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Chapter Text

"Alright, class," Mrs. Riley said. "Like I said yesterday, since summer term is nearly over, we'll celebrate the summer birthdays today. If you have any cards for our summer birthday children, please go ahead and deliver them." 

The know-it-all who'd transferred into the class a few months before dropped cards off with Benny, Muhammed, Annie, and Sunita, then, to Harry's surprise, approached him, too. 

"Happy Birthday, Harry," she said. "Well, early birthday. I'm Hermione. You can open this now if you want."

Out of the corner of Harry's eye, he saw Dudley's pig-like visage darken. Harry had never gotten a birthday card before, but no card was worth seeing this girl hurt on his account. 

"Keep your stupid card." Harry pointedly turned away from her. "I don't want it."

He heard her sniffle and her footsteps shuffle off. Mrs. Riley was glaring at him, but she believed everything his aunt and uncle said about him being a delinquent, anyway, so it wasn't like she could like him any less because of this. 

Still, he had to do something to make it up to the girl. But what?

Harry pondered that for the rest of the class period. Girls were complicated and scary and he didn't want to make anything worse. 

Hermione was packing up her books for the day, meticulously as always, when a piece of paper fluttered down onto the last one still on her desk. She looked up to see who'd dropped it, but the other children were mostly out of the room at that point and it could have been any of them. 

She knew she probably shouldn't read something that belonged to someone else, but her curiosity was a force of nature and would not be denied. Scrawled on it in some of the worst penmanship she'd ever seen was a note…to her! No one had ever slipped her a note before. 

"I'm sorry about what I said about your card. My cousin Dudley was glaring at you and would have beaten you up if I'd accepted your card, so I had to pretend like I didn't want it. I really did, though. Nobody has ever gotten me a birthday card before because Dudley beats up anyone who tries to be my friend. -Harry"

Hermione folded the note and carefully placed it in her pocket. She had far more emotions swirling around in her head right then than she was comfortable with, so she wanted to wait and think about it for awhile before doing anything.

Leaving class late enough to drop Hermione a note had nearly gotten Harry caught by Dudley and his gang of Harry-hunters, so Harry made sure he was one of the first kids out the next day. He walked quickly home, almost-but-not-quite jogging, and had quite a lead built up when Dudley and his gang finally came around the corner behind him. That was his cue to run, but a Mercedes sedan of the sort Uncle Vernon drooled over pulled up next to him just then and a friendly-looking woman with bushy hair tied back into a loose braid leaned out of the driver's window. 

"Happy early birthday, Harry!" she said. "Would you like a ride?"

Harry had seen all of the videos at school about the dangers of getting in a car with someone you didn't know. He had also received firsthand instruction in the dangers of being caught by Dudley, so he jumped into the car without hesitation.

"Thank you, Ma'am," he said as he scrambled into the back seat. To his surprise, Hermione was also there. 

"I tried to catch you before you left school," she said, "but you ran out too quickly today. Mother said she'd be happy to give you a ride."

"Just staying ahead of Dudley," Harry replied. "He nearly got me yesterday."

"Well," Hermione's mother said, "I think I can keep you ahead of those hooligans. Would you like to come over to our house for dinner tonight?"

"I really would, ma'am," Harry said, "but I need to go home and make dinner."

"You help your mother make dinner at your age?" Hermione's mother asked. 

"No, I make dinner for my aunt, uncle, and Dudley," Harry said. "My aunt said my mother and father died in a drunken car wreck and I was lucky they let me eat the leftovers after I cook for them."

Hermione and her mother both gasped, a sound so similar Harry got a sense of stereo sound from it.

"Well, then," Hermione's mother said, "we won't keep you long." She sounded angry, and Harry hoped it wasn't at him.

Hermione had never had a friend over to her house before, but she didn't think it was supposed to go quite the way it was. Her mother kept asking Harry all of these odd questions about Harry's home life, and his answers were just as odd. She'd heard of children sharing bedrooms, of course, because she knew not everyone was as well-off as they were, but she'd never heard of anyone sleeping in a cupboard before. And Harry was so hungry! He ate two whole ham and watercress and cream cheese sandwiches. 

After an hour, he said he had to go and her mother volunteered to take him home. First, though, she disappeared to make a phone call and looked scary when she returned, like that time a dog had chased her and her mother scared it off. 

"Come now, Harry," her mother had said. "I'm going to take you home, but there's somewhere we need to stop along the way."

A single shake of her head warned Hermione off from asking to go with them. Hermione was scared, but she knew her mother would keep Harry safe. 

"Aunt Petunia?" Harry pushed open the front door and tried not to let his fear show in his voice. "I'm home!"

"It's about time, Freak!" she shouted from the couch where she was watching EastEnders. "You should have started dinner ten minutes ago. You'll be lucky if we let you eat crumbs tonight."

He took a deep breath and tried to say it exactly right. "I don't think I'll be able to make dinner tonight."

"You'd better, you little freak, or I'll knock some sense back into you with the frying pan," Petunia said. 

Harry stepped back from the doorway and a much larger shadow loomed through it. "Petunia Evans Dursley?" 

Petunia looked up to see a pair of police officers step into the room and leapt to her feet. "Eep! Yes, officers? How can I help you?"

"You can answer our questions, Mrs. Dursley," Officer Roberts said. "This will be easier if you answer them truthfully, but we have enough on tape from you just now that we can do this the hard way, too."

"I do hope she chooses the hard way," Officer Singh said. His voice was soft, almost wistful. "She'll go away so much longer if she chooses the hard way."

"Now, now, Officer Singh," Officer Roberts said. "We have to at least give her the opportunity to co-operate with us before we take her in."

Petunia gulped audibly. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell us everything, Mrs. Dursley," Officer Roberts said. " Everything ."

Hermione's father wore a dark expression when he came home from the office that evening. He made Hermione a quick snack and explained they'd be eating a late dinner. He used the fancy cheese with crackers, though, so she didn't mind. Port Salut was yummy. 

While they ate, her father asked her, "Would you mind having a classmate stay with us for awhile?" 

"I don't know if that would work out," she said sadly. "I don't really get along with any of them except maybe for Harry, and I don't know him very well."

"Would you be willing to give it a try, though?" her father asked. "His aunt and uncle were…hurting him, and he needs a place to stay."

"Oh, no!" she said. "Of course! I can't let them hurt him. He saved me from being hurt by his cousin just yesterday."

"That's very kind of you," her father said. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it. I'd better get started on the spag bol now, though. Will you help me?"

They were just putting dinner on the table when her mother arrived home with a shell-shocked Harry and a small suitcase. 

"Where are his things?" her father asked. 

"This is it," her mother replied. 

Her father said a naughty word. 

"Language, Daddy!" Hermione said.

"When you're older, dear," her mother said, "you learn there is a time and a place for such language. This is one of those times." 

Harry ate easily twice as much spag bol that night as Hermione did even after he'd eaten those sandwiches. Did all boys eat this much?

Afterward, when they showed him the guest room, he started crying, and he flinched when Hermione tried to hug him. 

When he said no one had ever hugged him before, the rest of them started crying, too. 

The next day, Mrs. Riley noticed Dudley was absent and asked Harry where he was. 

"He's in a juvenile detention fass…um…"

" Facility ," Hermione hissed. 

"Facility," Harry finished. "The police said he and my aunt and uncle were doing bad things to me and took them away."

"Balderdash!" Mrs. Riley said. "What lies have you been telling the police about those fine, upstanding citizens? I'll go down there right now and set them straight, and when I'm done they won't let you out of the facility till you're at least twenty-one."

Harry started crying again in sheer terror and Hermione's patience snapped . "My mum was with them and saw and heard everything," she said. "Are you going to call her a liar, too?"

"That'll be detention for lying to me." Mrs. Riley glared daggers at her. 

Normally, the thought of getting her first detention would have had Hermione in tears, but all she said was, "I'll need a second detention then, Mrs. Riley."

"Will you now?" Mrs. Riley asked her.

"Yes, because I'm going to call you an awful woman who bent over backwards to be nice to child abusers while ignoring what my mum called your mandatory reporting duties." Hermione smiled brightly. "Would you like me to write that down on the detention slip for you?"

A month or so later, once her parents had temporary custody of Harry established, they moved to Crawley. They couldn't bear to leave Hermione and Harry in the care of a school that had failed them so badly, and it wasn't like any of them had any friends there to miss. 

The day they moved away from Surrey was the day a spinning instrument in an old Scottish castle finally ground to a halt. 

Harry's disappearance was supposed to be a secret, of course, but secrets and ale could not long coexist in Rubeus Hagrid and soon the rumours spread like wildfire. After a few weeks, the loss of the Boy-Who-Lived was a hot topic of discussion even among the guards of Azkaban. 

Most of the inmates who overheard it cheered the news, but in one man it reignited a flame the Dementors had quenched years before. 

Harry needed help, and no mere inescapable prison would stand between Sirius Black and his godson. 

Pandora Lovegood still had about as much situational awareness as Sirius remembered her having in school, which was to say none at all. As he dashed away from her and her daughter on the forest path with her wand hanging loosely in his Grim-form's jaws, he made a mental note to send her an apology. Anonymously, of course. 

The goblins, as usual, couldn't be arsed to care about who had broken what Wizarding laws and were happy to do business with him…for a modest fee, of course. He got a better-fitting wand and a few thousand galleons from the Black Vault, had the goblins ship poor Pandora her wand back along with a dozen galleons and some flowers, and converted the same amount to muggle pounds. 

Sirius didn't know much about muggle England, but some of those tee-vee shows Lily had shown them gave him an idea about who might. 

The private detective would absolutely have turned him in for the reward, but a quick Confundus Charm helped overcome that temptation and the man went to work looking for traces of Petunia Evans. What a dozen wizards—several of whom bore fading snake marks on their arms—couldn't figure out in months, the detective figured out in mere weeks. 

After that, it was a simple matter to Confundus a secretary at Harry's old primary school into telling him where Harry's records had been sent. Sirius gave the man an additional suggestion to burn that information…no sense in letting anyone else follow this particular trail. After learning what had befallen the Dursleys and why , Sirius didn't trust anyone but himself with Harry's wellbeing anymore. 

The man shifted back into a Grim and began the long walk to Crawley. 

Chapter Text

The path next to the forest took Harry and Hermione a few minutes longer to get to and from school, but it allowed them to avoid a couple of larger roadways and the forest was beautiful. They liked to pretend all kinds of magical animals lived there, and sometimes Harry even thought he saw a wolf slinking through the underbrush. 

Hermione insisted there hadn't been wolves in England for centuries, but Harry sometimes wondered if she retreated to the authority of books whenever she got scared of something. As he got to know her, he'd learnt weird things happened around her, too, but she always insisted there was a perfectly rational explanation for them. 

She insisted so loudly sometimes that Harry knew she was lying, but he didn't press on the matter. If his best friend didn't want to think about something, he wasn't going to make her. There were certainly things she didn't make him think about. 

Lots of things, actually. He still couldn't bring himself to talk to Dudley Mitchum at school, and this Dudley was a bubbly little learning-disabled boy who cried when anyone killed a fly. 

Whatever he and Hermione had been chatting about lost all of its importance when the dog stepped out onto the path in front of them. Its nose was twitching wildly and, even though it was gaunt and mangy, it was still easily three stone in weight. 

That might not have been that big a dog for a grown-up, but Harry and Hermione were barely four stone themselves and it seemed quite a lot for them to handle. Harry immediately stepped in front of Hermione, but before it took more than another two steps closer it froze.

A low growl came from behind Hermione, the sort of sound that started in your bones and worked its way into the pit of your stomach. The dog in front of them fled into the bushes, yelping in terror.

Harry and Hermione turned slowly around to find themselves nearly face-to-face with the largest wolfhound they'd ever seen, even on the telly. It was looking down at them and easily outweighed them both together. 

Fortunately, it was also wagging its tail and panting happily at them. 

"Thanks, boy!" Harry held out a hand for the dog to sniff, using the motion as an excuse to put himself between Hermione and the dog again. 

The dog wagged its tail and licked Harry's hand.  

"Do you have a name?" Harry looked around its neck but saw no collar. Its fur was matted in places and it looked thin for its size, so he assumed it was a stray. 

The dog nodded its head and barked, " Arf -arf."

"Be careful!" Hermione said from her vantage point behind Harry. 

Harry nodded. "You do have a name, don't you, boy? And…I know it. I don't know why, but are you Pafoo?"

The dog whined and began licking Harry's face.

"That's silly," Hermione said. "It would probably react that way to any name." She leaned around Harry's shoulder to look at the dog. "Are you Rover?"

The dog shook his head at her and went back to licking Harry. 

"Um…Buddy?"

The dog didn't even bother reacting.

"What about Sadie? You might be a girl."

The dog looked at Hermione and growled softly, prompting her to take an immediate step back.

"That's not nice, Pafoo," Harry said.

The dog whined.

"I think he's sorry," Harry told Hermione. 

"He is?" Hermione asked. 

Pafoo barked happily.

"Huh." Hermione stared at it. "That's a really smart dog."

"She's speechless, Pafoo!" Harry said. "I've never seen her like this before. Good boy!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Very funny."

"I certainly thought so," Harry said. 

Pafoo barked happily again.

"And so does Pafoo."

Hermione fixed Harry with a stare. "You're ganging up on me with a dog ."

"A very good dog." Harry pulled off his backpack. "He looks hungry. I'm going to give him my sandwich."

"But you need your sandwich, too," Hermione said. "Remember what the doctor said."

The dog whined.

"See?" Hermione asked. "Pafoo is worried about you, too."

"Wait, now you're ganging up on me with the dog?" Harry asked. 

Hermione smirked. "What's good for the goose…" 

"Wait, so I'm the goose?" Harry asked.

"No, though you are a silly one," Hermione said. "The gander is the male, which makes the old phrase work perfectly."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Anyway, you're right. I'll give him half of my sandwich now and buy some dog treats for him later with my pocket money."

"Make sure they're good, meaty treats," Hermione said. "The biscuits will just rot his teeth."

"Fine, fine," Harry said. "Once I fatten him back up, then I can get him biscuits."

"Honestly, Harry, he doesn't need biscuits."

"And you don't need Pixie Stix, but I've seen how you look while you're eating them."

She blushed. "They're really good. You won't tell Mum and Dad, right?" 

"Of course not! Pirates' honour."

"You still aren't a pirate."

Harry struck a pose with one hand up in the air and one leg up as if he were standing on something that, to an eight-year-old boy, probably looked heroic. "I am absolutely a pirate."

Pafoo licked his arm and wagged his tail happily.

"Boys." Hermione rolled her eyes.

Chapter Text

From that day on, Pafoo walked with them on the path each day to and from school. Even Hermione grew accustomed to his presence and willingly walked with him on the rare days Harry had a doctor's appointment or some such. 

Each passing day also seemed to bring a little more pain to the scar on Harry's forehead, though. Several of those doctor's appointments were to try to deal with the scar, but nothing worked. Harry took children's ibuprofen, though, and soldiered on. 

A storm blew in on May Day that year, worse than anything they'd seen since the Great Storm of 1987. The pain in Harry's head seemed to increase with each stroke of lightning around them, and he skipped supper to lay on the sofa. Hermione could barely eat anything herself that night and spent most of it by his side in the living room. 

At the stroke of midnight, Harry began to scream as black smoke poured from his scar. 

"What's happening?" Hermione shouted, trying to be heard over Harry's screams and the thunder outside.

"I don't know!" her father replied. "We need to get away from him, though. That smoke could be poisonous!"

Hermione tightened her hands around her best friend's arm. "I won't leave him! He's in pain!"

"If that smoke is dangerous, he wouldn't want you near it!" Her father tried to pull her away, but she didn't release her death grip on Harry. 

"I don't care! I'm not leaving him!"

"Isaac!" Her mother grabbed her father's shoulder and shook it hard. "Look at the smoke!"

The smoke was flowing in a thin stream to a spot about four feet above Harry's head, where it had begun to coalesce into a hideous smoke figure that looked like the top half of a horrible ghoul. 

"Hermione, we have to run!" Her father pulled her hard enough to hurt and managed to pry one of her hands off of Harry's arm, but it wasn't enough.

"I won't leave him!" she screamed, and the ceiling lightbulb exploded as if her rage and fear had somehow made themselves manifest. Even the wraith reared back for a moment and shook itself, as if stunned.  

In the sudden near-darkness (some light was still coming in from the dining room), a shape at the door to the deck caught her attention. Lightning flashed, revealing the sodden, massive shape of Padfoo staring at them through the door. Before her eyes could adjust to the darkness after that flash there came another, only now there was a bedraggled man standing there.

She screamed in terror and the locked door somehow blew open. Before her parents could react, the wraith screeched like a bird of prey and dove at her head. 

" Protego anima !" the man roared as he pointed a stick at her

The wraith bounced off of a shield of golden light that appeared a few inches in front of Hermione's face. It screeched in frustration and rammed at the golden light, but the shield held.

"I won't let you have her, you bastard!" the man shouted. 

The wraith apparently gave Hermione up as a bad job and flew at her father, instead, but the strange man shouted those words again and another shield sprung up in front of her parents. While the wraith fruitlessly threw itself at the shield, the man spoke the words twice more and two glowing gold hemispheres of light sprang up around it as if growing from the shield below. 

"Got you now!" the man said, strain cracking his voice. "This is for Lily and James!"

The wraith ignored the screaming family around it and bashed itself against the golden light, clearly trying to escape.

"I can hold this together…longer than you can hold together…" the man said. 

The wraith screeched again, in frustration this time, and ping-ponged around the golden walls to no avail. 

"Just die, you bastard," the man said. 

The wraith screeched again and its smoke began to disintegrate before their eyes. 

"Just…die." The man fell to one knee, but kept his stick pointed at the cage of gold around the wraith. 

The wraith screeched one last time and burst apart in an explosion of black smoke that dissipated quickly to nothingness.

"Finally!" the man said, and collapsed unconscious to the floor.

Heremione's father found his voice first. "Miranda…why did a mass murderer break into our house and protect us from a smoke monster that grew out of Harry's scar? Because that's what just happened, right?"

"I think that man is the dog," Hermione said.

"Um…are you alright, honey?" her mother asked her.

"I'm scared, but I saw what happened," Hermione said. "The big dog that walks us to and from school each day that we didn't tell you about so you wouldn't be scared appeared at the door a bit ago, then there was a flash of lightning and that man was there instead. It was too fast for the dog to move and be replaced by the man and that man clearly has some sort of supernatural power, so I think he was the dog, too."

Her father shook his head as he got up to close the door. "I don't think we need to leap to the supernatural just yet."

"We just got attacked by a smoke monster!" her mother said. "I think now is the perfect time to leap to the supernatural."

"That's…fair, I guess," her father said as he latched the door. "What do we do about him, then? I'm pretty sure that's Sirius Black." He paused. "Sirius. The Dog Star. Bloody Hell, he is the dog, isn't he?"

"Language, Daddy," Hermione said. "Or is this one of those times you told me about?"

"It's one of those times," her parents said simultaneously.

"Should we tie him up and take away his…um…stick?" her mother asked. 

"Normally, I'd say we should, but what if another wraith shows up?" her father replied. "I'm scared of him, but he probably just saved our lives and I don't want to deprive him of the means to repeat that performance."

Hermione nodded. "And if he's the dog, he's really nice."

Harry moaned and stirred. "What happened?" he whispered. 

"A giant smoke monster burst out of your scar," Hermione said, "but Pafoo turned into a man and broke into our house to fight it. I think it tired him out because he fainted."

"Oh." Harry looked around. 

"Um…honey?" her mother said. "Maybe break things like that more gently in the future."

"He asked," Hermione said, possibly a touch petulantly if she was being honest with herself.

The possible mass-murderer on the floor groaned and rolled over onto his back. "Oh, Merlin, I am not in shape for that sort of thing anymore." He opened his eyes and saw four terrified people staring at him. "I don't suppose it's too much to ask for that you have no idea who I am?"

"Not a clue," Hermione's father said.

"Me neither," her mother added. 

Hermione frowned. "I thought you said he was Sirius Black."

Her parents sighed while the man barked out a laugh. "Never change, Hermione," he said.

"I don't intend to," she said. "So are you really Pafoo?"

"Well, I'm technically 'Padfoot,'" he said, "but Harry hadn't really gotten the hang of all of his consonants the last time he saw me."

Harry blinked. "Uncle…Padfoot?"

"That's me, Prongslet," Black said. 

"Wait," her father said, "you know him?"

Harry furrowed his brows, a motion barely visible in the dim light. "I think so. I have these vague memories…Mooey?"

"That would be Moony," Black said. "I have no idea where that git is or why he didn't take you in when I couldn't."

"Take me in?" Harry asked. 

"After your parents were murdered, I or Alice Longbottom should have taken you in. I was framed for murder, though, and the Longbottoms were…hurt. Remus Lupin should have taken you next."  

"Murdered? Aunt Petunia said they died in a drunken car wreck."

Black growled, causing all of them to involuntarily back away a few inches. "If they weren't already in prison, I would make them suffer for that slander. Your parents were the bravest people I've ever known."

Then, as the storm raged outside, the accused mass murderer lay on the floor and told them all a tale of heroism, betrayal, and, most amazingly of all, how Harry had helped save the whole country.

When Sirius's story was done, Harry was stunned. "So my parents died defeating Voldemort?"

"They were heroes," Sirius said. "Don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Then what was in my scar?" Harry asked. 

"I'm not sure," Sirius replied. "It acted like the spirit involved in a possession, but if you'd been possessed you would have acted under the spirit's control and you'd have been dead in a few months. Then again, it's possible whatever protection your parents imbued you with also protected you from that spirit. But why would it only kick the spirit out now?"

"My scar had been hurting more and more ever since we moved here," Harry said. "Does that help?"

"Maybe." Sirius got to his feet, stretched, and began to pace. "There's something I'm forgetting from when I was a dog."

"How does that work, exactly?" Hermione asked.

"I learnt to transform into an animal along with Harry's father and the boy who later betrayed us," Sirius said. "It's called becoming an animagus. Harry's father was a stag and that boy was a rat."

"Rather on-point, that," Hermione's father said. Her mother elbowed him.

"Yeah, in retrospect, that probably should have been a red flag," Sirius said. "Anyway, it's harder to do any real thinking in your animagus form. I thought I noticed something around your old house, though, Prongslet. Some sort of ward…" he trailed off. "Bloody hell."

"Language!" Hermione and her mother said simultaneously.

"Sorry," Sirius said. "Anyway, I think what I felt were the remnants of Blood Wards. Someone tied Harry's magic into the wards around his aunt and uncle's house. When he moved away, whatever bound him to those wards broke, which gradually strengthened his magic until it forced the spirit out. Once it was free, it would have tried to possess you all. I don't think it would have succeeded, but I didn't want to risk it."

"Thank you for protecting us, then," Hermione's father said. 

"It was the least I could do. You've all been wonderful for Harry. When I first came here, I'd intended to take him with me, but you're a far better family than I would be, so I decided to just watch over him, instead."

"I'm really happy here," Harry said, "but that doesn't mean I wouldn't like you in my life, too."

"I think that would be valuable for Harry, too," Hermione's mother said. "We can't teach him how to be a wizard like you can."

"So I'm really a wizard?" Harry asked.

"Almost certainly," Sirius said. "It's rare for the child of one magical parent to be born without magic and almost unheard of for the child of two magical parents to be born without. Do strange things ever happen around you?"

"You mean like my teacher's hair turning blue when she yelled at me, my hair growing back overnight after my aunt cut it off, or my hair glowing when I did something I really, really enjoyed?"

"Exactly," Sirius said. 

"That's great news," Harry said, "because that last one was Hermione."

The girl blushed. "You said you wouldn't tell!" 

"I didn't tell them what you were doing!" Harry shot back.

"Just what, exactly, have you two been doing?" Hermione's father asked, his voice almost a growl. 

"Eating Pixie Stix," Hermione said. "I'm sorry, but they were really good!"

Her father sighed and put his head in his hands. Her mother patted his arm and glared at Sirius. "You can stop laughing any time you want, you know."

"No…I can't…" Sirius wheezed.

"What's so funny?" Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you when you're older…no, when you're married," her mother said.

"Fine." Hermione turned to Harry. "Would you like to get married?"

"Sure," he said. "You're awesome and then we could spend even more time together."

They shook hands and, to the astonishment of the adults, ribbons of gold light wrapped around their arms.

"Um…what just happened?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Merlin," Sirius said. "I forgot something important. While I was at the goblin bank, I made Harry my Heir. Then, just now, I saved Hermione's life and her parents' lives. That created a life debt on her part to me."

"A life debt?" Hermione asked.

"Your magic recognizes when someone selflessly saves your life from a situation they didn't cause," Sirius said, "and it will nudge you to repay that debt until you do. I didn't think anything of it and never would have asked anything of you, but one of the old ways of buying off a life debt was a betrothal."

"And because Harry's your heir now," Hermione's father said, "a betrothal to him would inure to your benefit." He blinked. "Did my daughter just get engaged at age nine?"

"I think she did," Sirius said. "I am so, so sorry. I had no idea that would happen."

Hermione shrugged. "I can't really imagine getting married to anyone besides Harry, anyway. All of the other boys are stupid."

Harry nodded. "And the other girls are weird. Wait, when we get married, can I get out of doing my revisions if I get you Pixie Stix?"

"No!" Hermione said. "Revisions are important."

"Are they Pixie Stix -Important?" Harry asked seriously. 

The girl blushed. "You're a bad influence, Harry Potter!"

"But I'm a bad influence who will buy you Pixie Stix."

Hermione shrank into the sofa as her blush deepened. 

"Huh," Sirius said. "Your father was never that smooth, Prongslet. Good on you."

"That's my daughter, you know," Hermione's father said. 

"Sorry," Sirius said. 

"Personally," Hermione's mother said, "I'm more opposed to the medium of the bribery than its existence. Those are bad for your teeth, honey."

"I know, but they're soooo good." She sighed.

Harry shrugged. "I feel like I need to get on her good side if we're going to be married. I mean, Mr. Granger is always being nice to you and buying you dark chocolate every few weeks. Isn't this the same?"

Sirius snorted and turned away, and Hermione's father sank his head deeper into his hands.

"Um…not exactly," Hermione's mother said, "but your point is well-taken. Anyway, I think this conversation has gone horribly wrong and I'm putting a stop to it. Right now, the most pressing matters are whether Harry is in any danger from what was in his scar and how to undo this engagement."

"Harry's scar is now empty and should fade away like a normal scar," Sirius said. "In fact, may I cast a spell on you, Harry?"

"That would be cool!" Harry jumped off the sofa and ran up to him.

"I think," Hermione's mother said, "we should know what the spell does before you cast it, Mr. Black." 

"Sirius, please," he said. "Mr. Black was my father and we hated each other. I never really wanted to be Mr. Black or Lord Black or whatever."

"You're a Lord?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, but only because my family was wealthy and awful for centuries," he said. "I'm not proud of it."

"I thought most lords had wealthy and awful families," Hermione said.

"Raising a little republican*?" Sirius grinned. "I respect that."

Her parents nodded slightly to each other. 

"Anyway," Sirius said, "I'm just going to do a little healing spell on Harry here." He raised his wand and said, " Episkey ."

A jet of light hit Harry's forehead and the skin there knitted itself back together. After a moment, the boy put his hands up to where his scar had been. "Cool! It's not bleeding anymore. Is there still a scar there?"

"No," Hermione said. "It's gone."

Harry pumped a fist in the air. "Magic is awesome ."

"That it is, Prongslet," Sirius said. "It's just…if there was a spirit still in you, I'm worried that might mean other parts are elsewhere. A lot of the people I was incarcerated with used to follow Voldemort and they insisted he wasn't dead. What if they were right?"

"That would be awful," Harry said.

Sirius sighed. "I need to warn people, but all of the people I need to warn think I'm a monster. I don't know what to do."

"It's gone on this long, so we can worry about that in the morning," Hermione's father said. "Is there anything we can do about the engagement?"

"I don't know enough about magical binding rituals or law," Sirius said. "We'd need to find someone who could help, but Harry is so famous, rich, and powerful that I'm worried anyone who finds out about her will try to…um…remove her so they can use Harry themselves."

Harry blinked. "I'm…what?"

"Oh. Of course nobody told you. You're the heir to the Noble House of Potter and probably even wealthier than I am. Also, you're famous in the Wizarding World as The-Boy-Who-Lived for stopping Voldemort."

The boy's jaw dropped. "The Dursleys beat and starved me and the whole time people in the Wizarding World were going on about how great I was for having dead parents? Those absolute gits ! I wish my parents had let the whole place burn down!" 

Hermione's parents stared at him in shock, but Hermione just put an arm around his shoulders. "You don't mean that, Harry. There were lots of little children then who didn't know any better."

"You're right," he said tearily. "Just the grown-ups, then."

She nodded. "Just the grown-ups."

"Hermione, honey," her mother said, "I don't think we want anything to burn, do we?"

"It's not a matter of wanting , Mother," Hermione said. "Honestly, if they were so far gone that they needed a baby to save them, then I can't imagine they'd have lasted much longer, regardless."

"That," Sirius said, "is horrifyingly accurate."

"You're not inspiring confidence in the Wizarding World," Hermione's father said. 

"They locked me in a prison guarded by soul-sucking demons without a trial," Sirius said. "I don't have any confidence in them, either, but he and Hermione are inextricably part of that world. They can't hide their magic. The ones who tried in the last war were some of the first to die."

"Then we won't hide," Harry said. "We'll win."

"Revisions are still important," Hermione said, "but I get the impression we're not learning things right now that will help us in the Wizarding World. Harry, we're going to need books. Lots of books."

Harry smirked. "Good thing I'm rich, then, innit?"

Sirius stared at his godson. "Your parents would be so proud of you right now, Prongslet, both of them. Maybe just a little terrified, but so very proud."

"So it's not just me being a little terrified?" Hermione's father asked.

"Merlin, no!" Sirius said. "You have no idea how glad I am that they're on my side."

"We can discuss taking over the Wizarding World later," Hermione's mother said gently. "I think our first priority should be helping Sirius."

"I agree," her father said. "Are there any magical solicitors you could contact?"

"Yes, but they would all turn me in on sight," he said. "I'm the most wanted man in the country."

"What if we went?"

"The Statute of Secrecy wouldn't even allow them to talk to muggles, or non-magical people."

"Well, then," Harry said. "It looks like I'll have to go, instead."

" We , Harry," Hermione said.

"It'll need to be both of you," Sirius said. "I have an idea. Harry, I'm really sorry, but we'll need to cut your hair to disguise you."

"Is it an awesome idea?" Harry asked.

"I think it is."

"OK, then," Harry said. "Let's do it."

*[N.B.: "Republican" means something very different in the UK than it does in the USA.]

Chapter Text

"It's a shame our sprog isn't home for this," the solicitor said as he sat down on the sofa next to his wife. "This new Jeeves and Wooster series looks great."

"It really does," she said. "I'm so happy that you introduced me to this show."

He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Not as happy as I am to have you here to watch it with me."

A knock on the door startled them both. 

"Who could that be at this time of night?" The fear in his wife's voice was a reminder that some parts of the war would never really end.

"I'll go check," he said, trying to make his voice more confident than he truly felt. "It's probably just a neighbour who ran out of sugar or something. I'll go check on them and be back in a moment."

As he walked out of the room, he saw his wife stand up and draw her wand. To put it mildly, she did not come from a family of optimists. 

He didn't know what he expected at the door, but two primary schoolchildren complete with backpacks was definitely not it. One was a boy with glasses, a buzz cut, and a disarming grin on his face, and the other was a slightly taller, serious-looking girl with her bushy hair stuffed into a ponytail. "Good evening!" he said as he opened the door. "What can I do for you two fine young people?"

"Hi!" the boy said. "Are you Solicitor Tonks?"

"That I am," Ted said. "Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?" That boy looked familiar for some reason.

The boy shrugged off his backpack without answering and, with some effort, hauled it around so it was on the step in front of him. "We'd like to hire you starting right now." He unzipped the top of the backpack to reveal what had to be at least a hundred galleons inside. "It's time-sensitive."

Ted sighed. "Of course it is. One moment." He looked over his shoulder. "Andi? Some work followed me home. Please watch it without me."

"Oooh!" the girl said. "Is that the new Jeeves and Wooster? My parents are taping that for us. I can bring over the tape for you later if you want."

"That's very nice of you." Ted fought the urge to raise his eyebrows. No Pureblood and scant few half-blood homes would have a VCR, but these two were too young to know of magic if they were muggleborn.

Andi poked her head into the hallway just as Ted was shepherding the children into his office. "Is everything alright, dear?" she asked. "Wait, are these your clients' children?"

"We're the clients," the girl said, her voice firm almost to the point of condescending. 

The older witch paused. "Oh, my apologies. Are you both alright? Do you need help finding your parents?"

"We're alright, don't worry," the boy said. "We just need some legal advice."

"Very well, but let me know if you would like us to escort you home," Andi said. 

"That's very nice of you," the girl replied.

Ted nodded to his wife, led the children into his office, and cleaned off two chairs for them to sit on next to his desk. Once they were settled in, he asked, "How can I help you both?"

The boy shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we'll need the standard vow first."

Ted's eyebrows launched into his hairline. "You two can power a vow?"

The girl sighed. "He can, at least. We did a dry run earlier without completing it."

The boy patted her on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I'm just weird like that. I'm sure you'll be able to do it soon."

"Vows aren't things to trifle with, you know," Ted said sternly. 

"We'd never!" the girl said as they both nodded violently. "This was important, though."

"Very well," Ted said. "You have a wand, I take it?"

The boy nodded and drew an old wand covered with nicks and at least one burn mark. 

"I'm not going to want to ask where you got that, am I?" Ted asked. 

The boy smirked. "I'm very sneaky."

"He literally gave it to you ," the girl said.

"It's more pirate-y if I stole it."

"How can you be a pirate if you're a wizard?"

"I can absolutely be both." He paused. "Can't I, Mr. Tonks?"

Ted suppressed a smile and wished Nymphadora were there to see this. "I think there have been wizard pirates in the past, yes."

"See?" the boy said. "I'll be a great pirate."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm never going to hear the end of this. Can we just do the vow before this conversation gets any sillier?"

"You mean 'more awesome,'" the boy said, but he gamely held up the wand.

"Of course," Ted said. If nothing else, these two were going to be amusing to work with. He held out his hand and took the girl's in his own. Once the boy put his borrowed wand over their hands, the girl pulled out a piece of paper (notebook paper, Ted noted, not parchment) and said, "Do you vow to keep secret anything I specify is covered by this vow and reveal it only to myself and my specified agents, as long as I tell it to you while you are still in my employ?"

"I so vow," Ted said.

A rope of golden flames shot from the boy's wand and wrapped around their conjoined hands. The boy's brows furrowed in concentration, but the light of the flames didn't so much as flicker. 

"I accept your vow," the girl said, and the flames dissipated around their hands. "Now, let's get down to business," she shot the boy a glare, "and that business is not piracy."

"For now," the boy shot back, refusing to be deterred.

She ignored him and pulled out another piece of paper and handed it to him. "All of this is covered by the vow," she said. "Even our names."

"Please destroy that paper after you read it," the boy added. "Ideally with some cool magic."

Ted nodded and began to read. Each sentence took another hammer to his entire worldview, and by the time it finished his hands were shaking. "Is…this true?" he asked them.

"Of course!" Hermione looked insulted. 

Harry shrugged. "As far as I know. I'm new to all of this, though."

"This is…" he put his head in his hands. "This is way bigger than anything I've ever handled before. Would you be willing to add my wife to that vow? I need her advice here, and I think Harry and Sirius may need medical attention."

Harry crossed his arms. "I hate doctors."

"Andi is a magical doctor," Ted said. "I think you'll like her."

"Fine," Harry said. Hermione nodded. 

Ted rose to his feet, slipped around the children with more agility than his girth might have led them to expect, and stuck his head out of the office door. "Andi, could you come here, please?"

His wife hurried over from the sitting room. "What's wrong, dear?"

Ted shook his head subtly. "We'd like your help, but we'll need to read you into the standard vow first."

"Wait, how could the children have performed a Vow with you?" she asked. 

"Because I'm a wand pirate!" Harry brandished the wand happily.

"Just to be clear," Hermione added, "he is unusually powerful but he is not a pirate."

"I'm definitely a pirate," Harry stage-whispered.

The girl pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just bind the Vow, Harry."

"Wait, Harry?" Andromeda asked. 

Hermione blushed.

"The Vow first, please," Ted said. "This is important."

Andi sceptically submitted to the Vow. "Are you alright, Harry?" she asked afterward. "You look a bit peaky."

"I hadn't tried two of those in a row," he said. "I'm tired now."

"Oh, Harry ." Hermione patted her lap. "You should lay down."

He nodded, scooted his chair over, and laid his head down on her lap. "Yell if you need me," he said, and closed his eyes. It was one of the cutest things Ted had seen since that same little boy had fallen asleep on Nymphadora's shoulder all those years ago.

Andi seemed to make the connection, too. "Is that really…"

Ted nodded and handed her the piece of paper. "This explains everything."

While she read it, he conjured her a chair. (A plain wooden one, since his conjuration had never been great.) As he'd expected, she only made it about three lines in before placing her free hand over her heart and needing to sit down. 

"By the way," Hermione said while Andi was reading, "our agents in this matter are my parents and Sirius."

"So he's really innocent?" Andi asked. 

"I'm almost positive he is," Hermione said. "He saved my life two nights ago. That's why…well, you'll get to it."

A few moments later, Andi said, "Merlin! You're engaged?"

"It was kind of a joke," Hermione said, "but I guess magic got involved and now it's not."

Ted leaned forward and rested his head on his interlaced fingers. "You said it was only 'kind of a joke.' Could you elaborate on that?"

"Well, Father got angry with something Harry said about something making me so happy my hair glowed, then Mother and Sirius started laughing and wouldn't tell us why, and Mother said she'd tell me only when I got married. I couldn't imagine marrying anyone other than Harry, anyway, so I asked him if he'd marry me and he agreed."

"Herm'ne is m'fav'rite person," Harry mumbled from where she was stroking his head in her lap.

"I see," Ted said. "So that was probably just enough actual intent that, coupled with life debt, the betrothal took."

His wife nodded. "That makes a weird sort of sense."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said. "Harry and I really aren't as bothered by that part as my parents are. Getting Sirius out of trouble is more important."

"You…um…might change your mind about that later," Ted said. 

The girl shrugged. "Then we'll worry about it later. Our education will come first, regardless."

"Boo," Harry said, his voice muffled by Hermione's leg.

"Oh, hush," Hermione said. "Revisions aren't that bad."

Harry grumbled unintelligibly. 

Andi suppressed a smile and went back to reading. The smile disappeared once she got to the end and her face went pale. "You think You-Know-Who might not be dead?"

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"You know who!"

"I really don't," Hermione said.

"You don't know who?" Ted asked.

"What?" Hermione asked. 

"Third base!" Harry mumbled.

Hermione broke down into giggles, Ted burst out laughing, and Andi looked very confused. 

"I'll explain later," Ted told her. 

"Do you mean Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

Ted jumped a little and Andi startled so badly that she dropped the paper and had to catch it.

"Don't say that name!" Ted said. "It was under a Taboo during the war and people are still terrified of it. Saying it brought Death Eaters to your door."

The girl frowned. "Why didn't the police say it and ambush them, then?"

Ted and his wife stared at each other. "I…um…don't know," he said. 

"I have so many questions," Hermione muttered, seemingly to herself. 

"Do you see why I asked for your help?" Ted said to his wife. "We probably have two cases of malnourishment on our hands, and on top of that they're both politically powerful relatives of yours."

"I understand, but it's a lot to take in," Andi said. "Do I guess correctly that your family and Sirius are nearby?"

The girl nodded. "They're in the car and parked around the corner. Would you like me to get them?"

"Yes, please," Andi said.

"OK." Hermione looked down at Harry. "Budge up, Harry. We need to get everyone else."

He ignored her.

"It's alright, dear." Andi drew her wand. "I can levitate him onto the sofa in the sitting room if you'd like."

The girl's arms wrapped protectively around Harry. "It won't hurt him, will it?"

"Of course not!" Andi said. 

"Would you feel better if I carried him?" Ted asked. 

"I think so. We're not used to magic yet," Hermione said.

"I understand," Ted said. "I grew up just like you."

He lifted the boy gently off of the chairs and was shocked by how light he was. James had been such a big presence in every sense of the term that seeing his son so small just felt wrong , like the universe was broken. 

A light knock came upon the door a few minutes later and Ted shouted, "Come in!"

Andi sat down on the sofa on the far side from where Harry was curled up, her face pale. Ted walked over and put his hand on her shoulder for moral support just as Hermione led three adults into the room. 

The thin, but wiry balding man seemed to be her father, and the bushy-haired woman whose hand he was holding could only be her mother. With them was a man he'd never thought he'd see again.

"Ted. Andi." Sirius nodded to them, but his voice was wary. 

Dozens of different responses cycled through Ted's brain, each one discarded as trite, insufficient, or inappropriate. Andromeda was openly crying now. 

Finally, Ted settled on the most important thing he needed to say, the one his brain kept coming back to and the one he'd want Sirius to have heard even if the man stormed out immediately afterward. "We're so sorry. Please forgive us," he said, his voice breaking. 

"You left me to rot," Sirius said, his voice dull.

"We believed the Ministry that there'd been a trial," Ted replied. Andi was still sobbing.

"How could you believe I'd hurt James?" Sirius demanded. "He was my brother ."

Surprisingly, it was Andi who spoke. "I thought the madness had taken you, Siri. I hear it whispering to me sometimes, too."

"The what ?" Hermione's mother asked. "Wait, I'm sorry. I'm Miranda and this is my husband Isaac. Now, back to my question. The what ?"

"The Black Madness," Andi said. "Many of my family have gone mad sooner or later, including my sister Bellatrix. In school, she was a normal, run-of-the-mill bigot, but within a few years she became a homicidal maniac slavishly devoted to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

Sirius shuddered. "She was the only one of his servants who terrified me nearly as much as he did."

"Is that…um…something we should be concerned about for Harry's sake?" Miranda asked. 

"Nah." Sirius shook his head. "If all those years in Azkaban didn't trigger it, this is probably as mad as I'll get. Then again, I did just spend most of a year pretending to be your children's stray dog, so maybe I am a little off."

Isaac shrugged. "You're probably less messed up than literally everyone in Azkaban, so that should count for something."

"I'll understand if you don't want to forgive us," Andi said, sniffling, "but I hope you won't kick Nymphadora out of your life, too. She cried for days after Harry's parents died, Harry disappeared, and you were imprisoned. All of her favourite people gone within the space of a few days."

"Anger was all I had in Azkaban," Sirius said. "I'm too tired to stay that angry. I just want my family back, or what's left of it."

"Thank you," Ted said. "We want you back, too."

Sniffles from the other end of the sofa drew everyone's attention. Hermione had climbed up next to Harry and wrapped her arms around him. "If they could take Sirius away, could they take Harry away, too?" she asked. "He's my best friend and I don't want to lose him."

"Nobody is going to take Harry," Ted said. "A ludicrous number of things had to go wrong for Sirius to be imprisoned without a trial. Now we know what to look for and we'll fight them if they try."

"Excellent," Isaac said. "That's exactly why we came to you. We think Harry and Sirius might need treatment for malnutrition and we need a plan to clear Sirius's name, then we need to figure out why this Voldemort—"

Ted and Andi twitched. 

"Sorry, this He-Who-Must-Be-Full-of-It fellow isn't dead yet."

Andi raised her eyebrows. "I'm…not used to hearing people mock him like that."

"What's he going to do?" Isaac asked. "We're the parents of a muggleborn witch. From what Sirius said, that's close to the top of his hit list, anyway, and that's before we basically adopted Harry."

"Exactly," Miranda added. "Our only options are winning or our children dying, so we're damn well going to win."

"So this is one of the times bad language is OK?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, honey, it is," Miranda said.

Hermione smiled. "In that case, go kick some arse, Mr. Tonks."

Harry, whom everyone had thought was sleeping off his magical exhaustion up to that point, raised an arm to the sky and sleepily said, "Yarr!"

"You two," Sirius pointed at Isaac and Miranda, "are doing something right as parents. I don't know what it is, but I salute you."

"That's very nice of you to say," Miranda said.

"It really is," Isaac agreed, "but if I'm being completely honest, I have no idea where his pirate thing came from." 

Hermione just shrugged and said, "Boys are weird," as if that explained everything.

Chapter Text

Ted ambled into the office of DMLE Director Amelia Bones. "Wotcher, Amy," he told his fellow Hufflepuff. 

She glared at him. "I'm a busy woman, Ted. What's so important that I needed to carve time out of my day to see you?"

"I have a question for you that nobody seems to be able to answer," Ted said. "It's a simple question, too, so I'm not sure what the problem is. Who is Harry Potter's magical guardian?"

"Albus Dumbledore," Amelia said. "Everyone knows that."

"So you'd sign a magical oath to that effect?" Ted asked innocently.

"Well, no, because I don't know firsthand," she replied. "But the Magical Records office can. Haven't you tried there?"

"That's the funny thing," Ted said. "They said they couldn't swear the oath, either. They said there was no parchmentwork on it."

"What." Amelia's tone could have cut glass.

"I was surprised, too," Ted said. 

"No, you weren't," Amelia replied. "What do you know, Ted?"

"Nothing I can tell you without violating the Standard Oath," Ted said. "I can just ask the question."

"If there's no parchmentwork," Amelia said, "that means it's never been changed either by operation of magic or operation of law. That means the designation in the Potter Will still controls. So why couldn't Magical Records pull that up?"

Ted shrugged. "They said it's been sealed."

" Fuck their seals," Amelia said. "I have an open missing person case on that child and this is evidence that should have been brought to our attention."

"Thank you," Ted said. "I think this will help a lot."

Amelia glared at him. "What do you know?"

"Way too much, Amy." Ted sighed and rubbed his temples. "Way, way too much."

"Get the hell out of my office, Ted," Amelia said. "And if I find out you were involved in harming that boy…"

Ted spun around to face her. "I would break that vow and fucking die before I was involved in harming a child and you know that."

"I don't know anything anymore. Not after what Sirius did to James…" she trailed off. "Wait, you got a look on your face."

"I'm sure I've no idea what you're talking about," Ted said. 

She sighed. "Vow?"

Ted nodded. "Vow."

"Just get out," Amelia said. "I've got enough of a headache already."

"Alright." Ted started to walk out, then stopped. "I'm upgrading the wards on my house to the very best I can afford and preparing escape plans. I'm…just saying, that's all."

Amelia stared at him. "But…the war's over."

He shrugged. "Goodbye, Amy. Let me know what you find."

Amelia continued staring at the door where she'd seen him last for several minutes after he left. 

A memo to the Magical Records Office confirmed what Ted had told her, so she filed the parchmentwork to unseal the Potters' will. As she expected, that brought another player onto the board…and into her office. 

Amelia pushed a bowl across her desk. "Would you like a sherbet lemon, Albus?"

"That's very hospitable of you, thank you." The aged, powerful wizard popped a candy in his mouth and sucked on it. "So you knew I'd be coming, I take it?"

"You could say that," she said. 

"Amelia, I must beg you to reconsider opening that will," he said. "Some of the bequests are to people who might be in danger if their connection to the Potters was revealed, and there's an item mentioned that I don't wish to draw attention to."

"I don't care," Amelia said. "I've got a missing boy and I need to know who his magical guardian is."

"Why, me, of course," Albus said. "I told you years ago that I took over after Sirius Black's conviction."

"You did," she said, "and yet the Magical Records Office has no record of the guardian changing."

For the first time in her life, she saw genuine confusion on Dumbledore's face. "But…that's not possible! He would have been ineligible for that position by both law and magic after his conviction! It would have changed instantly."

"But it didn't," Amelia said. "Listen, I don't need to open this will if you're certain it was originally Sirius Black."

"I'm positive," Dumbledore said. "Amelia, how is this possible?"

"Leaving aside unknown Dark Magic that was able to undermine the Ministry, I can only think of one way," Amelia said. "Was Sirius ever convicted?"

"I…Barty assured me justice had been done," Dumbledore said. 

"And you trusted him?" Amelia asked. "Merlin, Albus, don't tell me there was a man in Azkaban for six years without a trial!"

"But…I was there! I cast the Fidelius myself!"

"I don't doubt that, but could Lily have recast it? She was as much a prodigy in Charms as she was in Potions."

The old man sank into his chair. "Oh, dear Merlin. What have we done?"

"We did fuck all, Albus, and that's changing now." She leaned forward. "I want your help in the Wizengamot to fix this."

"Anything." He looked lost and crushed under the weight of so many decades and wars. 

Amelia smiled. "Excellent. Because I have a plan."

"Good afternoon, Madam Bones," Augusta Longbottom said. "What can I do for you?"

"A loophole in the DMLE oversight law?" Tiberius Ogden asked. "What do you mean?"

A look of horror overcame Griselda Marchbanks' face as she realised the implications of that. "Do you mean to tell me that you could imprison anyone indefinitely in Azkaban without a trial?"

"That's a good solution." Rupert Selwyn skimmed it once more and nodded. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention, Madam Bones."

Cyrus Greengrass pointed at a line on the parchment with his quill. "I'm generally in favour of this bill, of course, but do you think it's necessary to add this piece about house arrest for anyone found to be unjustly imprisoned there prior to their trial?"

"Consider it a way to keep my successors and me honest," Amelia said. "This way, if someone does 'accidentally' end up in Azkaban, the DMLE will be forced to relinquish its hold on them and ensure they have unfettered access to a solicitor or anything else they need. And the magical tracking requirement ensures we can force them to vow to accept surveillance, so we won't have to worry about losing them."

"I like it," the Greengrass patriarch said.

"So does anyone have any questions about this bill to improve oversight of the DMLE?" Amelia asked the Midsummer Assembly of the Wizengamot. 

"Just one from me." Lord Parkinson ponderously rose to his feet and withdrew a piece of parchment from his robe. 

Amelia had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. Could these fools even wipe their own arses without Lucius telling them how to do it?

"Does this legislation apply to any current or known former prisoners of Azkaban?" Parkinson asked her. 

"The DMLE has conducted a thorough investigation of all persons still alive and sentenced to Azkaban in the last two decades and found no irregularities," Amelia said. "At this time, we have no reason to believe anyone in Azkaban was denied a trial."

"Good," Lord Parkinson said. "No further questions from me."

Amelia fought back the urge to grin. Malfoy might have caught her obfuscation there, but his tools were nowhere near as sharp.

A few minutes later, Albus announced the unanimous vote in her favour with a twinkle in his eyes.  

The next week, after the Wizengamot adjourned, Ted Tonks ambled back into Amelia's office. 

"It's about damn time," Amelia said. "I've been waiting for you to show up again ever since the Wizengamot passed that law."

"I didn't want to give them the opportunity to reconsider." He passed her a parchment. "This is my client's formal petition for consideration under the new law."

"I'll review this and get back to you." Amelia pulled a folder out of her top desk drawer. "Oh, how convenient. I have Sirius Black's case file right here, and, sure enough, he never received a trial. I suppose I have no choice but to accept this petition." 

She signed it and placed it facedown on her desk. "I'll file this myself later tonight. That should keep it sufficiently quiet for now." She pulled a bracelet out of her desk. "Now, where is that bastard?"

Ted blinked. "You're ready now?"

"Of course! I've been dying of curiosity for weeks." 

"Alright." Ted straightened his shoulders. "Let's go. We'll start by floo'ing to my house."

"Let me grab a partner." She poked her head out of her door and shouted, "Robards! Get your arse in here! We have a situation."

A huge man with a handlebar moustache hurried into the office. "What is it, boss?" he asked.

"We're going to handle a petition under the new law," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "It actually applies to someone? But who could possibly…" A look of horror stole over his face. "You can't mean—"

"Sirius Black," Amelia said. 

"Are you fucking insane, Boss? Just because he didn't have a trial…"

"I'm absolutely sure this is going to be safe," Bones said. "Trust me." 

"Can I bring more Aurors with us?" Robards asked. "Like all of them?"

"Just come along," Amelia said. "I want to know what's going on here."

He shrugged. "Fine. I got the expensive life insurance option, so if I die, it's the Ministry's problem."

A short floo trip deposited each of them in the Tonks' sitting room. "Nymphadora!" Ted called out. "We have visitors."

"All the more reason not to use that name!" a girl shouted back, and a few minutes later a teenage girl with her bubblegum pink hair in a mohawk, ripped black jeans, and a Rolling Stones t-shirt stomped into the room. "What's…" she trailed off at the sight of their visitors.

"Merlin!" she said. "It's Amelia Bones!"

"Indeed," Amelia said. "And you are?"

"Nymphadora Tonks, ma'am!" The girl stood up straighter and her hair turned light brown…and somehow shifted into a bob cut. "It's so cool to meet the Baddest Badger in person! Can I have your autograph?"

"Wait, what?"Amelia asked. "Why would you want my autograph?"

"Because the whole House agrees you're the Baddest Badger to pass through the Sett in decades, ma'am! Everyone will be super-jealous if I get your autograph."

Amelia ignored a smirking Robards next to her. "If you must."

Ted was not bothering to hide his smile. "I need to clear something with my employers. I'll be back in a moment."

"Wait, employers plural ?" Amelia asked. 

He smirked and disapparated. 

"I'm going to get my Defence textbook!" the girl said. "I'll be right back."

Amelia had just finished signing the book while carefully ignoring looking Robards in the eyes when Ted returned with a crack into the foyer. 

"They approved," Ted said, and then put his hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Nymphadora, I've been unable to tell you about something until today. Remember how you used to play with your cousins Sirius and Harry?"

"Have they found Harry yet?" she asked. "I've been worried about him. I hope they don't find Sirius, though." She looked defiantly around the room. "He's innocent and I hope he stays free until he can prove it. I don't care what anyone says."

"I don't approve of your attitude in general, dear, but you were right this time. Sirius is innocent and we're going to see him so he can prove it." 

Her eyes lit up. "Really? Can I come?"

Robards glowered. "Are you sure that's a good idea, Mr. Tonks?"

"I could not be more sure." Ted took a deep breath. "I can only side-along one person at a time. Do you—"

"I cannot allow you to side-along the boss," Robards said. "Take me, and I'll come back for her if it's safe."

"That's fine by me," Ted said. "Nymphadora, I'll be back for you in just a moment."

Ted took Robards to a nice, but nondescript suburban house on the far side of London from his own, then they both returned to his to pick up Nymphadora and Amelia. Ted and Robards were both breathing heavily by the time they finished the last apparition, but at least they'd have a break. 

"Right this way," Ted said, and led them up to the door before opening it himself. "They're expecting us," he explained. 

The house seemed like a perfectly normal muggle house, at least in Amelia's limited experience with such things. She and Robards followed Ted through a foyer and into a sitting room where a boy and a girl were both hugging a tall, long-haired man. 

Amelia and Robards froze, trying to process what they were seeing. Nymphadora didn't hesitate for an instant, though. 

"Cousin Sirius!" She darted forward and glomped onto the wanted man and both children. "I missed you! And is that my Harry Bear?"

"What?" the boy asked. He looked familiar…

Sirius laughed. "I haven't heard that name for him in years!"

"You used to be such a snuggle bug when you were little that I used you as a teddy bear," the older girl said. 

"That's adorable !" the younger girl said.

"I'm not adorable!" said Harry Bloody Potter, because Amelia's life wasn't complicated enough.

"He's definitely adorable," Nymphadora said. "Wotcher, kiddo. You can call me 'Tonks.'"

"My name is Hermione Granger," the other girl said. 

"And these," Ted said, "are my two clients. Hermione is a muggle-born witch."

"I'm just along for the ride," Sirius said. "How's life, Amelia?"

"Much more complicated now," Amelia said. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

"It's a long story," Hermione said. "Should I put the kettle on? We weren't expecting you to come so soon, so my parents aren't home."

"That would be lovely, thank you," Amelia said. 

While Hermione made them some tea, Sirius sat down on the sofa. Nymphadora and Harry then engaged in a short scuffle, the end result of which was the girl curled up next to Sirius and holding Harry captive on her lap. Hermione didn't seem pleased by that turn of events, but she kept her thoughts to herself on the matter.

About halfway through the aforementioned long story, Hermione's parents returned home. They seemed wary of the newcomers, but were welcoming all the same. 

When the explanation finished, Amelia took a deep breath. "That story is equally amazing and horrifying. Thank you all for taking care of Harry. Sirius, I don't see any reason you couldn't stay here during your house arrest, and of course, since you haven't been convicted, we have no reason to revoke your custody of your godson."

"Yay!" Harry said. 

"Thank you," Sirius said. "I'm quite content with that. I mean, it's not like I was going anywhere, anyway."

"Excellent," Amelia said. "You'll need to take a Vow not to remove this bracelet, but it's just for tracking purposes."

Sirius nodded and took the Vow and bracelet. 

"I'll try to have that off of you during the Mabon Session, but don't tell anyone," Amelia said. "I want to catch Malfoy by surprise so he can't set up a response with his tools in the chamber."

Lucius was waiting in his usual spot by the doors of the Wizengamot Chamber when they finally adjourned for the first day of the Mabon Session. Parkinson, Yaxley, and Selwyn dashed out of the chamber almost as soon as the doors opened, all of them white as a sheet.

The newly-exonerated Sirius turned to Amelia. "Wait for it…"

"What?" Lucius's scream was audible all the way to the heart of the Wizengamot Chamber.

Sirius grinned. "I'll give that arsehole this: he's got a great falsetto."

"What a loss for Flitwick's choir." Amelia wiped a fake tear from her eye.

Chapter Text

Sirius apparated into the Grangers' backyard and strode into the kitchen through the back door. "Happy Birthday, Hermione!" he shouted. "Guess who has two thumbs, or four paws depending on the day, and a complete exoneration from the Wizengamot!"

There was no response for just enough time to worry Sirius, then Miranda spoke up. "Um…we have a magical guest," she shouted from the sitting room, "and I don't think she was expecting you."

"Well, then," Sirius said as he walked into the sitting room, "I bring you greetings from the newly official Lord Bl—oh, hello, Professor."

Minerva McGonagall sat on an armchair with a teacup in one hand raised almost to her lips, and her wand in her other hand, pointed at Sirius. 

"It'll be announced in the Prophet tomorrow," Sirius said. "If you don't believe me, though, feel free to bind me here for a bit and check in with Amelia Bones."

"But…Albus told me he cast the Fidelius himself," McGonagall said.

"And you doubt Lily could have recast it?" Sirius asked. 

A black-haired blur shot through the hallway and attached itself to Sirius's side. "You're free!" Harry shouted. "You're free and now nobody can take me away!"

"Harry," Isaac said reproachfully, "we discussed you not coming down while she was here."

"Don't care!" Harry said. "Sirius is free and now nobody can take me away from him or you."

"Darn straight, Prongslet," Sirius said. 

McGonagall actually dropped her teacup. "Harry Potter."

Harry nodded. "That's me! I can tell people now because Sirius is free and he can prevent anyone from trying to take me away or make me go back to the people who abused me."

"That's true," Sirius said, "but there are still bad people out there. You'll be safer if nobody knows where you are."

"You…were abused?" McGonagall said. "But…Albus said he was monitoring you constantly! I told him not to leave you there, but he said you'd be safest there because of the blood wards he placed on the house tied to your mother's love."

"You…knew I was there?" Harry's voice cracked a little as he spoke.

"Wait, a teacher put Harry there?" Hermione said simultaneously.  

" Dumbledore placed those blood wards?" Sirius asked.

"Professor McGonagall," Isaac said calmly, "I think it would be best if you left. No children of ours will ever attend a school with either you or Professor Dumbledore in it."

"But…they must learn magic or they'll be bound!" McGonagall said. 

"Harry and I are both stupidly wealthy," Sirius said. "We'll send them to school in Australia or France."

Harry nodded. "Hermione's my best friend. She can have all of my money if it will keep her safe from whoever left me with the Dursleys."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, "I can't take your money."

"If you needed it, I would give you every last penny and, when I finally pass on and meet them, tell my parents it was all well-spent," Harry said.

"Your father would absolutely approve," Sirius said, glaring at McGonagall. "I don't have a doubt in my mind. He'd be incredibly disappointed that you had to do it to get away from his favourite professor, but he'd approve."

"She was his favourite professor?" Harry asked. "But…why would she do that to me, then? I was only one! I couldn't have done anything to make her mad, could I? Was it my fault?" 

"Of course not!" Sirius said.

Miranda rose from the sofa and went over to Harry. "Listen to me, please," she said. "No one deserves to be treated like you were, no matter what they did. Your aunt and uncle were cruel, awful people, and they deserve to rot in prison like they are right now."

A choking sob caught their attention and they turned around to find tears streaming down McGonagall's face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Potter," she said. "I failed you utterly. I…I need to go now. I owe you something."

She rose shakily to leave, but stopped when Sirius said, "Wait. Professor, I want you out of here as much as they do, but you're going to splinch yourself if you try to apparate in this condition. Can I take you somewhere?"

"Yes, please, Mr. Black," McGonagall said. "I think I'd like to speak to Madam Bones after all."

Albus Dumbledore was finishing a long evening of Chief Warlock-related paperwork at his office attached to the Wizengamot a few days later when Amelia Bones poked her head around the corner. "Albus," she said, "may I have a moment of your time?"

"Can it wait until morning?" he asked. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"This has waited long enough." She strode into his office and put a muggle file folder on his desk. "Read it now. I'll wait." She didn't mention the half-dozen Aurors silently waiting in the corridor outside in case she needed backup. 

The aged wizard frowned and picked up the folder. The frown deepened as he read the evidence it contained from the trial of Vernon and Petunia Dursley. "This…can't be," he said. "Where did you get this?"

"From my counterpart at MI5," she replied. 

He kept reading. "Merlin! How could they?" he asked. "She was his blood !"

"That's why you made a great teacher, Albus," Amelia said. "You always found the good in people and drew it out. It's also why you'd have been a shite Auror…and why you were a shite Child Services professional. The Ministry has a department for this because of people like that, but you ignored them, didn't you?"

"Harry had to be kept safe!" Albus said. "I couldn't allow him to fall into just anyone's hands. The Malfoys would have killed him if he was lucky ."

"Safe, was he?" Amelia asked. "Keep reading."

Albus did as she bid him and grew gradually more pale until he began to turn green. 

When he finished, Amelia said, "Minerva told us everything. She didn't even do it to get out of a prison sentence; this is the first time anyone has ever tried to turn down a plea bargain I offered them because they thought they deserved more punishment."

"No…" Albus's response came out as a hoarse whisper. "Not her. She was right the whole time about this. I was so busy and trusted in my monitoring devices. This is my fault, not hers."

"If this goes public," Amelia said, "it's going to tear our society apart. To his credit, Harry doesn't want your blood…at least, not anymore. The G–some responsible adults talked him down. But I can't leave you in charge of children any more, Albus. You know that."

"I…don't deserve to be," he said. "What do you want, Amelia?"

"Resign everything," she said. "Saul will take you on as an Unspeakable with the proviso that you will never more be responsible for the care or well-being of a child. Minerva will remain at Hogwarts as a professor, but will be stripped of her duties as Head of Gryffindor House. She will remain as Deputy Headmistress temporarily in order to ease Professor Flitwick's transition to your position, but I would expect her to resign that role in a few years."

The old man nodded in resignation. "I can accept that, with one proviso." He leaned forward. "I need your word to tell no one of what I am about to reveal to you. If it were to get out, all of us would be in great danger, especially you, me, and Harry."

She cocked her eyebrows. "Very well. I give you my word. What is it?"

"Voldemort is not truly dead," Albus said. "I don't know how or why yet, but I believe it relates to a piece of dark magic trapped in Harry's scar."

"Oh, I knew that already," Amelia said.

Albus blinked. "Wait, what?"

She smiled, relishing the opportunity to truly flummox the man. "Once you are an Unspeakable, I can explain to you and Saul. I can probably even get the memory from Sirius. Harry is safe, though, don't worry. His scar is gone, and I think whatever it was may have even been holding him back. He's shockingly powerful for his age."

Albus sighed in relief. "That's a huge weight off of my mind, then. I have no further concerns about your course of action."

"Good. Now, will you do one more thing for me to help make this right?" Amelia asked. "Harry's had Sirius sleeping at the foot of his bed in Grim form for the last several days because he's concerned you're going to try to take him back to the Dursleys. Will you write him a letter apologising and promising never to do so?"

The old man nodded as tears began to stream down his face. "I only wanted to protect him and the rest of the country. How did I become the boogeyman, Amelia?"

"By half-arsing it," she said without pity. "It's one thing to do that as Chief Warlock; Merlin knows your half-efforts are better than anyone else's full efforts. But when you arrogated the burden of his guardianship to yourself, you took on something much too important to half-arse. Now write the fucking letter so I can get home to my own ward."

"I will," Albus said, and began the process of signing away his life.

Sirius's freedom and formal guardianship of Harry changed little from Harry's perspective, mostly because Sirius had them use all of the letters begging for money, favours, or friendship as target practice for the Fire-Making Charm. Both children had been chomping at the bit to learn real magic, and Miranda and Isaac had caved once they learnt that Pureblood families used the same "family wands" method to get around the Trace and give their children a bit of a head start. 

Since neither had matured magically yet, Sirius hadn't had much in the way of hopes for them, but they were both full of surprises. Hermione could manage three uses of the Charm in a row, or five if she traded off with Harry. The Prongslet was a little powerhouse, though, and could do a full dozen if he traded off with his friend for the first few. Hermione was a little grumpy about that, but seemed to take solace in the fact that she generally understood a spell more quickly than he did.

One day about a week after Sirius was exonerated, Ted Tonks set up an appointment with them during the evening after the Grangers were off of work. He came by after supper with a briefcase and a broad smile on his face. 

"Now that Sirius is free, I've been focusing on the engagement issue," Ted told them all once they were comfortable in the sitting room. "I think I've worked out a way to undo it and accomplish several other things at once."

"That's great news!" Isaac said. 

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged.

"Before I tell you the plan," Ted said, "I need you to promise to hear me out. This is going to sound insane. Also, do any of you like gardening?"

"I do," Isaac said. "I'm very proud of the shrubberies out front."

"Perfect!" Ted said.

"I'm suddenly nervous about this plan," Miranda said.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry," Ted said. "The first step is to give Sirius your house."

"What." 

"Hear me out, please," Ted said. "So now Sirius owns your house. Remember, though, he's a Lord. And what can lords have?"

"Horses?" Harry asked.

"Well…yes…I think he might have some, actually," Ted said.

"Wait, what?" Sirius said.

"Would he let us ride them?" Hermione asked.

"Of course!" Sirius said. "In fact, if I don't own any, I can go buy some."

Miranda shook her head. "I feel like that might be teaching Harry poor money management skills."

"I'd get Hermione a horse if she wanted one, too," Harry said.

"Oh, Harry, I don't want one that badly," Hermione said.

Harry and Sirius shared a look.

"Both of you!" Miranda said. "Listen to me: no buying horses until you're over eighteen and can afford to take care of them."

"Fine," Harry grumbled.

"Moving on," Ted said in a valiant attempt to regain control of the conversation, "the important thing is that Lords can have vassals. So the Grangers give Sirius their domicile in repayment for the life debt–and it has to be their domicile, not just a random property they own—thus freeing the burden from their daughter. Then Sirius makes them his vassal and gives them a Life Estate in the same house so they can live in it as long as they want. For their duties to him, they'll be required to farm the land as is tradition and give him something from their garden every year."

"Oooh, fresh tomatoes?" Sirius asked. 

"Fresh tomatoes, then," Isaac said. 

"Meanwhile, because it would be within Sirius's rights to ensure his vassals are appropriately outfitted, he can give them a sum of money equal to the current value of the house."

"Oh, so we'd get a Life Estate in the house plus its cash value?" Isaac asked. "That seems unfair to Sirius."

"Not at all," Sirius said. "I have the money and this seems like a wonderful thing to do with it."

"And it gets better," Ted said. "Because the house will be technically part of Sirius's estate at that point because he'll have the final Remainder, there won't be any legal reasons he can't ward the absolute daylights out of it. The end result is that the Grangers get a reasonable value for their house and get to keep living in it for the rest of their lives, Hermione gets out of the engagement, and Sirius can ward this place and keep you all safe."

"That's an amazing plan, Ted," Sirius said. "Thank you."

The Grangers agreed, so Ted pulled the necessary paperwork out of his briefcase and they got to it. They all had to sign with a painful quill that wrote their names in blood, but at least fewer signatures were required than on the comparable muggle documentation. About forty-five minutes later they were finally done, at which point Ted turned to the children. 

"Harry and Hermione, it's your turn now. Harry, all you have to do is say, 'Your parents' gift of their domicile has obviated the Life Debt your house owes to mine, so I release you from our betrothal.'"

He shrugged. "That's fine, I guess. Hermione, what do you want?"

She also shrugged. "I really don't mind marrying you, but I suppose we should put some more thought into it when we're older. I guess we should cancel the betrothal."

"OK." Harry held out his hand to her and, though it took him a couple of tries because of the difficult words he had to say, he eventually worked through it.

"There you go," Ted said. "Problem solved."

"Thank you for cooperating," Miranda told the children. "I know it doesn't seem important now, but it will be later."

"This calls for a celebration!" Sirius said. "That was some great lawyering, Ted! Isaac, do you have any of the good stuff lying around? I'll buy you more of whatever it is."

"This one's on me," Isaac said. "That's a load off my mind. Come on, children. It's too late for you to have caffeine, but I think some celebratory hot chocolate is warranted."

As Sirius, Ted, Isaac and Miranda headed toward the kitchen, none of them noticed the subtle look that passed between Harry and Hermione.

As soon as the adults left the room, Harry said, "I don't think that really did anything, do you?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so, either."

"Do you think I did it wrong?" 

"No, you said it right that last time," Hermione said. "And I think I felt something…almost like the magic weakened, but it's still there." She put her hand on her chin and looked down for a moment, lost in thought. Harry knew enough to let her think quietly when she was in this sort of mood. She didn't like being interrupted and the results when she was done were always worth the wait. 

"Magic is all about intent," she said after a moment. "Did you really intend to release me?"

"Probably not enough." Harry blushed. "Your mother once said we should marry someone who'd be our best friend, and I still can't imagine having another best friend I'd want to marry instead."

"I don't think I really wanted to be released, either," Hermione said. "I do think we could snap the betrothal magic now if we really intended to, but I just don't."

"Me neither," Harry said. "Is that OK?"

"It's definitely OK." Hermione leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, causing him to blush as red as one of the tomatoes Sirius wanted. 

"Kids!" Miranda shouted. "Don't you want hot chocolate?"

"We do!" Harry shouted back, and they hopped off the sofa and hurried into the kitchen. 

Betrothals could wait. It wasn't every day they got hot chocolate.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Sirius took the Grangers and Harry to Diagon Alley. The Leaky Cauldron was a sketchy, dim place, but they'd taken Ted's advice about covering up Harry and Sirius's hair and managed to sneak through without being mobbed by well-wishers. The Grangers were still a little sceptical of Harry's fame, at least until two different people stopped them in the street to shake Harry's hand. Several more seemed interested in doing so, but were put off when they recognised the formerly feared Sirius Black. 

Sirius insisted on providing galleons for the Grangers because the goblins had a terrible exchange rate for muggle pounds, so Isaac insisted he reduce the payment for their house by that same amount to make up for it. Sirius agreed, then looked sheepish when Miranda said he'd better not "forget" to do that.  

Getting the children's wands went reasonably well, though everyone agreed they would have preferred it if Harry's wand hadn't had a connection to Tommy. Harry insisted that phoenixes sounded awesome, though, and that he was going to do even better things with his wand to make up for what the other had done. 

Sirius suggested they get robes for the children next, followed by lunch and the rest of the school supply stops. His reasoning, which the Grangers found solid and Harry found amusing, was that Hermione would need enough time in the bookshop that it would ensure their robes would be ready by the time they finished. 

Madame Malkin's had some ready-to-wear outerwear, like weatherproof cloaks or chameleon-skin gloves that changed their colours to match whatever you were wearing, but most of the clothing turned out to be bespoke. Clerks took Harry, Isaac, and Sirius to the men's fitting section, while Miranda and Hermione went to the women's side. 

Miranda sat down on a convenient stool while Hermione stood between several mirrors to be measured. Just to her left, a young woman with shoulder-length, wavy black hair was already in the process of getting measured and smiled broadly as Hermione stepped up for her own measurements. 

"Hullo, dear," the woman said. "Are you starting Hogwarts soon?"

"Not as soon as I'd like." The girl raised her arms to allow a magical floating tape measure to measure them. "I was born in September, so I have to wait another year before I can go."

"I understand," the woman said. "Is this your first time in Diagon Alley?"

"Yes, it is, and we love it so far," Hermione said. "Everything's just so interesting! I can't wait to learn more about it all."

"I'm glad you like it so much. By the way, I'm Hestia Jones."

"It's lovely to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger, and that's my mother Miranda."

Hestia looked back over her shoulder and smiled at Miranda. "It's so nice to meet you."

As the fitting continued, Hermione asked her, "What brings you in for new clothes? You've probably guessed I'm here for my Hogwarts robes."

"I'm starting my own business," Hestia said. "I've been working for the Ministry for the last five years or so since I graduated, but I've always wanted to go into home warding and curse-breaking. None of the fancy stuff like Gringotts curse-breakers do in old tombs or anything, but just things like boggart or doxie removal. I'll need some good protective clothing for it and, if there's nothing else I've learnt from Gilderoy Lockhart's books, it's that one needs to look the part."

"That sounds fascinating," Hermione said. "What are boggarts and doxies, and who's Gilderoy Lockhart? What kind of wards do you create? Do you need special stones to place the wards? What about—"

"One at a time, please!" Hestia laughed. "My goodness, you weren't kidding about wanting to learn more, were you? I'm afraid I can't fit an entire's year's worth of Defence Against the Dark Arts into this conversation, but boggarts and—"

"Are you," said a stunning blonde woman as she walked out of a changing room, "still talking to it?" She sighed. "We have enough mudbloods running around without people like you encouraging them."

The two shopgirls gasped and Hestia's eyes narrowed, but Hermione and her mother could only share a confused look.

"A girl with a mind like that," Hestia said, "deserves all of the encouragement. How dare you use that slur in public?"

The blonde woman shrugged. "You might as well encourage your crup to study Arithmancy for all the good it will do."

"It's OK, Ms. Jones," Hermione said. "Mother has always told me that bigots of all stripes aren't worth worrying about. I mean, this woman's inherited wealth is keeping her afloat now, but with a mind that small and a love of luxury, I'm sure her family will soon end up a footnote in history just like all of the other old families on this island that mistook inheritance for competence."

The blonde woman turned to Miranda. "You'd best take your whelp home by its scruff, bitch, before someone decides you both need to sleep ."

"Not on my watch." Hestia's voice was quiet, but her eyes burned . 

"Ironic," Miranda said, "that you're the one using dog metaphors, Madame, given the types of fleas your husband probably brings home to you from the…kennels he frequents."

" Scum ," the blonde woman hissed, then pointed at Hestia. "It's adorable that you think you're ever going to have a career. A few words from me will ensure you spend your days a penniless wretch, blood traitor. As for the rest of you, cancel my order. I'm going to Twilfit and Tattings where they have higher standards."

The woman stormed out. 

"Good riddance," one of the shopgirls muttered. 

A moment later, the blonde woman shrieked the word, "You!", and Hermione, Miranda, and Hestia hurried out to see what had happened.

Harry took his place on a small stool between some mirrors to get measured. Next to him, a blonde boy with slicked-back hair was already being measured and looked bored by the whole affair. He turned his head, took in Harry's clothes, and sneered.

"Another mudblood? Hogwarts standards just keep slipping," he said.

The shopgirls gasped, but Harry just raised his eyebrows. "And I suppose you'll bring the average up?" he asked.

"Of course I will," the boy said. "I'm the Malfoy heir and the heir to the House of Black. You're lucky you're even talking to me."

"You're quite the heir, then," Harry said.

Isaac glared at the boys. "Why is Harry putting up with this?"

"Relax," Sirius whispered. "I've seen him defend Hermione from bullies after school. He's got this."

"Hermione has bullies?" Isaac asked. 

"Not anymore." Sirius grinned.

"Yes, I am." The boy preened. "My name is Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Perhaps you've heard of me."

"I'm still new to all of this." Harry wracked his brain trying to remember what Sirius had told them about the Malfoys. "So I'll bet your family has a seat on the Wizengamot, right?"

"Well…not as such, no," Draco said.

"Oh, OK." Harry did his best to sound genuinely disappointed. "But I'll bet you have lots of Ministers of Magic in your ancestry, right?"

"Not…um…we…my family prefers to provide its wise counsel to Ministers of Magic rather than get directly involved in politics." 

Harry suppressed a smile, which grew more difficult when he realised the shopgirls were suppressing smiles of their own. "Of course." Harry said soothingly.

"You know," Draco changed the subject, "you’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, and I can help you there. You seem sharp for a…child of questionable origins. If you'll do my revisions for me at Hogwarts, I can introduce you to people who will help you find work later for such…better families."

"Hmmm…" Harry pretended to consider it. "Let me get this straight: you want someone you believe to be inferior to you to do your revisions? Do you hate your own marks or something? Either you're lying about thinking I'm inferior or you're just plain mental…and I'm guessing the latter."

He turned around to face Sirius. "Uncle Sirius, you were right about the inbreeding being a problem with some of this lot! From what I can tell, either this boy's parents were too closely related or all of that hair gel is causing brain damage."

Draco's face went bright red with rage before the confusion settled in. "Uncle…Sirius? But…you said you were a mudblood!"

Harry shrugged. "No, you said that. I didn't disagree because I wanted to wind you up  and, at the end of the day, I don't care what bigots like you think."

"That's my boy!" Sirius said.

Draco's face went even paler. "You…have a child?"

A gorgeous blonde woman stormed into the fitting rooms. "Come along, Draco," she said. "We're g— you! " she pointed at Sirius and shrieked. 

Sirius made a little bow. "Me."

Hermione, Mrs. Granger, Madam Malkin, and a petite, young-ish witch with curves that even Harry noticed hurried into the room. 

"Hermione! Miranda!" Sirius bowed again. "I see you've already had the dubious honour of meeting my cousin Narcissa Malfoy."

" Extremely dubious," Hermione muttered.

The other witch made a little eep sound as she seemed to realise she'd wandered into a Black Family Reunion.

"Still playing in the mud, I see," Narcissa said. Harry had to admit the witch recovered her icy composure quickly.

"Oh, by the way," Sirius said, "Bellatrix sends her regards. Well, by 'regards,' I mean she was two cells down from me in Azkaban and regularly screamed about how she was going to eat Lucius's pretty face off of his living body for turning his back on your Dark Lord, but you know how she is."

Narcissa paled, and Harry noticed that all of the wixen in the room flinched at the unfamiliar name. "You…she would never…"

"Cissy, you grew up with her," Sirius said. "You know perfectly well what she would do. Don't worry, though. Nobody can get out of Azkaban." He paused, then looked down at himself. "Oh, wait…"

"That's quite enough!" Narcissa said. "Draco, we're leaving. This establishment has let itself go." 

"Wait, mother!" Draco said desperately. "Cousin Sirius…he said this was his son." He gestured at Harry.

Harry smirked. "That's just a turn of phrase," he said, once again carefully not lying. "My birth parents died ten years ago and Sirius is helping to look after me." 

Narcissa's eyebrows shot up. "Harry Potter."

"But…but…he doesn't have a scar!" Draco said.

"Sirius fixed it with magic," Harry said. "Don't worry about it, though; you'll learn all about magic at Hogwarts. And if you ask really, really nicely, I'll even help you with your revisions just like you wanted me to."

"You asked for his help with revisions?" Narcissa asked.

"It's not like—"

Harry cut Draco off. "Yeah, it was pretty silly of him, telling me how inferior I am and then asking me for help with his revisions. Definitely proof that Sirius was right about you lot inbreeding, if you ask me. Were you and your husband cousins, too?"

Narcissa drew herself up. "I have never, in all my life, been so insulted. Draco, we're leaving."

"You'll pay for this, Potter," Draco said as he stormed out after her. 

"That's no way to get me to help you with your revisions," Harry called after him.

After they left, Hermione charged through the stunned silence of the shopgirls, threw her arms around Harry, and hugged him tightly. "That was wonderful!" she said. "That's even better than what you did to Arnold Eastman!"

Sirius started laughing, which drew odd looks from Hermione's parents. Harry had long ago grown used to having an overprotective god/dogfather following him around and took it in stride.

Madam Malkin cleared her throat. "As proprietress, please accept my humble apologies for how Madame Malfoy treated you all. I expect all of my guests to behave with decorum in my store and there's no excuse for throwing that slur around."

"Thank you," Hermione said, "but it's alright. We don't let bullies like that get under our skin at school and we certainly won't let them, either. However, I think this does present a problem and Sirius may be able to help."

Sirius instantly stood straighter. "What can I do?"

Hermione gestured to the other witch, who seemed to be trying to blend into the wallpaper. "This is Hestia Jones. She was absolutely lovely to me and defended me from Mrs. Malfoy, so Mrs. Malfoy threatened to ruin her new freelance career as a curse-breaker and warder. I don't want to let that woman win, and didn't you say you wanted to set up some wards?"

"Yes, I did!" Sirius turned to Hestia and held out a hand. "Ms. Jones?"

"Um…yes?" The witch tensed and held out a hand for a handshake, but Sirius bent over it, gently turned it over so her knuckles were facing up, and almost, but not quite, kissed it.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Sirius said, ignoring the blush spreading across her face. "As the Lord Black, I have a property I need heavily warded…and, now that I think about it, another property that's probably in desperate need of a curse-breaker. Or a team of curse-breakers. Or possibly a large bomb. I'll defer to your professional opinion on that one. Anyway, I'll need to see your credentials and check your references to confirm you'll be able to handle the job, but assuming you are, I'd be honoured to hire you."

"Oh, thank you!" Hestia said. "I was Head Girl in Hogwarts, so I'm sure Professors Dumbledore and Sprout would be willing to act as references for me. I'd worked so hard to set this business up and I was worried I was going to lose it all because of that awful woman. Wait, I'm sorry, she's your cousin, I shouldn't have—"

Sirius waved her off. "Not at all. I mean, her sister is Bellatrix . She makes Narcissa look like a saint and Narcissa is objectively terrible."

All of the other wixen in the room flinched again, so Harry had to ask. "Um…who's Bellatrix?"

"Narcissa's older sister and the worst of the Death Eaters," Sirius said, "and that is not a low bar. I was almost as scared fighting her as I was her master."

"I heard stories," Hestia said, then blushed at the attention when everyone else turned toward her. "I think you knew my cousin Benjy."

Sirius's face dropped. "I did. I'm so sorry, Ms. Jones. Benjy was a fine wizard and I was honoured to fight at his side."

"Call me Hestia, please, Lord Black," Hestia said. 

"Of course, but only if you call me Sirius," he said.

"Ms. Jones…Hestia," Miranda said, "I don't want to keep everyone here from helping other customers. Would you like to come over to our house for supper tonight to continue this conversation?"

"That would be lovely, thank you," Hestia said. "Um…are you muggles? It's fine if you are, but I've never been to a muggle home before and I'm not sure what to bring."

"Don't worry about it," Isaac said. "Just bring yourself. We'll take care of the rest. Oh, and please don't cast any spells near the television. We've already lost one."

Sirius blushed. "I'm really sorry about that, by the way."

"Of course!" Hestia paused. "Um…you'll need to show me what that is first, though. I've never seen one."

"Movie night?" Harry asked excitedly.

Hermione nodded. "Movie night."

" Star Wars ?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head. "Too hard to explain. Raiders of the Lost Ark ?"

"I think that'd be even harder. Holy Grail ?"

Hermione switched into Graham Chapman's perfect RP accent. "I'm sorry, but that's just too silly!" 

Harry grinned. 

"How about Princess Bride ?" she asked.

"That'll be perfect," Harry said. He turned back to the adults. "It's settled. We're having her over to watch The Princess Bride ."

"Well, then," Miranda said, bemused, "we're apparently having you over for a movie, Hestia. I do hope you didn't have other plans this evening."

"Nothing remotely this interesting," Hestia said sincerely.

After they all paid for their purchases, Sirius explained to Hestia that they'd floo to his flat and the Grangers would drive them to their home. Her hands were trembling a little by this point, so Miranda said she needed to visit the loo and asked if Hestia would like to accompany her. The younger woman latched onto that offer like a lifeline and hurried off with her. 

Once the door was safely closed, Miranda leaned back against the sinks in what she hoped was an open, non-threatening manner. "Is everything alright, Hestia?"

"I'm absolutely fine," Hestia said. "I'm about to visit a muggle home for the first time and make a fool of myself in front of one of the most powerful men in the country and possibly the only one who will still employ me. Oh, and the Boy-Who-Lived will be there, too. Why would I not be fine?"

Miranda sighed. "Before I say anything else, we need to clear something up. That is a normal little boy named 'Harry,' not some celebrity the Wizarding World has made up."

"I don't necessarily expect you to know about it," Hestia said, "but I assure you he is a huge celebrity in our world."

"And I assure you the celebrity you think you know is entirely fictional," Miranda said. "The only true thing you know about him is the identity of his parents and that he survived the Killing Curse as a child. Everything else: the castle, the adventures, the world travelling; it's all a lie."

Hestia blinked. "But…the books…"

"The books aren't worth the paper they're printed on," Miranda said. "He's a normal boy with a normal muggle bedroom in a normal muggle house with a normal, if still-unexplained, obsession with pirates."

"Wait…he's been raised as a muggle?" Hestia asked. 

Miranda nodded "None of us knew anything about magic until this past year."

"Merlin! I had no idea," Hestia said. "That's…I don't even know where to begin. I had no idea those books were wrong."

"We've kept it quiet to reduce the number of people who know how to find him," Miranda said. "Sirius put up some basic wards around our house, but now that he's back in public again, we agreed that Harry should be better protected."

"You mean I'm going to be warding the house Harry Potter lives in? Oh, Merlin." She paused. "I'm so sorry! It's not that your house isn't important with just you in it, but this would be like a muggle security professional being asked to design the security protocols for a famous sports professional. Footie, I think you call it."

"Harry's that big of a celebrity?" Miranda asked. 

"One of our biggest," Hestia said. "I'm…I'm stunned."

Miranda laughed sadly. "And here I was trying to calm you down a bit. Please, though, don't treat him like a celebrity. He's a normal little boy, and he'll grow up happier if he's allowed to grow up like a normal boy."

"You're right," Hestia said. "If you don't mind me saying, I'm happy you took him in. He's probably gotten a much better upbring with you than he would have had if he'd really lived in his own castle like the books say. How in Merlin's name did Professor Dumbledore find out your daughter was a witch at that age, though?"

"That's…not exactly what happened," Miranda said. "I'd rather not talk about it, and it's not really my story to tell. Harry will tell you if and when he's ready."

"Oh." Hestia's face fell. "Is he alright?"

"He's safe and well and loved. That's what matters." Miranda sighed. "Regarding Sirius, I promise you that you don't have to worry about making a fool of yourself in front of Sirius. We had to explain a lot of muggle things to him, too, and he's probably a bigger goofball than the rest of us combined…with the possible exception of Harry. Who, again, is a ten-year-old boy, and comes by that naturally."

"I…just have a hard time wrapping my head around the Lord Black goofing around and learning about muggle things," Hestia said. "I've heard stories of the Blacks and they were a Dark, Dark family, and most of them would rather have eaten muggles for supper than eaten supper with muggles."

"My goodness!" Miranda said. "Sirius mentioned his family were terrible people, but I didn't realise that's what he meant."

"He wasn't overstating that," Hestia said. "To be honest, I'm from a working class Wizarding family. His father or grandfather wouldn't have considered me worthy to be a mistress , much less hired me as a magical professional. I held out my hand to see if he'd even be willing to shake it, and he kissed it!"

"Sirius has a big personality and a good heart," Miranda said. "Don't judge him by the family that threw him out."

"I won't." Hestia took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "Thank you for talking me down."

"It was no trouble." Miranda gestured to the door. "Shall we rejoin my family? I think we have dinner and a movie to get to."

"So," Isaac said, "how did everyone like the movie?"

"That's my second time seeing it," Sirius said, "and it was somehow even better this time. Not that I'm an expert, but I feel like that makes it a great movie."

Miranda smiled. "It does, indeed. Hestia, how about you?"

The witch conjured herself another handkerchief, blew her nose, and wiped her eyes. "It was amazing. Magnificent. I had no idea muggles could make something like that. I…don't have words."

Harry, who was resting his head on Hermione's shoulder, raised his hand and Hermione high-fived it.

Hestia gestured to them. "And could they be any more adorable?"

"I'm not adorable!" Harry said.

Hermione held up her hand to the side of her mouth toward Harry's body and stage-whispered, "He's very adorable."

"She lies ," Harry hissed.

Hestia's laugh was a clear, musical sound. "I can't thank you all enough for inviting me here tonight. Today could have been the worst day of my life, but instead I got to try my first basil pesto sauce, learn how to say 'gnocchi,' and watch my first muggle movie, which turned out to be an absolutely beautiful story. And tomorrow, I start my first freelance warding and curse-breaking job."

"It was our pleasure," Miranda said. "We had a lovely time, too."

Hermione nodded. "Introducing Sirius to movies has been lots of fun, so we thought you'd like it, too. And it means we get to spend a whole day at the magical bookstore later."

Isaac glared at her. "Hermione, we don't use guests as a means to get more books."

"What if it's a win-win scenario?" Hermione asked. "You can't possibly want me to reduce the net gain in the world."

"We didn't get you that book on different schools of ethical thought for you to improve your self-rationalisation attempts, young lady," Isaac said.

"Well," Hestia said, "I think any excuse to get more good books is a good one."

"We only have so much shelf space," Isaac said. 

Hestia shrugged. "Some expansion charms and a bit of runework, and we could add a whole library to this house."

Hermione gasped .

"Oh, now you've done it," Miranda said. "Hermione, dear, we can't afford a whole library."

"What if we buy only used books?" Hermione asked.

"Don't worry," Sirius said. "I'll handle this. Hermione, my old house has a large library full of rare books. Once we finish the curse-breaking work, I'll hire Hestia to go through and cull all of the books that would boil your skin off of your body because you're a muggleborn witch or teach you how to do that to someone else, then you can go through them to your heart's content."

Hermione looked torn between excitement and horror.

Chapter Text

The Grangers wouldn't have time to take the children back to Diagon Alley until the next weekend, so the next day Hestia came over to set up the wards over the house. The children were in school and the Grangers were at work, so Sirius was the only one there to let her in. Hestia spent the first day sitting at the kitchen table doing arithmantic calculations to plan out the wardstone locations, which was one of the most boring ways to spend a day that Sirius could think of.  The only bright spot was when a small, short-eared owl arrived for Sirius. 

"Um…Sirius?" Hestia said as he took the letter from the bird. "Is that owl…"

"Wearing a small tophat charmed to stay on its head?" Sirius asked. "Yes. Yes it is."

"Oh, good," Hestia said. "I thought I'd been staring at these calculations for too long and completely lost my mind. You know, you should probably check all incoming mail for compulsions, portkeys, and the like. You and Harry are pretty famous."

The owl hooted indignantly at Hestia and flew off. 

"Did that owl just get shirty with me?" Hestia asked. 

"Also yes," Sirius said. "And that's a good idea. Albus had all of Harry's mail redirected to him while he was Harry's de facto magical guardian, and I had it rerouted to me now that I am. But I should have my own monitored, too. I'm not used to getting mail after being on the run for so long. In this case, though, I'm pretty sure I know who sent this."

Hestia arched her eyebrows. "Just by the owl?"

"I only know one family insane enough to Charm a tophat onto their owl." Sirius waved his wand over the letter and it glowed blue.

" Merlin, it is a portkey!" Sirius said. 

"Wait, what?" Hestia asked. "Should we call the Aurors?"

"Not yet," Sirius said as he used his wand to magically unroll the parchment without touching it. "If it's from who I think it is, it's harmless."

Hestia came over to read the letter, too, and Sirius had to practically turn his head to keep his eyes on the letter rather than her cleavage. She normally wore conservative witches' robes, but they were loose enough and she was short enough that he could get an eyeful when she leaned over. Though petite, she was still quite curvy, and for the first time since Azkaban he was starting to feel something for a woman. 

Who was also a contractor for him , he promptly reminded himself. The important thing here was her work, not his fun.

Once unrolled, the letter was quite simple, though the long, loopy curves of the writer's quillwomanship made it a bit difficult to decipher.

Dear Sirius, 

When your Animagus form was revealed in your Wizengamot proceeding, I finally realised why that dog had stolen my wand and sent it back a few days later with roses. That was lovely, thank you, though I admit that my subsequent research on wand protection distracted me from my previous spell research project on ways to combine the effects of the Banishing Charm and the Reductor Curse. I'll get back to that latter project at some point, but wand protection is proving to be unusually interesting.

Xeno asked me to pass along that he hopes that The Hobgoblins will do another album now that you're out of prison, since we both know you're really Stubby Boardman. He also said that he wouldn't mind if you visited me while he was out this week if you wanted to make up to me for stealing my wand, but that he really wouldn't mind if you wanted to pay another visit when we were both at home. I have a wonderfully understanding husband, don't you think? 

This parchment will function as a portkey if you'd like to drop by to chat or do other things with our mouths. Just say your real first name and it'll whisk you right into our foyer.

Your Most Obedient Servant,

Pandora Lovegood

They both stared at the letter for a moment before Sirius broke the silence. "In retrospect," he said, "I shouldn't have gotten her red roses. I should have known she'd take that the wrong way. Next time I have to steal a witch's wand, I'm sending her yellow roses."

"I am so confused right now," Hestia said. "Also, did she say she was trying to combine the Banishing Charm and the Reductor Curse? That's a horrible idea! That may be the worst idea I have ever heard! She's going to get herself killed!"

Sirius sighed. "Pandora has lots of ideas and tends to act on them. I worry about her, too."

"So you do actually know her and this isn't a random witch you had a moment of contact with telling you to come over and shag her senseless?" Hestia asked archly, then blushed. "I mean, it's none of my—"

Sirius waved off her concerns. "No, no, it's fine. Pandora was one of a number of witches I…um…visited a broom closet with while I was in Hogwarts. After she started dating Xenophilus, I didn't expect to hear from her again, but she contacted me after a couple of months and asked if I…um…wanted to join them in a broom closet."

"She did?" Hestia blushed again. "But…wouldn't it have been tight in there?"

"Oh, it was," Sirius said. "You have no idea." He had to turn to adjust his trousers at that point.

"Then how did you… oh ." Hestia's blush was practically incandescent.

"Good times," Sirius said wistfully. "I think I'm probably too old for that sort of thing, though. Harry needs a responsible godfather, not someone who's always off fraternising with anyone who sends him a suggestive letter. Besides, sometimes I look at the Grangers and get jealous of how happy they are. I want that for myself, but I don't think I'm going to find it in the back of a broom closet, you know?"

Hestia nodded, still blushing. "I want that, too," she said, her voice unusually soft.

"I'll respond to this later," Sirius said as he set the parchment back down. "I don't want to interrupt your calculations any more than I already have."

"Oh, no, it's fine, really," Hestia said. 

As they walked away, Sirius noticed her furtively checking out the front of his trousers and had to hide a grin. "I've still got it!" he thought. 

Harry and Hermione came home from school at their usual time a few hours later to an empty house. 

"Where do you suppose Sirius is?" Harry asked. 

Hermione did a quick check of the kitchen. "He left us a note on the refrigerator," she said. "He and Hestia are working in the backyard right now."

"Oh, OK. Do you want to go…hey, what's that?" He pointed at the kitchen table. Set aside from the neat sheets of parchment covered with some form of mathematics he didn't recognize was another, larger sheet covered in a looping, unfamiliar script.

"I'm not sure." Hermione's curiosity took over and she hurried over to the kitchen table. "It looks like a letter for Sirius." She took a seat and began to read.

"It is?" Harry rested his chin on her shoulder so he could read it, too. "How can you even tell? I can barely make out one word in five."

"Her penmanship is definitely odd, but in a different way than yours is odd. If you assume this first word is 'dear' like it is in most letters, then the next word is probably the name of the addressee." She held the parchment up for Harry. "That first letter is probably a cursive 's', and the next letter is just a 'i' with a flourish. Yours are much stubbi—"

The kitchen disappeared around them as Hermione was sucked into and through the letter. She and Harry screamed as they whirled through a bright void, the centrifugal force threatening to tear him away from her. His reflexes had always been good, though, and he'd somehow managed to tighten his grip on her upper body as she'd first been pulled in and he wasn't letting her go. 

Wherever she was going, he was going, too, and he was going to make sure she got home safely. 

The spinning slowed to a stop and the void around them was replaced with a perfectly normal, if old and eclectically furnished, foyer. 

"Where…where are we?" Hermione asked, her voice still woozy from the magical transportation. 

"I thought we were in my house," another girl said, "but if you're not sure, then I guess we might not be. Do you think we're somewhere else?"

Harry struggled to his knees and turned around. Hermione was evidently not up to that task and just rolled over. In the doorway between the foyer and what looked like a sitting room stood a small girl, wearing a faded sundress on which animated fairies chased bugs and other magical creatures. Long blonde hair with the occasional twig in it cascaded down past her shoulders, and her grey eyes protruded slightly from the tanned skin of her face.

"I have no idea where we might be," Harry said, since she seemed to be awaiting some sort of response. 

"Oh, alright," she said. "We're probably still at my house, then."

She seemed about as far from a threat as anyone could be, so Harry decided to just roll with the situation and see if he could convince her to explain what was going on. "Well, then," he said, "thank you for having us over. My name is Harry, and this is my best friend Hermione."

"It's ever so nice to meet you, Harry, and you too, Hermione," she said. "My name is Luna."

Hermione managed to push herself up onto her knees. "It's nice to meet you, too, Luna. Do you happen to know how we got here?"

"No," Luna said, "but I didn't hear the crack sound that apparition makes, so it was probably a portkey."

"What's that?" Hermione asked. 

The little girl raised her eyebrows. "Oh, dear. I'd just assumed you were wixen because of how you appeared in my house, but if you're not then I'm going to need to call the Aurors."

"We are," Harry said hastily, "but we grew up with muggles and there's a lot we still don't know."

"I see." Luna nodded gravely. "In that case, a portkey is an object that's been enchanted to take anyone touching it from one place to another, usually with some sort of triggering phrase."

"That must be this parchment," Hermione said, holding up the guilty document.

"That makes sense," Luna said. "That is mummy's handwriting, after all."

"Is she here?" Harry asked. "Or your father?"

"Daddy is on an expedition looking for couatls right now," Luna said, "and Mummy is downstairs in her lab. With the protection protocols active, I'm afraid we can't disturb her."

"So there are no adults with whom we can speak?" Hermione asked. "We've arrived by accident and our parents might be worried if they come home and we're not there."

"Not here," Luna said. "We'd have to walk a mile or two to get to the Diggorys' house or the Weasleys' house and it's been cold and rainy all day."

"We'd better stay here in case someone comes looking for us," Harry said.

Luna clapped her hands, startling them. "Yay! It's been years since I had a friend over. Hmmm…Mummy said I should always offer guests a snack. Would you like to come to the kitchen?"

"Sure." Harry rose to his feet and helped Hermione up. "Luna, why haven't you had any friends over? Do you want us to go?"

"No! Not at all." The smaller girl stopped and looked down at her feet. "I really only ever had Ginevra Weasley over, but she stopped wanting to play with me a couple of years ago. She says I'm too weird."

"We know all about being 'weird,'" Hermione said. "Most of our schoolmates think we're pretty weird. I don't think I ever had a friend until I met Harry."

Luna blinked. "Wait, I thought you said you had the same parents."

"We do now," Harry said. "Hermione's parents took me in because my foster family wasn't very nice to me. She was my first real friend, too."

"That's sad," Luna said. "I know what it's like to be lonely, but my parents love me and I don't know what I'd do without them." 

"It's OK." Harry hadn't intended to make this unusual little girl sad for him. "I have a wonderful family now."

"I'm glad, but I still feel sad for you," Luna said. "Mummy says pudding always helps when you're sad, though. Let's go find some."

She skipped off before Hermione could register any dental health objections to that plan. "We're guests," Harry said, "so it's only polite to join her."

"You just want pudding," Hermione said, but Harry could see he'd won her over. 

"Of course I want pudding, just like you want to be polite," Harry replied.

"You win this time, Harry Potter," Hermione grumbled, too quietly to be heard by their diminutive hostess.

Harry just smirked and led her on. If either of them noticed he was still holding her hand from when he'd helped her up, they didn't remark upon it. 

The kitchen looked like a classic country house kitchen from the early 1900s, but with weird carvings on all of the appliances. A huge AGA range took over most of one wall and Luna was digging around in the icebox on the opposite wall, which appeared to somehow be bigger on the inside. She popped back out a moment later looking both cold and depressed. 

"There's no pudding," she said disconsolately. 

"Oh, that's OK," Hermione said. "We weren't that hungry, anyway."

"But I'm supposed to offer guests a treat! No one is ever going to want to see me again if I'm a bad hostess." The poor child looked close to tears. 

"I have a solution," Harry said. "Offer us the raw materials for biscuits and we'll make them ourselves."

"But how?" Luna asked. "I don't have my wand yet and can't do any Cooking Charms."

Harry rolled up his sleeves. "The old-fashioned way."

"What about operating the oven?" Hermione asked. 

"That's an AGA," Harry said. "It's always hot. Luna, do you remember where your mum usually puts cookies in the baking oven?"

"The upper rack," Luna said. 

"You know how to use an AGA?" Hermione asked Harry. 

"Aunt Petunia always wanted one," he replied. "She made me learn how to use it just in case."

Hermione glowered. "That insane old…ooh! I'm not allowed to use language describing how I feel about the Dursleys!"

"It's OK." Harry made a show of looking around and shot Luna a grin. "No one else is here and we won't tell a soul, will we, Luna?"

"Of course not!" Luna said. "I'll even expose myself to an Obliviatoad to make myself forget it if you want."

"That…um…won't be necessary." Hermione looked around, too, and furtively said, "Your Aunt Petunia is a rotten old bint!"

"No argument here," Harry said. 

Luna frowned. "That's all? I was expecting some spectacular cursing, like Mummy does when a spell blows up her lab."

"Um…does that happen often?" Harry asked. 

"Yes," Luna said, "especially when Daddy isn't around to double-check her work. Wards keep it from damaging the rest of the house, though."

"That's good, at least," Hermione said. 

Luna shrugged and turned to Harry. "Are you sure you don't mind? I feel like I should be the one offering you biscuits, not the other way around."

"You are," Harry assured her, "just in raw form. Don't worry about it."

Over the course of the next hour, Harry whipped up a batch of snickerdoodles (there didn't seem to be any chocolate chips in the house) while they chatted with Luna. The odd girl regaled them with stories of fantastic animals that they got the impression even most wixen didn't believe in. Hermione was clearly having trouble dealing with it, so when Luna stepped away to use the loo, Harry leaned over to whisper to his friend. 

"Don't be so hard on Luna about all of those animals," he told her. "I can tell it's driving you crazy, but think about it some more."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "Clearly nobody around here is applying any decent principles of scientific scepticism."

"That's why," Harry said. "Think about it like this: there's a magical world out there full of magical animals we didn't know existed. Witches and wizards have explored this world, and Luna believes in some animals that most other wixen don't. The problem is, as you've pointed out a few times, that most wixen don't seem to be able to apply simple reasoning to problems, so why should we assume they've figured out how to find all of the magical creatures that have been hidden from the rest of us?"

Hermione's mouth formed into a small 'o', but no sound came out. 

"Um…is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"We have so much to do already," she said. "Now we have to search out animals, too?"

"Nah," Harry said. "Luna can handle that."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. "You're right. We can let her worry about the animals other people probably missed while we deal with the insane bigots."

Harry nodded. That sounded like a perfect distribution of labour, especially because he had plans for the insane bigots who didn't like Hermione.

Chapter Text

Hestia made one last note on her parchment and took a deep breath. "Well, that's done. I can't imagine a single additional measurement of this property I could possibly need to ward it." 

"Me, neither," Sirius said. "I've never even heard of someone needing to do soil analysis charms to set up wards."

"That's because most wards only go about ten feet deep before wrapping back inward. These will go thirty."

Sirius whistled. "Damn. This place is going to be locked down as tightly as Black Manor in London by the time you're done."

"I hope so," Hestia said. "I know how much those kids could be in danger if the wrong people find out where they live."

"Speaking of which… Tempus ." Sirius stared at the time. "They should have been home an hour ago."

"Could they be inside watching that telly-vision?" Hestia asked.

Sirius spun around and started toward the house. "Hermione's not much for it, and they were both curious about what we were doing." As soon as he was inside, he called out for the children and got no reply. 

"Alright, I am officially worried," he said. "They don't usually stay after school for activities anymore since they're focused on learning as much about the Wizarding World as they can." He hurried into the foyer. "Their backpacks are here, so they must have come home. But why didn't they come outside?"

"Um…Sirius?" Hestia's voice was more distant than he expected, and he realised she hadn't followed him into the foyer. "Could you come here?"

When he arrived in the kitchen, he found her standing over the kitchen table. "Wasn't your letter from Mrs. Lovegood right there?" she asked, pointing at an empty corner of the table.

"Fuck me," Sirius said. "It was. What's the fastest way to get to a floo?"

"I…um…can apparate us to my flat," Hestia said. "It's not very clean right now, though."

"I need to make sure those kids are alright," Sirius replied. "Your flat could be literally full of shite and I wouldn't give a fuck."

"It's not that bad," Hestia grumbled as she pulled him into an embrace. 

A quick trip through a mad god's drinking straw deposited them into the sitting room of Hestia's small flat. Random books on warding were strewn around the sofa and various garments hung on drying racks in the rest of the room.

"Merlin!" Hestia reached for the nearest rack of undergarments, probably to try to hide it, but Sirius ignored her and strode over to the fireplace. 

"I could not care less, my dear," he said as he grabbed the floo directory on the mantelpiece. "There we go! For Xeno and Pandora Lovegood, we call The Rook." 

After they finished their third cookie each with no sign of any adults, Harry suggested they have another. Hermione thought that would ruin their supper, so Luna enthusiastically proposed a debate on the topic. They agreed, at which point she pulled out an ancient, dog-eared copy of Robert's Rules of Order and announced she would be the Speaker and run the debate. Neither of them knew any parliamentary procedure, but somehow Luna managed to keep the whole thing running smoothly with a minimum of referrals to the book. 

They also couldn't figure out how she'd procured a tarnished old ceremonial mace, but it looked spiky enough that they agreed with a silent nod that it would be best not to press the issue. 

They were well into Hermione's second rebuttal, which focused on the importance of proper nutrition in the diet of growing children, when a familiar voice spoke up from behind them. 

"Is anyone there? Harry, Hermione, is that you?" Sirius asked. Only his head was visible as a construct of green fire in the fireplace. 

Harry and Hermione both leapt back, startled, but Luna only waved enthusiastically. "Hullo!" she said. 

"What the hell is that?" Harry asked, pointing at the fireplace.

"Language!" Hermione said. 

"This is a floo, Harry," Sirius said. "It's a means of magical transportation and communication. I hadn't had a chance to show either of you yet."

"Yay!" Luna clapped her hands excitedly. "You got to learn something new today, too! I learnt how muggles make biscuits and you learnt what a floo is. That makes today a good day."

Hermione furrowed her brows, but reluctantly nodded, as if she wanted to find fault with that statement but couldn't. "Yes, I suppose it does," she said. 

"Is that Pandora and Xeno's daughter with you?" Sirius asked. 

"That's what they've always told me," Luna said.

"Yep, you're definitely theirs," Sirius said. "Hi, there. I'm Sirius Black."

"It's lovely to meet you, Mr. Black. I'm Luna Lovegood." 

"Likewise. May I come through?" Sirius asked. 

Luna frowned. "I'm sorry, but Mummy and Daddy told me not to open the floo to strangers."

"It's OK," Harry said. "He's our magical guardian, so he's not a stranger to us ."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again, apparently realising she shouldn't argue when Harry was trying to help them.

"That's a good point," Luna said. "So I guess you could let him in."

"Great!" Harry squinted at the fireplace. "Um…how do I do that?"

"Just tap the runic inscription to the upper right of the fireplace," Luna said. 

Harry jumped up and did just that while Hermione watched him, absorbing the whole process. As soon as he did it, Sirius leapt out of the floo in a burst of green fire. He hugged Harry tightly, and after a moment reached over and pulled Hermione into his embrace, too. "I was so worried," he said. 

"Um…may I come over, too?" Hestia's voice spoke up from the fireplace. 

"Oh!" Luna said. "I recognise him now. That's Stubby Boardman! Daddy has some posters of your band in his work room."

"Definitely the right house," Hestia muttered. 

"Is it OK if I let Hestia in?" Harry asked. "She's really nice."

Luna shrugged. "Mummy did say it was fine if Mr. Boardman came over, even if he brought a friend."

Sirius started coughing wildly as Harry reached over and tapped the runes again. 

"I don't want to know, do I?" Hermione asked. 

Sirius shook his head, still coughing. 

Hestia's emergence from the floo wasn't quite as graceful as Sirius's, but she still landed on her feet. 

"I don't know, either," Luna said. "Mummy said she'd explain more when I was married. I know! Harry—"

Harry pulled away from Sirius and crossed his arms. "Just so we're clear, I'm not going to marry you so you can find out sooner."

"Oh, poo," Luna said.

"Merlin!" Hestia said. "That conversation escalated quickly. Do I even want to know how you knew she would—"

"No," Harry, Hermione, and Sirius said simultaneously. 

"Are you both alright?" Sirius asked. "What happened?"

"We were looking at a parchment on the kitchen table," Hermione said, "and it pulled us here somehow."

"That was called a portkey," Sirius said. "It's a triggered magical device that can take you from one place to another. Luna's mother is an old friend of mine and she sent it to me. I shouldn't have left it around, but how in Merlin's name did you manage to trigger it?"

"I was explaining how to decipher the handwriting," Hermione said, "and I mentioned that Harry's letters tended to be stubbier."

Sirius sighed. "That would do it. The activation word was 'Stubby.'"

"Because that's your name!" Luna said. 

"It really isn't," Sirius replied.

Luna winked at him. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Sirius shook his head and turned back to Harry and Hermione. "What have you been doing since you arrived? It smells delicious in here."

"Harry made us biscuits the muggle way," Luna said. "They were really good. I didn't know you could make biscuits without using magic."

"Thanks!" Harry said. 

"They really were, but we probably ate too many," Hermione said. 

"That's what we were debating just now," Luna added. "Harry was speaking in favour of eating a fourth snickerdoodle, and Hermione was speaking against. I was the Speaker!" She hefted the mace excitedly, though it took both hands.

Hestia raised her eyebrows. "Um…that's lovely, dear, but maybe you should put that down now that the debate is over."

Luna sighed and put the mace down on the floor. 

"Thank you for being such a good hostess, Luna," Sirius said. The little girl preened and Harry had to smile at how happy she was about the biscuits. "Are your parents around?"

She shook her head. "Daddy is on an expedition and Mummy has been working in her lab for the last two hours, and it's locked and silenced. She had that look in her eyes, too, so she might not be out for awhile."

"I remember that look," Sirius said. "You're almost certainly right that she won't be back for quite some time. I'm afraid I need to take Harry and Hermione home now, so they won't get to meet her."

"It's alright." Luna sighed again. "Thank you for coming to visit, Harry and Hermione. I know you didn't really mean to, but it was lovely having you, anyway. It was almost like having a friend again."

Hermione ran over and pulled Luna into a tight hug and Hestia actually gasped. Harry's jaw dropped and he turned to Sirius, but the older man looked just as surprised. 

"We're definitely your friends," Hermione said. 

"Really?" Luna sounded surprised. 

"Really," Hermione said firmly. 

Luna snuggled into Hermione's embrace and sniffled a little.

"Um…Luna?" Harry asked. "When you said your mother wouldn't be done for awhile, how long did you mean?"

"I don't know," Luna said. "Maybe another hour, maybe another three hours. Why do you ask?"

"We don't want you to go without supper," Harry said. 

"Mummy does sometimes forget to make food when Daddy's not here to do it," Luna said. "Those are the nights we have toast with cheese for supper."

"Oh, my," Hestia said. 

Harry nodded. "Luna, we're going to kidnap you back to our house, then. We can feed you and send you back with something for your mother. Hermione, do you remember what we were going to have for supper tonight?"

"My parents were just going to get takeout Indian because they were working late," Hermione. 

"Oh, good, there's always tons of leftovers from that," Harry said. "I would've had to start cooking something otherwise."

"Harry," Hestia said gently, "Sirius or I could also have gone out to get something. You don't have to do that by yourself."

"Oh, right," Harry said. "Sorry, I forgot."

Hestia shot Sirius a glance that seemed to be full of meaning that Harry couldn't translate. 

"That's a great idea, Harry," Hermione said. "Luna, would you like to come to our house for supper?"

"I'd love to!" Luna said. "Just let me leave a note for Mummy."

Sirius and Hestia apparated the children back to the Grangers' house to find two confused, but not yet concerned Grangers. Isaac was setting out the Indian food, so Miranda went out into the backyard to figure out what was going on. 

"Sirius?" she asked as she opened the back door, "I don't remember discussing taking the children anywhere today…or having three of them, for that matter."

Luna waved cheerily. "Hullo! I've been kidnapped! But it's only fair, because I think I kidnapped Harry and Hermione first."

" What. " Miranda stormed into the backyard. 

Sirius sighed. "That is not how I wanted to start this conversation."

"Mother?" Hermione asked. "Would you mind setting the table for two extra places? We've just dragged Ms. Jones all over England and I've invited Luna here to supper."

"It's alright, really," Hestia said. "I don't want to intrude."

"You," Miranda said, "are not the problem and are always welcome. Can someone explain to me where you've all been?"

"Ooooh." Luna had wandered over to the old clothesline in the yard. "You have an anti-nargle net? How clever!"

"Luna," Harry said, "could you come here so we can introduce you?"

"I don't see why not," she replied.

He sighed. "Please come here so we can introduce you."

"Sure!" She skipped merrily over. "It's lovely to meet you, or at least it will be when you tell me your name. My name is Luna Lovegood, and I made friends today!" 

"Um…hello." Miranda blinked. "My name is Miranda Granger, and I'm Hermione's mother. I'm glad you made some friends today, dear."

"I am, too," Luna said seriously. "It's been so long since I had any that I wasn't sure if I remembered how to do it, but Hermione and Harry are ever so clever at it and even made me biscuits so I could give them to them and be a good hostess. Mummy always said I should be a good hostess, but she's never shown me how to bake without magic like Harry did."

"Luna!" Sirius hissed. "This is a muggle neighbourhood. Don't mention magic!"

"Wow, really?" She looked around again. "I've never been to a muggle house before. What a grand adventure!"

"Indeed!" Hermione said with forced cheer. "Harry, why don't you show our guest around the yard while I talk to Mother?"

He nodded and introduced Luna to Isaac's garden, which she had a predictably large number of questions about. 

Hermione ran up to her mother and gave her a hug as soon as Luna was occupied. "It's been a weird afternoon," she said. "Let's go inside and we'll explain everything. Also, I'm going to do the dishes myself tonight. Harry's been wonderful today and he deserves a break."

"Very well, dear," Miranda said. 

Once they were back inside, Hermione, Sirius, and Hestia explained the events of the day and why Harry was distracting the chatty, underfed waif outside. 

"I'm really sorry about the portkey," Sirius said. "I feel awful about just leaving it around, but I got distracted by the warding work and it didn't occur to me that they'd accidentally say the activation word."

"I should have thought of that, too," Hestia said. 

Isaac smiled ruefully. "That was ill-considered, but since neither of you have children, I understand. When they're young, you develop a certain level of paranoia about what they might manage to get into and you start to assume they'll do something like that."

"They all seek out different ways to kill themselves," Miranda added. "It's remarkable our species has survived as long as it has. Hermione, you and Harry were very brave and kept your heads well."

"Thank you," Hermione said. "I don't think I would have done as well without Harry there. He's better at dealing with new people than I am. Also, Luna nearly had a panic attack until Harry offered to make her some biscuits to give to us. I think she's been alone with her parents for a couple of years and she was terrified that we'd think she was a bad hostess and leave."

"That poor child!" Miranda said.

"She's very strange, but also very sweet," Hermione said. "Speaking of her, I'm going to give Harry a break now that we've talked. She's a lot to deal with."

Right after Hermione left, Harry hurried into the house, waved, and kept hurrying straight into the loo. A few minutes after that, he emerged. "Sorry, I've been holding it for awhile," he said. "Luna's house was weird and I didn't want to find out what the toilets might do to me."

Sirius barked out a laugh. "Smart, Pup. The Lovegoods are unusual even by Wizarding standards."

Isaac stood up and put a hand on Harry's shoulder, a motion from which the boy didn't even flinch anymore. "You were very brave today. Our Hermione isn't always the best at dealing with unexpected situations or unusual people, and today was full of both. I'm glad you were there with her."

"I'll always be there if she needs me," Harry said, "just like she always is for me."

Hestia insisted on accompanying Sirius when he took Luna back to his flat so she could floo home, and something in her tone of voice warned him that it wasn't to make a pass at him. Since it was a nice night in the London area, Sirius transfigured the younger girl a jacket from one of Isaac's old undershirts and they walked the fifteen minutes to Sirius's flat. Luna was inquisitive about everything she saw in the muggle world and it was all Sirius could do to keep the conversation quiet enough not to break the Statute.

Once they were back to Sirius's small, one-bedroom flat, the living room of which he kept clean in case any of the Grangers stopped by, Luna enthusiastically hugged them goodbye and floo'd home. As the green flames of the floo died away, Hestia turned to Sirius. The normal red flames of the fireplace burned in her hazel eyes.

"I've ignored a lot," she said. "Like the things Miranda said to me the day we met, or how Harry flinches from loud noises, or how he never sits with his back to a door. But today he was the one who thought it was necessary to check if Luna was eating enough, and he was getting ready to manage dinner for Luna by himself and it never even occurred to him to ask an adult. He's ten , Sirius. Who taught him these habits, and where the fuck are they ?"

Lying to Hestia just then struck Sirius as a terrible idea for a variety of reasons, not least of which was the fact that the fire in his fireplace was burning at least a foot higher by the time she stopped talking than it had been when she started. "They're in prison," he said. "They're going to be there for another eight years. When they're released, I'll make sure Harry doesn't get his hands dirty."

Hestia's fury faded away and the reflection of the firelight in her eyes grew fuzzy as a layer of tears formed there. " Why? " was all she said. 

"Lily's sister hated magic and she hated people like us who could wield it when she couldn't," Sirius said. "Harry went to them anyway."

"Merlin!" the shorter woman bent over a bit, her wavy black hair falling in curtains around her face. "I feel physically ill. All those years…all those books…while I was reading stories about how marvellous his life was, he was being abused! I feel complicit, like I allowed myself to be lulled into a false sense of security about him while he needed help."

Before Sirius could consider the impropriety of doing so, he'd pulled her into an embrace. Propriety aside, she certainly didn't seem to mind; the witch clung to him like a life raft. "That's similar to his reaction when I told him about the books for the first time," Sirius said. "He was furious, as was Hermione."

"As they should be!" Hestia's grip tightened. "The Grangers…they rescued him, didn't they? You were in prison."

Sirius nodded. "I failed him as much as anyone."

"It's not your fault," Hestia said. "You made a mistake, sure, but then the rest of our world failed you as badly as it failed Harry. I'm surprised you don't hate all of us."

"I kind of did," Sirius admitted, "until I met my niece Nymphadora. We used to play together when she was little, but I assumed she felt like everyone else until Ted Tonks was finally ready to tell Amelia about me. He brought Nym over, too, and she ran over and hugged me. She'd never given up. All those years… I'd given up, but she never had. Every time I think I should just take Harry and the Grangers to Australia and let this damn fool island burn, I remember Nym and I can't do it."

Hestia snuggled into his embrace. "You're a better man than I—we deserve, Sirius Black." She then froze, released the hug, and backed away from him while frantically looking everywhere but at his eyes. "I…I should go. May I use your…um…" she gestured at his fireplace. "Floo?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Hestia's normally pink cheeks were as red as the fire. "Thank you." She took a pinch of floo powder, called out, "Hestia's Hideaway," and disappeared in a flash of green.

Sirius stared at the fire long after it had turned back to red, lost in his thoughts and the dancing flames. 

It was a warm, beautiful day in early November, a rare and wonderful gift from nature before the winter set in, and Luna was determined to make the most of it. She'd spent the whole morning aimlessly wandering through the woods, gone home for a sandwich and to check in with her parents, and was now back outside and following the little stream just to see if it was doing anything interesting. It usually wasn't, but one never knew, and one of the best lessons her father had ever taught her was that sometimes the research was its own reward. 

It wasn't until she nearly tripped over the pond and the redheaded girl skipping stones across it that she realised how far she'd followed the water.

"Oh, hullo there, Luna!" Ginevra said. "It's been a minute since I've seen you. How have you been?"

"I've been good," Luna said. "I've made some new friends, Harry and Hermione, and they've invited me over to their house for dinner tonight. Would you like to come? Every week they introduce me to muggle food from a different country. Some of it's a bit spicy, but it's all so interesting!"

"They're muggles?" Ginevra asked. "However did you meet them?"

"They're actually muggle-born," Luna replied. "It's a long story, but it turns out they know Stubby Boardman, who's also a friend of my parents."

"Oh, I see." Ginevra sighed. "I'm sure they're lovely and just as odd as you are, but I'll have to pass. That food sounds a bit queer for my tastes and I'd rather read about the wizard Harry than chat with a weird muggle-born Harry."

"I understand," Luna said sadly. "I suppose I should be getting home to get ready. It's been nice to see you, Ginevra."

"Likewise," Ginevra said as she skipped another stone. 

"Is everything OK, Luna?" Harry asked as he used some flexible injera bread to take a scoop of misir wat. He liked Ethiopian food, but he wasn't always clear on how one was supposed to grab runny lentil stews with bread. "You've seemed a little down tonight."

She put down some injera she'd been absently chewing and hugged his arm tightly. "You're a perfectly good Harry," she said. "I ran into my friend Ginevra today and mentioned I was going to see you and Hermione, and she said she'd rather read about Harry Potter than meet some random muggle-born 'Harry' who's odd enough to want to be my friend. I think that's mean, but I don't want you to have fewer friends because people think you're weird for wanting to be my friend. You and Hermione are so nice and you deserve to have more friends, even if one of them isn't me." She paused. "Harry, are you alright? Was some of the food too spicy for you?"

"I'm…fine…" Harry said between coughs. That Sirius was clearly trying to contain his laughter was not helping matters. 

"Luna?" Hermione asked gently from where she was sitting on Harry's other side. "I think we may have misled you about something and I'm terribly sorry. Harry's not a muggle-born like me. He's muggle-raised ." 

"Oh, I see," Luna said. "That doesn't seem like it's worth apologising for, though."

Harry put his injera down on his plate so he could hug Luna back. "It's the next part we feel sorry about. My last name is 'Potter.' I forgot we hadn't told you, but when we first met you I wasn't sure who you were or why we were there, so I didn't want to say too much about who I was, then I forgot when I focused on making the biscuits."

The smaller girl froze in his arms. "You're…not messing with me, are you? Ginevra's brothers do that sometimes, but you don't. You're really him."

"I really am," Harry said.

Hermione nodded. "I completely forgot you couldn't have known," she said. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."

"But…the books…" Luna said.

"Are complete and utter hogwash," Harry said. "I grew up with my aunt and uncle until the Grangers rescued me, and I didn't meet Sirius until months later."

"Oh, my," Luna's voice was small from inside Harry's arms. "Um…hello, Harry Potter."

"Hello, Luna Lovegood," Harry replied. 

Sirius cleared his throat. "Now do you see why I asked you to make your parents promise not to mention anything about Harry?"

She nodded. "I thought it was because you were famous and didn't want your nephew being hounded by the press."

"I'm really not…well, I guess I am famous, but I'm famous as myself and not as the lead singer of a band," Sirius said.

"Well, I won't let them hound Harry for any reason," Luna said. "It wouldn't be right."

"I have an idea," Harry said. "Luna, is Ginevra your age?"

"Yes, she is."

"Perfect. Please keep implying I'm muggleborn to her, and then introduce us in a couple of years when you come to Hogwarts. I just want to see the look on her face."

Hermione frowned, then cocked her head. "I was going to say that seems a little mean, but it's perfect, isn't it?"

"I think it is," Harry said. "I'll never be the 'Harry Potter' she's reading about, so to her I am just some random Harry."

Miranda cleared her throat. "That's an unusual way to conceptualise your fame, Harry."

He shrugged and released Luna from his embrace. "I don't even see it as my fame," he said. "It's just a bunch of people giving me credit for something my parents did and making up stories about me. If I'm going to be famous, I want it to be because I actually did something awesome, not because people have deluded themselves into thinking I did."

"Good for you," Isaac said. "I know you will one day."

"I had no idea," Luna said. "You're right, though. Hermione and I are lucky we have you as a friend, not that other Harry Potter. He spends all of his time with popular people in the books, and from what Hermione has told me, she's kind of like me in that we're not popular people."

Hermione nodded. "I'm very lucky to have the real Harry Potter as a friend, regardless, and I wouldn't trade him for anyone. Ginevra can keep her Harry Potter if she wants him. I think you're right that he wouldn't want to be our friend, anyway."

"I wouldn't trade you for anyone, either," Harry said. "It sounds like Harry Potter…I'm sorry, this conversation is now too weird for me to handle. I was just about to psychoanalyse a fictional version of myself ."

Luna nodded sagely. "That's probably a bad sign. Let's leave Ginevra's Harry Potter to her and let ours eat his dinner."

"I agree," Hermione said, and Harry nodded enthusiastically.

Chapter Text

Sirius stepped from the floo smoothly and bowed to his hosts, the younger of whom stepped forward and returned the bow. 

"I bid you welcome to Longbottom Manor, Lord Black" Neville said.

"You…um…might not want to stand there, kid," Sirius replied.

A confused expression was about halfway across the poor boy's face before Harry tumbled out of the floo and into his legs, sending them both into a tangled heap. Hermione came out a moment later, stumbling, but Sirius managed to catch her arm before she ended up in the pile in front of her. 

"My apologies, Regent Longbottom," Sirius said to Neville's grandmother Augusta. "They're still getting the hang of floo'ing."

She sniffed. "I'd gathered as much."

"Sorry about that." Harry hauled himself to his feet and helped Neville up. "I have no idea how you lot floo and don't fall over."

"I'm not very good at it, either." Neville looked down at the floor.

"I'm sure," Augusta said, "that you'll pick it up in time, Neville. Your father's floo exits were always elegant."

"When he was sober, anyway," Sirius said. "There was one time after we were celebrating Lily and Alice's pregnancies—"

Very few glares were capable of stopping Sirius mid-story, but the look on Augusta's face just then was one of such undisguised fury that he briefly feared for his own safety.

" Anyway ," Augusta said, "Lord Black, will you introduce our guests?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "I'd like to present my godson Harry Potter and his best friend, Hermione Granger."

Harry bowed awkwardly and Hermione gave a wobbly curtsey. 

"It's lovely to meet you," Augusta said. "Miss Granger, is it true you're a muggle-born witch?"

"Yes, Regent Longbottom," Hermione replied.

"How fascinating! You may be the youngest muggle-born witch ever to grace this house with your presence since The Bastard destroyed our old one and we had to move here."

Harry snickered, then stopped when Augusta turned her glare on him. She opened her mouth, but Hermione spoke up before she could reprimand him. "Wait, do you mean William the Conqueror?"

Augusta sniffed disdainfully. "It takes more than claiming a fancy sobriquet to clean up one's heritage. William was a bastard born and bred, and he putrifies in Caen a bastard dead. He initially tried to uproot our family, but the Longbottoms showed him he needed better court wizards by murdering the ones he sent to destroy our previous house."

"Oh, my," Hermione said in a small voice.

"That's awesome!" Harry said. "Did you know his body was so decayed that it exploded when they tried to put it in the mausoleum and everyone at his funeral had to run away from the smell?"

The old woman smiled for the first time since they arrived. "Of course, dear boy," she said. "Who do you think cast the spell to speed up the putrefaction of his corpse but one of our ancestors?"

Harry clapped Neville on the back. "Your family is awesome!"

The other boy looked a little green. "Um…thank you?"

"Neville, why don't you show our guests around the house and grounds?" Augusta said.

"Yes, Gran," Neville said. "Would you all like to follow me?"

"Sure." Harry paused, then turned back to Hermione. "Are you OK?"

The girl looked even greener than Neville. "I was almost recovered from the motion sickness until you started talking about exploding corpses." 

"Oh, sorry." Harry scratched the back of his head awkwardly and then held out an arm. "You can hold onto my arm if you want."

"Yes, please." Hermione latched onto him like a life raft. 

"How gentlemanly of you!" Augusta paused. "At least, the part after you brought up the corpses." She sighed and rubbed her temples. "Decades of reading on etiquette and literally none of it discussed this sort of situation."

Sirius smiled. "He gets that from his father."

"I knew I recognized this headache from somewhere," Augusta said. "I'm going to have a cup of tea in the conservatory. Please let me or one of the house elves know if you need anything."

"Of course," Sirius said. Hermione and Harry looked confused about "house elves," so he made a mental note to explain that to them later. 

Neville gestured to them and they followed him into the house. It was enormous, richly furnished in Restoration Style, and had more of the appearance of a National Trust Property than a home anyone lived in. Their footsteps echoed through the rooms as they passed (except for those of Harry, who was wearing trainers), the sound only vaguely deadened by the vibrant, preservation-charmed tapestries covering many of the walls for warmth and colour. 

"This place is amazing, Neville," Harry said after the third room.

Hermione nodded excitedly. "It must be like living in a museum!"

"It is," Neville said. "I'm not allowed to touch anything or make too much noise. Your arrival here is the most interesting thing that's happened in months."

"I'm sorry," Hermione said. Sirius frowned, but before he could say anything, Harry spoke up. 

"In our defence," Harry said, "we are pretty interesting." He leaned toward Neville and whispered conspiratorially, "We're pirates ."

"You're…what?" Neville asked.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "We're not pirates."

"We're definitely pirates," Harry said. "Just you wait and we'll all do something pirate-y and amazing together."

Neville sighed. "I don't think I'm up for anything amazing. My whole family thought I was a squib till a few years ago."

"A squib?" Hermione asked. 

"Someone born to a magical family but without magic," Neville said. "They're usually disowned and sent to live in the muggle world."

"That's awful!" Hermione put her free hand up to her mouth and gripped Harry's arm tightly with her right hand. "How could they?"

The other boy shrugged. "It's just how things are done."

"Well, we won't turn our backs on you no matter what," Harry said. "You're my godbrother, which means you're family. I mean, Hermione's parents don't have magic and we're never going to turn our backs on them."

"Thanks." Neville looked down at his feet again. "You might not feel that way after we get to Hogwarts, though. I can barely get my father's wand to work. Gran says I'll get better once I'm at Hogwarts, but I'm afraid I won't."

"Wait a second," Sirius said. "You're using Frank's wand?" 

"Yes, Lord Black," Neville said. "Gran said it's the best wand I could have."

"Call me Sirius," Sirius said. "Lord Black was an arsehole."

Neville blushed at the language. 

"Anyway," Sirius said. "You really should have your own wand. I had to use another wand while I was on the run and I was lousy with it. You need something matched to you at this stage in your magical development."

Neville's shoulders slumped. "I knew I wasn't good enough for my father's wand."

"That's not it at all!" Sirius said. "You could be Merlin himself and not be able to cast well with someone else's wand."

Hermione nodded seriously. "Mr. Ollivander told us much the same thing, and he's the expert." She spoke the last bit with an emphasis that was uniquely hers.

"Oh," Neville said. "So I'm never going to be able to use my father's wand or do magic properly."

"You'll never be able to use your father's wand because you need your own," Sirius said. "Once you have that, I'll bet you'll be a great wizard."

"Gran will never let me get one, though," Neville said.

"Don't worry," Harry said. "Remember what I told you? We're pirates . We're going to sneak you out, get you a wand, and get you back here with no one the wiser, because that's what pirates would do."

"They would?" Confusion, fear, and optimism warred for control of the boy's features.

Hermione sighed. "The jury is still out on that, but we'll definitely help you. We need a plan, first, though. We can't just spirit him away right this instant."

"You're right," Harry said. "A plan will make this even more awesome and pirate-y."

Sirius smiled sadly. "Lily always made us think through our plans, too."

"Good for her!" Hermione said. 

"You're…serious about helping me?" Neville asked.

Harry and Hermione groaned. 

"What?" Neville asked.

"I," Sirius said, "could not possibly be more Sirius."

Neville blinked. "Did you just…"

"Yes, he did," Hermione said resignedly.

"You really aren't a Lord, are you?" Neville asked. "You're just…a man who has the title. I have literally never heard a Lord make a pun about themselves like that."

Sirius grinned and clapped him on the back. "I knew I liked you! I'm claiming you as my god-nephew."

"Is that…um…"

"A thing?" Harry helpfully supplied.

"Um…yes," Neville said. "Is that a…thing?"

"It is now," Sirius said. 

Neville took his guests on a lovely, if slightly harrowing, tour of the greenhouses after that, and then to an elegant and stuffy luncheon with Augusta. A few days later, he took up the habit of a morning walk around the entire estate after working in the greenhouses.

The delay was the key, Sirius had told him. It obscured the cause-effect relationship of events. 

No one had ever told Neville such a thing before. It was clearly the sort of thing that good boys weren't supposed to know. 

Neville was starting to think there was a lot more to life than being a good boy. 

Ted Tonks looked at the piece of parchment in his hand and smiled grimly. The noose was tightening around whoever it was who'd written the Adventures of Harry Potter series. The publisher had just caved and passed him their payment information at Gringotts. The goblins would demand a fee, of course, and he'd have to follow their lengthy process (including appeals, because those gave them the opportunity to collect fees from both sides of the dispute), but now it was just a matter of time. 

Sirius and Hestia stared down the short walkway at the battered old door of a battered old townhouse. "I appreciate," Sirius said, "that you're not making any comments about it 'not looking that bad.'"

The witch shot him a withering glare. "I know I'm new at this, but I've taken lots of courses on cursebreaking and I understand the dangers involved. I would assume this place could kill me if it were painted with pastel flowers all over it."

"I should do that," Sirius said thoughtfully. "I almost hope that Walburga's ghost is still around so she could see what this house looks like in pink."

"Later." Hestia rolled her eyes. "Cursebreaking first, then painting."

"I'll hold you to that." Sirius held out his arm. "Come on, I'll take you across the ward line."

Hestia rested her left hand on Sirius's arm and drew her wand in her right. They nodded to each other and walked carefully up the walkway. A faint sensation washed over them as they walked, almost like a push to turn around and come back later.

"That wasn't as bad as you said the wards fel—" was as far as Hestia got before another sensation crashed into them, this one of terror thick as tar and a promise of certain miserable death. She stumbled, but Sirius clamped his arm down on hers and brought his left arm around to help keep her upright. The feeling passed after a moment and Hestia slowly straightened up.

"Welcome, Hestia Jones, to the House of Black," Sirius said formally. "I grant you safe passage through our wards." Then, more conversationally, he continued, "That first one was just the muggle repelling ward. The second one is the main line. How are you holding up?"

"Merlin!" Hestia said. "I've never felt anything like that."

"This house has been the seat of an old, Dark, and powerful family for several centuries," Sirius said. "Few places could support such wards and fewer still families would think they would be acceptable to use."

"Well, that's good, at least." Hestia shook herself. "Are there any other defences like that?"

"No, they put everything into that one main line," Sirius said. "Secondary ward schemes would have added complexity, but at the cost of weakening the strength of the main line."

"That's sensible. What about active defences, like magical creatures forced into guard duty?"

"There shouldn't be any." Sirius paused. "Oh, bollocks. There might be one. Kreacher? Are you there?"

There was no reply.

Sirius sighed. "Kreacher, if you can hear me, appear before us and show yourself."

A wizened little house elf popped up in front of them, a snarl on his lips and malice in his eyes. "Kreacher obeys useless, disobedient Master."

"He gets his nastiness from my mother," Sirius told Hestia. "I'd tell the wretched thing to go slam his head into a wall, but he'd probably enjoy it."

"Sirius!" Hestia said. "There's no call for torturing him."

The elf sniffed disdainfully at Hestia. "Kreacher does not need the help of a blood traitor whore. Torturing Kreacher would be the only thing disgraceful Master has ever done to make himself worthy to be a Black."

Hestia's jaw dropped. 

"Welcome to my childhood," Sirius told her. 

Hestia shuddered. "Merlin! What is wrong with him?"

"He spent too much time with my bitch of a mother," Sirius said. 

Kreacher raised a shaky hand at Sirius. "Kreacher would punish wicked, debauched Master for that, but Kreacher cannot. Kreacher only wishes Mistress Walburga had used the Cruciatus Curse on blood traitor Master more when he was younger. Master might be less of a disgrace otherwise."

"Still think I shouldn't torture him?" Sirius asked. "It would be nice to see him get the same treatment he used to cheer when I got."

"Don't," Hestia said. "Think of what Harry and Hermione would say if they knew."

Sirius sighed. "Damn it, you're right."

"Blood traitor Master is too weak to be a proper Black," Kreacher sneered. "Remember how Kreacher laughed when Master hit his head on the hall table while Mistress Walburga had him under the Cruciatus? Master bled enough to soak two washcloths." The elf sighed. "It was worth having to clean them. Will Master punish Kreacher now?"

Sirius nodded. "Bring yourself enough food and water for the week and go up to the attic. Kill all of the spiders up there without damaging the house and do not come out until the week is done."

"Kreacher does the will of useless, stupid blood traitor Master." The old elf popped away again, leaving only silence.

Hestia stared at the ground where the elf had stood. "That is one of the most disturbing things that's ever happened to me."

"He's pretty disturbed," Sirius said. "I'm tempted to put him to death. If I promised to put him on the wall with the others, he'd probably jump at the opportunity."

"With what others?" Hestia asked. 

"Oh, right, I forgot most people don't have a wall of house elf heads in their house. It's a Black family tradition to mount a house elf's head on the wall of the manor when he can no longer be of service."

"So, in that house…"

"The house elf heads line the stairs to the first floor," Sirius said.

"I'm starting to see why you suggested a bomb as an option to deal with this place," Hestia said. 

"That's absolutely still an option."

"No." Hestia set her jaw. "We are going to cleanse the taint on this house and show the world that you, as Lord Black, can clean up your family's mess."

"You're probably right," Sirius said. "And part of that mess is Kreacher. I can't keep him. He'll hurt someone the first time I give him ambiguous instructions, and he's going to keep goading me into torturing him in the meantime."

"I do agree about that. That elf scares me. I have no idea who would trade you for him, though."

"I do. Do you have an owl?"

"Yes," Hestia replied. "We don't have to do it now, though. I'm on the clock and I don't want to waste your money. "

Sirius pointed at the house. "That house is full of Dark objects and probably some Dark creatures attracted by the old, Dark magic swirling around us, but the most dangerous thing in there is something that can think for itself and hates us. We need to get rid of it or it's going to kill us."

"But…it's a house elf," Hestia said. "How can it be the most dangerous thing in Black Manor?"

Sirius laughed mirthlessly. "I'll show you. Kreacher?"

The elf returned to his spot in front of them. "Pathetic wastrel Master calls Kreacher?"

"Get Hestia a glass of water." 

The elf disappeared and reappeared a moment later, a glass of water in hand. Before Hestia could reach for it, Sirius told him to place it carefully on the ground and then repeated his previous orders regarding the attic. Once the elf was gone, Sirius said, "Can you cast poison detection charms on it?"

"Of course," Hestia said. She cast a few charms on it to look for poisons, toxins and venoms, and lethal contaminants like heavy metals, but they all came up negative. The biological test, though…

"Rat droppings." Hestia's face turned green. "There are dried rat droppings in that glass."

"What happens when one of the kids asks for water?" Sirius asked. 

"I'll get my owl," Hestia said. 

Halfway across London, a middle-aged woman giggled, surprising herself with the sound. "Oh, you flatterer, you," she told the man standing at her Ministry-standard desk.

"Nonsense, my dear lady!" he exclaimed. "I have travelled to all ends of this fine Earth and yours is the warmest smile ever to grace my humble personage. And I, as you may know, am an expert on smiles."

"I can't argue that," she said. 

"No one can, my dear," the man replied, flashing her a truly dazzling smile. "Now, about that old reprobate Sirius Black…."

Chapter Text

Sirius toyed idly with the filigreed edge of the napkin in his lap while he sipped at his delicious, overpriced barrel-aged Manhattan. Approximately five minutes after their appointed meeting time of half three, Lucius Malfoy sat down across from him. 

"I'm surprised," Malfoy drawled, "that Montague's allows animals to sit at the table."

"You never know." Sirius put down his drink and gestured expansively with both hands. "Perhaps some of their clientele feels more comfortable with a dog at the table than a Death Eater."

"I was Imperius'd, you know," Malfoy said stiffly.

"Ah, individuals weak-willed enough that they could be induced to commit horrible crimes." Sirius nodded sagely. "Much safer to be around. I withdraw my previous comment, then."

Malfoy glared at him and didn't bother to thank the waiter who brought over his Tom Collins. "Playing at witticisms does not become you, Black. I'm only here because Narcissa said you had something that vaguely interested her."

"Ah, that," Sirius said dismissively, doing his best not to snort at Malfoy's prevarication. The blonde bigot wouldn't have rearranged his afternoon schedule on a moment's notice for something in which his wife was only mildly interested. Besides, Sirius remembered family gatherings with Narcissa when he was little. "Now that I'm safely ensconced as Lord Black, I find myself with a house elf who…isn't a good fit for my needs right now. I'm tempted to just kill him and mount him on the wall like he wants me to, but finding a new house elf would be time-consuming. Then, I recalled Narcissa's fondness for the elf and thought I'd offer you a trade: one of your house elves for Kreacher."

"Interesting." Lucius betrayed no emotions. "And why should I be interested in an elderly house elf like Kreacher?"

" You shouldn't be," Sirius said. "Your wife, on the other hand…"

"She is irrationally fond of the old thing." Lucius rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to trade you a healthy young house elf for him, though."

Sirius shrugged. "Then find me someone who will and buy him from them."

"That's not the problem. It's a terrible deal. He's simply not worth it." Lucius took a long pull from his drink.

"I suspect he is worth it, at least to you." Sirius paused to take a drink of his Manhattan. "Otherwise I wouldn't have invited you here…and you wouldn't have come."

"I…could perhaps be persuaded to take you up on your offer," Lucius allowed. 

"Would a thousand galleons be sufficient persuasion?" Sirius asked. 

"No, but five thousand might," Lucius replied.

Sirius snorted, earning a dirty look from a passing waiter. "I could purchase a house elf for twice that. Fifteen hundred."

"I could be persuaded down to three thousand," Lucius said. 

"Sure, because you'd be robbing me blind," Sirius replied. "Two thousand, and you're still robbing me half-blind."

"Two thousand it is," Lucius said. "And yes, I am robbing you half-blind and enjoying every minute of it."

Sirius sighed and drank some more of his Manhattan. Dealing with Lucius was annoying, but at least it would avoid any awkward questions from the kids about the fate of the house elf. 

Hermione's fork clattered down to her plate as her head jerked around to stare at Sirius. "You sold a thinking creature and bought another one?" 

"They're house elves." Sirius didn't need his Grim side's enhanced senses to notice how still everyone else had gotten at the table. "All of the old families have them, so trades aren't unheard of."

"That's…" Harry shook his head. "That's slavery. You mean Neville has them, too?"

Hestia, who had once again stayed for dinner, cut in. "House elves all need to bond with wizarding families. I read about them in my supplemental History of Magic readings for my N.E.W.T.S."

"That's as may be," Isaac said, "but do they get to choose with whom they bond? Because it sounds like the house elves today didn't."

"Well, not usually, no," Hestia said. 

"And do they get paid?" Hermione asked. 

"House elves get insulted if you offer them wages," Sirius said. 

" Really ?" Miranda arched her eyebrows. 

"Lily tried to get the Hogwarts house elves to demand wages once," Sirius said. "They got scared of her and asked Professor McGonagall to come down to the kitchens to take her away."

"My Mum was so cool," Harry said. Hermione high-fived him.

"It occurs to me," Isaac said, "that we could probably have some of our questions answered by the house elf in question. Could we meet him at some point?"

"Sure," Sirius said. "Dobby, can you hear me?"

A wizened little thing about a yard tall appeared behind Sirius with a soft popping sound. It had large, batlike ears and bulging green eyes, and wore a crude toga made from a ratty old pillowcase. "New Master cal—" He froze when he noticed everyone else in the room. 

"Hello, Dobby," Isaac said. 

"Is Dobby being allowed to talk to muggles?" Dobby asked Sirius.

"Of course!" Sirius said. "Everyone at this table is a friend of mine, and Harry there is my godson and heir."

"Oh!" Dobby said. "Hello muggleses! Dobby has never been allowed to talk to a muggle before."

"It's very nice to meet you, Dobby," Miranda said. "Could we ask you a few questions about yourself?"

"You…want to know about Dobby ?" the elf asked.

"We certainly do," Hermione said. 

"New Master knows the most wonderful muggleses!" Dobby said. "No one has ever wanted to know anything about Dobby." 

"Dobby," Isaac said, "you call Sirius your 'master.' Does that mean you have to do everything he says?"

"Of course, because Dobby is a good elf. Dobby tries to be a good elf, anyway. Bad old masters thought Dobby was a bad elf and made him punish himself lots."

"Punish yourself?" Isaac asked. 

"Yes, like telling Dobby to iron his ears or take things from the oven without oven mitts. Please don't tell Dobby to do that." The elf paused. "Dobby shouldn't be asking Master to do anything. Dobby will punish himself right now because he is a good elf!" He ran to the nearest dining room wall and started banging his head on the wall.

All of the adults, even Sirius, were too stunned to react, but Harry launched himself out of his chair and tackled Dobby. "Stop!" he shouted. "Don't do that!"

Hermione was right behind them and wrapped both of them in a tight, constricting hug. "Stop, please stop," she said.

"Good God," Isaac said. Miranda reached over and squeezed his hand, tears in her eyes.

"Dobby will stop punishing himself, Young Master," Dobby said, his voice muffled by the pile of children atop him.

Hermione, being the last person into the pile, was the first person to get up, and she helped Harry and Dobby back to their feet. "Good," she said as she did so. "Do you promise?"

"Dobby promises Young M—"

"Thank you!" Harry threw his arms around Dobby and hugged him. 

"Dobby is never being hugged before," he said. "Dobby has the bestest new family in the whole world!"

Sirius smiled at his godson and the little witch he was starting to think of as his own, too. "I think it's the bestest family in the whole world, too, Dobby."

Once Harry let him go, Isaac spoke up again. "Dobby, we're happy to have you as part of the family, but would you rather be free?"

The little elf's ears flattened down and he backed away a step, cowering. "Is Dobby being a bad elf? Dobby is sorry! Please don't send Dobby away to another family!"

"It's alright," Hestia said quickly. "Nobody is going to send Dobby…you away."

"Then why ask Dobby if he want to be free?" Dobby asked, still nervous. "Nobody free good elves."

"You don't want to be free?" Miranda asked. 

"House elves have to serve wizards and witcheses," Dobby said. "We needs their magic or we dies."

"You drain our magic?" Hermione asked. 

"No, just what you lose anyway," Dobby replied. 

"All magicals give off magic constantly," Hestia said. "That's how we can tell which children are witches and wizards. And no spell is perfectly efficient in terms of converting magical power to the result you're trying to achieve. House elves survive on what leaks off."

Isaac blinked. "The Third Law of Thermodynamics applies to magic, too?"

Everyone besides Hermione and Miranda stared at him blankly. 

"Sorry, another time, maybe," Isaac said. "So, Dobby, am I correct in saying that you need to serve a magical family to survive, but that you don't need to be bound to them to do it?"

"Dobby thinks so," Dobby said. "Most elveses want the security of the bond so we knows we won't run out of magic, but as long as a witch or wizard have thingses for Dobby to do, Dobby will be fine."

"Then what if Sirius freed you and hired you to work for him, instead?"

"Oooh, then Dobby could be a free elf and not starve to death!" Dobby said. "Dobby would like that very much."

The Grangers and Harry all turned to stare expectantly at Sirius, who took a deep breath and pulled off his sock. "Here you go, Dobby," the man said. "How would you like to work for me, instead?"

"Dobby is…free?" Dobby looked up at Sirius and burst into tears. "Thank you! You is best Master in the whole world! Dobby would never want to work for anyone else."

"Great!" Sirius said. "How about four galleons a day, weekends and bank holidays off, and I pay for any medical bills you have?"

"Four galleons a day?" Dobby scoffed. "Dobby take no more than a galleon a month."

"That's…not how negotiations work," Miranda said, but Dobby ignored her. 

"And what is 'off'?" the elf asked. 

"Um…vacation," Sirius said. "You know, time when you don't have to work?"

"Dobby not be wanting vacation from helping Great Master!" Dobby said. "Dobby willing to take two whole galleons a month if Master doesn't make him take vacations."

"Are you sure?" Isaac asked. 

Dobby nodded vigorously. 

"Alright," Sirius said. "Two galleons a month and no vacation days. Let me know if you change your mind later."

"Dobby agree!" the little elf said. He enthusiastically shook Sirius's hand and ribbons of bright green magical light wove themselves around their arms.

"Does Master have any new orders for Dobby?" he asked. 

"No, please just keep working on the attic," Sirius said. 

"Oh, wait," Hestia said.

Dobby shot Sirius a glance and he nodded, so the elf turned to her. "Yes, Kind Friend of Master's?"

"Do you want something better to wear?" she asked. "I meant to ask you about that earlier and forgot."

"You cares about what Dobby wears?" he asked. "Dobby truly has best family in the whole world! Dobby can make himself new clothes if Master gives him permission."

"Of course!" Sirius said. "Please take four galleons from my vault and buy yourself whatever fabric and supplies you need."

"Thank you!" Dobby bounced excitedly. "Dobby do that when the shops are open tomorrow. Goodnight, wonderful new family!" He waved and popped away.

"Well…" Miranda sighed into the silence. "That was certainly something, wasn't it?"

"Indeed," Isaac said. "Sirius, I can't imagine buying him was cheap, but I appreciate you doing the right thing there."

"I'd never given it much thought," he said. "All of the elves at Hogwarts were happy and would never have wanted to be free, and most families treat their elves well, too. I should have guessed the Malfoys wouldn't, though, and I can't say the little guy doesn't deserve a salary."

"Thank you," Harry said. "I'm glad you did that." The Grangers nodded, too. 

As had become their habit after eating dinner at the Grangers', Hestia accompanied Sirius back to his flat to use his floo. It was a cold evening in February, but Warming Charms took care of that problem and the walk was otherwise quite nice. Hestia waited until they were out of earshot of the house before speaking. 

"I can't decide," she said, "whether you're incredibly noble or ludicrously indulgent."

"I have no idea," Sirius replied. "Let me know when you figure it out."

Hestia sputtered. "You have no idea? That was two thousand galleons , Sirius, on top of losing Kreacher."

"I know, I know." He paused to wait as an old muggle woman wrapped up in a woollen coat and headscarf trundled by them. "I was on the fence about what to do until Dobby said he actually wanted to be free. Merlin, Hestia, I spent six years locked up. I can't do that to someone else just because it'll cost me money."

They walked along in silence for a moment, with only the sound of the city around them and the occasional splash of their boots in a puddle, before Hestia spoke again. "Sirius, are we monsters? I never even thought about house elves like that, but if the Grangers and Harry were right…what else am I missing? What else am I blind to because that's just how I grew up?"

"I wish I knew," Sirius said. "I'd feel worse, but Kreacher damn well paid me back for any times people mistreated him, so I'm willing to call at least that one even."

"I envy your ability to not dwell on this," Hestia said drily. "It's driving me spare."

Sirius shrugged. "I spent six years being forced by Dementors to do nothing but dwell on horrible things. Honestly, I'm sick of it."

"Oh." She fell silent again.

"I swear I didn't say that just to make you feel bad," Sirius said after a moment. "I was in Azkaban. It was awful. I'm now focused on Harry and Hermione. That's it. I'm not trying to set myself up as worthy of pity or admiration."

"You are , though," Hestia said softly. "Most wizards would have come out of that experience as bitter, angry shells of themselves. You came out of it caring for those children and willing to spend thousands of galleons to do what you think is right. You're one wizard in a million, do you know that?"

Sirius shook his head. "I've done too many terrible and stupid things to deserve that praise."

"Even if you have, which I'm not sure I believe, you're not that man anymore," Hestia replied. 

"You have to say that," Sirius said with a smirk. "I'm paying you."

The witch rolled her eyes. "If I had any sense about that sort of thing, would I have stood up to Narcissa?"

"Good point. How were you not in Gryffindor?"

"I had some friends in Hufflepuff and begged the hat to be with them," Hestia said. 

"I see," Sirius said. "Anyway, in response to your earlier question, I'm just going to keep doing what I'm doing until Hermione or Harry point out a problem with it. Realistically, I'm fairly clever with charms and runes, but I'm no moral philosopher. If generations of wizards and witches haven't figured it out, I'm probably not going to. So I'll content myself with helping the next generation sort it out."

"That seems like a good way to approach it," Hestia said. "We can't live second-guessing ourselves all the time."

They walked the rest of the way in companionable silence. When Hestia said "goodnight" right before she floo'd home, Sirius had to battle back the temptation to hug her. From the way her arms twitched toward him for a moment, he wondered if she was fighting that same temptation. 

That night, just before they started brushing their teeth, Harry whispered to Hermione to stay awake for awhile instead of going to sleep. She raised her eyebrows, but nodded. An hour later, after Isaac and Miranda had gone to bed, Harry crept out of his bedroom and knocked softly on Hermione's door. She opened it wearing a thick pink nightgown and an expression of curiosity on her face. He motioned for her to follow him back to his room, which was further away from her parents' room, and she did so. 

"What's going on?" she asked as soon as he closed his door. 

"One sec," Harry said. "Dobby, if you can hear me, please come here as quietly as you can."

The elf popped on Harry's bed a moment later. "Hello, Young Master Harry Potter and Young Mistress Hermione Granger," he whispered. "How can Dobby be helping you?'

Hermione gasped, but Harry just nodded. "Hi, Dobby. That's actually what I was hoping to talk to you about. Earlier, I thought you were going to say something like that about Hermione, so that's why I tackled you when I said 'thank you.' I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Young Master is so kind to worry about Dobby!" the little elf bounced a little on the bed. "Old Young Master used to laugh when Dobby got hurt."

"We've met Draco," Harry said, "and he's an absolute arsehole."

"Harry!" Hermione hissed. "Language!"

"Fine. How would you describe him, then?"

"He's a…deeply unpleasant boy who's pretentious, hypocritical, bigoted, and self-centred," Hermione said. 

"Exactly. So he's an arsehole," Harry said.

"Prat!" Hermione smacked Harry on the arm, but she was fighting a smile as she did it.

"Anyway," Harry said to Dobby, who was watching the back-and-forth with wide eyes, "does that mean that you can see our magical betrothal?"

Dobby nodded. "Yes, Dobby can. Is a weak betrothal, probably because you is so young, but Dobby can sees it."

"I was wondering about that," Harry said. "Could you not tell anyone, please, and not refer to Hermione as 'Young Mistress'? Everyone thinks Hermione and I successfully broke our bond, and we don't want to get in trouble."

The elf cocked his head at them. "This is yous bond after you partially broke it? Young Master and Mistress must love each other very much."

Harry felt his cheeks warming up and, even in the dim light of the nightlight, he could see Hermione's were aflame. "She's my best friend."

"And he's mine," Hermione added.

"Dobby can keep that quiet unless Master asks him directly," Dobby said. "Dobby cannot lie to Master." 

"That fine," Harry said. "Thank you for hiding us."

"Dobby is happy to help, Young Master."

"You really don't have to call me that," Harry said.

"But you is Young Master. What else would Dobby call you?"

"Um…'Harry'?"

The elf shook his head. "Is not proper. You is Young Master, so Dobby calls you Young Master. Young Mistress isn't technically Young Mistress yet, so Dobby can wait on that. Dobby hopes she becomes Young Mistress soon, though. Dobby thinks you must love each other very much and Dobby has never had a family where Master and Mistress loved each other like that, but he hears from older elves that it being nice."

Hermione gasped. "That's awful! None of your families have loved each other?"

"Dobby is only being a hundred years old and has only served Malfoys. They marry for moneys, not for love."

"It's like in those old books," Harry said. 

"A hundred years ago those books weren't old," Hermione said. "It sounds like the Malfoys still do that. No wonder they're so wealthy and hateful."

Dobby nodded. "Nobody mourn a dead Malfoy, not even live Malfoys."

"That's awful," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Harry said. "That's why we're going to break them one day: so they can't hurt anyone else like they want to hurt us, not even themselves."

Hermione nodded firmly. "That sounds like a good plan to me."

"Dobby is looking forward to serving Young Master and Hermione Granger," Dobby said with a smile. "Does yous need anythings else right now?"

"No, thank you, Dobby," Harry said. "I'm sorry if we interrupted your sleep."

"Harry Potter is truly a great wizard to think of Dobby's sleep!" Dobby said. "House elveses sleep like catses, though. We can gets up quickly if Master needs us."

"That's good," Harry said. "Goodnight, Dobby." 

Hermione nodded. "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" Dobby popped away.

After he left, Hermione sighed. 

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked. 

"No. It's just…do you think Dobby was right about us loving each other that much?" she asked hesitantly. The bright red blush of her cheeks was once again amplified by the dim yellow light of the nightlight.

Harry shrugged, a treacherous warming coming to his own cheeks. "I'm only ten years old and I have no idea." Her face started to fall, but he continued, "I'll bet I do love you, though. It's not like in all of those old poems or anything where my heart starts beating fast or I get tongue-tied. It's the opposite. I feel peaceful when I'm with you, like I could be anywhere in the world and, as long as you were there, it would feel like home."

She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. "Oh, Harry, if that's not love, I don't care what is."

"Yeah," he said into her bushy brown hair, "I don't think I do, either."

Chapter Text

The next morning, Sirius emerged from the floo and bowed to his hosts. "Thank you for your kind welcome," he said. 

"Oh, Stubby," Pandora stepped forward and pulled him into a hug. "You need never be formal with us." She was as lovely as ever, but more drawn than he remembered from Hogwarts, as if she had somehow stretched some fundamental part of herself too thin. Her long blonde hair was bound up in a messy bun behind her head. 

Xenophilus shook his head. His shoulder-length white hair seemed to be in need of a good washing and his bright orange robes a good dirtying (the latter just to reduce the glare). "Oh, dear, dear me. He may not have shaken the aftereffects of Azkaban yet. Do you have plenty of moon frogs around your current domicile, old friend?" 

"I have no idea," Sirius said as he extricated himself from Pandora's embrace. He was tempted to ask if she thought he was really named 'Stubby,' but chose not to due to the risk that she might answer him.

Luna poked her head around the doorway into the floo room. "I don't think I've seen any when I've been at his flat."

"Then we should get him a moon frog attractor!" Xenophilus said. "It's the least we can do for the poor man. Why don't we give him ours? We can always make a new one."

"That's a lovely idea, dear," Pandora said.

"I'll get it!" Luna hurried off.

"Thank you for introducing her to your godson and his friend," Xeno said after Luna left. "She's been so happy since meeting them. Could you give me a hint about why I can't interview them, though? I hadn't intended on it, but once she told me not to, I got curious."

"I'm afraid not, sorry," Sirius said. 

Xeno shrugged. "Can't blame me for asking."

"Do be careful, my love," Pandora said. "Remember the fate of my namesake. Luna is happy. Don't ask any questions that might change that."

"You're not at all curious or concerned?" Xeno asked.

Pandora patted him on the cheek. "Of course I am, you silly snorkack. I'm just convinced these children mean our daughter no harm. If trouble finds them anyway, then they probably need Luna's help as much as Luna needs theirs."

"That's a good point," Xeno said.

"For what it's worth," Sirius added, "we're doing our best to keep trouble from finding them."

Pandora smiled sadly. "You know you're doomed to fail, though, right?"

Sirius opened his mouth to disagree with her, but then an image of Harry and Hermione on the sofa as they decided to fix the Wizarding World themselves (and get as many books as they needed to do so) popped into his head. "Oh, Merlin, we are, aren't we?" he said. 

"Don't worry too much," Pandora said. "As long as we keep teaching them well, I think they'll do just fine. In fact, I was just thinking last week about how lucky I was to be here to help Luna and watch her discover new things, and I resolved to teach her as many useful spells as I can as soon as she gets her wand. I'm starting with the Featherlight and Shrinking Charms so she can manage her trunk when she goes to Hogwarts eventually."

"That's a good idea," Sirius said, though he had doubts about the ability of common luggage management charms to keep Luna out of trouble. "In fact, that's the main reason I wanted to stop by. Her birthday is coming up soon, isn't it?" 

"On March 15th, in just a fortnight," Xeno said.

"Perfect," Sirius said. "One of the kids' other friends didn't get the chance to go to Ollivander's, himself, and I thought I'd volunteer to take both of them along with Luna's new friends, then stop for ice cream to celebrate Luna's birthday."

"That would be lovely!" Pandora said. "Do you need any help managing the children?"

Sirius knew he absolutely needed help managing the children, but also knew from dealing with Pandora in Hogsmeade that she would need at least as much managing as the children would, if not more. "No, thank you, I've got it covered."

"Excellent!" Xeno said. "I think Luna will love it. It's been too long since she had a friend to celebrate a birthday with."

Luna returned just then and presented an object about the size of two cricket balls to Sirius. "I found it!" she said. "Just put it somewhere out-of-the-way in your house and it'll attract moon frogs for you."

Sirius stared at the object in his hands. "Um…so moon frogs are attracted to a small glass pig full of sparkling dust?"

Luna and Xeno nodded enthusiastically. 

"Oh. Well, then, thank you!" Sirius said, doing his best to return their enthusiasm before changing the topic. "So, Luna, would you like to go to Diagon Alley with Harry and Hermione on your birthday? One of their other friends will be there, too, and we think you'll get along well. We can get you both wands and then ice cream to celebrate."

"Ice cream, a wand, and a new friend?" Luna grinned. "Best birthday ever!"

Once he returned home, Sirius tossed some floo powder in his fireplace, said, "Hestia's Hideaway," and stuck his head in. About half a minute later, his floo call connected and he saw Hestia's living room though a haze of green fire. The witch herself was there, wearing a bathrobe and holding a cup of tea. 

"Sirius? Is everything alright?" she asked. "I wasn't expecting to hear from you today."

"Everything's fine," he said. "I'd like to hire you to help me wrangle four children on a trip to Diagon Alley in a fortnight."

She raised her eyebrows. "You do realise I'm a cursebreaker, right?"

"Yes," Sirius replied. "My first choice would be a babysitter, but I don't know any and a cursebreaker seemed like the next best thing, followed closely by a dragon handler or an Auror."

Hestia stared at him for a moment before bursting into clear, musical laughter. "Oh, very well," she said. "I'll do it."

"Thank you," Sirius said sincerely.

The next night, while Sirius and Hestia were walking Luna back to his flat after their weekly dinner with the Grangers, she stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk about fifty yards from the door of his apartment building and stared at a man in a yellow-and-white striped trenchcoat standing near it. "That man over there has more wrackspurts than anyone I've ever seen," she said.

"Wait, what are wrackspurts?" Hestia asked. 

"They're invisible winged flies that float through your ears and fuzzy up your brain," Luna said as the man began to walk toward them. 

"Wand out," Sirius said quietly but firmly. "Draw it subtly and hide it in your hand behind Luna's back."

Hestia began coughing so hard she bent nearly double. When she came up, her wand was in the hand she had placed on Luna's back.

"What about you, Sirius Black?" Luna asked as they started walking again.

"I won't draw till he does," Sirius said. "Maybe not even then. Don't be scared, Luna."

"I'm not scared at all," she said. "Unless he's got heliopaths for backup, that is. Those would scare me."

"Do you think he does?" Sirius asked, forcing himself to keep his tone conversational.

Luna screwed up her face in thought for a moment. "No, I'm pretty sure it's just him. He'd have fewer wrackspurts if he had heliopaths supporting him."

"Good," Sirius said. 

Hestia looked deeply confused, but didn't get a chance to say anything before the man closed in. 

"Good evening!" he said when he got to within about ten yards, flashing them a huge smile. Whoever he was, he had the best teeth Sirius had ever seen. "Tonight's your lucky night, good sir and lovely lady, because tonight's the night you first met me!"

Hestia's jaw dropped. "Gilderoy Lockhart! I am such a huge fan of yours!"

"Of course you are, my dear." The man's smile at her words gave Sirius an inexplicable urge to deck him. "And Lord Black, I am deeply impressed by your expedient of Polyjuicing young Harry here. No wonder no one has found him yet!"

Luna smiled brightly…too brightly, even for her. "I am a very sneaky Harry Potter indeed, Gilderoy Lockhart, but not as sneaky as you are clever!"

"But—" Hestia began. 

Sirius cut her off again. "It's been nice to meet you, Mr. Lockhart, but we really do need to get Harry to bed. Perhaps another time?"

"Or perhaps," Lockhart said with a flourish, "right now."

Sirius had fought fast wands during the war, like Snivellus or Dolohov, but the sheer speed with which Lockhart managed to draw a wand still surprised him. Only the muggle "prestidigitator" he'd seen with Lily and James once as a laugh had moved his hands faster. Fortunately, Lockhart lacked the killer instinct of a Death Eater and came up into a fighting stance to aim his wand first, rather than firing spells as he raised it. 

That split second was the opening Sirius needed. He transformed into a Grim as Lockhart cast the first Confundus Charm at the space where his chest had been, and before the man could cast a second spell, Sirius lunged forward and sank his teeth all the way into the man's hand.

Lockhart screamed as Sirius whipped his head to the left and right. On that second pull to the right, his pinky and ring fingers came off in Sirius's mouth along with his wand. That was the moment Sirius had been waiting for. The Grim spat them out, transformed back into a human, and hit the still-screaming man with an uppercut that sent him sprawling onto his back.

"Muggle Notice-Me-Not Charm now!" he told Hestia as he drew his wand and cast a silent Full Body-Bind Curse on Lockhart.

The now very pale witch complied and wove her wand around them. In a moment, the handful of concerned faces at windows around them disappeared to go back about their business, the scene on the street forgotten. When she was done, she turned back to Sirius, who had just barely finished using the Wiping Charm to clean the blood from his face. 

"What in Merlin's name just happened?" she asked. "Why did a celebrity try to attack us? How did you dodge that? I got an 'O' on my DADA NEWT and I didn't realise I was even in danger until that spell flew past my ear where your head had been."

"I trained as an Auror with James during the war," Sirius said. "That said, Lockjaw or whatever his name is was one of the fastest draws I've ever seen. If he had the killer instinct of someone like Severus Snape or Antonin Dolohov, he would have gotten me. I had a hunch he didn't, though. If that had been Snape or Dolohov, we wouldn't have known he was there until he started casting. This guy is used to manipulating people, but he's not used to fighting them."

"You are, though," Luna said matter-of-factly. "That was a very clever thing you did there."

"That…um…didn't bother you?" Sirius asked. 

She shrugged. "I've seen a lot of animals die in the wilderness on trips with Daddy. He was lucky you're not really a wolf or you'd have gone for his throat, not his hand. That always seemed like a painful way to die."

Hestia shuddered. "I can imagine. Now what do we do, though?"

"Now, we take Lockjaw here back to my flat and call Director Bones," Sirius said. "Something is seriously wrong here and I'm going to abuse my title for once and go straight to the top."

"Can I interrogate him for you?" Luna asked. "It would be ever so interesting."

"Not a chance," Sirius said, "though I am going to get you a special present for handling him so well. You didn't even blink when you agreed with his theory that you were really Harry."

"That's a trick I learnt from Daddy," Luna said. "Agree with people and you never know what they might tell you."

"How did you know he was up to something, though?" Hestia asked. 

"He was waiting all wrong," Luna said. "Most people look bored when they're waiting, but he looked tense."

" Mobilicorpus ," Sirius said, levitating the frozen man. As an afterthought, he pocketed his wand and vanished what was left of his two fingers. "That's incredibly perceptive, Luna. You take after your father in that regard. He often seemed distracted, but nobody ever got the drop on him and I learnt to pay attention to him when he said he saw Slytherins up to no good."

"Thank you!" The girl beamed at the compliment. 

Hestia cast another Notice-Me-Not Charm on the floating man and Sirius led them all back to his flat. Once they were safely inside with the door closed, the older witch leaned heavily against the door while the younger wrapped her arms around Sirius's waist.

"Thank you for protecting me from that wizard," Luna said. "I knew you would, but I was still a little scared. He smiled too much."

"It's alright to be scared," Sirius said. "I was, too. You did a great job."

"I did, didn't I?" Luna released Sirius and smiled. "I know Harry Potter isn't really the character from the books, but I'm starting to feel like I'm in them. It's scary, but exciting, too."

"We'll try to keep it boring for you from now on," Sirius said. "Could you maybe downplay this to your parents? I don't want them to keep you from visiting again."

Luna shrugged. "It's not like I was ever in any danger. You had him under control and Hestia Jones had her wand drawn already. She was a bit distracted by wrackspurts, too, but I was ready to punch him in a much more painful spot than you bit him in to buy her the time to cast a spell."

"Um…that's good." Sirius instinctively crossed his legs a little.

The little girl grinned, which somehow made him want to cross his legs even more, but then her eyes focused on the fireplace mantle. "Oh, you put up the moon frog attractor!"

Hestia blinked. "The what ?"

"It attracts moon frogs, which help drive away dreams of Dark places like Azkaban," Luna said.

"It's the small glass pig full of sparkling dust," Sirius added. 

"Of course it is," Hestia said. "Did you give him that, Luna?"

Luna beamed at her and nodded.

"That was very…nice of you, dear," Hestia said.

Luna's smile got even bigger.

Sirius had to smile a little at that, too. "Yes, it was. I'd better call Amelia now, though. Hestia, are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she replied.

"Good enough," Sirius said, and threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire. "Amelia Bones's office."

He stuck his head in and was rewarded with the sight of an elderly wizard glaring at him. "It's after hours," he said. "Director Bones is finishing work and is not to be disturbed."

"Tell her the Lord Black was attacked by someone looking for Harry Potter just now," Sirius replied.

The man jumped to his feet so quickly he knocked over his chair. "Right away!" he said as he ran off. A moment later, the floo connection shifted around Sirius (a disorienting experience that made him appreciate that most people didn't have access to floo forwarding) and Amelia's office came into view. 

"What happened, Sirius?" Amelia asked. "Are you still in any danger?"

"I don't think so," Sirius said. "I need your help, though. I've got Gilderoy Lock-something here in a body bind and he said he was looking for Harry before he attacked me."

She stared at him. "If this is your idea of a joke…"

"I swear it's the truth," Sirius said.

"Bloody hell. Clear the floo, then. I'll be there shortly." 

"Will do." Sirius cut the connection. "Amelia's coming."

"The Director herself?" Hestia asked. 

"Someone who is evidently a celebrity is hunting down another celebrity," Sirius said. "She has to be involved."

The witch sighed. "My life is like this now, isn't it?" 

"You've accumulated a lot of wrackspurts tonight, Hestia Jones," Luna said. "Sirius Black is an excellent wrackspurt repellent, though. He hardly has any now, even though I think he had a lot in the past. If you spend more time with him, I think he can help you drive them away."

Hestia's cheeks pinked, but before Sirius could ponder that the floo flared to life again. "Permission to come through?" Amelia asked. 

"Boss, that's a warm scene!" another voice said.

"I'm not some helpless bureaucrat, Savage," she said.

Sirius tapped the runes on the fireplace and the older witch stepped smoothly through. Two men in Auror robes followed her. 

"Lord Black," Amelia said, "these are Aurors Savage and Gillingham."

Sirius bowed. "I bid you welcome to my home," he said. "This is Hestia Jones, a freelance cursebreaker in my employ, and young Luna Lovegood. We have a man claiming to be Gilderoy Lock-something over there who inquired if Luna was a Polyjuiced Harry Potter and then attacked us."

Amelia looked over their captive. "Yes, I think that's really him, unless he's Polyjuiced. Damn it, this is going to be all over the papers. Lord Black, would you mind if we used separate rooms of your house to obtain witness statements?"

"Not at all," Sirius said. "Luna, do you want me to call your parents to be present?"

"No, thank you. I don't think that will be necessary." Luna fixed her slightly protuberant grey eyes on Amelia. "I trust Director Bones."

"You knew I was going to interview you?" Amelia seemed too surprised to stop herself from asking the question. 

"Of course," Luna said. "Why wouldn't you?"

"Go easy on her, alright?" Sirius asked.

"She's a minor who's not a suspect in any sort of crime," Amelia said stiffly. "What kind of person do you think I am?"

Sirius smirked. "I was talking to Luna."

"Don't worry," Luna said. "Poor Director Bones has enough wrackspurts already. I don't want to add to them."

Amelia blinked.

"Thank you, Luna," Sirius said.

Savage finished interviewing Sirius after about ten minutes, and they waited only another couple of minutes before Gillingham and Hestia came out of the kitchen where she'd been providing her story. It took another ten minutes for Amelia to emerge with Luna, though, and the Director looked a little glassy-eyed. 

"You're free to go, dear," she told Luna. The girl skipped to the fireplace, waved to everyone, and vanished in a puff of green flame.

"Are you alright, Amy?" Sirius asked. 

"That was the most comprehensive witness statement I've ever taken," Amelia said. "She went into incredible detail. She also spent nearly as much time asking me questions."

"She's a special one, our Luna," Sirius said. 

"That's putting it mildly." Amelia shook her head, as if dislodging cobwebs. "All right. Savage, Gillingham, we'll need to compare notes at the station, but I'm willing to take Lockhart in just on the strength of the girl's statement and Lord Black's summary. I'm classifying this case as high-security and I'll need you two to make an oath immediately not to reveal any of this information."

Savage scowled, but nodded. Gillingham said, "Oaths worry me, Boss. Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, it is," she said firmly.

"Thank you," Sirius said. "I appreciate the care for Harry's safety. When will you interrogate this guy? I'd like to take advantage of my lordship to attend."

"Probably tomorrow afternoon," Amelia said. "We'll have to give him time to acquire an attorney."

"I'll bring my own, as well," Sirius said. "I want this guy in Azkaban at a minimum ."

"I understand," Amelia said.

Sirius locked eyes with her. "I don't think you do. I'm not sure what this guy wanted to do to us tonight, but I promise you it wasn't the first time he's done it. He's a danger to all of us if he's freed."

She nodded. "I fear you're right."

After the Aurors left, Hestia sat down heavily on the sofa. "Do you have anything strong?" she asked.

"Isaac gave me some of his favourite Scotch whisky," Sirius replied. "I'll get you a glass."

A few minutes later, Sirius sat down next to her and handed her a healthy pour of Glenfarclas 25. "There you go, my dear." He held up his glass. "To surviving the evening."

"I'll drink to that," Hestia said, and they both took a healthy sip of the whisky.

Hestia shivered at the alcohol, then raised the glass and took a closer look at the liquid. "This is superb whisky. You say the muggles make it?"

"Indeed, and it's not even as expensive as some inferior Wizarding spirits," Sirius said. 

"Impressive." Hestia took another sip. "Damn it, Sirius. I don't want to just survive next time. I want to win ."

"Do you want me to train you?" Sirius asked. "There's a duelling room in the basement of 12 Grimmauld Place that we could use once we clean it out." He took another sip of whisky. Damn, Isaac had good taste.

"I couldn't ask you to do that," Hestia said.

"I'm offering."

She took a drink of whisky and turned away. "Why do you have to be such a good person, Sirius Black?"

He shrugged. "Why do you never hesitate to protect a child, Hestia Jones?" 

Still turned away, Hestia took a long pull of her whisky. "I should…Merlin, this is good whisky. I mean, really, I have to compliment Isaac. Anway, I should go."

"I understand," Sirius said. "It's been a longer night than we anticipated."

"Yeah, that." Her laugh was brittle and short, not the clear and musical sound to which Sirius had become accustomed. She drained the rest of the glass, placed it on the coffee table in front of them, and then rose to go.

"Are you OK?" Sirius asked. "I'm really sorry for dragging you into all of this. I know it's not what you—"

"I'm fine, really," Hestia said. "And I promise you, I wouldn't change a thing about anything except myself." She still wasn't looking at him, which gave him a chance to appreciate her incredible arse. He had no idea what she meant about changing herself, but he would have words with anyone who thought her arse needed to be changed in any way. 

"That's…um…good? I guess?" Sirius said.

"I'll live," she said drily. "Good night, Sirius."

"Good night," he said as she disappeared into the floo. He took another drink of his whisky as he stared at the normal, red flames in the fireplace, followed by another. He had no idea what had just happened or if he'd done the right thing, and neither the silence of the room nor the mostly empty glass had any answers for him. 

Once it was entirely empty, Sirius rose and walked to the floo. He was going to owe Ted a fortune for the next eighteen hours, but if it protected Harry it would be worth every penny. 

As a Lord, Sirius could not only demand his own trial take place before the Wizengamot, but that the trial of anyone accused of attacking him take place in the same venue. He felt like an arsehole for taking advantage of that now, but Lockhart had started this and Sirius was damn well going to finish it. 

Ted immediately understood the stakes and threw himself into planning to question Lockhart. By the time Chief Warlock Ogden was ready to act as a magistrate judge overseeing the man's questioning that afternoon, Sirius had a whole list of questions to give Amelia, as well as justifications for each question should Lockhart's attorney object. 

And object he did. Silas Herndon was as slippery an attorney as Sirius had ever seen, and he very carefully kept the Veritaserum questioning focused on the events of the previous evening. That questioning quickly revealed Lockhart was the author of the Harry Potter Adventures series (under the pseudonym Gilda R. Locke) and had intended to Obliviate all of their memories related to how Harry had grown up, including Harry's. That level of Obliviation was guaranteed to cause serious personality damage, so Lockhart was already looking at a twenty-year stay in Azkaban at a minimum. 

It was Ted who put his finger on what was bothering Sirius about that. If this was what the lawyer was willing to see revealed, then what was Lockhart hiding ?

Finally, Amelia asked the last question on the list they'd prepared for her. "Mr. Herndon, please tell your client Lord Black was impressed with his speed drawing his wand, and wanted to know how he'd learnt to do it so quickly."

"Objection: irrelevant," Hendon said immediately. "Everyone knows my client is an master at defence against the Dark Arts."

"I disagree," Amelia said. "This goes to the level of premeditation in this crime: how long was he planning to attack Lord Black, and how much did he prepare to do so."

"Objection overruled," Ogden said. "I agree that this is relevant to premeditation."

Herndon gritted his teeth, leaned inside the Quiet Bubble in which Lockhart was seated, and asked his client the question.

"I've been practising for years," Lockhart replied. "That's how I Obliviated all of my interviewees."

Everyone's jaws dropped except for Herndon's, who just sighed. 

It took some careful manoeuvring on Sirius and Ted's part to keep Luna and Hestia out of the public eye, but some other laws written to privilege wealthy Lords (and help them hide their mistresses) came in handy and he was able to have that part of the case record suppressed. Lockhart was thrown through the Veil and an attorney from the Wizengamot began the complex task of contacting the man's victims and sorting out compensation. 

Sirius envied the man only a little as he apparated into the Grangers' backyard that evening. This was going to be awkward. 

Miranda let him in the back door just as the kids came downstairs. "What's up?" Harry asked. "You don't usually come by on Thursdays."

"Something happened last night that we need to talk about," Sirius said. "All of us."

"Then we're going to need tea," Miranda said firmly. 

Once they all had a cup of tea and were seated together in the living room, Sirius gave them a blow-by-blow of what happened. When he was finished, Isaac and Miranda looked horrified. The kids, though, looked furious.

"Great job ripping his fingers off!" Harry said. "I hope I'll be that fast when I grow up."

"And good job ensuring he'll never hurt anyone again," Hermione added.

"Children!" Miranda said. "You shouldn't be congratulating Sirius on that. I'm glad he's alright, but that's not something to congratulate him on."

"That's not what W.E. Fairbairn wrote in his books, Mother," Hermione said.

Isaac blinked. "Where have you been finding books by Fairbairn?"

"Well, you wouldn't let us buy them because you said they were too violent," Hermione said, "so Harry had them sent to the local library and we read them there."

Harry nodded vigorously. "The librarian said his Da was a Commando in the War and loaned us some of his books, too, when we said we wanted to learn more about how the Commandos fought."

"We weren't going to tell you," Hermione said, "but it didn't seem fair to let you admonish Sirius for doing what was technically correct…or would have been if Mr. Fairbairn had known about animagi."

"Yeah, Sirius is awesome and protected Luna and Miss Hestia," Harry said. 

Miranda looked plaintively at Sirius. "They're children . How can you be alright with this?"

"I'm not!" Sirius shot back. "I know exactly what Lily and James wanted for their baby, and this isn't it! But they're dead now because none of us were paranoid enough. This is ugly, but I wanted you all to know the truth because that's the best chance they have of outliving his parents."

"What kind of world are you bringing these children into?" Isaac asked.

"It's our world, Father," Hermione said. "Sirius has already told us that we can't safely walk away. So we're going to make it safe, instead."

"Laws first," Harry said. "I suggested piracy first, but Hermione convinced me that should be a last resort."

"It's not off the list entirely, though," Hermione said. "After all, King David was basically a land-based pirate for some of his younger years, to say nothing of Robin Hood and all of the other people who've been accused of piracy or brigandage over the centuries because they had a falling-out with authority figures. I mean, in our history books, Sir Francis Drake is described as a hero, but wouldn't the Spanish call him a pirate?"

"An awesome pirate," Harry said firmly.

"Laws should definitely come first," Isaac said quickly. 

"I'm not at all comfortable with this," Miranda said. 

Sirius sighed. "I'm not, either, but my generation and our parents before us screwed up terribly and left these kids a rotten world. It's not fair that they have to clean it up, but I want to help them so their kids don't end up with a world like that, too."

"Did you have to be quite so…descriptive, though?" Isaac asked. "That was a little gruesome for children."

"It's OK, Father," Hermione said. "Mr. Fairbairn was even more descriptive."

"I…don't feel better about that," Miranda said.

"Harry, Hermione, I want you to listen to me," Sirius said. "I don't want you learning how to permanently damage people before you're ready to accept that responsibility."

"Don't worry," Harry said. "We're not practising those parts."

"You're…practising?" Isaac asked.

"Of course we are, Father," Hermione said. "How else would we ensure we'd learnt what was in the book properly?"

Harry leapt to his feet. "Show them on me!"

"OK," Hermione said. She rose to her feet and allowed Harry to wrap his arms around her in a bear hug. "First," she said, "you rake your shoe down his shin painfully and stomp on his instep. At that point, he's probably going to lean forward, so you can bite him in the ear. If he leans backward, instead, you can grab his testicles and twist."

Sirius and Isaac both instinctively crossed their legs.

"It's OK," Harry said. "We don't bite or grab each other. We just mimic the movements so we know how."

Miranda looked a little pale. "Um…maybe we should enrol you in martial arts, dear."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "We've several books by Mr. Fairbairn."

"Some adult supervision while you're practising might help," Miranda said. 

Hermione looked sceptical, so Isaac added, "Besides, those books are from World War II. The state of the art, as it were, may have improved since then."

"He's right," Harry said. "We could probably learn to fight even better from someone with newer techniques."

"What if we just got newer books?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sure the martial arts school will have some recommendations," Miranda said. That seemed to finally mollify Hermione, who reluctantly nodded.

Hermione had trouble sleeping that night from worrying about what had happened to Sirius. A million different ideas raced through her head about people trying to abduct them or take their memories, and the clock at her bedside read 1:01 a.m. when she heard a creak on the stairs. Her heart leapt briefly into her throat before the stairs creaked again, this one slightly further down. Whoever it was, they were going downstairs, away from her.

Her curiosity now piqued and her veins too full of adrenaline to make sleep even a remote possibility, she slipped out of bed, put on her bathrobe and slippers, and swung her door open as quickly as she could to reduce the hinges creaking. As she crept downstairs, someone turned the kitchen sink on for a few seconds.

Harry was sitting on the sofa sipping a glass of water when she walked into the room. He jumped a little when he saw her and hastily wiped up some spilt water from the sofa with the sleeve of his pyjamas.

"Hi, Hermione," he said sheepishly. "Did I wake you?"

"No, I couldn't sleep," she said. "I heard someone going downstairs and wanted to see what was going on."

"I couldn't sleep, either," Harry said, "so I got a cup of water."

"Why didn't you do that upstairs in the loo?" Hermione sat down next to him as she spoke, moving slowly so as not to jostle his water.

"I wanted to sit and think somewhere, and this seemed like a good place," he said. It's nice to be able to see the bushes and trees in the backyard at night. They look cool."

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" 

He sighed. "Luna and Sirius and Miss Hestia were in danger because of me. What if you're in danger, too?"

"No," Hermione said firmly, "they were in danger because that Lockhart person didn't like being called out on the lies in his books. If allowing people to lie in books is the price of being safe, then I refuse to pay it."

Harry put his water down on a coaster and pulled her into a hug so tight she could barely breathe. "Don't say that," he whispered. "You're my best friend. I can't lose you." 

She hugged him back for awhile before speaking. "I'm scared, too. But…if we're so busy being afraid that we can't do what's important to us, then what's the point of being alive?"

"Being with you," Harry said immediately. 

Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, Harry!" she said, and hugged him as tightly as he'd been hugging her.

They stayed like that for a minute or so before her arms got tired and she had to release him. He took a deep breath when she relaxed her grip, and she wasn't sure if she felt bad for constricting his airflow or touched that he'd suffered reduced oxygen rather than asking her to release him.

"That was a lovely thing to say, but you know we can't hide away forever," Hermione said. 

He nodded. "It didn't work for my parents."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't even think—"

"No, it's fine. You're right. We can't hide away and we can't just…not live, either."

"Exactly. We're going to live, Harry, and when we're done with that it'll be my turn to meet your parents."

Harry sniffled. "They're going to love you, I promise."

"I'm going to love them, too," Hermione said. 

They sat for awhile after that in silence. She didn't remember falling asleep, but she must have at some point because she awoke to the first light of dawn with her head on a pillow against the left arm of the sofa and Harry asleep on her thigh. 

She roused him gently and they crept back upstairs before her parents noticed they were gone. She was sore and had a feeling she was going to have trouble staying awake in school that day, but it was still somehow the best night's sleep she'd ever had, and one look in Harry's sparkling green eyes told her he felt the same way.

Chapter Text

Dost thou have to post this chapter tonight, scribe?

Gwendolena, you were just bugging me about not being in the story. Why would you want me to wait?

What if thy readers findeth me hateful? Maybe thou shouldst edit it a little more for safety's sake.

The last thing I need to do is edit things more . I'm anal-retentive enough as-is. 

So I canst not tempt thee to do one more SPaG review?

How on Earth do you know what a SPaG review is?

I resent thy implication that I am unlettered. I readeth the Girl of Grammar nightly after sleep taketh thee.

You use my computer? Wait, are you the reason I keep getting Google ads for—"

Nay! Most certainly nay! Now haste and post this chapter, scribe, and keepeth not thy readers waiting one moment longer.

Fine, but I'm changing my login password.

And I shall let thee think that will help. See? Now we art both content.

Luna waved goodbye to her parents and hurried down the path from the front door to meet up with her friends. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger were there with Sirius Black and Hestia Jones, and with almost nary a wrackspurt in sight. Sirius seemed to have just a few, which was unusual but not concerning by itself. Oddly, Harry (who wasn't normally a hat person) was wearing a tweed Scottish flat cap.

"Happy Birthday!" they all shouted as she approached. Hermione and Harry then pulled out little whistles that, when they were blown, emitted the sound of a foghorn and expelled a rainbow-coloured mist. 

Hestia jumped a little. "What in Merlin's name?" 

"Zonko's party whistles," Sirius said. "Perfect for every occasion."

Hermione studied the whistle quizzically. "Especially ships on a foggy night, apparently."

"Ships?" Harry's eyes lit up. "Perfect!" He blew the whistle again. 

"I'm glad you like them," Sirius said. "Now, I'm going to call the Knight Bus to take us there, but we'll be going a bit of a roundabout way on it."

"We will?" Hestia asked. "Wouldn't it be easier to take the floo?"

"Yes," Harry said, "but far less pirate-y."

"Piratical," Hermione corrected.

"Piratical-y," Harry said.

The older girl sighed.

"Anyway," Sirius said, "the Knight Bus is a very bumpy ride and might seem scary the first time you use it. It's absolutely safe, though. No matter what you see it do, you're not going to be hurt and the bus isn't going to crash. Oh, and the armchairs we'll be sitting in slide all over the floor, but just treat it like an amusement park ride. Don't worry if you spill the hot chocolate; I'll clean you up with magic when we get out."

Hermione raised her hand, which Luna thought was absolutely adorable. 

"Yes?" Sirius asked.

"Hot chocolate? Armchairs? Amusement park ride? On a bus ?"

Luna gently patted Hermione's shoulder, which seemed to help the older girl relax a little. "It's a magical bus," Luna said, "and magical devices often do things because they seemed like a good idea at the time they were created, not because they make sense."

"That's…so irrational!" Hermione said.

"That's what makes it so lovely," Luna said. "There are lots of buses in muggle London, aren't there?"

"Well, yes."

"And they're mostly the same, right?" 

Hermione nodded. "There are a few different models of bus, but they're all generally one of a few types that the government bulk-purchased to save money."

"The Wizarding World is different," Luna said. "There's only one Knight Bus. Nowhere else in the world has a bus quite like this one, and when this one finally does break down for good, whatever replaces it will almost certainly be irrational in an entirely different way. That's why I can't wait to ride the Knight Bus: this could be the only time I get to see something as queer and irrational as this and I don't want to miss a thing."

Hermione's lips formed a silent 'o.'

"Huh," Harry said. "I think Luna broke Hermione."

"No," Hermione replied slowly, "I…I think she fixed me." She pulled Harry and Luna into a hug that smelt of vanilla, pen ink, and cinnamon. "Happy Birthday, Luna," she said. "Let's go have our adventure with our best friends and not waste one more minute worrying about how rational it is."

"Yay!" Luna didn't even bother hiding the huge smile on her face. She'd just helped her friend and they were about to go on an adventure that would almost certainly involve ice cream or pudding. She wasn't sure how future birthdays could possibly top this one.

"Yarr!" Harry added with a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shot him a fond smile. Luna basked in its warmth and hoped that someone would smile at her like that one day. 

Sirius coughed gently. "I…um…hate to break this up, but we are on a bit of a schedule."

"No worries," Harry said. "Let's go!"

Luna and Hermione nodded. Hestia did, as well, but she seemed to have accumulated a number of wrackspurts all of a sudden and the smile she'd pasted on her face didn't come close to her eyes.

Luna wasn't too worried about her, though. She had Sirius's help to deal with those wrackspurts, whether she knew it or not.

"OK, kids, get ready," Sirius said. "The bus will appear when I hold up my wand and it can be a little sudden."

Harry shifted a little to stand in front of Hermione as Sirius raised his arm. Luna wasn't sure Harry even knew he'd done it, but had no more time to think on it as the huge purple triple-decker bus roared up in front of them from out of nowhere.

"Welcome t'the Knight Bus," said a lanky young man in a ratty conductor's coat as stepped out onto the boarding platform. "We provide top-notch emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard, best in the business, and always just a hail away. I'm Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this fine day. Where can I take you good people?"

"Good afternoon," Sirius said. "We're off to the Leaky Cauldron, but we'll sit and enjoy the ride for a bit." He handed Stan four galleons. "I'll take five seats with the hot chocolate, please, and keep the change."

"Blimey, thanks!" Stan said. "Hop on board!"

Sirius led them all onto the bus and they waited while Stan drew mugs of hot chocolate from a space-expanded warm box underneath the stairs to the upper deck. As soon as Sirius had his mug, he stepped on those stairs and motioned for them to follow him. "Hang on tight," he said. "The bus goes—"

"And we're clear," Stan said as he gave the last mug to Hestia.

The bus lurched forward and accelerated to what Luna could only describe as ludicrous speed. Hermione squeaked in fright, but Hestia said, "Don't worry, dear. The bus has lots of charms on it to hide it and protect it from collisions. You're probably in one of the safest places in Britain right now."

Harry just said, "Wow." He tried to drink some of his hot chocolate while he held onto a railing for dear life, but about half of it spilt on his shirt. Luna's was sloshing all over, too, which was disappointing because it was a chilly day and hot chocolate sounded lovely. 

The staircase was enchanted so the first step took them up to the second floor of the bus. There was no one else up there at that time of day, so Sirius led them over to some of the armchairs rolling around the floor like plimpies in an eddy and they all got seats together. At least, they were initially together. After a few minutes they were spread all over the bus and most of the remainder of Luna's hot chocolate was on her shirt. As Sirius whizzed by them, he took turns cleaning each of them up, making a game of targeting his cleaning spells. Harry cheered his aim and, despite her concern at the madcap driving of the bus, even Hermione seemed impressed by his control. 

After about ten minutes, all of the hot chocolate was either in Luna's stomach, on her shirt, or (mostly) cleaned off of her shirt, and she was starting to wonder why they couldn't just go straight to the Leaky Cauldron when a blonde boy with a bit of baby fat still in his cheeks climbed up to the second floor of the bus. 

"Hullo," he said as he staggered from side to side of the bus, eyes wide from the chaos.

"Neville!" Harry leapt from his seat, nimbly dodged Hestia's chair as it hurtled past him, and gave the other boy a hug. "Welcome aboard our pirate bus!"

"It's not…" Hermione began, then paused. "Nevermind. If there was ever, in the entire history of this island, a pirate bus, this is most certainly it."

"Good… oof …afternoon," Hestia said. "My name is Hestia Jones, and Sirius asked me to help supervise on this trip."

A chair rattled by the boys and Harry caught it and helped Neville in. The blonde boy went bouncing around the floor and ended up near Luna. "Hullo," he said to her. "I'm Neville Longbottom. It's alright if you want to make fun of my name."

"Hullo, Neville Longbottom," Luna replied. "I'm Luna Lovegood, and people make fun of my name, too."

"Well, I won't," Neville said firmly. Behind him, or at least briefly behind him depending on which way his chair was angled, Sirius climbed down the stairs, presumably to ask Stan to take them to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry was now swinging on the grip bars hanging from overhead and both Hestia and Hermione were trying to cajole him into coming down.

"That's very kind of you," Luna said. "I think we shall become friends."

"I'm pretty boring." Neville looked down at the floor. "You'll probably change your mind."

Luna arched her eyebrows at him. "I disagree. I have been to three different continents in search of magical beasts. I should like to think I can identify interesting things by now and you are one of them."

They both jumped a little when Hermione shrieked, but it turned out to just be due to Harry swinging himself down from the bar into a passing chair. 

"What?" Harry asked. "You wanted me to come down."

Hestia sighed.

"I actually am interesting?" Neville asked when they'd turned back to face each other.

"I have a hunch," Luna said. 

"Really?" The poor boy looked genuinely surprised about that. "Wait, are you the person whose birthday it is today?"

Luna smiled. "Yes, I am. I've never spent a birthday with friends like this before and I'm ever so excited about it."

"Happy Birthday!" Neville said. "I'll do my best to ensure you've a good one, then."

The bus screeched to a stop outside the Leaky Cauldron before Luna could respond, which conveniently threw all of their chairs against the front of the bus next to the staircase there. Hestia helped Luna and Neville out of their chairs while Harry helped Hermione out of hers, then the all made their way unsteadily (except for Harry…Luna was starting to wonder if that boy was part Lemurian Lemur) downstairs and out of the bus.

Sirius already had the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron open when Luna and Neville exited, and as they followed him in, Harry pulled his hat down low over his eyes. 

"Oh," she whispered.

Neville looked at her, brows furrowed.

"He doesn't want any attention," Luna said. "It hurts him."

"At least people remember what his parents did," Neville said sadly. 

Luna made a mental note to ask Sirius about that statement later. "They don't, though. They thank him ."

Neville glowered. "Bastards. Oh! I'm sorry, that was—"

"Just fine." Luna placed her hand gently on his arm as she spoke. Under the baby fat was a surprising layer of muscle, as if he were much more accustomed to manual labour than he appeared. "Appropriate, even." She took a quick glance at Hestia, who was bringing up the rear just behind them, but she seemed too busy scanning the seedy bar for potential threats to have noticed their conversation.

The establishment still had a bit of the lunchtime crowd in it, but it wasn't too busy and they had no real difficulty threading their way through the dingy room and out into Diagon Alley. The early afternoon sun was a harsh, but welcome change after the dinginess of the Leaky Cauldron. The Alley was quiet, with most people at work and the school supply rush a few months off yet, and they paused in the middle of the street to plan. 

"Alright," Sirius said. "Harry and Hermione already have their wands and didn't particularly enjoy the experience—"

A shadow passed over their faces as Sirius mentioned them, and Luna filed that away for further questioning, as well. 

"So, I thought Hestia could take them to a bookshop—"

The shadow lifted from Hermione's face so fast that Luna was surprised the little witch's lips didn't get whiplash. (Liplash? She made a note to ask her father if that was, as Harry would put it, a Thing.) Harry rolled his eyes, but still smiled at how happy Hermione was.

"—while I took Luna and Neville for their wands. Hestia, are you up for that? We'd meet you at the bookshop."

Hestia nodded firmly. "That works. Flourish & Blotts?"

"No, I thought they would like a place with a little more character this time," Sirius said. "Could you take them to Oldknowe Books?"

The older witch arched her eyebrows. "Don't you think the ghosts will be a bit much?"

"Nah," Sirius said with a grin. "They're harmless and it'll be a good chance to get used to ghosts before they go to Hogwarts."

"Ghosts?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

"Ghosts?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Wixen can see spirits that muggles can only barely perceive," Hestia said, "and the more magical a place is, the more likely it is to have a few spirits sticking around. They can't hurt you, though. Oldknowe Books is reputed to have a few ghosts."

"How interesting!" Hermione said. "I wonder if they can recommend books."

"Or if any of them were pirates," Harry added.

"Both of those are quite possible," Hestia said. "Shall we, then?"

Oldknowe Books had a dirty and run-down exterior (with the word "UNQUIET" written on it for some reason), but, as if trying to prove an old adage about its products, was clean and well-lit inside. Everburning candles floating near the ceiling every few feet provided plenty of light and all of the books were arranged neatly on shelves by their topics. Although the front of the shop was only about twenty yards wide, the length of the inside had been magically expanded to the point that Hestia had difficulty even seeing the back of the shop in the candlelight.

"Wait, children," Hestia said as Harry and Hermione entered behind her. "Before you go touching anything, I want to talk to the clerk about what might be dangerous."

"It's alright," the clerk said. He had his back to her behind the desk a good twenty feet from the door, so his hearing must have been remarkable, and he turned around as he spoke. "There's nothing dangerous on the floor right now. The children's books and introductory level spellbooks are toward the back, though. The items with somewhat Darker spells are up here near the front where I can keep an eye on them."

Hestia had to stop herself from visibly reacting as she caught a glimpse of the man. He had a number of scars on his face and hands, several travelling up his wrists and under his shirtsleeves. His short brown hair hung limply on his head and he had bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept well in days. His smile was kind, though, and he seemed genuinely concerned for the children's safety. 

"That's good," Hestia said. 

"Are there ghosts here?" Hermione asked. "We were looking forward to meeting one."

"I think Gwendolena is back there," the clerk replied. "She likes children."

"Oh, good, thank you," Hermione said.

"Was she a pirate?" Harry asked. 

"I don't think so."

He shrugged. "Oh, well. It'll still be cool to meet her."

"I won't tell her you said that." Hermione took his hand. "Now come on! There are books back there."

Harry laughed and let her pull him toward the back, past a display of Newt Scamander's new book, A Children's Anthology of Monsters .

The clerk chuckled as he watched them go. "Those children seem like fun, but a bit of a handful. Are you watching them for their parents?"

Hestia glared at him and had to stop her hand from twitching toward her wand. "Perhaps. Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious." He held his hands out so she could see they were empty, but that didn't assuage her concerns as much as it might have before she saw Lockhart draw his wand. "I guessed they weren't yours because you seemed a bit young to have children that age, their skin tone is different enough and their age similar enough that they can't be fraternal twins, so at least one of them isn't yours, and they're dressed like muggleborn wixen while your robes are more like those of a modern Pureblood."

She inclined her head slightly. "Very observant. You're correct that I'm watching them for their parents. They're working right now and aren't always comfortable in Diagon Alley, regardless."

He smiled at her, a genuine smile that came through in spite of his apparent exhaustion. "That's wonderful of you. Thank you."

"Well…I mean, I'm getting paid for this trip," Hestia said.

"That's not what I meant," the clerk said. "I had a friend at Hogwarts, a brilliant muggleborn witch. She would have loved an opportunity like this to learn more about the Wizarding World and spend time in Diagon Alley. I know you're just doing this as a job, but I promise you that those children are going to remember this trip for the rest of their lives. So, thank you for giving muggleborn children the memories my friend never got to make for herself."

"Oh…you're very welcome." Hestia didn't bother to correct his assumption that both children were muggleborn, since that was safer for Harry's anonymity. "I'm sorry your friend never had that opportunity. Is she making up for it now?"

The man shook his head sadly. "No, she died in the war."

"I'm sorry," Hestia said.

"I miss them every day." He sighed. "I should leave you to your browsing. Is there anything you're looking for?"

"Cursebreaking, if you have anything," Hestia replied. "I'm starting out as a freelancer."

His eyebrows shot up, but all he said was, "Those shelves there have all of our cursebreaking and warding books." The shelves to which he pointed were toward the front of the shop, along the far well from his desk and cash register, but separated from him by two more shelves. Evidently, he considered the cursebreaking and warding books among the Darker ones in the shop, which was probably a good sign for the safety of the rest of it.

"Thank you." Hestia made her way over to the shelves to see what he had in stock.

Harry allowed Hermione to lead him all the way to the back of the shop. On the way, they passed an end cap display with some used Harry Potter Adventures books in it. "Oi," Harry said, "aren't you curious what I've been up to?"

"I already know what you've been up to," Hermione said. "We live together. Would you help me find the introductory spellbooks?"

"You never know," Harry said. "I may have a hippogriff hidden away in your parents' attic."

She sighed loudly. "We were just up in the attic a couple of months ago putting away the Christmas decorations."

"Maybe it's a recent addition."

She turned around and glared at him.

"Nevermind," Harry said.

" Anyway ," Hermione said, "I'll check the shelves on the left side of the shop and you check the shelves on the right side. That way, we'll find the spellbooks faster."

Before they could separate, though, the spectre of a young woman rose up through the floor. She wore a blood-red cloth dress bound by an ornate ribbon around the waist and a white cloth hanging over her hair. "Good afternoon, children," she said.

Harry and Hermione's grip on each other's hands tightened and they each jumped back a few feet up the centre aisle of the shop.

"Be not alarmed," the woman said, giggling. "I am Gwendolena, one of the resident spirits here."

"Oh, hullo." Harry tried to run his free hand through his hair, but forgot he had a hat on and nearly knocked it off. "I'm Harry and this is Hermione."

"Well met, Harry and Hermione," Gwendolena said. "I see ye art in a hurry to find books. May I help ye?"

"Thank you, Miss Gwendolena!" Hermione said. "I'm looking for introductory spellbooks."

"Spellbooks already?" Gwendolena asked. "Surely thou art too young yet to attend Hogwarts."

"Only by a little," Hermione replied, "and I want to ensure we're both caught up on all of the spells we'll need to know. There's just so much to learn and I'm worried we're already behind!"

"There is indeed much to learn, but thou needst not sacrifice thy childhood to do so," the ghost said. "Abideth for a moment among the children's books and thou will learn much about the Wizarding World, too."

"That doesn't sound like a good use of our time."

"It sounds more interesting than spellbooks to me," Harry said.

"I know, I know, but we need to be prepared in case anyone else comes looking for you," Hermione told him. "I'm worried we won't be ready."

Gwendolena arched her partially transparent eyebrows. "Ready for what, praytell? Thou art but children. How…" she knelt down until she was at eye level with Harry. "Thou…thou art a Potter!"

"What of it?" Harry asked defiantly. 

The ghost reached out to him and gently ran her hand across his cheek, chilling his skin wherever she touched. "Oh, child, thou hast a heavy Doom upon thee, and nothing I do may change that. Please allow me to help thee, though."

"Doom?" Harry asked. "That doesn't sound good."

"It's an old word for your fate," Hermione said. "How can we help him?"

"There is a tale I must recount to ye," Gwendolena looked distant for a moment. "Many centuries ago, I coveted the life of my elder sister Iolanthe and did endeavour to do her a grave injustice by enslaving her to another with vile love potions. Thine ancestor Hardwin Potter slew me before I could succeed and Iolanthe agreed to be his wife."

"My ancestor killed you?" Harry asked. "Aren't you angry at me, then?"

"Nay, child." The ghost smiled sadly. "Long years have taught me the right of the matter and I now thank Heaven that Hardwin was there to stop me."

"Oh, OK," Harry said. 

Hermione looked around, puzzled. "This bookshop doesn't look that old. Were you killed here before it was a shop?"

"An excellent question," Gwendolena said. "Some ghosts can go whither they will, and for many a year I haunted the library of Hogwarts. The current Headmaster troubled me overmuch with questions to which only young Harry here deserves the answers, though, so I took my leave some years ago and sought out another building friendly to spirits and full of books."

"I'm sorry you couldn't stay," Hermione said. 

Harry nodded. "Me, too, but I appreciate you offering to tell me that story."

"I thankest ye," Gwendolena said. "If thou canst find me a certain book on the bottom shelf of the bookcase behind me, place it in front of me, and turn the pages for me, I can read it to thee and tell thee the truth of thy heritage, as I understand it. Thou must tell no one, though. Only thee and thy betrothed must know."

Hermione sighed again. "Does everyone know we're still engaged? We're trying to keep that a secret."

Gwendolena laughed merrily. "Oh, child, thy secret is safe. I canst only perceive thy bond due to my aethereal nature and distant relationship to this boy."

"That's good, at least," Hermione said. "What book did you want us to find?"

" The Tales of Beedle the Bard ," the ghost replied.

Luna skipped gaily along Diagon Alley, revelling in the feeling of her new wand thrumming against her head from its place behind her ear. A glance over at Neville slowed her back to a walk, though. The poor boy was staring nervously at his wand as he made his way down the street. 

"Are you alright, Neville Longbottom?" she asked him.

He gave her a confused look that suggested he really didn't know how to answer that question. "Um…is Mr. Ollivander always like that?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, he's usually just mildly creepy. He really pulled out all the stops for you and Harry, though."

"Wonderful," Neville said drily. 

Luna patted his arm. "Don't worry. If Mr. Ollivander had tried anything funny, I would have used my wand on him."

"How did you learn spells without a wand?" Neville asked. 

"Oh, I didn't mean that sort of use," Luna said. "I would have punched him and, while he was distracted, shoved my wand somewhere unpleasant. Wands are sturdy things, you see. I think I could get it quite far up there."

Neville stared at her, open-mouthed.

"No, silly." She placed a finger under Neville's chin and gently pushed his mouth closed. "The other hole." That misunderstanding cleared up, she skipped on toward the bookshop.

Sirius and Neville watched her for a moment, then turned to one another.

"Did she…" Neville trailed off.

"Indeed she did," Sirius said.

"My goodness," Neville said.

Sirius patted him on the shoulder and smiled wistfully, wishing Frank and Alice could be here to see this instead. Frank would be grinning like a thief right now, and Alice…Alice would be laughing so hard she was crying.

The two of them hurried to catch up with Luna, and they all arrived at Oldknowe Books at roughly the same time. "One moment," Sirius said, and the children turned to look at him expectantly. "Can you both stay up near the front of the shop? I'll go find Harry, Hermione, and Hestia, and then we can get some dessert. Neville can't stay too much longer, but we can go back here afterward if you'd like, Luna."

"Thank you," Neville said. Luna nodded seriously…a reflection of how seriously she took dessert.

Sirius opened the door for them and followed them inside. The clerk was rummaging around under the counter for something, so all Sirius could see of him was the worn tweed jacket he wore. Luna's attention was immediately drawn to a display of Newt Scamander books and Neville seemed content to follow her, so Sirius left them alone for a moment while he collected the other children.

Harry stared at the floor where Gwendolena had been before she…left. "I don't understand," he whispered. "Gwendolena, please come back. I still don't understand."

"I…don't think she can." Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry from where she sat next to him on the floor. A copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard lay in front of them, still open to the last page of "The Tale of the Three Brothers." 

"Why does it have to be me?" Harry asked. "I don't know what I'm doing. I don't want this job."

"I think that's why," Hermione said. "Anyone else would find it tempting. Who knows how much power you could wield with those objects…assuming you ever find them?"

"Anyone?" He paused. "E…even you?"

"Even me," she whispered back.

"Then you do it," Harry said. "I don't want to."

"I can't," Hermione replied. "I could only take the wand by hurting you and I would rather cut my own arm off. I think that's why Gwendolena thought it would be safe for me to hear. I'll always be there to help you with this, Harry, but I think you have to take up this responsibility."

He hugged her then, too, suddenly and tightly. "Thank you. I can't do this alone."

"You won't have to," Hermione told him. "You'll have me, always. But…I guess it will only be me, won't it?"

Harry nodded. "I suppose it will. I can't tell anyone, can I?"

"I'm afraid not. People would and have killed for this sort of power. Even good people could be corrupted by it."

"Just us, then," Harry said.

She nodded and closed the book. "Just us. Until the end."

They sat there like that for a few more minutes before Sirius came back. "Is everything alright?" he asked. "You two look like you've seen a ghost." He grinned at his own joke, but the grin faded away when they both looked up at him with tired eyes.

"We did." Harry decided to lie only a little bit. "She…was waiting for us, I think is the best way to describe it. She asked if she could read us some stories from this book and then said it was time to pass on. After that, she just faded away."

Sirius knelt in front of them. "That's…highly unusual. Ghosts don't generally pass on until they address whatever is holding them to the material plane, and that can take centuries."

Hermione nodded. "She said she was many centuries old. I'm not sure what held her here, but she really wanted us to hear these stories."

"Interesting." Sirius picked up the book and flipped through it. "I haven't read these since I was a little boy. Did she flag any particular story?"

Harry shook his head. "She just started fading away as she read them, and then she was just gone."

"Weird." Sirius rose back to his feet and held out his hands to help them up. "Maybe she'd wanted to read stories to a certain number of children and you two happened to be the lucky ones. Are you alright?"

"We're fine," Hermione said. "But…do you think she's OK? She seemed nice and we don't know what happened to her."

"No one really knows," Sirius said, "but she didn't seem scared, did she?"

"Not at all," Hermione said. 

"There you go, then," Sirius said. "I mean, she was an old ghost. If anyone had plenty of time to think about the pros and cons of passing on, it would be her. I figure if she's not worried about it, why should we worry?"

"That's a good way to look at it," Harry said. Hermione nodded.

Sirius smiled. "I have my moments. You two look like you could use a hug. Is that right, or are you getting too old for that now?"

Harry shook his head and threw his arms around Sirius's waist, with the slightly taller Hermione following a moment later. He wrapped his arms tightly around them and they stood together for a few minutes before Luna's voice called out from the front of the shop.

"Harry, could you come here, please?" she shouted.

Chapter Text

Luna was thrilled to see reasonably priced used copies of A Children's Anthology of Monsters on sale. She was pretty sure she had enough pocket money at home to repay Sirius for it. He'd insisted on paying for their wands already and she wouldn't want him to think she was taking advantage of his generosity.

"Is that a good book?" Neville asked. 

"I've heard it's amazing," Luna said. "I think I can afford to buy it, too."

The clerk finally finished rummaging around below the desk at that point and stood back up. "It's alright, dear," he said. "I can shave a few knuts off the price if that would help." He turned away from them for a moment to look across the shop. "Miss, I found that book on cursebreaking in Mycenaean chamber tombs, if you're still interested. I was right that someone had returned it."

Luna watched him as he spoke, watched the scars flexing around his cheeks and across his hands while he gestured, watched the smile on his face fighting with the bags under his eyes for control of his features. "Oh, my!" she said. "I'm so sorry, sir. Was the night before last difficult for you?"

He froze and stared at her. "I'm just a little ill, my dear. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," Luna said, "just terribly sad. You must be in so much pain and there's nothing anyone can do to help you."

Neville looked between Luna and the man. "I don't understand. He just looks a bit peaky…and, well, scarred, I guess, though my Gran says that sort of thing isn't polite to say."

Luna looked at him, then back to the clerk, who stood stiffly with fear in his eyes. "Of course you're right, Neville. Just a bit peaky is all."

The clerk nodded quickly. "I'll be right as rain in a day or two, don't you worry. Can I interest either of you in any of the Harry Potter Adventures books?" He gestured rapidly toward the back of the shop. "I've heard they're suddenly hard to find new, but we've a good collection of them used."

Something about the way the clerk waved his hand and his mention of the HPA books reminded Luna of their author, and for a moment she was facing Lockhart down on a dark street and she instinctively flinched.

"Luna?" Neville took one look at her before turning a furious glare on the clerk and balling up his fists. "Stay away from her."

"It's—" was as far as Luna got before Hestia stepped around from behind a bookcase and unleashed a string of silent spells at the clerk. Neville flung his right arm back and pushed Luna further out of the line of fire, but Hestia's aim was true and none of the spells came too close.

The clerk dodged the first spell, a jet of red light, with superhuman speed, only to nearly dodge directly into a jet of white light. He stopped himself just in time to catch a bunch of ropes straight in the chest that bound him neck-to-toe like a mummy.

"What… why ?" Neville asked, looking more confused than frightened by the stream of spells that had been flying by him.

"Ask the werewolf behind the counter that threatened Luna," Hestia said calmly, so calmly it was easy to miss the furor bubbling beneath her words. The older witch must have been close enough to overhear her conversation with the man and, unlike Neville, had drawn the correct conclusion. 

"Werewolf?" Neville asked.

The clerk sighed. "I am a werewolf, but I give you my word that I meant no harm to anyone. I'm so sorry that I scared you."

"It wasn't his fault," Luna said. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Then why were you cowering from him?" Neville asked, still glaring at the clerk. 

"He mentioned the Harry Potter Adventure books and waved his hand like that, and all I could think about was Mr. Lockhart doing that same motion as he drew his wand to attack me." Luna felt tears forming at the corner of her eyes. "I was silly and now an innocent man is all tied up because of me."

Hestia ran up and pulled Luna into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Luna. I didn't realise that incident was affecting you like that, but of course it would."

"Wait, what?" the clerk asked. "Gilderoy Lockhart attacked a little girl? And what do the Harry Potter books have to do with it?"

"Everything, because Lockhart wrote those books," Hestia said. "We intentionally buried as much of the incident as we could for Luna and Harry's protection, but I was present and was very nearly cursed, as well. Luna was incredibly brave."

"Harry's protection?" the still-bound clerk asked. "I thought he was still living in that castle, just with Sirius as his guardian now."

Luna and Neville giggled, but Hestia's eyes narrowed. "Why are you trying to keep track of where Harry lives, werewolf?" she asked as she released Luna from her embrace and aimed her wand at the clerk again.

"I'm not…I was just worried about him," the clerk said. "I knew his parents and Sirius at Hogwarts. I can't imagine Sirius would ever want to take that boy anywhere near his parents' house in Islington, so I assumed he moved into Harry's castle."

"Why would you think Harry has a castle?" Luna asked. 

"I used to check in with Mary and Reg Cattermole about how Harry was doing, and they said they read about him periodically," the clerk said. 

Luna, Neville, and Hestia stared at each other for a moment, then back at the clerk. 

"What…why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. 

"They read the books ," Hestia said. "The books are all lies." 

"What? How could they have been printed?" the clerk asked. "There must be some misunderstanding."

"Harry grew up with his aunt and uncle," Luna said. 

The clerk frowned. "That can't be right. James didn't have any siblings, or even living cousins."

"His mother's sister," Luna added.

"No." The clerk paled. "That's not…Dumbledore would never have…"

Hestia nodded. "Harry said her name was Petunia."

"Merlin!" the clerk sagged against his bonds and Luna briefly worried he might have collapsed without them. "Please, let me go. I have to find him. I need to make sure he's alright."

"Right," Hestia said sarcastically, "like I'm going to help a werewolf find Harry Potter."

"He's not a bad person just because he's sick," Luna said. "He may be a bad person because he left Harry alone all those years, but he didn't do that because he's a werewolf."

"I actually did," the clerk said. "Headmaster Dumbledore pointed out that my condition might make it dangerous for Harry to get too close to me, and after Sirius took over Harry's care, I didn't think he'd have any use for me. Sirius had a right to be furious with me for not confirming he had a trial and I thought Harry was surrounded by friends in his own castle. I thought I'd just get in his way."

Neville nodded sympathetically. "That's what I thought about myself, too. But Harry was really excited to be my friend, and I think he could have used more friends years ago."

"Neville, you aren't a Dark Creature," Hestia said. "You shouldn't think you're like him."

Luna shook her head. "Please stop treating that man like he's a monster. He has one bad night each month, that's all."

"Werewolves are literally textbook Dark Creatures," Hestia said.

"Do Dark Creatures help you find books on cursebreaking or offer children a discount on books they get excited about?" Luna replied. 

"He frightened you!" Hestia said.

"He couldn't possibly have known," Luna said.

Neville's cheeks blushed bright red. "And I overreacted becauseIwastryingtoimpressLuna ." He rushed the last few words out while looking down at his feet. "I'm sorry. I was being silly and I don't want to get someone else in trouble for it."

Luna felt her own cheeks heat up. She didn't think anyone had ever cared enough to try to impress her before. Harry and Hermione impressed her all the time, of course, but that was just them being themselves as opposed to doing it intentionally. "That was a very brave thing to say, Neville. And there's nothing wrong with being silly every now and then."

The clerk chuckled warmly. "Oh, to be young again. Thank you, lad. That's the most honourable thing I've seen since…" he blinked. "Of course! Of course you're Frank Longbottom's Neville. He would be incredibly proud of you right now."

"He…would?" Neville asked. "My Gran is always talking about how disappointing I am compared to him."

The clerk shook his head. "Augusta was always proud of Frank, but never for what he cared about. When he was training as an Auror, he always said it was easier to teach someone how to improve their magic or get better grades than it was to teach them to be brave or honourable like you just proved yourself to be." 

Neville's smile at the praise was so joyous that Luna couldn't resist smiling, too.

Hestia's smile was sadder as she silently ended her Incarcerous Spell. "I'm sorry, sir. I see Luna was right about you and I was wrong."

"It's alright," he said. "I respect how you tried to protect the children. By the way, my name is Remus Lupin."

Her eyes widened. "My name is Hestia Jones. I remember my cousin Benjy talking about a mission he did with you during the war."

"I'm so sorry," Remus said. "Benjy was a wonderful man and I remember how proud he was of you after your first year at Hogwarts. He kept bragging about how you were at the top of your class and how he was sure you would end up as Head Girl one day."

"I…did become Head Girl," Hestia whispered. "Benjy always encouraged my dreams, even when my parents didn't. I'd give everything I owned if I'd only had the chance to tell him he was right."

"I understand the desire," Remus said sadly, "but in your case, I promise you that you needn't worry. He never had the slightest doubt you would become Head Girl, so all he would probably say if you told him you had would be, 'I told you all so!' And then he would buy us all a round to celebrate because he never missed an opportunity to do so."

"That sounds just like him," Hestia's voice was holding steady, but a few tears were trickling down her face as she spoke. Luna felt her eyes misting up, too. 

"He was a good man." Remus sighed. "I'm sorry I worried you by asking about Harry Potter. Miss…" he turned to Luna. "I don't think I caught your name."

"I'm Luna Lovegood," Luna said. "I don't think I should help someone find where Harry lives without asking him."

"That's fine," Remus said quickly. "You seem like you know about him and how he's doing. If you'll promise me he's well, I won't go looking for him. I just want to make sure he's safe."

Luna considered it for a moment. "No, I won't."

"Oh…um…why?" Remus asked. 

"Because you threw away your chance to be there for him when he needed you once." The man flinched as Luna spoke. "I don't think he needs you now, but I didn't know he needed you then, either. Either you care about him enough to want to find him and let him decide for himself whether he wants to see you, or you don't. I'm not going to help you walk away from him again."

Hestia and Remus stood there gaping like fish at her, while Neville gazed at her with an expression more akin to awe. Neville's admiration steeled Luna against the adults' reactions, and she continued, "I know it's easier to hide than risk him reacting to you like Miss Jones did, but 'easy' is also what left him alone with Petunia for all those years."

Remus swallowed hard. "I…deserved that."

"So did I." Hestia was now looking determinedly anywhere but at Remus and Luna.

He took a deep breath. "Fine. I withdraw my offer of a vow and my request of assistance in exchange for it. I won't ask you for anything, but I will find him, make sure he's alright, and let him decide if he wants anything to do with me."

"You don't need to ask me," Luna said. "It's not like he can leave the shop without seeing you, regardless."

"Leave…" was as far as Remus got before Luna shouted, "Harry, could you come here, please?"

Chapter Text

A moment later, Harry, Hermione, and Sirius returned from the depths of the children's section in the far back of the shop. Harry and Hermione both looked profoundly sad in a way that Luna had never seen on anyone her own age before, but before she could ask them what had happened, Sirius spoke up.

"Moony?" he asked, disbelief in his voice.

"Padfoot?" Remus responded. 

"Uncle Moony?" Harry asked. 

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" Sirius asked. "Where have you been?"

"I…" Remus fell back against the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf behind the desk and put his hands over his face. "I'm sorry."

"I needed you!" Sirius shouted. "The Prongslet needed you!"

Remus's only response was to start sobbing.

"It was the books," Luna said. She nearly flinched when everyone but Remus turned to look at her. "He said he talked to people named Mary and Reg, and they said they'd been following Harry, but what they really described was what was in those books."

"Those bloody books." Hermione's hair frizzed out even further than it usually did. "Those bloody stupid books. Is Lockhart dead yet?"

Harry threw his arms around Hermione from behind. "Yes, he is. It's OK, really."

"No, it isn't! You could have had a decent childhood instead of a God-damned parade of horrors but for that vain, exploitative arsehole!" At the last word, the cash register on Remus's desk popped open its cash drawer and began spitting up random numbers up on its analogue display.

"But I might never have met you," Harry said.

The witch in his arms froze for a moment before sinking slowly to her knees, crying quietly all the while. Harry followed her down, still holding her. Luna sniffled and felt a few tears fall at that, and Hestia and Sirius seemed to be crying, too. Neville looked sad, confused, and supremely awkward.

The silence held for at least a minute before Harry finally spoke. "I feel like I should be mad at you, Uncle Moony." The boy was still focused on the witch in his arms and wasn't even looking at Remus. "I'm not, though. I have a wonderful family now and great friends. I don't want anything to be different. It's just…did you ever care about me at all? I mean, I guess you didn't help murder my parents like Wormtail, but you didn't exactly lift a finger afterward, did you?"

Remus flinched again at the comments, though Harry couldn't have seen him do so. "I was on a mission for Headmaster Dumbledore on the Continent when your parents died, Harry," he said. "I didn't learn what had happened until the spring of 1982, and when I came back to Britain, Headmaster Dumbledore warned me that my condition might make it dangerous for you to be near me. I thought Sirius had been the Secret Keeper, so there was nothing left for me in the UK. I occasionally checked in with Mary and Reg, but that was it."

"Your condition?" Harry turned around just enough to see Remus with one eye.

"I'm a werewolf, Harry," Remus said.

"There really are werewolves?" Harry asked.

Remus blinked. "Um…yes. At the full moon, I lose control of myself and become a vicious monster. I have to hide in a locked stone room. Some of the more violent ones choose to embrace the wolf and run free, murdering and sometimes infecting others like I was infected when I was young." 

"That's pretty awful," Harry said. "Do you have any books about how to protect yourself from bad werewolves like that? If so, I'd like to buy all of them for Hermione."

For the first time in several minutes, Hermione looked up from the floor, a fond smile on her face as she gazed at Harry. 

"I think we do," Remus said, "but several of them are used copies of Gilderoy Lockhart's Wanderings with Werewolves and I feel like I should probably burn those now."

"That seems like a waste," Harry said. Hermione raised her eyebrows, but before she could say anything, Harry continued, "they'd probably make good toilet paper."

Luna and Neville shared a giggle while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Harry said, "I still would've rather been with you than my mum's sister. They were awful. With you, I'd only have been in danger one night a month."

Sirius smiled. "Harry, you are absolutely your parents' son. James is the one who convinced Peter and I to become animagi so we could keep Moony company during the full moon, since animagi are immune to werewolf infections while they're transformed. And Lily figured out Moony's Furry Little Problem in Third Year and would take notes for him each full moon, though we didn't find out she knew until Seventh Year."

"Wait…nobody else knew?" Harry asked. "He missed every day on the full moon and you called him 'Moony'! You might as well have put a big flashing 'Werewolf!' sign on him."

"Ah," Luna said, "you forget something, though. Most wixen are so convinced werewolves are all brutish and violent at all times that they simply could not imagine someone like Mr. Lupin exists. He hides in the blind spot of their prejudices."

Neville shrugged awkwardly. "It's a fair cop in my case, I suppose. Gran always told me werewolves would as soon eat you as look at you."

Hestia cleared her throat and blushed. "The parade of mediocrities who taught us DADA at Hogwarts told me much the same."

"They couldn't have been that mediocre," Remus said. "That was some fine wandwork earlier."

"Wait, what?" Sirius asked. 

"There was a bit of a misunderstanding," Remus said. "I ended up tied up for a bit, but there was no harm done."

"I'm really sorry about that," Hestia said. "And, for the record, some of that was training with Sirius. I learnt silent casting at Hogwarts, but Sirius has been helping me with spell chaining and rapid target acquisition."

"Truly, no harm done," Remus said. "It's good to see Sirius has kept his skills up like that. I admit I had some doubts when James chose you to be Harry's godfather rather than Frank, but you've clearly grown into the role and turned into an impressive man."

"Sirius is a great godfather!" Harry said angrily.

"It's alright, Pup," Sirius said. "If anyone deserves to have reservations about my fitness for that role, it's Remus."

Remus shook his head. "That was a long time ago. The important thing is that you were there for Harry, not something you did when we were both stupid kids."

"We were all stupid kids," Sirius said. "We had no business fighting in a war, but there was no one else to do it."

"That's the truth," Remus said. "At least we won, thanks mostly to James, Lily, and Harry."

"Yeah," Sirius looked away. Luna nearly jumped backward when the number of wrackspurts around his head tripled in the space of a single syllable.

"Sirius?" Remus asked. "What's wrong? I'm sorry I brought up James, but it was only to thank them."

Luna took a hesitant step toward Sirius. "Sirius Black, please don't lie to us."

"I'm not lying," he said quickly. "I didn't even say anything."

"Yes, you are," Luna said. "You're so focused on taking care of Harry and Hermione that you never have many wrackspurts, but you got them all of a sudden there. You're lying about something."

"Wrackspurts…wait, Pandora's?" Remus asked.

Sirius nodded.

"Of course," Remus said. "Luna, when did Sirius lie to us?"

Luna took a quick glance at her friends. Sirius had a studiously blank look on his face, Hermione was frowning, and Harry subtly shook his head. She felt sick. She knew what the honest answer to Mr. Lupin's question was, but her friends had never hurt her and had even gone out of their way to make her feel safe and cared for. Maybe she shouldn't have said—

Neville cut off her train of thought. "It was when Mr. Lupin said Harry's parents won the war for us and Sirius agreed. I don't know why he'd disagree, though. Harry's awesome and all, but it wasn't like he personally defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a toddler."

A vise of fear clamped down on Luna's stomach as she took Neville's statement to the conclusion he hadn't reached yet. No one said anything until Hestia once again connected Neville's dots for him. 

"Sirius, you spared no expense to have me install wards at Hermione's house," the witch said. "After we finish cleansing Grimmauld Place, I've got another contract to install similar 'money-is-no-object' wards at the Tonks' house. The children are learning duelling from you and training in hand-to-hand combat. I never put those together because I thought the war was over, but that's what you were lying about, isn't it?"

"Not here," Sirius hissed.

"No," Neville said. "That stupid war cost me more than anyone else in this room except maybe Harry. He and I both deserve answers about it!"

"Harry knows." Luna's insides twisted up as she spoke. She could tell where this conversation was going and desperately didn't want to get there, but each word spoken brought them inexorably closer. "He knows and didn't want us to know."

Neville spun around to face Harry. "But…why? I thought we were brothers!"

She put her hand on Neville's shoulder and prevented him from walking toward the other boy. A gentle restraint, one she knew he could throw off easily with his muscle, though she somehow knew just as clearly he would never do that to her. "Harry has always tried to protect Hermione and me," she told him. "I'm sure he'd want to protect you, too."

"Protect me from what?" Neville turned to look at her as he spoke, then his eyes widened. "Luna, are you alright?"

"No." Luna shook her head. "I'm not, and neither will you be in a moment." Her vision was starting to blur around the edges. 

"I'm sorry!" Neville said. "I didn't mean to upset you! What did I do? I'll stop!"

Luna shook her head again, but Hestia responded before she could say anything. "It's not your fault, dear," the older witch told him. "It's Sirius's, for allowing this speculation to continue. Sirius, tell the truth right now and stop scaring the children."

The black-haired man looked at her and, for the first time since Luna had first met him, the weight of those years in Azkaban showed through on his face. "I'm sorry," he said. 

"Sirius…" Hestia's voice faltered. 

"We can discuss this later," Remus said. "There's no reason to scare the children."

"Yes," Neville said, "there is, and I want to know what it is." As he spoke, he moved next to Luna, put his left arm around her shoulders, and rested his right hand on his new wand. "Harry, I know you want to protect us, but you're my brother and I want that to mean something. If there's something out there, I don't want you to protect me from it. I want you to tell me where it is so we can both go blast it into small enough pieces that it won't hurt anyone else, because that's what brothers should do."

Harry smiled a little, but was clearly trying to suppress it. "Neville, that's awesome, but…you don't understand what you're getting into here. You…you never feel safe anymore, no matter what anyone does for you."

"The people who put my parents into St. Mungo's for the rest of their lives are still alive in Azakaban," Neville said, "so I don't feel safe anyway. Tell me." 

"Voldemort is still alive somehow in spirit form and we can't figure out how, and he may be able to find himself a body at some point."

Luna heard two gasps behind her from Hestia and Remus, but Neville only set his jaw. "Fine. I have unfinished business with that arsehole."

"As do I." Harry reached out his hand and Neville shook it. "We'll finish it this time."

"That 'we,'" Hermione said, "had better include me, Harry Potter. This is as much my fight as yours."

"And me." Luna's voice wasn't as firm as she wanted it to be. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would never let someone like Daddy keep publishing a paper and Daddy would wither and die if he gave it up. He'll come for us soon enough, regardless."

"Being terrified," Hestia said, "is a completely reasonable reaction to this news. How do we know He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is still alive?"

"Because I saw him," Sirius said, and told them the story of a horrifying night in May.

When he finished, Remus raised his eyebrows. "You did an incredible job protecting them, Sirius. Thank you."

Hestia took a deep breath, apparently to steady her nerves. "What kind of magic was that? How could a piece of You-Know-Who's soul attack you…and how did you stop it?" 

Sirius shrugged. "You never ran across soul magic in your studies? My parents made Reggie and I learn the basics so we could defend ourselves if someone attacked us. They wanted us to learn some of the darker stuff, too, but I refused. I don't know if Reggie took them up on it. That stuff's dangerous. Sure, tearing off shreds of your soul to power spells gives you a huge boost, but there's less you there afterward. Eventually, you're just a shell of your former self."

She stared at him. "I…I've only heard whispers of soul magic in the darkest books I've read. What in Merlin's name were your parents teaching you as a child?"

"Really disturbing stuff," Sirius replied. "Some of those books suggested that the voids in your soul attracted other things that might want to fill them, things that don't exist on our world anymore and never should again. They had names, but the books had spells on them to make the reader forget the name after a few minutes in case that could summon them, too."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "The books prevented you from learning?"

"Yes," Luna said. "My father once put it to me like this: think of our world as an island in an infinite void. The more you know about the entities that roam that void, the brighter you shine to them. If one of them were ever to find you, the best you could hope for is that you would instantly cease to exist."

"That's the best case?" Neville asked. 

Luna nodded. "Some sages, like Enoch the Watcher, speculated the concept of damnation was developed by proto-necromancers who accidentally contacted the soul of someone who'd been taken by one of those entities and slowly digested. Soul magic used to be more common before the risks became more well-known." 

"What she said," Sirius said. "Luna, how in Merlin's name do you know all of that?"

"Mummy likes studying forbidden tomes and Daddy occasionally fights with her about it," Luna said. "And sometimes she leaves stuff around."

Hermione shook her head. "That's terrifying. I never thought simply knowing something could be dangerous. How has Voldemort—"

Everyone twitched except for Harry.

"Not shattered his soul or been eaten by extradimensional abominations yet?" Hermione continued, oblivious to her audience's discomfort. Luna wasn't sure if she envied Hermione's ability to ignore such things or worried about it.

"My understanding is that time moves differently in other dimensions," Sirius replied. "All of the books I read described their approach as a gradual process. Regardless, it's pretty much a guarantee that if he does manage to come back, he'll be a deranged shell of a man rather than the ruthless chessmaster he once was. Still powerful, of course, but mad as a hatter and probably prone to ludicrous, grandiose schemes."

Hestia set her jaw. "Sirius, after we finish cleaning out Grimmauld Place, can part of my payment be access to the library? I want to learn whatever magic is necessary to finish what Benjy started and ensure those boys don't have to fight He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"You can have that for free." Sirius turned to a practically vibrating Hermione. "And no, Hermione, you can't help her. I am not exposing an underage witch to those books."

"But…but…books. For Harry," Hermione said.

Sirius mimed picking up a telephone. "Hello? Doctors Granger? It's Sirius. Would you mind if I let your daughter read books that erased part of her mind for her own protection and were like catnip to extradimensional soul-eating abominations? Uh-huh. Uh-huh." He mimed putting down the phone. "Hermione, what's the diameter of one of those dental drills they use?"

"Dental drills?" Remus asked.

"Muggle method for getting rid of a cavity," Hermione replied. "You use a very hard drill to drill out all of the damaged tooth tissue and enamel, then fill it with gold. They're one point six millimetres in diameter."

Sirius nodded, then mimed picking up the phone again. "That's not going to be big enough. You're going to need at least one of those drill bits you use to drill large holes in a wall. Yes, a cement wall. No trouble at all, you too. Ta!" He mimed hanging up the phone again. "Your parents told me they'd take one of those dental drills to my John Thomas if I let you anywhere near those books, but I told them they'd need a larger drill if they were going to do that. They appreciated my honesty."

Everyone just stared at him for a moment. Luna felt her cheeks heating up, and she noticed a blush on Neville's, too, even though his brows were furrowed in confusion. Hestia's blush was so bright it reminded Luna of the setting sun. Remus and Hermione had their jaws open, completely speechless. And Harry…

Harry started laughing so hard he fell over. 

Remus sighed. "I'd say James had better taste when he was Harry's age, but I'd be lying. That's one of the reasons you two got on so well."

Hermione glowered. "I'm never going to be able to think of those books again without…that, thank you very much."

"Mischief managed." Sirius said with a roguish grin. 

"You…you…" Hestia sputtered, "you did that whole awful joke just to make Hermione less likely to want to read those books?"

"It doesn't work as well if you call attention to it," Sirius said. 

"But…you mean that was parenting?" 

Sirius nodded. "I'd like to think so."

"Sirius," Harry said from his position on the floor, "is the best godfather ever."

The older witch put her head in her hands. "I'm not sure what's worse: the possibility that Harry's wrong or the possibility that he's right."

Remus nodded sagely. "He gets that from Lily."

"Alright, everyone," Sirius said, "this trip has gotten way off-track. Neville, I'm afraid we won't have time to get you ice cream now. Can I owe it to you later?" 

"Of course," Neville said. "I'm just glad I got my own wand."

"That's not fair!" Luna tried not to pout. "Neville was very brave today and deserves pudding."

"I don't think I was brave at all," Neville mumbled.

"I don't disagree with you," Sirius told Luna, "but we're out of time. I'll bring him something good tomorrow."

"Good," Luna said. "Goodbye, then, Neville. It was lovely to meet you."

Neville blushed and looked at the floor. "It was nice to meet you, too, Luna." 

"Congratulations on your new wand, Neville!" Hermione gave him a big hug.

Harry patted him on the back. "Yeah, mate, congratulations!"

"Thank you." Neville pulled out a wand box and stared at it longingly before handing it to Harry. "I'm going to miss it. It really feels like part of me now."

"I understand," Harry said. "We'll take good care of it and give it back to you on the Hogwarts Express."

"You won't forget, will you?" Neville asked.

"I'll really try—" 

Hermione reached over, plucked the wand box out of Harry's hands, and put it carefully into her purse. "We will absolutely not forget," she said.

"Definitely," Harry said. "Hermione never forgets anything."

"I'd believe it," Neville said. 

Luna nodded. Harry was a lovely boy, but he was still a boy. Best to leave this task to a professional. But…"Neville, why can't you keep your wand?"

"My Gran wants me to use my Father's wand," Neville replied. "But I can't get it to work well and Sirius and Hermione said it's not likely to ever work for me. I'm not going to tell her I got this one today."

"I'm sorry," Luna said. "She must have an awful lot of wrackspurts."

Neville looked confused, but before he could respond, Remus said, "I'm sorry, too, Mr. Longbottom. Your father was a good man and I think you're going to be a good man one day, too, but you are not and will never be him. You're going to be your own good man, a mixture of your father and mother that will make both of them proud. Don't forget that."

The boy stood a little straighter. "I won't, sir."

Behind him, Hestia seemed to have accumulated at least half a dozen wrackspurts in the space of a minute, but she was keeping her expression neutral. Mostly. Luna suppressed a sigh. Sirius was going to have his work cut out for him helping her with those.

"Remus is right," Sirius said. "Harry, if you're willing, I can set up a meeting with you and Remus sometime so he can tell you more about your parents. He knew your mother better than I did, so I'll bet he has some great stories about her."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, if you think he'd be interested."

Luna had to fight the urge to wince at the pained expression that flitted across the man's face at Harry's comment. Hermione's eyes narrowed and Luna was almost disturbed at the satisfaction written in them, at least until a few memories clicked together.

Hermione, screaming and cursing about Lockhart's lies, referring to Harry's childhood as a "parade of horrors."

Harry, telling her "I grew up with my aunt and uncle until the Grangers rescued me."

Remus, looking horrified when she told him Harry had grown up with a woman named "Petunia."

That look in Hermione's eyes wasn't sadism or delight. It was vengeance for the childhood of the boy she clearly loved, and Luna hoped nobody else ever gave Hermione cause to look at them like that. It could get messy.

Luna also wondered if she could ever love someone that much, that violently. Love that strong was almost terrifying, but at the same time drew her like a moth to a lamp. She could see why poets she'd found on her father's bookshelf wrote about getting lost in feelings like that, taking great gulps of the very thing in which they were drowning.

She felt like she shouldn't want that, but she did. Very much so.

Chapter Text

When Sirius returned to Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour after side-along apparating Neville to the woods just outside of his wards, the kids all seemed fine. Harry, Hermione, and Luna were happily munching on bowls of ice cream so large that even Sirius felt a brief pang of sympathy for the parents to whom he was shortly going to return them. Hestia, though, was merely sipping on a butterbeer and looking at him like he was a patch of mud on her shoes.

Unlike James, who'd usually been too happy Lily was looking at him at all to be concerned about a look like this, Sirius recognized he was in a great deal of trouble for something. He had no idea what, but had no doubt Hestia would enlighten him at some length when they were alone. He wasn't looking forward to that, but another part of him just wanted to get it over with. He hated having that sort of feeling hanging over his head.

Buying himself a bowl of ice cream helped him ignore that feeling, but not as much as he'd have liked. He occasionally caught a pitying glance from Luna while he ate…that child was too perceptive for anyone's good.

After they finished their ice cream, Sirius summoned Dobby. The two of them apparated Harry and Hermione home while Hestia took Luna back to The Rook. Afterward, Sirius apparated back to his flat and leaned on the fireplace next to the floo control. He didn't have to wait long.

"Sirius?" Hestia's familiar voice said as the fire flared green. "May I—"

He tapped the floo control runes. 

"Thank you." She stepped smoothly through and turned to glare at him. "I'm going to ask you one question, Sirius, and you're going to answer me truthfully or I'm going to floo directly to Longbottom Manor. Did Regent Longbottom know you were taking her grandson to Diagon Alley today?"

Sirius sighed. Hestia reminded him just enough of Lily that he didn't even consider the possibility she was bluffing. "No, she didn't."

"Damn it, you can't just lure children away from their homes!" Hestia shouted at him. "You as good as kidnapped that child!"

"Kidnapped?" Sirius frowned. "He came willingly and I didn't even meet up with him until we were on the Knight Bus."

"Oh, sure, because ten-year-olds are able to consent to that sort of thing," Hestia said. What are you trying to teach him? That it's alright to sneak out of the house if an adult promises you treats?"

"Of course not!" Sirius shouted back. "He needed a wand and this was our plan to get him one."

" Our plan?" She put a hand over her eyes. "Merlin, the children were in on this, too, weren't they?"

"It was a team effort." Sirius hadn't meant to get Harry and Hermione in trouble.

"You're supposed to be the adult in the room." Hestia removed her hand from her eyes so she could point at him. "What in Merlin's name were you thinking?"

"That he needed a wand!" Sirius shot back. "It's not like we're going to have a lot of opportunities to sneak him to Diagon Alley to get him fitted for it."

"That's his guardian's responsibility, not yours." Hestia gestured wildly as she spoke. "You need to convince Regent Longbottom to get him one herself, not steal her child out from under her nose."

"I can't convince her because she's fucking insane !" Sirius shot back. "There's no way she's going to let him get another wand because she's too hung up on Frank. I think she'd rather he didn't have magic at all than admit he wasn't a replacement for her son."

"There are lots of insane parents out there." Hestia shook her head. "Believe me, I know. You can't just steal all of their children whenever they do something stupid."

"I couldn't just let her deny him a wand!" 

"Why not?" Hestia snapped. "Why in Merlin's name is it your business whether he—"

" Because James is fucking dead! " Sirius roared, and Hestia paled and took a step back. " His godfather is dead and Frank and Alice are lost and Augusta is insane and the McKinnons were massacred and Remus fucked off and Peter betrayed us and I'm the only one left and I don't know what to do! "

He spun around and ran his fingers through his hair. "You think I want this kind of responsibility? I was a fucked-up teenager who was a barely functional soldier in the last war, was trapped in prison for years while Dementors gnawed on my soul, and now children need me and I don't know what to do! If Frank or James had seen that boy without a wand, they would have talked some sense into Augusta and made everything work out perfectly, but I'm not them. They were lords, born and bred, and knew how to bring people like Augusta around. I never figured out how to behave like that and Neville didn't deserve to suffer because I'm useless."

A bitter laugh caused Sirius to turn back around. Hestia stood where he'd left her, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Merlin fuck, Sirius," she said, "this was easier when I thought you were just fucking around, but it's so much worse than I thought. Everything is so much worse than I thought: Harry, Neville, the war, Morganna only knows what else. I'm trying to be a responsible adult because that's the only thing I've ever been good at, but that's not enough, is it? What does 'responsible' even mean when everyone around you is so fucking traumatised they can barely function?"

Sirius shrugged and took a couple of steps toward her. "Fuck if I know. Listen, I'm sorry for dragging you into this. You're right that this was a stupid idea. I just…once the kids learnt how Neville was being treated, they demanded we do something. I knew it was wrong, but I…I don't want to be the one who teaches them to see someone being mistreated and do nothing . Lots of people are going to teach them that lesson: the professors at Hogwarts, officials in our government…our whole society, really. I just couldn't face myself if it were me. They…they think I'm better than that, and it's been so long since anyone thought I was better that I can't bear to let them down."

"You are better," Hestia said. "I think you did the right thing."

"You were right, though." Sirius looked down at the floor just to avoid her tear-filled eyes. "I put Neville in some danger and kind of kidnapped him. That was stupid and reckless."

"But it was right ." The witch took a hesitant step toward him. "It was reckless and childish, but at least you did something. How many other people in that child's life saw how he was being treated and looked the other way? You and the children saw it and did something about it. It's the same as what happened with Dobby. Was your solution the most responsible one? Possibly not, but you and the children are the only people I've ever heard of who were willing to solve that problem in the first place."

Sirius shot her a sad smile. "'Reckless, childish, and right?' I'll take it. Maybe at some point I'll get the hang of this whole 'adulting' thing, but right now that's the best I'm probably going to be able to do. You know, you shouldn't deprecate your ability to be a responsible adult like you were a minute ago. There's a lot to be said for that."

"Ideally, yes, but you have to know when to stop ," Hestia replied. "I'd been trying to understand why I was never able to make really close friends in Hogwarts, and something Luna said today crystallised it for me. I was like Hermione in school and never appreciated all of the weird, irrational things around me, and I think that bled over into not really appreciating the people, either, and all of their individual quirks. I was always responsible and always tried to play by the rules and help other people play by the rules, but I never gave myself a break to have fun and enjoy my friends. Luna just turned ten and she has a better grasp on how to live life well than I do."

"In your defence," Sirius said, "Luna probably has a better grasp of the mysteries of life than the rest of us put together. She's terrifying."

Hestia smiled. "That's fair."

"Besides, you've got the hard part down, from what I can tell," Sirius said. "You've got the rest of your life to figure out how to enjoy yourself."

"I suppose so," Hestia said. "I don't think it's quite as easy as you make it out to be."

Sirius wanted to say, "I could show you," but she was his employee, so all he said was, "You'll get the hang of it." A phantasm of adolescent Sirius mentally jeered at him for his restraint, but he ignored him because adolescent Sirius was a little arsehole. Instead, he continued, "Listen, I'm sorry about today. Do you want tomorrow off? I'll pay you anyway."

"No, no, it's alright," Hestia said quickly. "I want…I mean, I don't need a day off. Today was lov…er…quite nice, leaving aside our argument. I'd be happy to come in tomorrow."

"If you're sure," Sirius said. Was she blushing?

"I am." She took a deep breath. "As we were arguing, there was a part of me screaming at me to shut up and that you might sack me, but I ignored it because I knew you wouldn't. You're a shite Lord Black, Sirius, but a damn good man."

He grinned. "That's one of the best compliments I've ever received."

Hestia returned his grin. "You deserve it. I should get home, though. Have a good evening."

"You, too," Sirius said. A moment later he was alone again with only his big, stupid grin for company.

It was enough. 

The footsteps creeping down the stairs didn't surprise Hermione at all that night, nor did the fact that she was still awake to hear them at half one in the morning. She followed Harry downstairs, sat next to him on the sofa, and stared at the darkened yard with him for at least ten minutes before either of them spoke. 

"I'm not sure I can do this." Harry kept staring out the window as he spoke. "I barely even know any magic."

Hermione took Harry's left hand in her right and he held on like she was a life preserver. "You don't have to do it yet," she told him. "You'll grow into it."

"What if I don't want to, though?" Harry finally turned to look at her, only a bit of stray moonlight and a distant streetlight sparkling in his emerald eyes.

"Then we'll get you out of it somehow," Hermione said. "I'm sure there's a way to destroy those things."

"Death might not like that," Harry said. 

"I have a theory on that," Hermione replied.

Harry grinned. "Of course you do."

She flipped some hair over her shoulder in what she hoped was a dismissive manner. "Of course I do."

He laughed quietly and elbowed her. "Care to share it with the rest of the class?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely," she said, "let's assume Death is the most powerful entity out there. If that's the case, he/she/it should have no trouble making those items indestructible by mere humans, so there's nothing we could do to inconvenience it. Assume Death isn't that powerful, though. Then, instead of destroying the items, perhaps we could seek assistance from some sort of more powerful entity that can protect us."

"That makes a lot of sense," Harry said. "It's certainly worth trying if we have to. I mean, I don't want to tick Death off, but I don't want to be its slave, either."

Hermione gave his hand a squeeze. "That's a very mature attitude." She bit her lower lip for a moment, thinking.

"What's on your mind?" Harry asked. 

"Do you remember why Gwendolena said she left Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded. "Something about the Headmaster asking her questions that only I had a right to."

"Yes. She said she'd been in the shop for years, though, which means that she wasn't talking about the current Headmaster, but…"

"Headmaster Dumbledore," Harry said.

"Precisely. He may know of your title, Harry."

"Bloody Hell. Do you think that's why he sent me to live with the Dursleys'?"

Hermione ignored the language, since she thought it was a reasonable reaction on his part to the news that his abusive childhood may have been intentional. "I don't know. We still don't really know what your title means, but it sounds like it's powerful. What if he wanted you mentally weaker and more desperate for his—or anyone's—approval?"

"That could be." Harry stared thoughtfully out at the darkness. "We'll have to be careful of him until we know more about what he's after."

"Definitely." She shook her head. "You may be the single most popular ten-year-old in the world, do you know that? People are obsessed with you."

"No, they're obsessed with a title they've made up for me or a destiny they think they know," Harry said. "None of them give a toss about Harry Potter. If I could just give someone the Hallows, a lot of people would go back to ignoring me."

"That's depressingly true," Hermione said. "You probably shouldn't, though."

"I probably shouldn't," Harry agreed. "I get the feeling that nobody who actually wants to be Master of Death should be allowed to do it."

"I suspect you're right." Hermione thought for a moment. "Harry…I don't want to make you sad, but I'm surprised you're not more interested in the Resurrection Stone." 

He shrugged. "I kind of am, but it sounds like that whole experience is uncomfortable for the ghosts and look at how that brother ended up. I don't want to hurt my parents or end up like that guy."

"That's also very mature." Hermione leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I know you don't want to be Master of Death, but I think you're going to do a great job at it."

"That's nice of you, but we don't even know what the job entails yet." Harry might have been blushing, but in the dim light it was impossible to tell. 

"I don't have to," Hermione said. "You don't want power like Antioch or dwell on ghosts like Cadmus. You're a worthy descendent of Ignotus, Harry."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me." Harry laid his head on her shoulder and snuggled in a little.

She smiled. "Not ready to go to bed, I take it?"

"Not really. I like it here and my brain has been going a mile a minute since Gwendolena disappeared. Now that it's just us, I can finally…" he yawned, "...relax."

"We can stay, then," Hermione said. "I like it here, too."

"That works out nicely, then," Harry said.

They stared out into the darkness in companionable silence for just long enough for Hermione to think Harry had fallen asleep when he spoke up again. "Today was really fun…well, otherwise, I mean."

"I thought so, too," Hermione replied. 

"Sirius and Hestia work well together and they seem to like each other," Harry said. "Do you think they might get married one day?"

"That wouldn't be appropriate at all ," Hermione said. "She's his employee."

"I know, I know," Harry said. "I think he really likes her, though, and don't you think she likes him, too?"

"I think she might," Hermione allowed. 

"She'll probably be done working for him soon. Maybe then they could start dating."

"That would probably be OK. Why are you trying to set Sirius up with someone, though?"

Harry shrugged, a gesture Hermione felt more than saw from how they were sitting. "It's nice to have more friends now that we know Neville and Luna, but that's just made it more obvious to me how Sirius doesn't really have anyone besides us. He's going to be really lonely when we go off to Hogwarts."

"I see what you mean." Hermione bit her lower lip and thought for a bit. "And Hestia does seem like she's a good fit for him."

"Should we try—"

"Definitely not," Hermione said firmly. "The two of them need to sort it out for themselves. We could mess it up if we got involved."

"Oh, fine," Harry said. "It would be fun, though."

Hermione allowed herself a smile in the darkness where she knew Harry couldn't see it. "Harry Potter, when did you become such a romantic?"

"Dunno. Maybe it was when I got engaged as an eight-year-old ."

She giggled. "So I'm the bad influence?"

"Yes, so you have to buy me Pixie Stix now. It's in The Rules."

 "We have the best rules," Hermione said contentedly.

"We really do," Harry replied as they settled in to watch the night pass around them. 

Unfortunately, dawn comes late in London in March, so they were awoken a bit before it by the sound of one of their parents showering. They had to sneak upstairs as fast as possible before being discovered and, while Hermione was cross about the possibility of getting in trouble, she had to admit her heart melted a little when Harry thanked her for helping him clear his head and get a good night's sleep after the events of the previous day. For some reason, getting in trouble didn't seem quite so bad if it helped Harry.

Chapter Text

True to her word, Hestia did show up for work the next day, and for the next week she and Sirius worked overtime to clear out some of the last remaining cursed artefacts and Dark magic from 12 Grimmauld Place. Finally, they came to the part Sirius had been putting off: the bedrooms.

"On second thought," Sirius said as they stared at the door with an old bronze nameplate emblazoned with his name, "let's not do my bedroom. It is a silly place."

Hestia rolled her eyes. "That was such a strange movie, and the ending made no sense! No using quotations from it to get out of doing work."

"I'm just not sure it's really necessary. Maybe you could take a break and I could do it myself."

"Not a chance," she replied. "No unnecessary risks. We have no idea what might be in there and I don't want either of us operating alone in this house. I've seen enough Dark and cursed artefacts in the last couple of months to last me a lifetime."

"I wouldn't have left any of those in my bedroom, though!" Sirius said.

She arched her eyebrows. "Would Kreacher?"

Sirius sighed. "Fine, let's go in. Just…don't look too closely at the walls." He opened the door and Hestia walked in. The witch cast a battery of detection spells as she moved, and Sirius had to admit she didn't seem to pay one whit of attention to the walls or anything else until the detection spells all indicated there was no threat.

"The Gryffindor Common Room floo'd," she said when she finished casting. "It wants its furniture back."

"Very funny." Sirius looked around at all of the Gryffindor banners on the wall, the Gryffindor-coloured scarlet and gold bedspread, and scarlet and gold curtains, though the colours were somewhat muted by the thick layer of dust everywhere. "I was the first member of my family not to sort into Slytherin. I had to either have some pride in that or walk around with my tail between my legs for the rest of my life."

"I understand…though I think this is the first time I've ever heard anyone use that figure of speech and actually mean it," Hestia said.

Sirius chuckled. "Yeah. So…um…sorry about the posters."

"Were these also to stick it to your family?" Hestia gestured expansively at the posters of scantily clad women covering the walls so thickly they'd functionally replaced the wallpaper.

"Well, that and I liked them." Sirius scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. "It was fun to make Regulus uncomfortable, too. He was a blood bigot and hated how attractive he found them all."

"I admit that sounds kind of funny," Hestia said.

"It was, but I think that joke's over." Sirius raised his wand and cast the Counter-Charm to the obscure Permanent Sticking Charm he'd used, and all of the posters began to flutter to the ground. Another wave of his wand caught them all and floated the pile onto the bed. "I want to go through those just in case James or someone wrote anything on one, but after that I'll get rid of them."

"It's your business what you do with them," Hestia said evenly.

"I know, and I'm getting rid of them," Sirius said. 

She nodded and began casting detection spells on all of the large items in the room, just in case the door had blocked anything. Sirius cast the more basic detection spells for doxies and giant spiders to ensure nothing interrupted them while keeping an eye on their surroundings, which allowed Hestia to focus on the more advanced detection magic. After about ten minutes, though, she stopped and nodded. 

"This room is clear," she said. "I guess there's something to the old cursebreaking adage that Dark calls to Dark. You've probably the Lightest room in this whole house." 

"I'm afraid so," Sirius said. "That's another reason my mother threw me out."

"She was awful." Hestia nodded. "I don't believe it took me and Dobby to get her stupid portrait down."

"I do. She was definitely the kind of person who would want to inflict herself on as many future generations as possible."

"Lovely." Hestia gestured at the door. "Shall we investigate the other bedroom?"

"I suppose." Sirius sighed. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Everything about it reminds me how I failed my younger brother. He was a decent kid and I tried to shield him from our parents, but I couldn't always and after I was thrown out I couldn't help him at all. He later joined up with Voldemort and died in the war." He looked down at his feet, at the familiar old walnut flooring. "The Dementors used to torture me with the idea that I could have prevented that had I been stronger."

"That's awful!" Hestia put her hand on his arm. "You endured more in that house than any child should have had to endure. You can't blame yourself for the fact you couldn't undergo even more torture for the barest chance to have helped your brother choose a different path. You did more than anyone else would have, and, even with your horrible parents, your brother does bear some responsibility for the path he eventually chose."

"I know," Sirius said, "but it's hard for me to think of him as anything besides a little kid, not someone who deserved to die for what he'd done."

"Maybe you're lucky you didn't see much of him after you were thrown out, then," Hestia said. "You get to keep the memories you have of him as a child, not the man he was growing into."

"Maybe. That's depressing to think about. And awful. Depressing and awful."

"That's a good summary of the whole war." Hestia sighed. "Come on, let's get this over with. I hate to say this, but stay on your guard. It sounds like he was significantly Darker than you were, so we don't know what might have been attracted to his room since he passed."

"Understood." Sirius gripped his wand more tightly and followed the witch to Reg's door. A sign hanging above it stated, in superb quillmanship, "Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black."

Hestia ignored the sign and cast an Unlocking Charm on the door, causing it to swing open. The curtains and bedclothes were all emerald and silver, and the Black Family Motto " Toujours Pur " was painted on the top of the intricately carved mahogany headboard. Next to the bed was an ornate writing desk in silver-accented mahogany. Its lift-top was closed, but Sirius remembered it could open and fold up, allowing the user to pull out a writing surface concealed inside and also to access some of the various drawers and compartments toward the rear. 

"What is it with you two and stealing your house's decorating style?" Hestia asked. 

"It was probably his way of showing our parents he wasn't me," Sirius said. 

"That's certainly plausible." Hestia started casting her usual battery of detection spells, but stopped almost immediately. "Merlin!"

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked. 

"There's something awful in here," Hestia. "I have no idea what, but it's swamping my detection spells."

"What sort of thing could do that?"

"Nothing," she said shakily. "That shouldn't be possible." She cast another spell and stared at the weave of light it left hanging in the air in front of her. "Whatever it is, it's in the desk."

"That's a start," Sirius said. "Do you want me to open the drawers till we find it?"

"No!" Hestia grabbed him with her free hand. "Don't even think about it. Let me levitate the desk into the empty bedroom on the other side of this one, away from yours. We just cleared that, so we won't have to worry about anything attacking us while our backs are turned. Once we have the main Dark item out of this room and dealt with, cleanup in here will be simpler."

"That works for me. I'll get out of your way so you can move the desk." Sirius stepped forward from the doorway to make room for the desk to go through. 

Hestia nodded, made a tight little swish-and-flick motion with her wand, and the desk leapt a few inches off the floor. As soon as it did, the lift top burst open and a black cloud rushed out of it. The witch lost her concentration on the Levitation Charm as the cloud coalesced into a twenty-one-year-old James Potter covered in dirt and rotting skin, and the desk clattered back to the ground. 

"Your family was right to throw you out!" Potter said venomously. "We took you in and you got us killed. We should—"

Sirius staggered a step backward and let his back slide down the wall as he collapsed. "I'm sorry, James, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—"

"Enough!" Hestia stepped in front of him and levelled her wand at Potter. " Rid —"

Potter whirled back into a black mist and spun back out again into a short, middle-aged woman with her greying, dark hair tied up in a bun on top of her head and wearing a long, conservative dark green dress with a white apron.

"Ungrateful wretch!" she screeched at Hestia. "We found you a perfectly good husband and you spurned him! Too good for your family, are you?"

"No! It's just…he was twice my age!" Hestia's wand wavered.

"And had a steady income! You'd never have wanted for anything if you'd married him, but now? Your 'career' is going to disintegrate and you'll end up penniless in Knockturn Alley, you will, and we won't lift a finger to help you! You had your chance."

"No…I can do this…"

"Your only work so far has been from charity, and when that runs out, so will your food. You think you're special because of your education? You're nothing ! Give it up and come crawling back and maybe I can find you a sexagenarian who's still energetic enough for a wife."

The ranting finally penetrated Sirius's skull, and he lunged to his feet. "Get the fuck away from her!" he roared at the boggart as he stepped between it and Hestia. 

The woman in front of him swirled into mist and then back into James. "—should have let you starve—"

Sirius's only response was to level his wand at it and say, " Riddikulus ."  

A wave four feet wide and eight feet high of tiny glass pigs filled with glittery dust rose from the floor, and, oinking a crude version of Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries," surged into 'Potter's' body and brought it crashing to the floor. 

"Huh," Sirius said. "Never seen that happen before."

"The glitter," 'Potter' groaned, "it burns!"

Sirius had to pause for a moment to remember the Boggart-Banishing Charm, mostly because the groans and Wagnerian oinks from in front of him were incredibly distracting, but after about twenty seconds he finally pieced it together and expelled the stupid thing from his house.

Now that the oinking had stopped, Sirius could hear the sobbing behind him and turned around to find Hestia leaning back against the doorframe, trying and failing to compose herself. Three quick strides brought him to her. 

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he said. His free left hand twitched upward to touch her cheek, but he stopped it with a firm thought of " employee ."

She laughed bitterly between sobs. "I'm sorry you had to deal with it. I'm your cursebreaker! I should be able to handle a fucking boggart. I used to be able to handle a fucking boggart…" she trailed off into another sob.

"I should have been able to handle it, too," Sirius said. "My life has gotten a lot worse since the last time I faced one for my N.E.W.T.s, and I suspect yours has, too. Do you want to talk about it?"

Hestia shook her head. "It's pathetic."

"I know a lot more than most people about awful parents," Sirius said. 

"I suppose you do." She sniffled again. "Alright. I don't think I can deal with whatever's in that desk right now, regardless."

Sirius nodded and took her hand. "Come on, my room's right here and it's safe."

She followed unresistingly as he led her into his bedroom, pausing only to cast a Locking Charm on Regulus's old door to ensure whatever else might be in there stayed put for a bit. A wave of Sirius's wand moved the stack of questionable posters from his bed to the top of the walnut highboy, and another wave began the Scouring Charm to syphon dust off of all of the sitting surfaces in the room. Hestia waited patiently as a stream of dust was sucked into Sirius's wand. 

And kept flowing.

Thirty long seconds later, Hestia was slightly less patient. "Do you want help?" she asked. 

"I can clean my own room," Sirius said. 

She waited another thirty seconds with a gradually growing grin on her face. "Are you…um…sure about that?"

"Yes," Sirius said, making sure to make that word sound as petulant as he could. Thirty seconds of streaming dust later, he added, "Oh, come on!"

"My offer of help has been rescinded," Hestia said. "I'm now invested in how long this is going to take you."

"I didn't think it was this dirty," Sirius said. 

Another thirty seconds passed. 

"I'm really sorry," Sirius said.

"No, no, this is actually kind of amazing," Hestia replied. 

The flow of dust petered out another minute later to the sound of soft applause. Sirius glared at the witch next to him. "That really wasn't necessary."

"It really was," she responded cheekily.

"Humph." Sirius glared at her for a moment before finally allowing himself to smirk. 

Hestia blinked. "Wait…you set that up?"

"Not entirely. I really was trying to clean it quickly in that first minute, but once you started smiling, I weakened my intent to see if I could drag it out and cheer you up a bit. I thought you might need a good laugh."

"Oh, Sirius!" She threw her arms around his chest and hugged him tightly. "You're amazing. I keep promising myself I won't underestimate you and I keep doing it anyway."

"It's instinct on my part. Academic recognition is something my parents would have liked, so I never wanted any." He sighed. "Speaking of parents, would you like to talk about yours?"

Hestia released him and nodded. "I think so. If…if you don't mind." 

"Of course I don't. Have a seat." He gestured to the bed and leaned back against the wall. His teenage self's plan to remove all chairs in the room to discourage family visitors was coming back to bite him.

"Thank you." She sat down and looked at him. "I don't want to make you stand in your own room."

"I'm fine, really."

"Sirius." Hestia patted the bed next to her. "Sit."

He nodded and sat down next to her, trying very hard to focus on the fact she was his employee and not a beautiful woman sitting next to him on his bed.

"I didn't quite tell the truth about why I left my Ministry job," she told him. "My parents thought I was throwing my life away by not marrying before I turned twenty-five and found one of their friends who was, and I quote, 'willing to marry me anyway.' He used some of his connections to get me a bad performance review, and I knew I'd be let go on the next one. I'd always been interested in cursebreaking, so I started studying it intensely and resigned right before the next review was to have started. This was my way out."

"And you still risked it to stand up for Hermione," Sirius said. 

"I didn't tolerate that sort of behaviour when I was Head Girl and I wasn't about to start then," Hestia said. "I'd have made it work somehow."

Sirius's determination to see her as his employee slipped just enough for the words " You're amazing" to leap from his mouth.

She blushed. "Not at all. 'Amazing' would be a cursebreaker who could stand up to a bloody boggart and didn't lie to you about her previous employment. Or yell at you for kidnapping a child for that matter. That was none of my business."

"It was absolutely your business, and I respect you tremendously for being willing to stand up to me for potentially putting Neville in danger." Sirius left his wand on his lap and took her left hand in his right as he spoke, looking her in the eyes the whole time so she could see that he meant it. "And it's not your fault that guy was an arsehole who tried to run you out of a job so you'd be forced to come crawling to him. I'm never going to let him win, do you hear me? I don't care what it costs, I'm going to ruin him and you're never, ever going to need to beg him for anything."

Hestia's mouth opened slightly and Sirius suddenly rethought the wisdom of staring deeply into his employee's eyes while seated next to her on a bed. Before he could back away, though, she asked, "Why?"

"Why?" Sirius responded dumbly. Something about the look in her eyes was making it hard for him to think straight.

"I want you to tell me why."

"Because that guy's an arsehole and deserves what's coming to him," Sirius said quickly.

She smiled. "You know you've never been able to lie to me, Sirius."

"It's not entirely a lie," Sirius said, possibly a touch defensively.

"I know." Her smile was even bigger now. "Next door is the last room I need to work on for you."

He nodded. Something about the smile on her face had him barely able to breathe, much less speak.

"I'm going to do that one for free, as a bonus for all of the work you've paid me for. So, that's it. I'm off the clock…"

She leaned up and closer to him as she spoke. "…as of…"

Her mouth was so close to his that he could feel her breath tickling his moustache.  "…right now."

That broke whatever spell had been holding him in place and he leaned forward just as she did, capturing her lips with his own. Their hands released simultaneously, as well, to better pull themselves closer as the kiss turned into the most intense snog of his life. As his hands started to wander a little, he accidentally brushed smooth, bare skin in the small of her back between the bottom of her blouse and the top of her skirt and she moaned into his mouth. 

That shocked Sirius to his senses and he broke off the kiss, which Hestia didn't seem to appreciate. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"I…I'm sorry, I don't want to take advantage of you," he said. 

"You're not." She put her hands on his cheeks. "I've wanted to do this for months now, and I nearly took advantage of you after the night Lockhart attacked us."

He blinked. "Oh! So that's why you were acting a little odd after the Aurors left."

"'A little odd'?" Hestia laughed and Sirius had to smile at how her normal, clear, musical laugh had returned. "I had never wanted a man like that before." She pulled his lips gently down toward hers. "Do you want to know a secret, Sirius?"

The tightness in Sirius's pants was now matched only by the tightness in his chest, and all he could do was whisper, "Yes."

She pulled his lips closer to hers. "I want you even more right now."

Those were the last coherent words either of them said for a solid hour.

Much, much later that night, after Sirius and Hestia had drifted off into a contented sleep, Sirius found himself dreaming of the first time he'd ever really been away from his family. He'd been nervous as he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4, but then he'd met James Potter on the train and suddenly the possibility of a life as more than an awful, bigoted Black opened up in front of him and he grabbed on with both hands. 

This wasn't quite the same as he remembered it, though. The platform was empty and the Hogwarts Express wasn't even there yet. As he looked around, confused, it pulled up to the platform and a single man got out. 

He was older than he'd been when Sirius had last seen him, with a smattering of grey hair around his temples and a bit more weight around his stomach, but Sirius would have known him anywhere. 

He would have known his brother anywhere. 

"Good to see you, Padfoot," James Potter said. "Honestly, it's about time we had this conversation."

"Prongs…" Sirius's eyes teared up and, before he even realised what was happening he'd latched onto James and started bawling his eyes out.

"It's alright, mate." James patted him on the back. 

Sirius cried for what seemed like ten minutes before he could finally speak. "It should have been me," he said, and started crying again.

"It wasn't, though," James told him. "I won't say I'm happy with how things turned out, not by a long shot, but they are how they are. You can't change the past. The important thing is that I'm proud of you in the present, Pads."

"You…you are?"

James took him by the shoulders and held him at arm's length so he could look him in the eyes. "Yes, I am. You're a fantastic godfather to Harry and to his witch, too."

"I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing and literally anyone else in the world would be better at it," Sirius replied. 

"Perfect!" James smiled. "That's what all parents feel."

"Really? Even Lily?"

"Oh, Merlin, especially Lily. She was a mess before Harry was born. Made Wormtail go out and buy us all kinds of parenting books, mostly by that Dr. Spock guy, remember?" 

"Oh, right. It's just…she seemed so confident."

"Only after she'd memorised those books." James released Sirius's shoulders and gave him a pat. "You've got this, mate, especially now that you've finally let go of your grief for us."

Sirius blinked. "You're…not mad that I drowned my boggart of you in a wave of the Lovegoods' Moon Frog Attractors?"

"Mad?" James guffawed. "That was the funniest thing we've seen in years! Lily is trying to figure out how to make glitter dust in the afterlife so she can throw it at me when I'm being a plonker." His mien turned serious. "You did the right thing by choosing to protect your witch rather than drowning in your grief."

"But…some days I feel like that grief is all I have left of you," Sirius said. "Some memories are already fading and those damn Dementors didn't help that process. I…I don't want to lose you."

"It's alright, really," James said. "The important thing is that you're making new memories with Harry and Hermione…and Hestia, too. We'll have plenty of time to catch up later."

Sirius nodded firmly. "Got it. Thank you, James. Assuming you're really James and I haven't just lost my mind after being shagged senseless, that is."

"Does it matter?" James shot him the "I know something you don't know" smirk that used to enrage Lily. 

"Of course it does!" Sirius said. 

"Assume I'm a figment of your shagged-out imagination," James said. "If the real James Potter were here, do you think he would have said a single word differently in this entire conversation?"

Sirius stared at him.

James grinned. "You get it now."

All Sirius could do in response was hug him again and start crying. 

"It's alright, really," James said after a few minutes. He gently extracted himself and clapped Sirius on his shoulders. "You've got this."

"It's just…I'll miss you," Sirius said.

"We miss you, too, Padfoot, but we'll see you again eventually. In the meantime, take care of our son and his fiancée for us."

Sirius winced. "Yeah, sorry about that one. We got him out of the engagement, though."

James shot him that smirk again. "Oh, right. Silly me, forgetting that."

"I literally saw them break the engagement." Sirius had forgotten how much of an arsehole James could be. Merlin, he missed that man. 

"Then everything is absolutely fine," James said. "Oh, and thank you for taking care of Neville for us, too. I know that was a tough one, but I think you made the right call there."

"Thank you," Sirius said. That was a relief, at le— 

" James Potter! " an irate, familiar voice shouted from the train. 

"Lily…um…may have disagreed with me on that one," James added.

Sirius laughed. "Thank you, and tell Lily I'll listen to Hestia more from now on." 

" You'd better! " she shouted back from the train. He'd forgotten how much he missed Lily, too.

Sirius laughed again and took one last look at James. "Thank you," he told him. "Thank you both for everything"

James nodded. "And thank you for taking care of the children." The train whistle blew behind him. "I've a train to catch. Goodbye, Sirius." 

"Goodbye, James." Sirius watched him board the Express and stood there waving as it pulled out of the station. It got blurry as it chugged off, though Sirius wasn't sure if that was the dream or his eyes filling with tears. 

When he awoke, the room was dark with just a bit of London's light pollution creeping in around the curtains. A nude Hestia was asleep next to him and using his left arm as a body pillow. She stirred when he did, seemed startled for a moment, then gave him a soft smile. 

"Are you alright?" She reached up to touch his face. "Sirius…you're crying. Is something wrong? Did I—"

He caught her hand and placed a kiss on her palm. "No, no, love, everything is perfect. I woke up from a good dream into an even better one."

Hestia had gone still when he'd taken her hand and her breath caught when he called her "love." "Really?" she asked.

"Really," Sirius said. 

"Oh, Sirius!" She pulled his head toward her and kissed him passionately. 

Somewhere in the far distance, a train whistle wailed, and all was right with the world.

Miranda had just put a full tray of frozen toad-in-the-hole in the oven when there was an unexpected knock on the front door. She hurried over and saw a rumpled Sirius and Hestia through the peephole, so she pulled the door open. "Hello!" she said. "I wasn't expecting you to come by today. Isaac's at Hapkido practice with the children. Please come in."

"That's why we came by now, actually." Sirius scratched the back of his head awkwardly with his right hand as he and Hestia walked into the foyer. His left hand, Miranda noticed, was holding Hestia's right.

"We…um…caught feelings," Hestia said. 

"Oh, goodness," Miranda said. "I take it this wasn't a one-time thing?"

"It wasn't even a one- day thing," Sirius replied. "We've been at 12 Grimmauld Place for the past two days straight and barely left the bedroom."

"Two days ?" Miranda sighed. "I do miss being younger sometimes. Aren't you starving, though?"

Hestia blushed and shook her head. "Not at all. Dobby's been wonderfully accommodating."

"He really has," Sirius added. "I think he's excited about the possibility of more little Blacks to spoil."

"Oh!" Hestia's blush deepened. "That's…disturbingly possible, actually."

Miranda furrowed her brows. "You're already thinking about children?" 

"No," Sirius said, "but Dobby probably is."

The house elf in question popped up next to them wearing a tie-dyed t-shirt that hung down to his knees and mismatched orange and lime green socks. "Dobby definitely is!" he said enthusiastically, and popped away again.

Hestia put her free hand over her eyes and tried to hide her now incandescent blush. "Oh, Merlin."

"That was amazing ," Sirius said. "I think we have the best house elf in the world."

"That was certainly something ," Miranda said. 

"Anyway," Hestia removed her hand from her eyes as she attempted to change the subject, "we realised we're both in way over our heads, to say nothing of the fact I was his employee until approximately one second before I kissed him, but we really want this to work out. We were hoping we could spend some time discussing our relationship with you, Isaac, and maybe the Tonks' and get some advice about dealing with things like finances. I mean, you know how Sirius is with money. He'd give me whatever I needed, but I don't want to feel like a kept woman."

Sirius shrugged. "It's a fair cop. We were talking earlier and realised how complicated some of this stuff could get. Since neither of us have much in the way of experience with adult relationships, we figured we should talk to some people who seem to be doing a good job with them."

"That's very kind of you to say," Miranda said. "Isaac and I would be happy to help."

"Great!" Sirius said. "We just have one more room to clear out at 12 Grimmauld Place. Why don't we all have an early dinner there on Sunday?"

"Um…that's Easter," Miranda said. "Also, Friday is Passover. I'd like to celebrate both with the children, not that we're particularly religious."

"Oops," Sirius said. "I'm sorry, the Wizarding World in general doesn't teach much about religion. How about Saturday, then?"

"That should be fine. Oh! We'll need a sitter. I'm sorry, Sirius, I'm just so used to imposing on you whenever we need a babysitter that I don't have anyone else to turn to on short notice now."

He looked down at the floor. "That's another thing I wanted to talk with you about, actually. I've spent every day since I got out of prison making Harry the sole focus of my life. I feel weird about splitting that focus, but at the same time I know James and Lily didn't expect me to devote my whole life to him. I wanted to ask you how you balanced your love for each other with your love for your children."

"That's a hard one to explain," Miranda said. "It's different for every family, too."

Sirius nodded. "I understand. Oh, and I think I can help with a sitter. If it's Easter, that means it's Easter hols at Hogwarts. Nymphadora will be home and I'm sure she'd be happy to keep an eye on the children."

"That's a great idea, thank you," Miranda said. "Wait…if you don't really know much about religion, why do you have Easter holidays at Hogwarts?"

"Mostly for Beltane," Hestia said. "I have no idea why they call them Easter holidays, though."

"Me, neither," Sirius said.

Miranda sighed. "I have so many questions," she muttered, apparently to herself. "Anyway, that sounds like a good plan. Could you confirm it with Nymphadora?"

"Of course," Sirius said. "I think she'll do a great job. The most interesting thing that will probably happen is that Hermione will want her to show her all of the stuff she's revising to prepare for her N.E.W.T.s."

Chapter Text

Harry and Hermione were reading Hogwarts: A History together in her bedroom the next day (Hermione could read twice as fast as Harry, but that worked out because she always wanted to read things twice, anyway) when a sharp smack against the window on the window startled them out of their book. A large brown-and-white tawny owl was there with a parchment in one of its talons and an impatient look on its face.

"Cool!" Harry leapt from the sofa. "You get the letter and I'll get one of the owl treats Sirius left for us."

"OK," Hermione said, and hurried to the door. The bird didn't move when she opened it and, when she put her hand out for the parchment, it just stared at her. 

"Oh…um…I'll give you a treat in a second," Hermione said. 

Harry hurried up a moment later and passed her a treat. She held it out in her hand, and the owl pecked it out of her hand and then dropped the parchment into it. 

"Um…thank you," Hermione said.

It stared at her, unblinking.

"Is everything alright?" she asked it.

Its stare didn't change.

"Maybe whoever sent it knew we don't have an owl," Harry said, "so they asked it to wait for a response. I think only Neville, Luna, Sirius, and the Tonks's are allowed to send us owls through the wards, and they'd all know that."

"Oh!" Hermione said. "I'll bet you're right." She unfurled the parchment and they read it together. 

Dear Harry and Hermione,

I hope this owl doesn't inconvenience you or attract any muggle attention. I don't want to get you in trouble. 

It was great seeing you in Diagon Alley and I really appreciate all of the trouble you went to so I could get my own wand. I'll never forget that. I really liked meeting Luna, too. Do you think maybe you could come by my house sometime to visit once the weather gets warmer and see if Luna wants to come? I can't ask her directly because my Gran would have to ask her parents and she thinks Luna's father is mental. But if you ask if you can bring her, she'll agree just to be polite and assume Sirius asked Luna's parents.

If you can't do it or you'd rather not, that's fine, too. I'd like to see you again, too. I don't have many friends over. Gran occasionally invites other families for tea, but their children all think I'm barely above a squib and don't want to talk to me. I'm tempted to tell them the truth, but then Gran would find out I've another wand and take it away, so I'd be back to barely being able to do magic. Either way, I lose.

If I ever have any children, I hope you and Hermione will be their godparents. That way, if anything happens to me, I know you'll take care of them regardless of how strong their magic is.

Yours Sincerely,

Neville

Hermione finished the letter and tried to hold in her reaction until Harry finished it, too. When he looked up at her, she sighed. "Just once, Harry, just once I would like to learn something about the Wizarding World and think, 'Wow, how forward-thinking of them! I wish Muggle Britain were more like that.'"

"Yeah." Harry's green eyes were as hard and cold as emeralds. "We're going to do something about this, too, aren't we?"

"Yes." Hermione started fishing around for a piece of parchment and a quill to respond. "I think it's the same problem they have with muggles: equating magical ability with a person's worth."

Harry didn't respond, and when Hermione found the quill and parchment she turned back to find him staring at her. "Harry?"

He threw his arms around her and hugged her tightly. 

She put down the writing implements and hugged him back. "What's wrong?"

"When I found out you were magical," he whispered, "I was excited because it meant I'd be able to go on this adventure with you. Even if Sirius had said you weren't, though, I'd still have said 'yes' when you asked me to marry you."

Oh, Harry." She held him for a moment as her heart melted into a puddle of warm goo inside her chest. "I'd still have asked if you weren't magical, too. If the magical world didn't have a place in it for my best friend, it wouldn't have a place for me, either."

They held each other for a bit after that before the cold air from the window reminded them the owl was still there, so they released each other so Hermione could draft a response.

"We're definitely inviting Luna, aren't we?" Harry asked her.

"We definitely are," Hermione said. "I'm glad he liked her so much. She seemed to take to him, too, so hopefully she'll come. If she doesn't want to…should we lie to him?"

Harry thought about it for a moment. "Nah. If we don't tell him, he'll just keep wondering why she won't come. Best to get it over with."

"You're right," Hermione said. "It was nice of him to offer to make us godparents of his children. That's a big responsibility, though."

"I know." Harry's jaw was set. "I won't let his kids grow up like he did."

He didn't say it, but Hermione heard the "or like I did" he must have been thinking. "I know you won't," she said. "I won't, either."

When she was done drafting the letter (with occasional input from Harry), she tied it back up while Harry got another owl treat. After it accepted the treat and missive, it flew off, allowing them to finally close the window again. 

They did the rest of their reading that evening under a blanket together. Their hands got a little chilly holding the book, but it was so cosy that Hermione couldn't bring herself to care.

The next morning. Sirius and Hestia attempted to get back on a proper schedule. They managed to get showered and finish one of Dobby's wonderful breakfasts by half ten, which Sirius was willing to call a win. Afterward, Sirius sat and thought for a moment.

"What's on your mind?" Hestia asked.

"I'm not sure what's in Reggie's room," Sirius said. "Do you think we should get dragonhide armour before we go in?"

"That's unlikely to help," Hestia said.

"It is likely to be incredibly cool, though."

She sighed. "Is this whole idea just to get me in skin-tight dragonhide armour?"

"Not at all," Sirius said. "It's a three-part plan: get you in skin-tight dragonhide armour, get me in incredibly cool dragonhide armour, and get us both something we can use if we ever need to fuck up some Death Eaters."

"That's…not a terrible plan," Hestia said. "Not least because then I get to see you in skin-tight dragonhide armour."

Sirius grinned.

"Fine, we can get some skin-tight dragonhide armour next week," Hestia said. "First, though, let's clear out your brother's room."

"Alright." Sirius's grin evaporated. "Let's do it."

When they got up to the bedrooms, they took up positions outside Regulus's door with their wands drawn, and, on the count of three, Hestia cast an Unlocking Charm.

The door sprang open to reveal a room unchanged since the day before. Hestia cast a quick Charm to confirm that something extremely Dark was still in the desk, then levitated it and moved it to the guest room while Sirius locked the door to Regulus's room behind her. 

Once she had the desk sitting next to the bed in the guest room, Hestia ran another series of Charms over it. "Whatever it is, it's in one of the compartments at the back of the desk," she said. "I'm going to bring everything out and put it on the vanity table over there. That will let us see if there's anything else in the desk."

Sirius nodded and, with a flick of her wand, the desk sprang open. This time, nothing attacked them, and she was able to open the compartments in the rear one by one and levitate their contents onto the vanity table. There were a few old quills, some blank pieces of parchment, a dried-out bottle of ink, a couple of pieces of parchment with writing on them, and a locket of thick, heavy yellow gold with an 'S' inlaid on its front in bright green stones. 

"Interesting," Sirius said. "So it's the locket?"

"Third rule of cursebreaking: no jumping to conclusions," Hestia said. "It could be any of those items, so I'll need to test each one individually."

"I see what you mean," Sirius said. "But it's definitely the locket, right?"

"Oh, absolutely," Hestia replied. "It's one-hundred percent the locket."

None of the other items showed traces of magic, except for one of the quills that turned out to be self-inking, but the locket more than made up for it by proving to be a locus of the Darkest magic either of them had ever seen. 

"I've never seen anything like this." Hestia stared at the diagnostic Charm results dancing in the air in front of her wand. "I'm sorry, Sirius. You're going to need a more experienced curse-breaker."

"I understand," Sirius said. "I don't expect you to know every obscure piece of Dark magic we come across. Do you think the parchment that was with it might have a clue?"

Hestia sighed. "Damn it, I forgot about that. Yes, I do." She floated it over. 

Kreacher is a bad elf. Kreacher cannot destroy locket like Good Master Regulus wanted. Kreacher will make list of methods to destroy locket so he does not repeat them.

1. Placed in fire. Got hot. Burned Kreacher.
2. Left in beaker of aqua regia for a week. No noticeable effects. Kreacher is unsure what to do with the aqua regia.
3. Ground down with metal rasp. Kreacher is patient elf. No damage to locket after two straight days of rasping. Kreacher is not that patient an elf.
4. Placed under wheels of a moving muggle lorry. No damage, except to Kreacher's fingers when he retrieved the locket from the road.
5. Spent three months cultivating night-blooming metalwort in the attic, then placed locket in the centre of the metalwort patch. Locket killed surrounding metalwort. Only benefit was that Kreacher used up aqua regia by dissolving all remaining metalwort-affected metal in it.
6. Threw locket into bubotubor. Locket undamaged by resulting pus explosion. Kreacher not as resilient.
7. Placed in muggle hydraulic press. Hydraulic press broke. Kreacher disappointed, but at least stupid muggle device damaged.
8. Kreacher apparated for weeks to go down to Africa and find a live erumpent. Kreacher made erumpent angry and tricked it into attacking locket and exploding it. Kreacher find undamaged locket a week later ten miles away. Kreacher think Africa not worth the effort. Unfortunately, tse-tse flies think Kreacher is worth the effort.
9. Placed locket on slipway as muggles launched HMS Ark Royal on River Tyne. Ship jiggled as it went over locket. Twenty-two thousand muggle tons must not be as heavy as twenty-two thousand wizard tons. Stupid muggles.
10. Kreacher stole muggle explosives from a Welsh mine, placed them in a hole with the locket, and detonated them. No damage to locket. Kreacher not far enough away from explosion, so some damage to Kreacher.

Hestia waited patiently while Sirius stopped laughing. "Merlin!" he finally said. "I didn't know how much I needed to read about Kreacher repeatedly harming himself until now."

"Is it really necessary to laugh at another being's suffering?" she asked.

"When he's laughed at yours? Definitely. Besides, some of those were objectively funny. I mean, can you imagine that little arsehole fighting off a cloud of tse-tse flies while chastising them about blood purity?"

She grinned, then looked away. "Um…maybe."

"I knew you had it in you," Sirius grinned, too, but it faded. "If only I knew what he meant and why Reggie would want to destroy it so badly. Can we take a look at the other piece of parchment now?"

"Sure." Hestia floated it over so they could read it.

Father and Mother, 

If you find the locket to which Kreacher will attach this letter before Kreacher manages to destroy them both, you must destroy it if you ever cared for me or the legacy of the Blacks at all. The Dark Lord has done something terrible to it and it is a risk to even keep in the house. He claims to be the saviour of Pureblood culture, but he will destroy us all if he is not stopped. He will destroy everything . You must end him. I go now to retrieve the locket and do not expect to survive the experience. 

Faithfully,

R.A.B.

"Destroy it?" Sirius asked. "Reggie…Merlin, what did you do? What is that thing?"

"I think we're out of our depths here," Hestia said. "Whatever that is, it's apparently really important to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and so vile that it made your brother switch sides. We should probably get some Gringotts cursebreakers to look at it, with the appropriate oaths to keep them quiet afterward."

"I agree," Sirius said. "Let's lock down this room, finish cleaning Reggie's, and then head to Gringotts."

Hestia nodded and cast a variety of locking charms and wards on the guest room while Sirius stared at the nameplate on Regulus's door. When she was done, he heard her soft tread approach him from behind. 

"Is there anything you want to talk about?" she asked him.

Sirius reached out and rested his fingers on the nameplate. "I hadn't seen him in years when he died. I hated him, even though he sort of switched sides in the end. There…there was a little part of me for all of those years that thought he had to still have some good in him. I ignored that part and now it's too late."

He allowed Hestia to gently pull him around and into an embrace. "You can't blame yourself for things only visible with hindsight. At the time, he was a marked Death Eater who might have killed you if he'd met you on the battlefield. He…he might even have killed B…Benjy."

"I'm so sorry." Sirius tightened his arms around her. "I know how you feel, believe me. It's just…I remember Reggie from when he was a child, when I'd try to protect him from our parents when we were children. In the end, I just wasn't strong enough to take that abuse any more without pushing back and I ended up being thrown out of the house. If I'd been stronger, maybe I could have saved him."

"You were a child," Hestia said. "You can't look at a child and ask them why they couldn't endure more abuse. They shouldn't have had to endure any. It's not that child's fault they couldn't stand up to more abuse; it's the fault of the adults around them for either abusing them or letting it happen."

He thought about it for a moment before releasing her from his embrace and straightening up. "You're right. Let's get in there and put Regulus's memory to rest…and make sure there's nothing else that might kill us all."

Hestia nodded. "That's a good attitude. I'll make a cursebreaker of you yet."

Harry and Hermione were taking their usual notes in Maths Class that afternoon (which meant Harry was taking down whatever was written on the chalkboard while intermittently staring outside and at the clock while waiting for the day to be over, while Hermione was diligently writing down as much as possible of what Mrs. Rehman was saying) when Assistant Headteacher Ellison knocked on the classroom door. 

"Excuse me," she said. "But I need to ask Harry and Hermione to leave early today. Their aunt is here to pick them up."

Mrs. Rehman nodded to her supervisor, the motion causing her headscarf to fall a little further down over her forehead. She adjusted it smoothly and then gestured to Harry and Hermione to go.

The two of them shared an uneasy look as they packed their bags. Neither of Hermione's parents had any female siblings. 

Harry and Hermione knew they weren't supposed to take their wands to school, so Hermione didn't. That's why she raised her eyebrows when Harry fished his unregistered wand out of his backpack, using a British History textbook to hide it in his hand. He zipped up his backpack left-handed and slung it over his left shoulder, while his right hand was cupped up and holding the foreedge of the book with the spine face up, letting the overhanging front and back covers partially block others' view of the wand.

The two of them followed Mrs. Ellison out of the classroom and down the hall. Up close, they could see her eyes were a little glassy and out-of-focus. 

"So," Harry said, affecting the most casual demeanour he could, "which of our aunts did you say it was?"

"She is your aunt." Mrs. Ellison's voice was calm, yet distant, as if she were narrating the events rather than recalling them. "She said your dog was in trouble and she needed me to get you. I told her that wasn't a good reason to get you out of class, but she said it was and she was right, of course."

"My…dog?" Harry could practically feel the blood drain from his face. "Where is she?"

"In my office, waiting for us," Mrs. Ellison replied. 

"We're going to run ahead of you, if that's alright," Harry told her. 

"Of course it is," Mrs. Ellison said tonelessly.

Hermione's eyes widened. "It is?"

"It is."

That was enough for Harry. He grabbed Hermione and dragged her down the hall at a fast jog.

"Harry, wait!" she said as they turned the corner toward the administrative offices.

"Sirius is in trouble!" he replied, not turning around. 

"What if it's a trap?"

Harry slowed. "I…don't know. I can't lose him!"

"We need a plan. Let me open the office door for you while you have your wand up. If the person makes any sudden moves, start casting and I'll get help."

"That's a good idea." Harry paused. "Maybe you should go now. I don't want you in danger."

"Where could I go?" Hermione asked. "Our house doesn't have a floo connection and, if Sirius is really in trouble, there'll be nobody at his flat, and the Tonks' are at work. Given how few people know where we are and the fact that nobody's burned the school down around us already, this is probably not a trap. I just want to be careful."

"OK." Harry nodded. "Let's do this."

Chapter Text

Mrs. Ellison's administrative assistant Jason didn't acknowledge them as they entered the office area. He just kept staring at the computer screen in front of him and periodically moving his mouse back and forth. Harry had heard of mind magics before, but seeing them in action was more than a little disturbing. The door to Mrs. Ellison's office was just past Jason's desk and almost completely closed. 

Harry calmly left his British History textbook on the edge of Jason's desk and slipped off his backpack. Hermione took up a position to the right of the door, next to the hinges, while Harry gripped his wand tightly and stood on the other side. At Harry's nod, she took a deep breath and pulled the door open.

"Hello- eeep !" was as far as Hestia got before she realised Harry had come around the side of the door with his wand levelled at her head.

"Hestia?" Harry asked, surprised. The witch was wearing the same sort of long dress Hermione's mother liked and the skin around her eyes was puffy and red, as if she'd been crying.

"How do we know you're really Hestia?" Hermione said as she came in behind him and closed the door. "There's a potion that lets you pretend to be someone else."

Hestia's hands were empty as she placed both of them over her heart. "Merlin! You two are going to be terrifying when you grow up," she said. "Hermione, when we met, Narcissa Malfoy compared you to a crup and your mother made an absolutely brutal comment about Lucius's…proclivities. After Narcissa stormed out, one of the salesgirls said, 'good riddance.'"

"It's her," Hermione said. 

Harry lowered his wand. "What's going on?"

"I…don't even know," Hestia said. "We found something awful in 12 Grimmauld Place and brought in a Gringotts cursebreaking team this morning. Sirius swore them to secrecy and we went with them to the bank so they could destroy the object. They did, but they made us wait a long time. Right after the object was destroyed, armed goblins burst in and arrested Sirius. His Gringotts account manager thinks this is a plot by the Malfoy account manager to seize control of the Black fortune, but we can't prove it because the cursebreaking team was sworn to secrecy. Harry, we need you to come to the bank and release them from their oath so they can exonerate Sirius."

"That's horrifying!" Hermione said.

Harry nodded in agreement. "Why did you let them come to the house if they could do something like this?" 

"I didn't know they could !" Hestia said. "Executing Sirius like they're threatening to do would start a war. I have no idea why they would risk that. The whole situation really is horrifying." She sighed. "Harry…this might be dangerous. I'll be the first to admit I don't understand what's going on in Gringotts right now. I really do think we can save Sirius, but I can't promise you that the goblins won't kill both of us."

"I don't care," Harry said. "I want to save Sirius."

"Can my parents help?" Hermione asked. "I don't want to see Harry in danger, either, but I don't think we can protect Harry if Sirius is gone."

"I'm afraid not," Hestia said. "Your parents mustn't learn the secret Harry's going to learn in Gringotts until we kill He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named permanently. We can't protect their minds like we can protect yours, and if a Death Eater found out they knew it, they would rip their minds apart for the information."

Hermione blanched. 

"Fine," Harry said. "We won't tell them until we kill Old Mouldy." Hermione frowned, but nodded. 

"Hermione," Hestia said, "we might need you for this, too, but it's risky. I would normally tell you to stay here, but—"

"Not a chance," Hermione said. "I go where Harry goes."

Harry nodded firmly. "Hermione's a genius and we might need her help."

"I knew you were going to say that," Hestia said. "I shouldn't take her, but I know how she'd feel if I took you by yourself because that's how I'm feeling right now. I can't do that to her." The witch sighed. "Listen to me, please. If we all manage to survive today, which I think we will, when you grow up, you're going to realise how irresponsible and awful I'm being by bringing you to Gringotts. When that happens, please just remember that I'm terrified and I have to choose between letting Sirius die and putting his children at risk and have some pity on me."

"We trust you," Harry said, and Hermione nodded. "We know that sometimes decisions can be hard."

Hestia rose from her chair and embraced the two of them. "Thank you. Harry, can you call Dobby?"

He nodded and said, "Dobby?"

The little elf popped onto Mrs. Ellison's desk wearing a Rolling Stones t-shirt that came down to his knees and, for some reason, a cravat. "How can Dobby help Young Master?"

"Dobby," Hestia said, "can you take Harry and Hermione to the floo room of 12 Grimmauld Place?"

"Dobby can do that right away!" the elf said. 

"Thank you. Please do so. I'll apparate myself there."

"Master's Kind Friend has been added to the wards?" Dobby asked. 

Hestia blushed for some reason. "Yes. Sirius added me yesterday."

"Yay!" Dobby threw his arms around her knees and gave her a quick hug. "Dobby is looking forward to making yous lots of breakfasts from now on."

"Oh, Merlin." Hestia's blush deepened. "Please just take the children there, Dobby."

The elf nodded and reached out his hands to Harry and Hermione. As soon as they grasped them, the world disappeared around them and, after a short time feeling like their bodies were being inverted and squeezed out via their navels, they arrived in a room with walls of dark old mahogany and studded with the heads of animals Harry had never even heard of.

Hestia appeared a few yards away with a sharp crack . "Thank you, Dobby. I'll take it from here."

Dobby nodded and disappeared with another soft pop . 

Hestia walked over to the floo, tossed in a bit of powder, said, "Gringotts private reception area," and stuck her head in. A minute later, she pulled it back out of the fire. "We're ready. Hermione, are you sure you won't stay?"

"Definitely," Hermione said. 

"Very well." Hestia took a deep breath, tossed a bit of the powder into the fire, and said, "Gringotts private reception area." 

When the flames turned green, she gestured to Harry and Hermione. "You two will have to go first," Hestia said. "I'm the only one of us whom they authorised to open the floo connection, so I have to go last."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry shrugged, so Hermione set her jaw and marched into the flames.

Hestia waited a moment before tossing in more powder and saying the destination again. Once the flames were green, Harry stepped in. As usual, a series of fireplaces whirled past him…though he had to wonder if he was the one whirling and they were all standing still. He definitely came out of the Gringotts fireplace still spinning and ended up falling over a still-prone Hermione. 

"That is…not promising," a thin and reedy voice said. 

Hestia stepped gracefully out of the floo a moment later and helped Harry climb off of Hermione, then got her to her feet, as well. Her muggle dress had turned into witch's robes, so Harry thought she must have transfigured it after they left. 

They found themselves in a room roughly fifteen feet wide by ten feet deep, with one solid bronze door on the wall opposite the floo. The walls were thickly layered sedimentary rock polished smooth, and two short, pale-skinned creatures stood guard at the door, armoured in gleaming silver and carrying poleaxes in their long, spindly fingers. Another such creature stood between them, but this one wore a pinstriped three-piece suit and a monocle. It pulled out a pocket watch wrought of iridescent silver. 

"It's about time," he said brusquely. 

"It took some time to secure the children without breaking the Statute," Hestia said. "Do you have any updates on Sirius, Senior Account Manager Rustynail?"

"The argument still raged in the Boardroom the last time I checked," Rustynail said. "In my experience of such arguments, they are unlikely to be done yet, but I cannot promise you that Lord Black still lives."

"No…" Harry whispered. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

Hestia's eyes shone with tears, but she kept them out of her voice. "Then we still have hope. Can you take us to the cursebreakers?"

"Yes, they're in my office." Rustynail spun around and touched a needle sticking out from the bronze door. After a moment, it swung open. "Security measure," he said without turning around. "Only goblin blood freely given can open that door."

Harry raised his eyebrows. A door that would only open with blood? Harry still wasn't clear on the concept of "Metal" that some of his classmates liked, but he was pretty sure that qualified as Very Metal.

Rustynail led Harry, Hermione, and Hestia (the latter bringing up the rear) through a bewildering maze of passages carved of the same polished grey sedimentary bedrock, all lit by torches in sconces every few yards that burned without ash or smoke. Doors periodically interrupted the corridor, some of thin steel, some of plain bronze, and some of more ornate bronze or even pure copper. He eventually stopped in front of a door wrought of ornate copper and pressed his hand onto another needle. The door swung open at his touch and they followed him into the room.

"Welcome to my office," Rustynail said. "Take a seat and I'll have the cursebreaking team brought in." He leaned over and spoke a guttural language into a carved horn of some sort.

The only seats available were on dark granite benches that lined the back wall of the office. They weren't at all comfortable, but that seemed to be a theme there. The desk, bookshelves, and even Rustynail's throne-like desk chair were all made of that same dark granite. Harry had a feeling the goblins were making some sort of statement with all of the metal and stone, maybe that they were tough enough not to need anything comfortable or trying to prove they had no need of products from the surface like wood or cushions.

Harry felt like they'd gotten their point across and wished they would at least have put some cloth on the benches. The solid rock was cold. Hermione scooted closer to him and he put his arm around her, doing his best to share body heat. 

"What's going on?" Hermione asked as she snuggled into him. "Where's Sirius?"

"It's my fault," Hestia said. "We brought cursebreakers into 12 Grimmauld Place to deal with a Dark Artefact and bound them to secrecy. Sirius wanted to make me the other person who could release them from that vow, but I insisted that honour should belong to you as his heir. One of them must have taken advantage of that."

Rustynail glowered. "Indeed. After they analysed the Dark Artefact here, they summoned Lord Black to Gringotts to discuss it. Before he arrived, one of the cursebreakers seems to have gone straight to Senior Account Manager Heartpoke, who manages the Malfoy accounts. Although the cursebreaker was forbidden from telling him what he found, he somehow induced him to have other cursebreakers examine all of the Black Family vaults. Something similarly Dark was found in Bellatrix Black Lestrange's dower vault, which meant Lord Black was blamed for it. While Lord Black was being briefed on what the cursebreakers found, he was taken into custody. The cursebreakers' testimony would go a long way toward exonerating him, but they can't speak until freed from their vow. Lord Black is currently—"

Rustynail was interrupted by a pair of goblins wearing leather trench coats who hurried into the room, stood in front of his desk, and brought their left fists over their right breasts in some form of salute.

Rustynail nodded to them. "Kidneyprod, Toesmash. Your punctuality is commendable. Where is Grimeaxe?"

"We're not sure," Kidneyprod said. "He was following us here, but when I looked behind me about two corridors before I got to your office, he was gone."

"Well," Rustynail said, "I suppose we know who sold us out to the Malfoy account manager, then."

"Indeed," Kidneyprod said. "Without access to Lord Black, though…"

"I have his heir." Rustynail gestured to Harry. 

Kidneyprod and Toesmash spun around and regarded Harry. "Excellent," Kidneyprod said. "You must release us, Heir Black."

"I release you both from your vow." Harry wasn't sure what to say, but that seemed like a good idea.

A bit of golden mist rose from both of their right hands and vanished into nothingness. 

"Excellent." Rustynail rose to his feet. "We have to hurry to the Executive Boardroom. If Lord Black lives, you'll both be rewarded handsomely."

Rustynail hurried out the door, his unusual coterie of cursebreakers (goblin and human) and children hot on his heels. His door slammed shut so closely on Hermione's heels that she nearly stumbled, but Harry somehow managed to react fast enough to catch her and keep her on her feet.

They dashed through a bewildering maze of passages and staircases for several minutes, leaving all of the humans winded by the time they came to an arched doorway with a group of half a dozen of the armoured goblins barring their way. 

"Do not draw your wands in this room," Rustynail said. "If you do, you will die."

Harry and Hermione shared a terrified look and grabbed each other's hands. Hestia swallowed hard and nodded. Together, they entered the room.

Chapter Text

Scribe! Art thou going to post the chapter tonight? Thy previous chapter was too brief.

Augh! Gwendolena! What are you doing here?

Consuming popcorn. 

Where the fu—

That is no way to comport thyself in the presence of a lady!

Fine. Where on Earth did you get popcorn?

Thy trash can. 'Tis dead now.

But…nevermind. More important question: what are you doing here? You passed on!

Indeed. So, prithee, imagine my surprise when I found myself in thy world again.

I'm pretty d…um…surprised, myself. Any idea why you're stuck here?

I fear I've grown attached to my many-times great-nephew and those he hath chosen—and who hath chosen him—as his family. The Beyond calls unto me, but I wish to see what comes to pass for them.

Oh. Just so you know, I have no idea where this story is going or how long it's going to take. 

Then we shalt find out together. Just so thou knowest, I have the highest of standards in literature.

Really? Because nothing about your search history screams "high standards" to me. 

Churl. I knowest whereon thou layest thine head at night. Prithee post the chapter before I wax most wroth. 

Fine, fine. Don't do anything rash. One of my wife's cousins got wroth with some wax and the results were pretty ugly.

Wait, what…never thou mindst. I wish not to know. 

If kings in the Dark Ages had conference rooms, Harry was pretty sure they would have looked like this. The huge rectangular room was hewn from the same polished bedrock and lit by not just those sconces, but by two huge rock crystal chandeliers with at least thirty candles each. Below the chandeliers was a long conference table carved from what appeared to be a single slab of black granite, around which sat several goblins in pinstripe suits, all of whom were shouting at each other in that guttural language of theirs. At the head of the table sat another goblin in a pinstripe suit with shiny steel pauldrons armoring his shoulders, resting his long, pointy nose on interlaced fingers as he watched the debate unfolding before him. 

Conversation died down as they entered the room, and Harry and Hermione instinctively moved closer to one another as attention, spiteful and keen, settled upon them. One of the nearer goblins stood up and sneered in Rustynail's face. 

"What business do humans have in a Gringotts Senior Officers meeting?" it asked, poking him in the chest. 

Rustynail caught the thing's finger and bent , applying pressure straight toward the wrist and forcing the other goblin back and to his knees. "Because they have valuable information, Senior Account Manager Heartpoke," Rustynail told him. "Are you going to deny that to the Director?"

"Enough," the goblin at the head of the table said, his voice dry with just a hint of amusement. "Rustynail is doubtless aware of the fate that would await him were he merely conducting a human tour group into my boardroom. Cease your prattle and allow him to provide whatever valuable information he thinks he has…or condemn himself to death."

Rustynail nodded and released his antagonist. The other goblin rose to his feet, glowering, and stepped back.

"The cursebreakers hired by Lord Black have been released from their vows," Rustynail said. "They have information that I believe will both exonerate Lord Black and be of interest to the Director."

Heartpoke scoffed. "They're going to keel over dead, you mean. Lord Black's heir is Draco Malfoy, not that muggleborn runt."

"Lord Black made Harry Potter his heir as one of his first acts after he fled Azkaban," Rustynail replied. "I was present for that and I saw the Vow lift from the cursebreakers earlier."

"That's impossible!" Heartpoke said. "Why didn't you inform us?"

"Gringotts provides the utmost confidentiality to its clients," Rustynail said blandly, as if reciting an advertising slogan. Heartpoke's face went red with rage, but the other goblin continued calmly. "Kidneyprod, Toesmash, please tell us all what really happened at Lord Black's London manor."

The two cursebreakers nodded and stepped forward. "Director Ragnok, Senior Account Managers, it is an honour to address you," Kidneyprod said. "At ten o'clock this morning, we arrived at Lord Black's manor at 12 Grimmauld Place. He and freelance cursebreaker Hestia Jones were present and directed us to one of the guest bedrooms. Lord Black explained that they'd found something extremely Dark in his late younger brother's bedroom, but moved it to the guest bedroom for detailed analysis."

Toesmash picked up the story. "My initial thought was that an inexperienced human cursebreaker was simply out of her depth, but I was mistaken. Our analysis was unable to identify the nature of the artefact, so we brought it back to Gringotts to examine with some of the more powerful tools available there. We determined it was a horcrux and demanded that Lord Black allow us to destroy it immediately."

Hestia gasped, as did several of the senior account managers. The only reaction from Director Ragnok was that his eyes narrowed, which somehow worried Harry even more. Goblins like Heartpoke reminded him of bullies like Dudley, and he'd seen Dudley back down from bigger kids when they were little. Director Ragnok, though, made him feel like he was in the room with a predator that saw bigger creatures as merely larger sources of food.

"Lord Black demurred," Kidneyprod said. "He—"

"Ah hah!" Heartpoke shouted. "Lord Black knew and—"

"Shut your dung-filled mouth," Kidneyprod said.

Heartpoke's face turned bright red again. "You dare speak—"

"You're a soon-to-be-dead moron with a flobberworm for both a brain and a todger," Kidneyprod said, "so yes, I do dare. If you have a problem, then challenge me so I can gut you like a mooncalf and get back to what I was talking about."

Heartpoke gulped and remained silent. 

"Anyway," Kidneyprod continued, "He asked us if we could use this horcrux to find others. I was horrified that there might be others, but Lord Black was certain there must be at least one more shard of Voldemort's soul out there. Unfortunately, we were unable to do so, and Lord Black had just agreed to the destruction of the item when he was detained."

Director Ragnok's grin widened. "How interesting . Thank you for the additional information, Cursebreakers. That changes a few things."

"But…but…don't tell me you believe the human, Director," Heartpoke said. "He may have just been using that one to throw off our suspicion of how he placed another in Bellatrix's vault."

"Then why," Hermione asked pointedly, "would he have destroyed a third…horcrux…did you call it?"

Hestia paled as all of the goblins turned to stare at Hermione, but the girl didn't waver under the attention. 

"Yes," Ragnok said. "A horcrux. Why do you believe Lord Black destroyed another one?"

"Because I saw him do so." Hermione spoke as if she were giving a particularly simple answer in Maths Class.

"Elaborate," Ragnok said. 

"You can't believe—" Heartpoke began.

"I am the Director." Ragnok didn't remove his stare from Hermione as he spoke. "I can do whatever I want. If you have a problem, challenge me. Otherwise, stop wasting my time. Now, elaborate, human."

"Almost two years ago," Hermione said, "Harry's scar started to really hurt him. It got worse and eventually black smoke poured out of it and formed into a wraith. Sirius broke into our house—we didn't know him yet—and imprisoned it with the Protego Anima spell until the wraith disintegrated. Kidneyprod described a horcrux as a soul shard and it sounded like some soul magic Sirius described to us recently, so I think there may have been a horcrux in Harry, too."

Toesmash was the first to overcome his surprise enough to speak. "That dragon-licker made a horcrux out of a living being ? That's stupid even for a wizard!"

"It may not have been intentional," another, older goblin said. He sat next to Ragnok and wore a simple charcoal grey suit. 

Ragnok turned to him. "What do you mean, Senior Account Manager Handflenser?"

"Remember the circumstances of that night," Handflenser said. "Voldemort had planned to murder the child, so he may have prepared to make a horcrux out of something else. The Potters clearly disrupted his plans somehow and a destabilised piece of his soul ended up on their son."

"That's quite possible." Ragnok reached into a pocket of his jacket and withdrew a rough-hewn piece of crimson crystal. "This is a Truthstone. Hold it in your hands, child, and repeat what you told us. It will glow if you tell us the truth."

Hermione nodded and stepped forward to take the crystal, but Ragnok lifted it just out of her reach. "Do you not wish," he asked her, "to know what it does if you lie?"

She stopped, hand still outstretched, and thought for a moment. "I'm curious, of course," she said, "but I didn't want to waste any time exonerating Sirius." She thought for another moment, then smiled, showing her teeth. "When I'm done, could you give it to Senior Account Manager Heartpoke and ask him if he's deceived you today?"

All of the goblins stared at her, gobsmacked…except Ragnok, who burst out laughing. "The heart of a goblin beats in this witch!" he said. "It will be done." He paused for a moment and, without even looking at Heartpoke, cut him off as he opened his mouth to speak. "Shut up, Heartpoke."

The other goblin closed his mouth and slumped back in his chair as Hermione took the stone and retold her story. It glowed a dull, throbbing crimson the whole time, as if beating with her heart.

"That," Ragnok said as he reclaimed the Truthstone, "settles that. Now, Heartpoke, it's your turn."

With a grimace, Heartpoke took the stone. "I have told you nothing but the truth today, Director," he said. 

The Truthstone flashed in his hand and the goblin's skin began to smoke. The goblins next to him edged away, but Heartpoke merely sat there, gritting his teeth and holding the stone.

"You surprised me," Ragnok said. "I expected you to challenge me rather than submit to the stone."

"I couldn't let a witchling show me up," Heartpoke said through gritted teeth, "and I knew the stone would grant me a quicker death than you would."

"Wise," Ragnok said as even more of Heartpoke's skin began to blacken. "Wiser still not to deceive us like this, but nevertheless an end worthy of a goblin."

Heartpoke opened his mouth in a soundless scream before his entire body simultaneously ignited. Hestia and Harry gasped, while Hermione stood there, her fists clenched, watching silently. Her jaw was set, but Harry knew that was what she did when she was trying not to react to something. He'd seen her do the same thing when bullies called her names in class. 

About thirty seconds later, all that remained of Heartpoke was ash. Ragnok reached onto the line of ash on the table where Heartpoke's right arm had been and pulled the stone from it, blew some ash off of it, and put it back into his pocket. 

"Does that," he asked Hermione, "answer your question?"

"Yes, it does," Hermione replied. Harry was pretty sure he was the only one in the room who knew her well enough to hear the waver in her voice. "Thank you, Director."

"You are welcome, witch." Ragnok gestured to one of his guards. "Fetch Lord Black, unshackle him, and return his wand."

The goblin bowed and hurried out of the room. 

Ragnok turned to the cursebreakers. "Do either of you know Cursemaster Sgiandubh?"

Toesmash nodded. 

"Excellent," Ragnok said. "Bring him here."

Sirius ended up arriving before the Cursemaster, looking angry but no worse for the wear. Before he could do more than glare at Hestia, Harry and Hermione lunged at him and hugged him tightly. 

"We were so worried!" Hermione said. Harry didn't trust his voice right then so he didn't say anything at all.

"Neither of you should be here," Sirius said, gently rubbing their backs as he spoke.

"Don't care," Harry said, and Hermione added, "Me neither."

A wheezy voice spoke up from behind them. "So Lord Black is innocent in this matter? Then why in the Deeps did you call me here, Director? I was working on a better way to detect soul shards because apparently some idiot had one in their vault."

"That's exactly why," Ragnok said. "Cursemaster Sgiandugh, this is Sirius, the current Lord Black." He gave the Cursemaster a quick summary of the day's events, concluding with, "I suspect Lord Black is deeply upset with us right now, and I thought we should explain to him why we were willing to start a war just now in the hopes that he will choose not to start one."

Sgiandubh shrugged. "As you wish, Director, but he couldn't start one if he was dead, either."

Sirius tensed, but Ragnok just sighed. "What about all of the witnesses who saw him enter the bank?"

"They couldn't talk if they were dead, either."

"And the witnesses who saw them enter the bank?"

Sgiandubh grinned toothily. "Also couldn't talk if they were dead."

"At some point," Ragnok said, "killing that many witnesses becomes indistinguishable from war, which I'm trying to avoid."

"Oh!" Sgiandubh said. "There's your problem."

"Can someone remind me why we haven't thrown him to the dragon yet?" Ragnok asked. 

"Because," Handflenser said, "he would give the dragon indigestion, and a dyspeptic dragon is the last thing we want."

"Besides," Sgiandubh added, "I'm your favourite uncle on your mam's side."

"You killed the rest of her brothers," Ragnok said.

Sgiandubh waved off Ragnok's comment. "They were arseholes who had it coming."

"Just explain to the humans," Ragnok said through gritted teeth, "why we would take extreme offence to having a horcrux in the bank for an extended period of time."

"Of course, Director!" Sgiandubh said with what appeared to be the precise amount of enthusiasm calibrated to infuriate Ragnok even more, then turned to the humans. 

"Magical humans like yourselves are able to interact with the magic in the world around us," he said, "but you're not creatures of pure magic like veela, house elves, or us. That means that, should this world's magic ever die, you would continue to survive as muggles, while the rest of us would cease to exist. Magic gives us great gifts, but we're completely dependent upon it as a result. It suffuses our very beings, so a place like this where so many of us live is automatically one of the most magical places on the entire planet."

He gestured vaguely down, presumably in the direction of the vaults. "Into that mixture some damn fool threw a horcrux, also known as a soul shard."

"Or a phylactery?" Hermione asked. 

"Technically, the phylactery is what the soul shard is bound into, but otherwise very good," Sgiandubh told her. She started smiling, but stopped when he continued, "Now shut up! I'm still talking."

Harry decided it was convenient that goblins lived a long life, because he was going to get Sgiandubh for that when he was old enough to do so and survive. He liked that Hermione paid attention and asked questions. 

Sgiandugh continued, "Where was I…right, so these soul shards are obviously too small to be whole souls, but so is the soul that contains them. Both of those voids, if you will, attract the attention of the nameless things that live in interplanar space. Those innominate ones use the voids as a way to worm themselves into our plane and gorge on any souls or magic they can find in the limited range of their senses. Fortunately, their senses are designed for use in the interplanar nothingness, so our world overwhelms them. Normally, the unnamed ones…"

He paused. "I caught your raised eyebrows there, human girl. Yes, I do keep changing the name. I've come closer than I'd like to the undesignated things, so I try to mix up the way I refer to them whenever possible just to be on the safe side. Anyway, they would normally seek out the soul from which the soul shard was carved first, as that would be a larger 'lure' to them, if you will. However, by stashing a horcrux inside of Gringotts, Voldemort may have hoped that the magic suffusing this place would amplify its attraction to the undefined things and lure them here, instead, where they would first consume the horcrux and subsequently the rest of us. That's why we must take soul shards so seriously. Placing one here is essentially attempted genocide, and it wouldn't be the first time a Black has tried to end us all. It might not even be the second. Alright, I'll now take questions."

Sirius glared at him. "You were going to kill me without any evidence I had anything to do with it because you thought I was like my ancestors?"

"I mean, I did nearly kill your father during Ranrok's Rising," Sgiandubh said. "I thought you held a grudge."

"Ranrok's…that was my great-great-grandfather!" Sirius said. "I'm Sirius III Black, not Sirius II."

"Oh…well…how can you blame me if your family is the one reusing names?" Sgiandubh asked. "You all look the same to me, anyway."

"That's enough," Ragnok said. "Cursemaster Sgiandubh, I appreciate the information, but get out of here before you start another war."

"Fine," Sgiandubh grumbled. 

"Wait!" Hermione raised her hand. "What can we do to attract the unnamed things to Voldemort's spirit before he manages to find a body?"

"Good question. I've never had occasion to lure one before, but I'm going to research it." He cocked his head at her. "When you graduate Hogwarts, I'd consider you for a research assistant."

Handflenser, Rustynail, and several of the other senior account managers gasped. Even Ragnok raised his eyebrows. 

"Not a chance." Sirius placed a hand protectively on Hermione's shoulder. "He hates humans."

"That's not entirely accurate, Lord Black," Ragnok said. "Cursemaster Sgiandubh, what do you think of centaurs?"

"Puffed-up arseholes who pretend to be seers by speaking incomprehensibly and shoehorning whatever happens next into an interpretation of what they said," Sgiandubh replied.

"Veela?" Ragok asked.

"Overgrown flaming parrots who think they're special because they can beguile humans, which would be absolutely adorable hubris were they not all so damn ugly."

"Goblins?"

"A bunch of whiny little tunnel rats who think an ability to perform basic arithmetic operations on gold coins means they're automatically better than everyone else."

"Do you see what I'm getting at?" Ragnok asked Sirius. "That he would even consider the child as an employee is an incredible honour."

"I'm afraid," Hermione said archly, " I'm likely to have my hands full helping Harry, but I'd be happy to assist Cursemaster Sgiandubh if he runs across any intractable problems and finds himself in need of advice."

A few goblin jaws dropped in the room, but Sgiandubh merely burst out laughing. "Well played, child! I would take offence, but I've made fun of cursebreakers for walking into far less obvious traps than the one I just stumbled over, so I'll just take my medicine. I'll instruct Rustynail to contact you if I discover anything interesting about how to suck Voldemort's soul into aeons of pure torment."

Hermione curtseyed. "Thank you."

Ragnok stared at the doorway after Sgiandubh departed. "That was…unexpected. In many, many ways. In any case, though, I hope that explanation shed some light on our actions, Lord Black. From our perspective, all of our lives were threatened, so we responded in kind. Now that we understand that wasn't the case, we see no reason for further hostilities and would like to make you an offer to ensure this whole incident is forgotten. Rustynail, what is the status of the horcruxes the cursebreaking team found and the rest of Bellatrix Black Lestrange's dower vault?"

"They destroyed both with basilisk venom," Rustynail said. "All artefacts in that vault have also been destroyed, just to be safe, and the gold is being melted down and recast into galleons."

"Excellent," Ragnok said. "Replace the gold in the vault and take no overt action against Voldemort's supporters yet. However, mark the vault of each convicted and in Azkaban as that of an Enemy of the Goblin Nation. If they are released from Azkaban under due process of law, remove that mark. If they break out, kill them if they enter the bank and dispose of the body."

"Interesting plan," Hestia said. "You can continue to lure them into the bank to dispose of while simultaneously having plausible deniability if the Death Eaters succeed in seizing the government in the future."

"Humans have come up with a great many reasons to slaughter goblins over the centuries," Ragnok said. "I would like to avoid adding any more."

"It seems to me," Harry said, "that wouldn't matter."

Sirius and Hestia looked at him with surprise, but Hermione got a small smile on her face and shot him a look he could only describe as "proud."

"What do you mean?" Ragnok asked. 

"Old Mouldy already tried to kill all of you long before he won any war," Harry said. "I expect his next attempt will be a lot more direct if he takes control of the Ministry, and I'm not sure how much 'plausible deniability' matters to someone who's already tried to exterminate you for no reason."

Ragnok drew his lips back to show his teeth. "Just what would you have us do, boy?" 

"Well, I'm going to try my hardest to put that arsehole in the ground permanently," Harry said. "I can't make you try your hardest to help me with my fight, but I don't expect I'll be around to help you with yours if I fail."

 "And you think we would need your help?" Ragnok sneered.

Sirius subtly shifted to position himself more between Harry and the goblins at the table, but Harry did his best to ignore the tension and respond casually. "Yes, I do, for one reason: you were happy to talk about killing Sirius when you thought he was the culprit, but now that you know it was Old Mouldy, all I hear you talking about is 'plausible deniability.' You remind me of the bullies in our Year 2 classroom back in Surrey. They talked big around people their own age, but they got real quiet whenever a Year 4 kid showed up."

"Are you calling us cowards?" Ragnok's voice was calm now, and Harry realised he was on thin ice. 

"No," Harry said. "You haven't done anything cowardly yet and I think your plan to deal with Death Eaters is actually really clever, at least for the moment. There's probably going to come a time when you'll have to pick a side for keeps, though, and I suppose that's when we'll know what you really are."

"Do not think to dictate my choices to me, wizard," Ragnok said. 

Harry took Hermione's hand in his. "My best friend and I don't have a choice at all," he said. "Old Mouldy's coming for us. If you still think you have a different choice, then…" he trailed off and shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you."

A harsh, snickering laugh sounded from just around the doors into the conference room and Ragnok sighed. "Gods below damn it, Sgiandubh. Why are you still here?"

"What's wrong?" the old goblin asked as he stepped back into the doorway. "The little brat's got you and you know it."

Hermione squeezed Harry's hand a little tighter at the word "brat."

"What's wrong is that I neither want to start a war nor get caught in the middle of a wizarding war!" Ragnok said. "Why can you not get that through your brittle old skull?"

"Probably because Voldebastard already started the war," Sgiandubh said. "The only good death for a goblin is dying with your blade buried in the chest of one wizard as you spit in the eye of the witch cursing you. The things without names don't give you that sort of dignity."

"Fine. Then you're going to be one of the ones I assign to help that wizard when he comes calling."

"Good." Sgiandubh grinned, showing his teeth. "I don't mind helping a human if it means I get to kill a wizard who tried to exterminate us. We need to cull a few of them periodically to remind the rest why they fear us."

Ragnok sighed. "You and that human deserve one another. All of you, get out of my sight before I forget why I don't want to execute you."

As Harry hurried away with Hestia, Sirius, and Hermione, the last thing he heard from the room was Sgiandubh's harsh, snickering laugh. 

As soon as everyone was safely in Sirius's flat (via the floo at the Leaky Cauldron), he knelt in front of Harry and Hermione and pulled them into a tight hug. Hestia stood next to them, looking down at the floor and away from Sirius.

"I'm so sor—" she began.

"Just go," Sirius said. 

Hestia burst into tears and turned toward the floo, but Harry ducked out of Sirius's embrace and grabbed the edge of her robes. "No," he said.

"Harry…" Sirius's tone had an edge to it.

"We begged her to take us," Harry said. "I won't let you yell at her for doing what we asked."

"You're children!" Sirius said. "She never should have brought you into it in the first place because you'd make exactly that sort of stupid decision!"

"I couldn't just let you die!" Harry shot back.

"I promised your parents that I'd look after you," Sirius said. "If that means I die, then I die."

Hermione pushed out of his embrace so she could stare him in the eyes. "Then you've learnt nothing at all, have you?"

"What are you—"

She grabbed him by the lapels. "He doesn't need you dying for him, you bloody plonker! He needs you to live! The legal fiction that you're his primary caregiver is the only reason my parents have been allowed to keep him. With you gone, someone else like Albus Dumbledore will swoop back in to collect him and try to get control of his influence and money. We can't protect him without you and he might be abused and I might never see him again and—"

Hermione's outburst was so unexpected and violent that Sirius was basically allowing her to shake him like a rag doll. After a moment, though, Harry recognised the signs of Hermione starting to panic and lunged at her from behind, pinning her arms in a hug. "It's OK, it's OK," he repeated. "I'm here and Sirius is fine and nobody is going anywhere, even Hestia."

She spun around and hugged him back while burying her head into his neck, which was hard because she was a little taller than he was. "It nearly wasn't OK," she said shakily.

"I know, but it is now, thanks especially to you," Harry said. "You did a great job dealing with the goblins. I don't think many humans impress them."

"And I know most humans don't manipulate them as well as you did," Hermione said. "You dealt with Ragnok magnificently."

Hestia shook her head. "That was an awfully risky approach to the situation, though. I wish he hadn't done that."

"It wasn't as risky as you think," Hermione said. "Harry was right; they were acting like bullies. And he's gotten very good at dealing with bullies, especially since I forbade him from starting fights with them anymore after he got beaten up."

"There were two of them and I gave them bloody noses, too," Harry said, possibly a touch petulantly. 

"Yes, you did, but I don't like seeing you hurt, either." She looked over at Sirius. "That was before you started keeping an eye on us at school in your dog form."

Sirius was still kneeling there, mouth slightly open, and it took him a moment to respond. "I hadn't thought of it like that," he said.

Harry was mildly annoyed that Sirius had missed the intervening conversation, but that meant he'd also missed the part about Harry losing that fight, so it probably came out in the wash. 

"We knew it might be risky," Hermione said, "but it was worth it. We love you, Sirius, and we need you, too."

Hestia shuddered. "It wasn't nearly as risky until you demanded to hold a bloody truthstone!"

"You let her hold a truthstone ?" Sirius paled.

"I didn't know what it was!" Hestia said. "I nearly had a heart attack when I saw what it did to the other goblin."

"I wasn't going to lie, regardless, so I knew I'd be safe," Hermione said. 

"That was incredibly dangerous," Sirius said. "Which goblin tried to use it?"

"Hermione got Ragnok to make the Malfoy Account Manager hold the stone," Harry said. "He burnt alive for lying about you. It was wicked."

Sirius stared at her. "Bloody hell, child."

"He shouldn't have lied to the Director and tried to kill you," Hermione said. "Everything that happened subsequently was his fault."

"You…you knew that might happen?" Hestia asked. 

"I had a hunch it wouldn't be good," Hermione said, "and when Ragnok tried to scare me, I saw the perfect opportunity to further undermine the goblin who tried to hurt Sirius."

"We've known for years that people would try to hurt us," Harry added, "so we've been training to hurt them back. Hermione's just cleverer about it than I am."

"I understand why her parents were so mad at me now," Sirius said. "What have I done to your childhoods?"

Harry shrugged as he released Hermione from his embrace. "A normal childhood might have been nice. A non-abusive childhood would have been nice, too. So would growing up with my Mum and Dad without a chunk of Mouldy's soul infesting my head. I didn't get any of those, though. Instead, I got Hermione and you, and I'm not giving you up for anything . If I have to fight, then I'm going to fight."

Sirius broke down into tears and pulled Harry and Hermione back into a hug. They stayed for awhile before Harry pushed away and gestured at a teary Hestia. "I think you should apologise to Hestia," he told Sirius. "She knew you were going to be angry and she got us anyway because of how much she cares about you. You're lucky to have someone like her in your life and you ought to be nicer to her."

Hermione furrowed her brows. "Harry…"

"I'm just repairing things, not pushing them," Harry said. 

"She's still his employee," Hermione said reproachfully.

Hestia coughed gently. "Um…that was the last artefact in the last room of the house, and I was doing that as a bonus for Sirius. He stopped paying me as of a few days ago."

"Really?" Harry grinned. 

"Yes," Sirius said as he rose to his feet. "We thought that was…um…important context for something we wanted to tell you in person." He looked at Hestia and raised his eyebrows. "Do we still…have something to tell them?"

She smiled. "We do."

"I'm glad," Sirius said. "Also, I'm sorry. Harry's right that I owe you an apology."

"Apology accepted," she replied. "I'm still not sure I deserve one, though. I knew I was putting Harry and Hermione in some danger and I did it anyway."

"You definitely deserve one," Harry said. 

Hermione nodded. "Especially because of the guardianship situation. Now what were you going to tell us?"

Hestia blushed. "We…um…have decided to try dating now that I'm no longer working for him."

"Great!" Harry held out his hand and Hermione high-fived it.

"That was…um…not the reaction I expected," Sirius said. 

"You've both been pretty obvious about it," Hermione said. "Even Harry noticed."

"Oi!" Harry said.

She fixed him with a glare.

"I'm not that bad," he said weakly.

Hestia laughed merrily. "I don't know how you managed to inherit that trait from Sirius, Harry, but you absolutely did."

"I am at least 95% sure he got that from James," Sirius said, "and not from the Blood Adoption ritual I did for him."

Harry shrugged. "As long as I don't get your fleas."

"Oi!" Sirius glared at him.

Hermione lunged at Harry and Sirius and pulled them into a tight hug. "I don't believe we nearly lost this today," she said. "Neither of you are allowed to do anything risky again."

"Um…" Harry looked past Hermione's bushy hair at Sirius, who shrugged.

The girl sighed. "Fine, just not without me. And Hestia." She released the arm she had around Sirius long enough to gesture to Hestia. "Come on. If I'm holding all of you, then I know you're safe."

Hestia smiled and wrapped her arms around Sirius, allowing Hermione to put an arm around her waist.

"There we go," Hermione said. "Now nobody move ever again."

"This is my life now, isn't it?" Hestia asked. "I feel lucky, overwhelmed, and slightly terrified."

"That about sums it up," Sirius said.

" Stay up tonight " Hermione had whispered to him while they were brushing their teeth, so the stroke of midnight found Harry in bed reading The Demon Lord of Karanda under the covers with a pocket torch. He doubted he would have slept that night, anyway. After getting home, they told Hermione's parents the barest outline of the truth, just enough to explain getting pulled from class, accepted a mild scolding for not telling them where they were going, and left it at that. Harry felt bad that they couldn't tell Hermione's parents anything, but it was safer that way.

A minute or so later, a light tapping came at his door. Hermione was there when he opened it, wearing a flannel nightgown and a sombre expression. He nodded to her, backlit only by starlight and streetlamps filtering in through his window, and followed her down the hall and stairs into the living room. 

Only when they were curled up in each other's arms on the sofa did Hermione finally speak. "Am I a monster, Harry?" she asked. 

"Wait, what?" Harry replied. "You're the best person I know. How could you be a monster?"

"I set that goblin up to die with a smile on my face," she said, "and when he did, I felt mostly satisfaction."

"You did feel more than that, though," Harry said. "You were hiding it from Ragnok, but I could tell you were upset."

"I was, a little," Hermione allowed, "but not as much as I probably should have been."

"You don't have to meet some imaginary emotional level," Harry said. "You feel how you feel."

"But does how I feel make me a monster? I set him up to die, I'd do it again, and I may have to do it again one day, and I just felt a little bad about it."

Harry sighed. "From my perspective, the real monster is the one who tried to wreck our family because he wanted more money. That makes you a monster hunter, and I suspect the world has way more monsters in it than monster hunters."

"I suspect you're right," Hermione said. "That's depressing." 

"Yeah." Harry was quiet for awhile before speaking again. "Do you see why I didn't want to be…who I am? I'm probably going to spend my whole life hunting even worse monsters."

"You don't have to." Hermione's voice wavered a little, as if her words sounded hollow even to her. 

"If I don't, then nobody will," Harry said. "I can't imagine the world will be worth living in if we're the only non-monsters left."

"I can't imagine it would, either," Hermione said. "I'm sorry, Harry. You shouldn't have to do this."

"I guess somebody does, though," Harry said. "It's not fair that it's me, but I suppose it's not un fair, either. It just is ."

"I guess so." Hermione snuggled closer. "I'm scared you'll be hurt."

"I'm scared I won't be good enough," Harry replied. 

"You will be," Hermione said firmly. "Old Mouldy's not going to know what hit him when he meets you again, and neither is anyone else who goes up against you."

Harry nodded. "I can't wait to get to Hogwarts where we can really train."

"And study a whole new library," Hermione added.

"That, too." Harry had to smile at her enthusiasm.

Chapter Text

A few days later, Sirius stood in front of his floo with Harry and Hermione. "I know your parents probably said this already, but please be extra-good for your cousin today," he told them. "She wouldn't tell me why, but she seemed really depressed."

"Then we'll try to make her feel better," Harry said. "I know she'd try to make us feel better if we were sad." 

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Thank you." Sirius gave them both a quick hug, threw a pinch of floo powder into the fire, and said, "Tonks Residence!"

After the children were both safely away, Sirius went to his bedroom to finish getting ready for dinner. Hestia was fussing over her hair in the bathroom with the door open as he passed by, so he poked his head in. "Your hair always looks lovely," he told her. "You really don't need to worry."

"I'm just nervous," she said. "I don't want them to think I'm not good enough for you…or for the children."

Sirius grinned. "I've no doubt they already think you're too good for me."

"That's not true at all," Hestia said. "You know, I envy the children tonight. They're going to have a nice, relaxing evening playing with Nymphadora while we're having what could potentially be an awkward conversation."

"It'll be fine. Trust me," Sirius said. "We're going to have such a lovely night that the children are going to envy us ."

"We're having an intervention."

Tonks looked up at them from where she sat on the sofa, her eyes red and a little puffy. "Um…what?"

Hermione sighed. "It's technically 'staging' an intervention, Harry."

"It wasn't the verb that was confusing me, kiddo," Tonks said. "What in Merlin's name is an 'intervention'?"

"It's when your friends get together and help you stop doing something you shouldn't be," Hermione said. 

"We saw one on the telly," Harry added. "And you seem really sad and you've just been staring at the wall since your parents left ten minutes ago, and we want to help you be less sad."

"If you take us back to my house, my parents have a book on the psychology of grief," Hermione said. "That might help."

Tonks snorted. "Thanks, but nothing can cure a broken heart except time. Just ignore me and go back to having fun."

"But I don't want to," Harry said. "You're our friend and I don't want to sit over there having fun while you're sad. I'd rather be sad with you because then you at least wouldn't be alone."

Tonks blinked. "That may be the single most Hufflepuff sentence anyone has uttered since Helga herself."

Harry grinned. "Awesome! And you're a Hufflepuff, so you have to agree with that and let us help you."

"Wait, I didn't…" she paused. "Damn. I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"You really did," Hermione said. "I mentally checked his logic just now and his argument is actually valid for once."

"Oi!" Harry said. "For once ?"

"Last week, you tried to use logic to prove Southampton has the best football team in the First Division."

"I know bugger all about football," Tonks said, "and even I know that's not very likely."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest. "They're still the best."

Tonks chuckled. "Sit down, you two. You've already made me laugh for the first time in days, so you're off to a great start." She patted the sofa next to her and Harry sat down to her left and Hermione to her right.

"I've been dating Charlie Weasley since the start of Sixth Year and it's been wonderful," she said. "He's the exact opposite of most boys. Instead of wanting me to change myself, he loves me when I look 'normal' and he still loves me when I decide I want to look different for awhile, even if that means I'm a completely different body type or gender."

"You can change that ?" Hermione asked.

Instead of answering, Tonks shifted into a perfect facsimile of Roger Moore as James Bond. "Yes, I can, my dear," she said. 

"That's so cool !" Harry said. "How come you don't walk around as James Bond all the time?"

"You might not think having James Bond as a girlfriend is such a good idea in a year or two," she said, her voice changing as she shifted back. 

"Oh," Harry said. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Charlie didn't care, though," Tonks said. "We were getting really serious and he was dropping hints that he was going to propose, but three days after we went home for Easter hols he sent me a letter by owl breaking up with me."

"That's awful!" Hermione said.

Harry nodded. "And really weird. I can't imagine loving someone and suddenly stopping one day. It takes a long time to love someone that much and I think it would take awhile to stop loving them that much, too."

"That's what I thought, too," Tonks said. "I guess not."

Hermione frowned, but didn't say anything. 

"Did you try floo'ing him to see what happened?" Harry asked.

"He won't take my floo calls," Tonks said. "His mother just says he doesn't want to talk and cuts the connection. She always has this smile on her face while she says it, too. I mean, I knew she didn't really approve of me, but she doesn't have to be cruel about it."

"That's cowardly," Harry said. "He ought to be able to face you if he's going to break up with you."

Tonks snorted. "Ironic that you say that. He's studying to be a dragon handler."

"A…what?" Harry asked.

"He wants to work at a dragon reserve and help care for the dragons there."

"That sounds like the coolest job ever!" Harry said, then frowned again. "How could someone brave enough to want to work with dragons not break up with you in person?"

"No idea." Tonks shrugged. "I guess he wasn't who I thought he was."

"Tonks?" 

Harry had gotten so wrapped up in the conversation that he hadn't noticed how quiet Hermione was being until she broke her silence. There was something thoughtful in her voice.

Something thoughtful and very, very angry. 

"Um…yes?" Tonks had apparently heard that something, too.

"Something you and Harry said got me thinking," Hermione said. "It should take a long time to fall in love with someone and out of it, too, but the ghost in Oldknow Books mentioned love potions. If there's a potion to speed someone falling into love, is there a potion to speed someone falling out of love?"

Tonks paled. "Yes, there is. A Hostility Potion."

"It sounds like his mother would have a motive and opportunity," Hermione said. "Is she good at brewing potions?"

"She's very good," Tonks said. "Oh, Merlin, do you think she potioned him?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "I don't know, and I am deeply disturbed that I don't know whether someone took your boyfriend's agency away. So we're going to find out. Harry?"

"Yes?" he asked excitedly. Something about the very air around them seemed charged, almost electric. 

"It's time to hoist the Jolly Roger."

At any other time, he would have cheered at her saying that, but now all he did was nod. Now wasn't the time for silly theatrics. Charlie Weasley needed help.

Charlie Weasley needed pirates .

Molly Weasley was cleaning up the kitchen after putting her Saturday pot pies in the oven when a knocking sound echoed through the house. "What on…the front door?" she asked herself. Callers at the door (instead of the floo) were rare in a wizarding household. "Who in Merlin's name could that be?"

She hurried over and flung open the door. A little blonde girl stood on her doorstep, waving happily.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley!" Luna said.

"Luna!" Molly said. "Merlin, how you've grown!"

"I always eat my plimpies at dinner," Luna said seriously. "I expect that's helped."

Oh, right. Molly knew there had been a reason she'd discouraged Ginny from playing with Luna. "That's lovely, dear," Molly said. "Is everything alright?"

"I was wondering if I could borrow Charlie for a little while," Luna said. "Daddy asked me to help him write an article about dragons and I just don't know enough. Mummy's locked herself in her laboratory again, so I can't ask her, and she said I should always go to you if there was a problem because you would know what to do."

"Oh…um…Charlie's had a difficult week. I'm sure he'd be happy to help, but I'd better go with him in case he needs anything."

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley!" Luna hugged the older witch briefly. 

Molly nodded and turned around. "Charlie, Percy!" she called out. "Could you come down a minute?"

Charlie walked down the stairs a moment later. A bit of pep was back in his step, which warmed Molly's heart. She was sure he'd be back to his old self soon. Percy followed him down, his measured gait every bit that of the little gentleman he was growing into. 

"What's up, Mum?" Charlie asked. 

"Luna needs some help with an article she's working on for her father about dragons," Molly told him. "Would you be willing?"

"Of course!" Charlie said. "I haven't seen you in years, Lu! How have you been?"

"I've been good, Charlie Weasley," Luna said. "How have you been?"

"I've been…" Charlie trailed off and frowned. 

"Our Charlie's had a tough week," Molly said. "Percy, would you watch the stove while Charlie and I floo back to Luna's house?"

"Of course, Mother!" Percy said.

Molly smiled and gestured for Luna to come in. Her Percy was such a good boy. 

Luna skipped over to the floo, tossed in some powder, and said, "The Rook." The green flames flared momentarily black before returning to red. 

"Oh, poo!" The little girl crossed her arms across her chest. "I forgot Mummy locked the floo. She doesn't like to be disturbed when she's working."

Molly cast a worried glance at the kitchen. "I'm sure Charlie can fly you home, dear, but I really shouldn't be away from my pot pies for that long and I don't want him going alone."

"I'll go, Mother," Percy said.

"Thank you!" Luna whirled around and gave Percy a hug, too, which seemed to confuse him. Molly sometimes despaired of ever getting grandchildren from that boy.  

"The brooms are in the shed out back," Charlie said. "Come on, Lu. You can fly with me. I learnt a new Quidditch move this year that I can show you."

"Ooooh!" Luna said.

"Charlie," Molly said, "I don't want you flying too high or scaring that poor girl."

He seemed to deflate a little. "Alright, Mum." 

"It's alright, Charlie Weasley," Luna said. "I have nargle repellent at home and I think we can chase off all of the ones that are bothering you now."

"I don't think Charlie should have anything right now," Molly said. "Percy, you'll make sure he doesn't…"

"I will," Percy said. 

"Thank you, dear," Molly said. She had such wonderful sons.

Charlie held the little girl carefully in front of him as he proceeded at a safe height (just above tree level) and safe speed (just below forty kilometres per hour) to The Rook. Percy was just behind him and to his left, a perfect minder just like his mother had told him he needed.

"I don't need a minder! I need—"

Charlie shook his head, trying to clear the errant thought. 

"Are you alright, Charlie Weasley?" Luna asked.

"I'm…fine," he told her. Merlin, flying was easy at this speed. No challenging wind, no dodging obstacles, no complicated manoeuvres. 

"It's hardly fly—"

"I'm absolutely fine," he said.

She shuddered, which he assumed meant she was a little nervous about the height. "I know you are," she said. 

The Rook was close enough that, even at such a low speed, they landed just a minute later. A little girl with bushy, dark brown hair and slightly lighter-brown skin awaited them in the front yard.

"Good afternoon," she said. "I'm Hermione Granger, one of Luna's friends."

"Pleased to meet you," Charlie said. "I'm Charlie Weasley and this is my brother Percy."

"Are you at Hogwarts yet?" Percy asked. "I'm a Fourth Year and I'm hoping to be a Prefect next year."

"Not yet, I'm afraid," Hermione said. "You must be awfully smart if you're going to be a Prefect. May I ask you some questions about the brooms you rode in on?"

"Just a few," Percy said. "I need to…help Charlie."

"Of course," Hermione said. "I know you're busy and I don't want to take up too much of your time."

"It's alright," Luna said airily. "I think we know just about everything we need to know."

"We do?" Hermione asked.

"You do?" Percy asked. 

"You'd be surprised, Percy Weasley." Luna turned to Charlie. "Would you come inside? I think I left my quill and parchment in the kitchen."

"Sure," Charlie followed her into the house. Two glasses of water sat on the counter when they arrived in the kitchen, one mostly empty and the other nearly full. Luna drained the mostly empty one in one gulp and sighed happily.

"That hit the spot," she said. "Can I offer you a glass? You must be thirsty."

"Yes, I'd…no, no, I'm sorry, but I shouldn't have anything while I'm away from home this week," Charlie said. "Mum said a new potions regimen she has me on needs a few days to settle in and she doesn't want me to disrupt it."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "We get awfully good water from the stream here."

"Yes, I am." Charlie wasn't sure why she was so insistent about the water.

"I need to drink it! She knows, she knows and she's trying to —"

"Ahem." A tingle shot through Charlie's spine for some reason as Percy spoke up from behind him. "Charlie won't be drinking any of that, will you, Charlie?"

"No, I won't." Charlie wasn't sure where this feeling of disappointment had come from. His Mum had told him not to eat or drink anything while he was out of the house, and she'd also told him to listen to Percy. He was being a good boy.

"Good man." Percy strode stiffly over to the glass of water and, ignoring Luna's frown, dumped it right in the sink. He then got a fresh glass, aimed his wand into it, and said, " Aguamenti ." A fresh stream of water filled it up.

A thud and an "Ouch!" came from behind him, and Charlie whirled around to see Hermione rubbing her shoulder and glaring at the doorframe as if it had gotten into her way. "Percy, weren't you going to show me more about your broom?"

"No, I wasn't," Percy said firmly. "I was just helping my brother. Here, Charlie. Mum doesn't want you to get dehydrated." He put the glass in front of Charlie. "She just wants what's best for you. Now, drink up."

Charlie sighed. "I know, I know," he said, and took a gulp of water. 

It tasted…funny. "Perce, your Aguamenti Charm is a little off," Charlie said. "Wait…when did you learn the Aguamenti Charm?"

"Self-study." Percy waved his wand and conjured a plain wooden bucket. "That's for you."

"Why would- oh Merlin! " The cramps hit mid-sentence and Charlie threw up his lunch into the bucket.

At some point, Percy conjured him another bucket. Charlie was too busy to thank him…or wonder how his Fourth Year brother was so handily conjuring buckets.

The cramps abated after about five minutes, at which point Charlie realised he was alone in the kitchen with Hermione, who calmly pushed a glass of water over to him. He drank it greedily; Luna had been right, their water was delicious. It wasn't until he finished it that he remembered that he wasn't supposed to have done that.

"I…I drank it." Charlie stared at the water. "I could drink it. H…how?"

The girl smiled grimly. "Have a seat, Mr. Weasley. We need to talk."

He nodded weakly. "Where's Lu? Is she alright? What about Percy?"

"Luna's fine," Hermione said. "Have you ever heard of a concept called 'plausible deniability'?"

Despite how awful he still felt, he still snorted. "Heard of? I taught Fred and George that concept."

"Excellent," Hermione said. "Oh, and Percy is also fine, but he's unconscious right now. Fell and hit his head, you see."

"He did?" Charlie asked. 

"Yes," the little witch answered, her tone so calm it was almost terrifying. "Before we discuss anything else, I have a question for you. How do you feel about Tonks?"

"I love her more than anything." Charlie paused. "I love her. I can love her. Merlin, I can love her again!" His vision blurred with tears. "I loved her with my whole heart and the potions took that away from me, and now I can again. Thank you. I don't know how you got Perce to go along with it."

She smirked. 

Percy Weasley returned to consciousness to find himself up at his concerned brother, Luna, Hermione, and the most famous person he'd ever met. 

"I'm sorry for startling you," Harry Bloody Potter said. "You fell and hit your head and I ran to get help from your brother."

"It's alright," Percy said. He didn't remember falling, just blacking out as soon as he laid eyes upon Harry Potter in the foyer. More like he'd been st—"

"It was awful," Harry said, talking a mile a minute. "You jumped when you saw me and tripped on a shoe and hit your head as you fell. I'm glad your brother was able to help you."

Charlie shrugged. "I've been studying first aid with Madam Pomfrey, which seemed like a good idea if I want to go into anything related to the care of magical creatures. Your head was tricky, but I've dealt with worse. You shouldn't feel anything up there now."

Percy ran his hands over his scalp as he carefully sat up. "Yes, I don't feel any pain at all. Thanks, Charlie!"

"It was the least I could do," Charlie said. 

Luna reached out and rested her small, cool hand on his forehead. "Do you feel well to travel, Percy Weasley?" she asked him. 

"I think so," Percy said. 

"That's good," Charlie said. "I was able to get Luna's floo working again. Her mother hadn't meant to lock it and it was just a matter of re-enabling it."

"Oh, that's handy," Percy said. 

Charlie helped Percy to his feet. "Lu, will you get our brooms?"

"Of course." Luna and Harry hurried off.

"Thank you for answering my questions," Hermione said seriously. 

"You're most welcome," Percy said. "I'll be looking forward to great things from you at Hogwarts."

"We'll all do our best," Hermione replied as Harry and Luna returned with the brooms.

Charlie led Percy to the floo room and then turned back to the children. "Thank you all for having us over today," he said. "I want to get Perce home to get checked by Mum, but I hope we can see you again sometime."

"That would be grand!" Luna said. 

"I agree," Percy said as he shook hands with each of the children. "I'll endeavour to be more careful on my feet the next time I'm over, too." 

"And I'll try not to sneak up on you again," Harry said. 

Percy took a pinch of floo powder, said, "The Burrow," and went whirling straightaway home. He stumbled a bit into his landing, but still felt he did reasonably well. As he stepped out of the way for Charlie to come through, the floo lit up behind him. Instead of coming through, though, Charlie had made a floo call. 

"Hey Perce?" he said. 

"Yes?" Percy asked. 

"Tell Mum the potions wore off, I'm never coming back there, and if she tries to do that again I'm going to tell the Aurors."

"What? But…how?" Percy croaked.

"None of your business." Charlie sighed. "I know you're just trying to make Mum happy, Percy, and I wish I could forgive you, but I can't. You chose to help her do something monstrous and, frankly, I never want to see you again. Goodbye."

The floo connection cut out, leaving Percy staring at the angry red flames of a normal fire.

Chapter Text

"Scribe! Wilt thou publish another chapter this night?"

"Gah! Don't just appear like that, Gwendolena! That's terrifying."

"Nay, 'terrifying' shall be mine countenance if I must go another week without finding out what in Heaven's Name happened in the previous chapter. I hast read it thrice and am still most sorely vexed."

"OK, OK, fine, I'll post another chapter."

"Good. I look forward to learning more about my descendant's cunning."

"This time was really more Hermione's cunning than his."

"'Tis but a trifle. I expect some descendants from her soon enough, as well, so I am content."

"Aren't you perhaps getting ahead of things? They're eleven."

"And I am six hundred. In a mere one percent of my existence, perhaps two at most, I shall have the most adorably-haired great-great-very-great grandbabies to adore. I cannot wait. So write faster!"  

"Fine, fine. Pushy ghost."

"What didst thou say?"

"Nothing."

"I thought not."

As soon as Percy disappeared into the floo, Harry, Hermione, and Luna launched into a group hug. "That was amazing!" Harry shouted. "You're all fantastic."

"You absolutely are," Charlie said, "but I need to finish my part." His head disappeared into the floo for a moment.

When he re-emerged, his eyes were wide. "I did it," he said. "I told him off and I'm never going back there. Merlin, I'm never going back there!" 

Harry was just tall enough and Charlie just short enough that Harry could give him a clap on the shoulder. "Congratulations! Now, we should probably get back to the Tonks's house. You have a girlfriend there that you haven't seen at all today."

Charlie grinned. "I can't wait to see my girlfriend, whom I haven't seen for days. Luna, I'll never be able to thank you enough for this."

"I was happy to help," she said. "I look forward to one day meeting this girlfriend of yours, too, because I've never seen her, myself." She winked.

Hermione sighed. "Luna, who taught you subtlety?" 

"Daddy," Luna replied. 

"Oh." Hermione furrowed her brows, then shrugged. "In that case, you're doing a wonderful job."

"Thank you!" Luna said. "It was great seeing all of you today."

"It was great seeing you, too," Harry said. "Thank you for putting up with all of this on short notice. Oh, and do you want to visit Neville with us sometime? He has lots of cool green—"

"Yes," Luna said quickly. "That would be lovely. Just let me know when you're going and how often you'd like to go."

"We will," Harry said. 

Luna gave him another hug. "Thank you!" 

They said one last round of farewells before Harry went through the floo, followed by Hermione. Tonks scooped each of them up from the floor on her end in turn and into a tight hug. 

"Thank you both!" she said. "You're amazing. I can't say that enough. You're both amazing."

"We just wanted to help," Harry said. Hermione's bushy mass of hair made a nodding motion, so he assumed that she was agreeing.

Charlie came out of the floo next and pulled them all into a crushing hug. "Thank you!" he said. "That was an amazing rescue mission, Tonks. Harry, Hermione, thank you for helping her. You're the best babysittees ever."

Tonks laughed. "Helped? They came up with most of that plan, and Hermione was the one who guessed you were potioned."

"They came up with it? They're not even in Hogwarts!"

"It was mostly Hermione," Harry said. "We're pirates, so we stole you back from whoever stole you from Tonks."

"You are excellent pirates, then." Charlie released the hug and fumbled around in his hip pocket. "I'm dying to know how in Merlin's name you pulled that off, but I'm not waiting another minute to do this." He knelt down on one knee and pulled out a velvet box. 

Tonks lowered Harry and Hermione to the floor and glared down at Charlie. "You went back to The Burrow for that?"

Hermione frowned and nodded. "Yes, while Percy was unconscious. We tried to stop him…at least, Luna and I did. Harry wanted to go with him and help him fight off anyone who tried to stop him."

Charlie shrugged. "I know, I know," he told Tonks, "but I put a Locking Charm on my door as soon as I apparated in. It would have taken Mum a minute to realise I was there and come upstairs, then a bit more time to undo the Locking Charm. I just wanted to grab a few things, and this one in particular. I shouldn't have waited to do this, but I wanted to try to bring my parents around first. That was stupid of me and I'm not waiting anymore. Tonks, no matter who you choose to be, you're always going to be the person for me. Will you marry me?"

Tonks put her hands over her mouth and stifled a cry. "You bloody plonker," she told him, fighting sobs, "that wasn't worth the risk. I don't need a ring."

"But you deserve one," he said. "Besides, Corey told me the exchange of the ring acts as the binding for the engagement bond now that we don't use marriage contracts or life debt settlements anymore."

Harry decided that was the perfect time to look anywhere in the whole room but at Hermione, and out of the corner of his eye, he could tell she'd come to the same conclusion.

"After this past fortnight," Charlie continued, "I want to lock down the bond any way I can."

"I'm pretty sure it's an old witches' tale that wedding bonds can overcome emotion potions," Tonks said. 

Charlie shrugged. "Could be. I'll take anything, though." He coughed. "Um…so about that proposal…"

"Of course I'll marry you, you bellend!" Tonks said. "Now promise me you'll never risk yourself for a piece of jewellery again and kiss your fiancée." 

"I promise." He grinned as he stood up, slipped the ring onto her finger, and kissed her. As their kiss deepened, a ribbon of golden light wound around their joined hands for a second or so before evaporating. After about thirty seconds, Harry got bored, so he plopped down on the sofa. Hermione shrugged and sat down next to him, a wistful smile on her face as she watched Tonks and Charlie kiss. 

That was the moment Harry realised Hermione was becoming a girl , and he worried she might not want to have adventures anymore. Then he realised that was a bloody stupid thing to worry about because she'd planned most of today's adventure. All of those television shows that implied girls didn't like adventures were clearly as full of it as Hermione had always said they were. 

Harry smiled. Hermione was at least as much of a pirate as he was, if not moreso, she just wouldn't admit it to herself. He'd have to work on that…and stop watching those stupid television shows, too. 

Eventually, Tonks and Charlie stopped kissing. "I know this isn't romantic," Charlie said, "but do you think you could tell me what in Merlin's name happened today? I'm really glad you were able to help me, but I have no idea how you did it."

"Sure," Tonks gestured to a wingback chair. Charlie plopped down onto it and his fiancée curled up in his lap.

"Hermione," Tonks said, "would you like to begin? It was mostly your plan."

Hermione nodded and sat up straight. "Once we decided that something needed to be done, I started by taking an inventory of our assets. Harry and I can cast a few spells, but overall I didn't think we stood a whelk's chance in a supernova of winning a frontal assault on your house."

"A what ?" Charlie asked.

"A whelk's chance in a supernova," Hermione repeated, the ghost of a smile on her face. 

"What's a supernova?" Charlie asked. 

"An exploding star, like the sun." As if quoting something, she continued, "It explodes at almost half the speed of light and burns with the brightness of a billion suns and then collapses as a superheavy neutron star." 

"Then how could a whelk stand a chance in one?" Charlie asked. 

"It couldn't," Hermione said placidly. "Literally nothing could."

Charlie blinked. "Then why a whelk in particular?"

"Why not a whelk?" Hermione managed to hold her straight face for only about two seconds after she finished that question, then broke down into giggles.

Harry rolled his eyes. "That made your whole month, didn't it?" 

"I've been waiting to do that to someone for a year !" Hermione was full-on cackling with glee at this point. 

"I feel like I missed something," Charlie said.

"You and me both," Tonks said.

"Hermione does stuff like that sometimes," Harry said. "Anyway, we decided that we needed a subtle approach, especially if we didn't want to get anyone in trouble. Tonks made a quick run to an apothecary in Diagon Alley first to get a Purging Potion while Hermione and I went to Luna's house, which we knew was near yours. Luna was happy to help and let me lure her away from the floo so Tonks could come through. Once she was through, Tonks shifted into Hermione and transfigured her clothes to match."

"So that wasn't Hermione we met in the front yard?" Charlie asked. 

"Nope, that was me." Tonks gave him a kiss on the nose.

Harry nodded. "Exactly. Luna lured you inside, then I surprised Percy in the foyer while Tonks (in the form of Hermione) stunned him, followed by a quick Human Mobility Charm to gently lower him to the floor so you didn't hear him fall. She then shifted into his form and matched his clothes."

"Meanwhile," Hermione said, "Luna was making you think the water glasses on the counter contained the potion. That let Tonks act like she was working with your mother and earn your trust by preventing you from drinking them."

"I also cast a Diagnostic Charm on you," Tonks said. "You might have felt a tingle as I came up behind you, but I wanted to double-check that you really had been potioned and the Diagnostic Charm found both Hostility and Loyalty Potions in your system. Luna seemed pretty sure when you landed, but I didn't want to make you sick. "

"That's when I actually showed up," Hermione said. "I came around the corner and distracted you while Tonks poured the Purging Potion into the glass she'd filled for you. After you drank it, she slipped away, so at no time did Luna see her in her natural form or two of any of us."

"That way," Harry added, "even if Percy does call the Aurors, Luna can testify truthfully that she has no reason to believe Tonks was present. Sure, she might have been, but you could probably say that about any crime."

"Wow," Charlie said. "You make an impressive team. I really appreciate you going out on a limb for me like that."

"Nobody should lose their free will," Hermione said. "I'm glad we did it and I'd do it again."

"Same here," Harry said.

Charlie grinned. "I know all of those Harry Potter Adventures books were lies, but I never expected that the truth was that you and your friends were even more awesome than you were in the books."

Harry leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. "That's probably because they didn't know we were pirates."

"For once," Hermione said, "we really were, weren't we?"

Tonks grinned. "We certainly stole Charlie's booty."

"Yarr!" Harry pumped his fists in the air while Charlie started tickling Tonks.

"Pirate life forever!" Tonks shouted between tickles.

"There are so many jokes I can't make in front of them about my booty," Charlie grumbled. 

"Make them anyway!" Harry said.

"Please don't," Hermione said. 

"I don't want to get Tonks in trouble," Charlie said. 

"Speaking of getting into trouble," Harry said, "I'd rather not. We need a plan for that."

Hermione stuck her chin in the air. "I'm willing to get in trouble for doing the right thing."

"Me, too," Harry said quickly, "but I don't think we have to."

"I agree," Charlie said. "I have a plan that I suspect is similar to Harry's, but if we do it this way, none of you will ever get any credit for helping me."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shrugged. "I don't care," Harry said.

"Me, neither," Hermione said. "The important thing is that you and Tonks aren't being kept apart anymore."

"Are you sure?" Tonks asked.

"Of course!" Harry said. 

Harry could tell the moment that Andromeda, Ted, Sirius, Hestia, Isaac, and Miranda each noticed Charlie sitting with Tonks on the sofa as they came in, because minute expressions of surprise registered on each of their faces. 

"Hello, everyone." Charlie and Tonks rose to his feet as he spoke, hand in hand. "I don't think I know all of you, but I'm Charlie Weasley."

After everyone introduced themselves, he continued, "I apologise for barging in on Tonks's babysitting session like this, but after what happened to me, I didn't want to wait another minute. When I went home for Easter hols, I told my parents I wanted to propose to Tonks. My mother didn't want me to and slipped me a Hostility Potion keyed to her. She's been dosing me regularly since then, but it faded just enough that I slipped to Diagon Alley to buy a Purging Potion and get rid of the rest of it. As soon as I was clean, I hurried here to propose. Tonks is the most important thing in the world to me and I didn't want to risk anything else coming between us. No matter what happens now, at least she knows I love her."

"Merlin!" Andromeda paled and pulled Tonks and Charlie into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry, Charlie. I never wanted Nymphadora to have to go through what Ted and I did when we got engaged. That's horrifying. Will you press charges?"

He shook his head. "No, I just can't bring myself to do it. She's my Mum. Also, the Purging Potion purged the evidence." 

"Excuse me," Miranda said, "is this sort of thing common in the Wizarding World?"

"It's technically illegal," Ted said, "but most people treat these sorts of potions as joke items rather than serious crimes. Also, it's considered normal for parents to exercise a level of control over their children that most muggles would find weird, if not reprehensible."

"We used to treat them as jokes, too," Sirius said. "Then Lily taught us the error of our ways in Third Year. Brutally. I'm not proud that it took us that long to realise it, but we never used those potions again."

Harry and Hermione shared a look and she nodded. Good. That meant she was adding these potions to The List. 

Andromeda released them from her embrace and stepped back to stand with her husband and give them a little space. "So you're engaged now?" she asked.

Tonks nodded excitedly, her hair shifting to a bubblegum pink, and held up her hand. "Yes, we are. Charlie insisted on getting me a ring."

"Congratulations!" Sirius said, and the other adults echoed him.

"Thank you!" Charlie said. "Would you mind if I stayed here for the remainder of the holidays? I don't have any place to go."

"Of course not!" Ted said. "You're going to be family."

"Fantastic!" Sirius said. "I can't put your grandmother Cedrella back on the Family Tapestry, since I can only work the reinstatement magic on living family members, but I look forward to having another Weasley on it."

Charlie grinned. "I remember her telling us about that. If she were still with us, I think she'd like that, too, to stick it to old Arcturus if nothing else."

"Sticking it to old Arcturus is a great reason to do pretty much anything," Sirius said. "Let me know if you have any other ideas."

"That's fine," Hestia said, "but before you start thinking of anything involving dragons, other Class XXXXX beasts, or large muggle bombs, please remember I have veto power on these ideas."

"You do?" Sirius asked.

She raised her eyebrows.

"She does," Sirius said.

"Thank goodness," Miranda muttered.

As the conversation drifted off to other topics, Harry turned to Hermione and shot her a small grin, to which she responded in kind. They'd gotten away with it . He made a mental note to remind Luna not to tell anyone about their adventure when they returned home. 

That night, Harry didn't even bother asking Hermione if she wanted to meet up after bedtime. All he did was say "Midnight?" to her and she nodded, and that was that.

At the appointed time, he crept downstairs and found Hermione already on the sofa, staring out into the night. 

"You were right," she whispered as he sat down next to her. "It's peaceful to look out into the night like this. I needed peace tonight."

"I did, too," Harry said. "That was awful. You were brilliant, though."

"We were all brilliant," Hermione corrected. "It was a true team effort."

"That you came up with mostly by yourself," Harry said. "You're a great pirate."

She sighed. "I wish I didn't have to be. What's wrong with this world, Harry?"

"It seems like too many people who tell each other they're God," he replied. "I know Mrs. Weasley didn't like Tonks, but what kind of person thinks they have the right to mind control their son?"

"I don't know." Hermione shuddered. "What if someone does that to us?"

"We'll have to learn that spell Tonks used to test Charlie," Harry said. "And I promise I'll always be your friend, so if that ever stops, you'll know something's wrong."

"I promise I'll always be your friend, too," Hermione said. "And I definitely want to learn that spell."

"We'll get Tonks to teach us over the summer." He paused. "Is something else bothering you?"

Hermione's normally dark skin darkened even further…was she blushing ? "It's stupid," she said. 

Harry shrugged. " I'm stupid most of the time, so I'll be a good person to talk to."

"You're not stupid," Hermione said.

"Weren't you just complaining that I was trying to use logic to prove Southampton had the best footie team in the First Division?"

"Oh. OK, that was kind of stupid."

"So you'll tell me?"

She sighed. "I'll tell you. But I want to go on the record as saying that I don't believe you convinced me to do this by convincing me you were stupid. Anyway, I was just having a girly moment and wondering if anyone was ever going to get me an engagement ring like that."

"Oh."

The silence stretched on until Hermione spoke up again. "Harry? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think of that at all. I'll bet there's lots of stuff that Charlie is doing for Tonks that I'm not doing for you."

Hermione started coughing, doing her best to keep it quiet so she didn't wake her parents.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked. 

"I'm fine," she croaked out after a moment. After a little more coughing, she continued, "Harry, listen. I was being silly a bit ago. One of these days, if we decide we really might want to get married, we'll discuss what kind of expectations we have about that. I don't expect a ring from you yet, and we may eventually decide that you never need to get me one."

"Nope," Harry said. "You wanted a ring, so you're getting a ring. That's that. And also a horse."

She blinked. "You…remembered that?"

"I absolutely remembered that," Harry said. "Apparently, I'm super-wealthy once I get access to more than just my trust account. I know my parents would want me to use that money responsibly, and I mostly will. However, I also get the impression from Sirius that my father was so obsessed with my mother that he would have gotten her an entire herd of horses if she'd mentioned liking them, so I think they'll understand if I use some of that money to buy you a horse."

"Huh." Hermione thought for a moment. "That does sound in-character for your father based on what Sirius has said about him. You really don't have to buy me a horse, though."

"I know." Harry shrugged. "But what else am I going to do with the money?"

"Literally anything," Hermione replied.

Harry stuck his tongue out at her. "I meant what else am I going to do with it that's anywhere near as important as getting you something you like?"

She paused for a moment. "You know, I think you taught me something very important just now."

"I did?" Harry cocked his head at her sceptically.

"You did," Hermione said. "I was so focused on the ring after what happened today that I forgot it's just a symbol, and the fact that you remembered the horse is just as good of a symbol. To be clear, you don't need to get me either a ring or a horse. It really is the thought that counts."

"Oh." Harry furrowed his brows. "I don't think I understand, so I'll get you a ring and a horse to be on the safe side."

"I think you will understand eventually, and when you do, you'll see that you don't have to get me anything."

"I believe you," Harry said, "but you realise I'm going to do it anyway, though, right?"

Hermione sighed. "Yes, I do."

"Good." He gave her a quick one-armed hug. "Did you want to sleep down here or go back upstairs? Last time was cosy, but we nearly got caught."

"Let's go back upstairs." Hermione gave him a peck on the cheek. 

"What was that for?" Harry asked. 

"Being far more romantic than you have any right to be, even if you never do get around to getting me any rings or horses."

He shrugged. "I'll take your word for it."

In an old house all the way across London, Dobby awoke from his light slumber, sniffed the air around the little dog bed his wonderful master had bought for him, and smiled.

Chapter Text

A fortnight later, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, Hestia, and Luna floo'd to Longbottom Manor. It was the first nice weekend day they'd had in awhile, and Neville had invited them to see some of the spring flowers around the manor. Hestia, though used to the grimy elegance of 12 Grimmauld Place, still found the opulence of Longbottom Manor overwhelming. The reactions of her hostess? Somewhat less so.

"Sirius?" she asked as they made their way down to the gardens. "Did I offend Regent Longbottom in some way?" The children were a good twenty yards ahead of them, flitting this way and that to check out different flowers and magical plants.

Sirius chuckled and stretched, a motion that gave him the perfect opportunity to double-check that the lady hadn't changed her mind about leaving the house elves to monitor them and come along herself. As she got to know him better, Hestia was starting to better appreciate the sheer elegance with which he'd turned his old pranking habits into the building blocks of a clever, observant life.

"Only by your very existence, my dear," he said. 

"That…um…doesn't make me feel better," she replied.

"I'm sorry," Sirius said. "I forgot that you're not used to disappointing people like that yet. We'll need to work on that."

"Shouldn't I try to not disappoint them, instead?" Hestia asked. 

"Not at all," Sirius said. "I'm a massive disappointment to people like that because I'm not like them, but I still have the lordship and the blood, so they have to respect me by their own rules. You don't, and there's nothing you can do to make someone like that accept you. If they did, they would be accepting the idea that someone could become like them without the same blood, and then what would blood mean?"

"Oh," Hestia looked down at the ground. "So I've lost the game before I even started playing, then."

Sirius sighed. "You are a wonderful witch, Hestia, far moreso than I will ever deserve, but we have got to get you to stop thinking like a schoolgirl."

"I beg your pardon!" slipped out before she could stop herself, but fortunately none of the children seemed to notice. Hermione was peppering Neville was questions about plants, Harry was strolling along behind them, taking in the scenery, and Luna had latched onto Neville's arm and periodically staring into empty space next to the plants as if she'd seen something there. 

"You're treating this like it's a test on which you have to get an Outstanding," Sirius said. "I recognize what you're doing because it's the same thing Lily did the first time James took her to a Society party."

"But…but…if Lily was doing it—"

"She was," Sirius said, "and James and I both spent much of the next day consoling her. Lily wasn't a paragon, Hestia. She was a brilliant, beautiful, unyielding young woman who sometimes spoke before she'd thought things through, could be an incredibly demanding taskmistress to younger students whom she didn't think were working hard enough, and was deeply neurotic about her place in the magical world. You shouldn't hold her up as a standard to meet or someone to emulate."

"Oh." Hestia took a deep breath. "That's…going to take some getting used to."

"Before they were martyrs, they were my friends," Sirius said. "They were real people once, just like us. Lily was as uncomfortable as you are now, too, and I think it's for the same reason: you're both interacting with the upper echelons of a society that disdains you and trying to earn your way in. And do you know what James and I told Lily?"

Hestia shook her head, trying not to focus on the fact that he'd just compared her to Lily Potter . 

"That she was going at it the wrong way. Their game is stacked against her from the beginning, and no amount of being Head Girl or the brightest witch of her age would overcome that. The only way for her to win was to refuse to play. At the end of the day, she was Lily Potter, one of the wealthiest and most powerful women in the country. She didn't have to play by their rules. To a large extent, they had to play by hers."

Sirius sighed. "Of course, with the war on, she wasn't able to go very far with that, but it did help her face the various people who thought she wasn't good enough for James. It's the same for you, Hestia. You're never going to be good enough for people like Augusta, but it doesn't matter. Make them learn that they need to be good enough for you ."

"I'm not at all used to thinking like that," Hestia said. 

"My recommendation would be to get used to it," Sirius said. "You're an intelligent, caring, beautiful witch, but some people are never going to accept you at my side no matter what you do. If you let them get to you, they're going to drive you mad or drive you away from me, and I don't want either of those to happen."

"I don't, either," Hestia said. 

"Besides," Sirius said, "can you see me with a stuffy Pureblood heiress? We'd kill each other inside of a week. That's not what I want in a life partner, and I seriously doubt I'm what they want in a life partner. Well, I guess there's the title and the money, but anyone who just wanted me for those wouldn't be worth having."

Hestia nodded. "I see what you mean. So how should I handle people like Augusta, then?"

"My instinct is to prank them, but I think I need to grow out of that at least a bit," Sirius replied. "You should probably just be polite and ignore them. Definitely don't try to meet their expectations, though. Anyone who thinks you're not good enough for them isn't good enough for you."

"That's quite pithy," Hestia said. "When did you become such a sage?"

"Probably while I was licking my own nadgers in dog form," Sirius said. "Contemplation of one's nadgers is a sure path to enlightenment."

Hestia sputtered and nearly tripped, but Sirius tightened his grip on her arm and kept her from falling. "Sirius!"

"Hey, you asked."

"The mistake was definitely mine," Hestia said, sighing.

Harry and Neville shared a grin as Hestia sputtered out Sirius's name. "So, they're…um…"

"Together?" Harry supplied.

"Yes." Neville blushed.

"They are," Harry said. "They started dating the second she was no longer his employee." 

"That's nice," Neville said. "They seem good for each other."

Luna nodded without taking her eyes off of a flower shaped like a spiralling rose that slowly cycled through the colours on the rainbow. "I think they really are," she said.

"Same here," Hermione added.

"I'm sorry my Gran doesn't seem to think so," Neville said. "She can be pretty stuck-up about that sort of thing."

Harry shrugged. "That's not your fault, mate. I'm sure Hestia will give her feelings on the matter the importance they deserve."

"So, none at all?" Luna asked, still without turning around. 

Neville gave a most ungentlemanly snort of laughter.

"Hey, you said it, not me," Harry said. "Hermione's been encouraging me to be more diplomatic, which basically means I have to learn how to insult people while sounding like I'm not insulting them."

Hermione sighed. "That wasn't the only lesson I wanted you to take away from that conversation."

"It was an in-depth conversation and I did my best to take away the key points," Harry replied.

"Did…did you just use diplomacy on me ?" Hermione asked.

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," Harry said blandly.

"Harry James Potter!"

"So I should only use diplomacy on other people?" Harry asked.

"Yes!"

"Don't use it on me, either," Neville said. "I like it when you're blunt and I'd probably miss what you're saying, anyway."

"You can use it on me if you like," Luna said. "Puzzling out your meaning is fun. It's like having a conversation with a crossword puzzle built right in."

"OK," Harry said. "No more diplomacy on any of you except maybe Luna."

"Good." Hermione massaged her temples. "Merlin help me, I missed you talking normally just now."

"Neville?" Luna was now staring at what appeared to be a spot three inches to the left of a tiny bronze-coloured daffodil that played a sound like a cross between a trumpet and a wheeze whenever a breeze blew past it. "Why doesn't your grandmother like Miss Hestia?" 

"Because she thinks Miss Hestia isn't from a good enough family to be the Lady Black," Neville said. "There's all kinds of complicated etiquette she doesn't know and she's probably never helped her mother host a ball or party before."

"Oh." Luna expelled her breath as she spoke the word almost as if she were sighing. "Is that sort of thing important?"

Neville shrugged. "Gran thinks it is. It seems to me it's more important that Miss Hestia and Sirius love each other unconditionally. You never know what's going to happen to you in life. Maybe you lose your money, maybe you lose your magic, maybe you lose your house. Someone who married you just because you had enough money for her to host fancy parties probably wouldn't stick with you if you couldn't help her do that anymore."

"That," Hermione said, "is a very mature way to look at things."

"I agree." Harry nodded.

 Luna sniffled.

"Um…" was as far as Neville got before she spun around and hugged him so hard that he nearly fell over.

"Hermione was right," Luna said, still sniffling. "That's too mature. Neville shouldn't have to know that and it's not fair that he does."

"Wait, what?" Neville asked. Harry couldn't tell if the poor boy was more confused by the statement or the small blonde girl latched onto his chest who made it.

"Oh." Hermione turned to Neville. "I think what Luna is trying to say is that you were awfully specific about the importance of unconditional love, specific enough that she's worried about you…and I think I am now, too."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hestia and Sirius approaching and waved them off. He was starting to realise what was happening here and thought it was best if it was handled without adults getting involved.

"It's alright." Neville patted Luna's back awkwardly. "You don't have to worry about me. I've got Harry and Hermione and Sirius now."

Luna promptly burst into tears.

Neville stared at Harry, eyes wide. "Help?"

"It's not fair," Luna said in between sobs. "It's not fair!"

"Of course it's not," Harry said. "There's so much wrong with this world that it makes Hermione and me sick to our stomachs some nights. So we're going to fix it . I mean, perma-killing Old Mouldy is still at the top of the list, but I think that helps with the fairness, too. It's alright to cry about how awful things are, Luna, but when you're ready, we'd like your help fixing them."

She sniffled and released Neville. "I'd love to, but I don't think I'll be much good at anything. I'm just a girl who likes reading about weird animals."

"And faced down Lockhart," Harry said.

Neville nodded. "And you didn't see her tell off Mr. Lupin. She was amazing."

Luna blushed. 

"Exactly," Hermione said. "Luna, you're much stronger than you think you are and you're still young yet. We're not beating ourselves up because we can't fix the whole world immediately."

Harry raised his eyebrows.

"OK, OK, I suppose we do have some regrets on that front," Hermione allowed, "but we recognize how difficult it will be. We're learning and getting ready, though. And when we graduate Hogwarts…it's showtime."

"You really think I'll be able to help?" Luna asked. 

"I really do," Harry said. "But even if you can't, we'll still like you because you're our Luna and we wouldn't trade you for anything."

Luna burst into tears again and threw her arms around Harry. "I have the best friends in the world."

Harry awkwardly patted her on the back and mouthed " Help? " at Hermione. 

She sighed. "Boys." Then she walked over and pulled Harry into a hug, squishing Luna between them.

"Hugs are the best." Luna slipped an arm out beneath Hermione's and gestured to Neville. "Come on, we need you, too!"

The other boy shrugged, walked over, and tentatively allowed Hermione and Harry to hug him. Luna, in the centre, managed to work an arm out and hug him around the waist.

"See?" Luna asked. "Hugs are wonderful."

"Um…" Neville said. 

Hermione glared at him. "Stop being so English and hug us properly!"

"But…I am English!"

"That's no excuse," Hermione said.

"Oh, alright…" Neville tentatively squeezed tighter. 

"Now stay put and enjoy it for a moment." Hermione paused. "Luna, are you purring ?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Luna said. 

"Well…alright, then," Hermione said. 

They stayed silent for a moment (but for the purring, which Harry found odd, but comforting), then Neville spoke up again. "This is actually kind of nice."

"I think it's very nice," Luna said. "We'll do this regularly to keep your wrackspurts away."

"My…what?"

" Just go with it ," Harry mouthed over Luna's head. 

"Oh, alright," Neville said. Harry was impressed that he'd somehow managed to answer both Luna and him simultaneously.

Between school and trips to see Neville, it took a few weeks for Harry and Hermione to make some time to return to Diagon Alley with Sirius to see Remus. They had a great time chatting with them, though, and resolved to do it a few more times before Hogwarts started. They had just as much fun the second time, which was during the intra-term break at the end of May. After Hogwarts let out in mid-June, Harry and Hermione suggested Sirius hire Tonks to look after them as needed and take Hestia on a holiday to a Wizarding resort in Jamaica, since Sirius hadn't gone on holiday since he'd escaped Azkaban and Hestia had never been able to afford such a trip. Tonks had some time before her Auror training course started and was happy to take the job, which is how they all found themselves walking into Oldknowe Books on a slow Saturday afternoon in late June. 

"Hi, Uncle Moony!" Harry said as they walked in.

"Hi, Harry," Remus replied. He was sitting behind the counter and put down the book he'd been reading. "I'm glad you and Hermione could come by today. I don't think I know your friend, though."

"I think I remember you," Tonks said. She morphed her hair from a shock of pink curls into a perfect match for Remus's light brown hair. "Does that trick ring a bell?"

"Nymph…no, I seem to recall you hating that name," Remus said. 

"Just call me Tonks," she said. 

"Certainly," Remus said. "My goodness, I haven't seen you since—"

The bookshop door burst open. " Nymphadora Tonks! " shouted a large redheaded woman as she bustled in. A small redheaded girl with freckles trailed in after her, looking confused. "I don't know what you've done to my Charlie, but—"

"Are you sure you want to have this conversation in public?" Tonks asked acidly. "I know what I did and what you did, and I know which of those was legal."

"Legal?" Mrs. Weasley snorted. "A deviant like you would have to be portioning a good boy like Charlie to get him to want to marry you. I know you were at the Lovegoods, too, since my Percy said he saw Harry Potter there and that's just the silliest…"

She trailed off when Harry started waving. "Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "I'm really sorry I startled Percy like that."

"You…you're…" Mrs. Weasley stared at him. 

The little girl squeaked and hid behind her mother.

"Harry Potter, at your service," Harry said, bowing a little. "And this is my best friend, Hermione Granger. I think you know our good friend Luna Lovegood."

"You…do know the Lovegoods?" Mrs. Weasley asked. 

"Of course we do," Harry said. "We were visiting a few weeks ago when Charlie and Percy came over to help Luna with her article. They were very nice, and I'm sorry for scaring Percy."

Hermione nodded. "We were also there when Charlie's potion wore off , Mrs.Weasley," she said, her voice taut with anger. "He was so relieved to be able to feel love for Tonks again that he wept. It was the single most horrifying thing I have seen so far in my life and I still occasionally have nightmares about it. Charlie didn't want to press charges, but I wish he had. You are a monster ."

" How dare you talk to me like that? " Molly roared as she went for her wand. Several things happened simultaneously after that:

Tonks paled and went for her own wand.

Harry stepped in front of Hermione, who reached into the pocket of her jeans for her own wand.

A shimmering, translucent silver shield sprung up in front of them, because Remus had been faster on the draw than any of them.

"If you raise your wand at the son of James Potter or his friends," he said, "I will execute you and, if necessary, go whistling to Azkaban afterward."

"Bold words from a shop…" Mrs. Weasley trailed off. "R…Remus?"

"It's been a long time, Molly." Remus allowed his shield to dissipate, but he held his wand ready to cast another in an instant. "I know you're good, but you've never once beaten me in a duel, so unless you're going to use your daughter as a human shield, I urge you to either put your wand away or ask her to move."

Mrs. Weasley gulped and put her wand away. "I'll have you sacked for threatening my daughter."

Tonks' hair turned jet black. "He was trying to protect her, you plonker! You're the one who almost started a duel with kids around!"

"Hey, Hermione?" Harry asked loudly enough to quiet everyone else. 

"Yes?" she asked, playing along.

"I'm super-famous in the Wizarding World, aren't I?"

"That's my understanding," she replied. 

"So I'll bet if I sent a letter to the owner of the bookstore telling them how much I liked it here and how much great help I got from Mr. Lupin, they'd probably appreciate it."

"I'd go so far as to say they'd take out a newspaper ad and quote you in it," Hermione said.

Harry had to stifle a smile at how well she was playing along. "I think I'll do just that, then."

"That's a lovely idea," Hermione said. "Don't you think so, Mrs. Weasley?"

"You…you…" Mrs. Weasley sputtered. 

"Me." Harry paused after saying that because, really, where was he supposed to go from there? Movie heroes always had much better quips. "My name is Harry James Potter, Mrs. Weasley, and if you mess with my family or friends, you mess with me."

"Mum?" a small voice asked from behind Molly. "You always told me Harry Potter was a hero and read me all of those books about him. Why are you threatening him?"

"He's not who I thought he was," Mrs. Weasley said tightly.

Tonks unexpectedly burst out laughing. "The crazy thing is that you're both right. Harry isn't who you think he is, but he and Hermione are both real heroes. Not the kind in books, but the kind you walk past on the street and whose existence you take for granted until you need them. I'm lucky to be their friend, Ginny, and I hope you'll try to be their friend at Hogwarts, too."

"Me?" Ginny stepped partially out from behind her mother.

Mrs. Weasley put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I don't think that's a good idea, dear."

Tonks grinned and her hair turned spiky and pink. "That's the fun thing about Hogwarts, kid. When you get there, you can make your own choices about your friends."

Mrs. Weasley glared at her. "My Percy will keep me appraised of that sort of thing."

"You might think that," Tonk said, "but he'll probably be too busy snogging his girlfriend to pay much attention to what Ginny gets up to."

"Girlfriend?" Mrs.Weasley shrieked. "What girlfriend? He's too young to be snogging."

Tonks shrugged. "I don't really know her. Some younger Ravenclaw witch. Well-developed for her age and shows it off. I have to hand it to Percy; the kid's got good taste."

"Well, I never!" Mrs. Weasley took Ginny by the shoulder. "I've had enough of this. Ginny, we're leaving."

Harry gave the girl a cheery wave as she left, to which she responded with a timid one of her own.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Harry turned and high-fived Hermione as soon as she finished putting her wand away. "You were great!"

"You, too! That was a great use of Case 3, not to mention your own fame." she said, grinning. Harry thought he caught Remus raising an eyebrow as the older wizard realised Hermione had drawn a weapon. 

"I don't like being famous, but if I can use it to ruin the day of someone like that, I might as well," Harry said. "I feel kind of bad that we ratted out Percy's relationship to his mother, but that berk probably deserves it after what he did to Charlie."

"Oh, he does," Tonks said, "but I have no idea if he's actually dating anyone."

"You made that up?" Hermione asked.

"Yep." Tonks popped the 'p' extra loudly.

Harry high-fived her. 

"That," Remus said, "was a clever prank, but would you mind explaining why a grown woman burst in here and threatened you? I can't approve of putting Harry and Hermione in danger if you knew she was after you."

Tonks' hair flattened back out into brown. "I'm sorry. I didn't know she was in the area or that she'd react violently."

"It's our fault, too," Harry said. 

" Harry! " Tonks hissed. "I'm supposed to be keeping an eye on you !" 

"You are," Harry said. "And we're keeping an eye on you. Fair's fair."

Tonks sighed. 

"Oh, lad." Remus laughed, but his eyes looked a little watery. "You reminded me so much of your father just now. Listen, my only priority here is your safety. I'm not going to try to get you in trouble with Sirius or anyone. Please tell me what happened so I can figure out what I do and don't need to warn Sirius about. Normally, if someone had burst in the door like that and reached for their wand, I would have been tempted to curse first and ask questions later, but that was Molly P–Weasley, for Merlin's sake! Why is Molly Weasley threatening children?"

"She was feeding her son Charlie potions to make him hate me," Tonks said. "When they wore off, he proposed."

"I see," Remus said. "And Harry and Hermione just happened to be there for this?"

"Yes," Tonks said. "Their presence was entirely coincidental."

"I did not become a prefect and a Marauder simultaneously by being slow-witted," Remus said. "Tonks, if you'd known Molly was feeding Charlie potions, you'd have done something sooner, so I'm guessing someone else figured it out…probably Harry; very clever, lad."

"It was all Hermione," Harry said immediately, then noticed her glaring at him. "Oops."

Remus laughed. "I also guessed she would deny it if asked directly, but I knew if you were anything at all like James, there was no way you would take credit for Hermione's cleverness. In fact, it's probably been driving you crazy that you can't brag about it more."

"She was brilliant," Harry said. "She came up with the whole plan and ensured nobody saw anything that could prove a metamorph was present."

"Clever indeed," Remus said. "Wizarding courts have long since learnt to ignore the 'a metamorph did it' claims because they're easy to make and impossible to prove. Why didn't you come to Sirius or me, though?"

"We…had an opportunity that we couldn't pass up," Harry said. "Besides, there's so much wrong with the Wizarding World. I mean, if we'd gone to the Aurors, would anyone have done anything?"

"Probably not," Remus sighed. "I'd like to say I would have, but I haven't exactly given you reason to believe that, have I?"

Harry shrugged.

"I promise you I will, though," Remus said. "I hope you never have to do something like that again because you trust Sirius and me enough to let us take the risks for you. I know I haven't earned your trust, Harry, but I want to. Sirius and I want you to be safe more than anything."

"You'll actually help, not just tell us to call the Aurors or teachers and let them decide if and when to do anything?" Harry asked.

"If I genuinely think that will get something done faster and safer for you, then yes, I will," Remus said. "Otherwise, no, I'll help you get it done if it needs to be done."

"I guess that makes sense," Harry said. "We probably will need help sometimes, especially till we're older and know more dangerous spells."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Even when you're older, you shouldn't have to use those spells. Most witches and wizards go their whole lives without fighting in a life-or-death situation, and I don't ever want you to have to be in one."

"Harry's just being overdramatic." Hermione glared at the boy. "We're not planning to get in any life-threatening situations at all, are we?"

"Well, there is Old Mouldy still out there," Harry said.

"Oh, right," Hermione said. "That's a good point."

"Don't worry about him," Remus said. "None of us are going to let him get anywhere near you. I'm sure Sirius and Hestia are making great progress at figuring out why he isn't dead and how to kill him permanently."

"Definitely," Harry said. "We're just…being cautious."

"Right," Hermione said. "Cautious."

A few minutes later, when Remus was alone again, three realisations hit him. First, he might really have a second chance with Harry now, but the second chance was always harder than the first. 

Second, Harry and Hermione were lying about being overdramatic or cautious. For some reason, two children not yet in Hogwarts were convinced they were going to face dangerous situations and, horrifyingly, seemed to have made their peace with it. Remus had a bad feeling it was more than just Voldemort's continued existence troubling them, mostly because Harry seemed to have used that as an excuse for his comment and caught Hermione flat-footed with it. Something else was going on, and the only thing Remus could think of was that Harry had somehow gotten the impression there was a Prophecy out there about him. If that was true, he needed to find out. Remus could understand if Sirius knew and hadn't shared it with him, but if Harry was playing things this close to the vest then Sirius might not know yet. But how to get into the Hall of Prophecy?

Third, Remus decided he desperately needed to get laid if he thought a girl he'd played games with as a small child looked attractive. Admittedly, she was technically of age now, but she was still a child .

Chapter Text

Summer passed with no major progress on the horcrux front, not that Harry could help with that search. They'd destroyed three now, but they had no idea where others might be or even where the locket had been originally. Kreacher would almost certainly not come at Sirius's call anymore, and nobody would risk telling him anything that could get back to the Malfoys. Sirius suspected that, if Bellatrix had been given one, Lucius had probably been given another, but there was no proof of that or way to get a warrant to search his home without giving up the larger game. 

Harry's worries that summer were more immediate: deportment lessons. When Sirius and Augusta came up with a plan to have a large party for Neville's birthday at Longbottom Manor and then a smaller, friends-only celebration for Harry's birthday at Sirius's house, Hestia suggested they learn Wizarding etiquette and deportment. Andromeda agreed to help with a gleam in her eyes that made Harry nervous, and they'd spent almost every Saturday in June and July learning etiquette, dancing, and other such things. Hermione seemed to find it reasonably interesting, but Harry found it frightfully dull. 

By the third lesson, Andromeda was fed up with him. "Don't you want to learn to charm all of the other little witches you'll meet at the party?" she asked him.

"Not really," Harry said. "The only witch I want to charm is Hermione, and since you're teaching her the same stuff, the best I can do with this is stay even with where I was. It's like that Red Queens Racing thing Hermione told me about."

Hermione blinked. "You remembered the 'Red Queen's Race'?"

"I thought it was a neat idea," Harry said. "I got this mental image of a lion chasing after a gazelle, but they're both wearing big poofy red dresses while running on treadmills with scenery flashing by them on big scrolls like in cartoons. I thought it was pretty funny."

"That's a surprisingly good way to put evolutionary biology into cartoon terms," Hermione said. "I would never have thought of that."

"You two…" Andromeda sighed. 

"Think about all of those pirates in movies," Hermione said. "Aren't they all debonair and swashbuckling?"

"I suppose…" Harry said. 

"We've already established that you can be a good pirate when you put your mind to it," Hermione said. "Look at how your letter to Oldknowe Books made the owner ignore Molly Weasley! But people will never respect you as a great pirate unless you're a true swashbuckler: charming, debonair, and deadly."

"Oh." Harry had to think about that for a minute.

"Wait," Andromeda said, "I'm not teaching him anything about harming anyone."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said with a casual wave of her hand. "We'll handle that later."

"I'd much rather you did no such thing."

Harry shrugged. "I'd much rather, too, but I don't expect Old Mouldy's followers will give us a break."

"You could always keep a low profile like Ted and I have done," Andromeda said. "That's kept us out of trouble so far."

"The Boy-Who-Lived can keep a low profile?" Harry asked, a touch incredulously if he was being honest with himself. 

Andromeda sighed. "Never mind."

"My father's mother had relatives who tried to keep a low profile," Hermione said tightly. "They all disappeared into Treblinka. You can't appease bigots by hiding from them." She turned to Harry. "Well, what do you think? Do you want to be a common brigand, or do you want to be a pirate ?"

Harry thought for a moment. Being a pirate was all well and good, but this sounded like a lot of work. Was it really worth it?

" This was not worth it ," Harry thought as he tried to gently extract himself from the grasp of one of the Indian girls present (he was doing his best with the names, but he thought the presence of twins was deeply unfair). Neville's birthday party had thus far been a disaster, and he blamed it all on Andromeda's training. 

She'd done much too good a job.

Everything had started out nicely, with everyone being introduced and having some deliciously moist cake, but hanging out together afterward hadn't gone well at all. Harry hadn't considered what would happen if a bunch of children met a child celebrity who was also doing his best to be charming. Everyone was pretty much ignoring poor Neville, and Hermione, too, once the novelty of meeting a muggleborn witch at an event like this had worn off. This wasn't what he wanted!

Being surrounded by simpering witches and obsequious wizards wasn't much fun, either. He had the feeling he could have talked about using the loo that morning and they'd have treated it like the most fascinating thing they'd ever heard. 

Wait…

Harry, lost in his plan, zoned out right in the middle of a self-congratulatory 'question' from some pompous boy named Smith. 

"And that's why…" Smith trailed off. "Potter, is everything alright?"

"Oh, my apologies, Smith." Harry clapped him on the back and the other boy beamed at Harry's remembrance of his name. "I just remembered that Neville promised to take us on a greenhouse tour. I can't wait! Nev has the best greenhouses ever. Way better than mine." 

Harry was almost positive he didn't own any greenhouses, but that still wasn't technically a lie. 

"What about the greenhouses at your castle?" Sophie Roper asked. 

Harry sighed. "Didn't I tell you all that the books are made up?"

"Yes, but you have to still have a castle," she replied. "I mean, you're…you!"

"I don't…OK, I might have a castle, but I don't live there. I live in an ordinary house—with Sirius—and not a castle." Harry gestured to Neville. "We should get moving. It's Nev's birthday and I don't want to keep him waiting."

Without further ado, he made his way past the other children and over to Neville and Hermione. "Hullo!" he said to them. "Happy Birthday in case I forgot to say it earlier! I'm sorry I delayed you starting your tour of your greenhouses."

Nev blinked. "Um…my tour?"

"Yes, your tour." Hermione held out a hand to him and raised her eyebrows at him. He stared at her for a moment, confused, then got the hint and helped her up just as Andromeda had taught Harry to do and Hermione to expect. "Didn't you just get a new Madagascarian Lemur Lure Tree?"

"I think so…yes, I did, you're right," Neville said. "How did you remember that?"

She smirked. 

"Right, right, silly question." Neville waved to everyone. "Thank you all for coming to my party," he said. "Since we're finally old enough to bear wands, I've been helping out some more with the more dangerous greenhouses. I can show you some much more interesting plants now, but you'll all need to be careful."

Behind him, Harry heard Sophie Roper grumble, "Flobberworms are more interesting than most of his plants."

Harry had no idea why parents who knew their children disliked Neville would force them to go to his birthday party. Nobody ended up happy. "It's worth it," Harry said loudly. "That venomous tentacula was fascinating."

"There's a venomous tentacula in there?" one of the twins asked. Ernie MacMillan, who was toward the back of the group, started edging further away.

"Oh, yes," Neville said. "She's a sweetie as long as you don't feed her any dragon dung."

"What…um…happens if you feed it dragon dung?" the twin asked. Harry was starting to realise she was as assertive as her more outgoing sister, but more careful in how she deployed that assertiveness. 

"Brute force vs. careful thrusts, like the difference between a falchion and a rapier," Harry thought. " Swords are cool. I need—oh, right, Nev's talking."

"So you really can't blame her for nearly killing my uncle," he was saying. "That stuff's poisonous to her. Of course, he still has a twitch in that hand—"

Hermione latched onto Neville's arm. "Moving along," she said briskly. "Nobody's got any dragon dung fertiliser on them, so I think we're safe."

"Oh, of course," the clever twin said weakly. "Totally safe."

"Relax," her sister told her. " Harry Potter's with us. We're fine. Oooh, look at those flowers! They're like little jewels in the sun."

Harry sighed and added "credulous" and "easily distracted" to his mental profile of the other twin.

Neville took a bit to warm up to the job of docent, but Harry knew he had it in him and after a few minutes the other boy began to get the hang of it. It helped that the more dangerous plants did genuinely look cooler for the most part, enough so that even Sophie Roper and that prat Smith were paying attention. The Slithering Snakeweed was resplendent in iridescent yellows, greens, and blues as it tried to slip tendrils out of its enclosure and reach out to the children, while the Uruguayan Lorelei Flower lured a rat (helpfully provided by Spriggy the house elf) to its doom right in front of them. Its musky scent and gentle song lulled the rat into walking right into the water in front of it, at which point tendrils caught it, pulled it under, and tore it apart under the surface. 

Everyone got very quiet after seeing that, even Smith. Poor Hannah Abbott looked a little green. 

The Poisonous Frog Pitcher Plant was almost a letdown after that, since it had only eaten two days before and was still digesting the previous frog. Neville described how the poisons it ingested from the frogs it ate contributed to its bright colouring and defence against predators.

As Neville was taking them to see the caged-in section for the Kerguelen Night Hunting Cabbage, an absolutely vicious plant that had denuded its entire home island of all other plant life, Hermione asked, "Will we see the Lemur Lure soon? I'm really quite curious about it after hearing your description last month."

"Oh, right," Neville said. "That's a clever little tree. I think we actually passed it just a moment ago. It looks like an ordinary tree, but with shiny gold bits hidden in the leaves to attract the attention of lemurs."

"Wait," the clever twin said, "shiny gold bits?" She began to turn around. "Parvati?"

"Oh," Harry thought, "so that's the name of the easily distracted girl who likes shiny things. " 

He was already moving by the time Padma had finished turning around.

Parvati was at the back of the group. "What?" she asked as she reached into an ordinary-looking tree.

Harry winced as he sent Susan Bones staggering into Ernie MacMillan, but he didn't stop moving. He hit Parvati just as the tree branches whipped out to encase her in a thorny cocoon. 

The impact sent the two of them tumbling to the ground several feet away, but the tree just reoriented itself and kept attacking. Harry managed to roll on top of Parvati just as the thorns came down.

The pain came first, dozens of fiery pricks along his back, rear, and legs. Beyond the pain came stiffness, his muscles beginning to lock into their current position. He was dimly aware of screams, mostly Hermione's, but Neville's voice roared out over all of them. 

"Stand aside and stay calm!" he said. "Hermione, don't cast that yet."

"I will bloody well—"

"No! That will just make the tree try to kill him faster so it doesn't lose its prey. We need to distract it first. Spriggy?"

A pop heralded the arrival of the elf, barely audible over the whimpering girl in his arms and the pain roaring through his head.

"Get all of the raw meat in the house and throw it right there."

Another pop ; the elf was gone. 

"As soon as that meat appears there, the tree will turn most of its tendrils to that," Neville said. "That's when we hit the ones on Harry with the Cutting Charms. Harry, once you hear us casting, make a break for it."

"Can't. Move." Harry spat out, trying to keep the pain out of his voice.

"I can," Parvati said, the fear ebbing away from her voice. "Just give me the word and I'll get him out of here."

Harry's inner monologue appended "spine of steel " to his list of descriptors for the girl.

Harry heard another pop and suddenly Neville, Hermione, Padma, Susan, and Ernie were screaming "Diffindo" repeatedly at the top of their lungs. Vines fell away around him and he thought a few thorns wrenched out in the process. It might have been his imagination, but more vines seemed to fall whenever Hermione cast than the rest of them combined.

Parvati grunted and pushed from below him, rolling Harry onto his back and inadvertently pushing some thorns deeper. She ended up on top briefly, tears and fierce determination in her eyes, before rolling him again to push them another few feet from the tree. More vines fell away as they moved, before a surprising weightlessness enveloped them and they floated away.

"Spriggy has them now, Young Master," the elf said. 

"Nice work!" Neville said, ceasing his Cutting Charms. 

Hermione and Padma ran up to them while Spriggy was gently laying them back on the ground. Padma pulled her sister into a tight hug, but Hermione was laser-focused on pulling the remaining thorns out of Harry's body. He'd normally have been embarrassed at some of the places she had to grab him, but the fact that his heart seemed to be slowing down a bit struck him as a more pressing problem.

"He barely has a pulse!" she screamed as she worked. "Neville, you'd better have a bloody antidote or I swear to God I will—"

"Right here!" Neville said. "Roll him onto his back."

Hermione flipped Harry over, making him glad she'd gotten most of the thorns out. He was really bloody sick of those things. Neville pulled his mouth open a bit and poured in a vial of watery liquid that tasted like a weird combination of orange, sweat, diesel fuel, and fresh-cut grass.

"There we go," Neville said. "Here's some for you, Patil."

"No, thank you," Parvati said. "I want to wait till I'm sure Potter's had enough."

"Parvati, you're twitching!" Padma said. "Take the potion!"

"I would rather die than take a drop of potion Potter might need," Parvati said. 

From what Harry could see of the look in Hermione's eyes, he had a feeling Parvati's death might still be on the table regardless.

Another pop heralded the return of Spriggy, this time with Madam Longbottom. "Neville Francis Longbottom! What happened here?"

"Accident with the Lemur Lure." Neville's finger didn't move from the pulse point on Harry's neck as he spoke. "We got them out with Spriggy's help and I administered the antidote to Harry. Could you get some more? I believe I've enough here, but it would make Miss Patil feel better if she were sure Harry had enough before she took any."

"Spriggy, get another vial of the Lemur Lure antidote," Madam Longbottom said. "Why didn't you summon me immediately?" 

"Because I didn't have time," Neville said, still not looking at her. "I wanted to get the antidote into him as fast as possible, and with all four of us casting Cutting Charms, I thought we had it covered. Hermione's are incredible."

"You mean you risked Harry Potter's life on the casting skill of a muggleborn?" Madam Longbottom asked. 

"She was cutting two vines at a time," Padma said. "I had to aim for vines one of the others weakened to have a chance of bringing them down."

"Same here," MacMillan said. "I don't know who's been teaching her, but I'm jealous."

"Sirius…I mean, Lord Black," Hermione said. "Harry and I work hard with him almost every weekend."

"I know my friends," Neville said, "I know my plants, and I know my antidotes. Speaking of which, Spriggy is right behind you, Ms. Patil."

"Oh, thank you." Parvati turned around, but Padma reached out and stopped her hand. 

"You're still twitching, Parv," she said. "Let me."

Parvati nodded and allowed her sister to take the vial from Spriggy and pour it into her mouth. "Ugh," she said. "I hope that stuff kicks in soon. That was disgusting."

"I think it's starting to work for me," Harry said. "I can talk again and my heart feels normal."

"Oh, Harry !" Hermione lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I was so worried for you."

"Ahem." Padma said pointedly. 

"Oh, hush." Parvati gently slapped her sister on the arm. "That was one hundred percent my fault and you know it. I don't blame her for being less interested in my well-being."

"I think," Madam Longbottom said, "it would be best if everyone who's unhurt went home now. Neville and Spriggy will help see you safely out of this greenhouse."

"I feel a lot better," Parvati said. "Neville, is it safe for me to go home?"

"Absolutely," he said. "The antidote is completely effective, since the poison the plant uses is barely magical at all."

"Great!" Parvati said. "By the way, do I owe someone a Life Debt now? I feel like I do, but I'm not sure who."

Madam Longbottom raised her thick, grey eyebrows. "It's not to Mr. Potter?"

"It might be," Parvati said, "but Mr. Longbottom was the one who organised my rescue and Miss Granger was the one who did the most to cut us free."

"He…did?" Madam Longbottom said. 

"Oh, yeah," Harry said. "Neville was stone-cold calm and awesome the whole time."

Hermione and Padma nodded, as did most of the other children.

"Oh…well, good work, Neville," Madam Longbottom said.

"Harry," Neville said, "can you stand, or should we levitate you back into the house?"

"I can—"

"Levitate him," Hermione said immediately. "Harry James Potter, you nearly died just now and I will not have you exerting yourself, do you hear me?"

Harry shrugged. "Levitation it is, then." If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't positive his legs would hold his weight right now, but he hated to admit that in front of all of the other kids. It was also kind of nice to have Hermione fussing over him. The Dursleys always used to expect him to get back to work immediately regardless of how hurt he was.

After Harry and Hermione finished explaining the whole situation for the third time, this time to her parents after Sirius and Hestia had brought them home, Isaac and Miranda just stared at them for a moment. 

"Well," Isaac finally said, "that sure turned into a shitshow."

"Isaac!" Miranda shouted. "Language!"

Hestia elbowed Sirius. "You laughing is not helping matters."

Isaac shrugged. "Language, indeed. Do you have a better word for it?"

"Yes!" Miranda said. "Disaster! Catastrophe! A cock-up of massive fu—oh, fine, you're right, it was a shitshow. But Hestia is right that Sirius laughing is not helping matters. We shouldn't be encouraging bad habits in the children."

Hermione nodded. "Harry has enough of those already."

"Oi!" Harry said. "What did I do?"

"Nearly get yourself killed!" she shot back. 

"What was I supposed to do?" Harry asked. "I realised she was in trouble and thought I could get to her in time."

"If you'd stayed back with me," Hermione said, "we could have cut her free even faster. No offence to the other children, but I would have rather had you helping me than the rest of them combined."

"I had no idea the tree had that kind of range," Harry said. "I knocked her pretty far away."

Sirius cleared his throat. "I have a hunch I understand what happened here. Harry, you were basically raised as a muggle, so you instinctively reach for muggle solutions to a problem. Hermione has never been as…physical as you are, for lack of a better word, so I think she's having an easier time adjusting to the Wizarding World. There's nothing wrong with instincts, but part of growing up is learning to control them."

"I see," Harry said. "So I need to learn when to tackle a problem physically and when to curse it magically."

"Exactly," Sirius replied. 

"Not every problem requires violence," Miranda added. "Remember to think of non-violent solutions, too."

Harry grinned. "But if I blow up a problem, I won't have to deal with it ever again."

"True," Hermione said, "but then other people get upset with you, you have to blow them up, even more people get upset with you, and it's a vicious circle till you end up missing supper."

"Good point," Harry replied. "If it leads to me missing supper, then it's probably a bad plan."

Miranda shook her head. "I'm not sure whether to be more worried about Harry's thought processes there or the fact that Hermione understood them so well."

Hermione shrugged. "Weren't you the one who once told me the way to a man's heart was through his stomach?"

"I was joking!" Miranda blushed so deeply it was actually visible on her black skin.

"No, she wasn't," Isaac muttered. 

Harry grinned. "I find Mrs. Granger's ideas intriguing and wish to subscribe to her newsletter."

Miranda facepalmed. "Focus, please. We're discussing Harry's near-death experience, not my poor taste in jokes."

"I have an idea," Hermione said. "I was reading about an American pilot, a Colonel Boyd, at the library a few months ago. He had this concept called the OODA Loop: Observe, Orient, Decide, and Act, in that order. I think Harry and I need to drill those parts so we can make better decisions in the heat of the moment."

"That sounds like a promising idea," Isaac said. "I've read a bit about that Boyd fellow, too, and I think there's something to his approach as a training methodology."

Sirius nodded. "Let me research Auror training and see if there are any drills I can teach Harry to help him get a read on a situation before bursting into action. Harry's goal was laudable today; we just need to refine his methods." He paused. "And learning more powerful explosive spells is not the solution. I am not teaching the Bombardment Curse to a ten-year-old."

"I understand," Harry said. "Maybe after my Third Year, though?"

"Fourth Year," Sirius said. "That's an awfully dangerous spell."

"Fourth Year?" Isaac asked. "He'll be all of fourteen!"

Sirius shrugged. "It's on the Fifth Year curriculum, regardless."

"You teach fifteen-year-olds to cast the equivalent of magic grenades?!" 

"It's not so bad," Hestia said. "Most of them can't summon the intent to cast the spell for large-scale destructive effect, so it's more like a small muggle firework."

"Ah." Isaac nodded sagely. "So you're teaching them a spell that only the violent psychopaths among the student body can use effectively. That makes much more sense."

Hestia blinked. "I…never thought about it like that."

"It doesn't seem like anyone has," Miranda said. "Why is that spell taught at all?"

Sirius shrugged. "There are only three illegal spells. The Torture Curse, the Mind Control Curse, and the Murder Curse that was used on Harry as a child. Other lethal curses like the Blood-Boiling Curse or the Entrail-Expelling Curse are perfectly legal to use in self-defence, though. I think the Murder Curse is illegal mostly because the void it creates by severing the soul from the body draws the attention of the Unnamed Things in the Void Between Universes."

Isaac and Miranda stared at Sirius, then at each other, then back at Sirius.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Um…we hadn't gotten around to telling them about the Nameless Things yet."

"That," Miranda said a touch shrilly, "is a rather large thing to forget!"

"In their defence," Sirius said, "it is best not to think about them."

Isaac shook his head. "Ignorance is no defence."

"Father?" Hermione raised her hand. "He meant that literally. It's really best not to think about the Things Without a Name. That's why we keep referring to them by different phrases, too. Considering them too carefully could give them form in our reality."

Isaac's jaw dropped.

"Sirius?" Miranda asked. "You mentioned something about different universes. Is it too late to move to a different one?"

"I've researched that a little," Hermione said.

"You have ?" Hestia and Miranda asked simultaneously, though for slightly different reasons.

"Yes," Hermione said. "I wouldn't mind living in a reality impervious to the Never Yclept Things, myself."

"Yclept?" Isaac raised his eyebrows. "That's a good one."

Hermione smiled at Harry and they high-fived. "That was all me," Harry said. "After we learnt of the Nominally Challenged Things, I spent some quality time with a thesaurus and made Hermione a whole list of phrases she could switch between to help keep her safe while she read."

She nodded. "It was really thoughtful of him."

"I used to get Miranda flowers," Isaac said. "Couldn't you just get her flowers?"

"How would those help her research?" Harry asked. 

Isaac sighed. 

"Anyway," Hermione continued, "I checked and, from what I've read so far, most Wizarding authors think travel between universes is impossible for living things, basically due to the Anthropic principle. It turns out most other universes they've tested are hostile to human life at the level of basic physical laws."

Now it was Hestia's turn to raise her hand. "I'm sorry, but I'm woefully ignorant of muggle science," she said. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how your body is made up of lots of little bits?" Hermione asked. "Those little bits are made up of even smaller bits, and in other universes, those smaller bits explode or disintegrate rather than holding together to make bigger bits. So if you went there, your body would instantly convert into what I can only describe as a cloud of gas dissipating on an endless wind."

"That's somehow not the most horrifying thing we've discussed this evening," Hestia said, "but it feels like it is."

"The multiverse is shockingly hostile to human life," Hermione said. "Harry snaps me out of it whenever I start thinking about that too hard. It never ends well." 

Harry nodded. "I try not to worry about it. We're here now, so what does it matter that we're not elsewhere? I don't want to be elsewhere, anyway."

Hermione smiled fondly at him. "I don't want to be anywhere else, either."

"I feel," Miranda said, "like I just got schooled in philosophy by a ten-year-old."

"We all did," Hestia said.

"Does that mean we can have supper now?" Harry asked. 

Isaac and Miranda stared at each other again before breaking down into helpless laughter. 

The next day, they had Harry's birthday party at Hermione's house, this time with just Neville and Luna as guests. Neville was deeply apologetic about the incident with the tree, and when Luna discovered what happened she gave both of them such a thorough guilt trip that Hermione briefly wondered if Luna was related to her paternal grandmother.

Luna also astutely pointed out that the story was bound to come out in the press soon because of Harry's fame, so he might as well get ahead of it. Since none of them wanted to disabuse Xenophilus of his notion that Harry was Stubby Boardman's son, she instead suggested her father interview some of the participants in the incident.

Xenophilus loved the idea and immediately interviewed Neville and Hermione about the incident, citing both of them as "unnamed sources involved in the events." The next morning, the Daily Prophet ran an article with some clearly out-of-context quotations from Sophie Roper and Zacharias Smith, the latter of whom made it sound like he personally saved the Boy-Who-Lived from Neville's negligent handling of his bloodthirsty plants. Below the fold was a short article about an attempted theft at Gringotts that went largely unnoticed in all of the excitement. 

The Quibbler , on the other hand, ran a detailed and factual blow-by-blow account of events, including a prepared statement from Harry (delivered via Neville) stating he had full confidence in Neville's management of his plants and that he'd personally buy him another Lemur Lure if anyone forced him to burn his existing one.

Malicious gossip was always a reliable sale for the Prophet , but in this case it couldn't hold a candle to a real-life action thriller starring the Boy-Who-Lived and Xenophilus sold even more papers than he had for the issue containing the conclusion of his search for the Tomb of Genghis Khan. 

The Prophet followed up with another couple of even more salacious articles making allegations about Parvati and Neville, but Hermione came up with the idea of applying direct negative reinforcement by having Harry send a new story to the Quibbler each time that happened. (The first time, it was a statement in his own words about the pain from the tree, and the second was praise for Parvati's bravery.) The Prophet 's editor eventually got the message and left the story alone.

The whole incident caused a renewed flood of fan mail for Harry, which Sirius paid the goblins to monitor for nasty potions, Charms, and threats. Two letters with Compulsion Charms on them from grown witches were sent to the Aurors for evaluation and the rest received a polite form response duplicated from Harry's own handwriting. This, of course, meant it was somewhat incomprehensible, but that letter still got Spello-taped to the wall of many a young witch or wizard. 

In Devon, though, a little girl with long red hair stared at the form letter and sighed. She knew it was silly to ever think Harry Potter would have time to be her friend.

That evening, in a cosy room in the professors' quarters of Hogwarts, a pale, nervous man folded up the day's Daily Prophet and cringed as his Possessor raged. 

"Potter's power and influence grow daily while I am trapped in this wretched existence!" the Dark Lord said. "I must learn the source of his strength, or at the very least my own weakness. We shall need assistance."

"B…but, Dark Lord, I thought you did not wish to summon your servants until you had regained your strength," the man said. 

"I do not, but I must risk it," the Dark Lord replied. "Fortunately, not all of my servants outside of Azakaban would disdain my present condition."

After sundown that night, deep in the North York Moors, the four dozen muggles of the small farming hamlet of Marsett slept peacefully as a shadow glided between the handful of old stone houses. It came to a stop at a little stone house on the outskirts of town with an overgrown lawn and moss covering the roof. The good citizens of the town would have been horrified if they had seen the condition of the house, but magic spared them the sight.

Inside, two blonde siblings in filthy, threadbare robes laughed wheezily as they played another game of Gobstones, at least till a knock at the door startled them so much that they dropped their pieces. 

"Get the door, brother," the woman said as she drew her wand. "Company so late should be welcomed for supper."

"Indeed," the man said. "It would be lovely to have them for supper."

He drew his own wand and shuffled to the door. "It's late for travellers to be abroad," he said loudly, breathing heavily as he spoke. "Have you come to feed us?"

"I…I…I come at the behest of a…a…a…a mutual f…friend," a quavering voice said from the other side of the door.

"A mutual friend?" With a wave of his wand, the man flung open the door to find a pale man no older than thirty. He wore a dubious expression and a turban. "I doubt that."

"You may doubt my tool," the man's voice took on a deeper, more resonant tone and spoke with no hesitation, "but to doubt me is death." As he spoke, he touched his wand to the inside of his left wrist.

The pain of being boiled alive shot through the blonde siblings and they dropped to their knees, screaming and clawing at their hair. A few excruciating seconds later, the pain ebbed away. 

"My…my Lord," the woman said, prostrating herself before their visitor. 

Her brother did likewise. "We…we feared the worst, so we hid. Please forgive us, Lord. Had we known where you were, we would have followed you anywhere."

"Th…the Dark Lord has a t…t…task for you," the pale man said. "Succeed and b…be f…forgiven."

"Name it and it will be done," the woman said. 

"You m…m…must retrieve a P…Prophecy," the pale man said.

Chapter Text

["If you say in the twenty-fifth chapter that there is a broom hanging on the wall, in the twenty-sixth or twenty-seventh chapter it absolutely must sweep something. If it's not going to clean house, it shouldn't be hanging there."

— Definitely Not Anton Chekhov (Mangled from S. Shchukin, Memoirs . 1911.)]

In a small flat in the less disreputable part of Knockturn Alley, a man with sandy brown hair and scars he didn't deserve put on some cheap brown robes, picked up his Sophronia Scunthorpe's Stupendous Sweeper -Brand magical broom, and reported for his third night shift at the Ministry of Magic as a janitor. He wasn't going to let not having been hired for the job stop him and, as it turned out, neither was the night watchwizard, Eric Munch. The forty-something wizard merely registered Remus's wand on the first night and used a probity probe to ask him what his business was. Remus explained he was there to help the night cleaning staff, the probe accepted it, and Munch waved him on through. 

That had been one of the riskiest parts of the mission, and Remus had been fully prepared to stun Munch before he could read Remus's name, steal the registration of his wand, and flee, but he had a hunch he could pass the Probe. The key was that Remus genuinely intended to clean the building…it's just he also planned to clean, among other places, the Department of Mysteries.

Whether they wanted him to or not. 

Initially, he'd been worried about being caught out by the actual janitorial staff. However, he'd discovered that, as long as he kept to cleaning and stayed away from the break room and other natural spots to shirk, he didn't have to worry about being spotted by them. This meant the rest of the building desperately needed cleaning, so had a great excuse to spend time tidying up the Courtrooms on Level 10…just one level from the Department of Mysteries and only reachable by taking the elevator to the same floor as the DoM. 

He'd originally purchased the broom just to look the part of a professional wizarding janitor, but it was proving truly stupendous in this endeavour. He left it cleaning by itself in the Courtrooms each night while he mapped out the wards and alerts in the Department of Mysteries. He didn't know what he might find there or what kind of traps they'd have in place, so he moved carefully. 

That night started normally, with Watchwizard Munch lazily waving him on through security again. He spent an hour or so cleaning up part of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, both so no one would notice him making a beeline for the DoM and because it really needed the cleaning. He wondered if Barty Crouch had annoyed the janitorial staff somehow…or whether Sirius had paid them off to annoy the man who locked him in Azkaban without a trial. Regardless, Barty deserved it, but his staff probably didn't. 

After Remus put a dent in the dirt in the DIMC, he headed down to the Courtrooms. Once there, he set his broom to automatic cleaning, focusing on the dirtiest spots first, and then headed back up the stairs to the Ninth Floor. He put subtle Tripwire Charms across the elevator door, the stairs down to the Courtrooms, and the door to the DoM. That way, he'd know if anyone came down and where they headed. 

It was normally pretty quiet down there at night, but after about two hours his elevator Tripwire Charm alerted him to motion. He immediately Disillusioned himself and silenced his footsteps, but whoever it was tripped the stair alert next, not the DoM alert. 

Remus hurried out of the DoM, carefully avoiding the wards and alerts he'd mapped out thus far. By the time he made it down to the Courtroom floor, a tall witch in Auror robes was cautiously looking around and asking, "Is someone down here?" Something about her very long, dark brown hair seemed familiar, but he didn't have time to ponder that just then.

Not for nothing had Remus been one of the Marauders in school. He jumped behind a desk, lay down, and cancelled the charms hiding himself. No sooner had he done so than the soothing gold light of a Human-presence-revealing Spell washed over him. 

"Hello, Miss," he shouted, doing his best to sound sleepy as he stood. "I was just letting my broom clean up a few things while I took a bit of a kip."

"Good eve—Remus Lupin?" 

His jaw dropped as he saw the witch's face. Her elegant cheekbones and dark eyes had a few more wrinkles around them than they did when he'd last seen her, but the face he saw in the mirror every morning had aged far less gracefully. "Emmeline Vance?"

"Sweet Circe! I'd always wondered what became of you after…" she trailed off. "Well…after. So you're at the Ministry now?"

He nodded. "I just started a little while ago. Congratulations on becoming an Auror! I know you always wanted to."

"Thank you. It was easy to join up after the War, since they had a lot of…well, openings. What have you been up to?"

"I wandered around the Continent for awhile, then made my way back here when it didn't hurt so much anymore. I've been working at Oldknowe Books for a couple of years now and decided to pick this up as a second job. I'm sorry I was napping."

She chuckled. "Don't worry about it. At least you set your broom up to clean before you went to sleep. Most of the janitors don't even bother doing that. Amelia threatened them sufficiently that the DMLE offices get cleaned regularly, but I think that's the only work they do in the entire building. Sadly, that still probably puts them in the top half of Ministry employees in terms of productivity."

"I noticed." Remus smiled ruefully. "I do my best to hold myself to a higher standard."

"I appreciate that." Emmeline reached down and picked up a manilla folder. "I should probably get back upstairs in case a call comes in. Send me an owl sometime, alright? We should catch up."

"Sure," Remus lied. She wanted to catch up with the man she thought she knew, not the werewolf he really was. 

He spent the rest of that shift cleaning normally, just in case she came looking for him again. The next day he came in, he made sure to be working in the Courtrooms at that time in case she came down, but after a couple of hours he decided it was safe and continued his exploration of the Department of Mysteries. The Room of Doors was continuing to flummox him, especially because he didn't know what kind of traps might be on the doors. He considered marking them with magic as he tested them, but worried that would trigger an alarm. The problem was that the room was featureless otherwise. The doors were featureless; there was precisely one identical candle between each door, and the black marble of the doors, walls, floors, and ceiling was all flawlessly black, with no imperfections he could use as reference points. To top it off, the whole room was spotless, and even his attempts to mark the floor with ink failed as complex automated cleaning magic whisked it away within seconds. He needed a new plan.

Sam Proudfoot idly animated an old memo and directed it to fly onto his partner's head. After a full minute without a reaction from her, he spoke up. "Something on your mind, Emma?"

She jumped a little and her eyes, which until then had been lost in some far distance, refocused on him. "I suppose, Sam. Why do you ask?"

"Mostly because you haven't noticed your new hat." He gestured with his off hand at her head. 

She put her off hand up on her head and brought it back down with a delicate memo butterfly resting on the back of her hand. 

"Awww, she likes you," Proudfoot said. 

Vance rolled her eyes. "Very funny, Sam."

"Really, though, what's going on?" he asked as the butterfly wilted back into an ordinary memo. 

"Nothing, really. I ran into an old friend yesterday who's apparently working as a janitor here now," she said. 

"Seems pretty normal," Proudfoot said. "So why are you giving it a second thought?"

"Well…he was actually working ," she replied. 

Proudfoot raised his eyebrows. "There's no way the other janitors would let him get away with that, especially old Head Janitor Brumby."

"Exactly." She sighed. "As much as I don't want to believe it, I think he's up to something."

"That's as may be," Proudfoot said, "but there's no way we could get a warrant to investigate him. I mean, what would the suspicious behaviour be? Actually doing his job? Just because he's the only one in the building putting in an honest day's work doesn't mean we could get a warrant."

Vance chuckled. "True, true. He's probably just trying to make a good impression and doesn't realise yet that he needs to be making Brumby happy, not the rest of us."

"More's the pity," Proudfoot said. 

"Indeed." Vance settled back into her chair and, once again, her eyes lost focus on her surroundings. Proudfoot thought about making fun of her, but it was nice to see her relaxing and not thinking about work for once.

The pale man stood over the twitching siblings and sighed. "The Dark Lord d…does not like to be k…kept waiting," he told them. "Why have you not yet obtained th…the prophecy?"

"We still don't understand the precautions around it," the brother wheezed.

"And we only have time to map a little each night if we're going to get in and out without getting caught," his sister added.

"Map faster," said another voice from the pale man's head.

Remus took a fortnight off from his janitorial "work" after that, both to see if he could find any relevant books at his day job and to wait out the Full Moon. Unspeakables were generally unwilling to write about their work even after retirement, so he instead used a library Indexing Charm on books by other government officials. It was exhausting, but still easier than reading each one.

It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon in the bookstore when he ran across a five-volume memoir by former Minister of Magic Hortensia Milliphutt entitled "If Only You'd Listened To Me." He vaguely remembered her as a prolific legislator whose ideas had initially been sound, but had eventually degenerated into insanity as she ran out of more reasonable topics on which to legislate. The memoir went into exhaustive detail on all of her proposed legislation and why each law was absolutely vital to Wizarding Britain. 

In between a proposed regulation on the heights of pointed witches' hats ("Between sixteen inches and four-and-twenty inches should be our standard. Too short and the wearer can scarcely be distinguished as a witch, and too tall and the hat starts interfering with the passage of low-flying memos in the Ministry.") and a proposed destruction of the entire Kerguelen Archipelago with Fiendfyre to eradicate the Night-Hunting Cabbage ("That vicious bastard of a Brassica is too dangerous to be allowed to survive even on the far side of the world from our great island. Kerguelen delenda est!"), Remus finally found what he'd been searching for. 

In July of 1848, Minister Milliphutt had proposed a law restricting the spinning of the Room of Doors. She'd been concerned about the potential for employees passing through the room to become forever lost and unable to complete their work for the Ministry. ("It would be a terrible loss if a Deputy Undersecretary became lost in the room for several years and failed to timely complete a critical report on the thickness of cauldron bottoms.") The Unspeakables had apparently pushed back on this proposal by saying that anyone too stupid to magically mark the doors as they tried each one was too stupid to produce any useful work, anyway. Eventually, they won over the Wizengamot (but not the indefatigable Minister Milliphutt) with a compromise that the exit door would always be accessible with a simple request. 

Remus grinned and shut the book, thanking Milliphutt for both her compulsive documentation and for indirectly creating the exit strategy that had gotten him out of the room the first time he stumbled into it. His eyes fell upon his broom in the corner and he found himself compelled to nod to it. It was time to go further into the Department of Mysteries, and a Sunday night was about as quiet a night there as he could possibly hope for. 

The fact a broom was now his closest confidante was probably a bad sign for his mental state, but he ignored that. Harry might be in trouble and he would not fail James' son again. 

Everything seemed normal as Remus made his way into the Ministry, but he still moved as carefully as ever. He cleaned up the Department of Magical Transportation until well past midnight before sneaking down to the Courtrooms and setting his broom to work. He didn't detect any new monitoring charms or wards at the Department of Mysteries, but he still had a weird feeling about the evening and resolved to be extra-cautious. He Disillusioned himself, silenced his footsteps, suppressed his scent, and slipped into the DoM. 

Moving through the featureless black tile of the entrance hallway was disorienting when he couldn't see himself, so Remus closed his eyes and made his way forward using his other senses, enhanced as they were due to his lycanthropy. Every few steps, he stopped and checked for new traps and the like, but there was nothing besides what he'd already discovered. In fact…

He paused and recast his detection charm. There was nothing at all precisely two-thirds of the way down the hall where his notes said there was an Intent Ward to catch would-be thieves. It seemed unlikely that the Unspeakables would reduce their already unimpressive security, but he had no idea who else could have done it. Remus resolved to be extra-cautious and continued. 

The Room of Doors took him some trial and error to work through and it was probably after one o'clock by the time he finally made it into the Time Room. Clocks of all sizes and shapes lined the walls and hung in mid-air in the spare spaces between desks and cabinets, each one ticking in perfect synchronisation. The sound hammered into his ears just like the beautiful, terrible diamond-like light stabbed into his eyes. 

A quick Muffling Charm brought the noise down to manageable levels, and Remus conjured a pair of sunglasses to shield his eyes from the worst of that glorious light. A normal human might have found the light beautiful and the clocks charming, but it was too much for his enhanced senses to bear. 

He threaded his way through desks and past a bell jar that seemed to contain a bird of some sort in a permanent time loop. The mere existence of such a thing made his brain hurt, so he tried not to think about it too much. A large glass case of Time-Turners stood against one wall, which Remus also tried to ignore. Having one could be awfully useful, but that sort of theft would certainly be noticed and he was trying to keep a low profile. 

The Hall of Prophecy was surprisingly easy to get into after that, with no monitoring charms or wards in place at all. The cold of the place seeped into his bones, helped along no doubt by the cool blue light of the magical candles placed at intervals among all of the rows of prophecy orbs. A magically updating index by the door allowed him to search by either the name of an interested party (seer, hearers, or subjects) or the date of the prophecy, and sure enough, there was one about Harry. Remus considered heading back at that point, but he was curious who else might have been involved. 

After a short walk to Row 97, he had his answer. The prophecy was delivered from "S.P.T." to "A.P.W.B.D." on Saturday, January 26th, 1980, and was about a Dark Lord and (probably) Harry Potter. 

"Albus…knew?" Remus asked the chilly darkness. He had far more questions now than he'd anticipated, but before he could think about them more, his Tripwire Charm at the elevator went off. 

[A/N: Yep, cliffhanger. I'll resolve it in less than a week, on Hermione's birthday. Meanwhile, here's a random bonus story for you all that I swear is 100% true. After my senior year of undergrad, my girlfriend and I both hung out at our university over the summer so we could see more of our friends and each other. At one point, we went with some friends to a very good cajun restaurant about a forty-five minute drive away. It was a popular place and even had its own gift shop. We had a reservation, but it still took a bit to seat us 'cause there were about ten of us, so we chilled out in the gift shop for a bit.

Important context for the next bit: this was just after the first Harry Potter movie came out. I had pretty much the same glasses and similar facial structure to young Daniel Radcliffe, but obviously looked a bit older. I also have a faded, jagged, vertical scar above my left eye from a bike accident when I was 18. My girlfriend, OTOH, had pale skin, glasses, and extremely frizzy hair.

Anyway, a waitress came up to my girlfriend and me while we were checking out some t-shirts.  She said I looked just like Harry Potter and was going to tell her daughter that she saw Harry Potter on a date with Hermione, and asked if she could have my autograph for her daughter.

I pretty much always have a pen and paper on me, so I pulled out a notepad and pen and wrote, "To one cool muggle. Sincerely, Harry Potter" and gave it to the waitress. She seemed really happy about it, and my girlfriend thought it was hysterical and sweet.

Oh, and if you're wondering how things ended up with that girlfriend, it's been about twenty years since that night and she's sitting in the room with me as I type this, streaming old episodes of Castle , and wearing a ring I gave her two years later.]

Chapter Text

Scribe, I hath a question for thee.

What's on your mind, Gwendolena?

The opening of thy previous chapter referenced a broom, and this one doth do so again. Is there some sort of reference to events of thine own time that I am missing as I peruse thy work?

Yes, several, sorry. I always forget what you do and don't know from your internet research. Are you familiar with a website called TV Tropes?

Nay. Would that have information of use to me?

Definitely. I'll create a bookmark for you. 

Thank you, kind sir. 

You're welcome…and she's gone again. I hope that wasn't a bad idea.

"Merlin's pants!" Remus swore as he dashed out of the row and back toward the Time Chamber. As he reached the door, his Tripwire Charm at the door of the DoM went off, too. 

That was a bad sign, but not so bad that Remus didn't remember to cast a Muffling Charm around himself and pull out his conjured sunglasses again. As he made his way back through the Time Chamber, his eyes fell upon the Time Turner case and he had an idea. 

The case was surprisingly unprotected. Its door was spelled shut, but the glass wasn't even remotely impervious or protected by a monitoring charm or runic ward. Remus transfigured his sunglasses into full eye protection, shifted his grip on his wand to expose a bit more of the butt, and used it to smash the glass on the case. As he did so, the Tripwire Charm on the elevator went off again. 

That served as a reminder of his precarious situation, so he quickly reached in, took the Time Turner in the upper left, and then cast a Mending Charm on the case door. Once it was fixed, he rewound the Time Turner precisely one turn. A cascade of that diamond light surrounded him, but he could just barely make out the events of the previous hour in that room as time spun backwards in his hand. Besides his own passage, nothing interesting seemed to have occurred. 

As soon as he got his bearings in the past, Remus smashed the glass again, used his robe to wipe off any fingerprints he might have left on the Time Turner, placed the device on the same hook with its past self, and cast another Mending Charm on the case. He then Disillusioned himself, suppressed his scent, and silenced his steps and breathing. Once he was sure he'd be undetectable even to himself, he exited the room, thanking Merlin that he hadn't cast any Human-Presence-Revealing Charms that evening. (He'd considered it, but decided to trust in his stealth, instead. It was safer than someone noticing the spreading light of the Revealing Charm.)

He made it to the elevator lobby a few minutes ahead of his past self, so he hid in the entrance hall to the DoM until past Remus had gone downstairs. He was pretty sure that merely seeing his past self wouldn't cause any sort of paradox, but to be on the safe side, he stood facing the back wall until he was sure (based on his recollections) that his past self was mostly or entirely through the entrance hall.

His past self's attention now thoroughly diverted, Remus made his way to the staircase, disabled his Tripwire Charm, and retrieved his broom. After that, he considered fleeing the building, but curiosity and a desire for an alibi got the better of him. He wanted to know who had come down, if they were looking for an intruder, and if they were looking for him. Also, waiting until they were in there would give him the perfect opportunity for an alibi. While they were hunting him in the DoM, he would leave through the atrium and be sure to be seen by the watchwizard. Without any proof he'd even touched a Time Turner, that alibi should be iron-clad. 

Intellectually, Remus knew he wouldn't have to wait long, but it seemed much longer when he didn't have anything to do besides double-check every five minutes that he'd remembered to Disillusion and Silence his broom. Every ten minutes or so, the elevator would move and get his hopes up, but it always disappointed him in the end. 

Until it didn't. The elevator finally came down to the DoM and opened to reveal Emmeline Vance. She looked around cautiously as she exited the elevator and Remus levelled his wand at her. If she even started the spell Hominem Revelio, he was going to start casting. 

He didn't think she would, though. After all, he knew she was going to trip the Entrance Hall Tripwire Charm in a minute or so. 

She nodded, seemingly satisfied that no one was in her immediate vicinity, and walked over to the door to the DoM Entrance Hall. Instead of going in, though, she knelt in front of it and waved her wand. 

From either side of the doorway, a strand of something incredibly thin rose up and floated in the air in front of her surrounded by a halo of indigo light. Curious, Remus crept forward. His supernaturally sharp vision quickly allowed him to identify it: a strand of hair the same colour and length as Vance's. 

"That's the third time this week," she muttered to herself before snatching the hair out of the air with her free hand and stuffing it back into her pocket. "What is Remus doing in there?"

Remus stood stock still, frozen in thought as Vance disappeared into the Entrance Hall, unknowingly tripping the Tripwire Charm as she went. She clearly thought he'd been the one going into the DoM, but this was the first time he'd been there all week. 

He was idly curious what had given his inappropriate interest in the DoM away, but the much more pressing matter was that someone else was about to come down the elevator based on his past self's memory of these events. Hopefully, it would be Vance's partner and Remus could slip away after they got through the Entrance Hall. 

The elevator began moving again, going all the way to the atrium and before returning to the Ninth Floor. Remus double-checked his stealth charms and moved all the way to the back wall. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he accidentally bumped into the Disillusioned broom he'd left leaning on the wall, but it made no noise when it fell to the ground. He breathed a sigh of relief and thanked Merlin he'd remembered to Silence it, too. Just to ensure he didn't forget it and leave it as potential evidence, he picked it up and held it in his off hand. 

A moment later, the elevator door opened and Watchwizard Munch walked out with a glassy-eyed stare on his bearded face. A witch and a wizard Remus had never seen before followed him out, sadistic grins on their doughy faces and filthy, threadbare robes hanging over their stocky bodies. The wizard had a hunched back and piglike visage, and the witch's sloping shoulders led down to stumpy little arms with stubby fingers. They both giggled wheezily as they walked. 

"Good thinking bringing a test subject to grab the Dark Lord's prophecy, brother!" the witch said. 

He giggled disgustingly again. "I do have my moments. Tonight is the perfect night…so quiet!"

Remus stared in horror as the two probable Death Eaters led the Imperious'd watchwizard into the Entrance Hall. Now would be the perfect time to escape, but he wasn't at all sure Vance could take on two at once if they caught her by surprise. If he helped, though, it might come out that he wasn't supposed to be there. He couldn't help Harry from Azkaban. 

The thought of Harry brought an image of the boy into his mind and Remus imagined telling him, "I found information about your prophecy, but at the cost of a woman's life." 

No. Not happening. Remus readied his wand, hefted his broom, and paused briefly as he wondered "What in Merlin's name was I planning to do with a broom?" 

Then he smiled, tightened his grip on wand and broom, and hurried into the Entrance Hall, moving as fast as he dared while dodging the alarms and wards therein. His foes were well ahead of him, having presumably mapped out the hall in their forays earlier that week. He caught up to them just as they reached the door to the Room of Doors. 

He considered attacking them in the Entrance Hall, but if his initial ambush missed, he'd be in a three-on-one fight, and even if it succeeded it still would be either two-on-one or one-on-one (depending on whether he took down the person controlling Munch with his first spell). Even odds were for duellists and suckers. He needed Vance's help.

As soon as the door swung open, Vance's voice rung out. "Who's there?" 

The probable Death Eaters tensed, but Munch didn't react at all. "We're just auditing the night security," the Dark witch said. 

"That's right," Munch said tonelessly. "I'm bringing them down to audit our security down here at night."

"That's a good idea," Vance said. "That's overdue around here." 

Remus was initially concerned that she'd fallen for it, but she was moving to flank them and put the trio in enfilade to her as she spoke. He grinned at her cleverness and readied the broom. 

"I don't think she believes us, brother." The Dark witch stalked into the room as she spoke, clearly trying to counter Vance's flanking manoeuvre. 

"I think you're right, sister," the Dark wizard replied. "I wish she'd believe us. We'd hurt her less if she believed us."

The witch giggled wheezily at the lie. As she raised her wand, Remus activated the broom's automatic sweeping function and tossed it in her direction. 

That disabled its Silencing and Disillusionment Charms, and Vance's jaw dropped as, from her perspective, a broom appeared out of thin air. It slammed into the Death Eater's back and started vigorously sweeping her robes, which were objectively (along with her brother's) the dirtiest item in the room. 

As the filthy witch tried to bat away the broom, Remus shattered his own stealth spells by launching a barrage of spells at her shocked brother. He went down in seconds, disarmed and bound. Meanwhile, Vance had stunned and disarmed a weakly fighting Munch while the sister fought off the broom. The Dark Witch had only barely managed to destroy the broom with a Reductor Curse when Vance fell upon her.

The Dark Witch was a reasonably skilled fighter, but Vance refused to cede the initiative and kept her on the defensive with a flurry of spells. Remus joined seconds later (both to help Vance and avenge his loyal broom) and the combined spellfire from the two of them overwhelmed her defences.

Once all three of her enemies were safely disarmed, stunned, and bound, Vance took a great heaving breath and looked plaintively at Remus. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?" she asked. "I thought you were the one sneaking around here at night. Who are these people and how did you know I was in trouble?"

He shrugged and shot her a weak grin. "Because I was sneaking around here at night," he said. "I had no idea they were, too, until you mentioned that this was the third time this week someone had broken your hair. I haven't been in all week."

She stared at him. "How did you hear me say that?"

"Disillusionment Charm. I was in the elevator lobby the whole time."

"What? Why?"

"I thought it would be a good alibi if I were seen leaving while you were looking in there."

She furrowed her brows. "But your shift won't end for another four hours or so."

"I'm what you might call 'freelance.'" 

"Ah hah!" Vance unexpectedly started laughing. "I knew it!"

"What gave me away?" Remus asked. "I'm curious."

"You were working," Vance replied. "Nobody works in this building."

Remus had to laugh, too. "Caught out by my own work ethic."

"About that…" Vance trailed off and fidgeted uncomfortably with her wand. "Your plan was good. You'd have been long gone by now if you'd followed it, and you'd have a rock-solid alibi. Why…um…didn't you?"

"I heard them talking in the elevator lobby," Remus said, gesturing to the Dark siblings. "They're monsters. I didn't want them to get the drop on you."

Vance sighed. "That's more consideration than I had any right to expect from someone apparently burglarizing the DOM. You know I have to take you in now, don't you?" As she spoke, she took a couple of hesitant steps forward. Her wand didn't come up.

"I do." Remus shrugged.

"Damn it, Lupin!" She stormed up to him, grabbed his right hand in her left, and lifted it to aim his wand right between her eyes. "Just Obliviate me and stun me already!" 

"I'm sorry, but I can't," he said. 

"What do you mean, you can't? I remember you as a prefect at Hogwarts and from the Order. You were a better wizard than most of the people in my year, to say nothing of yours. There's no way you can't cast a simple Memory Charm like this would be."

He shook his head and lowered his wand. "I mean I literally can't use Mind Magic."

"But…" her off hand released his wand hand and she ran her fingers down his arm, up his shoulder, up his neck, and finally along the scars on his face. "You…can't be…"

Remus had to fight the urge to shiver at her touch. "Ever since I was a little boy," he said.

"They'll double your sentence in Azkaban just for that." Her fingers brushed a scar on his temple as she spoke. 

He sighed, though he wasn't sure if it was because of that depressing truth or the feeling of her fingers. "I know."

"And you came for me anyway."

"I had to."

She smiled sadly. "That's objectively false and you know it."

"I suppose it is."

"Let's try this again." Vance shifted her hand so it was cupping his cheek. "I asked you to owl me so we could get together sometime. Why didn't you?"

Remus gestured at himself. "Because I'm…not who you thought I was. I'm this."

"Remus?" she asked. 

"Yes?"

Emmeline patted his cheek. "You're a fucking idiot."

He blinked. "Wh…what?"

"I thought you were a decent, reasonably good-looking man who was able to hold down multiple steady jobs and seemed genuinely happy about my professional advancement, which automatically makes you more interesting as a potential romantic partner than at least seventy percent of the wizards on this Merlin-forsaken island." She shot him a predatory grin. "Instead, you turn out to be a hardworking, fast-thinking, skilled duellist with incredible personal integrity and a willingness to put others first even at tremendous risk to yourself, who also seemed genuinely happy about my professional advancement. You're right. You're not who I thought you were. I thought you were a potential romantic partner. You are actually someone I want to take back to my flat and ride like a prize stallion."

Remus was so surprised that he didn't fight her when the hand on his cheek slid around to the back of his neck and pulled him in for the steamiest kiss of his life. 

Several minutes later, they finally broke off the kiss and she rested her head on his shoulder. "I hate to ask this," Emmeline said, "but why were you down here? I probably shouldn't go any further with you if it turns out you're some sort of international artefact thief."

Remus chuckled. "No, no, that's far too glamorous for me. I was here investigating a prophecy…probably the same one the siblings there were looking for."

"Seriously?" Emmeline took her head off of his shoulder and stepped back so she could look him in the eyes. "What could you possibly have in common with them?"

"I was looking for it because I wanted to see if there was an unfulfilled prophecy about Harry Potter," he said. "The man mentioned they were looking for a prophecy about their Dark Lord. The one I found was about both."

She furrowed her brows. "How is that possible? There can't be any unfulfilled prophecies about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named anymore. He's dead."

Remus shook his head silently. 

"Oh fuck," Emmeline breathed.

"I can show you if you want," Remus said. 

"I'd like to, but I need to get back to my office before my partner comes looking for me," Emmeline said. "Is it bad that I now wish you were an international artefact thief?"

"No, I think that's a sensible reaction to that information," Remus said. "I didn't take it well, either."

She sighed. "There's so much I need to know, but we need a plan to get you out of here first. Do you mind pretending to be a bit of a coward and letting me take most of the credit for this?"

Remus shrugged. "I didn't come here tonight for an Order of Merlin. I just want to stay out of Azkaban."

She leaned in and kissed him briefly. "Humility, dear Remus, will get you everywhere."

"I must be getting old," Remus replied. "It used to be my tongue that got me everywhere."

Emmeline blinked in surprise, then threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, I like you," she said. "Now come on. You have some people to meet."

Auror Proudfoot looked over his parchment and frowned. "This is the weirdest damn story. Alright, Mr. Lupin, let me make sure I have this straight. Auror Vance thought you were up to something, so she started checking for intruders at the Department of Mysteries. She proceeded to find some, but it turned out to be these two old Death Eaters who slipped through the cracks after the War. Meanwhile, you noticed Auror Vance go into the Department of Mysteries, then saw these two and their Imperious'd captive go in, too. You were worried about Auror Vance's safety, so you followed them in, distracting the witch with your broom and allowing her to safely subdue all three."

"That's correct, Auror Proudfoot," Lupin said. "At least as far as what I'd like on the report. I was actually involved in the exchange of spellfire with the former Death Eaters and their captive, but I'd rather Auror Vance get sole credit for that. All I can afford is a flat in Knockturn Alley and I'd rather my neighbours didn't find out about this little adventure."

Proudfoot sighed. "And Scrimgeour would definitely want to give you an Order of Merlin if he found out the truth. He lives for those sorts of headlines. Are you sure, Mr. Lupin? You deserve one."

"Unless it comes with enough money for me to afford a flat somewhere else, yes," Lupin replied. 

"Point taken." Proudfoot sighed again. "I don't like this, but I don't want to put you in any danger, either. I'll submit this as the report. You're free to return to work, Mr. Lupin. I'd say to tell Old Brumby that you were with us if he asks, but he's probably just happy you're not working as hard tonight."

Lupin smiled ruefully. "I imagine so. Thank you."

Vance was waiting for him outside of the interview room. "Thank you again, Mr. Lupin," she said. 

"It was no trouble at all, Auror Vance," Lupin replied. "I just did what any public-spirited citizen would have done."

"So what he means," Proudfoot said drily as he came up behind Lupin, "is that if it had been any of the other building staff, you'd be dead right now."

Lupin and Vance both laughed at that. "That's not entirely fair," Lupin said. "Arthur Weasley would have helped, I'm sure."

Proudfoot nodded. "True. That poor man is probably the hardest-working non-Auror here. He really believes in his work, though I sometimes wonder whether he knows the first thing about muggles."

Lupin chuckled. "I can imagine. Well, goodnight, Aurors."

"Goodnight," they told him.

After Lupin left, Proudfoot sighed. "There goes a better janitor than any of us around here deserve," he said. "And we can't thank him."

"We really can't," Vance said. 

Proudfoot had partnered regularly with Vance for five years now, sufficiently long to get to know her well enough to know she was lying through her teeth right then. He shot her a sidelong glance and was rewarded with a faint blush.

"Well…we can't," she said.

"But you…?" Proudfoot said.

"I haven't had a man in months, so I am going to take advantage of the fact that I have a couple of days off after this series of night shifts and reward him until neither of us can walk straight," she said matter-of-factly.

Proudfoot laughed so hard he nearly fell over.

Chapter Text

"Wait just one moment," Hestia said firmly. "I am not going to just stand here and try to catch stray spells on my Shield Charms while you demonstrate the children’s duelling skills to their parents."

"Oh," Sirius said. "What are we going to do, then?"

Isaac and Miranda shot each other an inscrutable look before turning to Sirius. "Sirius," Isaac said, "how do you keep yourself safe while you're training the children?"

"Um…by catching any stray spells on my Shield Charm," Sirius said. "It's good training for me, too, and they don't know any really dangerous stuff."

Miranda sighed. "Why is literally nothing about the Wizarding World safe?"

"Magical healing," Hestia said. "Most people don't worry too much about injuries and some of them…" she held a hand up to Sirius's face and flicked his nose, "...are also plonkers."

"We're careful not to aim at him," Hermione said. Harry nodded. 

"We can do better than that," Hestia said. "Dobby?"

The elf popped up wearing bright orange children's galoshes, a toga made of an old pillowcase, and a Phrygian cap. "Yay! The whole family is being here! Do yous have lots of work for Dobby? Dobby is tired of not being tired."

Miranda's eyebrows shot up, but Hestia just forged ahead. "Dobby, do you know that hideous nightstand in the guest bedroom on the third floor?"

"Does yous means the one with the centaurs and merpeople—"

"Yes," Hestia said quickly. "Please wait until the children have turned around and then bring it down here."

"Awww," Harry said. "We were curious about that one but you've kept the door magically locked." 

"I most certainly have," Hestia said in a tone that brooked no argument. "And how do you know I've kept the door magically locked?"

"Um…" Harry paused for a moment.

Hestia ignored him and turned to Hermione. "I don't believe Harry is even close to casting an Unlocking Charm yet, but you, young lady…"

"Humph," Hermione said. "We wanted to know what you were hiding from us. It sounded interesting."

"I'm disappointed in both of you," Sirius said. "There are some doors in this house that stay locked for good reasons. We don't want either of you sneaking into a room and getting hurt."

"This was just the nightstand," Harry said. "It's not going to hurt us."

"Not physically, at least," Hestia muttered. "How did you know it was just the nightstand, though? We could have used that room to store more dangerous things, even the books that discuss the…um…Innominate Entities. Harry, would you want Hermione getting her hands on those books?"

"No." Harry looked down at his feet. 

"And Hermione, would you want Harry to get in there and accidentally touch a sword that could set him on fire?"

"Of course not!" she said. "You don't have any of those in the house, do you?"

"We're pretty sure we don't," Hestia said, "but that doesn't mean we didn't at one time."

Sirius thought for a moment. "I think that sword actually stuck itself to your hand and started drenching your skin in acid until you cut your hand off," he said.

"Oh, right," Hestia said.

The rest of them paled, even Miranda, which was no small feat. 

"Do you see what I mean?" Hestia asked. "Now, I want you to promise me that you won't try to sneak around in here anymore."

"I promise," Harry said.