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Sirius Black had been intrigued by Harry Potter from the moment he laid eyes on the boy during the Sorting Ceremony.
He was a scrawny boy, thin and small for his age. By now, seven years into his tenure at Hogwarts, Sirius could easily pick out the homesick students, the terrified Muggleborns, the ones who would need extra attention and care these first few weeks at Hogwarts. He didn’t get the sense that Harry Potter would be one of those students, but there was something profoundly sad about the boy.
Everyone knew that Harry Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived, of course. Everyone knew the story of that Halloween night, when Peter Pettigrew betrayed the Potters and made little Harry an orphan. He got more of the story from Headmistress McGonagall later that night, after all the students had been sent to bed: that Harry had been sent to live with Muggle relatives, and hadn’t learned about magic or the truth behind his parents’ deaths until a few weeks ago.
“No one from the wizarding world has been in contact with the boy? Not at all?” Sirius asked, aghast.
“It was for the best, Professor Black,” McGonagall said. “He grew up away from the fame, and away from anyone who might want to exact retaliation on him for the night their master died.”
“But he’s been thrown into this world with no introduction at all! No orientation!” Sirius said. “You told him about magic and the truth about his parents’ deaths and then…what? Just threw him into the deep end and let him flounder?”
“We did nothing of the sort,” McGonagall said stiffly. “The boy is hardly suffering.”
Sirius wasn’t so sure about that.
“Harry,” Sirius said after their first lesson, as the students were packing their bags and filing out of the room, “could I have a word, please?”
Looking apprehensive, Harry shouldered his bag and shuffled to the front of the room. When the other students had finally left, Sirius said, “How are you doing, Harry?”
Harry frowned. “Fine, sir.”
“This is probably a huge adjustment for you,” Sirius went on. “You didn’t know about magic until recently. There’s a whole new world out there that you didn’t even know existed. It’s a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir, a bit,” Harry admitted. “But I love it.”
Sirius chuckled. “I didn’t say that you didn’t, and I love it as well. But I just wanted to tell you that if you have any questions, any at all, you can feel free to come to me. You’ve been raised by Muggles, and there’s a lot to learn about the wizarding world. Or if you just want to talk, my door is always open to you. All right?”
Harry didn’t say anything for a moment, his green eyes considering Sirius as though assessing whether he was telling the truth or not.
“All right,” he said finally. “Thanks, Professor.”
***
Professor Black was the most interesting of Harry’s professors. He was the youngest by far, and had an accent that Harry couldn’t place. Over the course of his first few weeks at school, Harry learned that Professor Black hadn’t gone to Hogwarts at all. He had been born in England, but grew up in France with an uncle, and attended a magical school in the far north. He had fought in the war, too, but refused to discuss it further when some of Harry’s classmates asked him about it. All they knew was that he had suffered some permanent spell damage, most notably in his right arm. He often wore a brace during lessons and had limited mobility in the arm, often doing wandwork with his left.
His classes were the most interesting, too. He focused on practical lessons rather than textbooks and essays, and his classes were the ones Harry looked forward to the most. Even though he taught Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Black felt strongly that his approach should be what he called a holistic one, and Harry found himself picking up bits of magical history, charms, ancient runes, and transfiguration during his classes.
Black even occasionally had a guest speaker come to his classes to show off various magical creatures. Mr. Lupin lived in Hogsmeade as well, and he kept a variety of magical creatures and plants that he would bring to Black’s classes for demonstrations. He told everyone in their first class that he was a werewolf, and Harry gathered from his classmates’ gossip that they hadn’t been widely accepted in the wizarding world until recently, and that Professor Black had been instrumental in pushing that legislation through at the Ministry.
It took Harry a further three months to realize that Mr. Lupin and Professor Black were married.
“Is that…normal?” he asked Ron one night while they were up late playing Exploding Snap. “Professor Black and Mr. Lupin?”
“What, living in Hogsmeade? Sure, loads of wix do.”
“No, I mean…them being, you know.” Harry could feel the flush creep up the back of his neck. “Together?”
He couldn’t even say the word married. Men didn’t do that! Not with each other! He could hear Uncle Vernon’s voice in his head right now, calling Professor Black all kinds of horrible names.
“Yes?” Ron frowned at him. “What, Muggles don’t get married?”
“Men don’t. I mean, not to each other.”
“Really? What about women?”
Harry shook his head, and Ron looked shocked.
“Blimey,” he said. “Yeah, Harry, it’s normal.”
“Oh.”
***
Harry reached out a hand and touched the mirror, as though he could feel his parents’ touch beneath his palm.
“Back again, Harry?”
Harry froze, then turned around. Professor Black had been perched on a desk at the back of the room. He slid off it to come sit beside Harry on the floor.
“I - I didn’t see you there, sir.”
“Understandable, given the powerful draw of this mirror. This is the third night you’ve come.”
“How did you know?”
Professor Black pulled a piece of parchment out of his back pocket. He tapped it and murmured, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”
Harry watched as ink bloomed across the parchment, until it showed a blueprint of Hogwarts. There were tiny dots all over the map, all of them labeled with names. He found his own on the map, with Sirius Black written next to his.
“Where did you get this, sir?”
“I made it,” Black said. “I made the first version of the map at Durmstrang, when I was fifteen. I’ve made various others over the years. I created this one when I was hired at Hogwarts. It’s proved quite useful.”
“Do you use it to find students who are out of bed after curfew?”
“Typically, no,” Black said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Far be it from me to get in the way of mischief. Merlin knows I got up to plenty at Durmstrang when I was a student, and I turned out all right. I think everyone deserves the chance to make a few foolish mistakes when they’re young. But I do like to use it to make sure my students are safe.”
“I’m not in danger, sir.”
“Maybe not physical danger.” Black sighed. “Harry…I’m here to tell you that you shouldn’t come back here.”
“But.” Harry swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. To his mortification, his eyes started to sting. “Sir…I’ve never seen my parents before.”
“What?” Black looked at him in surprise. “Never?”
“No. My aunt…didn’t have any pictures. I--I didn’t know what they looked like until I found this mirror.
“Oh,” Black said softly. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
They were silent for a while, until Black finally said, “I lost my family, too.”
“Really?”
Black nodded. “They died in a fire when I was seven. I was sent to live with my Uncle Alphard in France after their deaths. He sent me to Durmstrang, not Hogwarts, although I would have gone here if my family had lived.”
“Did you like it?”
“Oh, I loved it. And I loved my uncle. My parents were…not very kind people. I’ll always think of him as my father.”
“Oh,” Harry said. He couldn’t imagine thinking of Uncle Vernon as his father.
“I take it it’s not the same for you?” Black asked.
Harry snorted, and then covered it with a cough when he realized that was rude. “No.”
They sat in silence for an awkward minute, until Harry asked, “What do you see when you look in the mirror, sir?”
Black was quiet for a moment.
“I see myself,” he said slowly. “I see my husband, standing next to me.”
“Mr. Lupin.”
“Yes. I also see our cottage, and all our animals, and the plants he loves to grow.”
“So you see your life,” Harry said. He couldn’t explain why he felt dejected to hear this. Maybe it was because everyone got to be happy but him. Everyone else had families who loved them. Even Ron, who complained about his parents and his brothers all the time. Harry didn’t know what there was to complain about. His parents fed him and gave him clothes that fit and didn’t make him live in a cupboard, and all his siblings loved him, even if they annoyed each other.
“It took me years to build this life, Harry,” Black said quietly. “I never thought I would have something like this.”
“Do you think it’s strange to miss people I never even knew?”
“No, Harry,” Black said. “I don’t think that’s strange at all. It’s perfectly normal to miss them and…to love them. But I’m afraid you won’t be able to come back here anymore. I’m having the mirror moved tomorrow. The Headmistress will make sure it’s stored somewhere more secure.”
***
Sirius and Remus usually spent Christmas Eve with Remus’s parents, and then Christmas Day and Boxing Day by themselves in the cottage. While Sirius wasn’t religious himself, he appreciated these few days every year where it felt like the whole world came to a halt, and everyone could breathe.
He spent the days between Boxing Day and New Year’s up at the castle, his office open for any students who couldn’t go home for the holidays. He played chess with them, or had tea, or brought some of Remus’s Nifflers for the students to cuddle.
Sirius used his magical map to keep an eye on his students, too, which was how he found out Harry Potter had been sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night to visit the Mirror of Erised.
He didn’t know why McGonagall had the thing in the castle--probably it was a relic of Albus Dumbledore’s time--and had a chat with Harry about how he shouldn’t keep visiting the mirror. He then requested that McGonagall have it removed, so the temptation was no longer there.
But he couldn’t get Harry’s face out of his mind, couldn’t erase the look of grief and longing as Harry stared at the mirror. That was the face of a deeply unhappy child, one who was starved for love and affection.
“I know that look,” Remus said. “What’s bothering you, love?”
“Besides my arm?” Sirius grimaced as he removed the brace. Remus took it from him and set it aside, and then took the jar of salve from Sirius. He began to rub it gently into Sirius’s arm, starting at his shoulder, and Sirius sighed in quiet relief. “It’s one of my students.”
“Causing you problems?”
“No, he’s a good kid. A great kid, actually, but I don’t think he’s got a good home life.”
“I see.” Remus settled next to him on the bench. “You’ve dealt with this before.”
“I know.” Sirius had had a handful of students over the years who had been living in abusive homes, and he had intervened where he could. For some, it meant being a safe person to talk to, and his office being a refuge. For others, he had worked with Madam Pomfrey to gather physical evidence, and had successfully had those students removed from those situations. He still kept in contact with the ones who had graduated.
But this…this was different.
“It’s Harry Potter,” he said quietly, and Remus’s eyes widened.
“Are you certain?”
“It’s textbook, Moony. He’s too small, and I’ll bet all the gold in my vaults it’s from malnutrition. He flinches when I make a sudden movement near him, and I sneaked into the Headmistress’s office last night to look at the ledger. Do you know how his Hogwarts letter was addressed? ‘The cupboard under the stairs, Surrey.’”
“Surrey?” Remus’s brow furrowed. “There aren’t any wix communities in Surrey.”
“No. He’s been living with Muggles all this time,” Sirius said darkly. “His mother’s sister, apparently.”
“His aunt,” Remus breathed. “Her own flesh and blood, and she locked him in a cupboard?”
“The ledger doesn’t lie.”
“What did the Headmistress say?”
Sirius scowled at his feet. “That Dumbledore placed Harry there for his own protection. It was dark magic that saved him that night, blood magic, and he would only be safe with his mother’s family.”
“She won’t remove him,” Remus said, and Sirius shook his head. “So what do you want to do about it?”
Sirius looked at him. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, Padfoot.” Remus gave him a wry smile. “I know that look. I know you. You’re going to do something about it, no matter what the Headmistress says.”
“There are a lot of things I want to do,” Sirius said. “Go to Surrey and blast those Muggles to bits. Go to the papers and create a scandal--the Boy Who Lived being raised by abusive Muggles? There would be an uproar. Go to the Ministry and shout at Fudge. Take Harry and Apparate to Siberia or something.”
“This is getting to you,” Remus said, and Sirius nodded.
“This is…different. He’s different.”
“You’re always teasing me for taking in strays,” Remus said. “It’s nice to be on the other side of that this time.”
Sirius blinked. “What?”
“We’re taking him in, aren’t we?” Remus said. “That’s what this comes down to. There’s plenty of room for him, of course. We could turn the extra study into a bedroom, or add an extension so he has more space. We already know he gets along with the animals, and I’ve seen the two of you interact. He looks up to you, Padfoot. He likes you a lot. He’s comfortable with you.”
“I--” Sirius swallowed. “And you’d be alright with that?”
“We always said we would do it, wouldn’t we? If the opportunity ever presented itself?”
“We did,” Sirius said quietly, and he couldn’t deny that he wanted this. “His aunt and uncle have custody.”
“So we prove that he was maltreated,” Remus said. “We find evidence, and we take it to the Ministry. If word got out that the Boy Who Lived was being raised by abusive Muggles, it would cause a scandal. The Ministry will cave.”
“You seem sure of that.”
“They always do when Lord Black takes up an issue with them,” Remus said, smiling. “Why would this be any different?”
***
“And you have another visitor,” Madam Pomfrey said.
Professor Black settled himself at Harry’s bedside. “How are you feeling, Harry?”
“Fine, sir.”
Black didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t press the issue.
“I have something for you.” Black pulled a handsome, leather-bound book out of his briefcase. “My husband and I have been working on a little project for you. We’ve been able to track down some of your parents’ old friends, and they sent copies of photographs to me. I thought you might like them.”
He laid the book in Harry’s lap, and Harry opened it with trembling fingers. His parents smiled back at him from every page, laughing, waving, dancing. Towards the end of the album, they had a baby with them, a baby with bright green eyes and a shock of dark hair. Harry blinked rapidly to clear his vision, and Black squeezed his shoulder.
“Thank you, Professor,” he whispered.
“There’s something else I wanted to ask you. I was wondering if you’d like to come stay in Hogsmeade with me for the next week,” Professor Black said. “It’d be far more interesting than laying in the Hospital Wing--no offense to Madam Pomfrey.”
“Stay…with you?” Harry repeated slowly.
“Only until you’re recovered enough to go back to your family,” Professor Black said. “I don’t think they’d appreciate Hogwarts sending their nephew back in less than stellar condition, do you?”
They wouldn’t care, Harry thought, but he knew better than to voice that out loud. That was one whole week he wouldn’t have to spend at Privet Drive!
“Yes, sir,” he said, nodding quickly. “I’d like that.”
“Excellent. I’ll write to your aunt and uncle and explain why you won’t be on the train home tomorrow, and that I’ll personally escort you to their house once you’ve recovered.”
***
Professor Black lived in an unassuming cottage at the outskirts of Hogsmeade. It was surrounded by a vast garden that was packed with plants of all sorts. It was the most chaotic garden Harry had ever seen, and he loved it immediately. Aunt Petunia would have hated it.
Mr. Lupin met them at the door, a smile on his face and a Bowtruckle in his shirt pocket.
“Hello, Harry,” he greeted warmly. “I heard all about your little adventure. Come in, let’s get you to bed.”
“I’m all right,” Harry protested, but Mr. Lupin put an arm around his shoulders and steered him to a room at the back of the cottage.
“You’re recovering,” Mr. Lupin said. “You need food and rest. Sirius, where are his things?”
“Right here.” Professor Black followed them into the guest bedroom and pulled Harry’s trunk out of his pocket. With a tap of his wand, he resized it. “The bathroom’s through there, Harry. Why don’t you change into your pajamas and get into bed, and we’ll bring you some food?”
***
Harry woke up sore his first morning in Professor Black’s cottage. He figured that wasn’t all that surprising, considering what he had gone through in the past couple of days, and padded into the bathroom to wash up.
Mr. Lupin and Professor Black were already awake. Professor Black was reading the Prophet while Mr. Lupin brewed some tea, but they both looked up when Harry came into the kitchen.
“How are you feeling, Harry?” Black asked.
“Fine, sir, thank you.”
Black fixed him with a look. “I know when a student is lying to me, Mr. Potter.”
“I mean…I’m a bit sore? But it’s fine, really, it’s normal. Madam Pomfrey said it was.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to be uncomfortable,” Mr. Lupin said gently. “Here, have some eggs, and I’ll get you a mild pain potion.”
“Check the measurements for a child-size dose, Moony,” Black said as Mr. Lupin went over to the pantry.
“Don’t worry, Sirius, I was going to.”
Professor Black put a plate of eggs in front of Harry as he sat at the table. “Eat up, Mr. Potter.”
“What do you like to do for fun, Harry?” Remus asked.
“I like flying,” Harry said, and Professor Black snorted.
“Well, that’s out of the question while you’re recovering.”
***
Sirius woke in the middle of the night to find that Remus had stolen all the blankets. Again.
For a short while he lay there, eyes closed, wondering if his exhaustion was enough to pull him back into sleep even without the blankets. It was not. Sighing, Sirius got up and went in search of another blanket. There were several downstairs; he could steal them from the sitting room.
But the sitting room wasn’t empty, as he had expected. It took him a moment to realize that the silhouette on the couch was Harry, sitting there in the dark with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the empty fireplace.
“Harry?” Sirius whispered, and the boy jumped. “I’m sorry to startle you, but…what are you doing up?”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Harry muttered. “Sorry, I thought I was quiet.”
“No, no, you didn’t wake me. My menace of a husband did, stealing all the blankets from me in the middle of the night.” Sirius gave Harry a small smile. “I came down here looking for extras. Why can’t you sleep?”
He sat next to Harry on the couch. Harry turned his face away.
“Dunno,” he said. “Just…couldn’t.”
“Are you excited to see your family tomorrow?”
Even in the dark, he could see Harry’s grimace. “Not really.”
“Why not?”
“They…” Harry trailed off. “We’re not really close, is all.”
“Are you happy there, Harry?”
Harry lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.”
“But I don’t have anyone else, so…” Harry shrugged again.
***
As promised, Sirius escorted Harry back to Privet Drive once Madam Pomfrey had given him a clean bill of health. Harry was quiet that morning as he packed up his things, quiet as they walked to the Portkey that would land them in a secluded park a few streets away from Privet Drive, quiet as they made their way to Number Four.
“You can write to me,” Sirius said, but Harry shook his head.
“They don’t like it.”
“They can’t keep Hedwig locked up inside all summer. She needs to fly and hunt.”
Harry nodded. “I’m allowed to let her out for that, but she can’t bring me letters all the time. It--they don’t like it, and I don’t want them to hurt her.”
Sirius’s heart ached. “Harry…”
“It’s fine, Professor,” Harry said in a dull voice. “It’s only a few more weeks.”
Seven weeks exactly. Far too long.
“I’ll check on you,” Sirius said.
***
“We don’t really need a guest room, do we?”
Remus gave him a small smile. “You want to give Harry a bedroom.”
“I want to give him a home,” Sirius said quietly.
Remus laid a hand on his shoulder. “Mum and Dad don’t visit that often. We usually go to theirs. I think we can give up the guest room for Harry.”
“Thanks, love.” Sirius scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can’t believe I just…left him there.”
“You didn’t have a choice, Padfoot. Legally, Harry isn’t yours. You can’t kidnap him. We have to do this by the book, especially since gaining custody means he’d be living with a werewolf. Whatever we present to the Ministry has to be airtight.”
“I know,” Sirius said. “I just…remember what it was like for me, with my birth family. Harry’s being mistreated the same way, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Yes, there is. It will take time, but we’ll get him out, Padfoot.”
***
When Hedwig appeared in their kitchen one morning, Sirius nearly tripped in his haste to get to the letter she had brought.
“I thought Harry told you his relatives wouldn’t let him write.”
“He did.” Sirius scanned the hastily-scrawled note. “He’s writing because he’s not at the Dursleys’. He’s at the Weasleys’.”
“What?” Remus came over to peer at the letter. He quickly skimmed it. “He’s staying there for the rest of the summer? Why?”
“No idea.” Sirius stuffed the letter in his back pocket and grabbed his wand off the table, sliding it into its holster. “I’m going to find out.”
“Who all was in the car?”
“Fred, George, Ron,” Mrs Weasley called, and the boys came into the kitchen.
“You three fetched Harry from his relatives’ house?”
“It was my idea, Professor,” Ron said quickly. “They just came along to help.”
“Earning detention before the school year even starts is a new record,” Mrs Weasley said unhappily. “Just wait until your father hears about this.”
“I’m not giving them detention. I’m giving them three hundred points to be awarded to Gryffindor on the first day of classes,” Sirius said. “One hundred points each. That was a very brave thing you did, boys.”
Everyone’s mouths fell open.
“Professor!” Mrs Weasley sputtered. “They could have died, they could have been seen--”
“And they chose to do it anyway,” Sirius said. “Harry was in trouble, and no one else was going to help. They didn’t have to take matters into their own hands, but they did. I have a small request, though: next time, write to me before you steal a flying car and go off on your own.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Fred joked.
“Your dad might have a flying car,” Sirius said, “but I have a flying motorbike.”
Sirius shook Mr. Weasley’s hand. “If the Ministry gives you any trouble over that flying car, let me know, and Lord Black will have a word with them.”
“Harry, a word?”
They stepped out into the garden.
“Harry, they told me that you had bars on your window.”
“It’s fine--”
“No,” Sirius said sharply, and Harry looked at him with wide eyes. “No, Harry, enough. Stop trying to downplay this. They put bars on your window. Your friends had to use a car to pull them off. What else did they do to you this summer?”
***
Sirius’s arm was aching fiercely by the time he got home. There was never any rhyme or reason to it--sometimes he woke up with it hurting; sometimes it pained him after a long day of classes; other times, it ached even when he had used it minimally, like today. He removed the brace and used the salve Remus made for him, though that only dulled the pain a little.
Remus found him out in the garden, smoking.
“How bad was it?”
“They locked him in his bedroom, they put bars on his windows, and they fed him through a cat flap in the door. Hedwig wasn’t allowed to leave, either, and Harry was giving her half his food so she wouldn’t starve.” Sirius rubbed his face, and was startled when his fingers came away wet. “He’s such a good kid, Moony. He doesn’t deserve any of that.”
***
“Spit it out, son.”
Sirius blinked at his father-in-law. “Sorry?”
“You haven’t looked that queasy since you came to ask us for permission to marry Remus,” Lyall said. “What’s on your mind now?”
“Well.” Sirius glanced at Remus, who gave him a small smile and a nod. Sirius took his hand. “We’re…trying to adopt a kid.”
Hope’s hands flew to her mouth, while Lyall stared at them in shock.
“A baby?” he demanded.
“No,” Sirius said. “One of my students, actually. He’s eleven, so definitely not a baby but not quite a teen. He’s had a rough home life, and we…connected.”
“He was injured in the incident at the end of the school year, and he came to stay with us for a week while he recovered before he had to go back to his Muggle relatives,” Remus said.
“Harry Potter,” Lyall said flatly. “You’re talking about Harry Potter.”
“Yes,” Sirius said.
“He doesn’t have a good home life?”
“His relatives are neglectful at least, abusive at worst,” Remus said. “We’re trying to gather evidence so we can present it to the Ministry and have Harry taken from them.”
“And placed with us,” Sirius added. “He’s such a good kid. I think you’d both love him.”
“I’m sure we will,” Hope said. “What can we do to help?”
***
Of course there was a Basilisk in this school.
Of fucking course.
Sirius had raised hell after the first student had been paralyzed, demanding that they shut down the school entirely and send all the students home. He had been overruled, and even throwing his weight around at the Ministry hadn’t helped. So he had gritted his teeth and done his best to comfort the parents of the paralyzed children, and sat at their bedsides and read to them in case they could hear him and it brought them some comfort.
And of course, the whole thing ended because of Harry. Because he had gone and shoved a sword right into the Basilisk’s mouth, killing it but also sustaining serious injuries in the process. Sirius was livid, but the one good thing that came out of it was that it allowed Poppy to do the comprehensive medical scan he had wanted from the start.
“I did the scan that you asked for,” Poppy said.
“How bad?” Sirius asked, heart pounding.
“I can’t discuss the specifics with you, as you aren’t his legal guardian,” Poppy said. “But…it’s enough.”
“Enough evidence?” Sirius demanded. “I can take it to the Ministry?”
“I’ve already sent them my report,” Poppy said. “I expect we’ll be hearing from the child welfare department in a matter of hours. Are you--”
“Yes,” Sirius breathed. “Yes, we’re ready. We’ve got a room for him and everything. If he agrees, we can move him in immediately.”
“I think you should speak to him before the Ministry officials do.”
***
“Harry, Madam Pomfrey did a medical scan while you were unconscious. She had to, to make sure you’re okay after that Basilisk attack. It’s standard procedure. But…the scan is comprehensive. It can reveal a lot about a person, including old injuries.”
Harry tensed. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Madam Pomfrey believes that the scan shows that your relatives abused you, Harry,” Sirius said. “That’s what your injuries seem to indicate. She’s required to report suspected abuse to the child welfare department at the Ministry. They’ll conduct an investigation, and if it’s determined that you live in an unfit home, a new one will be found for you.”
“I’m fine,” Harry insisted. “I don’t need--”
“Harry,” Sirius interrupted. “You do need someone to intervene. You deserve to have someone looking out for you, since your relatives certainly aren’t doing it. I know that the Ministry investigation is going to find them unfit. There will likely be charges pressed against them, as they deserve. As for finding you a new home…I was wondering if you would like to come live with me.”
“With…you.”
“And Remus, of course,” Sirius said, attempting a small smile. “We’ve grown very fond of you Harry, I hope you know that already.”
“And you can just…do that?” Harry looked a little dazed. “I don’t have to go back to them?”
“No,” Sirius said. “Say the word, Harry, and I’ll take you home tonight. Home to the cottage. We’ve fixed up the guest room so it’s yours. We’ll look out for you, Harry. It would be our honor.”
“Why?” Harry demanded. “Why would you want…”
“Because I care very much for you, Harry,” Sirius said. “You’re an incredible boy. You deserve to have a home where you are loved, and I want to give that to you.”
“I don’t have to go back?” Harry asked again, and he hated how his voice cracked. “Not ever?”
“Never,” Sirius said firmly. “You never have to go back there. I’ll even go pick up your things for you, so you don’t have to see your relatives.”
***
Professor Black hired a carriage to take them from the Hogwarts grounds to his cottage on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. When they arrived, he helped Harry out of the carriage, and then kept a hand on his elbow as they walked up the stone path. Last year, they had walked the whole way from the castle, but this time Harry was too weak for it. When he stumbled, Black caught him.
“Easy,” he said gently. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Harry said breathlessly, embarrassed. “Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about. Come on.”
The front door to the cottage swung open, and Mr. Lupin stepped out, cane in hand and a bright smile on his face. “Hello, Harry.”
“Moony!” Harry pulled away from Professor Black to throw himself at Mr. Lupin, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist and hugging him tightly. “Hi.”
Mr. Lupin hugged Harry with one arm and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair with the other hand. “Welcome home, Harry. We’ve got you in your old room. Let’s get you settled.”
“My room?” Harry asked as Moony steered him into the cottage, Professor Black behind them.
“Of course. We don’t really need a guest room. It’s far more important that you have a room of your own. We’ve left it the same as it was last summer, and you can decorate it however you like. But all of that is a discussion for another day. For now, you need to rest.”
The room was indeed the same--the blue comforter, the desk, the bookshelf and books. They had added a few pictures to the walls--Harry and his parents, duplicates of the ones Harry had in his photo album.
Tears stung Harry’s eyes. He tried to blink them away, but it was no use.
Warm arms wrapped around him, and Harry leaned into Sirius.
“Thank you,” he mumbled against Sirius’s shirt.
“There’s no need to thank us, love,” Sirius said. “We’re so happy to have you here.”
“You really do need to go to bed, though,” Moony said. “You were seriously hurt this year, Harry. You’ve got a lot of healing to do.”
“Here, we’ve got pajamas for you,” Sirius said, handing Harry some soft pajamas that were patterned with Snitches. “Let’s get you settled.”
***
“Thank you for breakfast, Professor.”
“You can call me Sirius, Harry.”
“Oh.” Harry bit his lip, turning that over in his mind. “That’s a bit weird, sir.”
“You do still call Minerva ‘Professor McGonagall’ and you’ve known her for seven years,” Lupin--Remus chided his husband. “Give Harry some time to adjust.”
“Maybe a nickname, then,” Professor Black said. “Remus calls me Padfoot.”
Harry tilted his head. “Why?”
“Sirius, don’t--” Remus started, but it was too late. Professor Black took a step back, and before Harry could comprehend what was happening, turned into a giant black dog.
“You’re an Animagus!” Harry said after a moment of shock. “That’s brilliant!”
“He’s unregistered, Harry,” Remus said, scratching the black dog behind the ears. “You’ll have to keep this a secret.”
“I can do that,” Harry said. He reached out and sank his fingers into Sirius’s fur. “Hi, Padfoot.”
Padfoot barked and licked his hand.
***
Hope and Lyall jumped feet first into their new roles as grandparents. They came over one Saturday to meet Harry, and brought what felt like half the contents of their cottage. They brought clothes that Remus had worn as a teen, which could be magically fitted to fit Harry. They also brought books, puzzles, games, and Remus’s old bicycle. Harry seemed overwhelmed at all the gifts, as well as by the attention Hope and Lyall showered on him.
“Why don’t you go upstairs after lunch?” Sirius murmured to him at one point. “Say you’re going to put your new belongings away, and you can probably take an hour or two to yourself before they notice you’re gone. We’ll keep them occupied.”
Harry gave him a relieved smile. “Thanks, Sirius. It’s not--I really am grateful--”
“I know,” Sirius said. “It’s just a lot, isn’t it?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah.”
Sirius clasped the back of his neck. “I get it. Take a break for a bit, and then come back down for a game of chess. I know Lyall is dying to play with you.”
***
“What did your parents teach you?”
“Loads of things, Sirius.” Remus gave him a bemused look. “Everything I was at eleven was because of them.”
“No, I know, I mean--” Sirius broke off. “There are things that parents teach their kids, right? Normal parents, I mean. Things you’re supposed to learn from them.”
“Oh, I see.” Remus gave him a fond smile. “Da taught me how to fly, or he tried. Mum showed me how to garden. I learned how to read from them, how to swim, how to ride a bicycle.”
“Obviously, Harry knows how to read, but swimming and riding a bicycle…” Sirius trailed off, scribbling notes on a piece of parchment. “Oh! I should also show that boy how to actually write with a quill, his handwriting on his essays is atrocious.”
***
“What do you want for your birthday, Harry?”
“My birthday?”
“It’s next week, isn’t it?” Sirius checked the calendar hanging in the kitchen, worried he’d got the date wrong.
“Yeah, but…” Harry shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, would you like a party?” Sirius asked. “Or to go somewhere? One of those Muggle amusement parks? The zoo?”
“I…” Harry twisted his hands in the hem of his shirt. “I don’t know.”
“What do you normally do for your birthday? Surely your relatives…” Sirius trailed off as the expression on Harry’s face grew pinched. “They didn’t do anything for it, did they?”
“Sure they did,” Harry said, his voice surprisingly bitter. “They gave me Dudley’s old socks.”
“Oh, Harry.” Sirius hated the Dursleys. “Okay, so you’ve never had a proper birthday before. Remus and I intend to give you one. Do you want to think about what that might look like? We can go on a trip, we can go to London, you can have some friends over for a party…anything you want, really. Maybe we can talk about this again tomorrow, when you’ve had time to think?”
“Okay,” Harry said, brightening a little. “You mean it?”
“Yes, I absolutely mean it. We’re celebrating your birthday no matter what. How you want to do that is up to you.”
***
Sirius stopped by Harry’s room after Harry had changed into his pajamas, brushed his teeth, and climbed into bed. It was a nightly ritual--no matter what, Sirius stopped by Harry’s room to say goodnight. Even if it was well past midnight and Harry was asleep, Sirius always whispered goodnight to him. He would do it for Harry as long as Harry was under his roof.
“Did you have a good day with Moony today?” he asked, pulling the covers up to Harry’s shoulders and smoothing a hand over them.
“Yeah, we had so much fun,” Harry murmured, and Remus really must have worn him out, because his eyelids were already drooping. “Missed you, though.”
“I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Sirius ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. “Thankfully, it won’t happen often.”
“Did you tell me you loved me?”
“I did,” Sirius said.
“Did you mean it?”
“Of course I did, Harry.”
“Okay.” Harry twisted his hands in the hem of his t-shirt.
***
“What do you think about Spain, Harry?” Sirius asked.
“Er…what?”
“Or Italy? Or Greece?” Sirius was looking at him expectantly.
“I think…they sound nice?” Harry said.
“India’s an option, too, though that journey takes five different Portkeys,” Sirius mused.
It dawned on Harry then that Sirius was trying to select a place for a holiday. “Um…Hermione’s parents took her to Japan last summer. She really liked it.”
“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Sirius said. “That’s a longer journey than India, so I think we’d take a Muggle aeroplane instead of trying to travel by magic. Moony! What do you think of Japan?”
“I think that sounds lovely,” Remus called back.
“Japan it is,” Sirius said, scribbling some notes on his parchment. “How does three weeks sound?”
“Brilliant,” Harry said, even though his heart sank. He was glad Sirius and Remus were taking a holiday--they deserved it, after all--but he didn’t like the thought of being left behind for three weeks. He told himself firmly to stop being a baby about it. They had done more than enough for him already. He could survive without them. “Um…would I be staying with someone, then? Or I could write to Ron, see if the Weasleys would be okay with me staying with them?”
“What?” Sirius blinked up at him. “You…don’t want to come?”
“I--” Harry hesitated. “I didn’t think I was invited?”
“Of course you’re invited! Why would we go on holiday without you?”
“Just…the Dursleys always did.” Harry shrugged. “I’ve never been anywhere.”
“Harry, this is a family holiday. That means it’s for all three of us.” Sirius patted the seat next to him, and Harry sat down. “What happened when the Dursleys went on holiday?”
“Er, they left me with a neighbor. Mrs. Figg.”
“Did she take care of you?”
“She fed me, and I got to stay in the guest bedroom.” That had certainly been an improvement over his cupboard. “She had lots of cats.”
Sirius looked unimpressed. “Well, from now on, we’re taking a family holiday at least twice a year, and you’re coming with us every time. You can help me plan this one, how does that sound?”
***
“How did you meet Moony?”
“We met after the war,” Sirius said, settling next to Harry on the rock. “That last night--the night your parents died, the night Voldemort was finally defeated--fighting had broken out all over the continent. I was caught up in skirmishes in Belgium, in France, in Germany…I finally ended up just outside of London, and that’s when I got hit with some dark magic. I was lucky enough to be rescued and sent to St. Mungo’s right away. Remus had been with one of the packs in Scotland, and he’d also been injured. We ended up on the same ward.”
“So you met in hospital,” Harry said, and Sirius nodded.
“I didn’t wake up for, oh, a week or so. And after that, it was clear that my recovery was going to take a long time. I slowly became more mobile, more aware of my surroundings. The few times I was able to get out of bed, I met some of the other patients, but there was only one who truly captivated me.”
“Moony,” Harry said, and Sirius smiled.
“He didn’t like me at first, though. Called me a posh git.”
“And I was right.” Remus had come up behind them, and he sat on Harry’s other side. “He won me over, though. Even when he was stuffed full of painkillers and healing potions, he managed to be quite charming.”
“Moony was released first, but to my surprise, he kept coming back to visit me,” Sirius said. “We had our first date the day I was released.”
“We ate takeaway in the sitting room of Sirius’s flat and he fell asleep by six,” Remus said. “But I knew then that I wanted to spend my life with him.”
***
“Sirius?”
“Yes, Harry?”
Harry was poking at his pancake. Usually he inhaled his breakfast, so Sirius set down his mug and gave Harry his full attention.
“You know how you and Remus got those photographs of my parents?” When Sirius nodded, Harry took a deep breath. “I was wondering…the people you got them from. D’you think I could meet them? And maybe they could tell me about my parents?”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea,” Sirius said, chest aching. Mentally, he kicked himself for not having thought of it before. “We’ll write to them this afternoon, how does that sound?”
“Do you think they’ll want to meet me?”
“I don’t see why not. They were so excited to share the pictures when Remus and I wrote to them. I think they’d be delighted to meet you and tell you about James and Lily.”
***
Harry spent the afternoon at the Weasleys’, and Sirius picked him up before dinner.
“Did you have a good time?” he asked, and was rewarded with one of Harry’s brilliant smiles and a twenty-minute rundown of the afternoon. He loved how talkative Harry could be, a welcome change from the quiet child who had started Hogwarts almost two years ago.
It was two kilometers to the cottage from the portkey station. Sirius took Harry’s hand as they walked.
“We’ve got a surprise for you at home,” he said. “Do you remember those old friends of your parents? The ones who gave us the photographs? They answered our letters, and they’ve come to visit.”
“Really?” Harry stopped dead in his tracks. “Are you joking?”
“Not at all,” Sirius said. “Their names are Mary, Marlene, and Dorcas, and they’re very excited to see you.”
Harry practically dragged him the rest of the way home.
“Moony!” he shouted as he burst into the cottage. “Sirius told me about the surprise!”
“I had a feeling he would,” Remus said, smiling. “Come meet our guests.”
Marlene McKinnon was a grizzled Auror, well into her sixties, with a knotted scar that ran down her cheek and tugged at the corner of her mouth. Mary MacDonald, a plump woman who appeared about their age, was seated next to her, and she offered Harry a sunny smile. Dorcas Meadows was in her forties, and missing her left arm from just below her shoulder. She held out her hand and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry.”
Marlene and Mary echoed her sentiments. Harry stood in the middle of the sitting room, looking a little dazed. Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder.
“How about we sit?” he said. “Moony’s made us all tea, and he picked up some cake from the shops.”
Cake and tea were distributed, and Harry sat in an armchair facing the three women.
“What would you like to know, Harry?” Mary asked him.
“Everything,” Harry said. “I--I don’t know where to start.”
“Harry knows very little about his parents,” Sirius said. “His aunt and uncle…weren’t kind people. Harry only knew his parents’ names up until this year, when he finally saw pictures of them for the first time.”
“That’s awful,” Mary said. “I’m so sorry, Harry. You deserved to grow up hearing about them.”
“Um…how did you know my parents?”
“James and I were Aurors during the war,” Marlene said. “I was his mentor. He finished his training by the time he was twenty, a remarkable feat.”
“I was roommates with your mum at school,” Mary said.
“And I--” Dorcas paused, and then looked at her companions. “I don’t know if we’re allowed to say.”
“We were all in a secret organization together, too,” Marlene said after a moment. “One put together by Albus Dumbledore. We had all sorts in our ranks--Aurors, teachers, homemakers. Anyone who was able and willing to fight Voldemort and his followers, outside of the Ministry’s purview. That’s how Dorcas met your parents.”
“You were vigilantes,” Sirius said, and Marlene inclined her head.
“Our casualty rate was horrific,” she said grimly. “We’re three of only five survivors.”
Remus sucked in a breath. “That’s awful.”
“But we’re here to talk about more pleasant things,” Mary said firmly. “Harry, your mother was one of my best friends. She was a brilliant witch, at the top of her class. James was besotted with her from the moment they met, but she didn’t even give him the time of day until our sixth year.”
“He cried at their wedding,” Dorcas said, and the other two women nodded. “Could barely get through his vows, the sap.”
“You were a surprise,” Marlene said.
“Marlene! You can’t tell him that!”
“Well, he was,” Marlene said. “But they were so excited to become parents. It was all your dad could talk about once they found out, honestly. I think he had the nursery put together in about two days, and then spent the next seven months anxious to meet you.”
“They wanted to have you at St. Mungo’s, but you came too quickly for that,” Dorcas said. “Your mum gave birth on their bathroom floor with your dad and a Healer there.”
“Trouble from the start, eh?” Sirius said, reaching over to ruffle Harry’s hair. Harry giggled.
The women spent the rest of the afternoon at the cottage, telling Harry different memories they had of his parents. Remus thankfully had thought to charm a quill to take notes as the women talked, so Harry could look back on them later. It was a lot of information to receive at once.
When they had gone, Harry looked at Remus and Sirius, and promptly dissolved into tears.
“Oh, honey.” Sirius squeezed into the armchair and wrapped Harry in his arms. “That was a lot, wasn’t it?”
“They really loved me,” Harry sniffled. “And I don’t remember anything.”
“I know,” Sirius said softly. He ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. “It’s not fair. You deserved to know your parents.”
“But you know something?” Remus knelt by the armchair and laid a hand on Harry’s cheek. “We love you, and we’re going to take care of you the way your parents would have wanted someone to.”
***
“I found something at school you might find interesting.” Sirius patted the cushion next to him, and Harry sat down. “These are old detention slips. You know whose they are?”
“Who?”
“Your dad’s,” Sirius said, biting back a smile, and Harry’s eyes widened.
“All of them?”
“All of them,” Sirius confirmed. “I counted, and your dad served 167 detentions at Hogwarts.”
Harry’s mouth fell open, and then he seemed to shrink a little. “So…he was a bad kid.”
“No!” Sirius said quickly. “No, Harry, he wasn’t. You remember his friends’ stories, don’t you? He was good and brave and brilliant. He just got up to a lot of mischief. Here, look at this one.”
They spent the rest of the evening laughing over James’s antics
***
“What’s on your mind, love?” Remus ran his fingers through Sirius’s hair. “You’ve been quiet today.”
“Yeah.” Sirius closed his eyes. “I think I’m missing someone I never even knew.”
“James Potter?”
Remus was far too perceptive. “I’m sorry we never knew each other. The more I learn about him, the more I like him. In another life, I think we would have been good mates.”
“I think so, too,” Remus said. “I can just imagine the mischief and mayhem you would have caused with James Potter at your side.”
***
Harry knelt before his parents’ graves, tracing their names with his fingers.
“Twenty-one,” he murmured, and then he looked around at Sirius and Remus. “That’s only eight years older than me.”
“They were really young,” Sirius agreed, sitting down next to Harry. “It was a different time. War pushes you to do things quickly: get married, start a family, live your life. When you don’t know how much time you have left…”
He trailed off. Harry continued to trace the names.
“Marlene said that I was an accident,” he said finally. “Do you think they regretted it?”
“No,” Sirius said firmly. “Your mother’s love was so powerful, it saved your life. In no way did they regret you.”
***
“Harry, how would you feel about seeing Remus more often at Hogwarts this year?”
“I think it’d be brilliant,” Harry said enthusiastically. “Will he come to your classes more?”
“Not exactly,” Remus said, and he was smiling softly. “Professor Dumbledore has actually asked me to teach some classes of my own. He’d like me to be the new Care of Magical Creatures professor.”
“Really?” Harry’s eyes were wide. “You said yes, right?”
“I haven’t told him anything yet. We wanted to talk to you about it first.”
Harry frowned. “Why?”
“Well, I don’t think most kids would like having their…guardians teaching at the same school they attended,” Sirius said.
“I would,” Harry said.