moody had given him the day of the Unforgivables demonstration and Seamus and Dean had their own dynamic that he didn't really want to intrude upon. Fred and George were keeping completely to themselves these days. Even Lee Jordan was around them less than usual. Ron knew that something was going on with them, but he was keeping his thoughts to himself. He had learned his lesson about snooping around the twins' business uninvited.

Harry was just happy to get away from his school work for a while. His godfather was being annoyingly firm regarding his study habits. Harry was used to studying when and where it suited him, which, most likely, was the basis of his less than stellar grades so far. Sure, his grades were _okay_, but they were nothing really special. Harry was entertaining ideas of becoming an auror, but Sirius had been quick to point out that he would never make it with his academic record so far.

Feeling a bit put out by the bluntly honest comment, Harry had given his godfather quite a shirty remark about how he was not his father nor his godfather. Both of whom, he knew, had excelled academically with seemingly little effort. Keeping his temper in check, Sirius had told him that no one expected him to be either James or himself, but the Auror department did not take anyone with Harry's grades and he would do well to remember that if he wanted to be among their privileged ranks. He also gave the boy a stern glare as he told him that he and his father had studied quite a bit, _thank you very much_, regardless of what Remus may have told him. Remus had been an earlier, even more studious, version of Hermione. In his opinion, no one could ever have studied too much.

It wasn't as if his godfather was pushing him in the direction of Auror. Harry had no idea of the sleepless nights Sirius spent wondering if his godson would have any future at all. But even though Harry knew he should appreciate all the prodding Sirius was doing in getting him ahead academically, he still found himself bristling over his methods. For his part, Sirius was not so much worried about Harry's career choices as he was about his godson having the best possible chance of saving his own life. Hence, his determination that Harry would study as much as he could make him.

So both boys had started the afternoon in a very good mood, despite the lecture from Sirius before they began. They didn't even mind the first hour as they sorted and scrubbed, becoming blacker with accumulated grime as time wore on. There were all manner of discarded textbooks and files full of the decaying parchment of old Astronomy assignments. The students of Hogwarts had usually found Astronomy to be a dry dull subject and their opinion of the scholastic material was reflected in the apathetic contents of the stacks of essays and charts.

Throwing the brittle yellowing papers into a pile in the corner, they took turns reading some of the more humorous and sarcastic comments to each other to pass the time.

"This is all just a bunch of rubbish!" Ron exclaimed, as he added another foot high stack to the pile. "No one wanted to take the bloody class anyway."

Harry snorted. "Well, they do now," he laughed good naturedly. It was true. Enthusiasm for Astronomy had increased exponentially ever since Professor Black had taken the academic helm.

Ron smiled back. "That's true enough. Sirius is a brilliant professor. I actually _want_ to pay attention, now."

Harry rolled his eyes at the comment. A teacher had to be inspiring indeed to make Ron want to go to class. They shared another minute of laughter before Ron's expression became contemplative.

"How do you like having him here? Honestly," he asked his mate. As much as Ron missed Harry's regular presence, there was no denying that his friend was much happier than he usually was.

Harry was quiet for a moment, his forehead wrinkled in concentration as he pondered his answer. How did he make Ron understand how grateful he was for his godfather's presence without making himself look juvenile and pathetic?

"I'm happy he's here, Ron," he finally answered simply. Sneaking a quick glance at his best friend's face, he decided to damn the consequences and be truthful. To a degree.

"I have a lot of things to deal with. Things in my past, memories of my parents I didn't know I had. He's helping me through it."

Ron looked up in concern and with more than a little bit of hurt. Harry had always come to him with his problems in the past. He suddenly found himself feeling a little put out with the knowledge that Harry's godfather was taking his place in that respect.

For his part, Harry could tell immediately what was upsetting his friend and rushed to assure him. "He knew them, Ron. Better than anyone else. I really need him to talk to me about them. I need to know what their lives were like. Why they did what they did." He pleaded with his eyes for his friend to understand. "No one else can help me with this, not even Remus. He wasn't as close to them at the end as Sirius was. You know what I mean?"

Ron forced himself to nod. He wanted to understand. Deep down he knew that Harry had the right to learn everything he could about his parents and if Sirius could help him with this, who was Ron to deny him? It didn't mean that he missed his friend any less though.

Harry couldn't share with Ron how much he needed Sirius' steadfast paternal love and guidance. That was just too personal.

In near silence, the boys resumed their tiring gritty work.

********************************

Harry was stalling.

He knew it. Sirius knew it. It didn't matter. He was still stalling. As the clock ticked dangerously towards seven o'clock, he sat determinedly at the table, pushing around pieces of the treacle tart that he normally could not get enough of. Sirius had made a special point of having it at the dinner table tonight, hoping that Harry would be a little cheered. His godfather watched him with an appraising eye, unsure of what to do or say to make the next few hours of Harry's life as painless as possible.

Sirius was still fairly upset over Harry's insistence that he not intervene with the detention that Snape had set for him for seemingly no reason. The concerned godfather felt that it was nothing less than his parental duty to march down into the dungeons and physically shake an explanation out of Snivellous. Certainly, it would be cathartic for him to make the greasy git squirm and worry a bit over his fate like he had done to Sirius' child. The mere idea of it brought a small smile to the handsome face with the hard gray eyes. But, for Harry's sake, he held his temper. The boy had pleaded with him to not get involved just yet.

Finally, it was ten minutes before he was due in the dungeons. Sirius leaned over and straightened Harry's tie. He didn't want Snape to be able to give Harry more of a hard time if he perceived that they boy was being insolent with sloppy dress for a formal detention.

"You'd better get going, Harry," he warned quietly. "You don't want to be late and give Professor Snape more ammunition against you."

Groaning, Harry slid out of his chair and put his robe back on. Tonight was going to be endless, he mused silently. Snape had several disgusting and demeaning chores that he handed out during a detention. Harry's stomach lurched involuntarily as he wondered which one it was going to be.

_Probably the cruelest one he can think of_, the boy thought miserably.

Sirius stood up as well and gave Harry a quick hug. "Just keep your mouth closed and do what he tells you to do. No need to give him a reason to assign you another one, okay?"

Harry nodded dejectedly and grabbed his book bag from the sofa. He headed towards the door but was stopped by his godfather's hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, if he tries to make you do anything that is not in the normal scope of a detention, I want you to leave and come right back here, okay? You are under no obligation to be tortured by him. I'll take care of it if he is overstepping his bounds. Don't do anything yourself. Do you hear me?"

Harry nodded again. "Yes, sir." He wasn't scared of Snape anymore, regardless of Sirius' fears. He just felt completely put out that he had spent the whole summer trying to get his potions professor to think better of him and he had, apparently, completely failed. Snape was just as bitter and cruel as he had always been.

Wishing his godfather a good night, he trudged down the stairs and across the corridors in the direction of the dungeons.

****************************

In the darkened corridor, Harry paused for a brief second before pushing open the heavy oak door that led into the potions classroom. At the far end, Snape sat at his desk, his sallow skin looking even more jaundiced than usual in the dim torchlight of the large room. He didn't seem to have any expression on his face at all as he concentrated on whatever it was on his desk that he was reading.

As quietly and quickly as he could, Harry made his way up the aisle between the class tables and stopped in front of the desk. Not wanting to incur the man's wrath this early on, he remained silently standing, waiting for Snape to acknowledge his appearance. After a few long agonizing minutes, Snape finally deigned to glare at him from between the greasy curtains of his black hair.

"Mister Potter," he drawled sneeringly, "how lovely to see you this evening."

Harry choked back a rude retort after reminding himself of Sirius' warning.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," he greeted as politely as he could.

Snape looked appraisingly at him for a short moment before rising from his desk.

"Put your things away and take out your wand. We shall be picking back up where we left off with your lessons. You have been practicing, I hope."

Harry blinked several times. His face was a mask of confusion at the man's words. Was this what his professor had planned all along?

Severus saw the disbelieving look on Potter's face and grimaced. _Merlin save me from the idiocy of this boy! _Taking a deep breath, he glared at Harry, who was still standing dumbfounded.

"Surely, you understood that I needed a ruse to explain your presence here this evening? I was under the impression that you knew of my unique circumstances that would not allow for you to be seen with me with any regularity without a good reason?"

"Uh, um..I," Harry stammered in disbelief.

Severus let out a very loud huff. "Stupid boy! How else did you think we were going to be able to continue your lessons without attracting unwanted attention? Didn't your mutt of a godfather suspect that this might be the reason you were summoned here this evening? I don't like the man but I never thought that he was particularly daft."

He was met with a blank stare as Harry mentally tried to accept the sudden turnabout in circumstances. Frustrated, Snape just spun about and set up two chairs in their usual positions. Without being told, Harry sauntered over and took his place, trying desperately to calm his mind enough to properly assume the necessary concentration.

Sitting down across from the boy, Severus adjusted his robes into a more comfortable position. "By the way, Potter. I managed to save a small portion of the potion that I banished from your cauldron. I was pleasantly surprised that it was far beyond your normal work. You will receive an E for your efforts."

Harry dropped his concentration and almost choked as he processed the words. Snape suppressed a snort from seeing the boy's comical response. He couldn't resist taking taking another shot at him.

"I will, of course, be taking the credit for your miraculous new grasp of the subject matter. Clearly you have been making the effort to utilize my superb book."

Watching Harry's jaw drop, he seized the opportunity to draw his wand and attack. "_Legilimens_!"

**********************************


	7. Chapter 7

Severus Snape was in immediate danger of losing his title of _Professor With the Most Impressively Billowing Robes_.

Anyone watching Professor Black, as he strode determinedly down the corridors of the castle, would have had the good sense to stay far clear of the man. His normally dancing gray eyes were scarily stormy and the way his jaw was set in fierce concentration would have frightened even Voldemort himself. Sirius didn't notice the students that scurried out of his way as he thundered by them. Professor Black's midnight blue robes swirled behind him menacingly, giving one the impression of him flying across the ground as opposed to striding. He had one target on his mind at the moment, and it was the great greasy bat that haunted the dungeons.

Earlier that morning, Sirius had anxiously searched the Great Hall at breakfast to get a good look at his godson. He didn't want to hover over the boy like a coddling nanny goat, but he was worried about what had happened during Harry's detention with Snape the night before. To his immense relief, he saw his beloved boy sitting at the Gryffindor table with Ron and Hermione, laughing good naturedly at something that one of them had said.

He had a plump sausage speared onto his fork and was taking large bites of it between snickers with great gusto. Catching his godfather staring at him, he grinned and made his usual big production of downing his vitamins, a routine that had become a source of morning humor between them. Relaxing significantly, Sirius winked at him and returned to his own breakfast. Whatever had happened last night in the dungeons, it didn't appear to be upsetting the child.

It wasn't until Sirius had approached Harry after the meal to inquire about the details of the detention that his blood had begun to boil. In all honesty, he had briefly considered the possibility that it was a ploy to explain Harry meeting with Severus for the resuming of the lessons. However, just as quickly as he had thought it, he had dismissed it as implausible.

Although he had certainly discussed Harry's continuing education in Occlumency upon his return to Hogwarts with Snape and the headmaster, no details had been finalized yet, and Sirius had been left under the distinct impression by Albus and by Snape himself, that the lessons would not resume until they had all met and agreed upon a course of action. Sirius, of course, fully expected to be consulted on any plans made. He was determined to be close by while they took place as he had during the summer.

To find out that Snape had acted of his own accord, without any regard to Sirius' parental rights, infuriated the godfather and he was determined to express his displeasure to the obnoxious git and leave him in no doubt of what the consequences would be should he try anything like this again.

Harry had seen the fury in his godfather's eyes spark almost immediately after he explained about the true nature of his detention. Panicking, he had pleaded with Sirius to let it be. After all, nothing bad had happened during the lesson other than him receiving a rather stern scolding for letting his studies lapse. It had been readily apparant that Harry had not been practicing since his return to school and Snape had verbally expressed his displeasure for several minutes before continuing the exercises. Although Harry had blushed with embarrassment from the severity of the rebuke, he knew that his professor was right and he had offered a sincere apology as well as a promise to not ignore his responsibilities again. Snape nodded curtly and the rest of the evening went as productively as his lessons had before during the summer.

"Sirius, do you have to say anything to him about it?" Harry begged, knowing his godfather's temper. "Nothing bad happened. He was really quite decent about the whole thing. He even gave me full marks for the potion."

Sirius frowned, his anger far from abated. Gritting his teeth he looked down at his godson's anxious face. "Yes, Harry. I do have to say something to him. He was out of line doing anything like that with you without my consent. We were supposed to have an understanding about these things and he just threw it in my face."

Harry's eyes pleaded with his godfather to change his mind. Softening, Sirius reached down and cupped the side of his face. "I won't have you treated like a pawn in a game of wizard's chess. Severus and I will most likely never see eye to eye and I won't have him using you to try and get the upper hand in our personal affairs. As your guardian, it is my duty to make sure that no one takes advantage of you. Do you understand that?"

Harry nodded sullenly, casting his eyes down to the floor. He did understand Sirius' need to feel protective of him, but he didn't want anyone fighting over him. Seeing his godson so upset after he had been happily grinning at the breakfast table, Sirius felt almost sick with the guilt. However, his paternal stance kicked in and he convinced himself that confronting Snape over his blatant deviousness would be in Harry's greater good. He firmly believed that giving Snape an inch would encourage the man to take a mile and, when it came to Harry's well being, that was just not on.

Sirius gave Harry a quick squeeze and hurried him off to his morning class, telling him not to worry. He watched his godson trudge off to his lesson, significantly less cheerful than he had been. The sight revved Sirius' ire back up a few notches and he resolutely turned in the direction of the dungeons.

***************************************

It was fortunate that neither Sirius nor Snape had classes first thing that morning. In the mood he was in, Sirius would have had no compunction about bursting into the Potions classroom and storming down the aisle with his wand raised in front of whatever students were there.

Which is exactly what he did in the almost empty room.

Only Severus was present, sitting at his desk preparing for his late morning lesson. He didn't even look up from his notes as Sirius pounded across the floor in a fury. He had been expecting this.

"Do come in, Black. No need to knock or anything," the Potions Master sneered as he kept his attention on the parchment in front of him. "We don't need a little thing like basic common courtesy to get in the way."

Sirius seethed as he desperately fought to keep himself from ripping Snape's throat out. He had promised Harry that he would not hurt the man, after all.

Snape let out a small snort as he perceived Sirius trying to calm himself. "I take it you spoke with Mr. Potter about our little get together last night?"

"You had absolutely no right, Snape!" Sirius thundered dangerously. "I was very clear about being consulted before these lessons resumed."

Severus let out a bored yawn as he kept the enraged godfather's wand hand in the periphery of his sight. "Honestly, Black. Must you watch over that boy's shoulder twenty four hours a day? As if you could even protect him as well as I could," he added with a lazy curl of his lip.

Severus Snape was a smart man and a talented wizard, but he wasn't perfect. In his arrogance during the exquisite taunting of one of his former tormentors, he made two large miscalculations in judgment.

The first one being, having never had a paternal bond with a child, he grossly underestimated just how colossal a mistake it was to make light of the single minded dedication that came with such a bond.

The second one being, when engaged in a school yard variety row, never forget any of your opponent's strengths.

In his overconfidence in the belief that he could take Sirius Black in a duel, he quite forgot about the fact that the man didn't need a wand to attack him.

Sirius, wide eyed with rage, didn't even consciously plan his attack. As Snape kept a sharp corner of his eye raptly trained on the other man's wand, he didn't even see the instantaneous shift from man to enraged beast until the massive black Goliath that was Padfoot hurtled through the air with amazing speed and beautifully horrific grace, the dark snarling demon shoving him viciously to the ground.

****************************

Oblivious to the turmoil commencing in the dungeons, a lone wizard sat at his work.

The unnatural peace and calm of the man's mind should have disturbed him more than it did. On some small conscious level, he knew that the mental state he was currently in was cheap somehow, and inherently wrong. Unfortunately for him, the larger part of his muddled awareness was too focused on the task at hand to pay any attention to the small worried voice in the back of his brain that was screaming in protest.

Meticulously and methodically, he worked through the morning, heeding the sinisterly whispered instructions that broke through the filters of his mind. He obeyed them like a desperate servant, his willpower all but drained against the near constant onslaught of his senses. An even smaller part of his tortured intellectual state was praying fervently that he would be released from his mental bounds when he had successfully completed his assignment.

The talented man cast spell after spell in a near feverish state preparing the glowing blue object in front of him. Everything had to be perfect and the magical manipulations required were extensive and extremely sensitive. He struggled to take great pains to avoid detection. In his precarious position of employment, all would be lost if he was ever to be revealed. Even in his faux euphoric ecstasy, he could feel the impending doom of disaster and pain if he failed.

*****************************************

Severus lay on his back, his breath coming in sharp jagged gasps as he struggled to breathe under the enormous weight of his attacker and regain his composure. It was a near Herculean feat. The assault of the beast Padfoot had resulted in the loss of Snape's wand which had been flung from his grasp and sent clattering across the stone floor. He closed his eyes and focused his mind away from the oppressive weight of the behemoth pressing down on his chest, the demon's head dangerously close to Snape's face, the hot, panting foul breath burning against his pale skin, the large swags of sticky mucous cascading from the growling muzzle and pooling onto his exposed neck. His mind whirled from the onslaught of nightmarish memories that poured forth into his mind.

Snape had gone too far provoking Black and he knew it.

Of course, Black didn't know about Snape's childhood fears. He would have had no idea about Tobias Snape's sadistically trained wolfhound that the bully of a father used to torture his son. For years before Severus was allowed to leave the miserable home life at Spinner's End for Hogwarts, he was constantly at the mercy of his father's brutish temper and liberal use of a four legged implement of torture. When Tobias wasn't beating his son himself, he allowed his faithful companion to have free reign in tormenting the boy.

Severus spent many nights sleeping in the dilapidated tool shed behind the ramshackle house, unable to leave because of the snarling guard keeping watch over the door. Laddie Boy had bitten the child on numerous occasions with his master's encouragement. As they were among the only times that Eileen showed real concern for her son's well being, Severus had almost found himself looking forward to the attacks. While his mother magically attended to his wounds, he could at least try to pretend that his mother loved him.

Sirius didn't know how the presence of his animagus form triggered the cold, placid former Death Eater's one true fear.

Against his will, Snape trembled slightly under the oppressive weight of the monstrous beast. Not even in the presence of Voldemort himself did the spy's blood ever run this cold. Unable to coherently defend himself, Snape just lay there with his back pressed against the cold stone, willing himself to ignore the panic. Lost in the feral rage of his animagus form, Padfoot's only conscious thought was the foul creature underneath his massive paws presenting a threat against his pup, Sirius was lost to the rest of his surroundings until he heard a familiar worried cry from the doorway of the dungeon.

"Sirius, no!"

The beast Padfoot did not release his prey, especially at the sound of his pup drawing closer to the threat of danger. Baring his massive teeth, he growled a warning to the pup to stay away.

Harry ran towards the commotion, undeterred by his godfather's vicious snarl. He wouldn't allow Sirius to be returned to prison for harming Snape. Approaching the man with the large black beast still crouching on top of his chest, Harry skidded to a halt next to them and reached out a small hand to tentatively stroke the coarse black fur in what he thought would be a soothing manner.

"Sirius. Please," he begged, hoping to snap his godfather out of his rage.

Padfoot regained enough of his senses to realize that his pup was upset. Sirius took the opportunity to regain control of the canine mind and pushed to the surface of consciousness. He regarded the fallen man underneath him with distaste and loathing, but his godson's worried green eyes were the more pressing matter to address. Reluctantly, he initiated the shift back into his human form.

Immediately, Harry grabbed his godfather's wand arm in concern. Keeping his stare trained fully on Snape, Sirius tried to push Harry behind himself in a protective stance. Seeing that Sirius was regaining control of his temper, Harry yanked himself from his godfather's grasp and moved forward, his hand outstretched to his professor still stunned on the ground. Ignoring the boy, Severus leapt to his feet, his coal black eyes seething. The two men glared at each other wordlessly, each trying to decide how to maximally neutralize the other.

Harry looked from the stormy gray to the hard black back and forth until his own emerald green raged.

"Enough!" the boy finally yelled, his worry gone, his patience at an end.

Stunned, the two men looked at the red faced boy who was panting furiously with impatience. Seeing that he had finally acquired both of their attentions, Harry squared his jaw and damned the consequences.

"Professor, Sirius is my guardian. You should have talked to him first. I appreciate your help, but I don't appreciate they way you are trying to bait my godfather," he stated firmly as he looked at Snape's surprised face. Turning to his godfather, he glared with a vehemence that he would normally never dare use. "Sirius, I love you, but I'm not your pawn either. It's hypocritical of you to accuse him of something that you seem to be doing yourself."

With that, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the classroom. Dumbfounded, the two men watched him go, neither one of them failing to notice, with a small measure of satisfaction, the inherent strength of the boy that was destined to be their saviour shining through. Returning their glares to each other, a cold and silent understanding seemed to pass between them. Without a word, Sirius turned and followed his godson's path out the door.

*****************************************************

Once his initial anger had died down, Harry was struck with terrible guilt for his words to his godfather and professor. He couldn't help himself at the time, though. He could see the glint in Sirius' eyes that morning that the matter was not going to be resolved amicably. It wasn't until he had already reached his Charms class and was sitting there unnerved that he belatedly remembered that Sirius had once before reacted on impulse. That time had resulted in twelve long years in Azkaban.

Panic stricken, he had grabbed his book bag and bolted out the door and fled, as quickly as his Quidditch toned frame would carry him, down to the dungeons. He was upset, but not surprised to see the scene going on inside the classroom.

Something had snapped inside of him. He was tired, so tired and irritated about the whole ongoing rivalry between Snape and the remainder of the Marauders. Sirius, although he had tried for Harry's sake during the summer, could barely contain his loathing for the potions master. Even kind hearted Remus, although extremely grateful for the potion that the headmaster had insisted on Snape providing every month, could show flashes of distaste for Snape when he didn't think that Harry was paying attention.

Not that he blamed his godfather and honorary uncle entirely. Harry himself knew what Snape could be like and he had not appreciated the man's deception either once he had learned the whole story from Sirius regarding the continuation of his Occulmency lessons. He was just really tired of being manipulated by everyone. After learning about the friction between the Marauders and Snape during their school years and realizing how much his own life had been impacted by events that had been beyond his control, Harry was just sick to death of being caught in the middle.

Seeing himself in immediate danger of losing his guardian once again to his fiery temper, Harry did what he thought he had had to do. Now he felt sick to his stomach over the harsh manner in which he had treated the men. Snape was doing him a great favor at great risk. Harry knew that above anyone else. The headmaster had explained the enormous chances that Snape was taking to help him. As for Sirius, he was nauseous over the way he had spoken to his beloved guardian. He had been rude and insolent and he wouldn't blame the man for giving him a good smack when he went up to the tower for dinner.

He dragged himself around for the rest of the day in a funk. Unfortunately, it was his day for Potions and Astronomy. Snape had barely even acknowledged his presence in the class. Proabably a good thing as Harry was still on edge and he didn't want to lose it in front of all the Gryffindors and the Slytherins. For once, he was grateful that Snape treated him coldly, all but ignoring his existence. He was surprised when the man did not tear into him in a vicious manner for any sort of perceived insolence.

As for Astronomy, Sirius wouldn't even look him in the eye during the lesson. Possibly because whenever he came close to Harry, Harry cast his eyes to the ground or looked away. When the lesson had ended, Harry had bolted for the door before Sirius could ask him to stay after. As he had over an hour before he was expected in Sirius' quarters for dinner, he didn't want to lose one precious moment of potential calming.

He had explained what had happened to Ron and Hermione after their late morning class. Thoughtful as always, Hermione had grabbed them all sandwiches from the Great Hall and they joined him walking around the lake to keep him from running into either man during a time when he would not be able to escape. Hermione had thoroughly voiced her approval for his actions. She even promised to give him extra help with the Charms lesson that he had run out on as well as to speak to Professor Flitwick so that Harry would not suffer any penalty for his disappearance. Flitwick was extremely fond of Hermione. She could make him hear reason. As for Ron, he didn't know what to say and settled for giving encouraging looks and occasionally patting Harry's shoulder in support.

He was extremely grateful to the both of them. Walking back to Gryffindor tower after Astronomy, they bookended him in the corridors in a comforting gesture of support and sat with him in the common room until he could no longer put off meeting his godfather. Sighing heavily, he trudged out of the portrait hole and made his way slowly back to the Astronomy tower.

*********************************

When he reached Sirius' quarters, he slipped in the door as silently as he could. He knew that he needed to apologize, but he didn't know how to do it. All Sirius had wanted to do was protect him. The idea of it warmed him inside, but he couldn't stand the way he felt constantly manipulated in the middle of the old feud. But, he knew that he had been out of line with what he had said. As much as he believed his own words to be true, he owed his godfather more respect than that.

Sirius was standing at the table mixing a salad in a large wooden bowl. He didn't acknowledge Harry as he entered the room. His focus was fixated on the bright greens and reds in front of him. Wordlessly, Harry pulled off his school robe and draped it on the sofa as usual. He observed his godfather warily as he slowly walked over to the table and slipped into his usual chair. He wanted to wait to see in what kind of tone Sirius greeted him before he said anything. That was usually the best judge of the man's mood.

Sirius continued to ignore him as he pulled a container of milk from his small refrigerator and filled Harry's glass. As Sirius fussed with plates and cutlery, Harry watched as every few minutes, he would rake his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner. While the minutes ticked by, Harry was becoming more and more unnerved. He had never seen his godfather this scarily quiet. He began to slowly nibble on his salad, seeing, out of the corner of his eye, Sirius fill two plates with pork chops and carrots and carry them back to the table. Keeping his eyes turned away from his godson's gaze, he sat down next to Harry and took a long drink from his wine glass. Harry couldn't take the silence anymore. Summoning up his courage, he decided to be the one to break the awkward silence.

"Sirius, I'm really sorry for the way I acted this morning," he whispered, his eyes downcast. "I didn't mean it."

Harry waited for a second for his godfather's response. He was at least expecting an irrate scolding or a disappointed lecture on his poor behavior. When he didn't get either, he raised his face up in confusion. Sirius was staring past him silently with the most indescribable look on his face. It kicked up his discomfort level a notch and the renewed sense of panic engulfed him. Obviously the man was much more angry than Harry had comprehended. Nervous now, he tried to stammer out another apology.

"I..I know that I was very disrespectful and I...really do apologize. I was completely out of line with what I said." Wearily, he hung his head let out a small sigh. "I'll accept whatever punishment you think I deserve and I won't complain. Just, please don't be mad at me."

Harry waited during a few more seconds of silence before he scrunched his eyes up in fear. "Please say something, Sirius. I really am sorry."

The next thing he knew, he felt his godfather's strong arms around him, the man's face pressed against the top of his head. Sirius had him in a fairly frantic embrace and Harry was thrown for a loop as to what was going on. Harry wasn't complaining. A hug was certainly better than the silent treatment he had been getting. He didn't start to worry until he felt his godfather start to shake.

"Sirius? Are you okay?" he asked in a voice laden with concern. Finally, he heard his godfather croak out a response.

"I almost failed you again today, little one," he said miserably. "If you hadn't come along when you did, I could have done something that would have ruined everything we have together."

Harry heard the real fear in the man's voice and he instinctively wrapped his arms around his godfather's waist.

"I almost let my emotions get the better of me again," Sirius continued brokenly. "I don't know how I let myself get to that point. How can you ever forgive me for almost ruining your life a second time?" Harry felt Sirius shudder and just gripped him tighter. Slowly he began to realize that Sirius had not been ignoring him out of anger at him, but out of loathing for himself. It gave him a deep pain in his stomach to finally see just how guilty his godfather had been feeling all day.

"You were right, Harry," he whispered throatily. "I wasn't treating you any better than Snape did. I tried to convince myself that it was because I was protecting you, but that wasn't the only reason I got so angry. I was mad because I could only see Snape going behind my back and I let myself fuel that anger and the results could have been devastating. I'm so very sorry. In the state I was in, I could have really hurt him and you would have ultimately paid the price if I had been put back in prison."

Harry didn't say anything. He just stood there and hugged his godfather as the man gripped him tightly and occasionally stroked the back of his head. He knew that his godfather was rattled beyond belief with how close he had come to making another impetuous decision that would have had catastrophic results. With his record, there was no way the Ministry would have ignored an attack on Snape if the man had actually been hurt and Harry would once again find himself at the mercy of the Dursleys. Sirius had told him himself that Remus would never be allowed to take custody of him. Prejudices ran deep at the Ministry.

Sirius held his most precious treasure as tightly as he could. It sickened him that he would now always find it necessary to protect Harry from his own impetuous actions as well. With his temper, thought long dormant but apparantly still readily available when provoked, he was just as much a danger to the boy's happiness and well being as anything else.

Their dinner long forgotten, they just embraced each other, the only sounds in the room were Sirius' repeated whispered promises to do better for his child in the future.

Harry believed him.


	8. Chapter 8

Okay, I know that Sirius in the last chapter was a little darker than you are used to seeing him in my story, but I thought it was important to point out that he is flawed and still has the same high emotions that got him thrown into jail in the first place. He's not perfect and will still struggle from time to time. Also, Harry is still a bright and observent boy as he always was. Also a bit stubborn and independent. He never cared for being manipulated and I thought it would be very likely that he would find himself in the middle of a grudge match between Sirius and Severus.

I also know that we have been going at a pretty slow pace so far. Things are going to pick up a bit soon, but there were two months of classes at Hogwarts before anything started with the Tri-Wizard and I wanted to use this time to explore the new dynamic between Harry and Sirius as student/teacher as well as parent/child.

So, bear with me everyone. I promise that we will get there.

Thanks for the reviews and feedback! Enjoy today's chapter.

***********************

Harry looked over the top of his bowl of cereal at his godfather who was absently drinking his morning coffee. Things were still a little awkward between the two of them over the past few days. For the first couple of days after the blow up over the fight with Snape, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that Sirius was treating him differently than he had been before Harry's outburst. He seemed hesitant and nervous. Not unlike the way he had acted when Harry had first come to live with him. Harry didn't like the regression in their relationship. He enjoyed the feeling of security that having a proper guardian gave him. He definitely had wanted his regular godfather back.

For Sirius' part, his confidence in his abilities to effectively parent Harry had been royally shaken over his complete loss of rational behavior that wretched morning. Uncomfortably, he had found himself walking on eggshells around the boy, nervously watching for any signs that his godson was going to just throw his hands up in the air and declare Sirius' parenting skills to be complete pants and walk out disgusted, content to raise himself for the next three years. Shaken, he wondered what he had ever been thinking when he thought that he could be a proper parent to a teenager. With an ability to have such a complete lack of restraint, and a godson who had clearly proved himself to be more adult than Sirius was, what did Harry need him for anyway?

Harry had wanted to reconnect with his godfather after the turmoil and, as such, he had been staying in his room in Sirius' quarters. Ron and Hermione had agreed with him on the issue, Hermione sagely advising him that his godfather was probably feeling a bit insecure right now.

He still felt very guilty for being so blunt and hurtful and was taking full blame for the fact that Sirius now seemed to be reluctant to even tell him to eat vegetables at dinner. It was too similar to the way he had been allowed to run amok at the beginning of the summer and it hurt him a little to see Sirius withdraw from an authoritarian role. Although he knew that most of his peers would have run shrieking through the corridors with unbridled glee if their parents had just rolled over and allowed them free reign, Harry missed having the comfortable structure that Sirius had been providing. He didn't want to go back to the days when he could crash into trees with a flying car and have no notice paid to it by his guardian. Uncle Vernon had always shredded anything that came from Hogwarts while Harry was at school without looking at it. He hadn't cared what the little freak was up to when he wasn't invading the serenity of Number 4 with his presence.

After another uncomfortable breakfast, where Sirius had not even bothered to fuss at Harry over taking his vitamins, Harry had decided that he had had enough of this rubbish. He just didn't know what to do about it.

He went into his room to gather his school books before leaving for class when he saw Hedwig tapping at his window, just returned from a long hunt. Opening the thick pane of glass obligingly, he let her in and she nipped his finger affectionately, clearly wanting a treat. He remembered that he had just bought a new bag of treats for her during his Hogsmeade visit with Sirius. Dropping to his knees, he half scooted under his bed where his shopping bags were. As he stared at his purchases, an idea popped into his head and he grinned madly.

_Yes, that would do nicely_

Quickly, he grabbed the necessary items and shoved them into his book bag. In a fit of inspiration, he expanded the plan and prepared another other item as well. Hurrying out the bedroom door, he saw Sirius standing uncomfortably in the living room. Sighing, Harry initiated the hug that his godfather was longing to give him but reluctant to force upon him. This whole thing was just entirely too bothersome, Harry thought, as he bid Sirius good-bye, confident that by the time the day was over, things would be back to normal.

*****

His last class of the day on Fridays was Divination which worked completely to his advantage. At lunch in the Great Hall, he explained his plan to Ron and Hermione. Ron had practically laughed himself sick over the mental image and promised to help, but Hermione frowned and gave him the glare that she reserved for when she thought the boys were doing something really stupid. Undeterred, Harry shrugged and told her that his mind was made up. Drastic measures were called for.

Sitting at their normal table in the blindingly colorful classroom that reeked of incense, Harry and Ron sat and quietly perused their crystal ball for a few minutes before Harry jumped up on cue and started to yell, perhaps overdoing it just a little too much. In a panic, he grabbed his things and tore out of the classroom as Professor Trelawney rushed over to Ron.

"He saw _The Grim_ again, Professor," Ron informed her in a hushed tone. His eyebrows were knitted in deep sincerity. "I'm sure he just needs some time to himself to get over his impending doom. He'll be fine," he assured her.

Nodding in an understanding manner, she patted Ron's back and returned to finish answering Lavender Brown's question regarding the Inner Eye. Ron smirked and, seeing as he no longer had a partner, he took the latest _Quidditch Weekly_ issue out of his bag and spent the rest of his lesson happily reading.

Harry had snickered the whole way down the winding staircase and out the front doors. Opening his bag he retrieved the necessary items and put his plan into action.

**************************

In the serene peacefulness of the Astronomy class, Sirius was giving an entertaining talk on the magical properties of asteroids when several projectiles were flung inside the classroom window, landing on top of his notes and the desks of three of the students in the front row. It didn't take long to figure out what they were. Splattering in a revolting manner, their unpleasant aroma forced those in the closest proximity to them to wrinkle their noses in disgust.

Another wave came hurtling through the air and spattered those in the second and third rows. A commotion began when the students started to leap up from their desks in an effort to put distance between themselves and the offending projectiles.

Sirius knew in a heartbeat what they were, having used them on many different occasions himself in his Marauder days. Dungbombs had been a favorite torment for the unsuspecting by James and Sirius.

Coming to his senses amid the squealing of the fleeing students, he looked towards the direction of the open window just as the third volley came through. He ducked in time to avoid the onslaught, but not before getting a good look at who the assailant was. With his short but still messy black hair and the unmistakable profile of the Firebolt underneath him, Sirius had no trouble recognizing his godson hovering a fair distance outside the tower.

The classroom was inundated with a foul stench and his fifth year students were turning an unhealthy shade of green. Sirius was growling at both the mess and the identity of the troublemaker.

"Class dismissed!" he hissed. The students didn't need another invitation and they quickly dispersed. Sirius took another agitated look outside just in time to see Harry struggle to grab another armload of the revolting rounds and start to slip off of his broom. His heart practically leaped out of his chest as he watched Harry drop his payload and frantically grab for a better hold on the Firebolt's handle and failing. Drawing his wand, Sirius acted quickly.

"_Accio Harry_!" he roared, relief flooding through him as his godson sailed through the air, into the classroom window and crashed into his godfather's chest with a loud _thump_! Panting from the stress and exertion, Sirius held Harry tightly as he caught his breath, the adrenaline receding. Once he accepted that Harry was safe and sound, his earlier anger returned and he jumped to his feet, dragging Harry up next to him. Scowling, he reached out his hand and firmly latched onto the little miscreant's ear and marched him downstairs to his quarter's.

Once inside the living room, Sirius spent ten very loud minutes scolding Harry within an inch of his life. It wasn't so much the dungbombs, after all Sirius had bought them for the boy himself, but he had almost had heart failure when he saw his child start to fall from his broom while hundreds of feet in the air. Harry kept his eyes downcast as his godfather ranted about how he could have killed himself, just for a silly prank. Finally spent, Sirius had spun him around to deliver a sharp smack to his behind and pushed him in the direction of the bedroom.

"Go to your room, young man, and get comfortable in it. You are grounded for the weekend," he said sternly, his eyes glaring in anger.

Harry attempted to form a small pout as he gave his godfather a contrite look. "Yes, sir," he said sullenly before turning back around and trudging slowly in the direction of his room. Facing away from his godfather, Harry rolled his eyes and sighed with a small smirk on his face. The paternal Sirius was definitely back, he noted happily, pleased with his success.

The things one had to do sometimes.

**********************************

It was beautiful weather for September, Sirius thought happily as he ambled through the main street of Hogsmeade. He felt a small pang of guilt as he thought about his godson confined to his room in the Astronomy tower. Surely Harry would have enjoyed walking around the little wizarding village on such a fine day. Sighing, he pushed aside any feelings of remorse over grounding Harry. Watching his beloved child almost plummet to his death had been enough to snap Sirius out of his pity party and allow the guardian in him to assert control once more.

He felt foolish that he had allowed himself to doubt his ability to parent his godson. After the first initial fits and starts, it had felt perfectly natural to him. It was only the mocking tone in Snape's voice that had riled him, reminding him of his intemperate youth. He knew he would not ever allow it to happen again. Harry was too important to gamble away in a fit of pique.

His confidence returned, he felt better than he had in days.

Sirius had forgotten that it was a school weekend for Hogsmeade visits. He had also forgotten that, as low man on the teaching totem pole, he was required to serve as chaperon for the first visit of the year. Reluctantly, he had left his godson behind. _Bloody poor timing_, he thought miserably. He had been surprised that Harry had been so understanding about it.

***********

After breakfast that morning, Harry had obediently returned to his room without being told. Sirius had felt enormous guilt when he went into the boy's room to say good-bye. Harry was sitting cross legged on his bed reading his Charms textbook and gave his godfather a friendly smile as he entered. Grimacing, Sirius strode over to the bed and sat down next to him.

"I'm sorry that I can't let you go with me today, Harry," he said truthfully. Even though he was already making plans to take his godson back to the little village next week, he felt bad that Harry was going to miss the visit with his friends. Sirius had not yet persuaded Minerva to allow him to take Ron and Hermione with them on their private visits.

Harry shrugged a little as he kept his eyes on his book. "'s okay, Sirius."

Sirius sighed. He didn't want Harry to think he was being cruel by going off without him. It was quite possible that, if he had remembered the school plans for the weekend, he would have thought of a different restriction for his godson. All things considered, he could not back down on the punishment he had given, no matter how much he may have wanted to.

"I've asked Dobby to bring you your lunch around noon, okay?" He tilted his head a little bit forward so he could see Harry's face. Harry just nodded and continued to read. Frowning, he reached out and ruffled the boy's short black hair.

"I'll be back around four o'clock and we'll have tea, alright?"

Harry kept his head down and nodded briefly again. "Um hmm." Sirius took a good look at his godson's face. Harry didn't seem to be pouting. In fact, he looked quite placid about the whole thing. Sirius had been expecting another row but Harry didn't seem interested.

He stood up and bent over to press a quick kiss on top of his godson's head. "Okay then," he said, a bit bewildered. "I'll see you later."

"Bye," came the response from the book.

Shrugging, Sirius had left the room and joined the assembled group at the castle entrance.

***********

Now as he patrolled the streets looking out for mischievous students, he missed Harry's company. He had really enjoyed the time they had spent there together the previous weekend. It had been a fairly uneventful day of chaperoning. He was a soft touch, after all, and he didn't really fuss too much with the little transgressions that he had come across. He did have the pleasure of sending little Malfoy and his overgrown goons back to the castle early when he caught them tormenting a few of the meeker Hufflepuffs. The smoldering glare from the freakishly blond boy was worth the price of admission alone.

It was almost time to start herding the students back to the castle before Sirius spotted Ron and Hermione standing in front of the window of the little silversmith shop. Hermione was bright eyed as she admired something in the window, Ron barely even acknowledging her interest. Careful to keep himself at a distance so as to not intrude on their private time, Sirius heard Hermione bid Ron farewell before dashing across the street to Scrivenshaft's. He was surprised to see Ron wait for her to be safely ensconced in the quill shop before ducking quickly into the silversmith's. When the affable redhead emerged, he looked decidedly downtrodden. Sirius' knitted his eyebrows in concern but decided against approaching the boy. Ron was more of a suffer-in-silence type of boy and he didn't want to upset him any further.

He waited until Ron met up with Neville Longbottom and joined him in Honeyduke's before he too went into the quaint little silver shop. Making his way determinedly over to the counter, he got the attention of the pleasant faced witch minding the store.

"Excuse me, dear lady," he drawled, summoning up his most charming persona, "My nephew was just in here a moment ago. The nice boy with the shocking red hair."

She smiled widely and nodded. "Oh, yes. Sweet child, he was. I'm sorry I wasn't able to help him," she replied regretfully. The redhead had seemed so unhappy when he had left her store.

Sirius pressed. "May I ask what he wanted? I've been looking for a gift for him for ages," he lied smoothly.

The witch beamed. What a nice uncle he must be to be so thoughtful. Too bad she couldn't help him out. "I don't think so. He inquired about the price of our charm bracelets that we have on display in the window. He mentioned something about a birthday gift for a young lady. I'm afraid they were a bit too pricey for him."

Sirius nodded, knowingly. "Ah, I see."

He spent a few more minutes speaking with the helpful proprietress, an idea forming in his head. Obviously, Ron wanted to purchase the item that Hermione had been admiring for her birthday and couldn't quite swing the full price. Sirius knew that, even with the pay for helping him clean out the tower rooms, Ron would only have half the necessary amount by the time the day in question came. It was only a couple of weeks away, after all. He knew he couldn't just offer to pay Ron in advance. The proud boy would never go for it. Leaving the store, he wrinkled his nose in concentration until he came up with a solution. He just hoped that it would work.

After he had done a final sweep of the main street, he began to make his way back up to the castle. As luck would have it, he saw Ron a short way in the distance walking alone. Calling to him, he was pleased to see his godson's gingered friend stop and wave happily at him, waiting for him to catch up.

"How was your visit today, Ron?" Sirius asked as he made his way to walk next to the beaming boy.

Ron kept the smile plastered to his face and shrugged non-committally. "Alright, I guess. Nothing special." He paused for a moment before speaking again without thinking. "It's more fun when Harry comes, of course." Catching himself, his eyes widened and he began to stammer an apology. "Oh, sorry, Professor. I didn't mean.."

Sirius grimaced slightly, but he put a hand up to stop the boy's embarrassed rambling. "It's okay, Ron. I'm sorry that he couldn't come too. I feel bad that I had to make him stay behind, but the next trip is only a few weeks away. He'll join you then if I can't arrange for you and Hermione to come with us sooner."

Ron cheered slightly and the two walked slowly up the steep hill towards the castle. He heard Sirius sigh wearily beside him.

"Something wrong, Professor?" he asked, concerned.

Sirius just shrugged a little. "I'm a bit knackered today, Ron. Sorry. I didn't know how much time it would take to prepare lessons and demonstrations. I'm a little overwhelmed."

Ron looked at him in surprise. "Really? I never realized how much work it might be for the teachers here."

Sirius nodded at him in earnest. "Oh yes. I'm considering hiring someone to help me out with a few things. Nothing major, just making a few models and filing papers and such. It would only be for a couple of hours a week, but I could use the assistance. They would have to make sure that their other grades were kept up, mind you. I'm not looking to have someone fall behind in their class work just to do a few errands for me."

He paused, waiting for the words to have the right impact, before proceeding nonchalantly. "You wouldn't know of anyone that might be interested in doing something like that, do you?"

Ron hesitated for a moment. He was really interested. Not just because it would mean that he could buy the pretty little bracelet that Hermione had her eye on, but because he really enjoyed spending time with Sirius. He just didn't want to look too greedy. After all, Sirius already paid him for the cleaning chores he did with Harry on Sunday afternoons. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and then decided to risk it.

"I..I would be interested, Professor. That is, if it's okay with you. I'm doing pretty well in my classes, so far," he promised hurriedly. "Hermione makes me study an awful lot," he added, grinning sheepishly.

Sirius let out a barking laugh. "I'm sure she does. Harry has already told me how she is just as much of a study bully with you two as Remus was with us back in the day." Ron laughed as well. The comparison was very accurate.

Looking down at the boy affectionately, Sirius wrapped an arm around Ron's shoulders as they walked past the Astronomy tower. "I'd be grateful for the help," he said with a large smile on his face, happy that he could help out his godson's best friend. Ron smiled back, pleased with the turn of events that would allow him to proceed with his plans to surprise Hermione. "Anytime, Professor."

Being so far down on the ground, neither of them noticed the hurt face of the raven haired boy staring out of one of the tower windows.

*************************************

Harry had worked hard to keep an appropriate look on his face that morning as his godfather took his leave of the tower residence. He couldn't allow himself to be too cheerful about his grounding. Sirius wasn't stupid. He would know that something was up.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy visiting Hogsmeade. He did, really. But he had just been there the week before and, quite frankly, he had had a rough week with his godfather's angst, the Occlumency lessons and practice, as well as his regular classes. Although he couldn't say with any pleasure that he enjoyed being confined to his room for two days, he didn't mind it as much as he might have some other time. He was looking forward to some peace and quiet, some extra time to work on the studies he was falling behind on and, in all actuality, he could use a few more hours of sleep to recharge. He was just happy that his plan to bring his godfather out of his funk had worked.

It hadn't been easy. Sirius wouldn't have gone mental just over the pranking. Firstly, a seasoned Marauder would have applauded the guts it took to do that in broad daylight, on a broom no less. Secondly, with the way his godfather had been acting, Harry figured that he would have been too uptight about recent events to even give him a halfway decent telling off. It had been a fit of inspiration that had convinced Harry that a little close call with danger would be required to wake up the parent in his guardian. Harry had been in no real danger of falling off of his broom. His Firebolt was like an extension of his own body. Even if he had really fallen off, he was prepared to summon it back under him, wand at the ready.

Of course, Sirius didn't know that. Harry had not been too sure of his acting skills but, thankfully, he got the response he was looking for. He had predicted the heated lecture, the grounding and even the smack. Sirius was getting much easier to read, after all. The only miserable part of the whole mess had been Sirius' insistence on having him clean the classroom of the dungbomb debris without magic. Harry hadn't considered that, but he had obeyed without complaint. It was all a small price to pay to right their world back onto its proper axis.

He had contentedly spent a quiet day reading and resting. Dobby had brought him a nice lunch and they spent a few minutes chatting amiably before the little elf popped back off to the kitchens. As Harry noticed the sky getting a little darker as the afternoon faded away, he could hear, through his open window, the sounds of groups of students returning to the castle. He shifted himself up off of his bed and stretched lazily, deciding to gaze out across the large lawn and look for his godfather's return. He was expected soon and Harry was looking forward to his company at tea.

He had not been keeping lookout very long before he saw the unmistakable form of Sirius striding back towards the tower and Harry smiled to see Ron at his side. He was pleased that his godfather was keeping his mate company. Harry felt a bit guilty thinking that Ron might have to go to Hogsmeade on his own. Hermione had mentioned needing to get back early to work on a paper. He waved at them briefly before realizing that he wasn't getting their attention. Sighing good naturedly, he sat in the window seat and watched them approach. They were laughing about something and Harry wondered fleetingly what it was that amused them. He would remember to ask.

It wasn't until he saw his godfather put his arm around his friend's shoulders in the same way that he did to Harry that the boy felt a crushing pang of jealousy come over him.

***********

Harry had been sulky during tea, Sirius noticed. He wasn't at all surprised. Actually, he had been a bit relieved that his godson was finally behaving normally during a grounding. His unnatural calm had been disturbing his godfather earlier in the day.

Sirius wanted Harry to know that he wasn't mad at him any longer. He took extra pains to be good humored, teasing his boy as they ate and ruffling the unruly black tufts more than usual. He even gave his little sulker a small bag of his favorite Honeyduke's treats, although he knew that he probably shouldn't have under the circumstances.

With the added attention, Harry's feather's smoothed out a little and he felt a small measure of guilt over his earlier reaction. After all, Ron had been sharing his family with Harry for years. Molly and Arthur had always treated him like a surrogate son and Harry grimaced at the selfish way he had reacted. He realized that it was only fair that he share his godfather with his best mate every now and then.

Feeling better, he was in a much more companionable mood during dinner and Sirius didn't immediately send him back into his room after they ate. He kept Harry with him for a while and they enjoyed an hour of much needed bonding time before he reluctantly pushed the boy in the direction of the bathroom for a pre-bedtime bath. He also happily accepted a tighter than usual hug from his godson when he went in to wish him good night.

It was unfortunate that he did not think about telling Harry about his new arrangement with Ron. He had no idea of the wedge that it would drive between the two best friends during the coming weeks.


	9. Chapter 9

Okay, curlybean didn't come out to play last chapter. Come on, girl! Put down that laundry. I've put in lots of Remus today, just for you, lol. :p

Thanks for all the reviews. I really appreciate all the time you all take to write them!

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Sirius was grateful for the impromptu visit of his best friend. As much as he knew that he couldn't keep his godson under lock and key in their quarters in the tower all the time, he missed Harry terribly during the week days when he slept in the Gryffindor dorm.

Like a warm and welcoming breeze, Remus had strolled through the door of Sirius' living room that evening, just as a case of the grumps was threatening to darken the Astronomy professor's normally carefree demeanor. Seeing the welcomed familar face of his fellow Marauder, Sirius brightened immediately and he hastily pushed aside the stacks of parchment that were his second years' essays that he had been grading.

"Moony!" he greeted enthusiastically. He stood and moved over to the small cabinet on the wall and withdrew two small crystal tumblers and a tall bottle swirling with reddish amber liquid. "You are a sight for sore eyes, old friend."

He poured two fingers of the pungent bottle contents into each of the glasses and thrust one of them into the werewolf's hand. "Staying the night, I hope?"

Remus rolled his eyes. Leave it to Sirius to get right to the point. He raised the glass to his lips and took a bracing swig of the firewhiskey. It burned going down his throat, but after the last few days he had had, it was a welcoming sensation.

"Apparently I am now, Padfoot," he teased. His week had been tough, but a quick firecall with Sirius last week gave rise to the notion that his friend had probably had a tougher one. Unfortunately, he had not had the time to come to Hogwarts sooner to see after Sirius and Harry. His covert investigation into Moody was a delicate matter and he could not just go running off when he had meetings set up with people who would not take kindly to being brushed off.

"How are you doing, Sirius?" he asked, his face intense with concern. "Is everything okay with Harry? Have you had any more trouble with Severus?"

Sirius led him over to the sitting area and they sank into the plush leather furniture and relaxed in the warmth of the crackling fire. Sirius had a small smile on his face and his eyes were bright and untroubled which immediately calmed the concerned friend.

"Everything is fine, Remus. It was a rough couple of days with Harry, but we got things sorted. As for Snape, Albus saw to that. Amazingly enough, Snivellous didn't even complain about my almost ripping his scrawny throat out. We've come to an understanding about Harry's lessons and such. He won't be trying to undermine my authority as Harry's guardian again," he replied with an air of certainty.

Remus cocked one eyebrow in disbelief. "My, my. What did Albus say to him?"

Sirius snorted and took another sip from his glass. "I have no idea. Albus threw me out of the office after he was done silently lecturing me on my lapse of judgment." At this, both men snickered, memories of their time in the headmaster's office during their Marauder days flooding through their minds. Dumbledore was extremely gifted in making them pale in fear with just an innocent twinkle of his ice blue eyes.

"Poor Severus," Remus chuckled. Neither one of them wanted to imagine what the understated and powerful headmaster would have done to him. A vision of Severus being forced to eat the entire contents of a tub of sherbet lemons came to mind. After a moment, Remus gave him a more pointed look. "What about Harry? Are things back to normal?"

Sirius smiled weakly and nodded. "Yes. It's fine. The boy has impeccable timing, Moony. The minute I decide that he's too mature to need guidance from the likes of me, he goes out and pulls the most ridiculous, not to mention dangerous, stunt. I guess I'm not quite as obsolete a godfather as I was afraid I would be."

At Remus' quizzical stare, Sirius decided to elaborate.

"My _sweet_ and _innocent _godson," he smirked, "took it upon himself to skive off of class Friday afternoon and then fly his broom up the side of the Astronomy tower to pelt me and my fifth year students with dungbombs!"

Remus choked on his drink and began to cough loudly, a large grin spreading across his face. Sirius shook his head mirthfully. "Not quite subtle, but it was effective. The whole room was inundated with the smell. It was a right proper mess. Then, to add insult to injury, he just about fell off the bloody broom."

Sirius didn't notice Remus sober up immediately and tilt his head to the side in thought. He just continued to ramble in an affectionate tone.

"I swear, Moony, my heart almost gave out on the spot! Fortunately, I was able to summon him to me before he could get hurt." He picked his glass back up and took another swig, shaking his head in mild irritation.

"I made sure he learned his lesson though. He spent the whole weekend grounded in his room and I had him clean up the mess he made, without magic, mind you. Poor lad was up to his elbows in dung. He had to miss the first school Hogsmeade trip too, unfortunately. I do feel a bit bad about that, but he took it very sportingly. Didn't even complain once."

Now Remus began to snicker slightly. He wondered if Sirius could truly be so very blind to not have recognized the obvious ploy on the boy's part. The entire episode was just so out of character for Harry. Surely Sirius could see that for himself?

Sirius glared at his best friend who was beginning to shake with laughter in the squashy armchair. At the irritated look on the godfather's face, Remus started laughing so hard, tears were beginning to roll down his cheeks.

"What, _exactly_, is so amusing, Remus?" Sirius demanded crossly. He knitted his eyebrows and Remus could almost see the steam building up in the glowering man's ears. The more perturbed he became, the harder Remus laughed.

"You've been had, Padfoot," he snickered between breaths. "I knew Harry was crafty, but he is good, very good indeed."

Sirius raised one eyebrow in agitation. "What are you trying to say?"

Remus snorted. A sound not usually heard from the normally calm and implacable former professor. "What do you think I'm trying to say?"

Sirius continued to glare at the graying werewolf for a minute before shooting him a disbelieving look. "No. Absolutely not. Are you going daft, old man? Why on Earth would Harry intentionally get himself into trouble?"

Remus smiled indulgently at the bewildered godfather. "Oh, I don't know, Sirius. Maybe to see if his godfather was going to bother to keep raising him or not? You have only been on the job for four months, you lazy thing. Did you honestly think that you were done? Or were you just so good at it that Harry only needed a few months of what other boys need for years?"

Sirius' eyes widened for a moment and then he started to shake his head in disbelief. "No. I don't buy it. Harry was just getting into mischief because he thought I wouldn't say anything about it. It's every fourteen year old's dream come true."

Remus laughed at him, a look of melancholy in his topaz eyes. "Not _your _fourteen year old's dream, Sirius," he said sadly. "He had three years at Hogwarts to get into that kind of mischief without having to worry about any real consequences, but he's never done anything like this before, has he?"

Seeing his friend truly fail to comprehend, he elaborated. "This is Harry we're talking about. The boy who, although prone to trouble, is so inexperienced in the art of pranking that I was seriously considering doing a paternity spell to confirm that he really is James' son."

Sirius raised one eyebrow in disbelief. Remus could tell that he wasn't convinced.

"Falling off his broom, Sirius? Really? The youngest Seeker in a century? Where there any dementors around? The boy could fly before he could walk. Merlin's malted milkballs, Sirius, _you _bought him the ruddy toddler's broom as well as the Firebolt that he flies better than a professional Quidditch player."

Slowly, a look of incredulous realization began to dawn on Sirius' face. Of course Remus was right. Why hadn't he realized it before? Sirius had seen Harry do acrobatics on his broom, that had made his godfather's heart jump into his throat, without faltering for a second. He wasn't the type that would lose his balance just from sitting in the air while using his wand to throw dungbombs. Remus smiled softly as his friend finally got the full picture.

"You're a good _father_, Padfoot. I think this was just Harry's little way of telling you that, at a time when you didn't believe it yourself," he added kindly.

Sirius felt himself having to swallow against an enormous lump in his throat, his eyes starting to mist a little. With enormous effort, he managed to stop himself from sprinting off to the Gryffindor common room and engulfing his godson in a bone crushing hug. "Well," he said in a choked voice, "imagine that."

"Imagine that," Remus echoed, looking fondly at his dearest friend. Sirius Black was never one who suffered from any kind of insecurity about anything, until he became a parent. Who would have thought?

The two men sat in companionable silence and slowly sipped the remaining whiskey from their glasses. Finally, after Sirius had drained the last drop from the heavy tumbler, he leaned over and tossed the empty crystal onto the coffee table in front of him with a loud _thunk_! Clasping his hands together as he rested his elbows on his knees, he gave Remus a pointed look.

"Alright then, what did you find out about Alastor?"

**************************

Harry looked across the table in the common room and stared as Ron and Hermione bickered quietly over her notes from their latest Charms class. As usual, Ron was attempting to wheedle the whip smart girl into helping the two less scholarly Gryffindor boys with their assignment. Harry wasn't really paying attention to the argument. He was focusing his attention on Ron and trying to make sense out of his uncharacteristic anger towards his best friend.

He kept trying to tell himself that he should be grateful for all of the times that Ron had willingly shared the entire Weasley family with him. It was at the Burrow that Harry had finally had his first real taste of being included and cared for. Uncomfortably, he thought about what had happened over the last weekend. He had been upset to see Ron and Sirius walking together, laughing, while Sirius had his arm around Ron's shoulders. But later, at tea, Sirius had acted like he always did, treating Harry like he was the only thing that mattered in the world.

Harry knew that he should not have felt so smug about that. It was too much like the way Dudley had acted towards him regarding Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He couldn't help himself, though. Finally having a parent of his own, he found himself very unwilling to share his godfather's attention with anybody. And truthfully, if it had just been the Hogsmeade trip, Harry could have seen himself getting over any feelings of jealousy very quickly. After all, he had knowingly pulled the prank that got him in trouble in the first place, so it was really his fault that he couldn't be there to join either his godfather or his best friend during the outing. It's not as if they purposefully went off without him.

However, just as he was feeling a little better about things, he had been abruptly reminded of the Sunday afternoon room cleaning/treasure hunt that he was meant to be doing with Ron. Apparently, Ron had stopped by Sirius' quarters to check and see if he was still supposed to be working that afternoon. Sirius had not made it clear to him while they were talking on Saturday. So, Harry had been surprised and more than a little upset when his godfather had come into his room to tell him that he and Ron would be working downstairs together for a while.

Although Harry knew that his punishment meant that he had to stay in his room all day, and Sirius would be out in the living room preparing lesson plans and not doing anything with him, it hurt more than a little to know that they would be spending time together while Harry would be all alone. Harry had tried to remind himself that he knew the consequences when he pulled the prank, but he felt a bit abandoned and it stung him more than he would have thought possible. He had too much pride to make a fuss, so he just bit his tongue and didn't complain. To his credit, he didn't even think about levelling any blame at Sirius, taking full responsibility for his own choices.

Harry didn't know that Sirius didn't want to deny Ron the chance to earn Hermione's bracelet, so he had agreed to spend a couple of hours with the redhead in the next room on the list. When he told his godson what he was doing, Harry had given no indication that he was bothered by it, so he didn't give the matter a second thought.

That had been irritating enough for the fourteen year old. However, he had been given another one of Snape's 'detentions' on Tuesday and it had been extremely taxing on him. Snape was upping the level of invasion attempts and it was becoming increasingly harder for Harry to fight them off. After two hours of a mental beating from the snarky professor who, unbeknownst to the boy, was still smarting from the unholy reprimand the headmaster had given him over the whole issue with Sirius, Harry left the classroom in an extremely sour mood.

In need of some sympathy and, okay...okay, probably a hug or two from his godfather, Harry had trudged up to the Astronomy tower instead of returning to the Gryffindor dorm. When he arrived, Sirius wasn't in his quarters, even though the hour was drawing quite late in the evening. On a hunch, Harry sprinted up the stairs to his classroom, coming to an abrupt halt when he heard voices coming from inside.

Edging his way towards the door as silently as he could, he was gobsmacked by the sight of his godfather and best friend working on a large model of Orion's Belt. They were laughing, drinking butterbeer and making a rather large mess. Wounded, and feeling left out again, Harry had slunk silently back down the stairs. When he arrived in the Gryffindor dorm, he had gone straight to his bed and drawn the curtains, refusing to speak to any of the other boys in the room.

What he didn't know was that Sirius and Ron had agreed that the nights that Harry had his special 'detentions' would be the best time for Ron to assist Sirius with his lesson preparations. Since Harry was going to be busy anyway, he wouldn't have the free time to spend with either one of them. Both of them mistakenly assumed that the other had told Harry about the new arrangement. As Harry had made it perfectly clear that he no longer feared the lessons with Snape and didn't want Sirius monitoring them, just in case there was another clash of personalities, Sirius never thought that Harry would come looking for him after they were over unless there was trouble. And, if there was, he certainly never thought that his godson would just slink away instead of telling him about it.

Now, as Harry glared across the table at his best friend, he choked back a harsh accusation. As much as the growing closeness between Sirius and Ron bothered him, he fought to convince himself that it was his turn to be generous with family.

**********

"Everyone I have spoken to agrees, Sirius. Alastor was fine until a month or so ago," Remus declared sadly. He had just finished explaining the multiple conversations he had been part of since beginning the hushed inquiry into the former auror. "You know that he has never been the most open of fellows with his personal life but, even still, he apparently has not been himself. Spiked levels of paranoia, even by his standards, short tempered, forgetful. A few think he may be becoming a danger to himself."

Sirius sat back against the padding of the sofa and exhaled deeply. This was the news that he had been dreading to hear. He raised his right hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, tightly closing his eyes. He did not want to be the one that would be responsible for putting a black mark against his old mentor's formerly respectable record of service.

"Do you think we should speak to Albus?" Remus asked gently. He knew how much Sirius had respected his mentor. He couldn't imagine the difficulty his friend must be having in absorbing the troublesome and comfortless news he had been forced to deliver.

"I don't know, Moony," Sirius responded softly, sighing as he fell further into the soft cushions. "He hasn't done anything harmful since that little demonstration. Actually, the students seem to like his classes. Maybe, as long as I can keep an eye on him, teaching is the best thing for him right now. I'm beginning to wonder whether or not Albus already knew this and that is why he made the offer in the first place. I thought it was just for Harry's benefit, but now, I'm not so sure."

Remus nodded slightly and stood, crossing the room with the two discarded glasses and refilling them from the bottle still resting on the shelf. With a weary stride, he returned to the sitting area and nudged one into his friend's hand. Normally, Remus was not the type of man who drank two glasses of whiskey in one night, but it was such a sad and tired night. Alastor Moody was the stuff of legends in the auror world. It hurt to see someone of his stature start to fall by the wayside.

"We can always just keep an eye on him, Padfoot. Maybe, it would help just to try and keep him from any unnecessary embarrassment. I'll try to come by as much as I can to help out when you aren't able. I've already spoken to Albus about enduring my transformations in the Forbidden Forest instead of my house. He agrees with you that it is a safer solution all around if you are with me during the full moons."

At this new information, Sirius sat up a little more and smiled widely. It had taken forever to convince Remus to come back to Hogwarts, even on a limited basis. He had left his much needed teaching position at the end of the last term after nearly forgetting his potion within snarling distance of hundreds of sleeping children. Sirius knew that he still had nightmares about what could have happened to both of them had not Snape come in search of them. As loathe as they usually were to talk about it, the subject of their adolescent torment was responsible for saving Remus from execution by the Ministry and Sirius from the Dementor's Kiss.

"I'm very glad to hear it, old man," Sirius answered affectionately. "I've long missed our moonlight romps in the woods." His face became melancholy at the memories and neither man spoke as they silently remembered the two others that would never join them again.

***************************

"Harry!"

Harry turned around and saw his smiling godfather coming towards them. The trio had just finished their last class of the day and were on their way back to the dorms to unload their books before heading off for dinner. He looked at Sirius quizzically, wondering what he wanted. Harry was due to meet him for the 'family dinner' in just under half an hour anyway. Was there something wrong?

He stood and waited, motioning for Ron and Hermione to stay as well. Sirius didn't look upset so he figured that it, whatever it was, was not too sensitive a matter for them to hear.

"Is everything okay, Sirius?" he asked, a bit concerned. His response was a large grin on the man's handsome face as he caught up to them and nodded greetings at Harry's friends. He reached over and ruffled Harry's short hair affectionately.

"No, nothing's wrong. I just wanted to catch you before you went to your dorm. I want you to put on some of your casual clothes and meet me at the front door in fifteen minutes, okay?"

Harry cocked an eyebrow, intrigued by the unusual request. Not that he wasn't delighted by the change of plans. Yesterday, during dinner, Sirius had made it very clear that Harry was to stay in their quarters after dinner this evening and study for his upcoming Transfiguration exam. At Sirius' request, given Harry's extra tutoring, Minerva was adding ten extra questions to his exam and Sirius wanted his godson to be well prepared for it.

"Why?" he asked, pleased, but puzzled.

Sirius draped an arm around his shoulders, his eyes dancing with mischief. Harry loved to see his godfather acting this carefree. Sometimes, especially lately, Sirius acted just too...well, _serious_.

"Because, my dearest godchild, I think you and I need an evening out and I'm getting bored with the spices in the Hogwarts' kitchens. I'm taking you into Muggle London tonight and we are going to eat the hottest curry we can find and see a movie. Would you like that?"

Harry's eyes popped wide and he beamed from ear to ear. "Absolutely!" He couldn't think of anything he would rather do with his brilliant godfather than what the man had suggested. Belatedly, he frowned a bit as he remembered what the original plans were supposed to be. "But, I thought I had to study for my exam tonight?"

Sirius gave him a small smile and tightened his grip. "I think you'll do just fine, won't you? I know you were studying very hard last weekend and you had all the answers right when I was quizzing you. I think we both deserve a fun night out together." His heart warmed at the sight of his godson's appreciative smile and then he looked apologetically at the other two Gryffindors. "I'm sorry, you two. I'm not allowed to take you with us. Professor McGonagall barely consented to let me sign Harry out, and he's _my_ kid."

Sirius glanced down at Harry as he said the last few words and saw Harry blush from what he hoped was happiness at the endearment. He was pretty sure he was right as he had felt Harry lean into him a bit more right after he said it. Damning the potential for embarrassment, he leaned over and kissed the top of Harry's head.

"Go on now, then. Get ready. I want to take off as soon as we can."

Harry nodded and reluctantly left his godfather's half embrace. Sirius watched the three start to walk off, before calling over to Harry. "Bring a warm jacket, young man. It's going to be cool out tonight!" Harry smirked, pleased with the concern, and waved his acknowledgement as they continued to scurry off.

Sirius watched his godson's departure with great fondness in his heart. Remus' talk had left him emotionally filled with deep love for the boy. Harry had allowed himself to be sternly chastised just to prove how much he needed his godfather. He was such a warm hearted child and Sirius often felt that he was not worthy of Harry and his innate goodness. He shouldn't be surprised.

Although James was a very good man, a good friend, Lily had enough love inside of her to give to the entire world. It had not surprised Sirius to have found out that, even in death, Lily had loved enough to bestow the most potent ancient magical protection on her son. In many ways, Harry was just like his father, but when it came to love, he was his mother's child.

All day long, Sirius had been eager to spend some quality time with his godson. He felt so wretchedly guilty for punishing Harry when he had only done what he did for Sirius' sake. He couldn't take it back, but he could try to make up for it. A night out, just the two of them doing something out of the ordinary, was just the ticket, he had decided.

Fifteen minutes later, Sirius had changed his clothes as well, looking handsome enough to make every muggle female in London swoon, and he was already waiting at the large wooden castle doors when Harry came trotting down the corridor. He greeted his godson, noting with approval the medium weight coat he had draped over his arm and they took off down the path towards the gates.

"So, what's the special occasion?" Harry asked, as he bounced excitedly next to his godfather's long elegant strides. He didn't want to spoil the evening by admitting to Sirius that he had never been to the movies before. The Dursleys had never permitted him to join them on their outings.

"Oh," his godfather sighed, "I was just visiting with Remus last night. I told him about your foray into the Marauder world last week," he answered, nonchalantly. "I missed spending time with you last weekend. Especially seeing as you could have gravely injured yourself. I was worried."

He looked down at his godson, who was pointedly looking in the other direction. He stopped his stride and took Harry gently by the shoulders. "I told him how my heart almost stopped beating when you just about fell off your broom." At this, Harry's young face developed a very guilty look. "Of course, Remus assured me that you are as likely to fall off of your broom from just sitting on it, as Dumbledore becoming a Death Eater." He cupped Harry's face with his hand and gave his godson a soft meaningful look. "I don't know what I was thinking."

Harry stared up at his godfather's apologetic face and clearly understood the double meaning of his last words. Silently, he wrapped his arms around Sirius' waist and held him tightly. They both knew what had happened now, but they wouldn't speak of it further.

It was done.

*************

Exhausted, the two of them slowly trudged up the hill towards the castle. Harry was still feeling a bit queasy from the apparition. He really didn't care for the mode of travel and decided right then and there that he would choose to fly his broom as an adult whenever it was feasibly possible.

As they walked on, every now and then he would pick a kernel of popcorn out of the bag that he still carried and throw it up in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. More times that not, unfortunately, he missed. He didn't care. He was enjoying spending time with Sirius, just the two of them.

"I'm not sure I cared for the movie," Sirius observed, a bit disappointed. "When I read that the title was 'Interview with the Vampire', I was expecting actual interviews. I had been hoping that they might have managed to get a hold of my old mate, Sanguini. He was always a glory hog for parties and celebrity. I'm sure he would have loved to have been in their movie."

Harry snorted and missed another kernel. "I thought it was brilliant," he said, truthfully. It wouldn't have mattered what film was playing. It was his first and he saw it with his godfather. Even though he had practically choked on his chicken vindaloo at dinner, the spices being so strong that he had to gulp down all the water in his glass and in Sirius' after taking too big a bite, he had enjoyed every minute of their evening together.

Sirius lifted an eyebrow and gave his godson a disbelieving look. "I question your taste in cinema, Harry James. I guess I'll have to take you more often so you can broaden your horizons a little, okay?"

Harry looked up at him and gave him a soft smile. "Okay."

He threw another piece of popcorn up in the air and was just about to dash after it, when he was practically knocked over by the large black behemoth that reached it first and swallowed it down, looking as triumphant as an enormous dog can.

"Padfoot! Not fair!" he called, good naturedly as he raced his godfather to the castle doors.

**************************

Back in the musty foul smelling room, Harry's stomach churned. The vision flickered in and out of focus as his subconscious mind fought to escape the hellish pull. Vaguely, he saw the small shape stirring in the middle of the molding chair.

"Is it done, servant?" it hissed, menacingly.

Struggling to free himself, Harry could barely see the blurring figure prostrate on the floor. "Almost, my master. Almost," it whimpered pitifully.

Grunting from the exertion, Harry had just about pulled himself away when he was stopped short.

"Almost isn't good enough, servant. _Crucio_!"

Harry felt the pain immediately and finally disengaged himself. Bolting up in his bed, covered in sweat, he screamed.

It took him a minute to recognize his surroundings. He was in his bed, in the Gryffindor dorm room. His scarlet bed hangings were closed as usual. Under Sirius' advice, he had begun to cast a silencing charm around himself before going to sleep so that he would not wake the other boys during a nightmare. This was the first one he had suffered since arriving back at school.

As he struggled to calm his breathing, he became aware of the dull ache in his head as well as the burning bolts of pain shooting through his arms and legs. He shivered from his sweat soaked t-shirt and the lingering discomfort.

All in all, he was feeling just miserable. Still a bit sick from his dinner out, now compounded monumentally by the aftereffects of one of the bad night terrors, he wanted to be in the comfort of his godfather's quarters. He knew he would not get back to sleep on his own tonight. Just being a few doors down from Sirius made him feel safe. Besides which, he knew that his protective godfather would want to know about the nightmare immediately. He had told him as much at the beginning of term.

Still struggling against the aftershocks, he wasn't thinking clearly as he fumbled to put his glasses on and then staggered out of the room. The other boys, having not been awoken by any noises, still slumbered on unawares.

Stumbling out into the corridors, he realized he had made a huge mistake in leaving his wand behind. Not only was it pitch black in the corridors at this hour, but Sirius would surely have some very stern words to say about going out unprotected. He pushed back the concern and ambled forward as best as he could. Holding out his right hand to feel his way along the cold stone walls, he tripped on a crack in the floor and fell to his knees.

"Bugger!" he grunted, feeling his left ankle turn a bit too harshly to the side. Still shivering in his damp shirt, he rubbed his ankle furiously as he prepared to get back up and hobble to the Astronomy tower entrance. A dull throb of pain pressed against his scar again, reminding him of his nightmare and he reached up a cool palm to soothe it for a moment. His eyes closed as he attempted to feel some small relief, he didn't see the light coming towards him until he heard the unmistakable sneer.

"Potter! What in Merlin's name are you doing out at this time of night?"

Harry sighed. He knew that voice. He unwillingly opened his eyes and was temporarily blinded by the _lumos_ light of the man's wand.

"Please, Professor. I need to see Sirius," he said, quietly.

Snape looked down at the shivering black haired mess on the ground. Potter didn't usually sound so tired and forlorn, especially when caught in the act of being out after hours. The boy also looked terrible and, seeing as how Snape himself was walking the corridors because of a discomforting itching of his left arm, he immediately knew what the trouble was. Promising himself to give the boy a heated lecture about keeping his guard up when he was recovered, he silently muttered a spell and a large silvery object shot out of his wand. Bending down, he hoisted Potter up to his feet and began to half drag the boy toward his godfather's residence.

By the time they were halfway up the spiraling staircase, Sirius had flung open his door and was shooting down to meet them. Frantic with worry, he pulled Harry away from Snape's arms and crushed the boy to his chest. He threw Snape a genuine look of appreciation. "Thank you, Severus," he said, breathlessly. Snape gave him a curt nod and spun around, retreating as quickly as he had come.

Harry leaned contentedly against his godfather, soothed by the vibration of Sirius' heart beating in his chest. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"Are you hurt?" Sirius demanded, his voice trembling with concern. He panicked slightly when he felt Harry nodding.

"I twisted my ankle, I think," the boy said tiredly, exhausted again now that he was with his godfather. Sirius bent his head down and saw that Harry was barefoot, his left ankle swelling painfully.

Easily, he lifted his small framed godson off of his feet and cradled him tightly. "Okay, little one. I've got you," he replied, shakily.

Carrying his precious bundle up the rest of the way, he took Harry inside his quarters to give him a father's comfort.

************


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Sorry all. I was just about to publish when my hard drive went bonkers. I lost almost everything on it and had to re-write this chapter from memory once I got my laptop back. Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long.

An extra long chapter is your gift for your extreme patience with my technological difficulties!

Also, for those that must be warned, there is a little CP scene in today's chapter. It's been a while for our young Harry, lol. He is still a stubborn boy after all! So, enjoy or ignore. Your choice.

******************

The headmaster's office never changed. Cozy but impressive, casual but imposing, littered with a myriad of shiny pointy objects that defied logic or reason. In the corner was a large carved ornate perch where a faded orange bird hunched in declining repose. Harry idly wondered if they were visiting on a burning day.

"Hello Fawkes," he whispered as he gently stroked the phoenix. The normally majestic bird trilled contentedly from the soft touch and rubbed against the side of Harry's hand. Harry kept his attention focused on the wilting familiar, trying very hard to ignore the palpable tension in the room between his headmaster and his godfather.

Professor Dumbledore sat in quiet repose at his desk. Across from him in one of the two conjured padded chairs sat Sirius, his gray eyes troubled and stormy. Harry flickered a glance towards them every few seconds wondering which was was going to win the silent battle of wills that was taking place. True, Dumbledore was a great wizard, but Sirius was here in concern over his godson's latest nightmare and Harry was betting that the former inmate of the harsh prison of Azkaban had a good chance of taking the headmaster in the fight.

Sirius had told Harry on the way over that Professor Dumbledore strongly objected to the boy's presence during today's little meeting. Sirius disagreed. When it came to anything that could possibly be related to Voldemort, he insisted that Harry be in the know. After all, the boy had already faced him in one incarnation or another three times before his fourteenth birthday and survived. As far as the normally protective godfather was concerned, Harry had earned the right to be privy to discussions.

Harry guessed correctly. Sirius won as evidenced by Dumbledore clearing his throat and finally speaking.

"I agree with you, Sirius. I believe that there is strong enough evidence that Voldemort is beginning to take steps to regain his corporeal form." He turned his ice blue eyes over to where Harry was standing quietly, the crisp orbs unmistakeably minus their normal twinkle.

"It is my opinion that the dreams young Harry has been experiencing are actual events taking place," he said solemnly, giving the suddenly edgy boy an apologetic smile.

Sirius inhaled deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. It was exactly what he had been expecting to hear, but it unnerved him, nevertheless. In that moment, he felt so incredibly powerless to keep his beloved child safe from the growing threat of the vilest evil that had ever walked on Earth. Voldemort had killed James and Lily effortlessly. An impressive feat considering the power and skills that the Potters had possesed between them. Sirius knew that he was a talented wizard, but if his equally talented best friend and his friend's singuarly gifted wife succumbed to failure protecting Harry, what chance did Sirius have?

"Professor Snape informs me that you have made good progress with your Occlumency lessons, Harry. Have you been practicing regularly since term has began?"

Harry looked up from the floor design he had been studying and nodded. "Yes, sir." He looked over at Sirius, who was beckoning him back over to the chairs, and obediently crossed the room and sat down next to his godfather, shifting nervously in his chair.

"Excellent, dear boy. I'm happy to hear it," he soothed, the twinkle returned, as he held out a cut crystal dish of pale yellow sugar coated sweets.

Not wanting to be rude, Harry took one of the proffered candies and popped it in his mouth. "Thank you, sir."

Harry closed his eyes and briefly relived the pain he had felt during the nightmare. So now he knew that his night terrors were real terrors and he himself was sharing in the torment of the cruciatus curse.

_Thanks again, Tom. There's another one that I owe you._

Sirius looked over at him, concerned, and reached over to gently rub the back of Harry's neck. "Are you okay, little one?"

Harry grimaced at the endearment in front of the headmaster and gave his godfather a small smile. "Yeah, I'm fine, Sirius. Stop fussing." Sirius looked unconvinced, but he remained silent.

After twenty minutes of surmising and strategizing, Harry didn't want to talk about it anymore and asked if he could be excused. He would be ready to meet whatever was coming for him, but he refused to spend all of his time dwelling on it. No one had any concrete answers right now and he could only spend just so much time on what ifs.

********************

This is not good. This is not good, _at all_.

That is what Harry kept repeating to himself after Professor Moody announced to the class that he would be putting the students under the Imperious curse during class today. Sirius was going to lose it, once he found out. Reluctantly, Harry knew that he would have to be the one to tell him, too. No one else would have a snowball's chance in hell of keeping his godfather's temper under control when he heard that the Hogwart's DADA professor was again spending lesson time casting one of the Unforgivables.

Of course, once he heard that it was being done to students, one of which was the godson that he was wildly overprotective of, Sirius Black was going to go completely mental. Of this, Harry was quite sure.

Harry shot a worried glance over to the table next to his where Ron and Hermione were staring back at him just as intently. Both knew what Sirius had told Harry about staying in a class with Moody if he was to walk down this road again. His godfather had told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was to leave the classroom and fetch Sirius himself. Hermione was definitely giving him her most displeased look and Harry felt like a chided two year old which only made him more inclined to ignore her.

Staring determinedly ahead, he watched as Professor Moody cast the curse on Neville. It was too shocking to see the shy, normally clumsy boy begin to exhibit an amazing display of gymnastics that he would almost certainly never be capable of otherwise. With the professor otherwise occupied, there was no one to stop the launch of a large ball of parchment that sailed over Ron's head and smacked into Harry's.

Annoyed, Harry turned towards the source and saw Hermione glaring daggers at him and mouthing _'go get him'_ very insistently. Indignant, Harry turned to face forward again, watching as Dean hopped around the room singing the national anthem. He could hear Hermione huff at him impatiently and could mentally visualize her leaning back against her chair with her arms crossed like an irate mother.

He didn't really know why he wasn't obeying Sirius' order, but as he saw more and more harmless demonstrations (Lavender Brown acting like a squirrel was going to be hard to get out of his head), the more he realized that he wanted to know if he could resist it himself.

All too soon he got his wish when he saw Moody's wand pointed in his direction and felt himself immediately compelled to jump up on the desk. A pleasantly calm feeling came over him as he felt himself begin to obey the silly little request. He would have done it too if a small voice in the back of his head began to question why he would do such a ridiculous thing. His reward for his momentary hesitation was a pair of bruised knees as he half fought against the command and slammed them into the desk mid jump.

With the calm euphoria lifting, he was surprised to hear Professor Moody loudly praising him and he allowed himself to be placed under the curse an additional three times until he could resist it entirely.

By the end of the class, he was feeling well pleased with himself and slightly smug. It was only when Hermione walked out behind him and smacked him in the back of the head that he realized that his godfather would probably not share the sentiments of his self-congratulations.

***********************

Family time.

There was nothing that Sirius enjoyed more, after a long day of inspiring young magical minds, than having a quiet sit down dinner with his godson. On more than one occasion, he had felt guilty about insisting that Harry come to his quarters every day for their evening meal together. After all, the young Gryffindor was the only student in the school who was under such a restriction.

Sirius justified his actions as being one of many that he was sure that the boy's parents would have surely smiled upon. As long as Sirius could remember, family dinner at the Potter household was a compulsory affair during the holidays and summers when he had accompanied James home. No matter where they were, or what they were doing, Dorea Potter expected her son and his friend home for dinner every night.

It was an unusual tradition for Sirius to grasp at first. No matter which nauseatingly opulent residence the Black family found themselves in, Sirius and his younger brother had never been allowed to dine with just their parents. The heir and the spare of the Black family had only been trotted out on special occasions to conform to the stringent requirements of dining ettiquette amongst the wizarding pure blood families. Only when there were guests to impress, were the sons of Orion allowed at the intentionally intimidating dining table with their socially oppressive parents. There they were required to keep perfectly quiet unless spoken to, eating with the impeccable manners that had been ritually beaten into them by their cold hearted mother.

This made for uncomfortable meal times, to say the least.

Sirius quickly learned that dinner at the Potter residence was a significantly different affair. There were jokes and laughter and a feeling of warmth. James' parents doted on him shamelessly and they soaked up his every word and grin with obvious affection. As Sirius became more and more a part of the family, they doted on him as well. When James' mother passed away in their sixth year, Sirius wondered if those times were gone. She had always seemed entirely responsible for the homey feeling that enveloped him like a warm blanket every time he went to stay.

He had been pleasantly surprised when the Potter household had lost none of its hospitality that summer. Although Charlus Potter obviously mourned for his beloved wife, he had always made a point to keep their evening meals together as jolly as they had ever been. A huge effort on his part that did not go unnoticed or unappreciated either by his son or the boy he thought of as a son.

After the boys had graduated, they still made a point of dining with Mr. Potter as often as they could. At times they would take turns if they could not both attend, just to make sure that he had as much regular company as possible. As James was intently pursuing Lily around this same time, Sirius wound up spending a great deal more time with Mr. Potter than his son had.

Sirius had appreciated this little tradition more and more as the dark days of war started to rage. Under immense and constant pressure from Orion Black to return to his rightful place and embrace the ideals that the Blacks had long cherished, Sirius began to rely more than ever on the steadfast support and comfort that was given to him by his surrogate dad during their quiet happy meals together. Charlus' unexpected death, just after James and Lily's marriage, struck a huge blow to Sirius and he grieved just as hard as James had for the only man he had ever considered to be a father.

With Mr. Potter's death, Sirius had thought that the happy dinners would come to an end but, once again, he was pleasantly surprised. The newlywed Lily picked up the mantle and the Potter family dinners continued for two more, all too brief, years.

It was with these memories in mind that Sirius looked forward to the nightly arrival of the youngest messy haired Potter that he adored.

It had not been an easy decision to let Harry come back to school this year. As the summer drew to a close, Sirius had not felt ready to let go of the boy that had only recently been given back to him. Besides the almost overwhelming desire to keep him under the abundantly protected safe haven of Celestial Court, he was feeling cheated out of time to spend with his godson, just being there for him.

The hour a day they spent at the dinner table, just the two of them, provided a much needed opportunity to continue weaving the fabric of family life.

***************

Harry was setting the table as Sirius stood at the small cabinet pouring a glass of wine for himself and a glass of milk for his godson. Harry was being far too quiet for his godfather's comfort. Usually full of humor and boundless energy, it was offsetting to see the boy so silent as he plonked down forks and knives next to the napkins. Sirius sighed deeply, knowing instinctively that there was something wrong with his godson. He only hoped that, whatever it was, he could help make it better. As he brought the beverages over, he reached out and ruffled Harry's spiked hair affectionately, giving the boy a large goofy grin to cheer him.

Once his evening chore was finished, Harry slid into his usual chair, forcing himself to return his godfather's smile, albeit, a much smaller version. Avoiding Sirius' probing gray eyes, he grabbed his milk glass and took a few prolonged swallows as a plate of roast, mashed potatoes and peas was placed in front of him. Sirius sat down across from him and attempted to make light hearted conversation with him for almost a quarter of an hour before finally pushing his plate away in frustration.

He watched as Harry slumped to one side with his head resting against his left arm propped up on the table as he used his right hand to trace train tracks in his potatoes with his fork. Obviously, there would be no teenaged chatter at the table tonight.

"Alright, out with it. What's got your tongue this evening?"

Harry looked up, a bit startled. He hadn't realized just how transparent his actions were. Ever since he had arrived in Sirius' quarters, he had been focusing all his attention on the best way to confess to what had happened during his DADA class. He realized, just a little too late, that his inattention to his godfather had probably just made the situation even worse.

He sat up a little straighter and dropped his fork with a high pitched _clang_ against the plate. There was nothing for it but to just spit it all out.

"I have to tell you something," he began cautiously, biting his lower lip in concentration.

Sirius lifted an eyebrow in expectation. He already knew that his godson would be unburdening himself with something this evening. He nodded gently and gave the boy an encouraging smile, silently promising to listen to him.

Harry chewed a little more forcefully on his cheek and picked the fork back up. He dropped his gaze back down to his plate and began to draw figure eights in the uneaten mound of potatoes. "But you have to swear that you won't get..._how you get_. At least until you completely hear me out."

Sirius was confused for a second and then realized that Harry was asking him to control his temper. When Harry flicked his eyes back up at him, Sirius nodded slowly, anxious to give the boy reassurance. "Okay, Harry. Go on. You can tell me."

Harry looked slightly wary for a moment. Sirius held his gaze and the warmth in his gray eyes finally convinced his godson to proceed. The boy sat back up straight, returned the fork to his plate and blew out a sharp breath.

"Professor Moody did a demonstration today of the Imperious curse," he stated quietly before closing his eyes and waiting for the explosion that was surely to come his way.

Sirius held his breath and counted to ten. It had become all too clear why his devious child had insisted on a promise to keep his temper. But, promise he had, so instead he channelled all of his energy into staying in his chair and not charging down the corridors to blow Alastor up into little tiny unidentifiable pieces.

Sitting in his chair, now extremely uncomfortable in the scarily quiet presence of his godfather, Harry began to fidget nervously. Such intense silence from the man never boded well for Harry. It was a fair few tense moments later before Sirius spoke again, with a tone in his voice that promised someone murder.

"Spiders again?" he asked, as he clamped his eyes shut in swelling agitation. Harry could almost feel a crackling in the air as the anger radiated off of Sirius' motionless form.

"No, sir," he whispered. His godfather opened his eyes and glared at him, wordlessly expecting a prompt explanation. Harry swallowed loudly as he struggled to find his voice.

"Students. Myself included."

Harry watched in horror as Sirius bent the fork in his hand into a mangled mess. Of course he had known that his godfather would be upset, but obviously he had seriously miscalculated how upset that was actually going to be. Panicking, he tried to reason with the man.

"Sirius, if you would just listen..."

"Quiet," his godfather ordered in a tone that brook no defiance. Harry's jaw snapped shut from the abruptness of the harsh command. Sirius never spoke to him that way.

He watched his godfather put his elbows up on the table and drop his head into his hands as he rubbed his face furiously. In the absence of the scolding that he had been steeling himself to receive, Harry began to grow irate at what he felt to be an over-reaction on his godfather's part. No one had been harmed, after all. It had all been rather fun and Harry was quite pleased with himself for being able to fight it off. He knitted his eyebrows and began to fume.

"It wasn't all that bad, we just...."

Sirius shot up from the table and balled his hands at his sides. "Go to your room, Harry."

Harry was now fuming at his godfather's reaction. It wasn't fair that Sirius wasn't even going to let him explain and he hated being sent to his room like a three year old. Stubbornly, he stayed in his chair and crossed his arms in defiance. "Can't I just say..."

He got no further. Sirius had reached over and hauled him to his feet. Harry flinched involuntarily, waiting for the inevitable prodding smack that he usually received in this kind of situation, but it didn't come. Instead his godfather leaned over and brought his face right next to Harry's ear.

"_Now," _he commanded quietly, in a voice so icy cold that Harry actually had chills go up his spine.

Harry didn't have the courage to look at the irate man's face again, so he cautiously pulled his arm away from Sirius' loose grasp and hurried away into his room. Once inside, he briefly toyed with the idea of slamming his door in temper, but wisely thought better of it. There was no need to provoke his godfather any further tonight. It didn't stop him from flopping onto his bed, still quite a bit miffed over the idea of being dismissed without even having been able to give his side of the story. Usually his godfather was very understanding and fair and Harry was just as hurt as he was angry over the way Sirius had treated him.

***

In the living room, Sirius agitatedly wore a path into the carpet as he paced. He knew that he needed to get his anger under control before speaking any further with his godson. In the state he was in, he would not be able to discuss anything rationally with the boy and Harry deserved better than that. Obviously his little chat with Alastor had been for naught. Merlin, that man had some nerve.

Harry just did not seem to understand what kind of danger he had allowed himself to be put into. Sirius really had believed that his godson understood the importance of informing him of another demonstration. Even it if had been similar to the first, there was still some danger to the safety of the students. That was the reason why there had been no live demonstration of the Unforgivables in school since long before Sirius' own time as a student.

He couldn't believe his godson's blatant disobedience in this matter. Did the boy not have an ounce of self preservation? Resignedly, he sat down heavily on the couch and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He had been hoping against hope that he had been wrong about Alastor's mental state, however, it appeared that he had spoken too soon on the matter. Measures were going to have to be taken. And soon.

He spent the next fifteen minutes regulating his breathing and calming his temper. When he went into Harry's room, he wanted to be clear minded and calm. Surely his godson had a reason for his inaction. It wouldn't save him from being punished completely but, depending on the circumstances, Sirius was willing to show a little mercy. He would be rational and patient and hear the boy out. And _then_ he was going to paddle Harry's disobedient little backside.

Course of action plotted out, he took deep cleansing breath and squared his shoulders as he made his way to his godson's bedroom. He rapped softly on the door twice and entered when he heard the less than enthusiastic 'come in'.

Harry was laying back on his bed when his godfather knocked and he pulled himself up into a sitting position when the man entered the room. Immediately, he crossed his arms and exuded an annoyed and defiant air. The minutes that Sirius had taken to collect himself had only served as fuel for the fire of Harry's indignation and the boy was looking for a fight when his godfather came over and sat down on the bed next to him.

Sirius put an arm around Harry's shoulders and gave him a small squeeze. "Okay, tell me what happened."

Angry over what he saw as his godfather's attempt to patronize him, Harry glared. "Oh, now I'm allowed to speak?"

Sirius' buried anger began to resurface at his godson's obvious cheek. "Young man, do you have any idea of how much trouble you are in right now? You would be wise to drop the attitude and speak to me with the respect that I deserve. I promised to hear you out, and I will. I'm sorry to have taken a few minutes, but I needed to calm down before I could listen to any explanations rationally. There is no need to be so cheeky with me."

The stern tone in his godfather's voice somewhat quenched Harry's temper and he bit back a snotty retort. Looking at Sirius' grim face which held none of the usual mischief, Harry did, in fact, realize the hot water he was currently boiling in and lowered his eyes. "Sorry," he whispered.

Sirius nodded and tapped Harry's chin to raise his head back up. "Let's try this again. What happened, Harry?"

Harry took a deep breath. He was still inwardly seething, but he would try to explain to his godfather why he had felt it necessary to let the lesson continue.

"Professor Moody announced that he was going to cast the Imperious curse on each of us so, if we were ever in a tough spot, we would know what to expect. He said that some people can fight it off. I wanted to know if I was one of them," he finished simply.

Sirius just stared at him and shook his head slightly. "Do you know how dangerous that was for you? Moody could have made you do anything he wanted. He could have forced you to injure yourself or another student. This is not a game, Harry James. You can't play around like this. There is a reason why Hogwarts professor stopped giving demonstrations like this."

Harry's neck and ears started to smart from the stern scolding. He hated it when his godfather treated him like a child.

"I know, Sirius. But I was paying attention. He was only making us do silly things. Nothing harmful. If I thought that we were in trouble, I would have come straight to you, I swear."

Sirius shook his head in agitation. "I told you that you were to get me immediately if something like this happened. I don't believe that my instructions left any room for debate or interpretation."

Harry huffed in extreme annoyance. "I was handling it, Sirius. I was ready to leave the minute something happened."

Sirius took Harry by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Harry, your DADA professors have not had the best track record. The first two tried to kill you, for Merlin's sake. When I tell you to do something for your own good, I have a reason for it. I'm your guardian and you will obey me, case closed."

Harry pulled his arms out of Sirius' hold and glared at him defiantly. "I'm not a child, Sirius. I can take care of myself. Besides, I thought Professor Moody was your friend. I'm not afraid of him."

Sirius frowned at the willful boy. "You are still a child, Harry. _My_ child, and I will protect you as I see fit," he stated firmly. Harry dropped his glare and focused on the floor as Sirius attempted to once again rein in his ire. "As for Professor Moody, you are right. He was my friend. A trusted one at that."

Sirius stared off towards the wall, a look of melancholy taking over his countenance. "But that was a long time ago. He is no longer the man that I knew and I don't trust him with you. I told you this before."

He had, Harry admitted. The day he had given his instructions to get out of the class if Moody acted suspiciously again. Harry knew that he was in the wrong today, but he was hurt now, as well as upset and he refused to admit it. He didn't think that it was entirely fair that Sirius was treating him like a little boy. Harry wanted to know if he could throw off the curse, and now he had found out. In his eyes, the lesson had been very instructional indeed and he wasn't going to apologize for it.

"I wanted to know if I could do it, Sirius. And now, I do. I thought you would be happy about it. Isn't it a good thing?" he asked, frustration and hurt in his eyes.

Sirius sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. "I'm glad that you can, Harry. Most wizards cannot, and _yes_, it is a good thing. But it doesn't change the fact that you disobeyed me when I had given you firm instructions that I deemed necessary for your safety. I need to trust that you will follow my instructions, regardless of what you may think yourself. Anything I tell you is for your safety."

Sirius ducked his head to stare into his godson's vivid emerald eyes, looking at him with all the love he could muster. "I need to trust you, Harry, to obey me the next time that you get into a bad situation. You didn't do that today, even though I told you how important it was."

Harry knew that he should be feeling guilty about his actions, but he didn't. No matter what his godfather said, he felt that he had accomplished something important during the lesson. It was just too bad for Sirius if he couldn't see that. He crossed his arms and stared at the crimson bed cover, refusing to meet his godfather's sad eyes.

Sirius let out a deep breath as he steeled himself for the hard part. Earlier this summer he had promised Harry and himself as to what the consequences for endangering himself would be for his godson. He didn't want to, but he knew that he had to. He couldn't afford to send his godson mixed signals when he was putting his well being in jeopardy needlessly.

"Do you have anything else to say, Harry?" he asked, not unkindly. Harry bit his lower lip in agitation, but shook his head in the negative.

Sirius nodded in acceptance. He pulled out his wand and tapped one of the books on Harry's dresser, transfiguring it into the dreaded paddle that Harry hated. The minute the boy saw it, his eyes grew wide and he shot to his feet.

"NO," he spat out furiously. Harry had expected another grounding maybe for his defiance. He didn't even think about the possibility that his godfather would punish him any other way. "It's not fair, Sirius. I just wanted to see if I could do it. No one got hurt and I was never in any danger."

Sirius gave him a sad look and shook his head. "I beg to differ, Harry," he said quietly. "You put yourself in a great deal of danger today by allowing someone else to control your mind. If you had not been able to throw it off, the results could have been devastating. You know what your punishment is for endangering yourself. I believe I have made that quite clear in the past."

Harry just stood there shaking his head back and forth, refusing to submit. His godfather was being monstrously unfair and he would not agree to a paddling. Sirius waited for a moment, hoping that the boy would acknowledge his wrong doing, but Harry just stood there defiantly, and finally, Sirius had to reach out and grab his wrist to pull him closer.

Harry resisted as much as he dared. Even in his stubborn state, he knew that there was only just so much nonsense that his godfather was going to put up with and, after a fair amount of posturing, he allowed himself to be pulled over his godfather's lap. Hurt and humiliated, he shut his eyes as he grabbed at the bed covers and tried to concentrate on something besides the burning swats that were finding their way across his backside with lightening speed. All too quickly, hot tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down to the floor as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. When he couldn't hold back any longer, he let out a choking breath and sobbed quietly until his godfather's hand ceased to fall.

Sirius looked down at the sniffling boy draped across his lap and began to gently rub his back. It never got any easier to discipline his beloved child, nor should it, he knew. It should always be a hard decision to make. Every smack across Harry's backside hurt Sirius as painfully as if he was receiving them himself. He was sure that he had been just as anxious as Harry to get the job finished but he needed to make sure that Harry would think twice before engaging in this kind of reckless behavior again.

When Harry's sobs had quieted, Sirius lifted him to his feet and pulled him against his chest. The boy stubbornly refused to uncross his arms and return the hug, but Sirius felt him lean into it tiredly, so he accepted that Harry was nursing a pretty sore ego as well as a sore behind right then and just held him tighter.

After a few minutes of hiccuping, Harry pulled away, his eyes still refusing to make contact with his godfather's. They stood there in silence for another moment before he finally spoke.

"Are you still mad?"

Sirius grimaced. In all honesty, he was a little, but it was receding quickly now, being fast replaced with worry. "No, no really. Will you promise to obey me if this happens again?"

Harry frowned, but he nodded. "Yes, sir."

Sirius sighed and reached out to cup Harry's face with his hand. "Okay, then. Let's just put it behind us now."

He noticed Harry's pinched look and tired red rimmed eyes. Harry usually crawled into bed after being punished, emotionally and physically drained. But he had barely touched his dinner and his godfather worried about him getting enough to eat. He was so small and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Do you want to finish your dinner? I could warm it up for you if you like?" he offered as he put his arm around the small burdend shoulders. Harry shook his head slightly.

"I'm tired. I just want to go to sleep if that's alright," he whispered.

Sirius rubbed his back and nodded. "Okay. Why don't you get changed for bed and I'll come back in a few minutes to tell you good night." He gave Harry a quick squeeze and turned to leave the room, but Harry's voice stopped him.

"Am I grounded too?"

Turning back, he looked unhappily at the forlorn figure in front of the bed. "No, I don't think that's necessary. Why?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

Harry scuffed his black heavy shoe across the small throw rug. "May I go back to my dorm, then?"

Sirius took a second, trying to suppress the hurt feeling. He reminded himself that he had promised Harry as much of a normal life at school as possible, so he nodded his consent. "Okay. If you would like."

Harry nodded. "I promised Ron and Hermione that I would be back tonight, if I was allowed," he uttered quietly, wiping away the rest of his tears on the sleeve of his school jumper.

Sirius watched his godson go back into the living room. Harry reached over the back of the sofa and gathered up his robe and pulled it on, aware that his godfather was coming up behind him carrying his book bag. Sirius handed it to the boy reluctantly. He would really have preferred to have Harry with him tonight, but he wasn't going to push it.

"I could write a permission note for you to be out in the corridors after hours if you think you might need to come back tonight," he offered, still concerned.

Harry shook his head as he walked towards the door. "No, thanks. I just want to go to bed, Sirius."

Sirius sighed as he took the boy into his embrace again. Harry stood stiff, but he allowed it. He was still injured by Sirius' reaction earlier, but he didn't want to make the same mistake he had in the summer by hurting his godfather with a refusal. He was mad at the man, but he still loved him very much. He compromised by resting his head on his godfather's chest for a minute before pulling away.

Sirius reluctantly released him, but he cupped the side of the tear stained face in his right hand. "I love you, Harry. I don't like having to do that to you. You know that, don't you?" he asked worriedly.

Harry nodded. He knew that it was just as hard on his godfather as it was on him. He still didn't feel as if he had earned it though. "I know, Sirius. Good night."

He turned and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. Sirius watched him go with sad eyes. "Good night, little one," he whispered.

Family time. It wasn't always tea and cake, he reminded himself.

***********

As Harry dashed down the circular staircase, he winced repeatedly from the lingering sting on his behind. Every step he took only made him more furious at what he felt was a real injustice. He knew that his godfather would be upset, but he was so angry at how upset he became. It was completely ridiculous. Harry felt as if Sirius didn't trust his judgment. He had thought better of his godfather.

He stomped determinedly through the nearly empty corridors, paying no attention to the other students who were scurrying just as quickly as he was. Curfew was fast approaching and very few of the students wanted to be caught out after hours.

Upon reaching the portrait hole for the Gryffindor common room, he was decidedly irate again and nearly was denied entry when he barked the password along with a few other colorful expletives at the Fat Lady when she insisted that he listen to her nails on chalkboard voice finish the aria she had been butchering on his approach. Only after hissing an apology through clenched teeth was he allowed inside.

Once inside, he made his way over to the sofa where Ron and Hermione were sitting with their Charms homework. Hermione saw him first and stood up quickly to greet him. In all honesty, neither one of them had expected to see Harry that evening. Sirius wasn't known for his sense of humor when it came to Harry's disobedience and they had just assumed that he would have been required to stay up in the astronomy tower that night.

Ron, looking in the direction that Hermione was now fixated on, smiled at seeing his best friend approach them. Hermione stopped smiling as Harry got closer and she saw his red rimmed eyes. It didn't take her genius IQ to know what had happened to their friend.

"Alright, Harry?" she asked, concerned. She wasn't going to mention anything else. She would never embarrass him like that.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I'm okay." He hefted his bag off of his shoulder and slipped out of his robe. He thought about plopping down on the sofa next to them, but then thought better of it and leaned against the arm instead.

Ron looked up at him in sympathy. "Was he mad?" Harry shot him a look that clearly said 'what, are you joking?'. Ron wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, right."

Harry let out a loud huff.

"I mean, what was the problem? It's not like anyone got hurt. I was being careful. You would think that I had gone out and jabbed my wand in Voldemort's..._stop it_, _Ron_...eye by the way he reacted," he growled.

Ever practical, Hermione pointed out the obvious. "I don't think that was the point, Harry. Sirius just doesn't seem to trust Professor Moody. You should have just done what he asked. You know he had his reasons."

The words sounded harsh, but they were meant with sympathy. Unfortunately, Harry was in no mood to discern the difference and he shot Hermione a nasty look. On top of Sirius' reaction, the mild dressing down he had just received from his long time friend made him bristle in a way that he had never been with her before.

"Oh, thanks a lot, Hermione. I thought you were supposed to be on my side," he snapped.

Hermione frowned at the bitterness in his voice. "I _am_ on your side, Harry. I just don't want to see you get into the kind of trouble you got into tonight for no reason."

"No reason?" he shouted, a bit too loudly for either of the other two's taste. "I didn't do it for no reason. I wanted to see if I could throw off the curse and now I know I can. For Merlin's sake! Why isn't anybody happy about that except for me?"

Hermione gave him an exasperated look and took a deep calming breath.

"Of course we are happy for you, Harry. But if you were really that concerned about it, surely Sirius could have found a way to test you himself instead of you disregarding what he told you to do."

She really was on Harry's side and was starting to feel hurt that he didn't seem to appreciate it. It didn't skirt the notice of either Ron or herself that their best friend was a walking target and both had agreed that it would do him some good to be just a little more cautious. Harry was brave but, sometimes, he could be just a bit too reckless as well.

Harry snorted. "Oh, just brilliant, Hermione. Thanks for the support. I'll thank you to not but your nose into my business with my godfather, though."

He saw her face flush bright red, but she managed to turn away before he could see the tears that had sprung up into her eyes. Grabbing her books from the table, she started for the girl's dormitory. "Fine," she snapped, he voice watery.

Harry watched her go feeling a bit guilty. He had not meant to bite her head off. He was about to call out to her to apologize when Ron stood up and towered over him, an unfamiliar look of anger spread entirely across his red face.

"That's not on, Harry. She didn't do anything to you. There was no reason to make her cry like that," he barked uncharacteristically.

Harry took severe umbrage at his mate's demeanor. Remembering the times that Ron had upset Hermione when Harry had stood by neutrally, he inwardly seethed over what he saw as an overt hypocritical betrayal on Ron's part.

"Oh, just sod off, Ron! Like you have always been _perfectly sweet _to Hermione. What about Halloween first year? We almost all got killed by the troll for that. What about all the times you upset her when you accused Crookshanks of trying to kill your rat? Only, it wasn't a rat, was it? It was the man that betrayed _my_ parents. I don't think I ever properly thanked you for _that, _by the way!"

Ron reeled back as if slapped. He blinked rapidly, crushed by overwhelming guilt over the very true reminder of how he and his family had unknowingly harbored a mass murderer in their home for years. A murderer who had turned out to be the man that destroyed his best friend's life. His mouth hung open as he tried to form words that wouldn't come. It was an unfair attack and they both knew it.

Harry stood in front of him, shaking a little from his spent rage and frustration. Ron was wounded by his friend's cutting remarks, but he felt compelled to justify Hermione's words. He was feeling oddly protective of her lately and it had upset him to see the tears in her eyes that she had hidden from Harry.

"She knew how important it was to Sirius, Harry. That's all," he said finally, his voice unsure and unsteady.

By this point, Harry was wallowing in guilt, but he was also feeling very abandoned. It seemed as if he were standing all alone against everyone's wrath over the incident. His godfather and both of his friends failing to see the significance of his day's accomplishment.

"Yeah, well maybe you should have just gone and told Sirius yourself, then," he spat out bitterly. "After all, you two are so close these days."

With that, he turned and stomped up the stairs to the dorm, leaving a speechless Ron behind.

*******

Sleep would not come to either Harry or Sirius that night.

In his quarters, Sirius tossed and turned, his mind fraught with worry and guilt. He spent hours second guessing his actions in every aspect. Should he have gone to Dumbledore right away with his suspicions of Alastor's unstableness? Should he have insisted that Harry be removed from the class? Did he fly off the handle too far upon hearing the story of the day's lesson? Had he been too hasty or too harsh in spanking his godson? Should he go to Harry and check on him? Should he stomp into Alastor's quarters and transfigure him into an ottoman? Or should he just go into the living room and drain the rest of the bottle of firewhiskey?

In the end, he had settled for none of the above. He did have an extremely tense fire call with Albus who promised to have more than a word with Alastor regarding his teaching methods. Sirius had the headmaster's word that the students would not be the exposed to the Unforgivables again during Alastor's tenure there. He also had a supportive fire call with Remus who had assured him that he had acted properly and promised to come and spend the weekend with them as Friday was going to be a full moon.

Pacing across the cold floor of his bedroom, he refrained from going to the Gryffindor dorm and assuring himself that Harry was fine. Remus had told him very firmly that he should not be consumed with guilt over his determination to provide Harry with consistency. Regardless of the boy's motives, he had disobeyed. Case closed. Sirius agreed with him on one level, but it still made him sick to his stomach to have to carry things like that out. He loved Harry so much and he would do whatever it took to impress upon the boy how important it was to follow rules when it came to his safety.

Uneasily, he finally fell asleep.

**

In the Gryffindor dorm, Harry was lying on his side in his bed, the curtains drawn and a silencing spell cast. After he had stomped up the stairs, he lunged onto the bed and closed the drapes, wanting neither to see or speak to anyone for the rest of the evening. He would have liked to have gone back to Sirius' quarters after his fight with both of his friends, but he was too upset and ashamed.

He pulled off his clothes and shoes and crawled under the blankets in only his undershirt and pants. In defiance of his godfather's oft repeated bedtime instructions, he stubbornly refused to even brush his teeth. A small act of rebellion that wouldn't hurt anyone but himself, but he felt just a little bit better for it.

As the hours passed by, his temper calmed and he began to think about what he had said and done that day. In the end he knew that the only reason why he had been so angry with everyone was because he had felt incredibly guilty over disobeying his godfather's instructions.

Of course Sirius was concerned about him. It was his job as his guardian to act as such. Uncomfortably, he reminded himself about the magical sealing. Sirius would do anything to protect him. With his mind a little more clear, Harry realized that there had been a very high chance that he would not have been able to throw off the curse.

What then? What if Moody really was evil and had made Harry do something unspeakable, like hurting Sirius? Or Ron or Hermione? What if Harry had been powerless to stop it?

He rolled over onto his back and could feel the last twinges of soreness from his punishment. He hated it and he hated Sirius when he was doling it out but, deep down, he knew that he had deserved it. Even if he had not wanted to admit it before, he knew it and he knew how much Sirius hated doing it to him.

Right then and there he decided that he needed to go and properly apologize to his godfather who surely was feeling miserable right about now as he always did whenever Harry forced him to exert his authority.

Sadly, he realized that he should have taken Sirius up on his offer of the permission note. It was too late to be wandering the corridors and his father's invisibility cloak was in his room in Sirius' quarters. It would have to wait until morning.

A cold flash of pain hit his stomach like a bucket of ice cubes as he remembered how he had treated his friends as well. He would need to make amends with Ron and Hermione in the morning as well. It probably wouldn't be easy.

Grimacing, he pulled the blanket up to his shoulder and prayed for sleep to overtake him.

*******

Before it was even first light, Harry had quietly drawn back his bed hangings to see the sleeping faces of the four other boys in the dorm room. On tiptoes, he gently pulled on his bathrobe and eased a fresh uniform and underclothes out of his trunk as he made his way stealthily towards the boy's bathroom. Once inside, he took a long hot soothing shower and afterwards scrubbed his teeth with extra vigor to make up for his petulant lack of attention the night before.

Easing his way out of the Gryffindor common room, he practically sprinted to the other side of the castle and climbed up the stairs of the astronomy tower, two at a time in his hurry to get to his godfather's residence. Hesitating briefly at the door, he finally summoned his courage and pushed it open to see his godfather at the table drinking a large mug of coffee. The man's eyes were blood shot from a lack of sleep and his face was pale and drawn. A sharp stab of guilt hit Harry in the stomach, knowing that it was his fault that the man was so upset.

"Harry?" Sirius said in surprise and concern as he rose to his feet. "Are you okay? Has something happened?"

Harry stood with his back pressed against the closed door and fidgeted nervously as he slowly shook his head. "No. I'm fine."

Sirius approached him slowly, his eyebrows knitted in worry. It wasn't like his godson to appear in his quarters at such an ungodly hour. Harry hated being up early in the morning.

"I'm happy to see you, Harry, but why are you here so early?" he asked kindly.

Harry looked into the gray eyes of his godfather and saw only warmth and concern there. He wasn't mad anymore and it comforted the boy enough to throw his arms around the tall man.

"I'm sorry about yesterday, Sirius," he said miserably. "I should have done what you told me to do. I just thought I could handle it myself."

Sirius held him tightly and rubbed his back as he hushed him. "There there, now. It's okay. Don't be upset about it any longer."

He led them both over to the couch and they sat down, Sirius' left arm still encircling Harry's shoulders.

"You look tired, little one. Did you get any sleep at all?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. I wanted to come back, but I didn't want to upset you anymore if I got caught out in the corridors. It wasn't an emergency like with my nightmare. I doubt that Snape would have been so forgiving a second time and, as for Filch, forget about it."

Sirius drew him closer and soothed him. "You can always come here, Harry. Day or night. Don't worry about getting into trouble for it. I'll take care of it."

Harry nodded gratefully as he rested his head against Sirius' neck.

"I am sorry, Sirius. I just really needed to know if I could do it. I'm sorry I disobeyed you."

Sirius frowned. That was the third time that Harry had professed such an insistence on needing to know if he could throw off the curse. This was obviously not a casual interest anymore.

"Why, Harry? Why did you need to know so badly?"

He felt Harry's breathing still for a moment and it scared him. This was really not a casual matter, at all. Finally, Harry took in a deep breath.

"In my night visions, I can feel the effects of the cruciatus curse," he began in a dull tone. "I know that, if I ever get taken prisoner, I can stand the pain if I have to. But I needed to know if I could throw off the imperious." Sirius held him tighter as his body began to shake. "I needed to know that I would never be forced to hurt the people that I love just because it might be fun for some death eater to see what he could make Harry Potter do."

Sirius held him so tight it was almost uncomfortable. It was killing him that his young godson had to think this way. In moments like this, Sirius channelled his anger and frustration and tucked it away into a private place in his mind. If they kept building up like this, he was sure that he would be capable of destroying Voldemort with a single glare long before that monstrous scum ever laid eyes on his precious boy ever again.

"You could have told me this, Harry," he assured the boy in a quivering voice. "I would have helped you. I will _always_ help you. All you need do, is ask."

Harry pressed his face into his godfather's shirt, comforted by the familiar smell of his aftershave. The scent always made him feel safe and protected. "I know. I should have. I'm sorry."

Sirius held him until it was time to go to the great hall for breakfast. Soothed and significantly more calm, he warily approached the Gryffindor table and spent several minutes grovelling out apologies to his best friends.

He apologized profusely for snapping at Hermione and when he went to make amends with Ron for the awful things he had said, the affable redhead just waved him off. Hermione was smiling again and that was good enough for him.

The three had been friends through thick and thin. They didn't make it too hard for him.

*****

In the rotting manor house, the kneeling figure prostrated himself before the oozing lump in the molding chair.

"He can overcome it, my lord. He's already very strong," the man said shakily, anticipating the excruciating wrath that was surely headed his way.

"Unfortunate," the disembodied voice hissed. "For all of us."

The creature in the chair purred in twisted contentment for several minutes watching his servant writhe in pain on the decaying floor in front of him.


	11. Chapter 11

This chapter is for curlybean who gave me a kindly worded but well deserved smack on the nose for making everyone wait so long, lol. In my defense, I didn't even realize that it had been over a week since I last posted.

Big hugs to my favorite ER nurse! As a special thank you, the next chapter is chock full of Remus. (I promise it won't take as long :p)

************

The nervous fourteen year old boy hid shyly behind the large stacks of thick dusty books. He quietly and carefully pulled one aside and peered through the small triangular opening, searching for the object of his desire.

He saw her, just feet away, sitting at one of the small wooden tables. As usual, she was bent over a pile of heavy volumes, in rapt concentration, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder as she chewed the end of her quill. Feeling slightly guilty over his stalker-like behavior, he flushed slightly, but he didn't avert his gaze.

Had she always been this pretty? He had known her for quite some time already, but it had only been a recent development in his mind to take notice of her with any kind of real interest. Only lately had he realized that when she looked at him a certain way his heart beat a little faster.

It had become a habit of his to carefully steal furtive glances at her while she studied. She spent a lot of time in the library. No small wonder as he had always known how smart she was. In all honesty, it was safe to say that he had spent more time in the library this term than he had in the previous three years combined.

What exactly did _that_ mean?

He watched as she rose from her seat to slip into another row of stacks, a small piece of parchment in her hand, a look of intense concentration on her face as she searched for another book. She frowned slightly as she had trouble locating the desired tome, her pert little nose wrinkling in frustration.

The enamored boy smiled broadly. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen.

He peeked his head around the corner of his stack to get a better look at her. Briefly, he entertained the idea of approaching her and offering to help search for the stubborn material. Any excuse to be near her without suspicion was welcome, but he noticed sadly that, after another minute of scanning the shelves, she saw what she had been looking for and pulled it away in triumph.

_Oh well. Some other time._

He sighed and shifted slightly, resuming his perch behind the safety of the shielding volumes. He could have happily stayed there all afternoon, just watching her as she furiously scribbled notes. Of course, the most natural thing in the world would have been for him to just walk over and join her. She wouldn't have refused him, he knew. They were friends, after all. But, somehow, the idea frightened him and he took greater comfort in admiring her from afar in this way.

Unfortunately, luck was not shining on him today. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed, with dismay, the arrival of his best friend who had seen him immediately.

"Harry!" Ron called loudly, earning him a scathing glare from Madam Pince. The redhead flushed from the silent reprimand and strode over to Harry, who was extricating himself from his viewing spot, reluctantly accepting that his presence was outed. Ruefully, he stole a glance at Cho who had raised her head from her books at the sound of his name. She smiled at him, her beautiful eyes twinkling as he walked past her and towards his very loud mate.

Grinning stupidly, he gave her a little wave of acknowledgement and hurried next to Ron before the loud Weasley did something else to make their presence a little more obtrusive. As he reached Ron, Harry frowned in annoyance for a moment before reining in his agitation. It wasn't his friend's fault that Harry had decided to spy on the girl he didn't have the guts to speak to directly.

"Hey Ron," he greeted, as quietly as he could. "What are you doing here?"

Ron looked at him a little suspiciously. "I'm meeting Hermione, of course. What do you think I'm doing in the library?"

It was a fair question. The boys had never entered the room willingly on their own just for studying purposes the entire time they had been at school. Ron narrowed his eyes in concentration as he stared at Harry.

"What are you doing in here?"

Harry blushed at the question. He wasn't ready to tell anyone about his infatuation just yet.

"I..errr..I'm..Sirius is making me study here for a half hour every day until we have our Transfiguration exam," he lied uneasily, feeling a little guilty that he had to invoke his godfather's name as an excuse.

"Oh." If Ron noticed his friend's obvious discomfort, he didn't say anything. "Rotten luck, mate. Having your godfather as a professor. When it comes to studying, I mean."

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, well, it's okay. I have been getting better grades this term." It was true that he had. In an effort to please his godfather, Harry had been studying significantly more diligently than in previous years.

The boys ambled towards an empty table, not far from where Cho was still sitting, and waited for Hermione's arrival. It didn't take too long before the breathless brunette flew into the library and unloaded her bag and arms onto the table in a flurry of parchment and quills.

"I really love my Arithmency lessons!" she stated, for the millionth time, Harry thought.

He smiled a little at her enthusiasm and briefly wondered how much Cho liked Arithmency. He stole a furtive glance over at her and was surprised to see her looking at him. Embarrassed, he quickly turned away and flushed again for the umpteenth time that day. Ron had been watching him, so he looked over and saw what had caught Harry's attention. Turning back to his friend in confusion, he was startled to see Harry look so flustered.

"Harry, why is Cho Chang staring at you?" he asked innocently.

Harry's face went two shades of red deeper in color as he busied himself with one of Hermione's books. All of a sudden, the study of Ancient Runes seemed to be utterly fascinating to him.

"Uh..I..I don't know," he stammered. "Maybe she's looking at something behind me."

Ron didn't say anything to Harry to indicate that he didn't believe his answer, he just shrugged and went back to his Quidditch book. Hermione, however, gave Harry a thoughtful look before smiling briefly at him knowingly and returning to the essay she had begun to work on.

Harry watched Hermione for a moment and then chuckled softy at her intense concentration. "Merlin, Hermione. It's your birthday. Don't you think you deserve even one day off from your studies?" he teased, watching her blush, the traces of a small smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

"Well, as the two of you are making me celebrate it tonight, I have to study now. Professor Vector didn't care that I'm another year older today when he assigned us all of this homework," she said with an air of disdain although, inwardly, she was quite pleased with fuss her friends were making.

For the next half an hour, Harry and Cho silently, and somewhat unknowingly, flirted with each other across the room. Harry had absolutely no experience with the fairer sex other than his friendship with Hermione. He wasn't sure as to what exactly he was feeling, but it felt nice anyway, if a bit confusing and frustrating.

As for Cho, a pretty girl all her life, she was used to brash and confident boys approaching her and didn't know what to make of the shy Gryffindor. Harry was cute, famous, wealthy and a bit of an enigma. He was always nice, his bravery was legend and he didn't seem to realize how much the other students were awed by him. She found that she liked that last aspect about him the most. With his past and notoriety, it would have been so easy for him to have a big head, but he just didn't seem to.

Every now and then, Hermione would catch a glimpse of one of them staring at the other out of the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself. It would do Harry good to act like a normal teen for awhile and Cho seemed to be a nice girl. Hermione was well pleased for her friend. Now all she had to do was push him a little bit. Knowing Harry as well as she did, she doubted that he would act on his own.

Harry looked at his watch and noticed that it was getting late. He gathered his things and began packing them into his bag.

"I have to get going. I told Sirius I would be there by now."

He pulled on his robe and grabbed his bag. Bravely he shot one more glance over to Cho, who was once again looking his way and smiling. He ducked his head slightly and grinned back shyly as his bid his friends goodbye and sprinted towards the astronomy tower.

****************

Sirius was in a right state when his godson arrived to help put up a few colorful decorations for Hermione's small dinner party.

They had wanted to take her out of school to someplace fun for the evening, but McGonagall wouldn't allow it because it was a Monday. It was different when Sirius took Harry to London because his guardianship overruled the school rules, but for him to take Harry, Hermione and Ron out gallivanting during the school week was just not on.

Sirius had just returned from yet another meeting with the headmaster. Albus assured him that he had had a very stern chat with Alastor regarding his behavior. Sirius didn't need to be a Legilimens to know that there were several key parts of the conversation that he wasn't being informed of and he didn't like it one bit.

He had promised Albus that he would keep his temper in check if Alastor's behavior was curtailed via official school channels. But, having received no credible reassurance that the matter was well in hand, his mind was whirring with possible ideas of how to get to the bottom of matters himself. He had given Albus his word that he would not approach Alastor directly unless he felt that Harry or any of the other students or any of the faculty members were in immediate danger.

In hindsight, this was proving to be one of his poorer decisions, of which he had made many in his life.

He heard someone fumbling at the door and thought it was Harry. He was surprised to see Remus enter, carrying a large armload of parcels and bags. He was still looking a little pale as it was only a couple of days since the full moon. He rushed over to relieve the tired man of his colorful burdens and set them all on the couch.

"I didn't think you were coming back, Moony," he exclaimed, surprised but pleased. Remus had just left yesterday afternoon after accompanying Sirius, Harry and Ron to Hogsmeade and had stated his intention to take a couple of days to himself in the sweet little house that Sirius had built for him on the grounds of Celestial Court. "What changed your mind?"

That had been another row between them. Sirius knew how much Remus liked his privacy. He was a quiet homebody by nature, but Sirius couldn't stand the idea of his best friend being too far away so he had commissioned the stone cottage within a short walk of the main house as a gift for Remus. Remus' own small house was literally falling down around his ears no matter how much he tried to maintain it. It was desperately overdue for a decent renovation and Sirius had finally strong-armed him into allowing it. Just last week, the wary werewolf had moved some of his things over to the new residence and this was to be his first time staying there. Obviously he had changed his mind.

Remus opened his mouth to answer the question, when Harry burst through the door.

"Sorry, I'm late!" he called to his godfather as he dashed into his room and threw his things on his bed. He happily pealed off his uniform and donned his favorite T shirt and well worn jeans. Harry hated his scratchy school jumpers with a passion.

Sirius looked expectantly at Remus who only shook his head and shifted his eyes towards Harry's bedroom. _Later_, he mouthed silently.

"I decided that I didn't want to miss the festivities," he answered loudly and cheerfully as the boy bounded back into the main room, a large brightly wrapped package in his hands.

Harry placed his gift on the small table that Sirius had set up for just such a use. There were already packages from Sirius and Remus waiting there.

"What can I do?" Harry asked, happier than his godfather had seen him for some time.

Sirius smiled at him, pleased that Harry seemed to be in such a good mood. Lately, especially after their argument over the Imperious curse, Harry had been a bit broody and short tempered. Sirius, sure of his actions but still upset over the necessity, had overlooked more than a few instances of surliness and cheek from his godson just to avoid getting into another row that would not end up happily for either of them. Some things were just not worth the battle when it came to moody teenagers.

"Why don't you hang the streamers, Harry," he answered, his eyes twinkling.

Harry nodded his agreement and proceeded to unpack the bag with the party decorations. Within moments, he was using the spells that his godfather and Remus had taught him over the weekend just for this occasion, and the room began to fill with colorful crepe.

A half hour later, Dobby appeared and began to summon large platters of food and sweets onto the dining table. Part of Sirius' gift to Hermione was hiring Dobby for the evening instead of letting the one of the unpaid Hogwarts house elves cater the dinner. Even though she was not making great strides in promoting S.P.E.W. to the rest of the student body or faculty, Sirius always took pains to be respectful of her views and helpful when he could be.

Just before six o'clock, when Ron and the birthday girl were due to arrive, Sirius sent Harry to change into a nicer set of clothes. Really, the boy would live in T shirts and jeans if his godfather would let him. Harry had grimaced and postured for a minute before obeying reluctantly. Honestly, Hermione had seen him dressed casually for years. He didn't see the necessity of dressing up just for dinner and cake.

At promptly six o'clock, there was a knock at the door and it opened to reveal a very pink faced birthday girl with a grinning redhead standing behind her. Amid cries of Happy Birthday and cheers all around, she was led to the place of honor at the table. Sirius, beaming like maniac, popped an enchanted paper and crytal tiara on her head that continuously shape shifted into different designs and jewel tones.

The boys, forever waiting in anxiety for their next meal, stared covetously at the laden platters until Sirius took pity on them and allowed them to start feasting. Only after the birthday girl had been served, of course. They ate merrily and chatted noisily, only taking a break to cut into the sparkling pink cake and singing off key. Hermione laughed hysterically, even though the singing was making her head hurt. She appreciated the effort.

After everyone was left sated at the table, groaning in discomfort from the mass consumption, Sirius clapped his hands excitedly and levitated the presents table over to where Hermione was perched in her chair making a huge effort to remain in a ladylike position despite feeling absolutely enormous from food.

"Mine first! Mine first!" Sirius happily cried out. He could be such a child during times like this. Of course it was part natural joie de vivre and part desire to act as silly as possible to make the kids laugh at his antics. He used his wand to propel a breadbox shaped parcel to land directly in front of her.

Blushing furiously from the unused to attention, she carefully tore through the glittering paper to find a nondescript brown box. Frowning, but amused, she lifted the lid, only to be rewarded with a loud _bang_! and a large black cloud of smoke. When the smoke cleared, her eyes were wide in shock from the unexpected commotion, but that gave way quickly to peals of laughter as she clapped her hand over her mouth, coming dangerously close to snorting in amusement over the condition of her dinner companions.

Seated at the head of the table, the birthday girl now found herself surrounded by four males who had unbelievably sprouted cat faces. Grinning as sheepishly as a cat face could, Sirius ignored the cries of protest from the other party goers and gave his attention to the giggling girl.

"Just a little love note from Zonko's. After Harry told me what happened with the polyjuice potion in your second year, I thought it was only fitting that you should see what everyone else looks like when attacked with pussycat magic."

Hermione removed her hand long enough to choke out an answer. "You all look brilliant, Sirius! I knew Ron was a cat person," she teased, glancing over at Ron who was looking surprisingly like Crookshanks, smashed face and all.

"It will wear off in just a moment," Sirius assured them.

Harry was shooting daggers at his godfather from a black and while cat face with a little white lightening bolt running down his forehead. Remus, used to being the target of such pranks from his long suffering years as a Marauder, just sat back in his chair smiling serenely, absolutely nonplussed with the whole situation.

Sirius, regaining his composure as the spell slowly lifted, leaned over and handed Hermione a small rectangular box. "This is your real present, my dear."

Hermione recovered herself enough to remove the wrapping, uncovering a black velvet case. Opening it gingerly, her eyes widened with pleasure as she extracted an exsquisite hair comb studded with small sparkling sapphires.

"Oh," she breathed quietly. "It's gorgeous, Sirius."

"Your birthstone," the suddenly calm man replied, his gray eyes twinkling madly. "It's an antique. It belonged to my aunt. I'm sure you will do it far more justice than she ever did."

Hermione frowned and hurriedly placed the comb back into the box. "I can't accept this, Sirius. It should stay in your family."

Sirius reached over and pulled in back out, gently entwining it into her hair. Somewhat fashionably, he was pleased to realize. "Nonsense, Hermione. Harry loves you like a sister. You already are in our family."

Hermione ducked her head shyly amidst Sirius' sincere declaration and Harry's enthusiastic nod agreeing to his godfather's assessment. "Thank you, then. I love it," she whispered quietly as she gently ran her fingers over the intricate scroll work.

Remus clapped his hands together loudly, shocking them all back into the party spirit. "Alright, then. My turn."

With a flick of his wand, a chubby square box sailed over the table and floated gracefully in front of the still blushing girl.

"Not precious antique jewels or jokes, but I hope you like it anyway, Hermione," he teased.

She smirked and proceeded to rip off the purple tissue paper sprinkled with stars. Popping open the top of another plain brown box (carefully this time, just in case Remus had also shopped at Zonko's), she peered inside and squealed at the contents. Mad with glee, she began to unload the various sized bottles and flasks onto the table, reading out the labels that had been painstakingly written.

"Oh, my."

Remus smiled at her with the pleasure of a teacher watching his favorite student enjoying their studies. "All from my own garden. You won't find most of these easily at any apothecary."

Ron leaned over, curiosity high at Hermione's obvious pleasure. "What are they?"

"Herbs," Sirius answered for his friend, cocking an approving eyebrow at Remus. "Very rare herbs, from the look of it. Even Snape would be jealous himself to get his hands on a few of these, I would wager."

Remus grinned like a boy. "Oh, I help him out with some from time to time. Professional courtesy, you know, for my Wolfsbane. You are such a promising Potions student, Hermione. I thought you might like to really test out your skills with some of these. Assuming, of course, that you promise to use them cautiously and carefully," he said with a pointed look at the often mischievous trio.

Hermione nodded her consent enthusiastically as the boys looked away in mock discomfort. It was no secret who the usual ringmaster for trouble was. His neck and ears red from the not-so-veiled comment, said ringmaster slid over a large flat package in front of the distracted brunette.

"Erm, mine next I guess," Harry muttered as his godfather threw him an indulgent and affectionate smile.

Hermione grinned at his obvious discomfort. Putting her friend out of the misery of being teased, she tore off the paper and drew in an excited breath.

"Harry! How wonderful!"

In her hands lay a large book, _The Encyclopedia of Encyclopedias. _Eagerly, she popped it open and began to thumb through the pages, only to find them all blank except for a gold embossed letter on each. She lifted her confused face up to the blushing black haired boy and wordlessly asked for assistance.

"You're meant to write down what you are looking for on the appropriate letter page," Harry explained quickly. "Then the book will tell you exactly which books you need to find the answers and where exactly to find the books."

Hermione squealed again in delight and immediately tested the theory. As she sampled the information, the two men at the table nodded in approval at the wonderful piece of magic the book was.

"Well done, Harry," Remus remarked in admiration. Harry felt his face burn with embarrassment over the praise and he fidgeted a little in his chair.

Hermione was so consumed with Harry's gift that they all almost forgot that she had one more to open. Fortunately, Sirius knew what was coming and he had saved the best for last. Gently pulling the encyclopedia away from the engaged girl, he slid over a small flat box, expertly wrapped and breathtaking in its beauty.

"One more, Hermione," he whispered serenely.

Brought back to reality, she shot an apologetic look over to Ron and exhaled sharply over the pretty little package.

"I almost don't want to open it," she remarked, earning a hurt look from the redhead. "I mean, it's so beautiful just the way it is," she soothed, and Ron quickly brightened.

She pushed a fingernail under the ribbons, snapping them open, and then pulled off the lid. As she peered inside, she didn't say anything as two fat tears slid slowly down her cheeks. Ron's face fell and he looked positively crushed to see her cry. Sirius, assessing the situation far more expertly than the hormonal and fairly clueless boy, threw Ron an encouraging stare, jerking his head over to where Hermione was sitting.

Ron's eyes snapped open as he got the hint and and he stood up to make his way over to her. He reached into the box and slowly pulled out the shimmering silver bracelet, its delicate links almost imperceptibly clinking together, the four tiny charms jiggling slightly from the motion. With more care than any of them thought he could possess, he wrapped it around Hermione's trembling wrist and tenderly fastened the clasp.

Uncomfortable in the silence that had engulfed the room, Ron began to speak in a rapid and jerky manner, just to take the tension out of the room.

"I didn't know how many charms to get for you, but...I thought...maybe..you know...one for each year," he stammered as his lifted them in turn for her to see.

"I wasn't so sure about this one. It's not exactly pretty," he apologized, wrinkling his nose as he presented the gray lacquered miniature troll with the glittering green eyes. "But it seemed right to include one that reminded me of the day we all first became friends."

Hermione smiled through her tears and Harry snorted in amusement. It certainly was appropriate. Enboldened, Ron rushed to explain the rest.

"Polyjuice potion, second year," he grinned, holding the small onyx cauldron with the sparkling mist that changed color in the light. "And, time turner, of course," as he described the small gold orb with the tiny rings around it. Across the table, Sirius threw them all an appreciate smile, dramatically wiping the back of his hand across his forehead and mouthing 'Whew!'

"And..and this, well, you know," Ron said nervously as he smoothed his finger over the intricately carved coral seashell.

She did know and she sniffed happily in place of the words that refused to come. Sirius knew, too and his eyes twinkled madly as he watched them as well as Remus who had helped Sirius retrieve the troublesome little shell out of the grove during that miserable week after Harry's birthday party.

Only Harry didn't get the significance, although he could clearly tell that the others did. Feeling like an unwanted guest, he frowned, hurt by the exclusion of his friends and family as he watched the others fawn over Ron's beautiful and unexpected gift.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Okay, sorry for the long overdue update. It's just getting harder to find the time to do it more than once a week. My work schedule has been insane. This is the first part of a chapter. Mostly angsty and some overdue family housekeeping. We'll be getting into the whole Moody storyline tomorrow with the second part. I wanted to break them up as this was already over nine thousand words and it was hard finding a breaking point.

Thanks to everyone who has stayed with me and has been reviewing. After the next chapter, we will pick up back with the book instead of concentrating on the two missing months that JK didn't write about.

Thanks again and hope you enjoy it!

*******************

Sirius flopped down on the stuffed leather sofa, completely exhausted from a full day of teaching, grading, decorating and cleaning. Blowing a large gust of air through his mouth, he kicked his long elegant legs up onto the coffee table, pushing aside the sniggling little inner monologue of what a hypocrite he was being. He certainly would never have allowed Harry to do the same thing to the furniture.

Across the room, Remus snickered as he poured the tumblers of firewhiskey, knowing full well what was going through his best friend's mind at the moment. Sirius' face, although tired, looked guilty as sin over the harmless motion. Making his way back over to the seating area, he pushed a tumbler in Sirius' eagerly outstretched hand and contentedly settled himself in the chair closest to the fire. The autumn nights were already growing cold and he never seemed to feel warm enough.

Sirius took a bracing swallow as he used his free hand to rake his fingers through his hair. Never a good sign, his mate well knew.

"What's troubling you, Padfoot?" he asked as he took his first sip.

Sirius raised his eyes up, frowning. "I'm fine, Moony. Let's talk about why you were so secretive earlier." He looked away and took a second, unusually large gulp, his face distracted as he stared at the fire in intense concentration.

Remus wasn't buying it. Leaning forward, he deposited his glass onto the table and cocked his head in Sirius' line of sight, forcing the man to acknowledge him.

"That can wait a few more minutes. Let's talk about what is bothering you first." His gentle but firm tone leaving no room for discussion.

Sirius huffed. After decades of friendship, it still amused him when Remus acted like the little nanny goat prefect from their school days. Sighing in annoyance, he pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes tiredly. Remus knew that familiar motion as well.

"Harry?" he guessed. Sirius' godson was the only thing that could make the man that concerned.

Sirius' eyes flew back open and he gave Remus a sheepish smile. "Transparent as glass, aren't I," he replied humorlessly.

"Just to me, I think," Remus answered, kindness overflowing in his soft voice. "He seemed fine at dinner. What's the matter?"

Sirius took another swallow, his eyebrows knitted in concern. "He _was_ fine at dinner. It wasn't until Hermione opened Ron's gift that he got upset."

Remus settled back into his chair, decidedly puzzled. "What are you talking about? I didn't notice anything wrong with him."

Sirius cocked his eyebrow. "Well, _that_ I find surprising," he teased. Remus was usually exceedingly sharp in observing Harry's moods. At Remus' glare, he sobered back up. "Harry hasn't been himself lately. It's concerning me quite a bit, actually, but he refuses to talk about it."

"He was acting perfectly normal when he came in this evening," Remus mused, perplexed. Harry had bounded into the room cheerfully, as energetic and upbeat as Remus had ever seen him.

"Yes, when he came in he _was _in a good mood. I was happy to see it, to tell the truth. It's a side of him I haven't seen since the incident with Alastor. Then tonight, he clams back up again. You really didn't notice that he couldn't wait to leave as soon as the gifts were opened?"

Remus frowned and tried to recall the trio's exit. It had seemed perfectly normal to him. Hermione was flustered and spouting repeated thanks, the boys were laden down with her packages to take back to the tower. The only thing out of place had been Harry's unusual discomfort when Sirius had hugged him good-bye, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. Remus had seen the gesture bestowed dozens of times and Harry had never really minded, but this time Harry had shrugged out of it and left without a backward glance.

Smiling slightly, he wondered if the godfather was just having trouble accepting the fact that the boy, now used to regular displays of affection, may be starting to bristle from it in public.

"Because Harry pulled away from you when you were hugging him earlier?" he asked, his voice sympathetic.

Sirius glared. "No. Because of the way he was looking at Ron and Hermione after she opened the gift. He seemed angry and confused. But thank you for pointing out the other, by the way. As if I wasn't already upset enough about _that_."

"I'm sorry," Remus said earnestly, trying to keep from smiling at Sirius. His friend's distress over Harry's possible maturing idea of public hugs wasn't a laughing matter, but the idea that Sirius Black, of all people, would someday be upset over something like that was just a little hard to take seriously.

"I noticed that he wasn't exactly fawning all over you either, Remus," Sirius bit back, still more than a bit wounded over his friend's cavalier attitude.

Remus took another swallow of the fiery liquid and frowned. He had not really noticed that either, to tell the truth. While it was true that Harry had not made an especially large attempt at bidding him farewell, he hadn't been rude either. Remus had just assumed that they were all tired and wanted to get back to the tower before curfew.

Tapping his fingers against the crystal tumbler, he took a moment to ponder the events of the evening. It had all seemed perfectly lovely at the time. What could possibly have upset Harry? Another moment of replaying the dinner, then the gifts and then....wait...no, surely not?

"Sirius, does Harry fancy Hermione?"

Sirius practically choked on his whiskey.

"What? No. No, of course not. He's told me as much a dozen times."

It was true. Sirius had taken a liking to Hermione immediately and he could think of many other little witches would not be as suitable for his godson as Hermione was, but Harry had very vehemently denied feeling anything for her other than friendship. As time had gone by, Sirius could swear he had also seen the beginnings of brotherly protectiveness over her as well. All in all, it had been very cute to watch.

"Besides," Sirius continued, "he must surely see how much Ron fancies her. Harry was the one who convinced me to hire Ron so that he could have extra pocket money. That's what Ron used to buy the bracelet. Good lad, he has been working very hard for it, too. Ron's behavior towards her practically screams crush and Harry spends a lot more time with them than I do. I don't think he could not have noticed by now. It doesn't appear to affect their friendship. We all had a very good time in Hogsmeade yesterday. I didn't notice anything amiss between them. Did you?"

Remus shook his head, perturbed. "No. Nothing." The boys had seemed to have had quite an enjoyable afternoon, especially after Sirius had let them loose in Zonko's, promising them each an armload of goodies.

Remus was startled out of his quiet pondering by the loud sound of a smack as Sirius slapped his hands down on the leather sofa cushions.

"It's probably just his inner teenaged angst peeking out again. We have had several close calls with his cheeky attitude lately. I'll talk to him tomorrow night and see if I can't ferret something out of him. Maybe I'm making him study too much. What with Quidditch being cancelled this year, I may be acting a little too aggressively in trying to keep him occupied and out of trouble."

With that wishful thinking in mind, Sirius turned to Remus and gave him a long hard stare.

"Now, tell me what is going on with you, Moony."

**************

That morning, Remus had been in Diagon Alley, of a mind to shop in Slug & Jiggers to find the appropriate vials for Hermione's gift. Early morning, after term had already begun for the year, saw little traffic in the apothecary shop and it was because of this that he chose that time to buy what he needed. Too many people now knew about his 'furry little problem' and he preferred to keep as low a profile as possible.

He had managed to slip in quietly and, to his pleasure, found the shop empty although he could hear the faint murmuring of whatever staff was on duty in the back room. No one else would have managed, but then again, he did have the distinct advantage of his superior sense of hearing. Peacefully alone, he was able to take his time and peruse the various displays, intent on making the gift he was preparing as attractive as one could.

It wasn't until his little straw shopping basket was almost full that the two young store clerks returned to the front, mumbling between themselves as they emptied out the tubs that they had carried with them. Without meaning to eavesdrop, his honed senses left him no choice but to listen in on their whispered conversation.

"Another order? Blimey, that's more than they usually go through in an entire year and it's only the first month of term," one of them griped, as he pulled out a large cardboard box.

"I don't ask. I just take the orders and fill them," the other one snapped back.

Remus smiled to himself. Nothing like having a job that you weren't interested in doing. Before Hogwarts, he had found himself in that unenviable position more than once.

"What's Snape doing to them this year, I wonder? It seems like a lot product to go through, unless there was a larger number of new students than usual."

At this, Remus' keen ears perked up even more than usual. If it involved Severus, it was always good to know. Just in case.

"These aren't for Snape. See that little code over there on the order? That just means Hogwarts in general. Only Professor Snape has his own code because we usually only supply him. The general code is used for all of the other professors and the medi-witch."

"Then why would anyone else over there need all of these lacewing flies and boomslang skins?"

"Who knows. They could be doing any number of things. All I know is that the orders have had the right authorization spells on them. That's all I care about. Now how about you stop yakking and get back to work?"

Keeping his back turned as he pretended to show interest in a display of beetle eyes, Remus attempted to steady his accelerated heart rate. It may have seemed innocent to the young and unenthused clerks, but to him it was fairly apparent that someone at Hogwarts was regularly brewing a large supply of Polyjuice Potion.

********************

As Remus finished telling his story, he couldn't help but notice the loud clinking coming from where Sirius was sitting and holding his iced firewhiskey in a trembling hand. At first, he thought that Sirius might be panicking, but upon a closer second look, he saw only rage in his friend's silver eyes.

"Merlin, Remus. Polyjuice Potion. What if Alastor isn't Alastor?"

Sirius slammed his glass down onto the coffee table and shot up to his feet. "We need to tell Albus."

"No, Sirius," Remus replied calmly. "Not yet."

Sirius shot daggers at him. "Are you daft? What do you mean not yet? Aren't you concerned for Harry's safety, _at all_?"

At this, Remus shot to his feet as well. "You know better than that, Sirius," he spat out. The acid in his tone startled the worried godfather and he backed down ever so slightly. "I was merely going to suggest, as Albus has been more than a little unhelpful in this particular matter, that we gather actual proof before you go off half crazed and threatening again."

Sirius began to pace the room, as was his habit when in his animagus form. The fact that he had not, as yet, transformed into Padfoot was surprising to Remus. Sirius almost always felt the need to channel his inner beast when especially upset. Remus knew from long experience that Sirius would not be engaging in any more conversation until he calmed down.

"When does Harry have his next DADA lesson?" he asked after a fashion.

"Thursday afternoon," Sirius answered without hesitation, not bothering to look up from the floor as he paced a hole in the carpet. He had made it his priority to know where his boy was going to be at any time of the day.

"Excellent. That gives us more than two days to poke around and see if we can find any proof. I'll do it. With my sense of smell, I can get catch the scent before you could."

Sirius stopped pacing. "And how are you going to do that, exactly? What reason would you have to be here?"

Remus shrugged. "I don't know. You could always request a meeting with Alastor, or with whoever it is, to discuss Harry's marks. You are his guardian after all. I'll just come along with you. I don't think he would have to be drinking it at the time for me to catch the scent. Polyjuice is subtle but distinctive. I should be able to recognize it if I get close enough."

Sirius resumed his pacing, his gray eyes clouding over with indecision. "I don't know, Moody. I don't like the idea of my godson spending even another minute under this roof if there is the possibility of some disguised death eater running around."

Remus nodded his head. "I know, old friend. I feel the same way. But until we know something for sure, you can't go around making false accusations like that. If we're wrong, you could lose your teaching position here, and then Harry would really be unprotected. You have the map, right? Charmed like the one for Celestial Court?"

Sirius nodded reluctantly. When he had agreed to let Harry come back to Hogwarts, he had allowed Remus to return the Marauder's Map to his godson, but only after making another copy with the stress charm that he had put on the Sprog map. If Harry was feeling truly threatened, he would know.

"Good. And you also have the sealing magic protecting him. I'm sure he'll be fine for another couple of days."

Sirius didn't like this one bit. It was taking all of his resolve to refrain from packing Harry up and taking him home this minute. He dropped back onto the sofa and dropped his head into his hands. It was all just so bloody unfair. Harry didn't deserve to have these kinds of worries at his age.

Remus sat down beside him and put a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders. "He'll be okay, Sirius. We'll watch out for him together. In the meantime, you have to keep your regular schedule. It wouldn't do to show anyone that you are doing anything other than what you would normally do during the day. We don't need to send out any alarms that might trigger hasty decisions.

Sirius nodded dejectedly, knowing that Remus' words made sense even if he didn't want to hear them. Sighing deeply, he summoned the new map and opened it to the Gryffindor tower page. Immediately finding the comforting little dot that bore his godson's name that confirmed Harry's presence in the dorm, he rubbed it lovingly as he prayed for the ability to keep his precious child safe from whatever harm may be brewing for him.

*********

Sirius was in a right foul mood after breakfast. Alastor, or whomever it was that was masquerading as Alastor, had casually brushed off his request for a parent teacher meeting until Wednesday afternoon. Sirius was, of course, incredibly anxious to get proof and answers before he lost his mind in worry. But he had promised Remus that he would keep his temper as long as the scheduled meeting took place before Harry would be expected back in the DADA classroom. Sirius shuddered to think about what an impostor could do to his godson during that time.

He had let Remus know about the day and time when he returned to the residence briefly before his first class started. True to form, his loyal friend had pledged to remain on the grounds until then to help watch out for Harry, for which Sirius was grateful. He loved teaching but, when it came to Harry's safety, having to give lessons and act normally would be difficult to accomplish without the reassurance that Remus would be keeping an eye on him. Especially as Harry was scheduled for a 'detention' with Snape later this afternoon.

Harry still seemed to be in a foul mood when Sirius had tried to talk to him after lunch. All his kind entreaties had earned was a short tempered glare and a harsh 'bye' from the boy as he stomped off to his Charms lesson. He did notice that Harry had eaten alone. Ron and Hermione had never made an appearance at the Gryffindor table, so he wondered if the boy was just upset to be dining solo when he was used to having his friends around. If Sirius had not been so worried about the potential polyjuice potion problem, he would have given his godson a good scolding for his rudeness.

*********

As Harry angrily made his way to Sirius' residence, he struggled to push aside his temper. It wasn't easy as it had been a hard day.

He was still smarting from the night before. He felt indescribably hurt by everyone's reaction to the pretty little bracelet that Ron had given to Hermione. It was a nice gift, he admitted to himself. Really thoughtful and really unlike Ron. Harry was with him when he purchased it and had been surprised by the choice. It just didn't seem like something that Ron would think to give to her, but he hadn't really paid it a lot of attention. Honestly, he had just assumed that Ron couldn't come up with anything else. It was true that he had watched Ron pick out the charms, but he had given little thought to what they were, other than the troll with the vivid green eyes. It had seemed amusing at the time. The others, he had just thought that they were random choices to put a little filling on the empty links before presenting it to her.

He hadn't even blinked when the clerk had rung up the price. Sure, it was fairly expensive, but Harry knew that Ron was saving every bit of the money that they had earned together on Sunday afternoons. Still, he must have had to use some other pocket money to make up the difference, but Harry had just been so pleased that Ron had been able to afford something like that. His mate's financial worries upset Harry quite a bit. He would have happily given Ron as many galleons as he wanted, but his gingered friend's pride was too important to compromise.

Still slightly giddy from being on the receiving end of Cho's beautiful smile, he was practically skipping as he made his way to the residence for Hermione's party. The party itself had been brilliant and he had been pleased to see how happy Hermione was. In the years past, they had never made much of a deal of their birthdays. Just a small token gift and the like. But after the very big deal that Harry's birthday had been this year, he had been so grateful when Sirius had offered to host a get together for Hermione.

Everything was perfect (except for the annoying cat face charm) right until Hermione had opened Ron's gift. Harry had been a bit shocked by her tearful smile, thinking that she might be overreacting just a little. But it was the universal look of understanding that had been exhibited by everyone in the room but himself when Ron pointed out the little shell charm. Clearly the entire party were in on some kind of secret regarding the significance and Harry had been gutted to the core knowing that the very people he considered his little family shared an inside joke that he was not allowed in on.

Living with the Dursleys, he had never expected to be considered a part of anything. They may be his blood family, but he had been excluded from their little family moments since the day he arrived unwanted on their doorstep. When they shared knowing laughs and smiles, it didn't bother him. He was used to it. To be pushed out of the little circle of his new 'family' broke his heart more than he thought possible and instead of holing up in his bed in the dorm and crying his eyes out like a five year old, hurt and betrayed he unconsciously made the decision to just be mad about it.

Really mad.

He barely had the strength to keep from biting everyone's heads off last night. He didn't even look Remus in the eye as he made his way out of the residence, unwillingly holding a large pile of boxes. His godfather's arms around him felt foreign and unwelcome. He would have thought that at least Sirius would never keep anything from him. Sirius was always so insistent on complete honesty and Harry had been punished more than once for being less than completely forthcoming with him. When Sirius had bent down to kiss his head, it was just too much for him and he had squirmed out of the embrace before he said something he knew he would regret.

When they got back to the dorms, he had carefully set down Hermione's gifts on the study table, even though he really had wanted to just throw them into the fireplace and watch them burn. Ron and Herimione were supposed to be his friends. They shared everything, always. He didn't begrudge them any personal secrets, but they were sharing one with his godfather and the man that had become an uncle to him and he didn't know how they could justify doing something so hurtful to him.

He had curtly wished Hermione a last 'Happy Birthday' and then climbed the stairs as calmly as he could. He wouldn't let them see how upset he was over their indifference.

Waking early, he had choked down a quick solo breakfast and then spent a few minutes in the library before his morning class, hoping to see Cho. Right now, a glimpse of her pretty face seemed to be the only ray of sun in his cloudy life. Of course, his luck being what it was, she wasn't there and he had sat dejectedly until it was time to leave.

He had maintained a calm but cool air towards Ron and Hermione during the morning, keeping his distance from them but trying to remain civil. He even managed to keep his composure when he saw them huddled together in one of the corridors near the Great Hall. They didn't see him and he didn't say anything. It was hard enough to maintain an indifferent air when he had to see them. He wasn't going to invite opportunity. Still, as much as he didn't want to see them during lunch, he felt another pang of hurt when they failed to show.

So, it was with that temperament that found him more than unwilling to engage in a casual chat with Sirius when his godfather cornered him on his way out. He had been rude and he knew it. Quite frankly, he was surprised when Sirius didn't pull him aside for an earsplitting lecture, but he hadn't and, for whatever the reason was, Harry had been grateful.

The rest of the afternoon had passed uneventfully until he had to go to the dungeons for his 'detention'. Then everything just went straight to hell.

He was just about to push his way through the heavy oak door when Malfoy and his dimwitted sidekicks came barrelling out.

"More detention, Potter?" Malfoy sneered. "I thought you Gryffindors were supposed to at least be a little smart."

Harry gritted his teeth, but ignored the jab. If he got into it with Malfoy in the temper that he was in, he would surely hex the blond brat's head completely off and then he really would be in for it. Ignoring him, Harry tried to brush past but was shoved back by the broad shoulders of Malfoys little thugs.

"Not so fast, scar head. Tell us what you did this time. What could the headmaster's little golden boy possibly have done to earn _another _detention? Did you get caught kissing your little mudblood girlfriend?"

Harry's blood was beginning to boil. He was angry with Hermione, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't take offense over Malfoy insulting her.

"Shove it, Malfoy. Get out of my way," he growled at Crabbe and Goyle.

The goons refused to move, giving Draco time for a second go. "Or did you get caught breaking the rules again? Is your convict of a godfather teaching you how to be a criminal?"

Harry's bag was off his shoulder and his right fist was flying through the air before anyone noticed the dungeon door opening again. When Harry's hand connected with Draco's nose, there was a sickening crunch and then the sound of a scream. Blood was pouring from Draco's nose and he was yelling like a girl while Crabbe and Goyle hovered around him, unsure as to what to do.

"Draco! Stop that infernal wailing this minute and remember your position! Crabbe, Goyle, take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see his very displeased Potions professor glaring at him with the intensity of a thousand suns. Biting down on his lip, knowing how much trouble he was in, he looked down and stared at his hand which was bloodied and bruising.

"Draco didn't do anything, Professor. He was just asking Potter why he had detention," Crabbe whined.

Snape looked calmly from the bloody, shrieking blond to Harry. He was under no delusions about what the true story was, but he couldn't exactly say anything about it either.

"Well, Mr. Potter will have many more to look forward to, thanks to his behavior today."

Harry's eyes squinted in rage, but he didn't say anything that would make matters any worse. He was barely even paying attention when Snape conjured a piece of parchment and quickly spelled a few words on it. Once he was assured that Malfoy, yowling like he was being murdered, was being practically carried down the corridors, he thrust it into Harry's injured hand.

"You are useless to me today in the mental state you are in. Give this to your godfather, immediately. We will reschedule at my convenience."

With that, the man turned on his heel and stormed back into the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

Frustrated and feeling completely worthless, Harry drew back his fist and slammed it several more times into the wall next to the door, spewing out a string of profanity unlike he had ever released before. When he was finally worn out, his poor hand bloody and raw, he hoisted bag back onto his shoulder and sullenly made his way towards the Astronomy tower.

************

Sirius had been marking tests at his desk as he waited impatiently for the day to end. Wednesday could not come quickly enough for him and he had taken to dashing down to his quarters every change he got to worriedly check the map for Harry's whereabouts. Remus found it endearing at first, but it was quickly becoming nerve wracking.

The latest perusal had confirmed Harry's anticipated arrival at the dungeons, so Sirius had trekked back up to his classroom to get some work done. He was looking forward to seeing his godson safely next to him at dinner. Caught up in his thoughts, he didn't even hear Ron's quiet arrival until the redhead cleared his throat. Sirius had clearly forgotten that they were to be setting up for Sirius' first evening Astronomy class later in the week.

He had been novel in his teaching methods. Astronomy was usually held at night, but Sirius knew from experience that students were inattentive and tired late in the evening which is why he used spells instead of the actual sky for lessons during the day. However, Thursday was going to bring an impressive meteor shower and he was keen to have his students participate in it.

Pasting a smile on his face, he welcomed Ron in and the two of them got busy working on equipment lists and schedules.

Harry was trudging up the spiral staircase a few minutes later, murder in his eyes, his bleeding hand shoved firmly in his robe pocket. He didn't want Sirius to see it and ask questions before he had the chance to explain himself.

He bypassed the residence, knowing that, at this time of the day, Sirius would still be in his classroom. His godfather didn't work downstairs until after they had their family dinner together. He was steeling himself for what he knew was going to be an unpleasant confrontation. Sirius could be fairly tolerant at times, but there was no way he would condone Harry punching another student, even if that student was Malfoy.

He wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him. As he stepped into the classroom, head slightly bent from emotional overload, he saw Sirius and Ron sitting companionably at one of the work tables, ernestly engaged conversation over a pile of parchment. It was too much for Harry. Way, way too much.

"Oh, Bloody Hell, _enough_ already!" he shouted, to the shock of both his godfather and best friend.

**************

Ron was stunned into silence.

He had rarely seen Harry as angry as he was. Wincing inwardly, he hoped that he wasn't responsible for it. He and Hermione had had a long talk during lunch. Silently acknowledging without verbally admitting their mutual attraction (it still seemed so weird after all), they had spent the majority of their time agreeing to make full efforts to spend as much time with Harry as possible, with Hermione also sharing her suspicions of Harry's regard for Cho and how they could help with that. Ron had agreed full heartedly. He was still trying to deal with his feelings for Hermione, but he wasn't prepared to do it at the expense of his friendship with Harry or Hermione's.

Sirius was not quite as stunned, but he was confused.

Slipping into full parent mode, the first thing he could think of doing was calling Harry on his choice of words.

"I don't like that language, young man, and you know it," he scolded, wondering, even as he was talking, where his words were coming from.

Harry stared back at him, utter disbelief oozing from his pores. All he was suffering and his godfather could only be bothered to lecture him on his choice of words. Disgusted, he spun around and began to stomp back down the stairs.

Sirius regained his senses and stormed after him.

"Harry James, come back here _this minute_," he called tersely.

Even in his worried state, he wouldn't condone disrespect in the boy. He watched Harry stop short, his back heaving. After a brief second of internal argument, Harry turned back around and faced Sirius, but he didn't move until Sirius shot him his sternest look and motioned him back with his index finger. Harry obeyed, but only just, his temper boiling over even as he struggled to keep from crying.

Harry slammed his feet down on each step as he unwillingly made his way back up to the landing Sirius was standing on. His face and neck were flushed with rage and he was panting from the exertion of keeping his mouth closed.

"What has gotten into you lately?" Sirius demanded, trying to keep his own temper in check. Was this what he had to look forward to until Harry was out of his teens? Not likely, he thought. One of them wasn't going to make it through the next few years if Harry's attitude didn't change very quickly.

Harry didn't respond. He knew that if he opened his mouth, he was either going to start swearing at his godfather or he was going to burst into tears. Neither option was acceptable, so he clenched his teeth together and looked away.

Sirius counted to ten, keenly aware of Ron's nearby presence in the classroom. He cast a silencing charm around Harry and himself and only then realized that Harry shouldn't be there at all.

"Why aren't you with Professor Snape?" The realization sent his mind whirring and worrying, firmly displacing anger as his primary emotion for the moment.

"He kicked me out," Harry spit out venomously, avoiding Sirius' gaze.

"What? Why?"

Giving up any idea of breaking the news to his godfather favorably, Harry just shoved Snape's note into Sirius' hand and glared back defiantly. If he was going down, he was going down swinging.

As Sirius read the short note, his disbelief kicked up a notch.

"You punched Draco Malfoy? Why would you do such a thing?" he asked, confused.

The question wasn't presented as an accusation, but in Harry's enraged and turmoiled state, that was how he heard it. Squaring his shoulders, he fumed.

"He deserved what he got. I'm not sorry about it."

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. He refused to allow himself to completely lose it. They both needed a few moments to calm down. Taking a deep breath, he put a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a pointed look.

"I don't know what has gotten into you lately, but it's going to stop," he said as calmly as he could. "You are going to go downstairs, sit at the table and work on your homework until I am done up here. Then you and I are going to have a long talk. Do you understand me, young man?"

In no mood to be rational about anything, Harry shrugged off Sirius' hand and spun back around. "Whatever," he mumbled under his breath as he started to descend.

Sirius had had enough of his cheek. "What did you just say to me, Harry James?" he demanded irritably.

Harry paused again, knowing the use of his full name was always a precursor to unpleasant results and turned back around.

"_Yes_, _sir_," he forced out through gritted teeth before turning away and plodding down the rest of the stairs.

****************

Once inside the residence, Harry threw his book bag across the room and screamed.

"AAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

It was loud, but he knew it wasn't loud enough to bring his godfather running. Sirius kept their homes protected with a charm that prevented outsiders from hearing any noise coming from inside of them. He had done this at Privet Drive and at Celestial Court previously. This was useful on a day like today when Harry just wanted to rip his hair out by the roots from the injustice of it all.

Of course, he didn't plan for Remus to be in his bedroom and he certainly didn't plan for his anguished scream to bring the man running out into the living area, wand drawn and ready for dueling.

"_What_ in Merlin's name is going on?" he demanded upon seeing Harry standing in the room, alone, and evidently _not_ under attack, although he did smell the faint scent of blood in the air and it worried him.

"Oh, for the _love _of Quidditch!," Harry yelled, seeing Remus standing in front of him. He just wanted a moment of peace alone. Was that so much to ask?

He lifted his hands and pulled at his hair in frustration, completely forgetting about his injury. Remus saw it immediately and paled as he strode quickly over to the shaking boy. He gently pulled it away from Harry's tortured scalp and held it loosely in his own, mindful of how much it must hurt.

"Oh, Harry. What happened to you, kiddo?" he asked, his voice soft and genuine, and his warm golden eyes full of compassion as he put an arm around him.

Harry's pent up anger and hurt started to collapse as he took in Remus' words. For the first time in days he remembered that, rowing or not, he had people who did love him and felt even worse for it. Why did everything always have to be so hard?

Collapsing onto the leather sofa, he hunched over and groaned in defeat as he felt the tears that he had been suppressing all day fall.

*********

Remus filled a glass with water and walked back over to the sofa, offering it to the now quiet but still red faced boy. He had sat silently as Harry unburdened himself for fifteen minutes.

On the one hand, he supposed it might be a good thing that Harry upset himself over everyday kinds of stress and didn't just collapse under the stress of being targeted for death from the day he was born. He knew from personal experience that, when faced with life or death situations, this small boy slumped on his godfather's sofa rose to the occasion with every bit of his father and mother's bravery.

It was comforting, in a way, to realize that Harry had not allowed himself to shut himself off from emotions. He certainly had enough reason to. Marked as a target before birth, orphaned as a toddler, raised in a hostile environment, several near death experiences. All of these would break a normal person. Or, at the very least, make a person hard and unfeeling. Clearly, Harry didn't have these problems. In fact, the poor child felt _too_ much and even Sirius' late entry into his life, bringing with him all the unconditional love in the world had not completely squelched Harry's insecurities.

Sirius was doing a brilliant job as Harry's guardian in most respects, but if the two of them didn't start talking more openly with each other, Remus swore he would physically knock their heads together. It amazed the werewolf how his friend could go from completely overprotective to completely oblivious in under sixty seconds.

He knew his friend. Sirius was more likely to get his back up if he felt confused or overwhelmed. This was a bad trait in a parent of an insecure child who needed gentle coaxing instead of the verbal battering ram that Sirius was prone to fall back upon.

Of course, Harry himself was not blameless in this mess. He needed to learn to speak up when he was upset instead of letting it fester until it boiled over, taking out everything in its path.

Harry was sitting quietly now, tightly gripping his water glass in his non-injured hand. In his worn out emotional state, the only thoughts going through his mind were his personal disgust and embarrassment over allowing Remus to see him cry like a five year old and his acceptance that he was, once again, disobeying his godfather. He was supposed to be doing his homework, not sitting in a heap on the sofa talking to Remus. He didn't really care anymore. Even Sirius could only be just so angry at him and there was already a substantial butcher's bill to be paid before his homework came into play.

"Harry, please let me clean up your hand for you," Remus urged. The sight of the bloodied, bruised and now swollen knuckles were concerning him.

Harry just shook his head again. "Sirius will do it," he muttered quietly. "As soon as he's done spending time with Ron," he added, a heartbreakingly sorrowful look on his face.

Remus reached out a hand and gently lifted Harry's face up to look at him. "Sirius would come down in a _second_ if he thought you needed him. You know that. He took Ron on as an unofficial assistant because he thought it would make _you_ happy. Sirius loves you, Harry. Everything he does, he does it to make you happy."

Harry stared at the older man, wildly confused. "_Assistant_? What are you talking about, Remus?"

_Oh, for the _love_ of Merlin._

"You really need to speak with your godfather, kiddo," Remus groaned as he stood up and began to make his way towards the door.

"Remus, don't. I'll wait until he's not busy, really," Harry called out, a little desperately.

"He is _not_ busy, Harry. Believe me, he is _never_ too busy for you," he said tersely, getting up a head of steam to shake some sense into Mr. Black.

******

Angrier than he had been in a while, Remus pounded up the stairs towards the classroom. Standing at the entrance, he cleared his throat to get Sirius' attention.

"Sirius, a moment please?"

Sirius stood up and walked over to him. "Everything okay, Moony?" he asked, concerned over the look on his friend's face.

Remus cast a silencing charm around them and then uncharacteristically smacked Sirius in the back of the head. Immediately, Sirius recoiled as he rubbed the injured spot, a firey flash in his eyes.

"Bloody Hell, Lupin. What was _that_ for" he demanded.

"Your godson is downstairs, Sirius," he answered simply.

Scowling, Sirius resisted the urge to throw Remus over the side of the landing. "Yes, I know that, thank you. I sent him there."

"Oh. Well, that's odd. I would have sworn that if you knew Harry was downstairs, bruised, crying and physically and mentally in pain, that you would somehow find a reason to be down there with him," he spat out, his words increasing in volume and agitation as he spoke.

Now Sirius paled. "What?" he asked breathlessly, starting down the stairs.

He didn't get very far before he felt Remus pull him back.

"Wait a minute, Sirius."

Sirius threw him a death glare and pulled his arm away. "No."

"_Yes_," Remus insisted. "Why didn't you tell him that you had hired Ron to help you around the classroom?"

"What?" Sirius asked confused, still trying to get down to his godson. "What are you talking about?"

"He didn't know, Sirius. You didn't tell him. Ron didn't tell him. The poor boy keeps catching the two of you spending time together without him and it's killing him."

Sirius stopped short, shaking his head back and forth as if to physically clear it out. Nothing was making sense.

"Why else would we be working together in my classroom?" Sirius was genuinely confused.

Remus took a deep breath and slowly walked down until he was level with his friend.

"He didn't _know _you were working together. He thought that you were replacing him while he had to suffer through extra lessons and Severus' torments. And please tell me that someone thought to tell him the reason why Ron was so determined to get into the grove that day. Because Harry seems to be the only one who didn't know last night and, if memory serves, he was the one who probably suffered the most for it considering that he was only trying to help a friend."

"Oh, God," Sirius whispered quietly, ready to fall down on the step he was standing on. "I didn't want to speak behind Ron's back. I promised him. But I thought he would have told Harry. They tell each other everything."

"Apparently, not," Remus replied sadly. "Go. I'll go back upstairs and talk to Ron."

Sirius nodded absentmindedly as he sprinted down the last few steps and hurried into the residence.

******

Inside, Harry had carried his bag over to the table and was currently struggling with the job of removing his study materials with his left hand. He had decided to mitigate his godfather's anger by a least trying to obey him. He was using his right sleeve to brush away the last stubborn tears. He was tired of crying in front of his godfather.

He never used to be this emotional. It just seemed that, the greater his night visions grew in intensity, the more intense his emotional pain and anger tended to float towards the surface. He had decided that if things didn't start to change he was either going to turn into a little girl or kill someone.

He looked up when he heard Sirius enter the room and choked back a sob. He would not break down again. He wouldn't!

Sirius saw his beloved child, standing forlornly at the table, his face red as he held his right hand gingerly in the air and Sirius could have kicked himself for his earlier dismissal.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. I was going to study, but Remus wanted to talk to me. I'll start now," Harry said miserably, desperate to avoid looking Sirius in the face as his resolve to stand firm crumbled.

Sirius crossed the room in three long strides, his eyes going wide as he saw Harry's poor disfigured hand. He picked it up carefully and examined it, mentally flaying himself for not checking before.

"Merlin, Harry. What does Draco's _face_ look like?" he asked, with a hint of exaggeration in his voice.

Harry gave his godfather and incredulous look at the question and then, mercifully, burst into laughter.

**

Sirius and Harry spent twenty minutes in the bathroom as Sirius gently tended to Harry's hand. Nothing seemed to be broken and Harry resolutely refused to go to the hospital wing. Draco was probably still there and he didn't think he could handle another encounter with him. Sirius didn't know a lot of healing magic, but he made a good job of it anyway and the bruising already seemed to be lightening up.

When they were finally finished, Sirius motioned him over to the sitting area and Harry obediently, but unhappily followed. He didn't really feel like talking, but he knew he wasn't being given a choice.

He sat next to Sirius on the couch and waited for the lecture to begin.

"I'm sorry, little one."

Harry really had not expected _that_.

"What?" he asked, confused as to whether or not he had heard correctly.

"I'm sorry," Sirius repeated. "For whatever reason, I was sure that you knew that I had hired Ron. I'm not sure why I thought so. You never mentioned otherwise to me. I thought it would please you. I know how much Ron means to you."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "He didn't tell me, either."

Sirius sighed deeply. Hindsight really was 20/20. From this end it had become crystal clear how such a misunderstanding could have taken place. "He probably thought that I had mentioned it to you. Did you ever think to ask _him_ why we were spending so much time together?"

Harry bit back a rude retort and then shook his head. He was partially to blame, he realized, but Ron was not innocent.

"He's been keeping a lot of things from me lately. I thought we were friends."

Sirius reached over and pulled Harry closer to him. "You are friends. He spends most of his time with _me_ talking about _you_. You are a pretty intimidating friend to have, you know."

Harry shot his eyes up and looked at his godfather as if the man had gone temporarily mental.

"You're Harry Potter," Sirius reminded him. "Whether you like it or not. It can't be easy for Ron to always play second fiddle to you. He already has a line of bright and accomplished brothers to follow and his best friend happens to be the most famous teenager in the entire wizarding world. Don't you think he feels a bit insecure every now and then as well?"

Harry took that in and was silent for a moment. He never meant to make Ron feel that way. Ever since they met, Harry had alway been jealous of Ron.

"Remus told me that you were upset with all of us because of Ron's gift to Hermione," Sirius continued, when it was clear that his godson was not going to speak.

Harry just gave him a sad look and then returned to staring at bruised knuckles.

"That is a story that Ron told me in confidence the day he came over to Celestial Court after your birthday. Remember that day when I made you stay in the library and write your thank you cards?"

Harry looked up again, his eyes shocked, and nodded.

"I won't betray his confidence. Not even for you, as much as I love you. It's not my place to tell you that story. But I don't think that it is a big secret that Ron and Hermione fancy each other, is it?"

Harry sucked in a deep breath and his mind spun for a quick second before he realized that he did know that. Their dynamic had certainly changed over the past few months. He shook his head.

"Does that bother you? I know it might seem strange to see your two best friends become more intimately attached with each other than they are with you. There will be many times that they have secrets with each other that they don't share with you. Your Mum and Dad did. We learned to accept that."

Sirius rubbed Harry's back gently as he waited for his godson's response. He could only pray that Harry was open to this idea. A romance dropped into a friendship could wreak real havoc and he didn't want to see his child go through any more pain unnecessarily.

"No," Harry responded firmly as he decided. "No. It's okay." His eyebrows were knitted together in thought as he was thinking the same thoughts as Sirius was. "If they're happy, then that's okay."

Sirius exhaled a large breath he didn't realize that he had been holding. "Good. I'm glad to hear it." He reached over and put his hand under Harry's chin. "They'll be glad to hear it, too. Alright?"

Harry gave him the smallest of smiles. "Alright."

Sirius pulled Harry against him tightly and hugged for all he was worth until he heard Harry's heavy exhale which generally heralded the end of his godson's tension. Dropping a kiss on the black spikes that were already rapidly growing out, he pushed the boy back until they were facing each other. Lifting one eyebrow, he switched into stern parent mode.

"Now, why exactly did you feel that Mr. Malfoy needed a broken nose, young man?"

***************

After dinner, Sirius and Remus were sitting around the fire while Harry sat at the table working on his neglected studies. The air in the room was significantly more clear than it had been in a while due to long overdue conversations that had taken place that afternoon. Once he had been purged of all of the hurt feelings that he had been plagued with for the past few weeks, Harry even found the energy to whinge about the week's worth of grounding he had been given for sending Draco to the hospital wing.

In an attempt to both adhere to the new house rule about open communication lines as well as to take away the sting of punishing him for something that was probably well deserved, Sirius and Remus had shared their suspicions about Alastor with Harry, telling him that he probably would have been confined to the residence anyway. Sirius had already decided that Harry should know as much as possible. Yes, their little meeting was only a day away, but if Harry could help in keeping himself well away from Moody, that was not a bad thing.

Currently, the two men were arguing over the logistics of keeping someone on polyjuice potion long enough to make it through a whole day of classes.

"The potion would have to be administered nearly constantly to have that kind of effect," Remus reasoned as Sirius scratched his head in frustration. "How is he doing it?"

Over at the table, a boy who had some personal experience with the potion and who _should_ have been concentrating on his Transfiguration homework finally spoke up.

"What about his flask?" he suggested as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sirius and Remus looked at each other and then looked at Harry.

"What?" the boy asked, a little discomforted by their intense stares.

Sirius snorted. "From the mouths of babes, Remus."


	13. Chapter 13

A/N Okay. About Sirius' obsession with Harry's use of profanity. Every parent has their pet peeve with their kid's behavior. Usually, it's something that the parents do themselves and they subconsciously feel guilty about it so they fuss when they see their kids doing the same thing. I picked profanity because I can see Sirius as the type that would swear like a sailor, but at the same time, he gets on Harry's case about it just because he thinks that that is what a good parent would do. It's just their quirk.

There you go, Aimael. Just for you, lol.

It seems that, no matter how hard I try, I can't find the time to write until Sunday. For now, at least, looks like I'll just be updating once a week. Not that curlybean has not been trying her hardest to keep me on my toes, lol! For now, I'll just try to make up for the infrequency of posting by making the chapters long enough to be worth the wait.

jogger made a very astute observation last week to me in a PM that we really didn't have enough of a bonding scene between Harry and Sirius after last week's angst and I found myself agreeing with her. It is with that in mind that I wrote the opening scene of this weeks chapter. Originally I was going to to mention this conversation in passing, but I enjoyed presenting it more this way.

Iva, I enjoy all of your reviews. Please feel free to criticize if you don't care for something. Constructive criticism is always welcome. I may not always agree with you, but I respect your right to express it.

Enjoy

**********

Sirius lay in his bed, absently twisting the blanket with his hands. His mental state was vacillating between anger over the potential presence of an enemy inside the walls and worry over his godson's safety. There were two ways that the meeting with possibly-not-Alastor could go tomorrow. Both of them with a large element of fear and relief attached to them.

If Harry's DADA professor turned out to be someone other than Alastor Moody, the discovery would alleviate Sirius' unease over the behavior of the man that he had known well during his years of Auror training. Additionally, removal of said person would decrease the current danger that his godson might be in and potentially give them a strong lead towards anyone else plotting against Harry. Of course, this would also lead to a worry regarding the imposter's ability to catch the real Alastor in such a compromising position in the first place in order to impersonate him. Whoever it was would have to be a formidable opponent to get the upper hand against a wizard of Alastor's caliber or, at the very least, have accomplices who were highly accomplished.

If Harry's professor really was Alastor, then the fear of it being a death eater was significantly decreased, but the worry became two-fold. One, was there something truly wrong with Alastor that was impairing his judgement and what that could possibly be and, two, what if Alastor had willingly gone over to the other side, taking his power and skill with him? That would truly be a huge blow to the side of the light.

Sirius wasn't necessarily worried about his ability to subdue whomever it was in the DADA professor's office. If there was one thing he had confidence in, other than his love for his godson, it was his ability to duel with the best of them. He worried that he didn't always see what direction danger was coming from but, once he saw it, he was a fierce warrior that very few wizards could best in a fight. His years away in Azkaban had made his skills a little rusty, but over the summer he had taken great pains to re-acquire his speed and accuracy and was, once again, as deadly as he ever had been during his auror days.

His godson's wellbeing was at risk. It was a most powerful incentive to practice.

He glanced over at the clock on his night table and groaned at the time. It was well after one in the morning and he couldn't afford to be tired and restless if he was going to be in top form for the meeting. Sitting up, he swung his legs over the edge of his bed and found his slippers. After he had left school, whenever he couldn't sleep at night, he had fallen into the habit of making a cup of cocoa. Sirius didn't know if it was the comforting temperature of the sweet liquid, or soothing atmosphere of a quiet kitchen, but the remedy had never failed in lulling him back to sleep. It was a habit he had fallen back into after his release from prison and, whether by effectiveness or nostalgia he didn't know, even after all of these years, it still worked.

He pulled on his paisley night robe and slipped, as quietly as he could, into the living area. Turning towards Harry's room, he was tempted to check on his godson but frowned when he saw a thin beam of light coming from underneath the door.

Against Sirius' better judgment, Harry had been sent to bed at ten o'clock, his usual bedtime. Usually Harry's bedtime when grounded was the ridiculously early hour of eight o'clock as a measure to reinforce consequences for childish behavior. However, after seeing his godson's resigned demeanor as the wall clock chimed eight and Harry reluctantly excusing himself from the game of wizard's chess he was playing with Remus, Sirius relented. In the interest of keeping Harry's school work from suffering, or at least that is what Sirius used as an excuse, he gave Harry the choice between early bed or two hours of studying ahead in his lessons.

Sirius had almost bitten his tongue off to keep from laughing at the look on Harry's face, resembling one as if he had just taken a sip of really spoilt milk, the boy's mind unhappily pondering the attraction of choices between looking forward to two hours of homework as if Christmas had come early or being put to bed like a sodding five year old. In the end, not wanting to look a rundown gift horse in the mouth, Harry had obediently put away the chess game and pulled out his Divination charts.

Sirius kept his gaze firmly directed towards the fireplace so that his godson wouldn't see the smirk that refused to leave the older man's face. Sirius and James had been four years younger than Lucius while at school to do any real mischief to the older Malfoy, although they had pulled off one or two truly brilliant pranks before Lucius graduated. In return, they had been on the receiving end of quite a bit of torment. At least Harry was on a physically as well as an educationally level playing field with Lucy's little whelp.

Even though the Marauder in him would have given almost anything to see the look on the little blond ponce's face when Harry broke his nose, the guardian had to maintain a sense of discipline. Besides which, Sirius had given his godson a very firm lecture on bullies who use their fists instead of their words and Harry had winced guiltily, remembering how much he had despised Dudley and his motley band of thugs.

The real issue at hand was Harry's safety, not little Malfoy's stuck up and apparently broken nose. Sirius knew it and Harry knew it. While the concerned godfather had no qualms about ordering the boy to keep to their quarters in the tower while there may be an issue of a potential threat on the staff lurking about, he didn't see the need to go any further than that with a chastisement. Ten o'clock for bed was just fine.

But Sirius knew better than to think he actually went to sleep then. Once Hogwarts students were back at school, away from their parents' watchful eyes, they generally kept odd hours just because they could. The Marauders had done most of their finest work in the darkness of night. However, one a.m. was a bit too late for his fourteen year old to still be awake on a school night, especially when the boy had already been granted one reprieve.

Rapping softly on the door, he pushed it open to find a very wide awake Harry sitting up in bed reading by the light of his wand. Frowning, he made his way quickly over to the side of the boy's bed.

"Harry, it's late. What are you still doing awake?"

"Couldn't sleep," Harry muttered, closing his battered copy of _Quidditch: Through the Ages_.

Sirius allowed himself a small smile at the condition of the well loved book and made a mental note to buy his godson a new one. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he leaned over and gently eased the book from Harry's grasp, placing it on the nightstand.

"Bad dreams?" he asked, concern evident in his narrowed eyes.

Harry shook his head and stared down at the hem of his sheet, absently tugging at it with his left hand. Sirius reached over and picked up his right hand, giving the injured limb another examination. He was pleased to see that the bruising was well on its way towards healing, the cuts and scrapes already knitting. Harry was quiet and he looked tired. Sirius wondered what it was that was bothering him so much.

"I was just going to make a mug of cocoa. Would you like to come out and join me for a bit?"

Harry lifted his face, a small smile peaking out that warmed his godfather's heart, and nodded. Sirius leaned over and ruffled the short black spikes fondly.

"You have to promise to go to sleep after you have had yours, though. Alright?"

"Alright," Harry agreed, taking Sirius' outstretched hand and allowing his godfather to hoist him out of his bed.

Sirius led the way out to the living area with Harry shuffling along behind him. The fire was out, making the room a little on the chilly side, so Sirius used his wand to relight it, shooting red sparks that ignited cosy, roaring flames.

Harry made his way over to the sofa and curled up at one end, tucking his legs up beneath him. In his thin t-shirt and pajama pants, the damp air cut into him and he shivered slightly. Noticing this, Sirius pulled a ridiculously colored throw blanket, a gift from Molly, from the back of the chair closest to him and wrapped it around his godson's small shoulders. Harry shot him a put out look, but inwardly he smiled over his godfather's fussing, enjoying the attention.

Snuggling into the hand knitted warmth, he leaned into the back of the sofa, resting his head in the corner and watched idly as Sirius raided his small cold cabinet for the necessary ingredients and then poured two mugs of milk before adding a square of Honeyduke's best to both. With a flick of his wand, two spoons began to stir and a moment later steam slowly rose from each cup. In no time, he was joining Harry on the sofa, handing him a warm and delicious smelling treat that the boy took gratefully.

Sirius let a quiet couple of minutes pass as they sipped and enjoyed the pleasant heat from the blazing fireplace. Harry was very tired looking, his small face pale and the hint of circles forming under his brilliant green eyes. The concerned godfather knew without asking that the boy's sleepless state was definitely more mental than physical.

"What's bothering you, little one?" he asked, leaning forward to lift Harry's chin up. "Are you still upset about what happened today?"

Sirius was truly worried that Harry was more put out by everything than he was letting on. Harry was so much like his father in that regard. The difference was that James would show the world a happy and carefree face when he was bleeding inside. When his son kept everything tucked away, he had a tendency to brood.

"No," Harry responded, shaking his head slightly. "I'm fine with all of that. Really."

Sirius frowned as he leaned closer to the boy who had once again dropped his gaze down to his lap. "Then what is it?"

He waited for a moment until Harry drew in a heavy breath, held it for a second and then exhaled deeply.

"I want to go with you tomorrow when you see Moody..or...whoever it is," Harry said rapidly, his eyes flickering between Sirius' face and the throw rug next to the sofa.

"Absolutely not." Sirius sat straight up in agitation, his face going positively livid. "I_ do not_ want you in that classroom tomorrow, under any circumstances. Do you understand me, young man?"

Harry raised his head and shot a pleading stare at his godfather. "I could help, Sirius. You know I could."

"You could also get hurt, Harry. Unnecessarily. Remus and I can take of it ourselves," Sirius said firmly, leaving no room for discussion.

"But Sirius.."

"No." Sirius frowned sternly at his godson until Harry dropped his head back down in defeat.

Softening somewhat, Sirius reached over and lifted Harry's chin back up to stare into the hurt green eyes.

"It's not that I don't think that you are capable, Harry. You have proved yourself to be quite talented over the years," he assured the boy kindly.

Harry huffed and avoided his godfather's gaze, a petulent pout on his face.

"Doesn't matter though, does it? You still don't trust me," Harry pouted, wounded by what he saw as his godfather's lack of faith. "You just see me as a child."

Harry turned his face away in frustration and disgust. "Don't you know who _I am_?" he asked, his voice heavy with poisonous sarcasm. "I'm the _Boy Who Lived_. The Savior of the Wizarding World." Harry turned back towards him, his eyes desperate and pooling with tears. "Right?"

Sirius' eyes blazed over the use of the unwanted monikers for a brief second, but sadness overtook him as he took in his godson's slumped shoulders and tortured face.

_Too much_, he thought. His child had just too much expectation dumped on him. Deciding that Harry could use a good dose of teenager remonstration to divert his focus away from the very real possibility of a short future, Sirius frowned at him firmly.

"Well, right now you are acting like a child, aren't you?" he asked pointedly. His tone had the desired effect as Harry's ears flushed red.

They sat quietly for a moment, Harry refusing to make eye contact and Sirius not willing to force him to. He could tell that there was something still off in his godson's demeanor other than his zealous desire to jump into the thick of things.

Again.

Reaching over, he cupped the side of Harry's face, rubbing Harry's temple with his thumb soothingly.

"I trust you, Harry. I think you are already one of the most gifted wizards I have ever known, and that is really saying something. But, you're right. I do see you as a child."

At this, Harry shot him a dirty look but it didn't deter Sirius from finishing his statement.

"However, never forget that, in my eyes, you are _not_ the _Boy Who Lived_. In my eyes, you will always just be Harry, our little boy, no matter how old you are."

Harry's face was a seething mass of indignation, which only made Sirius smile indulgently.

"Can't help it, kiddo. It's no reflection on you or your abilities, I assure you. But, to me, you'll always be the little rugrat that chased Padfoot around the house, pulling my tail while you were learning to walk."

Harry rolled his eyes and a small grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Is that like a dad thing?" he asked, the words flying out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. The moment he said them, his face flushed red and he turned away nervously.

As time had passed, Harry couldn't help but think of Sirius as his father in all the ways that mattered. But fear of rejection, in the event that Sirius didn't share the strong and intimate sentiment, coupled with the guilt of replacing his real father, the man that had selflessly sacrificed himself for Harry's life, weighed heavily on the boy's mind.

Sirius' breathing hitched and he blinked rapidly, the innocent question bringing a flood of emotion coursing through him. Regaining his composure quickly, he gently pulled Harry's face back to look at him. "Yes," he answered, his voice shaky and watery. "That's definitely a dad thing."

Harry stared at him for a moment, his piercing emerald orbs a kaleidoscope of confusion, hope, hurt, love and sadness. He leaned forward and laid down sideways across the length of the sofa, resting his head in Sirius' lap and mumbling something that his godfather's ears couldn't quite make out.

"What was that, Harry?" he asked, noticing uneasily the way the question made the boy fidget. He waited patiently until Harry was ready to respond.

"I don't want anything to happen to you, too," Harry finally answered quietly, breaking his godfather's heart in half.

_Oh Sweet sweet Merlin_

Sirius took a deep breath and held it as he stroked Harry's hair. "Nothing is going to happen to me tomorrow, Harry. I promise," he soothed, exhaling deeply. "Whoever it is, they are no match for both Remus and myself, so don't worry. Alright?"

Harry heard the words and knew he should draw comfort from them, but it was hard. He wondered if Sirius knew how difficult it was for an orphan who had just been given a brilliant new father to watch that father walk into a dangerous situation while Harry was expected to sit back and do nothing to help.

Sirius could tell that Harry wasn't likely in the mood to be further convinced, but he needed reassurance.

"Promise me, Harry, that you'll obey me and stay out of Moody's classroom tomorrow," he demanded. "I can't concentrate properly on what I need to do if I have to worry about you showing up and putting yourself in danger."

Harry said nothing at first, enjoying the feel of Sirius' long fingers massaging his scalp, the gentle motions already lulling him to sleep. He didn't like the feeling of helplessness that accompanied the promise that Sirius was trying to extract from him. On the other hand, he knew that Sirius would risk his own life to save Harry's and Harry knew that he could not afford to serve as a distraction for his godfather's concentration. Reluctantly, he finally nodded.

"I promise."

Sirius relaxed visibly. He trusted his godson to keep his word. He felt his godson snuggle closer to him, clearly not ready to go back to bed. Smiling, he patted Harry's shoulder.

"I'll make a deal with you. If you promise to close your eyes and rest, I'll let you stay here with me for a few more minutes and tell you about some of the pranks we pulled on Draco's father."

Harry snorted, his good humor returning in small increments. "Deal."

Sirius summoned a couple of pillows and a warmer blanket. He wedged one of the pillows under Harry's head on his lap and pulled the thick comforter over the boy's slight frame. Taking the other pillow, he propped it into the corner of the sofa and leaned back into it tiredly.

"Now, what you have to remember about the lads in the Malfoy family is that they tend to squeal like three year old girls..," he began, eliciting a snort from his godson as he encircled his arms around Harry protectively.

The next morning Remus found them fast asleep cuddled on the sofa and he refrained from waking them until he absolutely had to for breakfast.

********************

After Ron and Hermione left the Great Hall from breakfast, they ran down towards the Forbidden Forest for their Care of Magical Creatures lesson. Slightly ahead of them on the winding path, they recognized the messy head of black hair. Exchanging nervous looks, they simultaneously picked up speed to catch up with Harry. Ron, with the advantage of his significantly longer legs, reached him first, Hermione scurrying behind them.

"Hey, Harry," Ron greeted him, his voice uncertain and shaky.

Harry turned to the side, his eyebrows knitted in thought. "Hey Ron." He twisted his head around slightly and acknowledged Hermione's presence as well. "Hey Hermione." Greetings out of the way, he turned back around and focused on the ground in front of him as he continued towards the lesson area.

Ron grimaced at the short words and shrugged when Hermione jerked her chin towards Harry, insistently encouraging the fumbling redhead to persist in approaching their friend. Both of them felt miserable about what had been happening between the three of them. After his conversation with Remus the previous afternoon, Ron had wanted nothing more than to go and apologize to Harry for any misunderstandings, but Remus had told him that Harry and his godfather were having a serious discussion and Ron would have to wait.

"Look, Harry," Ron began, his face blushing furiously with nerves, "we....we feel really.....bad about everything," he stammered, not knowing what to say. In frustration, Hermione huffed and elbowed her way in between them.

"What Ronald is _trying_ to say is that you are our best friend and we don't want anything to get in the way of that," she stated with her usual air of authority. Softening her gaze, she dropped her eyes. "Please don't leave the tower just because you are mad at us. We really miss you."

At the tone in her voice, Harry looked up from the ground, confusion on his face. "What?" He stopped walking for a second and took a careful look at his two friends as if he had not seen them earlier. Taking a second to process their desperate faces and the words they were forcing out, he finally realized what they were trying to do and a small grin appeared on his face, confusing the stuttering couple.

"I'm not mad at you," he assured them. "I didn't come back to the tower last night because Sirius grounded me for a week for punching Malfoy."

Hermione looked as if she might cry from the sincerity of Harry's words. Ron, on the other hand, lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "You punched Malfoy?" he asked, incredulously.

Harry chuckled at both Hermione's face and Ron's question. "Yeah, I did," he shrugged. "I broke his nose," he added, looking sheepish.

Hermione stared at him disapprovingly while Ron punched his shoulder in appreciation. With enthusiastic prompting from his redheaded mate, Harry quickly told them the whole story while the rest of the class assembled. As the two of them listened intently, they each were vacillating between relief that Harry stilled cared enough to defend Hermione, even while they were on the outs, and guilt that he was now under house arrest as a result. Shrugging off Hermione's attempt to apologize for being the object of the argument, Harry assured her that he didn't regret it, as well as pointing out that he was defending Sirius also.

During the lesson, Ron and Hermione couldn't help noticing the fact that Harry still looked overly distracted by something other than the antics of the Nifflers that Hagrid had searching for treasure. While there didn't seem to be any tension between Harry and the two of them, they wondered if he actually was uncomfortable with the idea of them being more than friends but just didn't want to let on.

Harry's distracted demeanor didn't improve during the rest of that class, nor the one following it, and he was still barely acknowledging their presence even as they ambled towards the Great Hall for lunch.

Sitting at the immensely long oak table amongst the carefree chatter of the other Gryffindors, Ron and Hermione couldn't help noticing how Harry had gone from quiet introspection to nervous twitching, his eyes spending more time studying the professor's table than the bubble and squeak on his gold plate. Although they didn't know what he was focusing all of his attention on, they could clearly see that it wasn't on them.

"_What _is going on with you today, Harry?" Herimone finally spat out, her patience gone and her nerves shot.

Looking at her in surprise, Harry finally noticed the obvious concern and confusion on his friends' faces. Observing them carefully, as if he had not fully seen them properly in a long time, Harry relaxed slightly. This was Ron and Hermione. His two very best friends, closest confidants and usual partners in crime. Although things may have been strained between them all lately, he knew, without a second of hesitation, that he could always put his faith and trust in them and a genuine smile of appreciation spread out across his whole face.

Glancing around at their immediate area, Harry was convinced that he could speak without being overheard. Motioning them closer, the three bent their heads together conspiratorially and Harry began to speak. At the professor's table, Sirius was too engrossed in his own thoughts to notice what was going on at his godson's table.

If he had been more observant, he might have realized that Harry was up to something.

**********

In the DADA classroom, the professor hobbled over to the desk and propped the fake leg up on the stool he had been keeping close by. This disguise was more trouble than it was worth. If he wasn't so scared of refusing the powerful wizard that had ordered him to Hogwarts, there was no way he would have ever agreed to do anything so painful and time consuming.

Leaning back against the battered chair, he moved his neck around, the audible clicks associated with tense popping joints reverberating around the otherwise silent room. He glanced at the clock on the wall and noticed, with a grimace, that it was time for another foul dose. Swearing quietly to himself, he reached into the pocket of his ill fitting robe and extracted the silver flask. With a flick of his thumb, he pushed back the stopper, the foul stench of the lumpy liquid inside assaulting his senses.

For the umpteenth time, he forced back the wave of nausea that threatened to overcome him. Squaring his shoulders, he mentally chastised himself for being so weak. It was just a silly potion, he reminded himself. He had been forced to consume far worse things in far worse places than this. It was just one part of the job that had been assigned to him, albeit, an extremely important part, and he would suffer through it until the job was done.

Years ago he had made his choice, his commitment to follow the charismatic and powerful man that now demanded that he prove his loyalties. It was a lifetime obligation. Only the weak changed horses in the middle of a race.

He was many things. A criminal, morally bankrupt, a lunatic always more attracted to the darkness and shadows than his father had ever wanted to admit to. But, one thing he was not, was weak. No matter what anyone else ever thought of him.

He would see the job done.

It didn't make ingesting the putrid potion any easier to do, however. Mostly because he didn't trust the brewer. Why his master ever thought he could trust that self congratulating berk Snape, he didn't know. He certainly didn't trust Snape. Most of his off time in the castle was spent spying on the potions master at every turn. So far he had to admit that he had not seen anything suspicious enough in Snape's behavior to report as an outright betrayal. He wasn't foolish enough to go spouting off at the mouth without proof. False accusations had dire consequences for the accuser

He may be at Hogwart's at someone else's bidding, but he had his own score to settle, and, when the time was right, he would.

He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and extracted a nearly empty bottle of fire whiskey. Pulling out the cork, he tipped it back and took a long swallow, shuddering slightly as it burned its way down his throat. He had found that he could almost stomach ingesting the potion if he had a nip of whiskey before and after. It was comfort that could only be enjoyed in the privacy of his empty classroom or quarters. Too bad he couldn't just whip out the bottle during the day and indulge, but he couldn't let the brats see a professor doing such a thing after all. He had his marching orders.

Groaning, knowing that time was growing short, he reluctantly lifted the flask to his mouth and was just about to take the hourly dose when the doors of his classroom flew open.

"_Stupefy_!" "_Expelliarmus_!"

The last things he saw before falling unconscious were the furious faces of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

**********

Peeking around the corner, Harry watched his godfather and Remus approach the DADA classroom. It was lucky that he had been watching Sirius' movements with the Marauder's Map, otherwise he would have been late. Sirius and Remus were heading towards the confrontation twenty minutes ahead of schedule. Behind him, Ron was quietly arguing with Hermione about the merits of coming along with Harry. After Harry had explained everything to them over lunch, she was of the mind that Sirius was quite right in asserting that he and Remus would have the situation well in hand.

Ron, on the other hand, was happy to be allowed back into Harry's confidence, relieved that his best mate's recent unhappy state of mind was not solely his doing, as well as eager to help flush out a possible death eater. Ron was nothing if not brave and loyal to his friend.

As the soft bickering continued, Harry whipped his head around and threw them a scathing glare. If Remus, with his enhanced sense of hearing, caught them, all of Harry's plans would go down the drain. They got the hint and quickly hushed up.

Harry wasn't sure what the plan was. Sirius had not been willing to share the details with him and Harry had not wanted to arouse any suspicions by asking. But even he was surprised to see the two men throw the doors open and immediately send out the debilitating hexes. As he watched them plow forward, he waited until they were completely inside and then sprinted forward himself, motioning for his friends to follow.

He couldn't afford being seen, so he kept them far from the door. This turned out to be a fortunate measure as he immediately heard the door slam shut. Listening for anyone approaching, he waited a brief second and, once sure that they were alone, he pulled out his wand.

"_Fortis Fenestrus_!" he hissed insistently, flicking his wand as he spoke.

To Ron and Hermione's amazement, a three meter square window appeared in the wall between the classroom and the corridor. Shooting Harry looks of incredulity, he smiled smugly and motioned for them to watch and listen. They could clearly see inside the DADA classroom where Sirius was shooting ropes out of his wand that were snaking their way around the man that appeared to be Professor Moody as Remus was summoning a wand that had been flung across the room.

"_Bloody Hell_, Harry," Ron murmured in amazement. Harry just shrugged, blushing slightly and trying to ignore the scathing glare that Hermione was shooting him. "How did you learn to do that?"

"Sirius showed me over the summer," Harry answered quietly, not wanting to give away their presence.

After his first Occlumency lesson with Snape, Harry had wondered how Sirius was keeping an eye on him. In an effort to convince Harry that he was indeed safe, he had shown Harry the spell that he used. Harry was sure that his godfather would not appreciate the way he was using his education at this particular moment. Although, technically, Sirius had only warned him at the time that if he was ever caught using the spell around the girl's dormitory, it would be a _very_ long time before he could sit comfortably again.

Hermione crossed her arms in agitation. She didn't approve of what they were doing, but, knowing that she was not going to be able to talk the boys out of it, she came along anyway, unwilling to deprive them of her assistance if they found themselves in true need.

"How very Slytherin of you, Harry," she scolded.

Harry and Ron both ignored her and trained their full attention on the window. It wasn't long before the man tied in the chair began to shake violently, the spinning vivid blue eye popping out of its socket and bouncing across the room, the hobbled leg forcing the prosthesis away from the foot growing out of the stump. Just a scant moment later, an entirely new and completely unfamiliar man appeared where the man they knew as Alastor Moody had just been. So rapt was their attention that they didn't even notice the arrival of Professor Dumbledore at the door.

*************

Inside the classroom, Sirius had concentrated his efforts on securing the impostor while Remus retrieved the deprived wand. Making his way over to the bound prisoner, Remus thrust his hand out to grab the ornately carved flask. Putting it up to his nose, he immediately recognized the telltale odor. Giving Sirius a curt confirming nod, Sirius raised his wand and pointed it at the prisoner.

"_Rennervate_!"

In short response to the spell, the bound man woke up abruptly, struggling in the ropes as he took in the sight of a wand being pointed at him by a man he knew to be a powerful and skilled dueler. He choked back a wave of fear and tried to keep his dignity intact, but was failing.

Sirius glared at him, his gray eyes icing over in his rage.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice growling with menace.

He never got a response. The next dose of potion had become overdue and, against his will, the bound wizard starting to squawk as he felt the transformation coming on.

***************

Sirius and Remus stared in horror as the transformation took place, the various replacement body parts popping and stretching as real parts asserted themselves and took their rightful places.

Wand drawn, Sirius held his breath, waiting in enraged anticipation to see the face that had bested Alastor and had been allowed in close enough contact with his godson to pose a real threat to the boy's life.

Whoever it was, they were going to pay if it was the last thing that Sirius did.

As the facial features cleared, Sirius had to fight to keep his composure.

What the _bloody hell_?

Too shocked to speak, he could feel Remus tense next to him and ask the question that was poised at the tip of Sirius' tongue but was refusing to come out.

"Fletcher?"

"Indeed," came a voice from behind them that Sirius knew to be Dumbledore.

Whipping around without lowering his wand, Sirius threw an icy stare at the placid headmaster. "You knew?"

Dumbledore nodded, clasping his hands in front of him as he glided forward. With a flick of his little finger, the ropes that Sirius had bound Mundungus with flew apart and allowed the man to regain the precious circulation in his arms. He scowled at Remus who was still holding him at wand point, but he wasn't stupid enough to try to stand up. The werewolf looked positively livid.

"Mundungus is here at my request, Sirius," Dumbledore stated calmly.

A lesser man would have run after being on the receiving end of the former inmate's furious glare. He had to restrain himself from throwing a hex at the headmaster, knowing as sure as his own name that, as good as he was, Dumbledore was better. It didn't relieve any of his anger, though.

"You had better have a _very _good reason for this, Albus," he threatened, his wand hand shaking in fury. "What happened to the real Alastor?"

Dumbledore strode slowly and easily over to the two enraged Marauders, moving cautiously so as not to spook either one of them into doing something harmful to the man that was now whimpering in the chair.

"Alastor is fine, I assure you," he said silkily. "I needed help with a very important project, someone with Alastor's superb skills and knowledge."

Sirius' face had gone positively red, his blood pressure escalating scarily.

"You _promised_, Albus. You promised me that Harry would be safe if I let him come back this year. You knew that I only allowed it because I thought that Alastor would be here watching out for him. You _knew _that I only agreed because I thought that any death eater would have second thoughts about attacking if they knew that there were two former Auror's keeping watch!"

"Indeed, Sirius. I did. I'm truly sorry to have deceived you this way. The fewer people that knew what was going on, the better. I assure you that the ruse was necessary, if only for Harry's benefit. With Mundungus here impersonating Alastor, it was a double reward. Alastor's presence would, as you said, deter the idea of attacking Harry at school. It would also mean that no one would be looking elsewhere for him, because he was known to be here, leaving the real Alastor to carry out his mission in a higher degree of security and anonymity.

Sirius was shaking with rage and Remus finally had to put a hand on his shoulder to restrain him. Turning hard topaz eyes on the headmaster, Remus seethed with all of the bestial hostility he had in him.

"This is unacceptable, Albus. And it certainly does not end here."

Dumbledore nodded his head sadly, but he directed his eyes over to where the trio were still standing behind the charmed window, watching the proceedings.

"I am sure that it doesn't, Remus. But, I should tell you that we are not alone."

Sirius frowned as he followed the direction of Dumbledore's gaze and his anger bubbled over with realization.

"_Harry James Potter_! Get in here this minute, young man."

From behind the enchanted window, Harry turned to his partners in crime and winced.

********

In the shadows of the darkened corridor, the dark lord's servant struggled to keep from cackling madly. It was all too easy to hoodwink those idiots at the apothecary into believing that they had approved authorization for all of the potion ingredients he needed. He had never had much use for Slughorn during his years at school. It was only his master's superior wisdom and instruction that allowed him to learn to brew the complex polyjuice.

And no one even suspected anything.

And why should they? He knew the castle as well as he knew his own face. Ha, he chuckled to himself. His real face, not the sallow mask that he had worn since before the beginning of term.

Dumbledore. What a joke. How could anyone ever believe that that self satisfied fop was a great wizard when he was harboring an enemy in his nest with absolutely no clue?

Of course no one would suspect a thing. It was the reason he had picked the target that he had for impersonation. A shadow, a ghost. Someone who was never even noticed or paid any attention to.

Someone almost invisible.

It was perfect. The perfect disguise and with the ability to be in the perfect place at the perfect time to implement the next stage in his master's plan.

They would all pay for dismissing him so easily.

***************

Sirius stood in front of his godson, his eyes a symphony of fury.

He had managed to keep his tongue firmly in his mouth as Fletcher and Dumbledore floo'd back to the headmaster's office and Remus herded the other two Gryffindors back to their dorm, but his patience was spent now and he was on the verge of an explosion.

"I trusted you, Harry," he snarled, his voice shaking in rage. "You _promised _that you would stay away from here today."

Harry squared his shoulders and remained perfectly still as he withstood the fire raging across his godfather's face. "I kept my promise, Sirius," he insisted. "You made me promise that I would stay out of the classroom and I did until you called me in here."

Sirius narrowed his eyes and sent his godson a scathing glare. "I don't find the humor in that, young man. You knew _exactly_ what I meant."

Harry let out a sigh, but he maintained eye contact, somehow managing to stay intact even though any other fully grown wizard would have yelped and withered under the penetrating blast of Sirius' gray eyes.

"I wasn't trying to be funny, Sirius. I understood exactly what you said and I agreed with you. I just wanted to be close by in case you needed me. I wasn't going to let myself be seen if you had to fight unless you were in trouble."

"_HARRY_..." Sirius began to yell before he caught himself and forced a semblance of calm to come over him. He would not allow his temper to get the better of him now. It would only lead to him doing or saying something he would regret. He took a deep breath and was about to try to speak in a quieter tone when Harry walked over to him slowly and pressed his face against Sirius' chest, wrapping small arms around his godfather's waist.

Sirius was too stunned for a minute to do or say anything. It wasn't like Harry to seek affection when he was being scolded. Reflexively, he put his own arms around his godson and was scared to realize that the small body was beginning to shake. Putting aside his anger, he pulled Harry closer to his chest and tightened his grip.

"It's alright, little one. I won't let anything hurt you. I promise," he soothed, thinking that the bizarre turn of events had frightened his godson.

He lifted a hand to stroke the back of Harry's head, but was stopped when the boy abruptly pulled away from him.

"I'm not worried about anyone hurting _me_, Sirius," he insisted. "I'm worried about someone hurting you _because_ of me."

Sirius let out a sigh of defeat. Exactly how many times were they going to have to have this same argument?

"Harry, it's not...," he began.

"My job to protect you," Harry finished agitatedly. "I know, Sirius."

Sirius rubbed his eyes tiredly, his head throbbing with tension. He just had no idea how to get through to his godson. Nothing was working. He tried talking to him, scolding him, reasoning with him, punishing him and still Harry could not get it through his head that he wasn't supposed to be the protector.

"Sirius, I'm not going to stop."

Those words snapped Sirius out of his momentary funk and brought him back to attention.

"What do you mean, you're not going to stop, young man? I'm your guardian and I am telling you that you _will _stop." Unconsciously, Sirius had put his hands on his hips and was doing a fair impersonation of his own father as he towered over Harry, staring down at the boy menacingly.

Harry didn't shrink back in fear, or even acknowledge that he was at all cowed by the words spewing from the older man's mouth. Instead he just held his ground and shook his head sadly.

"No."

Sirius' face went white with rage. He mentally began to count, trying to regain his composure. If he acted on his anger, he knew there was a very good chance that he could seriously hurt his godson and that was the absolutely last thing that he ever wanted to do. Harry saw his godfather struggling and took advantage of the man's silence.

"I love you, Sirius," he said simply. "And, even though you may not believe it, I do respect you. More than anybody else." Harry rubbed his head absently as he took deep fortifying breaths. Sirius would never know how much courage it was taking for him to speak to his beloved godfather this way.

"No one has come right out and said it, I think everyone is too afraid of scaring me, but I know that Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry expect me to destroy Voldemort some day. I'm young, Sirius, but I'm not an idiot. I know my place and my destiny. And there is no punishment you can give me that will change my mind."

Harry let his eyes drift down to the stone floor for the briefest of seconds and Sirius was unnerved by the first sign his godson had shown of wavering.

"I won't resist," Harry continued, trying to reassert his earlier confidence. "Do what you have to do. I'll understand and I'll accept it, but it won't change anything."

Sirius began to object, but Harry shook his head, wordlessly asking to be allowed to finish uninterrupted, and Sirius, not wanting to upset him further, allowed it.

"It's okay, you know. I don't mind. I owe him for my parents. But, if I'm expected to do what I have to do to save the entire wizarding world, you can't just expect me to sit back and let the only father that I've ever really known get hurt protecting me."

Sirius watched sadly as a single tear escaped Harry's eye and drifted south. His mouth went dry and he felt like he was drowning, helpless to comfort and care for the child standing in front of him, his young life already mapped out and accepted without complaint.

"I've already lost one father, Sirius. Please don't ask me to lose another one without a fight."

Sirius stared down at his godson and saw the determination on the boy's face and could hear the sincerity in his words and his heart jumped into his throat. He had never felt more fear than he did at that moment. Holding out his arms, he waited for Harry to come forward and then held on to his child as if for dear life.

He was drowning in anxiety, unsure of what he could do or say to prove to the boy that his own life meant nothing if it was given to save Harry's. No matter what, he had to find a way to protect his child from himself and his skewed notions of responsibility.

***********************

"I thought I would find you here."

Sirius didn't bother to look behind as he heard Remus approach. He had barely even noticed the passing of time when the sun set earlier. Even the encroaching chill of the night air had failed to garner his attention and his lips were almost blue.

Remus shot three balls of light into the air around them noticing, with dismay, his friend's physical state. Just looking at Sirius' shivering body made Remus feel positively glacial in sympathy. He quickly cast a warming charm over his friend and the soothing heat enveloped Sirius, helping to stir him out of his motionless state.

"How did you find me?" Sirius finally asked, his voice raspy from the damp night air.

Remus slid onto bench, sitting next to Sirius closely enough to share his body warmth with the chilled man.

"It wasn't too hard," he said, with a small chuckle. "I used the map," he admitted with a mock conspiratorial tone in his voice. The gesture worked. Sirius snickered slightly. Remus reached an arm around Sirius' shoulder and gave his friend a comforting squeeze.

"I didn't want to go back to your residence. I thought that you and Harry might need some privacy to address what happened earlier. But I checked, just to make sure that you were both inside and okay. Imagine my surprise when you weren't there."

"Is Harry okay?" Sirius asked quietly, trying to hide the hitch in his voice as he spoke.

"He's upset, although he is trying very hard to hide it. Dobby gave him his dinner earlier. He was studying when I left."

Sirius let out a deep sigh and leaned his head against the back of the bench. Far off in the distance, they heard the telltale splashing of the giant squid as it propelled itself across the lake. Neither one of them spoke for several minutes, the tension in the air was palpable. Finally, Remus slapped his thighs and stood.

"I'm going to apparate home. I don't want to embarrass Harry by staying over while you are punishing him. If you need anything, just floo me. I'm not planning on going anywhere for a while."

He turned to leave but was stopped by Sirius' voice.

"I'm not going to punish Harry, Remus."

Remus spun around and struggled to speak for a second.

"What?"

Sirius sat up straighter and looked Remus directly in the eyes.

"I'm not going to punish him."

"I don't understand, Sirius. He directly disobeyed you today. What if it had been a death eater and not Dung? He could have been kidnapped or killed!"

Sirius glared at his best friend, his eyes frosty.

"I'm well aware of that, Remus. Merlin, don't you think that I _know_ that?" His tone rose several decibels in volume as the fear took over again.

Remus shook his head in disbelief. Nothing was making sense.

"Then, I don't understand, Sirius. How can you just give him the impression that it was okay?"

Sirius' dropped his shoulders in defeat, a sad cloud passing over his face. He looked as if he had aged ten years since that morning.

"He knows that it wasn't okay, Moony. He didn't need me to tell him so. But he's a smart boy and a very brave lad. Definitely Prong's son." Sirius leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

"I just hope it doesn't wind up getting him killed. I can't lose him, Remus."

"Then, stop him, Sirius. You're the adult. Make sure he realizes that he can't do such foolish things." Remus' face was a mask of confusion as he tried to make sense of Sirius' inaction. He wasn't prepared for Sirius to turn on him in anger.

"I know that I'm the adult, Remus. You don't need to remind me. I have to act in my godson's best interests. I _know_ that."

Remus shook his head. "Then, I don't understand, Sirius. What are you going to do?"

Sirius glared at him, full fury back in his eyes. "I'm going to do what Albus should have done years ago. The only thing I can do to protect him."

The enraged godfather turned away and gazed off into the distance at the dark sky, the lights of the castle twinkling innocently beside them, masking the dangers that could lurk in its corridors.

"Will you help me?"

**********

The residence was dark and quiet by the time that Sirius made his way home. He had half expected to see Harry still sitting at the table where Remus had left him, but a quick glance at the clock revealed that it was well after ten and he inhaled a sharp breath. He had had no idea that he had been gone that long.

His talk with Remus had taken a lot out of him. Although he was becoming increasingly more comfortable with his decision, the reason for having had to make it was still gnawing at his gut like a disease. He could only pray that James and Lily would understand why he had made the choice he did.

What else could he do?

He knew his godson well enough by now to know that Harry wasn't bluffing earlier. Sirius had seen the blatant honesty and determination in is godson's face and posture to know, without a doubt, that he would continue to put himself in harm's way to protect those he loved.

It was a bitter pill for a loving godfather to swallow. No, he corrected himself, it was a bitter pill for a _father_ to swallow.

Harry was his son. Of that, he had no doubt.

As much as it stuck in his craw to admit that to himself, it was true. The very idea of it shamed him as he thought of his best friend, his brother. Harry was James' little boy. Sirius would never forget that.

Ever.

But, he knew that James was gone. As much as it pained him to admit it, it was the truth and there was no way around it. He couldn't be a father to Harry. A scared boy, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, could not be hugged and comforted by a few pictures in a photo album.

It didn't change the fact that James would _always_ be Harry's father. Sirius would make sure that Harry remembered and respected his father for everything that he was and everything that he had done. Neither of them could change the past though.

Sirius was here for Harry now, in all the ways that he could be. He was here to be a father for him, with all the difficult decisions that it entailed.

Including this one, which was possibly the hardest one that a parent ever had to make for a child.

Would James understand? He didn't think that Lily would. In the back of his mind he half expected and half hoped that the fiery redheaded witch would find a way to rise from the dead, just so that she could kick his arse for even being willing to contemplate such a thing. James might understand, though. It was only for Lily's sake that he had agreed to go into hiding when he would much rather have stayed and taken a stand.

He slipped off his outer robe and hung it up on the hook by the door. Dobby had left some sandwiches for him on the table, he saw, but he bypassed them quickly. He had absolutely no appetite. With a flick of his wand, he reignited the fire again. He would have to speak with the house elves about making sure that it stayed lit. He didn't want Harry to catch a cold in the drafty atmosphere of the tower.

There was no light underneath Harry's door and he was surprised by that. He hadn't thought that his godson would be able to sleep easily after today. Frowning with concern, he slipped quietly over to the door and gently pushed it open.

Harry was asleep on his bed in the darkened room. Sirius could seen the distinct outline of the boy's form underneath the large down comforter that kept him warm in the chilly air. Harry was laying on his side with his back to the door and Sirius watched the slow rhythmic motion of the blanket moving up and down with his breathing.

He moved silently over to the side of the bed and gently sat down on the edge. Taking a moment, he reached out a tentative hand and softly brushed Harry's cheek with the backs of his fingers. In his sleep, his face peaceful, Harry looked more like the sweet baby he had been rather than the determined hardened teenager that he was becoming.

Harry's earlier stance had frightened him in its steadfast determination. Frightened him because he knew, without a doubt, that the boy he loved was starting to grow up. Harry would be a fine man someday. Sirius just felt wretched that circumstances may result in him having to grow up sooner than he should have had to worry about.

Perched next to his godson, who was hopefully resting easily, he could have sat there all night. But, he had work to do, plans to make, so he stood up and turned to leave. Before he got to the door, he heard Harry turn over.

"Are you still mad?"

Turning back around, he saw his godson, obviously awake, and cursed himself for not just letting the boy sleep. His heart broke as he took in the sad sorrowful look on Harry's face, half buried in his pillow. Making his way back across the room, he took his earlier position on the bed, leaning over to kiss the top of his godson's head.

"I'm not mad, Harry. I'm disappointed."

Harry winced and his face fell even further than it had just been. "I'm sorry, Sirius," he whispered.

Sirius rubbed his godson's small back, trying to soothe him, the look on Harry's face cutting him like a sword.

"I'm not disappointed in you, Harry," he assured the boy. Harry looked unconvinced. "I swear," Sirius stated a little more forcefully.

Harry closed his eyes and enjoyed the comforting feeling of having his back rubbed. Earlier, he had been so scared that his godfather was just going to give him up as a disrespectful lost cause that couldn't be managed properly. He had wanted to be able to promise Sirius that he would obey him, that he would promise to be good and do what he was told. But he couldn't do that honestly when it came to protecting those he loved. He could never make that promise.

The soothing motion slowed and Harry opened his eyes to see his godfather staring down at him sadly. Harry felt wretched that he was bringing so much grief and anxiety to the father he loved so much. No matter how much Harry justified his position earlier in his own mind, he knew that he had disobeyed Sirius and it tore at his heart to have done it. He wouldn't change what he did, but it bothered him just the same.

He had been deeply upset when Sirius had not come back to the residence for dinner. No message, no note. Just Dobby popping in to bring him a tray of food, telling him that Sirius was out for a while and for Harry to go ahead and eat without him. Dejected, Harry had just pushed his food around on the plate for awhile, ignoring Dobby's disapproving look when he had come back to get the dishes.

Even Remus didn't know what Sirius was doing, leaving Harry sitting at the table alone and confused, not knowing how badly he may have alienated his godfather with his behavior.

He exhaled deeply now, both happy that Sirius had returned and was treating him just as lovingly as he always had, but also knowing that he needed to put his money where his mouth was. Propping himself up on his elbow, he steeled his resolve and looked straight into his godfather's eyes.

"Are you going to punish me now, or in the morning?" he asked, his jaw firm, but his voice wavering. He was hoping to just get it over with. He hated having to wait.

Sirius continued his gentle ministrations, trying to keep his godson from getting too worked up. The boy had already had quite a day.

"I'm not going to punish you, Harry." He paused, taking in the confused and disbelieving stare on his child's face.

"I'm going to teach you how to fight."


	14. Chapter 14

A/N I know, I know, I'm late, lol. Sorry all. I wanted to post yesterday, but I found myself being dragged along on a haunted hayride. It was fun, but I've been coughing and sneezing all day!

Thanks, as always, to all of my readers and reviewers. You guys make my day!

*****************

The exquisitely cut crystal dish taunted him.

Filled to the brim with the pale yellow sugary rounds, it served as a constant reminder of the life of duplicity that he had been forced to live every single day since he was a young boy of ten years old.

Only on truly dark days did he allow himself to remember the defining event of his youth.

Only on the days when the web of lies and deception that he forced himself to be shrouded by practically choked him in their constraints, did he spare a moment to remember the day when he first found himself capable of burying strong personal emotion for a greater good.

The day when his young carefree existence came to a crashing halt. The vicious attack on his small baby sister.

Arianna.

Just the mental recollection of the name caused him to gasp audibly, bile rising up into his throat, as he choked back a sob and vomit.

Even now he could still recall, with perfect clarity, the manic look of shock and horror in her pale blue eyes that appeared after her attack and remained right up to the moment that their father was imprisoned in Azkaban. After that day, the precious blue windows to her soul became vacant and hollow. Even in the throes of hysteria, her eyes never showed a hint of emotion ever again.

He had been old enough to realize what had happened, both to his sister and then to his father. He knew what Azkaban was, and was even familiar enough with the spectre of the horrors awaiting the inmates there to realize the enormity of his father's sacrifice.

******

_When the aurors had come to collect his father, he had been unable to let go of the man, his small arms gripping frantically around his father's waist even as his mother stood dry eyed and strong while his younger brother kept Arianna quiet in her room. They couldn't afford to let the aurors see the little girl in her fragile state._

_That would undue all of Father's efforts._

_Finally, his mother had pried his arms away, never once looking her husband in the eye. As the little boy watched his father be led off down the small cobblestone path of their garden, he managed to summon up enough strength to pull away from his mother's resisting grip._

_"It's not too late, Mummy!" he had whimpered. "Just tell them!"_

_He didn't make it to the door before his mother caught him again. With firm arms wrapped securely around his chest, she had practically dragged the protesting child back to the table in the corner of the small parlor. She had pushed him firmly down into a chair and fixed a hard glare at him._

_"No."_

_She didn't show any emotion as her son pleaded with her with his own piercing blue eyes, glazed over and swimming in unshed tears._

_"No, my darling. We cannot ever speak of this again. We must protect Arianna," she had said, her eyes blank, her tone flat._

_"But Father," he had started to protest._

_"Is doing what he must for her, and we need to do the same," she had insisted, a small spark of fire flickering on her face._

_He swallowed the rest of his argument. He had felt lost, drowning in disbelief. What had happened to their happy little family?_

_His mother had stood up then, her face determined as she meticulously smoothed out the small wrinkles in her robe and stretched to her full proud height. Crossing the room, she stood in front of the fireplace and absently swirled her finger around the contents of the small crystal dish._

_"You know what you have to do, Albus. You know what you have to say now," she reminded him in a voice that no longer sounded like his mother. She turned then and affixed a hard glare at her eldest child._

_He had nodded sadly, his mouth twitching in anticipation of the deception that he was being forced to participate in._

_He watched as his mother strode determinedly back over to where he was sitting hunched over in his chair._

_"You are a good boy, Albus," she had assured him. "I know that you will do what you need to do to keep your sister safe. Her safety is worth the lies you must tell, my son."_

_He had stared at her, as if he had never truly seen her before. Behind him, he could hear the sound of his baby sister's bedroom door opening. Turning, he looked into the face of his little brother, seeing nothing but confusion on the small boy's face. Before he could offer any words of comfort, the silence of the house was shattered by the piercing scream coming from Arianna's pink rosebud mouth and, with that, he knew that his mother was right._

_Turning back around to face his mother's expectant glare, he stood up and squared his shoulders._

_"Alright, Mummy."_

_His mother had shown no emotion over his acquiescence, the only outward sign of her relief being the almost imperceptible release of the small breath she had been holding in. Holding out the small crystal dish she had been carrying, she offered it to her son, shaking it slightly._

_"Life can be bitter, my son," she had said in an almost sing-song voice. "Sometimes we need something to take the taste out of our mouths."_

_Even as he began to hate his mother, he kept his emotions tucked in. Sparing a quick glance out of the corner of his eye for his younger siblings who were now truly dependent upon him as the man of the house, he reached forward and plucked one of the yellow rounds out of the dish._

_Popping it in his mouth, he sucked on the sugary yellow tang of the sweet and returned his mother's hard glare as he felt his childhood die._

****

That had only been the first of many times he had found himself forced to perpetrate a lie.

Over the course of a long and eventful life, he had been required to manipulate and deceive on a regular basis in his quest to wage a war for the light. Not that it was any excuse. The lies never came any easier, no matter how long he had told them, no matter how much he needed to tell them.

The day he had found his own face on a chocolate frog card, he had laughed humorlessly, cruelly reminded of just how appropriate it was that he, the master of lies and deception, should find himself so prominently represented on the sweets he so heavily relied on to keep the bitterness of his life out of his mouth.

As he sat at his desk, he absently noted the soft trilling of his familiar on his perch, probably an attempt to comfort the old wizard. He spared a brief moment to absorb the lilting sound, a soothing balm on his blighted soul. He gently traced the cut grooves of the little crystal dish, like an addict who reverently stroked the implement of his next fix.

The soft chimes of his clock sounded, all too soon heralding the sharp rap on his heavy wooden door. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath.

"Come in," he said quietly, desperately trying to inject some welcoming softness in his voice.

The door opened, and he unwillingly opened his eyes to take in the furious glare of the enraged man. Swallowing hard, he pushed the little dish aside. He would not partake of his crutch today. Today he would speak only truths.

"Hello, Sirius."

*************

Harry groaned a little as he flexed his writing hand.

Glancing at his watch he realized, with dismay, that they had been working for almost two hours. He sneeked a quick peek at Professor McGonagall and was immediately cowed by her withering stare. He gave her a small grimace of apology and returned to his parchment. Dipping his quill in the slightly battered inkwell, he sighed and began to write again.

_I will refrain from constantly transfiguring myself into a danger magnet._

Over and over and over.....

As he repeatedly scratched out the words onto his parchment, he sighed deeply. Leaning slightly to the left, he lifted his left elbow onto his desk and propped his head against his elevated hand. On either side of him, Ron and Hermione suffered the same repetitive exercise, Hermione still blushing furiously from enduring a detention.

He should have known when Sirius said that he wasn't going to punish him, that it had been too good to be true. While his godfather had not placed any restrictions on him, as well as refraining from placing _anything else_ on him, Sirius had not been above cheerfully ratting out Harry and his friends to their head of house.

Harry had stood disbelieving in the residence, his eyes wide with betrayal, when Sirius informed him that Professor McGonagall would see him and his mates after their last class of the day for a detention for putting themselves into harm's way.

As the Deputy Headmistress, Minerva knew about the ruse with Fletcher, although she had been wholly unaware of Sirius' ingnorance of the matter. Upon hearing the tale, she had been less than amused with the trio's constant penchant for danger and her ire with the headmaster was such that she fervently wished she could have ordered him to her classroom to sit detention with the three little miscreants she currently had in front of her.

Even when Harry had pointedly reminded his godfather that he was a Marauder, a breaker of school rules, Sirius had merely crossed his arms and stared coolly at the boy's indignant face. Yes, he was a Marauder, Sirius had admitted, but now he was a parent first and a professor second.

Continuing to posture for a moment, as he thought a fourteen year old boy should, Harry had been too inwardly touched by Sirius' firm declaration of his position of parent first to stay mad at his godfather for long and he had allowed Sirius a longer hug than usual as they left the residence for the day.

Now with his stomach beginning to growl in complaint, he gritted his teeth in hopes that his professor would take pity on them and let them leave for dinner soon.

****

"Have a seat, my boy."

Sirius glared at the headmaster, making no attempt to hide his extreme displeasure over the man's duplicity. Only in deference of the long standing respect he had held for Dumbledore, had he deigned to give the old wizard this one chance to explain his actions and rectify the situation before Sirius packed up his godson and returned to the relative safety of Celestial Court for good.

Summoning all of the well bred manners that had been beaten into him, Sirius walked calmly over to the chairs in front of the large imposing desk and gracefully settled himself into one. Resting his elbows on the armrests, he crossed his long elegant legs and stared expectantly into the cool blue eyes of the older man. Eyes that were conspicuously missing their trademark twinkle.

With his honed habit of observation, Sirius noticed the slight twitch of the headmaster's hand towards the ever present sweets dish although, he realized somewhat shocked, the old wizard refrained from making his usual offer. The absence of this set the younger man on edge, even as he fought to keep his emotions in check.

"I would imagine that you are quite displeased with me, Sirius," he noted sadly.

"Very."

Sirius wondered if Albus knew exactly how hurt and betrayed he felt by the man's actions. He was even more upset by the blatant lies to his face regarding his godson's safety than he had been by Dumbledore's inaction in freeing him from his false imprisonment.

Dumbledore leaned back into his large Gothic chair, his index fingers steepled against his bearded chin in thought.

"I'm not sure if there is anything I could say in my defense that would convince you that my actions were done in Harry's best interests," he stated sadly.

Sirius was surprised by the man's tone. He had never heard the old wizard sound quite so defeated. It almost made him feel badly about the way he had treated him yesterday.

Almost.

"Albus," he began, struggling to maintain his composure, "when we spoke over the summer about my reluctance to allow Harry to come back to Hogwarts, you assured me that you were making the appropriate arrangements to secure his safety." He paused, sparing a quick second to acknowledge the small nod of agreement by the other wizard.

"You told me that you had arranged for Alastor to come out of retirement in order to provide a deterrent for any death eater attacks. You _knew_ that my respect for him was such that I would agree to his presence here as enough of an assurance." Sirius found himself struggling to keep the hurt out of his voice. He knew that the headmaster had clearly heard it.

"Yes," Albus admitted quietly. "I did what I had to do to ensure that Harry returned this year. It is of vital importance that he continue his education. You know that as well as I do. However, I give you my word that I did secure Alastor's consent to teach here this year. I was quite honest with you about that."

He paused, waiting for an appropriate amount of time to pass to allow Sirius to take in his words before proceeding.

"It wasn't until after we spoke that I came across a unique opportunity to weaken Voldemort's position should he ever find the means to resurface. Alastor's participation was crucial to the success of the operation."

At this, Sirius had to restrain himself from shooting up from his chair in surprise.

"What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Albus?"

Dumbledore paused, in quiet contemplation. It was troubling. In a perfect scenario, the fewer people that knew of Alastor's quest, the better. He would have gone himself and eliminated the need to inform anyone of his discovery if he could have found a way to be as absent as the journeys would require him to be. It was better suited that he stay at the castle and tend to the intellectual pursuit of the next location and leave the physical search and destroy tasks to the highly capable auror.

As Sirius waited, his impatience growing exponentially as the seconds of an unanswered questioned ticked by, the old headmaster could see that wishes were not horses today. He drew a deep breath, attempting to formulate a carefully worded response, but apparently Sirius had had enough. The younger man made to stand, a hostile expression splashed across his handsome face.

"It's clear that we are just running about in circles, Albus. Harry and I are going home." He turned to leave but was stopped by the quiet voice behind him.

"Sirius, have you ever heard of a Horcrux?"

********

Ron's writing hand didn't suffer so much damage that it interfered with his ability to shovel heavily laden forkfuls of food into his mouth at an indelicate pace. Hermione, daintily cutting up her chicken, shot disapproving glares at the redhead who was inhaling everything within stabbing distance. From his side of the table, Harry snorted in amusement, enjoying the ability to eat dinner with his mates in the Great Hall for the first time since term began.

Sirius had excused him from family dinner tonight, explaining his need to prepare the room where he would be giving Harry his first practical offense lesson after the meal. Too excited about the evening's upcoming event to eat, the good humored boy just sat at the table enjoying the companionship. His lack of enthusiasm for the meal did not go unnoticed by the bushy haired girl sitting across from him.

"Harry, you need to eat _something _before your lesson tonight," she scolded him in a very Mrs. Weasley type of voice.

In truth, Ron and Hermione were both suitably impressed with Sirius' willingness to teach Harry some practical offense. Secretly, they were hoping to be the recipients of some second hand instruction from Harry as well.

Rolling his eyes at the overtly mothering tone, Harry good naturedly complied by stuffing a large chunk of the roast chicken in his mouth. Hermione nodded in approval and then giggled, knowing that Harry was just humoring her. Ron didn't seem to notice, other than to note that the more Harry ate, the less there was for himself.

Mouth full, Ron practically spit at them as he spoke.

"Your godfather is wicked, mate. I can't believe that he is actually going to teach you how to attack someone." The tone in Ron's voice was one of admiration and it immediately drew Hermione's displeasure as well as Harry's protests.

"It's not like that, Ron. He's really doing it for defense, but he said that a good defense wasn't worth anything unless you had a strong offense to go with it. If I ever had to duel someone for real, I couldn't very well just stand there and deflect the spells and do nothing else to diffuse the situation."

Harry had found himself getting very defensive, but he need not have worried. Ron agreed to his answer as it nothing else would ever make more sense and Hermione had simply nodded sagely.

"Will you show us what you learn tonight when you get back?" Ron asked as he loaded another mouthful of au gratin potatoes. Harry grimaced and Hermione glared at the oblivious redhead.

"I can't," Harry grumbled unhappily. "Still grounded, remember?" The very thought of Malfoy's obnoxious little face made him want to punch the annoying Slytherin again.

Immediately, Ron's face went as red as his hair. "Sorry, mate. I forgot."

"Well, Harry shouldn't be hitting other students anyway," Hermione admonished both of the boys. At their twin indignant looks, she smiled craftily. "That's _my_ job."

Her words had the desired effect. Snorting in amusement, all three drew curious looks from the rest of the Gryffindors, some of whom thought that it was nice to see the members of the Golden Trio in such good moods together again.

"Brilliant, Hermione," Ron gushed, full of genuine affection. "That's why we love you so much."

The words were barely out of his mouth before his face flushed the deepest red that either of his friends had ever seen before. For her part, Hermione became noticeably flustered and both the redhead and the brunette immediately took pains to look in different directions. From the safety of his vantage point, Harry smirked.

"All I ask is that you two don't snog in my face all day long. Alright?" His eyes and voice were teasing and the embarrassed couple turned back to first stare at him and then at each other. Damning the consequences, Ron reached out tentatively and took Hermione's hand in his under the table, causing the suddenly shy girl to break out into a beautiful smile.

"Alright, mate. We'll keep it to a minimum," Ron assured him, silently thanking whatever deity was listening for his best friend's easy acceptance of the abrupt change in their relationship. He turned back to Harry when he heard his friend clear his throat, the black haired boy's facial expression becoming very serious.

"Also, I'm putting you on notice that I think of Hermione as my sister so, if you do anything to hurt her, it won't be Malfoy that I'm punching," Harry stated very firmly.

Ron looked at Harry's face carefully, trying to find any sign of teasing or ribbing in his position. He was a little horrified, as well as strangely a little relieved to find that there wasn't any. Harry was dead serious in his warning.

"I won't mate," he promised, just as sincerely as Hermione looked firstly at Harry, surprised by his protective stance and then at Ron, surprised by his acquiescence.

An only child with no experience with brothers, she wasn't sure whether or not to be offended by the idea that she needed protecting. Straightening up on the bench, she raised one eyebrow and attempted to assert herself.

"Thank you, Harry. But I'm sure I can handle Ronald," she stated in an imperious tone.

Amused, Harry hid the smile that threatened to break out and settled for nodded agreeably. "Of course you can, Hermione." His words of assurance smoothed her feathers and she returned her attention to her pudding, not catching the look Harry threw Ron reaffirming his earlier position.

*********

Sirius had just returned to his office for a brief moment when a sharp rap on his door preceded the arrival of unwelcome company by mere seconds.

"I want a word with you, Black!" the familiar and all too detested voice spat out.

Sirius restrained his initial impulse to transfigure the intruder into slug and contented himself to merely rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"Lucius," he greeted coldly, never taking his eyes from the parchment on his desk. "It's not nice to see you, so I don't feel the need to lie about that. To what do I owe this unexpected and thoroughly unwanted intrusion into my office?"

"Your _godson_ broke my Draco's nose!" he hissed, the inflection in his voice pronouncing godson as if it were profanity. "I demand that he make a formal and public apology for his attack on my son."

Sirius sighed deeply, the level of his participation in this particular conversation bordering on nil. While he certainly did not approve of his godson's actions, he felt that he had dealt with it fairly. _More_ than fairly, he thought. It was time to end this little charade, especially as his head was still aching monstrously from the reveal during his meeting with the headmaster.

Raising himself slowly to his full height, he assumed his most haughty pure blood air and looked the pompous fop directly in the eyes.

"My godson was defending the honor of a lady as well as that of his head of house," he drawled, relishing the sneer that appeared on Lucius' face at the invocation of Hermione's role in the altercation.

"But, if you insist, I will make him apologize."

At those words, the sneer on Lucius' face grew into epic proportions, but Sirius was not nearly finished with the upstart.

"Harry will apologize to Draco, just as soon as Draco apologizes to both Miss Granger and myself." Watching the blood rise into the pale blonde's angular face, Sirius bit back a snort before continuing. "Formally _and_ publicly."

Lucius began to snicker and looked at Sirius as if the younger man had gone daft in the past thirty seconds.

"No son of mine will ever apologize to a filthy little Mudblood for anything, I assure you," he replied in his most haughty manner.

Sirius had reached his limit on patience however. He was already tired and he was about to be late in meeting Harry for their first lesson. Besides which, this little farce of a power play had effectively run its course as far as he was concerned. Squaring his shoulders, he glared menacingly at the other man, subtly reminding him of his stature as the head of the Black family.

"This has gone far enough, Lucius," he seethed, barely keeping his temper in check. "I would remind you that the Malfoy name is not as grand as it once was. You only enjoy your current comforts in society because of your wife's family name, which, coincidentally enough, happens to be mine."

He had Lucius' attention now, but the long haired snake refused to show an ounce of acknowledgement to the thinly veiled threat. As such, Sirius decided to pull the veil off completely.

"Due to the constraints on my time currently, I have not been interested in seeking out my rightful positions as head of the Black family." Sirius was gratified to see that Lucius had just acquired a slightly paler shade of nervousness.

"At this time, I do not find that I have any inclination to join neither the Ministry's Oversight Committee, the board of Gringott's nor even Hogwart's Board of Governors," Sirius continued, enjoying the increasing pallor on Lucius' face.

"I know that, since Regulus' untimely death, and what with dear Rodolphus' unfortunate incarceration, you have shouldered the mantle of the Black family seats of these institutions," he simpered mockingly as he clucked his tongue. "What hardships they must be."

Lucius could recognize a threat when he saw one. Everything that was issuing forth from Sirius' mouth was the absolute truth and it sickened him to feel a sudden sense of unease over the potential loss of his lofty positions in the wizarding world. The Malfoys had once been a proud family, beyond reproach family.

Unfortunately, Lucius' father possessed both a mean streak and a drinking problem. Not many outside the small inner family circle knew that Abraxas had systematically drunk away the family fortune. It was only Lucius' auspcious marriage to Narcissa Black, along with the unforeseeable chain of events that left the Black family without a male member to represent them in the higher order of social standing that had allowed Lucius to regain his family's tenuous grip on respectability.

Now that Sirius was out of prison, his good name cleared, he posed a distinct and immediate threat to the comfort of the Malfoy family's recently regained wealth and privilege. He could, at any time, reclaim his rightful seats.

It would be Lucius' ruin. Even his allegience to the Dark Lord did not outweigh his allegience to himself and the prosperity of his family.

Sirius enjoyed watching the other man squirm as the wild and disturbing realizations coursed through his mind. However, all fun must come to an end. Checking his watch, he noted that he was soon to be late in meeting Harry so this little encounter must come to an end.

"Relax, Lucy. I'm not looking to unseat you today. You are more than welcome to sit on the various thrones and continue to profit and judge," he said with a smirk.

Lucius glanced at him, as if not truly believing his good fortune in his cousin by marriage's generosity. His elation at this unexpected turn of events was put on hold the moment he saw Sirius' eyes go from pleasant silver to steel gray.

"But," Sirius said warningly, his tone deadly dangerous, "if I find that you, your wife or your son are involved in plotting anything against me or, more importantly, my godson, I assure you that I will knock you off your pedestal so fast, you will never even know what had hit you. Before you do anything foolish, think about whether or not you would like to see me use my position as head of the family to insist that Narcissa divorce you, even as I take custody of your son."

Lucius seethed at the words. This was no idle threat and they both knew it. As head of the Black family, Sirius certainly had that power in the wizarding world. Lucius didn't acknowlege the threat, preferring to turn on his heel and prepare to stomp out of the classroom.

"Oh, Lucius," he heard Sirius call from behind him. "I should tell you that I don't like your kind of language to be used in my classroom. Since you are so concerned with how I curb my godson's behavior, let me give you a little demonstration of what I would do if he had your foul mouth. _Scourgify_!"

Lucius' eyes went wide as he felt his mouth fill with foul tasting soap bubbles. Sputtering and enraged, he reached into his cane to extract his wand, only to feel the tip of another pressed firmly against his neck.

"Ah, ah, ah, _cousin_," Sirius snarled quietly in his ear. "Manners matter. Remember what I have said this evening.

Livid, Lucius could only glare as the spell ended. He would extract payback. If not today, then certainly another day. He turned abruptly and stomped out leaving a grinning Sirius behind.

*******

Harry was standing patiently in a seventh floor corridor. Bored, he was studiously examining the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy that his godfather had told him about. Cocking his head to the side, he felt a little sick from the visual images stitched into the massive fabric.

From down the corridor, he could hear the sound of approaching footsteps, along with his godfather's good natured greeting.

"Hey, there, kiddo. Sorry I'm late."

Sirius watched in amusement as his godson's face scrunched up as he analyzed the carefully embroidered artwork. "Are those _trolls_, Sirius? Dancing _ballet_?" Harry asked in horror.

Sirius snickered as he bent down and planted a kiss on top of Harry's black spikes. "Unfortunately, yes," he answered with a laugh. Such was Harry's concentration on the unusual art subject that he didn't even notice his godfather walked back and forth in front of the tapestry three times, a look of intense concentration on his face.

It wasn't until he felt, rather than actually saw, the wall melt into a doorway that he paid closer attention to his surroundings. Harry's mouth made an 'o' of surprise as he stared at the newly forming portal. To his side, Sirius grinned, remembering what it had been like when the Marauders first found the opening for themselves.

When the door finished its transformation, Sirius put a hand on the small of Harry's back and edged the boy forward. Harry, curious as always, needed little prompting to investigate a new wonder of Hogwarts. He pushed forward, finding himself in a large room filled with exercise mats, partitions and large, randomly placed padded rocks. Turning back, he caught the look of amusement on his godfather's face.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement, Harry."

Sirius continued to smile as he fully entered the room. To Harry's amazement, the door that had formed vanished, leaving a seamless wall in its place.

"I love magic," he exclaimed quietly, his godfather grinning like a madman to see the boy's delight.

Sirius strode to the center of the room and clapped his hands together. Withdrawing his wand, he muttered a quiet incantation and Harry watched as the thin stick of wood glowed white briefly before returning to normal.

"What did you just do?" he asked curiously.

"I cast a spell to ensure that all hexes and jinxes that I direct at you tonight act exactly like I intend them." He reached his hand out. "Let me have your wand. I'll do the same for yours."

Harry reached into his pocket and drew out the long thin holly wand that was like an extension of his arm. Willingly, he handed it over to his godfather who immediately frowned.

"Rule number one, Harry. Never give another wizard your wand. You don't know who they may be," he admonished the boy who had gone a deep shade of red from the early rebuke. That being said, Sirius flicked the wand, giving it a jaunty little _swish_ at the end.

"_Meditatius_!"

Immediately, Harry's wand glowed a bright white and then returned to normal. Sirius handed it back to the bemused boy, who was now holding it gingerly. Harry had half expected his wand to be hot to the touch or feel differently, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was just as familiar as it has always been.

"Why did you do that?"

"It's like a safety feature for your wand, Harry," Sirius explained. "When we come here to practice our dueling, I want you to be able to become familiar with casting more and more powerful spells, hexes and jinxes. What I have done is to make your wand respond to the spells being cast correctly. If they are done correctly, there will be physical contact, but nothing harmful to either of us."

He saw the look of confusion on his godson's face and tried to clarify. "All advanced spells need to be practiced before a wizard casts them for real. Merlin, Harry. You didn't think that aurors in training went around hexing each other's limbs off, did you?"

Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather's teasing. "No, I suppose not," he answered sheepishly. "So, when I hex you, you won't actually feel anything?"

"No, I didn't say that. You'll feel the hex, but it won't have any of the dangers for actual injury associated with it. Just think of it as a reminder that your guard was let down enough to allow you to be hit. It's only practice, after all."

Sirius took a formal stance in the middle of the room, motioning for his godson to join him. Feeling slightly cocky about his dueling abilities, Harry swaggered over to where his godfather was standing and turned around, pressing his back to Sirius' much larger one. Having once been a part of Lockhart's ill fated dueling club, Harry was confident in his abilities to recall all the niceties and protocol of wizard dueling.

For Sirius' part, he noticed immediately, the overconfident manner of his godson's presence and smiled wryly. Harry had no idea what he was in for. If he did this right, he would be teaching his headstrong child more than one kind of lesson tonight.

Whipping their wands up in front of their faces, Sirius counted off the paces as they each strode away from the other. Clenching his jaw shut, he pushed back any feelings of guilt he might have and forced himself to turn before the count was up. Spinning around gracefully, he lifted his wand and fired off half a dozen jinxes at his unsuspecting boy.

Halfway across the room, Harry was jerked to abrupt halt by the stinging nettle-like pain that was spreading across his backside. In horrified surprised, he awkwardly spun around and threw his godfather a nasty glare, absently rubbing the assaulted area.

"What are you doing?" he cried. "You didn't finish the count. How was that fair?"

Sirius inwardly winced at the hurt tone in the boy's voice, but he couldn't afford to back down. "No, it wasn't fair," he admitted. "Lesson number two, little one. Death Eaters don't play by the rules. Never turn your back on an opponent."

Harry seethed at his godfather's words. He became more determined than ever that he would show Sirius exactly how good of a fighter he was.

"I'm not going to teach you the etiquette of dueling, kiddo. There is nothing eloquent or elegant about fighting for your life. You must be constantly on your guard, constantly aware of your surroundings and advantages. Constant vigilance," he intoned firmly, no longer upset with the actual Moody.

Harry couldn't help but smirk at the reference. His anger receded a little and he stood patiently, awaiting further instruction. Sirius looked at him sadly. Harry was so young. Too young to have to face the worries that had brought them here tonight. He needed to make a strong impression on the boy as to just how unprepared he was for the fight he had ahead of him.

"I know we taught you the shield charm over the summer. Remember to try to use it and, if you feel comfortable with it, try to hex me at the same time. Don't worry about the hexes you throw right now, none of them will do any real damage, I promise. Just see if you can get my attention. But remember, I'm going to be attacking you as well."

Harry nodded determinedly and steeled his posture, his wand gripped so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were slowly becoming white. He wasn't going to let his godfather get the best of him this time. At Sirius' inquiring stare, Harry nodded curtly, signaling his readiness to engage once again.

Sirius allowed Harry to shoot off one jelly legs jinx that he neatly side stepped before he began his assault. With blurring speed and unwavering accuracy, he fired off hex after hex, his method and techniques honed by years of auror training and determined practice over the summer. Harry cast a shield charm which was enough to block the first few hexes, but Sirius had cast dozens and the boy was soon running for the cover of one of the padded boulders, desperately trying to get out of the path of the stinging hexes that seemed to be finding their way onto his bottom with surprising accuracy.

Sirius had been hoping that his particular method of spell delivery would ignite a fight or flight reaction in his godson and he was gratified to see that Harry was at least trying to act defensively, even if his offensive skills were non-existent.

Scowling behind the boulder, the heaving boy gritted his teeth as he psyched himself up to go back on the offensive. When he perceived a lull in his godfather's spell casting, he shot his head up and fired off a disarming spell, but once again, Sirius was too quick. He deftly ducked the spell and, with rapid fire precision, he cast a couple dozen more hexes, eliciting a disgruntled yelp from the child who had left the safety of the boulder to run quickly over to shoot behind one of the partitions.

Sirius waited a couple of minutes to ferret out the boy's next move. Moving cautiously around the obstacles, he perked his ears up to see if he could hear any telltale sounds of an approaching attack. To his dismay, all he heard was the nearly silent sniffling that was coming from behind the partition closest to the door. His shoulders slumped in sadness, he made his way over quietly and found Harry standing with his back against the partition, his face red and his arms crossed over his chest.

"I thought you weren't going to punish me," Harry muttered in an accusing tone, his eyes cast down to the floor, his bottom burning as if he had sat on a lit stove. All the excitement of learning how to fight was washed away with the belief that his godfather's attempt to teach him offensive moves was, in reality, nothing more than a magical paddling.

Sirius sighed, his heart heavy with guilt, but his methods had proved effective.

"I didn't punish you, Harry," he replied matter-of-factly. "I dueled with you. You lost."

Harry raised his head and glared daggers at his godfather's audacity. "That's rubbish! You can't do that. It's not right."

Sirius reached out and took Harry's chin in his hand. "Is it any different from you promising me that you wouldn't go inside Moody's classroom, only to skirt around the actual words of your promise by staying just outside of it?"

Harry gave his godfather a poisonous look and tried to jerk his chin out of the man's grip, but Sirius held firm.

"A man's word is his bond, Harry. I want you to grow up to be a man of honor, like your father was. I don't want to see you become someone who manipulates his words, relying on their literal interpretation to get away with things that he shouldn't."

Harry winced, feeling slightly guilty about his deception, but he refused to come out and admit it.

"It still wasn't fair," he pouted, more than a bit put out by his godfather's lesson. "You were an auror. I can't cast spells as quickly as you can. I thought we would start slowly. Isn't that how a student learns?"

Sirius shook his head sadly. "That person masquerading as Alastor could have been a death eater, Harry. Some of them are just as skilled, if not more so, than an auror. A death eater would not have stood by and only cast one spell at a time waiting for you to catch up. Do you understand now how unprepared you were? How scared I am for your safety when you tell me that you don't plan on curbing your determination to rush headlong into trouble?"

Harry watched, thunderstruck, as Sirius crouched down and shot him a pleading stare, his gray eyes pained and troubled. "If it had been an enemy in Moody's classroom, you could have been killed in an instant. You don't know what you are up against. I'm not going to lose you like this, Harry. I won't."

Harry looked away, crushed with helplessness and sadness. He was a failure. Seeing his distress, Sirius stood back up and pulled him into an embrace.

"I meant what I said, Harry. I'm going to teach you how to fight. It's important for you to learn. But it is equally important for you to learn that, even though you have the heart of a lion, you are still just a boy. You are not invulnerable. No matter how much you want to believe that you are."

Harry wrapped his arms around his godfather and pressed the side of his head against Sirius' chest, taking comfort in the sound of the man's beating heart. It soothed him for a moment, calming the raging storm inside of him that threatened to lash out with his tumultuous emotions. He understood what his godfather was trying to say, but it was so hard knowing how little he could actually do against a real threat.

"Are you really going to teach me?" he asked quietly.

Sirius hugged him tighter in response and Harry felt comforted by the firmer embrace. "I am," Sirius promised. "When we come back the next time, we'll do this for real. We'll start slowly and I won't even use my special little hex to get my points across," he teased. Giving the boy a last quick squeeze, he held Harry away from him a bit and stared firmly into the green eyes.

"But Harry, there will be no more running off into danger recklessly. My lessons are not to encourage you to try to find ways to use them. The next time you pull a stunt like the one you did yesterday, there will be repercussions. No matter what you think your role is in this fight, you are still my responsibility until you become of age. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Harry nodded and gave his godfather an apologetic look. "Yes, sir."

Sirius exhaled heavily and threw an arm around his godson's shoulders. "Let's go in for the night. If we hurry, I might be persuaded to make some more cocoa and tell you about one of the best pranks your mother ever pulled before you take your bath."

Harry snorted and allowed his godfather to lead him out. "Who did she prank?"

Sirius squeezed him tighter and dropped a quick kiss on the top of his head. "Why, your father of course. Come on, little one. I'll tell you all about it."

**************


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Sorry sorry sorry for the delay. I've been working on a big project at work and have just been brain dead. Please forgive me and I'll give you two new chapters this week to make up for it, lol.

I know that some of my readers called foul on the little lesson that Sirius taught Harry in the last chapter. I have a few very specific reasons for writing it the way that I did.

Firstly, I agree that Harry has strong defense abilities, but he is still just beginning his fourth year here and, in canon, he was having trouble with spells. For example, it was only through Hermione's tutoring that he managed to achieve success with the summoning spell to get through the first task. So, while he does have natural talent, he is still very inexperienced at this point. Certainly enough to pose no threat to a fully trained death eater, which is the point that Sirius was trying to get across.

Secondly, it may have seemed like dirty pool with the way that Sirius went about getting the point across but, with Sirius' extreme hatred for Slytherin-like traits, I can see him being fairly miffed with the slippery way Harry went about circumventing his promise. IMO, Sirius would take severe umbrage with his Gryffindor godson acting in a manner more befitting a member of the Black family and less like a Potter. Because Sirius so strongly rebelled against his heritage and would have keenly felt the need to prove himself more Gryffindor than Slytherin because of his ancestry, he would naturally want to curb any tendency of Harry's that might have reminded him of his family. It was my intention to get Harry riled up by being on the receiving end of the same stunt that he himself pulled so that now he has first hand appreciation of honor and trust. Not that Harry is a dishonorable boy, but he did almost get sorted into Slytherin because of the horcrux influence, so it's not inconceivable that he could gravitate towards some of the less honorable traits.

I know that my Harry has strayed away from canon in a few ways, but he does have a father now and the chance to be less mature than he was forced into being in the books. It would naturally have an effect on his personality.

Anyway, that is my little rant for the week. Big thanks, as always, to all of my readers and reviewers. I'm such a beast by not responding individually, but please know that each review is read, re-read and cherished.

*************

For an office, the room was lavishly decorated.

The impressively thick pastel blue carpet was so deep that nary a footstep could ever be heard crossing it. From the fourteen floor to ceiling windows, that surrounded the office on three sides, hung heavy velvet drapes in a rich brocade of blue and gold tied back with long lengths of gold rope. The elegant desk that was the centerpiece of the room, like all the rest of the carefully placed furniture, had a distinctly Louis XIV feel to it, the intricately carved legs edged with the same gold filigree that adorned the rest of the detail work. The crystal chandelier that hung from the vaulted ceiling sparkled from the daily cleaning it was given, long slender candlesticks ablaze, absent any sign of melting wax.

It would have been a remarkable sight for any lover of luxury to take in. Even without the fact that all the features were quite a bit larger than they normally should be.

Behind the desk sat an impressive looking woman, her olive skinned face handsome, her rich ebony hair attractively swept into a chignon. She wore exquisitely cut black satin robes and a chunky necklace of silver and opals surrounding the base of her meaty neck. In her large hands, adorned with multiple rings, she tenderly held a scroll of parchment. Practically purring in contentment, she perused the contents once more before rolling it back up, her eyes closed, her mind spinning with the possibilities.

The Tri-Wizard Tournament.

_Mon Dieu_, how long she had waited for the chance to prove her school and, by extension, herself, as the best that the wizarding world had to offer in magical education.

Although she had worked tirelessly over the past ten years, her students excelling in every conceivable fashion, her school the recipient of a multitude of awards and accolades, the subtle detection of stares and whispers that followed her everywhere proved to her that she was still less than fully ingrained into the upper echelons of wizarding society.

Of course, Grandpere's money and status had afforded her a grudging acceptance by the world in which she had been born. He had been wonderfully loving and supportive of her always. Grandmere had been as well. To the best of her abilities anyway.

Growing up, the little girl had often caught her grandmother gazing wistfully at the portraits of the beautiful young woman that had been her mother, her eyes swimming in tears. After one of these little episodes, Grandmere could barely stand to look at the child and the little girl quickly learned to keep out of sight until her grandmother sought her out herself.

They almost never spoke of Maman. All she knew of her mother was that she had been beautiful and talented. That, and the fact that she had died in childbirth. Not surprising when you knew that Olympe had been the size of a normal five year old at birth.

No one ever spoke of Olympe's father. Grandpere and Grandmere would get identical frozen looks of horror whenever she broached the subject. Her questions were brushed away with all the ferocity of a curse and eventually, the little girl learned to never speak of either of her parents.

But, even at an early age, Olympe knew who she was and, more importantly, what her father would have been. She was an extremely bright little thing, home-schooled as usual, but with an almost unquenchable thirst for reading and knowledge. Amid endless hours of perusal in Grandpere's enormous library, she came across reference after reference on the topic of giants and she knew, as surely as she knew that her fashionable Mary Janes had needed to be custom made in unprecedented sizes, that her father had been at least part giant.

Grandmere wouldn't hear of it. Whenever Olympe had mentioned the possibility of her unusual and undesirable heritage, the older woman's eyes grew hard for a brief second before she could calm herself and assure her granddaughter that she was merely "big boned". No matter how hard Olympe tried to get her grandmother to admit otherwise, the elegant witch firmly in denial insisted upon their little ruse. After Olympe was finally sent to school herself, and was subsequently exposed to the cruel taunts and rumors, she found comfort in her grandmother's lie and eventually, after many years of professing it to be true, she started to believe it herself.

It was after her full acceptance of the lie that she started to come out of her shadow, growing strong and confident. With her new found self image, her extraordinary grades and talents, plus the helpful piles of gold in grandpere's vault, she somehow managed to secure the place of headmistress of Beauxbatons and had tirelessly worked towards proving her worth in the world.

Having one of her students win the long abandoned Tri-Wizard Tournament would go a long way in securing her position in the annals of magical history. Knowing that she could nurture such talent and skill under her palace's roof would finally prove to all of her detractors that Olympe Maxime was not a closeted half-giantess, but a force to be reckoned with. There would be no measures that she was not willing to employ to ensure her victory.

Opening her eyes back up, a gleam of excitement in the black pools, she unfurled the scroll once again, daintily plucked a beautifully tooled quill from the stand on her desk and added her carefully looped signature to the parchment. As it flamed blue and vanished, she clapped her hands in delight, happier than she had been in years.

*************

One should never underestimate the bracing value of a shot of frozen peppery vodka.

As he sat in repose on a high backed chair covered in furs, the flicker of a roaring fire reflected in the deep blue of his eyes. Holding the scroll of parchment in one hand, he slammed down the shot glass held by the other to nervously stroke the curling end of his goatee.

A year ago, he would have happily shed the blood of some of his own overwhelmingly dense students for the chance at the Tri-Wizard cup. A year ago, he was still trying to overcome his unfortunate past as a known death eater and a rat. A year ago, he had not yet felt the beginning itch of the betraying mark on his arm.

This was not a year ago.

In recent months the faded mark that he had unsuccessfully attempted to painfully carve off had started to darken again. That could only mean one thing, and it didn't promise anything good. With the growing fear over the impossible return of the dark lord that had branded him, came the realization that he would once again have to do something, anything, to keep himself alive and in one piece.

He had narrowly escaped the first time. Of course that had just been the dupes at the Ministry of Magic. Although he had had a panicked moment or two when he truly thought he would spend the rest of life, natural and otherwise, in the rotting cesspool of Azkaban, he had been spared in the end.

Convinced of the demise of his dark master at the hands of the toddling cult figure Boy Who Lived, he turned to saving his own skin. Possessing acute and damaging knowledge of participants more mouthwateringly tantalizing to the Ministry than himself, he had managed to broker the darkest of all deals. Purging himself of intimate details, his index finger figuratively sprained from all the pointing it had been doing during those harrowing days, he had earned his own freedom.

Of course, he had to focus on his survival _after _he finished spilling his guts to the sensation crazed gossip mongers of the Wizengamot. So, suffice it to say, there may have been a dark wizard or two that was spared his black stamp of betrayal while he sang like a bird under the heavy chains of the accused chair. A careful note here, and a meaningful look there, translated into financial support payable upon his removal from Britain.

Money wasn't everything.

If Igor's only interest in backing Lord Voldemort had been money, he would have been sorely disappointed. What he truly craved as a follower of the charismatic and dangerous wizard was the same intoxicating nectar that drew most of his supporters.

Power and influence.

So, it was certainly more than galleons that claimed his silence. After a few years of carefully orchestrated withdrawal from the wizarding world, the same grateful sponsors that had been invisibly supporting him financially managed to call in enough influence to secure a position first as Deputy Headmaster and then Headmaster itself of Durmstrang. With his ascendancy to the head position, it was clearly understood that his benefactors' generosity had come to an end. He would have to make his own way from there.

He was mildly surprised that they had never questioned his desire to become headmaster of a school, of all things. Surely they would have been appreciative of his silence enough to fund his comfortable lifestyle for years to come. It certainly would have been an easier task to achieve. To these people, money was nothing more than a tool they used to smooth out the wrinkles in their lives. They certainly had enough of it.

Manipulating the school board of governors had been a little more tricky, but they came through, just as he had always known that they could. Cut off from their favors forever, he had thrown all of his considerable energy into carving out his own little niche in the corridors of Durmstrang castle.

Lord Voldemort had the right idea, Igor had decided long ago. He just had not started recruiting his followers early enough. Each day as Igor roamed the hallowed halls of his institution, he didn't see the pale, pimpled faces of the boys in residence as they respectfully bowed as he swept forth. He saw only the numbers of future supporters that he would groom in their impressionable years in his quest to become the next great dark lord.

Other schools may have students. Igor Karkaroff had soldiers.

Grunting in disgust at the annoyingly chipper parchment clenched in his fist, the same arm that held his darkening mark, he found himself caught between a rock and a hard place.

It was early, too early, to implement his plan. His little soldiers had not yet reached the zenith of their unswerving devotion to him. True, he had scored a coup when he had managed to secure that talented little moron of a seeker in the ranks of his army. Krum was worth his considerable weight in galleons. Convincing the boy to publicly claim his allegiance to Karkaroff would go a long way in swaying the hordes of swooning fans to do the same.

But the mark was darkening. He was coming back. Igor was running out of time. Unless he could strengthen his own position through victory, Voldemort and his remaining supporters would hunt him down and kill him. The methods they would choose to employ so unspeakable that he could scarce imagine them.

He thumped the shot glass against the hard wood of the table next to him and it refilled. Raising it to his lips, he knocked back the frosty liquid and revelled in the fire burning its way down his throat. He shuddered slightly from the brief influx of alcohol and it cleared his head.

Reaching for his wand, he spelled his signature on the parchment, the instantaneous blue flames startling him before it vanished.

The tournament was his only hope now. With any luck, Viktor's success would cement Igor's own standing and support. His only chance to survive the return of the dark lord would be to beat him at his own game.

*********

In the high turreted room that served as his office, Albus Dumbledore regarded the troublesome scroll that demanded his attention. Slipping off his half moon spectacles and rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, he couldn't help but feel the reserves of his patience emptying dangerously.

Of all the times for this to have to take place!

A few months ago, when the idea had been proposed, he had not thought it necessarily a bad thing. Promoting international magical cooperation could only help the situation should they find themselves immersed in another period of darkness.

One can never have too many allies, after all.

But, that had been before his fortuitous encounter with Horace, under the influence of several large glasses of the excellent matured oak mead that Albus had thoughtfully supplied, that had directly led to the start of the mission that the real Alastor Moody currently found himself consumed by.

Originally, it had been Albus' intention to spearhead the mission himself. His extensive personal knowledge of Tom, and insight into the twisted mind, gave him a slightly sharper understanding of what and where they might be searching. However, with his promised support of the tournament, bringing with it all the dangers and intrigues of games past, he felt that he had no choice but maintain his presence at the school throughout.

He could only hope that Alastor was truly up to the task.

His heart still thudded with its accusatory pain of betrayal. It had taken all of his considerable persuasion and guilt to convince Sirius to remain at Hogwarts with Harry. Albus had seen the look of grim determination in the man's eyes and knew, without a doubt, that the concerned godfather was not bluffing with his threat to remove the boy from the school. Eventually, Albus had shared all of his grim secrets, including Alastor's mission in minute detail. Eventually, Sirius had been sufficiently convinced that the deception was necessary. He would agree to almost anything that would increase his godson's chances of surviving Voldemort.

It wasn't as if he had had a choice in revealing the details. In the absence of a true explanation, Sirius would have grabbed his godson and vanished forever. Albus never believed, for one second, that the former auror, for all his claims to the contrary, would return to Celestial Court.

Sirius would run. Far and fast, until he was sure that no one would ever find them. He had the talent and the means to do such a thing but, more importantly, he had the passionate desire. Albus had known that if he didn't play his cards right, he would never see Harry Potter again.

Shifting slightly in his ornately carved chair, he suppressed a small groan at the thought. The idea of Harry being taken away from the wizarding world was one that he had only allowed himself to entertain in the darkest hours of night. He would love nothing more than to think that the poor boy that he was so fond of could grow to manhood, protected, loved and cherished. Far removed from the darkness and evil that threatened him every waking moment.

It was a nice dream. But still, just a dream.

All Albus could do was try his best to keep him safe.

Of course, his methods were not always appreciated. It had been his suggestion that Mundungus cast the Imperious curse on the boy. Albus had wanted to know just how strong Harry was growing, and the ordinary course of classwork served just as well as any other test. The news that Harry had been able to throw the curse off had been most welcome, even as the idea of using an Unforgivable on a child rankled him to the very core.

With the Gryffindor students sharing their DADA class with the Slytherins, Albus had made a calculating guess that the death eaters would know of Harry's ability to foil any plan to use him in such a manner in the time it took for one surreptitious floo call.

Sirius had made it quite plain that he intended to train Harry to fight. As much as the idea swirled violently in the pit of his stomach, the old wizard had silently agreed. In his desire to protect the boy, he had not had the strength to implement a similar course of study.

Thank Merlin that Sirius had taken the lead in such an endeavor. Albus had enough guilt inside of him to choke the life out of him.

With a gentle wave of his hand, his signature appeared on the scroll. He idly admired the blue flames, the abrupt vanishing of the parchment driving home his need to keep all of his children safe, especially one of them.

**************

**Triwizard Tournament**

**The Delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at**

**6 o'clock on Friday the 30th of October**

**Lessons will end half an hour early.**

**Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories**

**and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the **

**Welcoming Feast**

**********

The announcement that had appeared throughout the school had made quite excitable conversation during dinner. Gathered together for their ritual Friday night in Sirius' residence, the trio and the former Marauders had spent the majority of the meal talking about the upcoming tournament.

"It's going to be absolutely wicked," Ron had gushed enthusiastically as he reached for his third helping of treacle tart.

Harry just rolled his eyes, tired already of all the excitement over something that he wasn't able to participate in. He still had not gotten over his resentment of this tournament superseding his beloved Quidditch. In a fit of pique, he leaped forward and grabbed the last slice of tart, jabbing Ron in the hand with his fork to prevent the redhead from acquiring it.

"Git!"

"Harry!"

Harry looked up and saw the disapproving glare of his godfather's gray eyes.

"No more sugar for you, young man. You've already had three wedges," Sirius scolded. "Give it to Ron."

Harry scowled, but he obeyed. Grinning triumphantly, Ron held out his plate for Harry to slide the coveted brown sticky triangle onto. From her place at the table, Hermione didn't even bother to raise her eyes from the parchment she was reading. She just shook her head and snickered quietly. It was no surprise that she maintained her slender figure. Years of sharing meals with the two human stomachs had almost ensured that there was barely a crumb left after meals.

Sauntering over to the table, Sirius had somehow produced a small plate of cheese chunks and fruit. Ruffling his godson's hair, he plopped the plate down in front of the cranky teenager.

Harry tried to keep his scowl in place, but his godfather's eyes were twinkling so madly that he couldn't manage it for long. He huffed briefly and then gave up, grabbing one of the chunks and nibbling on it contentedly. Sirius smirked and returned to his place on the sofa, joining Remus in another glass of wine.

"He's having a growth spurt, I think," he said to Remus, his voice blatantly radiating in the affection he felt for his godson. For the past few weeks Sirius had taken to having extra snacks on hand to satisfy Harry's positively enormous appetite.

"I'd wager that I'll be buying him longer trousers by the end of term. Either that, or I'm working him too hard training."

"Probably a bit of both, I would imagine," Remus replied, his golden eyes dancing with amusement. "How is it going?"

Sirius smiled tiredly and stretched his arms out to the side. As he moved, he heard a small popping noise as a joint snapped back into place. He grinned sheepishly at his chuckling friend, trying not to notice how wan Remus' face looked. It had not been long since the last full moon and even with Padfoot out romping with Moony, it had been a difficult night.

"Well, I think," he finally answered. "He's picking up the basics very quickly and his technique is improving. I have the soreness to prove it."

Remus nodded and leaned forward to refill both of their glasses. "I'm glad to hear it. Do you still want me to join you next week?"

Sirius took the offered glass gratefully, taking a quick swallow of the excellent vintage. "Yes, I do. It's never too early to begin training him to face multiple opponents. I think you will be impressed with how much effort he has put into improving his skills."

Both men looked over to the table, hearing the noises associated with the meal being cleared away. The teens had planned on playing Exploding Snap after their late dinner and Hermione was sponging down the table while the boys cleared the plates and glasses.

Turning back to the cozy fire, Sirius took another long swallow of his wine, his forehead wrinkled in thought. Remus knew this look. Knew that his longtime friend needed to get something off of his chest but needed time to formulate his thoughts. He leaned back into his chair, his attention on his wine glass as he twirled the stem between his fingers, and he waited.

"I told Albus about what we are doing," Sirius said after a fashion. "He agrees with me that it is a good idea."

"It is."

There was silence for a moment as Sirius turned to stare intently into the flames. His forehead was wrinkled in concentration and his silver eyes had lost their merriment.

"Then why do I want to just wrap him in cotton wool and hide him away somewhere?"

The question brought a smile to the werewolf's face, but when he turned to look at his friend, Sirius kept his gaze pointedly towards the blazing fire.

"Because you love him," he answered simply. "Because you want to keep him safe."

Sirius sighed and took another swallow. "Of course I do, but I don't want to make him soft either."

The liquid metallic glint of his gray eyes cooled as his stare became more intense, but his posture slumped in small admission of defeat. "He can't afford to be soft. We neither one of us have that luxury."

Remus held his comment as Harry had taken that particular moment to lope over to where they were sitting. Flopping down on the sofa next to his godfather, he sprawled out, dropping his feet into his godfather's lap and propping his head up against the armrest.

Sirius snickered, one eyebrow raised in amusement as he gazed down fondly at the boy. "Comfy?" he asked, sarcastically.

Harry closed his eyes in contentment, a little smirk on his face. "Yes, very, thank you much."

His sarcastic little retort made both of the men in the room chuckle with Sirius reaching down to tug at the cuff of Harry's jeans. "See what I mean, Moony? He's grown at least two inches since I bought these for him last spring."

Harry opened his eyes and rolled them, grinning. "It's about time, too. It's hard being around all of you freakishly tall people."

Sirius playfully swatted at one of Harry's bare feet and snorted. "I would not say that any of us are _freakishly_ tall, you little blighter. Your dad was almost as tall as I am. If you keep taking your vitamins and eating better, we'll get you there yet." Sirius tried to keep the teasing light. Harry's short stature bothered him more than he would admit to out loud.

Harry crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his godfather. "That has got to be the most _pathetic_ excuse I can think of to convince me to keep eating that nasty cereal you enjoy torturing me with."

Looking positively affronted, Sirius struggled to restrain a smile. "I don't _enjoy_ torturing you," he protested. Harry held his stare and raised an eyebrow until finally his godfather couldn't keep a straight face. "Well, maybe a little."

Remus, sipping his wine and smiling serenely, sat back in his chair and enjoyed the easy banter between his best friend and his godson. In moments like this, you would swear that Sirius had raised Harry from infancy.

Harry yawned widely, his eyes scrunched up, causing Sirius to laugh and smiled fondly at his sleepy child. "Merlin, Harry. You're too young to be this tired. It's the shank of the evening, you know."

Scowling, Harry opened one eye and glared at his amused godfather. "The what?"

"The time to play cards, mate!" Ron called from the other side of the room, having finished discretely snogging Hermione, grateful for Harry's momentary retreat from the table. Harry groaned. He was sleepy and comfortable and in no hurry to leave the warmth of the fire. Sirius nudged Harry's leg gently and Harry winced from the contact.

Frowning, the concerned godfather went on full alert. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Harry huffed and stretched, beginning to roll off of the sofa and stand up. "I'm fine, Sirius. Just a little sore, is all," he assured his worried guardian as he got to his feet. "You gave me a real workout today and the spells haven't completely worn off yet."

Harry had unhappily found that direct hits from the practice settings on their wands still hurt if he was careless enough to be hit. The only difference from his first experience being that his whole body took shots, instead of just one particular part. In spite of the discomfort, he bore the training cheerfully. He was used to being banged around during Quidditch practice, after all.

"You shouldn't still be feeling anything," Sirius protested, ignoring his own lingering twinges and aghast that he had hurt the boy so badly. "I'm going to take you to see Poppy." Sirius rose quickly to his feet, preparing to drag Harry, if necessary, to the hospital wing.

Harry turned around to glare at his godfather. "I'm _fine_, Sirius. Stop fussing already!"

"Sure he is," Ron agreed, coming over to stand next to Harry. He clapped Harry on the back, earning a glare himself from his friend who had to bite back another wince that he didn't want his already panicking godfather to see.

"Harry's a Quidditch player, Professor," Ron continued, unable to drop the formal title in the off hours like Hermione had easily adapted to doing. "He can handle anything."

Harry smiled and affectionately elbowed his mate in the ribs for the compliment which seemed to have been successful in calming Sirius down. Too bad that Ron never really knew when to quit while he was ahead.

"I bet he'd win the TriWizard too, if he could enter," Ron bragged. "He's got way more experience than that git Diggory." Unlike Harry, Ron had never forgiven poor Cedric for having the audacity to score against Gryffindor the day the Dementors attacked Harry.

Sirius' eyebrows shot straight up and his face lost all signs of humor. "He would do nothing of the kind," he swore vehemently. "Even if he was old enough to enter, I would never allow him to compete in it. Do you know how many students have been killed?"

Affronted now, Harry stiffened his posture, crossing his arms and scowling at his godfather. "If I was of age, you couldn't _really_ stop me, Sirius," he reminded the overprotective man who was frowning at him menacingly.

Sirius answered by mimicking the pose, with a look on his face that screamed _You want to bet on that? _

Knowing better than to pick that particular fight, Harry smirked and pulled Ron back towards the table where Hermione had been patiently sitting with the cards, observing the entertaining chatter from a safe distance.

Sirius couldn't help smiling as he sat back down on the sofa and picked up his neglected wine glass. He noticed Remus smirking at him as well as his friend calmly sipped the blood red liquid. "What are you laughing about, old man?" he snarked good naturedly.

"I'm laughing because if you or James had the chance to enter that tournament, you would have done anything to be one of the chosen, regardless of age. Hypocrisy does not become you, Padfoot."

Remus was only taking the mickey, but Sirius grew very quiet. "I know. You're right. Looking back on the things we did, I wonder how we made it to graduation. It didn't so much matter for me. I hated my parents. But I don't know how Charlus and Dorea survived all the craziness that James put them through. The thought of Harry doing some of those things..."

Sirius couldn't finish his thougts out loud and Remus saw his friend grip his glass tighter, his knuckles turning white from the exertion. He leaned over and gently pulled the glass from Sirius' iron grip before it shattered in his hand.

"That's what it is to be a father, Sirius. And, with Harry, it's so much more difficult because of all he has already suffered. It's not easy to be a single parent under the best of circumstances, and yours are more unusual than most."

Sirius smiled softly at his old friend. Remus spoke from the experience in his own household.

It had been no secret amongst the Marauders that Remus' father carried the guilt of his son's lycanthropy to his early grave. The distraught father had never forgiven himself for being the reason that his only child was cursed to dark creature status because of a perceived insult that he had given to that monster Fenrir Greyback. The anxiety of watching his child endure the excruciating transformations literally broke his heart, leaving his wife a young widow.

"I try my best," Sirius said quietly. "There are times when I almost feel like I can make up for some of James' absence, but, more than I care to admit, there are also times when I know that Harry needs Lily."

"You could always marry and give him a mother, you know," Remus reminded him gently.

Sirius shook his head. "No. I told you before, Moony. Harry needs all of my attention. I can't take the risk of my lovelife adversely affecting him. I didn't always have the best taste in women, as I am sure you will happily remind me."

Remus would have said more, but Sirius put his hand up to stop him. He didn't like the turn the conversation was taking. Some might think he was unnecessarily martryring himself to raise Harry alone, but he was more than content with his decision and he honestly didn't feel the need for more companionship than this godson and best friend. Maybe someday, when Harry was grown with a family of his own. Giving Remus wink, he swiftly changed the topic.

"He asked me to help him become an animagus. Did I tell you?"

Now Remus burst into laughter hearty enough to draw curious looks from the teens at the card table. He waved them away with an affectionate shake of his head and they returned to their game.

"Well, I suppose we both should have seen that coming," he replied in amusement. "What did you tell him?"

Sirius smirked, twirling his glass stem between his long elegant fingers. "I told him no. I said that he was too young, and that if he wanted my help, he would have to wait until he was fifteen."

Remus almost choked on the sip of wine he was taking. It was not at all the answer he had been expecting. "No? Why not?" he asked incredulously. "By Harry's age, you and James were already well on your way to achieving the transformation."

"I know that, Moony," Sirius replied, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "That time we had was so precious to me. It really bonded us, don't you remember?"

Both men took a moment to relive the fond memories they had at that time. Although Remus had obviously not needed to become an animagus, owing to the fact that, as a werewolf, he was physical incapable of any other kind of transformation, his diligent participation in research, once he had recovered from the enormous swell of affection he felt for his friends' support, had been vital to the success of the other three, and they had all worked tirelessly on the project together.

"I do," he agreed, after a fashion. "Those were some of the best days of my life," he admitted quietly, still awestruck, after all of these years.

Sirius afforded him a fond wink. "I'd wager that my godson and his friends will try to figure it out for themselves. I would not want to take that time away from them. I plan on keeping an eye on them, with your help, if you'll give it, just to make sure that they do not try anything too reckless. If they have not sorted it by Harry's birthday, I'll be more than happy to assist them."

Remus nodded his consent, mildly surprised at Sirius' willingness to allow Harry that sort of experience. The process was tricky and risky. A loud _snap!_ from the table got their attention and both turned to watch the three teens laugh merrily at the smoking cards. There were worse ways to spend a Friday night than in this pleasant little atmosphere.

The two men chatted companionably for a while longer, content to enjoy the sounds of amusement coming from the table. It was only when the normal rumble turned into a full fledged roar of snaps and a yelp that they took full notice.

"Agh!"

Fully alert, Sirius practically leaped over the back of the sofa, hearing Harry cry out. Bounding over to the table, he panicked for a second, seeing his godson holding his hand over his forehead.

"What happened, Harry? Your scar?" he stammered, worried.

"Hopefully not," Harry grunted, shooting Ron a poisonous look. He removed his hand and let his godfather see the angry red burn that had appeared just above his right eyebrow. Ron winced at the sight and offered a quiet and sincere "Sorry, mate."

Immeasurabley relieved that it was just a case of enthusiastic horseplay and not another mental beating, Sirus let out a sharp whoosh of air before hovering over his godson, clucking his tongue in sympathy.

"Oh, that doesn't look so bad. I have some good burn salve in the medicine cabinet." Sirius was prepared for anything. A good marauder learned early to keep medical supplies handy at all times. Propelling Harry to his feet, he led his mildly damaged boy towards the bathroom.

Inside, he lowered the toilet lid and Harry took the hint to sit down. "I can do this myself, you know," Harry grumbled as Sirius began to fuss with the tube of salve and a swab.

"I know you can," Sirius assured the whinging teen. "Just indulge me, hmm?"

Applying the goopy gel to the swab, he brushed it against the burn as gently as he could. Harry hissed from the sting, causing his godfather to wince in sympathy.

"Yes, I know. It does have a bit of a bite at first," he cooed soothingly.

Acting purely on impulse, Sirius bent down and blew softly on the wound, cooling the area. Harry was startled by the gesture, having never had anyone do such a thing before. Sirius had not intentionally set out to do it. It was just a reflex. A long buried memory from a time when his own father had once shown unprecedented kindness to an injured son, long before he learned to despise his eldest offspring.

Irrationally thrown by affectionate ministration, Harry blinked rapidly, unsure of how to respond. Sirius, sensing his unease, leaned back and smirked at him. "Too much?" Harry snorted. "You big girl," he teased his laughing godfather as he stood to leave the bathroom.

The moment of discomfort vanished quickly, but Sirius was touched when Harry gave him a quick hug on his way out. Even if it made Harry uncomfortable sometimes, Sirius was resolved to keep his beloved child from any amount of pain that he could.

*********

The roar in his ears was deafening as he made his way up the opening between the Gryffindor and the Hufflepuff tables. It wasn't the roar of applause and cheers that had greeted the announcement of the first three. It was a roar of shock and confusion created by his own head as he struggled to process just what, in Merlin's name had just happened to him.

For Harry, Halloween was a difficult enough day as it was.

For the past few years, ever since he found out the truth of his parents' deaths, the day had become one of infinite sorrow for him as he mourned the man and woman that he didn't remember knowing, but loved keenly just the same.

Oh sure, he went about the day casually enough, trying to give the impression that he enjoyed the castle's festivities. In truth, his first year, he had been quite impressed with the decorations and the feast that was unlike one he had ever known possible. Then, of course, had been the whole ordeal with the troll and it had taken his mind off of his own wallowing long enough to make a new friend.

Since then, he had kept his melancholy to himself, and his friends were nice enough to avoid the topic. With all of the excitement this year, he hoped to further push the date aside and revel in school pride as the champion was chosen.

At the welcoming feast, Ron had barely been contained by the thought of having his Quidditch idol at the castle with them. Hermione, for her part, was more concerned with the awestruck way her very new boyfriend had swooned over a certain blond Beauxbatons student as she glided past them, taking the tureen of unwanted fish soup with her.

He had not necessarily been in the mood for another feast right on top of the heels of that one, but tonight was not just Halloween, it was the night that the Goblet of Fire would choose the lucky champions and there was a decided thrill in the air.

Then, all hell broke loose, and Harry Potter found himself firmly avowing that Halloween was always to be the most wretched of days in his life.

Slowly, very slowly, he propelled himself forward, trying to ignore the shock on the faces of his friends, the disgust on the faces of those not chosen, the cries declaring him to be a cheat stabbing him in the gut. As he reached the front table, he had to turn away from the spectacle of his enraged godfather arguing quietly, but obviously furiously, with the headmaster.

Dumbledore had simply motioned the shell shocked boy towards the door that Cedric, Fleur and Krum had disappeared into, and Harry had to force his feet to move in the right direction.

Entering the darkened chamber that he had never seen before, his mind was too dazed to fully comprehend the questioning looks and comments from the three older students already present. He could only blink rapidly as all of the school heads and a few of the professors stormed into the room after him, shouting and threatening in high pitched heated voices.

When Sirius grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him slightly, his gray eyes wild with fury, Harry could only repeat the word "no" over and over again as his godfather demanded to know if he had somehow managed to put his name in the goblet.

Seeing his godson's pale face and dazed eyes, Sirius immediately believed Harry when he swore that the unfortunate turn of events had not been his own doing. The only other reason for Harry's name to have been put in the goblet terrifying him beyond all measure. He too felt his blood run cold and he only gave passing attention to the protestations of the enormous woman and the death eater who were screaming for justice for their schools.

Sirius' mind whirred with possibilities, each one more dreadful than the one before it. He had to keep Harry safe. It was his job to keep Harry safe. It was only when he heard that pompous jackass Barty Crouch insist that Harry was obliged to compete that the godfather finally came to his senses.

Tuning out everyone else, he turned to Dumbledore, his face a placid mask of scary calm. "Albus, the answer is really quite simple," he said quietly, unnerving everyone in the room. "Harry cannot possibly be a Hogwarts Champion if he is no longer a Hogwarts student."

Turning to his stunned godson, who had not yet processed what he just had said, he spoke the words that chilled Harry to the core.

"Go back to the dorm and pack, Harry. We're going home."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N Hello everyone! I'm sure that many of you are just thoroughly disgusted with my lack of updates recently. I have not abandoned the story. A few weeks ago we sold our business and moved out of state. While it was something that we had wanted to do for quite some time, it was a very lengthy and time consuming project and I just didn't have the ability to give any real attention to writing. It took quite a while to unpack and get settled into the new house and it was ridiculously problematic getting the Internet hooked up. I've been going absolutely crazy! With the holidays going on and a flu that would just not go away, it felt like I would never get back to it.

But, here we are. I hope that those of you that are still with me enjoy the new chapter and now that things are getting relatively back to normal, I'll be able to update much more frequently.

Thanks to everyone who messaged me and let me know that my return would be welcome!

*****************

Although mere seconds had passed, it felt like an eternity to Sirius and Harry as they each stared at the other.

Sirius desperately wanted to get Harry, not only out of the antechamber, but out of the castle completely before this whole situation took on an even deadlier tone that it already had.

Every fibre of his being left him unable and wholly unwilling to trust anyone, especially the assorted few gathered behind them. With his back to a group of potential enemies, any of whom could have been the mastermind behind tonight's fiasco, he raised himself to his full height, ever so imperceptibly spreading his arms at his sides in defense of the boy standing in front of him. There was no mistaking the implication of just who they would have to go through to get to Harry.

But even as he maintained his defensive stance, his wand at the ready, cat-like reflexes tensed for any sudden threatening movement, his eyes pleaded with the boy's for understanding. His beloved child stood in front of him, posture slumped, pained pools of emerald green poised to undo Sirius completely in their devastation. He would have done anything, anything at all to keep that kind of look off of Harry's face, and here he was, the one that had caused it, and the knowledge that he wasn't planning on rectifying the reason gutted him.

"Sirius...please..."

Harry was blinking back tears, even as every muscle in his body was tensed with emotion. Sirius swore softly under his breath, convinced that he could actually hear the audible confirmation of his boy's heart shattering. He knew that if he did this, Harry was unlikely to ever forgive him for it.

"Harry, obey me, please. Go and pack your things. I'll be there directly to collect you," he instructed in a voice that sounded significantly more firm than he was currently feeling.

"This is nonsense, Mr. Black. The rules are very clear. The boy's name was pulled out of the Goblet. He _must_ compete."

At the sound of Bartemius Crouch's pompous pronouncement, Sirius whirled around in a fit and threw a glare so intense in heat at the man, that everyone in the room was surprised when Crouch did not spontaneously combust.

"_My_ godson must do whatever _I_ decide he is to do, _Mister Crouch_," Sirius seethed, his tone so deadly that it dripped poison.

Crouch shrunk back ever so slightly, the sight of the significantly taller and monumentally enraged wizard annihilating any shred of self preservation that he possessed. Sirius advanced upon him, like a predator stalking his prey and, for half a heartbeat, Harry forgot his own miserable predicament and worried for an appearance of Padfoot. His godfather definitely had the look in his eye that decreed it all too possible.

"I am _well _aware of your willingness to send innocent young wizards to fates that they do not deserve, Mr. Crouch," Sirius hissed, not so subtly reminding everyone of Crouch's prominent role in his own false imprisonment, "but, I assure you, that my godson will not be a lamb sent to slaughter solely because you are incapable of seeing anything further than the end of your own nose."

An uncomfortable hush fell on the antechamber as the assembled viewed the confrontation, more than one hand firmly gripping the wands in their possession. The room crackled with electricity and only Dumbledore was attuned enough to see the slight lifting of Sirius' hair from his shoulders, as if a light breeze was hitting him, all too clearly recognizing it as the black winged precursor of a magical explosion.

"Sirius, please," Albus spoke gently, "you are not the only one worried about young Harry's safety."

Sirius didn't take his eyes off of Crouch, even as his lips twisted into a grim spectre of a smirk.

"Albus, the only thing Mr. Crouch has to worry about is covering his own hide once I put the full weight of the House of Black behind an inquiry on how something like this could even happen. Too long have the actions of this man gone unchecked, and I _refuse_ to have Harry embroiled in anything he has a hand in."

Crouch's eyes popped wide in their sockets at Sirius' words. Completely affronted, he raised his wand hand to respond, only to be held back by strong grip on his sleeve. Turning, he saw the stern look of Minerva McGonagall dressing him down as if he were once again a student.

"I wouldn't, if I were you, Barty," she advised in her no-nonsense voice.

Sirius had had enough. Precious moments were slipping by and he was still no closer to getting his godson home under the safe protection of Celestial Court.

"We're done here," he announced, spinning back around to face Harry. "_Now_, Harry James. I promise that you do not want to test me on this."

Harry held his godfather's stare for another second before storming out of the antechamber, slamming the door behind him. The cacophony of rising voices from the chamber clearly echoing against the walls of the Great Hall as he stomped down the aisle between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

He strode determinedly forward, noticing neither the accusing hissing coming from the Slytherins and the normally affable Hufflepuffs, nor the incredulous rapid fire questioning from his fellow Gryffindors. He barely even had any sense of his two best friends hurriedly nipping at his heels as he stomped towards Gryffindor tower, both extremely concerned by his silence and his positively magenta face.

Stomping up the tower stairs to his dormitory, Harry practically caught Hermione in the face with the heavy oak door, even as Ron took the inopportune time to once again gripe about the double standard of girls being allowed in the boys dorm, but not vice versa. Both stood shell-shocked as they watched Harry begin to fling books and clothes into his trunk with vicious force.

"Harry? What happened? What are you doing?" Hermione asked worriedly. She was struggling to keep her tone gentle, so as not to provoke an obviously furious Harry even further, but his actions were genuinely frightening them and the slight waver in her voice betrayed this. Harry kept his back to them, working feverishly and managing to drop a full bottle of ink on the floor in the process.

"Harry?" she tried again, even softer when no response was forthcoming.

They watched as Harry's shoulders suddenly slumped and he hung his head, letting the button down in his hand fall to the bed. Hermione cautiously walked closer to him and reached out a tentative hand. When he didn't flinch from the impending contact, she took the initiative to intertwine her fingers with those of his right hand, giving him a supportive nudge.

"Sirius is pulling me out of school," he answered after a fashion, not failing to notice neither the sharp intake of breath from Hermione nor the protesting squeak from Ron. "He says that I'm in danger from whoever put my name in the goblet and I would be safer at home."

Hermione clucked her tongue in sympathy as she sidled up closer to Harry, gripping even tighter to his hand. From behind them, Ron stood with a mask of confusion on his face.

"So...you didn't do it yourself, then?" he asked incredulously. The idea of participating in the tournament so enticing, that the thought of Harry not entering himself in it was a bit hard to grasp for the redhead.

Harry threw daggers at him, his face flushing in another bloom of anger, but paling in comparison to Hermione's agitation at her oft clueless boyfriend.

"Ronald, honestly!" she snapped. "Harry knows better than to do something so monumentally stupid. Haven't you listened to Sirius _at all_ when he talks about the tournament?"

Cowed by the furiousness of his girlfriend that rivaled any redheaded Weasley woman, Ron choked for a second before sputtering a quiet "Yeah, alright."

Hermione gently pulled Harry down to sit on his bed next to her, Ron joining them and putting a supportive arm around Harry's shoulders. The trio sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment before Harry could find his voice again.

"It's not fair," he whispered quietly. "I didn't do anything wrong. I shouldn't have to leave school when it wasn't my fault."

"Maybe Sirius will change his mind," Ron suggested in what he hoped was a cheery voice. "He won't want to keep you out of school forever."

Harry lifted his head long enough to throw Ron a baleful look and then returned his attention to the floor. His godfather certainly _would_ keep him away from Hogwarts permanently if he thought that Harry was endangered there.

Hermione and Ron tried to comfort their friend as best as they could, but just a few minutes later, there was a sharp rap on the door preceding Sirius' determined arrival into the dorm room. Seeing his godfather enter, Harry jumped to his feet and resumed pitching his possessions in the trunk.

"I'm going, I'm going," he spat out, unconcerned for the sharpness of his tone with his godfather. He may not have the courage to defy the man, but no one said that he had to make it easy on him either.

Sirius chose to ignore his godson's blatant disrespect. Under the present circumstances, Harry's attitude was far down on the list of his priorities. What's more, he didn't really blame the boy for being upset.

"Ron, Hermione, could you excuse us, please? I need to speak to Harry in private," Sirius asked quietly.

The two friends looked first to Sirius and then to Harry, uncomfortable about leaving their best mate alone at a time like this. When Harry finally nodded his assent at them, they moved to the door, but took a few long seconds to do it, finally shutting the door behind them.

Harry resumed his hostile packing practices, unable to see the pained expression on his godfather's face. When Sirius couldn't take it anymore, he reached out and gently grasped Harry's arm.

"Harry, stop," he pleaded, his voice cracking. When Harry stilled his movements and turned to face him, Sirius had to choke back a hitch in his throat at the look of despondency on the boy's face. Not knowing what else to do, he pulled Harry into his chest and wrapped his arms around him, relieved when his godson didn't resist the embrace.

Harry buried his face into the crook of Sirius' neck. His anger at his godfather wasn't soothing the fury he felt at the situation, but the warm hug he found himself in reminded him of how much Sirius genuinely loved him, effectively taking the wind out of his sails. He slumped against Sirius' chest, content to stay there for a few minutes while he let his blood cool.

Sirius anxiously pressed his face into the top of Harry's black mop of hair. He would do what he needed to do to protect his boy, but his heart would be shattered beyond mending if he lost Harry's love in the process.

"I don't want to have to do this, little one," he said, his voice pleading for understanding. He held his breath, feeling Harry stiffen in his arms briefly before relaxing again.

"I know, Sirius," Harry whispered. "It's just that Hogwarts was my first real home. I don't want to leave it. Before you, all of my happy memories are of being here."

The words hit Sirius like a kick to the stomach. He knew exactly how Harry felt. It had been the same for him as a boy and he felt like the world's biggest heel. If anyone had tried to take Sirius away from Hogwarts and his friends, he knew he would not have taken it quietly.

The fact that his godson was clinging to him like a lifeline, even as he was depriving him of the one constant comfort the boy had ever had, was practically enough to bring him to his knees. He gripped Harry tighter and brushed a kiss across the top of his head.

"I just want to get you home safe, Harry," he whispered. "I promise that we'll sort all of this out."

He pulled back a little and tipped Harry's face up to his own, trying not to crumble when he took in the sight of the unshed tears in his godson's eyes. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Harry nodded, pulling in a jagged breath of air. "Yes, sir."

Sirius released a breath he didn't realize he had been holding as he gave Harry another fierce embrace before pulling back again. "Don't fuss with your things now. We'll worry about them later. Just put your cloak on. It's been a long night and I think it's time to go."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded and obeyed. Sighing in resignation, he threw a sorrowful look around the room that he had called home since he was eleven and allowed Sirius to put an arm around his shoulders. Sirius led him gently down the stairs and into the common room where Ron and Hermione were pacing like expectant parents. If the situation hadn't been so sad and ugly, Sirius would have laughed.

Both of their faces fell when they saw that Harry was dressed for travel, but Sirius hurried to assure them, mindful of the fact that his godson would most likely be unable to do so himself.

"I'm not taking him away from the two of you," he said kindly. "We'll figure something out."

Ron stood gobsmacked, and it was Hermione that squared her shoulders and rose to the occasion. "Then we won't say goodbye," she stated firmly and the forcefulness of her tone made Harry smile in appreciation. Words failing miserably, he just gave them a quick nod before allowing Sirius to guide him out of the tower.

Moments later, they had apparated home.

***********

Sirius stirred fretfully in his chair in the study. The large tumbler of firewhiskey in his left hand remained largely untouched, providing little but cold comfort tonight. Harry was upstairs in his room, having gone directly there upon their arrival at Celestial Court. Swirling the contents of the crystal glass enough to make the cubes of ice clink against the sides, he leaned back against the padded silk, feeling ten times his actual age.

Earlier, he had floo'ed Remus and explained the events of the day. His old friend had immediately offered to come over, but Sirius had declined. He would be poor company this evening. Not that Remus needed to be entertained, but Sirius just wanted to wallow in his own solitude for a while.

Harry had been disquietingly accepting of the whole situation and that fact above others pained Sirius greatly. While dealing with a protesting and defiant godson might have been more challenging, he thought that he almost might prefer it to the sad, resigned child that he had upstairs now. Just one more thing that Harry was being deprived of, just because of who he was.

The spectre of Voldemort and all of his ilk continued to destroy Harry's life long after his attack on him as an infant.

The question was, how long could he continue to keep his godson under lock and key? Even Celestial Court, protected as it was by hundreds of years of intricate spellwork by some of the darkest and most paranoid wizards known, would not completely guarantee his safety. If this fortress were to fall, what then? Where would they go? Would he have to keep on the run with Harry forever?

His head throbbing, he lifted the tumbler up to his temple and pressed the icy glass against his skin in an attempt to alleviate some of the numbing pain. He sat like that for a few moments until he heard the unmistakable popping and hissing of his fireplace coming to life. Dropping the glass to the floor with a crash, he whipped his wand out of his pocket and sprung to his feet, previous ennui forgotten in his single minded desire to eviscerate whatever was intruding.

On the verge of snarling, he stared at the hot coals until he saw the ever familiar face of Albus Dumbledore placidly looking up at him.

"Merlin's beard, Albus!" he admonished. "A little warning, if you please."

Albus' face fell contritely. "My deepest apologies, Sirius. May I come through for a moment?"

Sirius hesitated the briefest of seconds before nodding his consent. While he waited for Albus' full emergence, he took the time to repair his glass and clean the golden liquid that threatened to stick to his wooden floor. Crossing over to his decanter, he poured two more glasses, pressing one into the headmaster's hand as he approached.

"My decision hasn't changed, Albus," he stated, without looking into the damnable twinkling eyes. Ever the respectable host, he motioned for Albus to take the chair next to his before resuming his seat.

Sinking into the armchair with a grace that belied his tall stature, Albus took a small sip of the firewhiskey. "Sirius, I implore you to see reason," he said softly. "Whether we like it, or not, Harry's name being pulled from the goblet signifies a binding magical contract. You know the risks of breaking it. To Harry, as well as to yourself."

Sirius counted to ten in his head. If nothing else, he would keep his temper in check during this conversation. Albus had the all too infuriating skill of provoking him into a heated argument and, this time, Sirius would lead with his head and not with his heart.

"Albus," he started firmly, "what good would it do either Harry or myself to keep our magic intact if he is not alive to use it?"

Albus squared his shoulders just a fraction as he looked meaningfully at Sirius from above the rim of his glass. "What good would it do either of you if you save Harry from this threat, only to be powerless to help him in the face of the next one."

Sirius turned steely gray eyes towards the headmaster but, in truth, he did not have a counter point for Albus' statement. It was a thought that had been plaguing him every second since he had made the decision to bring Harry home.

"We'll deal with that when the time comes, Albus. This threat is here, now, and I have to do what I feel is best in this moment."

Albus stared at Sirius over the rims of his half spectacles, the twinkle in his eye decidedly absent. "Sirius, you are Harry Potter's guardian. You cannot afford to be shortsighted where his future is concerned. Let him come back to school. We can protect him there well enough."

Slamming his tumbler onto the small table next to his chair, Sirius turned the full force of his fury on the bearded man next to him. "Really, Albus? Really? You can protect him there? I suppose you can. As long as there are no trolls, or acromantulas."

Sirius shot to his feet and planted his hands on his hips.

"Or how about three headed dogs? Or giant basilisks? Or werewolves and escaped convicts, for that matter?"

At this, Albus rose as well, keeping his face calm, but a slight tremor of irritation making his hooked nose twitch.

"Or what about dark wizards and horcruxes, Albus," Sirius continued coldly. "What is your great plan for keeping my child safe from those?"

Albus looked at him sadly at these words, the weight of them pressing down on the older man more than Sirius would ever know. "I can't change what has happened in the past, Sirius. Merlin knows how much I wish I could. But I _cannot_ stress enough the importance of Harry keeping his magic intact and I am willing to entertain any request you may have regarding his safety if you bring him back."

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. In his wildest imagination, he would never have expected to hear Albus Dumbledore sound this broken about anything. It nearly wore down his resolve but, as much has he had always respected the headmaster, Harry came before everything. Turning around, he made his way over to his desk and sat down heavily.

"I'm sorry, Albus, but my answer is no. Please leave us alone."

Sirius did not even look up from the random stack of papers he had grabbed as he heard Albus take his leave.

*************

It was no wonder that neither Sirius nor Harry could sleep that night. So when Sirius tossed and turned until well after three a.m., his nocturnal visit to his godson's room did not come as a surprise to either of them.

Harry sensed his godfather's presence long before the soft noises of his movements announced his arrival. So when Sirius sat down on the edge of the bed to card his fingers through Harry's thick hair, Harry allowed it, relishing the comfort it brought him even as his heart bled.

"I love you, little one," Sirius whispered into the darkness of the room. "You know that, don't you?"

From underneath his hand, he felt Harry nod briefly, even as the boy leaned into his touch. "I just want to keep you safe, Harry. I know what Hogwarts means to you, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sirius," Harry said quietly, defeat in his voice.

Sirius felt physical pain from the listlessness in his boy's tone. It wasn't okay, and they both knew it. Sirius just hoped that Harry would understand why he made the decision that he had. He would make sure that he did.

He spent another couple of minutes stroking Harry's hair before leaning over to brush a kiss on the pale forehead. Harry curled up further into his blanket, keeping his head turned away from his godfather and effectively ending the quiet discussion.

Sirius stood and slowly walked out, knowing that slumber would still prove to be most elusive tonight.

Harry listened motionless as his godfather shut the bedroom door. He buried his face further into the pillows, willing himself to stifle the scream of outrage that was just below the surface of his emotions. For all of his failings, Harry was nothing if not a clever boy.

He knew very well how much it pained Sirius to take him out of school, and he knew how deeply worried his godfather was about what had happened in the Great Hall. In all truth, Harry was a bundle of nerves himself. The certain knowledge that someone was indeed plotting against him chilling him to the bone.

***************

Sirius was already sitting at the dining room table when a very disheveled looking Harry trudged in. Quite frankly, he had not expected the boy to put in an appearance this morning, given the late hour of their talk last night, but he was pleased to see him just the same.

He greeted his godson as cheerfully as he could under the circumstances with Harry just grunting in assent. The boy was not a morning person under the best of circumstances and this particular morning didn't promise a bright and happy day.

Within moments, Bicky was placing plates in front of them groaning under the weight of their traditional Sunday breakfast and Sirius noticed, without any sort of satisfaction, Harry obediently swallowing his vitamins without a word of complaint. Although his godson was going through the motions of eating, it didn't take long for Sirius to realize that the bits of waffle and sausage that Harry was fussing with never actually made it to his mouth. With that observation, Sirius decided to just call an end to the useless meal.

"If you are finished eating, I would like you to get washed and dressed. I want to take you somewhere this morning," he stated cryptically.

He was pleased to see that Harry was at least somewhat interested as the boy cocked his head to one side and peered at him with mild curiosity.

"Where are we going?"

Sirius paused for a moment, unsure as to how much he should say about their destination. He had struggled with the idea all night and was even now having second thoughts. But, he realized that his godson had to understand exactly why his over-protectiveness had kicked into high gear. Since Harry was being more than understanding about the whole situation, Sirius felt that the bare honesty of his fears was nothing less than the boy deserved.

"I want to show you why I'm so worried for you, little one," he said softly.

Harry could see the naked pain in his godfather's eyes when he gave his answer. Not sure as to whether or not he really wanted to know what had Sirius so spooked, he decided that the least he owed his godfather was the chance to present his case. Wiping his mouth with his napkin, he stood and climbed the stairs back to his room.

Twenty minutes later, a noticeably more awake Harry joined his godfather in the entryway. Sirius held out his cloak, draping it around Harry's shoulders and fastening the clasp. Harry tolerated his godfather's affectionate ministrations good naturedly. It was quite obvious that Sirius was feeling rather guilty about removing him from his school and, as a result, was acting a bit more clingy than usual.

He followed along dociley as Sirius led him outside to their usual apparition point, taking his godfather's offered arm silently and preparing himself for the sickening feeling of the travel.

******

Within seconds, they had landed hard on the cobblestone path running along the high street of a quaint little town. Harry took a minute to get his bearings, the method of travel upsetting his stomach as usual. Coming so soon after the trip last night made him a bit queasier than normal and he fought to keep down the few bites of breakfast that he had managed.

Sirius rubbed his back soothingly, patient as always for the boy to catch his breath once again. Once the flash of green had passed over Harry's face, his godfather gave him half a smile and silently inquired with a tilt of his head if he was ready to proceed. Nodding, Harry took a deep breath and paused for a moment to take in his surroundings.

There wasn't much to the town. Harry could make out a small post office to his right and a pub to his left. There were a few assorted other little shops and bits littered around the town square. In the center of the square was an obelisk, but what it commemorated, Harry couldn't tell from the distance. Behind the main business area, a few streets spread out in various directions dotted with cozy looking cottages. As strange as the circumstances were, Harry couldn't help feeling an inexplicable affinity for the little village.

Sirius stood by, quietly observing and letting Harry drink his fill. It pained him more than he could ever describe to watch Harry take in these particular surroundings in such a fashion. When it began to be too much to be born, he slung an arm around the boy's shoulders and gently led him down the high street towards the church in the distance.

Harry didn't comment as they walked. Their shoes crackled against the brittle fallen leaves along the path, the morning air crisp. Every so often, a deep exhale from the black haired boy produced a small wisp of steam as it mixed with the coldness surrounding him. It did not escape his notice that it was unseasonably cold for the first of November. Although he had not asked Sirius for a location, there was no doubt in his mind that they were still somewhere in England.

Harry noticed, as they got progressively closer to the church, that Sirius seemed to tense up the further along they walked. It wasn't until his godfather led him through the wrought iron kissing gate of the churchyard that he realized they were heading towards a cemetery. Startled, he stopped short, causing Sirius to turn abruptly to look at him.

"Sirius, where are we going?" he asked quietly, already guessing the answer in his head.

Pausing for moment, Sirius' eyes softened with sadness, confirming what Harry already suspected. "To see your Mum and Dad."

Harry sucked in a harsh breath, his heart racing in panic. It wasn't as if he had never thought about his parents and whether or not there was a grave to visit. He had thought about it, quite a lot actually, as a small child.

He had even had the courage to ask Aunt Petunia about it once, only to have her screech at him over the freakishness of his parents and how she neither knew nor cared where they were laid to rest. The tongue lashing she gave him was so ferocious in nature that he had never had the strength to ask again, preferring to keep his own ideas about it over the reality.

To have the answer to years of questions so close in hand excited him, but he was more overcome by the crushing emotion of making his first trip to the site. Especially given the fact that it had only been yesterday that marked the thirteenth anniversary of their murder. It was almost too much to take.

Sirius watched his godson struggle and was seriously contemplating giving up the whole thing as a bad idea and taking the boy home. Perhaps it was too much right now for Harry to deal with. He wondered if he would ever stop making these kinds of mistakes. But when he caught Harry taking small peeks at the headstones behind him in the distance, he decided that it might just be what they both needed.

Sirius reached out to brush some stray hair from Harry's forehead as he looked into the green eyes, questioning Harry's willingness to continue. When he saw the boy nod slightly, he dropped his hand close to Harry's own, pleasantly surprised when he felt the small slightly cold fingers slip themselves into his grasp. Gripping his godson's hand tightly, he led them through the long aisles between headstones, confidently making his way towards the two they sought.

Although he had only had a few occasions to visit, the precise location was burned into his memory and it didn't take long for them to reach it. Over the short period of time between his release from St. Mungo's and Harry's arrival at King's Cross, Sirius had made this trip almost every day in some desperate need to make up for all of the years that he had been unable to properly pay his respects to his best friend and his beautiful wife. He was ashamed to realize that, once Harry had arrived, he had not had the time to think about doing so again.

It had never really dawned on him that Harry would not have been afforded the opportunity to see where his parents slumbered for eternity and he felt another wave of crushing guilt for not having facilitated this visit sooner under less dire circumstances. It would have been hard enough for the boy in the first place.

Harry clung to his hand like it was a lifeline as they weaved in and out of the rows of headstones. When they finally arrived, Sirius stopped and stood, squeezing Harry's hand a little tighter, letting the boy take in the site at his own pace. He felt Harry first press up closer against his side, breathing heavily, but it was just another minute before he backed away again and began to tentatively approach the twin granite stones, releasing Sirius' hand as he walked.

Sirius watched as Harry knelt down on the hard ground between the stones, reaching out a hand to gently trace the letters spelling out first James' name and then Lily's.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death," he murmured, reading the inscription on the headstones, just before turning a distraught face up to his godfather. "What does that mean, Sirius?" he asked tearfully. "Are they still being pursued by evil, even here?"

Rushing over to where his godson was hunched over, he dropped to knees and took the boy in his arms. "No, Harry. It means that, as long as we keep them alive in our hearts and minds, they will never truly die."

Harry turned and buried his face into Sirius' broad shoulder, his small chest heaving with the exertion of pushing back the sobs that threatened to escape. He refused to cry, he wouldn't! For Sirius' part, he just held the boy as tightly as he could until the hitching motions stopped and Harry pulled away, giving him a baleful look.

"Why did you bring me here, Sirius? Why now?"

Sirius gazed at him sadly and slowly withdrew his wand. With two small flourishes, the dead leaves and debris that littered the grave site whirled upwards in a mini tornado and proceeded to blow away, tidying up the area below.

"You know how I felt about your parents, Harry," he stated matter of factly. "Your father was the closest thing to real family that I ever truly had." Turning his wand's attention to James' headstone, he began to clean the small patches of dirt that had accumulated in the grooves of the engraved name and dates.

"I never thought I would ever feel more love and affection for a person than I did for James.....and then Lily as well." Sirius' wand now made a pass over Lily's headstone, magically scrubbing away the months of neglect since his last visit.

Harry watched as Sirius' eyes went hard for a minute and then dropped in sadness again as he continued to fuss.

"They are here because of my foolish belief that we were invincible," he muttered quietly. "They are here because we were all young and ignorant enough to believe that we knew everything, that we could take anything thrown at us and come out on top. We were so naive."

Sirius stood and made his way over to the small empty space to the right of James' headstone. Swirling his wand over the ground, he began to remove the debris from the surface of the ground there as well.

"When your father died, Harry, it shattered me. I was out of my mind with grief and it cost both of us thirteen years of your life. Now, all I have of him to spend time with is a plot of land and a stone. A poor substitution for the brother that I adored."

As Harry continued to watch, a horrific awareness dawned on him when he realized just exactly what his godfather was doing.

"When you came to live with me, and we got to know each other and spend time with each other, I discovered that, as much as I loved your parents, it paled in comparison to how much I love you."

Sirius' wand stilled over the now completely cleared rectangular patch of ground. He stared down at it sadly, a lone traitorous tear sliding down his face.

"I won't make the same mistake again. I will not sit idly by and watch you walk into harm's way until all of have of you is another plot of land."

Harry jumped to his feet and threw his arms around Sirius, both clinging to the other in their shared pain and grief until the brisk wind bit into them. With Harry still firmly in his embrace, Sirius apparated them back to the comforting confines of their home.

******

In the encroaching darkness, Sirius found himself once again sitting in front of his fireplace, clutching a tumbler of liquid courage. It had been a strange quiet sort of day after their return from Godric's Hollow.

Harry had asked no further questions, although his godfather was sure that he had something on the tip of his tongue several times throughout the day. But the boy had merely contented himself to keep as close to Sirius as his teenaged pride would allow. It was no sacrifice on Sirius' part to allow this. He had "tucked" Harry into bed about an hour earlier and now, in his solitude, the sorrow that had threatened to engulf him all day was finally making a strong appearance.

He stared absentmindedly into the crackling flames, reminded painfully of Lily's fiery hair, only to be brought out of his musings by the sound of feet padding softly across the hard wood. Turning, he saw Harry standing hesitantly at the door in his tee shirt and pajama pants, feet bare on the cold floor.

"Everything okay, Harry?" he asked worriedly.

Harry nodded and crossed the length of the room, dropping quietly into the chair next to his godfather. They sat in silence for a moment before Harry finally spoke.

"I understand why you want me to stay here, Sirius. I really do, and I wanted you to know that."

Sirius looked at the boy quizzically, pleased by the admission, but confused as to why Harry still looked pensive. He waited a few seconds and was not disappointed when Harry continued.

"But, I'm just hiding here. My parents were hiding too, and it didn't stop them from getting killed."

Harry's frank words startled Sirius, almost to the point that the tumbler in his hand made a return trip to the floor. He opened his mouth to speak, but his godson beat him to the punch.

"If you truly think that I'm better off here than at Hogwarts, I'll believe you. I'll stay and I won't complain. But, Sirius, whoever is coming after me, they are just going to keep on coming whether I'm here or at school. Maybe this time, it might be better to meet them head on instead of sitting around and waiting for them to come here. Because....I think we both know that it will never stop. Will it?"

In the darkness of the library, godfather and godson stared at each other, each one more determined than the other to make sense out of madness.

****

Monday morning, the students of Hogwarts streamed into the Great Hall, eager to partake of the magnificent breakfast supplied by the house elves. Thoroughly engaged in chatter and gossip, hardly anyone paid attention to the late arrivals at the door.

Albus, standing in the dizzyingly high entryway about to make his entrance, watched the approaching pair with no small measure of satisfaction. As they drew ever closer, he also could not help but take notice of the cold stare of the younger man, determination hard set in the steely gray.

"Sirius, Harry. I am so very pleased to see you both this morning," he greeted in his usual lilting tone. "Do I take your presence here to mean that young Harry will be allowed to stay?"

Sirius made him wait an agonizing moment before nodding his confirmation. "It would seem that my godson is inconveniently talented in preparing convincing arguments against me," Sirius stated, dropping his hard glare to gaze fondly at the boy. He ruffled Harry's hair affectionately and prodded him gently towards the room. Harry threw back a large smile and then strode happily towards the Gryffindor table.

"_And the child grew, waxed strong in spirit, filled with wisdom_," Albus muttered, almost too softly for Sirius to hear.

"Hmm?" Sirius asked absentmindedly, still too absorbed in watching the enthusiastic greeting that Harry received from Ron and Hermione to really pay attention.

"It means that soon I think Harry shall be educating _us_, and not the other way around," Albus replied, his twinkle making a grand reappearance.

Sirius turned and once more focused hard gray against twinkling blue.

"If this is going to happen, Albus, it is going to be on my terms," he stated firmly.

"Sirius, my boy, I have no doubt of this," he answered, happy once again to lead the younger man towards the professor's table.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N This chapter positively _refused_ to be written. Sure, it's just some interaction that I wanted between Sirius and Remus before some Tournament action starts, but honestly, I could not believe how badly my muse deserted me! Feel free to comment away. I may choose to rewrite it.

********

In the glory days of the Marauders, Sirius Black and James Potter were practically worshipped as gods as they carelessly strolled through the hallowed hallways of Hogwarts.

And who could disagree with that?

Young, impossibly handsome, wealthy, brilliant, fearless, confident. Very attractive packages, the both of them, to the entire student body. With a few Slytherin exceptions, the girls of the student body wanted to date them and the boys just wanted to _be_ them.

With a careless toss of his shoulder length black waves, his muscled forearm rippling with strength, Sirius could have any hormonal coed within a hundred feet swooning. James' messy _just-dismounted-from-my-broom-after-single-handedly-slaying-dragons_ look indeed slayed anything in his path. Anything female, at least.

Their long list of daring-do exploits, continuously risking and perpetually skirting expulsion, as well as their daredevil feats of skill and cunning on the Quidditch pitch, gave the charmingly conceited boys a cult following during their years of magical education. If it had not been for the long standing disdain of a certain Lily Evans, James Potter would have considered himself on par with Merlin himself.

Unfortunately, in his present capacity as guardian of a socially awkward teenager, Sirius' wild popularity as an adolescent left him completely unprepared to effectively counsel Harry on the emotional repercussions of his godson's currently less than stellar standing amongst his own peers.

***

"Harry, you have to eat something," Sirius scolded for the umpteenth time as his godson brooded over a full plate of stew.

Harry threw his godfather a baleful look before straightening up and setting his jaw in an obstinate manner. Squaring his shoulders, he dropped his fork into the plate and reached for his milk glass.

"I told you. I'm just not that hungry today, Sirius," he grumbled, taking a long swig from his glass.

For the sake of harmony, the concerned godfather decided to refrain from making any comment on the fact that Harry's eyebrows had become permanently furrowed of late and even now were reinforcing the agitation indentations in his forehead.

Leaning over, he reached out and gently rubbed the scowl lines with the pad of his thumb.

"Your school mates will get over this, Harry," he soothed quietly. "They are just a little put out and jealous now, but it will pass."

Harry let out a loud huff of air and irritably ducked out of Sirius' reach. He wasn't in any kind of mood to be placated like a whinging toddler.

"It's no big deal," he protested. "I don't care what they think." He wasn't sure which one of them he was actually trying to convince with his poorly executed disinterest.

In truth, he did care.

He cared very much about what some of his school fellows thought.

Fortunately, most of the other Gryffindors seemed to be behind him, spurred on, he believed, by a very genuine Angelina Johnson. Angelina had entered her own name and when she was passed over, she had very exuberantly embraced Harry's role of champion. Always a team player, she was just happy to see a Gryffindor in contention and her support swayed others in their house to follow her example.

It wasn't like he had expected the Slytherins to support him. In fact, he was a bit surprised when they threw their support behind Cedric as opposed to Krum. With the way most of them bellyached about not attending Durmstrang, it was a little surreal to see them show any school spirit at all. To be frank and perhaps a bit unfair, a small part of his mind was utterly convinced that their support of Cedric was more a slap in Harry's own face as opposed to a congratulatory slap on Cedric's back. More's the pity.

Of course the Hufflepuffs would be firmly behind their champion and Harry was not the least bit put out that they were revelling in a rare moment of triumph for their house. Although, truthfully, he had not been expecting the high level of hostility the normally affable Puffs were exhibiting towards him, he didn't really take an enormous amount of umbrage against it.

No. It was the Ravenclaws who surprised him the most. He had been hoping somehow that they would be somewhat impartial. But that hadn't been the case. With few exceptions, the Ravenclaws had planted themselves firmly behind Cedric and Harry found himself more upset than he would have previously thought about the Ravenclaws' opinions of him.

Especially one particular Ravenclaw with long ebony hair and a smile that never failed to light him up inside.

It was by far too much of a reminder of the hostility he had encountered during his second year when everyone seemed to be convinced that he was the Heir of Slytherin. Of course, he had not been responsible for _that _either, and now that he was older, he found himself more angered than cowed by the behavior of the other students this time. After a while, he found himself getting tired of the wild vacillations between his hero and villain status amongst his peers.

But these were feelings that he would never admit to in front of his godfather. The last thing he wanted to show Sirius was just how much all of this champion nonsense was upsetting him. After all, it had not been an easy feat to convince the overprotective man to let him come back to Hogwarts. He really didn't need any more ammunition stacked against him in _that _particular battle.

For his part, Sirius wasn't fooled.

As a teacher, it had become impossible to miss the overt displays of disdain and hostility that many of the students were showing against his little one. The verbal taunts were just loud enough to be heard through the corridors and the proud displays of the "_Support Cedric Diggory - Hogwarts' REAL Champion_" buttons were commonplace enough. If they had not been charmed to also display "_Potter Stinks_!", Sirius would have grudgingly applauded the skillful magic behind the making of them.

In an effort to avoid heaping any more resentment against his godson, Sirius had admirably refrained from hexing the little miscreants that spitefully shoved their buttons in his godson's line of sight, for now, but his patience was wearing thin and his wand hand was itching to do some real damage.

Glancing once more over at Harry, Sirius could see that, despite his godson's valiant attempt to hide it, his boy was well and truly upset. Unsure of what to do to make the situation more bearable, he came to the only helpful conclusion he could. Standing from his place at the dinner table, he threw his napkin on the chair.

"Right then, Harry. Go put your training clothes on. I think a little time in the Room of Requirement is in order."

Harry looked up at him in surprise. They had just trained the day before and Sirius had firmly told him that there would be no more training until he was caught up on his mound of school work.

"Sirius, you said...I have homework," he stuttered out, confused at his godfather's new position.

"Sod it," Sirius uncharacteristically swore, his gray eyes stormy with frustration. "It can wait until later. I'll write you a note."

Harry jumped up, more than pleased with his godfather's change of heart. Without the thrill of Quidditch, Harry's training sessions had been a godsend to the boy and he bolted for his room before Sirius changed his mind.

For the next two hours, Sirius worked his godson hard, letting Harry release some of his pent up frustration and anger as they dueled around the room. Shielded from the accusatory glares and condescending needling about a situation in which he had had no hand, Harry focused the considerable amount of negative energy building up inside of him on strengthening his offenses and defenses against the faceless spectre that had dragged him into the blasted competition against his will.

When they stumbled, exhausted, back to the residence, Sirius was pleased to note that Harry seemed much less tense than he had been for days, the worry lines in his godson's forehead all but gone.

With the added bonus of the time spent also serving to hone the boy's growing repertoire of fighting skills, Sirius was going to call this evening a win-win.

****

When his godfather opened the door to the residence upon their return, Harry couldn't help but notice the immediate tensing of the man's muscles. Without a word, Sirius whipped out his wand and shoved Harry fully behind him as he poised for an attack.

Harry was startled for a brief second before grabbing his own wand, preparing to stand beside Sirius against whatever it was that had invaded their home. He could tell by the way that his godfather was cautiously positioned that Sirius was allowing Padfoot's senses to briefly take over, the canine instincts being much more powerful than any man's.

Harry stood in readiness and silence, his own ears alert for any sound of movement ahead of them, his wand hand twitching to be employed. After an intermidably long second, he sensed Sirius relaxing and proceeded to drop his own guard in response.

Sirius' posture dropped its tension as easily as discarding a scarf and he turned to wink at Harry, a slightly relieved smirk on his face.

"It's not that we are not thrilled to have you here, Moony," he drawled in amusement, directing his voice towards the bedrooms, "but I would appreciate it if you would take care to give us some sort of tangible sign when you are going to appear. I nearly severed your head from your neck."

Casually striding out of his bedroom, Remus smiled slightly as he shook out one of his cloaks, proceeding to hang it on the hook next to the fireplace with Sirius' and Harry's.

"Unless I am quite mistaken, Sirius, it was you who requested my presence here, was it not?" he teased, reaching out to squeeze Harry's shoulder briefly as he walked by them and back towards the bedroom.

Harry looked up at Sirius questioningly and received a mischievous grin in response.

"Indeed I did," he admitted, making his way into the sitting room towards the roaring fire. "However, as I asked you to come and help me ensure Harry's safety during the competition, one would think that you would avoid behavior that might get yourself killed before the first task is even announced. Otherwise, what good are you to us?"

Harry watched as Remus strolled back into the sitting room, idly placing a stack of books on the dining table even as he flicked his wand in Sirius' direction. Seeing his godfather's ebony hair change to a shocking pink color, Harry choked back a laugh.

"I would say that, given your apparently deplorable skills in securing the residence against unwanted intruders, my superbly trained presence here will be of immeasurable good," Remus retorted cheekily.

Sirius turned back towards them, grinning slyly at Remus' retreating back.

"Oh, come now, man. Let's not give Harry false impressions. Not only are you one of the few people that the wards of the residence recognize, but you were also expected _tomorrow_, if I am not mistaken. I can hardly be blamed for not knowing that it was you."

Sirius smiled at Harry as he idly swished his wand at Remus' back, transfiguring the threadbare tweed trousers and cardigan he was sporting into a floral print dress that even Aunt Petunia would be proud to wear.

Harry couldn't restrain his merriment any further and burst out laughing. Sirius hooked him around the neck and flopped both of them down to sit on the couch, snorting at Remus' appearance.

"You're a vision, Moony," he crooned dramatically. "Marry me!"

Harry buried his face into Sirius' shoulder, tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks. With good humor, Remus regained his proper attire and continued to unpack.

"Prat," he called out to Sirius affectionately. "You are setting a bad example for your godson."

"Pot, kettle, Remus," Sirius reminded him as he fluffed his bubblegum colored coiffure. Looking down at Harry, he raised an eyebrow as he continued to fluff.

"What do you think, Harry? Too much?" Amusement sparkled in his silvery eyes as he let Harry smirk at him for a minute. "Yeah, you're right of course." Sirius flicked his own wand and the pink receded, giving way to his natural black again.

"It's a shame really," Sirius continued as Remus walked back into the room with another armful of books. "I am one of the few men comfortable enough in my own masculinity to pull that look off."

Remus rolled his eyes and walked over to sit in the chair next to them. "I swear, Sirius, you're head is so huge that I am amazed that you don't need to shrink it just to get in the door."

He winked at Harry who was sitting comfortably pressed into the corner of the couch, enjoying the easy banter between his godfather and his best friend. With the tension release of the heavy workout, it was the most relaxed Harry had felt in days.

"Remus has very kindly agreed to help oversee the tasks for the tournament, Harry," Sirius explained quietly, his voice laced with a small tremor of unease. "I told Dumbledore that I would feel better knowing that someone is actually looking out for your best interests if you must compete in the bloody thing."

Remus chuckled softly as he leaned back into the cushioned padding of the chair.

"I don't think that was exactly how you phrased that, Sirius," he laughed. "I believe the words you used were more like _'this is what I want'_ and _'If you know what is good for you, Albus'_. Isn't that closer to what actually transpired?"

When Harry's eyes widened in surprise over his godfather's presumption with the headmaster, Sirius fondly glared over at his still smirking friend. "Snitch."

Remus merely shrugged, amused when Harry looked at Sirius in awe over his godfather's brazen demands of a wizard like Dumbledore. The clock above the mantle chimed quarter past ten and prompted Sirius to stand up in realization.

"It's past your bedtime, kiddo," he said to Harry, jerking his head towards the clock. "And you need a bath first. All of that exercise. You smell like a mountain troll."

Harry rolled his eyes and allowed Sirius pull him to his feet. "I'm not tired, Sirius," he muttered half heartedly as he suppressed a yawn.

Sirius smirked and propelled Harry toward the direction of the bathroom. "I can see that. But I'm mean and cruel and Remus and I want to talk about you behind your back, so off you go now," he teased as he gave Harry a swat.

Harry threw Sirius a glare, but realistically he was fairly exhausted so he obeyed, making his way slowly towards the bathroom. He stopped suddenly and turned to towards Remus. Clearing his throat, he hesitantly raised his eyes towards his former teacher.

"Thanks, Professor. For everything you're doing for me."

Remus smiled and nodded his head gently. "You're quite welcome, Harry." Harry returned the affable grin and then turned to lope the rest of the way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Sirius watched his godson depart, his face calm but his eyes troubled and stormy. Remus knew that look well enough to cease the teasing banter and summon the bottle of Firewhiskey from the cabinet. Pouring two fingers of the amber liquid into a pair of tumblers, he pressed one into Sirius' hand and then leaned back into the chair waiting. Years of experience had taught him that Sirius needed to brood for a few minutes and then unload his troubled mind.

Remus waited until Sirius' glass was half empty before initiating conversation. By this time, his friend's gray eyes had wandered back towards the fireplace and softened slightly.

"How is Harry _really_ doing," he finally asked quietly, his eyes gentle and encouraging.

Sirius exhaled a long heavy breath and took a drink from his glass. He shook his head slightly, wearily.

"He's holding his own. Nervous, although he's trying hard not to show it and more upset about the teasing than he'll admit to." Sirius shook his head sadly and leaned back into the padding of the couch, crossing his long legs and studying the ice cubes in his glass. "His schoolmates aren't making it very easy for him."

Remus smiled sympathetically and patted Sirius' knee. "No, I wouldn't imagine that they are. Envy is a powerful emotion and Harry already gives his schoolmates more to be jealous of than most."

Sirius scowled and turned to glare at his friend. "It's not Harry's fault that things like this keep happening to him, Moony. He carries enough burdens without having a bunch of little snot nosed brats giving him a hard time."

Remus drew back in a slight state of shock at the hostility in Sirius' tone. Sirius was a good teacher and a fairly indulgent man. Hearing him speak about students in such harsh tone was completely out of character for him and only served to underline the depth of his concern over Harry's treatment.

He was about to remark on this unusual behavior when the door to the bath opened and Harry, damp haired and pajama clad, stepped out amidst a cloud of steam. Sirius got to his feet and strode over to his godson, placing a protective hand on the boy's shoulder. Turning towards his bedroom door, Harry gave Remus a jaunty little wave and wished him goodnight. Concerned over Sirius' frame of mind, Remus had to force a smile onto his face as he returned the sentiment and watched them disappear into Harry's room.

****

Inside the small bedroom, Harry picked up his hairbrush and futilely tried to smooth out his uncooperative spikes while his godfather turned his bed down. Giving it up as a bad job, he dropped the brush onto his dresser with a loud clatter and plodded over to his bed, eyes drooping and yawning widely. Although he had not had a night terror in a while, he was slightly on edge that he was as exhausted as he was. They had a nasty habit of coming more vividly when when he was this worn out.

Flopping to sit on the edge of the bed, he obediently handed his glasses over when Sirius held out his hand for them. All part of the new nightly routine that they had easily fallen into after a training session.

"Where does it hurt?" Sirius asked kindly, making his godson smirk. He could tell by the way that Harry was moving that the boy had done something to injure himself again during their duels.

"Right shoulder again," Harry admitted sheepishly, already knowing the mild scolding he was about to get.

Sirius frowned and let out an over-exaggerated sigh as he pulled a pot of salve from the drawer in Harry's night-table. "You are over-arcing your hexes again, Harry. Your wand will do the work for you. You are casting a spell with it, not beating someone about the head with it," he lectured as he twisted the lid off.

Harry grunted in assent, too tired to defend himself. He pulled his right arm out of the sleeve of his T-shirt and grabbed a pillow off of the bed. Wrapping his arms around the pillow, he leaned over and buried the left side of his face in it tiredly, comfortable and content to sit there as Sirius began to softly slather the salve onto his right shoulder blade.

As Sirius gently massaged the sore muscles, Harry could feel the welcoming tingle of the salve as it began to work, immediately relieving the pain. The swirling fragrance of it, subtly laced with the essence of a sleeping draught, lulling him to sleep.

"Sirius?" he murmured from the pillow. "What's Remus doing here? I thought you couldn't help me."

Sirius smiled at the tired muffled question. Silently, he blessed Poppy again for adding the sleeping essence to the salve. Harry had been tossing and turning at night since his name had popped out of the goblet, but on the nights that they trained, the boy slept deeply and restfully. It was a respite that they both had needed.

"Well, _I_ can't assist you. But there is nothing to stop Remus. He is neither a parent, nor an employee of Hogwarts or of the Ministry."

That little rule of the tournament had nearly sent Sirius round the twist once he had been informed of it. He had suspected that employees of the various schools would be magically prohibited from offering assistance and, as such, had tendered his resignation upon their return to the castle that Monday morning. To his enormous horror, Dumbledore had refused to accept it, explaining that he would be bound as Harry's legal guardian anyway.

Remus, however, had no existing conflict with the tournament, and Harry's continuing presence at Hogwarts stipulated that Remus be allowed to oversee the tasks. In the fairness of the tournament, he would not be allowed to give Harry specific instructions on how to succeed, but he would be allowed to act as an independent third party and check for any use of dark magic before the tasks began.

Although Albus had assured him repeatedly of the number of wizards and witches working to ensure Harry's safety, Sirius took this with a grain of salt and it was only the participation of his oldest friend that alleviated the sharpest of his fears.

"He's come for the wand weighing ceremony tomorrow," Sirius said quietly as he finished, plucking the top of the salve container from the night-table and sealing it shut again. "I thought it was important to establish right away that Remus would be looking out for any funny business. With any luck, it will act as a deterrent."

Harry grunted again and sleepily pulled his shirt sleeve back on. With his eyes half closed, he fumbled his way into bed with Sirius' assistance, burying himself into the blankets that his godfather had put a warming charm onto. It had been quite a while since he had felt this tired and he found himself tumbling helplessly into the dark abyss of slumber.

By the time Sirius had replaced the container into the night-table, Harry was breathing deeply and evenly. He gazed affectionately at his sleeping godson and bent over, brushing the damp fringe away and pressing a soft kiss onto his forehead.

He tucked the blankets close around Harry's shoulders and then stood back up, whispering _Nox_ as he slipped out of the room, grateful for another day of his godson's continued safety.

***************

Remus was sitting by the fire, waiting for him to return, the tumblers of whiskey refreshed. When Sirius waved his away, Remus raised his eyebrows, knowing that his friend was truly troubled.

"We're not going to let anything happen to him, Padfoot," he said, in a voice that he hoped sounded as encouraging as he meant the words.

Sirius flopped back down onto the sofa and propped his elbows onto his knees, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. He allowed himself only a short moment of weakness before raising his face back up and giving Remus a wan smile.

"I know that. And I appreciate your willingness to come back here and help. I know it was a lot to ask you to leave your home and bunk here with us for the rest of the school year. You don't know how grateful I am for your support."

Remus let out an amused huff and leaned back into his chair. "You know that there is nothing I wouldn't do for Harry, or for you, you mangy mutt." Remus' words were light and teasing, but his amber eyes were kind and sincere. "Moreover, I am happy to be here for as long as the two of you will have me. I like my solitude occasionally, but I've lost too many years of your companionship already. Don't you think?"

Sirius smiled broadly and nodded his head. "I do."

They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each engrossed in their own thoughts as they watched the flickering flames. Finally, Remus cleared his throat, hesitant to broach a sore topic.

"Does Albus have any further suspicions about what happened?"

Sirius scowled slightly, never taking his eyes from the fireplace. "No. Just what we already knew. Whoever it was, they got close enough to the Goblet to enter Harry's name under a fourth school. Only someone very skilled and very connected could have confunded a magical object like that. This is no amateur player we are dealing with. They went through an awful lot of trouble to get Harry into the tournament."

Remus nodded his agreement, slowly sipping his whiskey and savoring the burn sliding down his throat. "You are still planning on keeping Harry in the residence full-time? Even though we agree that he is likely to be targeted while he is competing?"

Sirius whipped his head around to glare at his friend with hard eyes. "Yes. I am. What if they decide that it would just be easier to kill him while he is walking through the corridors? Do you expect me to risk his safety just because we have an _idea_ about where he is going to be most vulnerable?"

"No, of course not, Sirius," Remus soothed. "But, no matter what you do, you can't be with him twenty four hours a day. There are safety measures to keep unwanted visitors out of Gryffindor tower."

Sirius huffed in annoyance and shook his head in irritation. "A fat lot of good it did him previously. _I_ got in, didn't I?" He turned his head away and glared daggers into the fire. "And so did the _rat_," he hissed.

Remus held up a hand in surrender, feeling badly for provoking an argument. It had not been his intention. "You're right, Padfoot. I just feel badly that he'll be so alienated from the other students by having to live here instead of the dorms. It won't help to soften their hostility towards him."

"I feel badly about it too, Moony," Sirius admitted, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "I don't want to keep him locked up here anymore than he wants to be here. Don't you think I would rather have him running around with his friends, pulling pranks? I never wanted this for him."

Agitated, Sirius leaned over and snagged the tumbler of whiskey he had rejected earlier. He took a bracing sip and then held the glass to his forehead, shutting his eyes and attempting to soothe the stabbing headache that was developing.

"His friends are welcome here anytime. He knows this. I don't want to alienate him from anybody. But, what can I do? There are just too many untrustworthy people running around this castle right now."

He opened his eyes and turned once more to stare at Remus. "You will do what I asked, won't you?"

Remus sipped at his whiskey and nodded slowly. "I will. I don't necessarily agree with you, but I will do it anyway. We can't be too cautious."

Sirius frowned and plonked his tumbler back onto the coffee table. "How can you not agree with me? He is the most obviously candidate."

Remus nodded agreeably, leaning over to prop his elbows on his knees. "I know. That's why I'm not sure it is him. He's _too_ obvious."

"My point exactly!" Sirius spit out. "It could be such a win-win situation for him. Think of what it would mean for his school if his champion were to compete against the Boy Who Lived and defeat him. Krum is _years_ advanced over Harry in lessons and even more physically skilled. And that is just the positive spin on the situation."

Sirius stood up suddenly and began to pace, his face a mask of rage. "Not only that, but Karkaroff is a known Death Eater. Who's to say that he isn't trying to get Harry into a situation where he could hand him over to Voldemort? We know how well connected he is. I sat and rotted in Azkaban while that bastard walked free."

Remus stood up as well and reached out a gentle arm to still his friend's fevered motions. "I know, Sirius," he said gently. "And I fully plan on becoming his personal shadow. Together, we will keep Harry safe, old man. I promise you that."

Sirius forced his breathing to slow, comforted by his friend's support and assurances. "I know we will. It's just....he is my whole world, Remus. If anything happened to him.....I just don't know..."

Remus nodded and patted his shoulder in comfort. Feeling tired all of sudden, Sirius reached up to squeeze Remus' hand briefly in thanks. "I need to get some rest. It's good to have you here."

With that, he sauntered off to his bedroom to sleep fitfully.

******

These days, there were few things that brought pleasure to Sirius.

Harry, of course, was the main thing. All that boy had to do was smile at him and Sirius' heart overflowed with affection and happiness.

The second thing was the occasional snippet of opportunity to stir up an old rivalry with Snape. In the most harmless and healthiest ways, of course. The black haired git was still of supreme use to his godson with the ongoing Occlumency lessons and Sirius was genuinely too grateful to ever forget that fact.

But, certainly no one was expecting him to be sweetness and light _all_ the time. Right? Really, was there any reason to feel the least big smarmy about the look on Severus' face when Sirius strolled into the dungeon classroom to collect his godson for the wand weighing ceremony?

It wasn't his fault that Snape's lip curled up so much one would think he had a large smudge of dung directly under his nostrils, was it? If the situation had not been so very entirely dire, Sirius suspected he would have laughed right out loud at the greasy man's continuing disdain for any prominence of a Potter.

Somewhat more lighthearted than he had been before, Sirius slung an arm around his godson's shoulders as they made their way to the wand weighing. Remus had already gone ahead to speak to Ollivander and to cast the necessary spells to ensure that nothing was amiss.

Entering the small classroom, they could see that they were the last to arrive, the other champions already in conversation with each other. At the far end of the room, Ludo Bagman spotted them and came sprinting over as fast as his rotund frame would allow. He thrust his hand forward in greeting and Harry took it, noticing with a fair measure of unease that his godfather had gone suddenly rigid.

Ignoring Bagman's enthusiastic gushing, Harry looked over to where Sirius' gray eyes were staring with no small measure of hostility.

In the distance stood a witch, dressed in tacky magenta robes, her platinum blond curls piled high on her head. Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of them and Harry got the unpleasant feeling that she was looking at them with the same regard as a hungry animal would possess as it looked at a very tasty roast chicken.

Turning back toward Sirius, he was unnerved to see his godfather's face contort into one of sheer hatred. Sirius' eyes squinted in hostility and his upper lip curled into a snarl so fierce that Harry himself was a bit frightened. His godfather's arm tightened around his shoulders so much that it almost became painful and Harry was about to protest when Sirius finally spoke in a voice dripping in venom.

"Rita Skeeter."


	18. Chapter 18

A/N I am always so appreciative of the people who are reading and enjoying the stories. So many of you have taken the time to review and give me feedback since the start and it is so very helpful. I'm also just humbled by the number of new reviewers! Thank you very much!

I would like to ask if you all would prefer longer chapters or faster updates. Sometimes it can't be helped. If a chapter is flowing, it is flowing. But as a rule, what do you prefer?

*********

_Howarts - February 1977_

When Peter Pettigrew scampered down to breakfast that morning, it was not his intention to start a chain reaction of events that would ultimately contribute to Sirius Black's imprisonment.

It had started out just as every other morning had following Sirius' surprise expulsion from the inner circle of the Marauders. Less than a fortnight had passed since the student body, minus one very significant greasy haired boy, was plunged into complete darkness regarding the jaw dropping break amongst the iron clad quartet.

As usual in any boarding school setting, where time was plentiful and gossip a dietary staple of life, the rumor mill was in heavy production, rife with speculation. With stories being bandied about containing wild guesses that ranged anywhere from Sirius embracing his family's ideals of blood purity and turning on the two half bloods and the pure blood in love with a muggle born (from the more generous side of speculation) to a fallout over a lover's quarrel between Sirius and James (from the greatly less than generous side).

None of the students would have ever had the creative imagination to hazzard a correct guess of what had actually transpired that night in the tunnel to the Shrieking Shack.

One thing that was _perfectly_ clear was the obvious discomfort and distress between Sirius and the other three boys. Although Sirius was making a good job of steering directly clear of them, he was never _too_ far away, the pained looks that he shot in their direction visible to anyone that took the time to notice. As for the other boys, their faces displayed a myriad of emotions.

Little Peter, in typical fashion, twitched nervously as he trailed the other two through the hallowed corridors, eyes blinking rapidly, not seeming to know what to do with himself. Remus' face held a near constant state of melancholy and he was the only one of the three to make any attempt at all to approach Sirius. Unfortunately, Sirius seemed to have developed a habit of late of paling and bolting whenever the mild mannered brunette took a step in his direction.

But it was the behavior of James that completely confunded the student body. Clearly the closest to Sirius of the three, he was seen to let his attention wander towards his best mate several times during the school day, a genuine sadness apparent on his face.

To the casual observer, James and Sirius would lock gazes, pained hazel to pleading gray, only to have James square his jaw, eyes growing cold and dismissive as he turned away sharply, leaving Sirius to flinch as if he had been physically struck.

To the careful observer, one could then see Remus' normally calm countenance crinkle into a small frown of disapproval, but if he ever uttered a vocal reproach, it was never heard.

So, on this most normal of recently abnormal days, no one seemed to notice anything unusual about Sirius entering the Great Hall for breakfast accompanied only by Frank Longbottom, or James and Remus pausing in the corridor for a moment to chat with Lily Evans, or even Peter being approached by one Miss Anita Skeeter.

***

If there was one unwritten rule between the Marauders, it was that while everyone else at school was fair game for pranking and mischief, they _never _pranked each other. For the most part, this rule was sacred and universally followed. But, like all things in nature, the dynamic in their little group did not necessarily or flawlessly translate into a relationship of four equal parts.

Each boy made a contribution to the quartet of his own inherent gifts. James brought his good humor and easy going ways. Sirius added his mischievous nature and his supreme self confidence and Remus tempered the first two boys with his gentle manner and sense of responsibility.

But, for Peter's part, the smaller boy did not have any natural gift to bring to the table. His family wasn't well off like the Potters or Blacks. He wasn't academically gifted like any of the other three. He certainly was no physical specimen to be feared or admired.

No, Peter did not have a lot to recommend him except for his fortunate sorting into Gryffindor and his uncanny ability, even at that young age, to ferret out the most likely candidates for power and popularity amongst the hierarchy of students.

At only eleven years of age, James Potter and Sirius Black already exuded the strong self image of natural born leaders. Gravitating towards each other like magnets on the very first day riding the Hogwarts Express, their friendship had firmly cemented itself long before the crimson steam engine pulled into the Hogsmeade station.

At the welcoming feast following the sorting, the two black haired boys held court amongst the other new arrivals. It didn't take long for either of them to become intrigued with the slight framed brunette sitting across from them, his amber eyes sparkling mischeiviously as they engaged him in a battle of wits that he soon won, along with their respect. And thus, Remus Lupin became the third member of their set.

Observing quietly from a few seats away, little Peter shrewdly deduced that these were the boys to fall into line with. He followed them everywhere, ingratiating himself into their little circle, shamelessly flattering them and looking at them with eyes that bordered on hero-worship.

Given the natural dispositions of the other three boys, it wasn't all that hard to become the fourth member of the group.

Remus was of a nature to like everyone, and the fawning little boy who worked so hard for their approval inspired a fondness in him. Even though they were the same age, James, an only child, looked at Peter as the nerdy little brother he never had and he adopted him as one.

For his part, Sirius enjoyed having a built-in gushing fan base in the smaller boy. Unfortunately for Peter, Sirius already had experience being a big brother and, as such, treated him as he treated Regulus, with a small measure of affection along with a rather larger dose of teasing and sport. James and Remus allowed it, so Peter endured it, knowing that it was unwise to go against Sirius when clearly his closeness to James would likely result Peter's expulsion from the group if he rocked the boat.

And so it was among them, and so it had continued to be right up to the point when, on the night of a full moon, Sirius made the colossal mistake of sending Severus Snape into the tunnel towards the transforming Remus.

**

Peter may have been able to pick out the winning horses in the popularity race, but that was where his ability to read people ended.

In his mind, friendships could never be repaired once broken. His own painful experience of being cast out from his muggle primary school set serving as a primary example. His past as a disloyal nine year old who chose the safer path of tattling on his friends to the matron, rather than standing with them after a prank turned sour, may have saved his backside from the thrashing that the other two boys received, but it destroyed any chance he had of companionship for the rest of his time at school.

The nervously awaited arrival of his Hogwarts letter had been a mercy to the shunned child. To be fair, it had been a relief to his mother as well. A not terribly gifted witch herself, she had lived on the outskirts of wizarding society after her less than stellar graduation from Hogwarts, taking employment and refuge in a lower class village where she eventually met and married Peter's very muggle father.

Mr. Pettigrew may have accepted his wife's curious background in theory, but the practice of magic was almost non-existent in their household and he preferred it that way right up until the day he passed away when his son was seven. And if Peter's mother grew nail bitingly anxious at the complete lack of even the smallest demonstration of accidental magic from her son, she never voiced her concerns out loud. The word _squib _floated around in her mind like a stain of shame and caused her to withdraw into the muggle world even further.

The day she saw the post owl in the distance, she wept in relief even before the thick creamy envelope was delivered into the shaking hands of her solitary son and she kept up a constant mantra of giving thanks to Merlin during their entire shopping trip to Diagon Alley that Peter would be given a chance at the success in life that had eluded her.

It was this background of his earlier life that caused Peter to mistakenly assume that Sirius' exile from the Marauders was permanent.

For no other reason would he have risked the wrath of the other three, regardless of his own secret desire to finally have one over on the bigger boy that teased him mercilessly. How was he to know that Remus, with his gentle ways, had already forgiven Sirius for a momentary lapse of judgment? How was he to deduce that James' hostile air was due soley to the fierce loyalty he felt was owed to their werewolf friend regardless of how much his estrangement from Sirius pained him?

Had Peter realized all of this, he would not have been so quick to assume that the time had come for a small measure of personal payback. Had he been the tiniest bit more aware of the actual dynamic between his friends, he would perhaps have been a tad more hesitant to accept that little sickly sweet smelling vial from the love struck Anita.

**

Although separated by several years, the Skeeter sisters were as alike as two peas in a pod. The pair were as ambitious as any politician, driven more than professional athletes, as deluded as the residents of St. Mungo's permanant ward and each possessed hearts as dark as the natural roots of their bleached blond hair.

Rita had finished stampeding through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts some eight years earlier, bullying and ingratiating herself into a position with the wizarding press and dispensing snippets of news and interviews with lead pipe cruelty. Anita adoringly followed in her big sister's stiletto footprints. A slightly less pushy girl, what she lacked in brazenly wielding a verbal machete, she more than made up for with her innate talent for Machiavellian manipulations.

What Anita wanted, Anita somehow always seemed to get, regardless of the tactics that she had to employ to succeed. What she wanted right now was Sirius Black and, with his obvious ostracization from his close knit group of friends, now seemed like perfect opportunity to strike.

Anita watched her prey like a keen huntress as he shuffled into the Great Hall for breakfast. Sirius' usually proud and straight shoulders were more hunched these days, the sadness in his eyes dampening the effect of his normally blinding handsomeness. Not that Anita minded whatsoever. In her eyes, the thrill of the hunt was not lessened by any hobbling that her quarry might be suffering. She _enjoyed_ a quick kill.

The gods must have been smiling on her that day as she watched the second piece of the puzzle fall into place. Walking alone towards the Gryffindor table was little Peter Pettigrew, a member of Sirius' former set and the boy that had been putty in her hand on a number of different occasions since they began their time at school together.

She knew that Peter harbored a rather large crush on her. She had used this to her advantage more than once over the years, shamelessly batting her eyelashes and stringing him along with obscure implied promises that one day she would succumb to his charms if he pleased her well enough. Friendship with the most popular boys in the school did not translate into the same lovestruck worship for Peter that Sirius and James enjoyed from the female population. Even the studious Remus had to fight off more than his fair share of admirers, but Peter's options had been fairly limited, and the crafty Anita played him like a maestro with a Stradivarius.

Sidling up to the chubby short boy like the Slytherin that she was, she spoke into his ear with a breathy whisper, her words enticing him with their seductive warmth and scented with her strawberry lip gloss. By the time she pressed the small vial of Amortentia into his sweating palm, he was already completely convinced that his well endowed partner in crime's intention was to humiliate Sirius, nothing more, and he readily agreed to do his part.

****

Sirius was completely at a loss as to why he had never noticed the ravishing Anita Skeeter before. He must have been blind! A fool! An undeserving wretch who should content himself merely with walking in her perfectly proportioned shadow!

While he trailed after the decidedly ordinary looking blond like an obedient puppy, Peter had to fight to repress the full belly laugh that threatened to burst forward, even as James and Remus watched the newly acquired antics of their disgraced friend with more than a little curious concern. No one knew Sirius as well as James and Remus and, even in their annoyance with him, neither boy could rationally reconcile the image of him panting after a girl that had never garnered more than a casual glance in passing.

Something was up.

It wasn't that they were trying to exclude Peter from the musings out of any sort of malice. Quite the contrary. To their credit, James and Remus knew very well how Peter felt about Anita so, in deference to his feelings, they kept the conversation regarding Sirius' unusual behavior between themselves. Shamefully, James had entertained a fleeting second of thought that Sirius might be acting that way to intentionally hurt Peter with his new attentions towards Anita, but he quickly banished the idea and mentally chastised himself.

While Sirius may act impulsively on occasion, James knew better than to think that he would ever do something so intentionally hurtful.

The two boys watched Sirius for almost two days as he relentlessly glued himself to Anita's side, becoming even more horrified and desperate to figure out what was going on with their friend after Anita announced to anyone that would listen that Sirius had _begged_ her to accompany him to the St. Valentine's Ball, the highlight of the school calendar.

Choking on his morning pumpkin juice while hearing the girls buzz about the news, James spun around to give Sirius a good hard look and just managed to catch Peter pulling away from Sirius' goblet, stashing a vial into the pocket of his robe and looking incredibly guilty.

"Peter," he hissed, his hazel eyes squinting in accusation,"_what_, in Merlin's name, did you put into his goblet?"

He didn't get a satisfactory answer from the fidgeting boy as, at that minute, Sirius chose to pick up his breakfast beverage.

"Padfoot! Don't drink that!" James commanded, earning a surprised look from Remus, a shocked look from Sirius and a grimace of discomfort from Peter.

Sirius, his mind still slightly foggy with the effects of three days of drugging, reeled from the unexpected use of his affectionate nickname and dropped the goblet back onto the table with a _thunk_, spilling a small splash of it onto the worn wood. Remus, getting up to speed that something was amiss, grabbed the shiny gold cup and wafted it slightly under his nose. The human boy in him immediately smelled chocolate, the leather of antique book bindings and butterbeer, but the wolf in him could sense the raw ingredients of what was clearly a love potion.

"Amortentia," he uttered quietly and James turned to Peter with a look of absolute fury in his eyes.

***

The truce between the Marauders was officially declared in the corridor outside the Great Hall less than one hour after Peter was caught spiking Sirius' pumpkin juice.

James felt the same betrayed anger towards Peter that he had against Sirius, his desire to protect an injured party once again forcing him to turn against someone he considered a good friend. Under different circumstances, that might have been the end for Peter's inclusion into the group, but Sirius was too grateful for the unconditional forgiveness that he was granted without a second thought, Remus was too tired of all the infighting among his best friends and Peter's frantic pleading for what he called a harmless prank was too pitiful to further fuel James' resentment.

Unfortunately, it was also too late to stop Anita's deluded scheming.

Within minutes of Sirius' drug induced invitation to the Ball, Anita was fire calling her older sister with the news that the very eligible Sirius Black was going to be her escort to the school year's hottest event. Several passersby were in imminent danger of being permanently deafened by the stereo squealing of the two hyper witches as they discussed details.

Less than an hour later, Anita had a coveted appointment with a wizarding couture designer for dress robes and Rita had called in every favor she was owed to make sure that her little sister's big night was prominently covered by the Daily Prophet. In their pure blood, old family dominated society, Anita's very public association with a member of one of the oldest and most powerful families could make the reputation and fortunes of both girls. Sirius' estrangement from his family was not spoken about in polite society, and as the Blacks had not yet given up on their heir seeing the error of his ways some day, an alliance with him was still longed for as if he were royalty.

It would be the Skeeter sisters moment of triumph and they wanted _everyone_ to know it.

***

Disaster. A complete and utter disaster. The humiliation almost too much to be born.

It wasn't Sirius' fault. In all honesty, under the circumstances, he had behaved much more like a well bred gentleman than he really should have been expected to. Most of the other boys at Hogwarts would have shook with fury when discovering how badly they had been duped with a potion. After all, he had publicly followed Anita around like a love sick puppy for days before discovering the morning spikings of his juice.

However, Sirius was by far too happy over his renewed friendship with the other Marauders to be angry with anything or anyone at the moment. That, coupled with the fact that he was genuinely a nice boy, prevented him from doing anything to Anita in retaliation. In an example of his extreme good naturedness, he even tried to be as pleasant as possible to the slightly off balanced girl, assuring her that there were no hard feelings.

What more could she possibly expect?

Life went on at Hogwarts for the rest of that week as the rest of the school prepared for the upcoming Ball. The hallowed hallways were festively decorated with hearts and roses and Professor Dumbledore had even imported actual Cupids to flit about, imbuing everyone with happiness and romance with their potion tipped arrows. The Marauders were a firm quartet again and Sirius easily slipped back into the groove, his mood well improved enough to have his nicest dress robes pressed for the occasion.

The night of the affair, all four boys strutted forth towards the Great Hall, their chosen ladies on their arms, looking forward to an evening of unabashed frivolity. In a rare display of congeniality, Lily had even consented to accompany James and he puffed out his chest like a proud pasha, every two minutes snatching a glance at the stunning redhead by his side and flushing with pride. Laughing at his best mate practically hyperventilating over his partner, Sirius was thoroughly enjoying himself as he escorted the equally enchanting Marlene McKinnon.

No one was expecting what was waiting for them in the Great Hall.

When the four couples entered, they were practically blinded by the sea of popping flashbulbs provided courtesy of one Rita Skeeter. Intent on securing her sister's position in society, the ambitious junior reporter had descended upon the school with a team of photographers like a plague of locust. The entire photoshoot had been carefully orchestrated and it would surely have been the crowning achievement of the lowly born Skeeter family.

At least, it should have been.

No one, certainly not Rita herself, was expecting little Anita to come raging through the hallways in her ridiculously expensive couture dress robes, her blond curls which had been earlier piled fashionably high on her head spilling every which way as she planted her dainty slipper clad feet on the cold stone floor and squalled like a banshee. No one expected Anita to grab Sirius by the lapels of his dress robe and call him names that no properly raised young lady would dare utter in public. And no one expected to see the crazed girl to turn her attentions to the affronted and completely innocent Marlene and attempt to yank her hair out by the roots before Professor McGonagall stunned her.

No one expected any of that, but that is exactly what happened, and it all happened in full view of the wizarding world's press.

Watching her little sister being carted away to the hospital wing in disgrace, seeing the white hot blaze of flashbulbs recording every humiliating detail for all posterity, something inside Rita Skeeter broke and the withering look she gave the flabbergasted boy in the center of all the commotion would have given a basilisk a run for its money.

She didn't know when, and she didn't know how, but she knew that, one day, she would get revenge for the embarrassment suffered by her beloved little sister. Sirius Black would pay, if it was the last thing that she did.

****

_Azkaban Prison, November 1981_

Sirius Black, shackled and chained, was beyond caring.

His throat screamed raw with protests that went unheard and unheeded, his body limp from exhaustion, his mind unbalanced with grief and his heart shattered. The floor of his filthy cell in the hell that was Azkaban was littered with the debris and decay of the previous inmate. He neither noticed nor cared about its state. The intense cold and pain he suffered on a full-time basis from the omnipresent dementors almost numbing him into a welcomed blackness.

Everything and everyone had been cruelly ripped away from him in the blink of an eye. His best friend, his brother in all but blood, murdered along with their darling Lily. Betrayed by one that they had embraced as family for a decade. Sirius' precious godson ripped from his very arms, never to be seen again in this lifetime. The last Marauder standing suffering the acute indignity of now knowing that his own loyalty had been suspect, resulting in the scheme gone horribly wrong. An error that Sirius would never finish paying for as long as he lived.

In the haze of his train wreck of a mind, Sirius barely heard the now almost familiar clanking of row after row of doors being opened as someone made their way towards his end of the prison. With a tiny flicker of foresight, he managed to turn himself around, facing away from the barred cell door, ignoring the stench of the moldy mattress and idly staring at a skittering cockroach scratching its way across the floor.

"Enjoying your view, Black?"

Sirius' closed his eyes in disgust from the sound of the detested voice. Bartemius Crouch had managed to find a reason to "visit" him on a daily basis since his arrival to the prison tower and it was he who was responsible for the unique wallcovering of the dank little cell that was to house him for life.

Sirius took a heaving breath and forced himself to open his eyes and allow his gaze to travel up the walls, once more taking in the sight of the sheets of the Daily Prophet. Article after article proclaiming his guilt and overall evilness. The knowledge that he was innocent did not stop him from inflicting himself with the brutal feeling of remorse that everything was indeed his fault, and he almost began to believe the vitriol spewed by every word that Rita Skeeter wrote about him. Her fire and brimstone articles stirring up hatred for him in every corner of the wizarding world.

Denied a fair trial by the Ministry. Convicted in the court of public opinion by a woman scorned. Day after day, Sirius sat in his cell praying for death.

Rita Skeeter had her pound of flesh.


End file.
