Chapter Text
Harry Potter's Hogwarts letter arrived on a perfect summer day when Harry and Snake -- Snake the Second, as Remus and Sirius knew him -- were sunning themselves near the big rock down by the river at the bottom of the garden.
Remus was still at work at the bookshop, and Sirius was working on the house, a new hobby of his; currently he was re-securing the guttering in anticipation of a wet autumn. They wouldn't be here in autumn, of course, but Sirius had tried to retain some semblance of normalcy as the summer drew on; Harry suspected Sirius didn't like change much, and was trying to put off the inevitable.
Harry blinked when the letter landed lightly on his chest, and waved as the owl swooped away. He tilted his head back and saw Sirius dangle from the guttering for a moment before dropping handily to the ground.
"Owl post!" Sirius said excitedly, throwing himself down next to Harry. "Open it then! No -- wait -- camera -- and Remus should be here -- "
"Sirius, don't make a big deal," Harry said. "Let me open it."
"Wait till Remus comes home?" Sirius pleaded. "He'd kill us if he missed it."
Harry sighed. "Why can't I open it? We all know what it's going to say."
"Rite of passage, this is," Sirius said, tapping Harry's letter. "Big moment in a young lad's -- ow!"
Harry bit down a grin as a heavy packet hit Sirius in the back of the head, nearly bowling him over, and another owl flapped away. Sirius rubbed his head and reached for the thick envelope lying in the grass.
"Bit old for Hogwarts, aren't you, Sirius?" Harry asked. Sirius thwacked his godson affectionately and examined the cream-coloured envelope.
"Small wonder," he said. "It's from Severus Snape. He must have told the owls where to go."
"What is it then?" Harry asked. "Or is getting clobbered with a huge bulky letter another rite of passage in a young man's life?"
Sirius gave him a playful scowl and ripped the envelope open.
"To Sirius Black, Guardian of Harry Potter, et cetera..." Sirius skimmed the letter. "Clippings from the Prophet," he muttered. "News about Peter -- or apparently lack thereof. Suppose this is his idea of a welcome back to the Wizarding World."
"Does he say hello to me?" Harry asked eagerly, craning his neck to see the neat copperplate handwriting. Sirius snapped the letter shut.
"Not directly," he replied. "Here, you want to look through the clippings with me?"
"Sirius! Harry!" someone called, and both turned to see Remus rounding the corner of the house, carrying a satchel and walking his bicycle. He leaned the cycle up against the house, under the ladder Sirius had used to get onto the roof with, and tossed the satchel to Sirius. "Couple of books for you. Library was having a -- is that a Hogwarts letter?" he asked abruptly. Harry waved it and grinned. "Congratulations, Harry. Go on then, open it."
Remus sat crosslegged in front of Harry, Sirius leaning over his godson's shoulder, as Harry lifted the red wax seal and took out his official Hogwarts letter. He grinned as both men let out a low, relieved breath. There was a moment of reverent silence.
"Your dad and mum'd be that proud," Remus said gently. Sirius ruffled Harry's messy hair.
"We'll take you to Diagon Alley, end of August," Sirius decreed. "Get you your robes and your wand and everything. Send you off in proper style for the son of James Potter and heir of the House of Black. Get you a racing broom too."
"Says here first years aren't allowed racing brooms," Harry said, examining the letter.
"Oh, it always says that. We'll smuggle one in," Sirius assured him. Harry looked from Remus' quiet smile to Sirius' broad grin and sighed happily, leaning back against the rock, basking in the afternoon sun.
***
"Mum! Dad! They've arrived!"
Padma and Parvati raced down the walk and out onto the pavement to greet their parents, waving their Hogwarts letters proudly. Ram Patil caught Parvati up in a big bear hug, and Sarasvati took Padma's hand, accepting the letter solemnly.
"Both of you, then?" Ram inquired of Parvati, who beamed and nodded while he set her down. Padma saw the glance her parents exchanged and shared in the relief evident on their faces. Parvati had been regularly setting the drapes on fire as proof of her magical ability since she was three; Padma had barely shown any magic at all, and what she did show wasn't really all that convincing. She'd been worried her sister would go off to Hogwarts without her.
It wasn't, she felt, an unjustified worry. She and Parvati had never really been good at doing the twins-joined-at-the-hip thing like the Weasley brothers were; their parents had often wondered aloud how they'd managed to share the same womb for nine months, since they hadn't been able to share a bedroom for more than three before they started wailing at each other whenever they were put in the same crib.
Sarasvati squeezed Padma's hand. "Of course they're both going. They're our daughters," she said proudly as they walked back up the steps and into the house. "This calls for a celebration. Where would you two most like to eat?"
Padma entered the squabble over restaurants with vigour, as she was usually able to trick Parvati into demanding to go the one place Padma wanted; it was all a matter of triggering Parvati's competitive streak and then aiming it in the proper direction. Most of Padma's life was spent calmly using her wits to make sure her sister didn't bowl her over with typical Parvati enthusiasm.
The rest of the evening was spent in a flurry of celebratory dining, floo-calls to various relatives, a couple of calls to Padma and Parvati's friends to see if they'd gotten theirs yet (poor Annabelle was a squib, it appeared, though she'd never been much fond of magic so she was taking it rather well). It wasn't until Padma went to put on her pyjamas that night that she really thought about what the Hogwarts letter meant.
She'd be leaving her bedroom, her books, her games and puzzles. She could take a few of them, she supposed, the ones she really liked, but for the most part she'd be going to a new place with new things, and might end up having to share a bedroom with Parvati if they were sorted into the same house.
Her mother found her clutching the corner of the bedspread indecisively, staring at the letter on her lamp-table. Sarasvati stroked her daughter's hair soothingly and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Aren't you pleased?" she asked. "You're going to Hogwarts, like your father and I did. And you'll have your sister there. Besides, all your friends are going."
Padma nodded and slid into the bed, watching her mother from her pillow.
"It's all right to be a little frightened," Sarasvati continued. "I was. But you'll have a wonderful time, Padma. Hogwarts will be the most fun, and you'll meet so many nice people."
"Mum, what house do you think I'll get?" Padma asked softly.
"Well, your father was a Gryffindor and I was a Hufflepuff, so it's anyone's guess, love. Worried about sharing rooms with Parvati?"
"I want to be Padma. Not Padma-and-Parvati," Padma said.
Her mother smiled and stroked her cheek. "You are Padma," she said softly, kissing her forehead. "That's all you need. Sleep now. Dream good dreams of Hogwarts."
Padma nodded and rolled over, closing her eyes, but sleep was a long time in coming.
***
Narcissa had decided, when Draco was younger, that owls were filthy creatures that should not be allowed inside of respectable homes, no matter how old a Wizarding tradition the Owl Post was. Owl deliveries to the Malfoy estate were redirected to a perch outside the kitchen, where one of the house-elves would accept the post, pay if necessary, and send the bird off without Narcissa ever seeing it. Draco thought it something of a shame, as he liked owls, but he contented himself with watching them from the kitchen window.
His tutors, after thoroughly preparing him for the rigors of Hogwarts, had been sent off in early April with suitable letters of recommendation and small bonuses for their services. Draco had nothing to do all summer but mooch around, keep out of Narcissa's way, and watch for his letter. Surely he'd get one. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he didn't. He'd be seriously contemplating matricide. After all, if it was good enough for Orestes...
They didn't get much post at any rate, Narcissa being what Draco now knew to call a "recluse", though he rather thought barking mad covered the bases pretty well also. He felt guilty even thinking it; it made him want to hide somewhere, but all his old hiding places were too small for him now, and if he wanted to escape Narcissa he had to retreat to the library and lose himself as best he could in the sheet-covered stacks. Narcissa didn't like the library so it was usually safe, unless she was on an especially angry rampage, in which case nowhere was.
They'd only had four owls since April, and two of those had been adverts.
Still, he sat on the stool near the kitchen door that led out to the owl-post depository and the midden. He read or talked to the house-elves, or simply just stared at the sky. He liked watching the sky change. You never had to worry when the sky changed moods, because even the storm clouds were lovely in their own right. He could get lost for hours and it was just as well, because otherwise he'd just get into mischief again and Narcissa would come looking for him.
The plain brown barn-owl fluttered down, squawked when it was denied access to the kitchen window, and landed sulkily on the perch provided. As if in spite, it relieved itself right after it landed. Draco smiled at the caprice, then leapt to his feet when he saw the envelope it held in its beak.
"Mendy is going to get the Owl Post, Master Draco -- " one of the house-elves said worriedly, but Draco thrust her aside and went himself, snatching a handful of owl treats from the bowl near the door and offering them shyly to the little brown owl, who dropped her letter into his right hand and promptly gobbled two treats from his left. He tucked the letter in his shirt pocket and stroked the soft, downy head -- but only for a moment before the little owl screeched her goodbye and soared away.
He scattered the rest of the treats on the ground, in case any passing owls should want one, and turned to the kitchen door.
The house-elves, all nine of them, were gathered in the doorway, watching him with wide, bulbous eyes.
"Master Draco is going to Hogwarts!" Dobby squeaked.
Draco smiled.
"Master Draco is going to Hogwarts," he agreed, pleasure welling up inside him at the thought, only pinpricked by fear at the very edges. The house-elves looked at each other.
"Mendy is baking Master Draco a cake," Mendy said decisively, and with that the congregation of elves dissipated.
Draco sighed as he touched the letter in his pocket gently.
Now he just had to tell his mum.
***
Neville had, it was true, some training in tolerance. Being raised by his grandmother, he'd had to develop quite a bit of patience. When Andromeda had first brought the boy home she'd found him quiet, polite, shy, and not terribly competent. Then again, after Nymphadora, as long as he didn't drop the dishes on a regular basis she wouldn't ask for much.
Still, she realised it was a bit much to ask a boy to spend all day in his stifling, formal dress robes. As soon as they arrived home after Nymphadora's Academy graduation she let him run upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing for the reception that they were holding in the temporarily-emptied show room on the bottom floor of Grimmauld Place -- now known as "Tonks & Tonks, Purveyors of Fine Wizarding Dress". Nymphadora looked like she, too, would like to change out of her Auror's dress uniform, but she was going to be meeting her trainer -- two years of classes, one year of apprenticeship, that was the Auror programme -- for the first time at the reception, and she wanted to make an impression.
Neville came thumping down the stairs just as people were starting to arrive, and he greeted them with the hurried politeness of a ten-year-old who knows that delicious things are being prepared in the kitchen and, if he makes a pathetic face, samples will be distributed. Andromeda watched him from the doorway with a smile; two years ago, she would never have imagined this bright, energetic child could be the same frightened boy who'd been taken away from such a dour, unloving home. And to be sure it had been a long two years; Neville still hid under the bed whenever Death Eaters or You Know Who was mentioned, and he insisted on checking all the locks at night himself. Andromeda wondered how he was going to fare, sharing a room with a handful of other boys -- and Hogwarts boys were known for borrowing without asking first -- but she put it out of her mind. He'd come this far. He'd survive.
Besides, Harry would be going to Hogwarts too, and she'd ask Harry to look out for him. She'd already had words with Severus about making sure Neville didn't lose anything -- he was famous for losing things -- or get too badly picked on by any of the other boys. Severus had muttered that a boy had to learn to stand up for himself, but she was nearly positive he'd intervene if he had to. If he wasn't picking on Neville himself, anyway. Nymphadora had feared the name Snape for years.
Andromeda sighed and wondered how she and Ted, who were fairly normal as Magical folk went, could raise a klutz like Dora and a dreamer like Neville. Not that she didn't love them, of course. She loved them more, on account of it. Still, she did wonder if there wasn't some sort of curse.
Neville was in the kitchen already, pestering Ted for a bite -- just a little bite! -- of the carrot cake he was icing.
"What do you say, love?" Ted asked, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her close as he deftly guided the frosting onto the cake with his wand. He finished with a flourish. "Shall I give him one of the cupcakes I made with the extra?"
"You take the cake in," Andromeda said. "Neville and I can finish in here."
"You just want me out of the way so you can give him two," Ted said, but he kissed her cheek and carried the cake into the other room, calling out the names of a few family friends in greeting. Andromeda found the cupcakes and gave Neville one, eating the other one herself as he grinned at her. The charmed wriggling sprinkles on the icing tickled their tongues. Ted had made these especially for them, since wriggling sprinkles were clearly beneath the dignity of most Aurors.
"Dora's a real Auror now, huh," Neville said around mouthfuls of cake.
"Almost, sweetheart," she replied, licking her fingers.
"I'd be scared to be an Auror," he said. Andromeda, remembering Frank and Alice, smiled gently.
"You'd make a fine Auror. You'll be good at whatever you do," she chided gently. Neville flushed and looked down. She was going to admonish him not to be embarrassed by the truth when there was a scrabbling at the window and she reached out to let in the post-owl who was scratching at the glass. The big black owl hooted, and Neville shied away a bit as it hopped towards him, holding a letter in its beak.
"Oh -- " Andromeda beamed, accepting the letter and giving the owl some carrot-cupcake to maul. "Look, it's your Hogwarts letter."
Neville's eyes went wide as she opened it and passed it to him. After a minute he looked up, and a broad grin split his face. "I'm going to Hogwarts!"
"Of course you are!" Andromeda laughed and hugged him. "Come on, let's go tell everyone!"
He caught her hand and she stopped on her way to the door, turning to look at him quizzically. He clutched the letter to his chest.
"But it's Dora's party," he said.
"Yes, but sweetheart, everyone's here -- "
He shook his head. "I don't want to."
She turned and crouched to be closer to his level. "But Neville, it's a big day for you!"
"But it's Dora's party," he repeated stubbornly. "Everyone should be talking about her. Not about me."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded. "We can tell Dora and Ted at dinner, and everyone else tomorrow. Please?"
Andromeda looked at his round, solemn face, and finally she smiled.
"You," she said, "are going to be a wonderful man someday, Mister Longbottom."
He blushed again and folded the letter carefully, placing it on the windowsill. Andromeda watched him prepare himself to go out into the crowd of people now filling the other room. When he finally did, she followed, joining in the loud admiration of Tonks' new badge and uniform and diploma.
She couldn't have been prouder of either of her children.
***
The day the Hogwarts letters were mailed to the first years, Severus Snape could not stay still, nor eat properly; Dumbledore met him in Hogsmeade, walking swiftly towards the outlying marshland north of the mountains, once known as the Hogsmeade Fens. He was dressed in his usual black trousers, a green shirt hanging off his shoulders, his still-short hair somewhat wild; he looked all of seventeen or eighteen himself, except for the three jagged stripes that ran from temple to lip on the right side of his face, a battle scar from his fight with Peter Pettigrew two years previous.
"There's no need to be anxious, Severus," Dumbledore said, falling into step next to the Potions master. "It's only the letters."
"It's more than that this year, and you know it," Snape replied, slowing his stride only slightly to match Dumbledore's. "Harry's coming this year."
Dumbledore smiled and walked slower still, forcing Snape to slow as well. "Indeed he is. Are you nervous because he might not remember you? Or because he might?"
Snape looked at him sharply, his expression so surprised that Dumbledore knew he hadn't even been considering that part of it.
"What if the owl can't find him?" he asked finally. "Or -- if they've decided to send him somewhere else?"
"You've told the owls where he lives. If nothing else, they'll simply wait until he leaves the house. The owls always find the students," Dumbledore said gravely. "That's old magic. And Sirius Black would not send his child anywhere but Hogwarts. He loved this school far too much to deny Harry his place here."
"How can you know?"
"Because I am not hampered by the same affection you and Sirius hold for the boy," Dumbledore answered.
"It's not the boy," Snape muttered. "It's just he's meant to go here and I haven't invested my own time in his education just to -- "
He stopped when Dumbledore held up a hand.
"The owls will find him, Severus. Sirius will bring him to Diagon Alley and then to the platform. The train will take him and all his companions to the school. You will see Harry again at the feast, in a month's time. You've waited this long. You can wait another few weeks."
Snape ducked his head and kicked the dust of the Hogsmeade road, looking like nothing so much as the sullen twenty-year-old boy who'd come to Dumbledore because he had nowhere else to turn.
"I may have missed his...unique outlook on life," he admitted dourly.
"I am sure by the time he leaves school you will be heartily sick of it, if that is any consolation," Dumbledore said, resting a hand on his shoulder and turning him back towards Hogwarts. "Come. We have preparations to make for the school year."
Snape sighed, so quietly Dumbledore almost didn't hear it, and followed.
***
After Harry was asleep that evening, Sirius curled up on his own bed, sore from the work he'd done and tired from all the talk that afternoon about Hogwarts. Remus, drowsing against his back, warmed him some; he'd discovered werewolves ran hot, something that was only an issue in the late summer when Remus would threaten to leave them both for somewhere in northern Canada where the weather knew what it was about. At the moment Sirius welcomed the extra heat; he could feel it leeching the pain from his shoulders.
"So," Remus said quietly, arm draped over his hip, twining one hand in his, "Harry's going to Hogwarts."
"That's the plan," Sirius replied, eyes closed, tired of thinking.
"Do you want me to start looking for flats in London?" Remus asked.
"No," Sirius said sullenly.
"It'll do us good to get out of Betwys Beddau," Remus mused, ignoring him. "It's lovely here, but I miss big cities. And being able to do magic whenever I pleased. It doesn't have to be London, either. We could move back to Little Whinging if you really wanted."
"Don't make fun."
"Or we could go north. York. Newcastle, even. I don't think Hogsmeade would be wise -- too close for my tastes," Remus said. Sirius felt warm lips on the back of his neck. "I mean, if I was Harry I wouldn't want me living that close. Bit embarrassing, like."
"I like it here."
"Mmm, you would," Remus answered, now touching his stomach lightly, tracing small circles just above the loose pyjama bottoms he wore. "Content to dream your days away..."
"I don't see what's so wrong with that," Sirius said, relaxing into the touch, the reassuring solidity of the man now kissing his shoulder.
"I want," a gentle bite on his earlobe, "to be able," a kiss on his jaw, "to do magic again..."
Sirius turned a little to welcome Remus' kiss, familiar after two years but still with the capacity to take his breath away. They lay there for a while, Remus propped over him, resting against his body, hands inching across his skin before finally tugging at his pyjamas. He could feel Remus' arousal pressed against his hip, but just as warm and promising were his hands, everywhere at once, gliding over sensitive skin, teasing him until he moaned softly, and gave up trying to sulk.
"In London, with our magic back, I could do the most wicked things to you," Remus murmured in his ear. "I know all sorts of lovely charms..."
"Don't need 'em," Sirius answered, gasping under the onslaught of sensation. He managed to catch one of Remus' hands with his own and guided it across his stomach, and lower. Remus chuckled in his ear, unresisting, and stroked him lightly.
"A vote of confidence," he said, in a voice that made Sirius whimper.
"You...please..." he managed, and felt another laugh rumble in Remus' chest. The deft, slow strokes stopped and Remus reached across, moaning in his ear as he rubbed against him. Sirius fumbled the drawer of the nightstand open, and pressed the small jar into Remus' hand. He felt the other man pause as he warmed the oil, and then a slick pressure, Remus whispering things in his ear one would never believe the studious-looking man could say --
He turned his head for another kiss as Remus pressed against him gently, and then inside him, still wondering at oh how good it was and how Remus, please he had ever gone without it. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the easy rhythm, the unhurried way Remus kissed and touched him. It was effortless, just to allow the other man to draw him closer, away from the world and its threats, from everything he was afraid of. It was all right here, in this bed, and he barely caught his breath as he came, though Remus shuddered and cried out his name.
Silence for a minute, two, as they cleaned up a bit -- this was so much easier with magic -- and readjusted themselves to sleep. Remus finally buried his face in Sirius' broad back and murmured softly, lips moving against the skin of his shoulder blade, "We're all right, Pads. S'gonna be okay."
"Yeah," Sirius agreed, unable to remember precisely what he had been worried about. "Love you, Moony."
"Mmm. You too, Sirius," Remus mumbled, slipping into sleep.
***
That August, Diagon Alley was full of parents and students as well as the usual shoppers, the hangers-about, the street vendors and gossips. Andromeda's boutique was doing a booming business as students bought school robes and formal robes; some parents were drawn in while waiting for their children to finish making their purchases independently in other places. No matter that 12 Grimmauld Place was -- for all intents and purposes -- a rundown town house in the middle of a bad London neighbourhood; inside it was "a shrine to classic fashion and style" (Daily Prophet, 9 April 1990) and it was easily reached through a portkey shopfront in Diagon Alley.
None of this was in the minds of Remus and Sirius as they followed Harry up the stairs from the tube station and out into Charing Cross Road. Harry had a backpack of the few things from home he wanted to bring with him; all his guardians had were their wands, tucked in their back pockets. One of the notes in the packet sent to Sirius was that their wands would re-activate the first time they set foot in Diagon Alley. They were watchful as they guided Harry towards the Leaky Cauldron, but nothing seemed amiss --
Until they stepped inside.
Word had got around in the two years they'd been gone that Sirius Black had taken young Harry Potter into seclusion with some tutor, a chap named Lupin whom some of them had known at Hogwarts, memorable mainly for his lack of memorability and sickly disposition. Sirius' face was relatively well-known, as he was heir to a fine old house, and his name popped up occasionally in connection with Andromeda Tonks; when they walked into the Leaky Cauldron, it was Sirius that everyone noticed first, tall and handsome as ever, trailed slightly by a scar-faced brown-haired man and guiding, by the shoulder, a slim young boy...
Sirius cleared his throat as silence fell throughout the pub. Finally Tom, the barman, came forward.
"To be sure, Sirius, it's good to see you again," he said, holding out his hand. Sirius shook it. "And this'll be young Harry Potter then, won't it?"
"This is Harry," Sirius rumbled, with an ominous look for anyone who would accost the boy or give him grief. Several people leaned in to each other to remark they didn't like the look of the bloke behind them. A bodyguard, perhaps? "Harry, this is Tom."
Harry held out his hand automatically, and Tom beamed wide as he shook it, showing a toothless grin. Other people came forward slowly as they made their way through the pub, introducing themselves and saying what an honour it was to meet the boy. Harry shook hands politely, and grinned once or twice; some of them, it was true -- and after two years in the Muggle world, these things became evident -- were dressed extremely oddly.
"Quirrell, old chap!" Sirius exclaimed, as they reached the back of the pub. A young, nervous-looking man lifted his head -- face pale under a shock of unruly auburn-brown hair. "Of all the people to run into. Harry, this is Joseph Quirrell. He was with us at school, a year below -- I tutored him for his OWLs," Sirius said, as Quirrell held out his hand to shake Harry's. "Transfiguration and Potions. Good to see you, Quirrell."
"P-p-pleasure, I'm sure," Quirrell stammered. "H-h-hallo, S-Sirius -- L-l-lu-l-lu -- "
"Hi, Quirrell," Remus said, sparing the man. "Good to, er...see you again. What brings you to Diagon Alley?"
"Oh, I-i-i have some p-purchases to m-ake," Quirrell answered. "T-t-t-teaching at Hogwarts this year -- "
"Are you really?" Remus asked interestedly. "Well done you! What's your subject?"
"Best not be Transfiguration!" Sirius grinned.
"D-d-defence Against the D-d-dark Arts," Quirrell smiled weakly. Remus glanced at Sirius, who was hiding some emotion -- concern, amusement, perhaps dismay -- rather well. "I s-suppose I'll see you there, eh H-h-harry?"
"That you will -- which reminds us, we should be getting on. Good to see you again," Sirius continued, gently guiding Harry out the back door.
"Good luck at Hogwarts," Remus added, following. When they were out into the poky little alley behind the pub, he met Sirius' eye. "What on earth happened to him? He was always a bit of a runt, but my god!"
"Dunno," Sirius said, removing his wand from his pocket and giving it an experimental shake. A few reddish sparks flew off the tip. "Oh, splendid; look Moony, they work again."
"And that one's teaching Defence? Very peculiar," Remus continued, while Sirius tapped the bricks in order. Harry, who had come to Diagon Alley as a child in the months between his kidnapping from the Dursleys and their move to Wales, beamed brightly and stood very still as the bricks slid back. Sirius felt happy pinpricks across his skin as Diagon Alley appeared before them.
"Welcome home, Harry," he murmured.
They stepped out into the street and Sirius glanced at Remus to find him holding his wand as they walked, levitating a pound coin in front of them; clearly Remus had missed magic more than Sirius.
"First thing we've got to do is go to Gringotts and get these notes changed," Sirius said, the floating pound coin reminding him. He had a thick roll of hundred-pound notes in his back pocket; hardly the majority of his Muggle bank account, but enough to open and nicely pad an account with Gringott's. "Read off your list there, Harry, and remind me what all you need."
Harry pulled out the already much-worn addendum to the Hogwarts letter. "Three sets of plain work robes -- "
"We'll get your uniform at Andromeda's," Sirius said, pointing as they passed the Portkey shopfront with Hogwarts uniforms in the windows and TONKS & TONKS over the door.
" -- there's a bunch of class textbooks -- "
"Flourish and Blotts," Remus said, and both Harry and Sirius could hear the book-lust in his voice.
" -- a set of potions stuff -- hey, you think we'll see Professor Snape?" Harry asked. Sirius growled.
"Shouldn't doubt he's lurking somewhere."
Harry swatted him with the letter. "If we do, you have to be nice, Sirius," he scolded.
"Fine, fine."
"Anyway, I also have to get a telescope, a pewter size-two cauldron, a set of brass scales, and a wand," Harry finished, staring as they passed a potion supply house with a barrel of dried rhinocerous beetles out front.
"We'll have to stop by the pet shop, too," Sirius said. "I know a witch -- well, if she's still working there -- who can tell us whether it's okay to bring Snake to Hogwarts..." as he spoke, a small, triangular head poked up over Harry's collar, and he sighed. "I did say you might want to leave Snake home," he said, a trifle scoldingly.
"He wanted to come," Harry replied, not at all put out. "He's having an extremely good time. There are lots of new tastes," he translated, as the snake hissed gently in his ear.
"Boy talks to snakes, I'm sure I don't know where we went wrong," Sirius muttered good-naturedly as they arrived in front of Gringott's. "Now, if I remember right -- "
"Good lord, look," Remus said. "There's old Hagrid."
"The gamekeeper?" Sirius asked, scanning the crowd of people inside. "I don't -- oh, of course," he added, as a large shape loomed in front of them. Neither Remus nor Sirius were particularly short men, but Hagrid towered over them both, his huge mass of hair and beard making him look even bigger. He was talking to a goblin as they walked, carrying a small, paper-wrapped parcel in one hand. "Hagrid!" Sirius called, and the man turned to look at them. "Rubeus Hagrid!"
"As I live an' breathe," Hagrid said as the goblin wandered off. He sidetracked from his course and joined them just inside the entrance. "Black and Lupin. Hallo boys, how're things then?"
"Fine, Hagrid," Remus answered, with a grin. "Keeping out of trouble."
"You two? Not bloody likely. The number a' times I had to chase you an' your mates ou' of my pumpkin patch -- here, now, and you're young Harry Potter, aren' you?" Hagrid said, bending over to hold out his hand to Harry, who almost stepped backwards as though an avalanche were descending. "Knew yer dad an' mum. Good people. Here for yer school stuff, are ye?"
"Shake hands, Harry," Sirius murmured, and Harry took the giant man's hand, nodding as he regained polite composure. "Yes, sir," he added. Sirius knew Harry had seen Hagrid when he'd visited Professor Snape, years ago, but Hagrid would have known him by another name -- if he remembered Parvus Rana at all.
"Here on business?" Remus inquired politely, indicating the package. Hagrid stuffed it hastily into his enormous overcoat.
"Sort of, sort of. Fetchin' somethin' for Dumbledore. Top secret Hogwarts things," Hagrid said somewhat proudly, and Remus and Sirius exchanged a grin.
"Give him our regards," Sirius said. "Excuse me, I think a window's just opened up..."
They said their goodbyes quickly and Sirius laid down the roll of notes, watching as the goblin behind the counter thumbed through them, weighed out the appropriate amount of gold, and measured it into two sacks at Sirius' request: a smaller one which he handed to Harry, and a much larger one for himself.
"I'll hold this, and your backpack," Remus said, taking them from Harry. "How'd you like to go see Sirius' new vault with him?"
"Can I?" Harry asked Sirius, who grinned.
"It's the ride of your life, lad," Sirius answered. "Staying here, Moony?" he asked.
"I'll be just outside," Remus promised, waving them on.
***
Breathless and exhilarated from the ride around the Gringotts vaults, they rejoined Remus just as he was finishing up a haggle with a shopkeeper outside a second-hand shop next to the bank. The tables out front of the shop were strewn with miscellaneous junk, but Sirius whistled low when Remus held up his find, a set of antique scales that were burnished with age and use.
"Bit of a treasure, this," he said, as the shopkeeper grudgingly wrapped it in brown paper and took his payment. "Thought you might like it for your scales, Harry. It's a bit nicer than the new rubbish they sell for students -- cheaply made stuff. Though if you're embarrassed to be using second-hand scales -- "
"No, I like them," Harry said easily, accepting the package from the shopkeeper and shoving it in his pack.
"When I was a boy I did all my school buying in the second-hand shops," Remus said, as they ambled up the street. "You'd be amazed what you'd find. There's a little street just below Madam Malkin's, Mardjinn Alley...but we'll buy all your robes and books and things new, of course," he added hastily, and Sirius noticed the tips of his ears turning red. Remus had never had much to spend on school things as a boy -- his last two years, Sirius hadn't had much himself, and he had fond memories of their gloriously adventurous shopping expedition in Mardjinn Alley while James and Peter went to Madam Malkin's and Flourish & Blotts.
They bought Harry's cauldron and telescope, potions supplies and dragonhide gloves, and Sirius and Harry took their new acquisitions to the Leaky Cauldron, where they rented the last available room for the night while Remus went into quiet paroxysms of joy over all the new releases in Flourish & Blotts. By the time they reached him, he'd arranged to have five or six of the most interesting delivered to their room, and gathered up all of Harry's necessary texts, plus a few extras he "thought Harry might enjoy." Harry, who had picked up a rampant bibliophilia from his guardians, added four more to the pile, including one on the myriad uses of snakes and snakeskin in charms, potions, and divination, while Sirius conferred with Remus on what he should buy himself and what he could nick from Remus' purchases. Sirius gave the delivery boy a pitying look when their order was finished, and tipped him a Galleon for his pains.
"We'll pick up your wand next," Sirius decided, while buying ice-cream cones, "and then we can go get your robes just in time to have tea with Andromeda," he added with a wink. He'd sent her a handful of cautious letters over the years, mailed well outside of Llangynog district (outside of Wales, for that matter) by Muggle post, but of course she couldn't write back. "Be good to see her again."
"And Dora and Neville and Ted," Harry added. "Reckon Neville's still living with them?"
"Don't see why he wouldn't be," Sirius agreed. They stopped outside of Ollivander's, and Sirius held the door.
"I've one or two private errands," he said. "You two behave. I'll meet you outside of Andromeda's shopfront when I'm finished, yeah?"
Remus gave him a quizzical look, but nodded and herded Harry inside.
Ollivander's hadn't changed much since Remus and Sirius had been first years; still the small empty space at the front, the rest of the room filled with row upon row of narrow boxes in shelves that stretched to the ceiling.
"Lupin, ironwood, twelve and a quarter inches, bit on the skinny side -- unicorn hair. An unusual wand for an unusual young man, eh?"
Harry flinched slightly at the sudden sound, but Remus smiled and touched his shoulder reassuringly as an elderly man stepped out from the rows, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Yes, Mr. Ollivander," he answered, calmly. "Given me good service, it has."
"Oh yes? Let's see how you've served it, then," Ollivander replied, holding out a dry, callused palm. Remus took his wand out of his pocket and laid it in the older man's hand. Ollivander appeared to weigh it, examined one end and then the other, slid his fingers along its length, and gave a satisfied grunt.
"Always said you'd be a man to take care of your wand," he said approvingly. "Could do with a bit of polish, but in the end that's just appearances."
"Thank you, sir," Remus replied, accepting his wand back again. Ollivander turned his strange, unblinking eyes on Harry, and Remus squeezed his shoulder.
"Ah yes...I thought I'd be seeing you soon," Ollivander said, stooping a little. "Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. She had a lovely wand for charm work -- ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand -- eleven inches, pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration." Ollivander gave Harry a not-very-reassuring smile. "Well, I say your father favoured it -- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." He leaned closer, fingers drifting towards Harry's forehead. "And that is where -- "
"We're interested in Harry's wand, today," Remus said quickly, and Ollivander glanced up at him almost reprovingly.
"Of course," he said, and withdrew slightly. "Mr. Potter. Let me see."
Harry held out his right hand and submitted to the fitting calmly, only looking a bit startled when the tape measure began taking measurements on its own as Ollivander withdrew into the stacks. He returned with a pile of boxes just as the tape measure finished, and set them on the counter in front of him. "Try this one to start. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Nice and flexible."
Harry glanced at Remus, who smiled encouragingly. "Go on then, Harry, give it a bit of a wave."
Harry reached for the wand and waved it around, but Ollivander immediately took it away from him.
"No, no, that's no good. Here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy."
Again, as soon as he lifted it, it was taken away again.
Ollivander laid out several more wands, but each was a failure, until the boxes began to pile up in front of them, and Ollivander began searching deeper and deeper in the shelves.
"A tricky customer, eh?" Ollivander said, while Harry looked disconsolate and Remus perplexed. "I have a few more, now..."
He set two down on the table. Harry tried the first one -- ten and a quarter inches, maple and unicorn hair -- to no avail, and was reaching for the second one when he paused.
"Not that one," he said. Ollivander looked at him curiously.
"Why not, Harry?" Remus asked. Harry glanced between the two men, then looked embarrassed.
"Er...Snake doesn't like that one," he mumbled. Ollivander looked up at Remus for an explanation, and Remus tilted his head at the sinuous body wrapped loosely around Harry's neck.
"His snake," he said.
Ollivander leaned forward, and Snake lifted his head to stare beadily at the pale, moonlike eyes.
"I'm a Parselmouth," Harry explained, only a little wearily. "I talk to snakes."
"Why doesn't he like this one, out of curiousity?" Ollivander inquired, taking the confession in stride.
"He says it smells like wicked," Harry replied. "It'd be like us smelling rotten meat," he added. Ollivander lifted the wand and examined it, then looked up sharply at Harry.
"Neither you nor your serpentine friend could know," he said slowly, "that this wand's wood is from the same tree that supplied the wood for Peter Pettigrew's."
Remus tensed. Harry's face went pale, and then his eyes hardened a little. Ollivander merely looked thoughtful.
"I wonder now -- " he muttered to himself, taking down another wand. "Ask your snake what he thinks of this."
Harry had a private conference with Snake, then turned to Ollivander. "He doesn't care about this one," he said, pointing to it. "Shall I try it?" he asked, and without waiting for Ollivander's answer -- Remus saw the man about to protest -- he picked it up.
A stream of red and gold sparks flew from the end, lighting up the room and making Snake duck his head quickly back under Harry's collar. Remus grinned.
"Holly and phoenix feather," Ollivander said slowly, when the sparks had died down. "Eleven inches. A very supple wand. Very...very curious," he added, as Harry studied his new wand. Snake poked his head out again tentatively, and then slithered down Harry's right arm to have a better look at it.
"Curious?" Remus asked, wary after the incident with the wood-brother to Peter's wand.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold," Ollivander said gravely. "And there was another wand...thirteen and a half inches. Yew. A very powerful wand, and in the wrong hands..." his unblinking eyes drifted to Harry's forehead. "The phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather -- just one other, to the yew wand which -- well, which gave you that," he said, indicating the lightning-bolt scar.
"Mr. Ollivander -- " Remus began, but Ollivander was still speaking.
"Curious indeed," he mused, "how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember...I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great."
"That's enough, I think," Remus murmured. "We'll pay for the wand, please."
"I could get another wand," Harry said, hearing the tension in his voice. Remus shook his head.
"The wand chooses the wizard," he said. "Even I know that. The wand, Mr. Ollivander, and two tins of polish, if you would."
Harry put the wand back in its case and held it anxiously as Remus took the tins provided and paid out of the rapidly-depleting sack of wizarding coins. When they were outside, Remus seemed to relax slightly.
"I'm not going to get in trouble, am I?" Harry asked.
"Of course not," Remus answered, giving him a reassuring smile. "It was just a bit startling, that's all. And er...I think you should probably keep it to yourself, Harry, the...origins of the wand. You don't mind, do you?"
"I don't care," Harry answered, stroking the case lovingly. "I like it. It feels..."
"...right," Remus answered, and Harry grinned at him. "I know. I remember buying mine."
***
Sirius was waiting patiently for them on the pavement when they finally pushed through the crowd; he waved, and Harry ran to meet him.
"Bought you a trunk for your school things while you were shopping -- got your wand?" he asked excitedly, and Harry opened the case, taking it out to show it to him. "Oh, that is splendid."
"Holly and phoenix feather," Harry announced. "And Mr. Ollivander had a look at Remus' too."
"Bought some polish," Remus said nonchalantly. "Otherwise all's well. Shall we?"
The door to Andromeda's shop was propped open to let in the warm summer breeze, and as they stepped over the threshold there was a moment of dizziness, quickly passing when the portkey had done its work. Inside was a large room, well lit, full of clothing racks and hatstands, with a glass case of strange jewelry on one side and a counter and till on the other.
"Good afternoon, and welcome to -- Sirius!"
Sirius found himself nearly bowled over by Andromeda, who threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly before stepping back to give Harry and then Remus the same treatment. "Don't you three look well! I was wondering when we'd see you in here," she added.
"It's good to see you," Sirius said, smiling warmly.
"And Harry!" Andromeda continued, while Harry blushed. "Look at you, all grown up. Starting Hogwarts this year?"
"Just got his wand," Remus said, indicating the slim case.
"It's a proud day, and no denying it," she said approvingly. "Come on, come and have a bit of a sit down, you're just in time for tea. Irene, mind the shop, would you?" she asked a plump, friendly-looking woman behind the till, who nodded and turned to assist a customer.
"Business seems to be doing well," Sirius observed as they made their way to the back of the shop.
"Oh, it's going really well -- I had to hire Irene when we expanded, just to help handle everything," Andromeda said. "Ted's been a dear, he does all the books -- Ted! Look who's here!" she called, as she led them through a door in one corner. Sirius vaguely recognised that they were passing from what once had been the enormous living room of Grimmauld Place into the former dining room, now fitted with shelves and a giant desk behind which Ted sat doing figures.
"Lupin, Black, and Potter," Ted grinned, standing and circling the desk to shake hands all round. "Good to see you lot again. Welcome back! Has it been two years already? My god, look at you, Harry."
"Grown, hasn't he?" Sirius said proudly. "Going off to Hogwarts tomorrow."
"Well done, lad," Ted said cheerfully.
"I'm taking them upstairs for some tea, love, are you busy?" Andromeda asked, and Ted shook his head, following them up the flight of stairs to the next floor.
Sirius blinked as they ascended; this floor had been bedrooms and bathrooms, opening onto a dim, somewhat poky landing -- but Andromeda's renovations had been vigorous here as well, and now there was a wide open space at the top of the stairs, full of windows through which sun streamed brightly. To their left, a series of doors still appeared to lead into bedrooms -- one of them, slightly open, revealed a mess similar to the appearance of Harry's, back at the River House.
"Don't mind the disarray, that's Nev's room," Andromeda said, leading them through the living room and into an elegant dining room beyond the doorways, fixed up with what Sirius recognised as the old dining room table, refinished and polished to a bright shine. Andromeda slipped around a low counter and into the kitchen, filling a teakettle and setting it on the counter along with a handful of cups. Ted took down a plate of shortbread as she brewed the tea, talking all the while.
"We went and bought Neville's school things yesterday -- Ted was that proud -- and he's hosting a couple of his friends tonight, since their parents had to go home. I think we're taking about five boys to the train tomorrow and picking up three more girls from the Leaky Cauldron on the way to the station."
"It's a nightmare," Ted said frankly, offering the plate to Harry, who took one and thanked him politely.
"Nymphadora's coming to help," Andromeda chided, adding cream and sugar to the tea-tray she was assembling. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Are you two staying the night?"
"Got a room at the Leaky Cauldron," Sirius said, as Andromeda set the tray on the table. Remus quietly moved his chair back a few inches, and Andromeda looked stricken.
"Oh -- Remus, I'd forgotten, I'm so sorry -- a silver tea service, how careless of me," she groaned.
"It's all right, really -- as long as the cups are china," Remus protested, while Andromeda moved the tray to the furthest possible point from him and poured from there. She added milk and sugar for Ted and herself, and glanced inquiringly at Sirius, who requested just a little milk.
"I did remember you take lemon," she said to Remus apologetically, passing him his cup with two slices of lemon in it.
"Really, Andromeda, it's all right," he reassured her, as Harry helped himself to a few spoonfuls of sugar. "You were saying, about Neville?"
"Oh, yes -- if you'd like us to take Harry to the train, one more at this point's no trouble," she said, with a smile for Harry.
"We'll take him," Sirius reassured her. "We've no need to leave anytime soon -- we're, er, we're moving up here, actually," he said. "Now that Harry's at Hogwarts, he's safe there, and Remus is itching to rejoin the Wizarding world..."
"I missed magic," Remus said calmly.
"All right, so did I," Sirius agreed. "We're thinking London, or possibly Newcastle -- closer to Harry."
"Well, there's close and there's close," Ted said, thoughtfully. "Really, if you can Apparate, the distance doesn't matter all that much. You'd be welcome here, you know, we just finished converting the attic -- there's only two bedrooms, but you...er...are moving up here...together, aren't you?" he asked delicately.
"We are," Remus replied, while Sirius blushed. "That would be ideal, really -- it's private, and close. We'd pay rent, of course."
"You'd have very understanding landlords," Andromeda said with a grin. Just then there was the sound of a small herd of elephants coming up the stairs, which turned out to be a small herd of eleven-year-olds: a tall, pale, fair-haired boy, a dark-skinned boy about the same height, a smaller sly-looking one, and a round-faced lad who could only be Neville, two years older than the last time they'd seen him.
"Are we late for tea?" Neville asked breathlessly, as the boys stopped uncertainly in the doorway. Andromeda waved them in and gave Sirius an amused grin as she went to brew more. They ranged themselves out around the table while Ted introduced them.
"This is Seamus Finnegan -- you remember Brenda, don't you? Her lad -- and Zacharias Smith and Blaise Zabini, there, and of course our Nev," Ted announced. "Lads, that's Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin, and this is Harry Potter."
"I remember you," Neville gave Harry a grin. "You gave me your pyjamas when I was in hospital."
"Cor, are you really Harry Potter?" Blaise asked, studying Harry interestedly.
"Let's see your scar then," Seamus said, equally as unsubtle.
"Manners, boys," Ted murmured, but Harry merely smiled and pushed his fringe off his forehead. Everyone looked suitably impressed as Andromeda passed around more tea.
"Did you get your wand yet?" Neville asked. Harry nodded, showing him the case. "Cool. Want to see mine? We all got them, they're in my room. You can come see my room after tea if you like."
"After tea Harry has to get his robes," Andromeda scolded. At Neville's disappointed look, she relented. "Why don't you lads take your tea and go play in Neville's room, we'll call you when we're done."
All five boys beamed and disappeared down the hallway, until their conversation was merely a commotion of incomprehensible childish voices.
"Bloomed a little, hasn't he?" Remus asked, and Andromeda put her face in her hands, laughing.
"Just you try shutting him up," Ted grinned. "Lately, anyway. He's talked about nothing but Hogwarts since he got his letter."
"Harry either," Sirius replied. "Bit of a weird feeling, really."
"Oh?" Andromeda asked. Sirius shrugged, and looked down at his tea.
"Well, I mean. Wasn't that long ago we were first years," he said.
"Nearly twenty years," Remus murmured with a smile.
"And, you know, here I am, having tea with other parents, talking about school clothes and the like..." Sirius waved a hand. "Makes me feel rather old, really."
"Wait till he leaves school, then you'll really feel old," Andromeda answered, sipping her tea. "It's good to see you again, both of you -- we've been worried about you, tucked away from the wizarding world, no real outside contact. I was very glad to get your letters, Sirius."
"We've done all right."
"Harry certainly seems happy and healthy," Ted observed.
"On the whole," Sirius agreed, "barring a broken leg and a couple of colds."
"Well, he's back where he belongs now," Andromeda said firmly. "And so are you."