Friday 31st July 1987.
Silence reigned over the room. No one knew what to say to that.
James looked much like a fish as his mouth repeatedly opened and closed, but no sound came out. Lily simply looked shocked. And Harry didn't know enough to look anything more than confused.
Finally, Lily broke the silence. "Say that again."
"According to the papers, Master Black betrayed you all to him, then went after Mister Pettigrew to finish the job for his master. When he found him on a muggle street, Pettigrew accused him of betraying you both and Black blew him, and twelve nearby muggles, to bits by blowing up half the street. He was found by the Aurors laughing and occasionally muttering 'my fault'. They stunned him and took him in."
"Given that he wasn't our secret keeper, he can't have betrayed us. Surely that would have been revealed at his trial?" Lily asked the aged elf.
"There was no mention of a trial in the papers, mistress. Just a small section a few days later that he had been sent to Azkaban for his crimes. It happened the same day the Lestranges were sent there for their failed attack on the Longbottoms."
"Pops, why didn't you tell us about any of this?" James growled, looking angry.
"Master told Pops to read the papers and keep track of the news for word of young Master Potter. You were very clear that it was more important than anything, everything else was secondary. I thought I was following your instructions, master."
Again, the room fell to silence as they realised that could be taken as the word of their orders. And as a result, Sirius was locked up in the worst place they knew of and had been there for years.
"Dumbledore…" Lily growled.
"What now?" James replied, turning to look at his now livid wife.
"He witnessed the will. He knows Sirius is Harry's guardian. He could have pushed for a trial and it would have at least come out that Peter was the secret keeper, even if he killed the rodent. For people to believe otherwise, Sirius can't have been questioned at all."
"What can we do?" Harry asked quietly, reminding his parents of his presence.
"Leave it to us, Harry," James called, standing tall in his portrait. "Why don't you see if Hermione's parents are okay with you staying over again tonight?"
Harry looked between his parents before nodding and heading out the door.
"Now, Pops. Tell us everything. Leave nothing out."
ϟ
"So, let me get this all straight," James said, slumped in his chair, "Padfoot is thought to have betrayed us, then gone after Wormtail, our real secret keeper. He blasts the rat and a street full of innocent muggles to pieces and they throw him straight into Azkaban without so much as a question."
"So it appears, master."
"Then Moony, who apparently is not dead, learns of all this and refuses to return thinking there is nothing left to live for in Britain. You're sure he's still alive?"
"Indeed, master. We kept track of him as best we could for a while, in case you ordered us to bring him home. When we checked in last June, he was draining pubs all over the continent, well on his way to a decade-long bender."
"Sounds like fun." James quipped, as his wife's eyes narrowed. " I can't believe we thought he was dead. Anyway, most of the Death Eaters who weren't caught actually torturing someone managed to get off by claiming they were under the 'Imperius'." The elf nodded again.
"And now," James continued, "you inform us, nearly six years after the first occurrence, that Albus fucking Dumbledore has been trying on and off to either take ownership of the Potter estate outright or learn the identity of any of those listed in the will so he can take control of them for some unknown purpose. Information the Goblins freely gave you within a week of Harry arriving back in this house."
Pops looked thoroughly chastised at the summary. "Yes, Master James."
The anger was evident on James's face. Most of it was directed at himself for being so narrow with his orders as to let such a dire situation spiral beyond their control. It was only Harry's continued absence from the world that had kept him safe.
"I… can't. You deal with him."
With a twirl of his finely painted robes, James vanished from the portrait and began ranting as he stalked the halls of the Manor. Lily looked at the aged elf kindly. "Don't worry Pops. He's still getting over his death. He doesn't blame you. He blames himself."
"He is well within his rights to do so, mistress. I kept useful information from my master. Information that could harm the little one."
"Harry is fine. He's probably tucked under that tree reading some fantasy book with his best friend. A relationship you have been instrumental in protecting, my friend. How many times have you kept the Grangers from asking too many questions about James and I, and why we are never around our son? We trust you with our… well with Harry's life. And that is the dearest thing on this planet to either of us."
Soft tears rolled down Pops's face as he nodded his acknowledgement.
"How much longer do you think the goblins can stall Albus?"
"He long ago ran out of legitimate channels to pursue. Though, if anything, that may make him more dangerous. His remaining options would infringe on the 'magic given rights' of some very powerful and rich families, so are unlikely to get the support needed to succeed. I believe for the foreseeable future; young Harry's future is in safe hands. But it will not remain so if given sufficient motivation. Whiskers could be diabolical when pushed."
Lily suppressed a giggle at the elf's nickname for Albus. If he referred to McGonagall as Kitty again, she would lose it for sure. It had become near impossible not to imagine her straight-laced head of house bouncing around the castle chasing a ball of string.
"So, for now, we must keep our eyes and ears open and shore up our defences. Can you think of no way to prove Sirius's innocence? We cannot believe he would be responsible for the muggle deaths. Peter must have screwed up his own spell and blown apart the street catching himself in the blast."
"Short of the Rat confessing his crimes, I am at a loss, mistress. No proof was ever given as to his guilt, but the lack of investigation also gives no evidence of innocence either."
"Fat chance of that if the bastard managed to blow himself up. What I don't understand is why Albus is still so fixated on the estate. Surely, it's more trouble than it's worth at this point. Beyond money, what does he really stand to gain?"
"I am unsure, mistress. The goblins will not share the finer details of the estate with me without my master present. The entire account is locked down until claimed by the heir. If we weren't self-sufficient here, we'd have long ago run out of supplies and money for the caring of the young master. As it is, the money spent gathering the papers and magazines for news has nearly drained the local funds."
"Alright, Pops. Send off a letter to Remus. Sign it from the Potter Estate and request his return. Hopefully, he'll pull himself out of a bottle long enough to read it. If not, we'll deal with it later. And once you've done that, I want you to go to Gringotts, in person this time. We need to get them to see if there is any way to free Sirius. Harry is growing well, but he needs an adult in his life that he can actually touch. Understand?"
"At once, Miss Lily." Pops bowed low, his old floppy ears brushing the surface of the plush carpet before he popped away.
Lily sighed. This was going to be difficult. Resigning herself to that which she couldn't change, she stood up and went in search of her wayward husband.
ϟ
"For the last time, elf. I cannot authorise a meeting with Farkor without a message from your master. Tell him to get his lazy wizard arse in here and maybe we can do something for you."
Pops was growing angry at the belligerent teller he had managed to get. He had much to do and this hideous moron was standing in his way. While Pops was typically quite well-mannered with the other species, this fool was a particularly hideous example of the race. He was practically deformed, and the elf was left wondering why the goblins had him out dealing with the public.
"I have corresponded with Mister Farkor for many years now on behalf of my master. He is aware I hold discretionary powers and low-level access to the Estate and its overseer. As such I do not need the presence or command of my master to arrange a meeting with him. Even though it is their command."
The goblin stood higher behind its desk, looking down on the old house-elf below and made to continue his tirade when a tap on his shoulder distracted him. Looking back, he saw Manager Farkor glaring at him dangerously.
"I'll see my customer now, thank you, Teller." The hierarchy of the bank was very evident in the tone of their voice.
"Of… of course, Account Manager." The goblin squealed in fear as he resumed his seat and waved the elf through the gate.
"Apologies, some of our tellers are new. Still acclimatising to their roles. Perhaps a few extra shifts in the Deep might teach them better manners regarding our clients." Farkor stated as he very slowly walked Pops past the shuddering teller.
They quickly traversed the marble and onyx hallways, passing few others despite the busy hour of the day. Not many had cause to go further into the bank than the main floor. However, Estate business couldn't exactly be expected to take place in the open where just anyone could hear.
Turning at last into a large office, Pops took his seat in front of the desk and ignored the vicious accoutrements hanging from the walls. He was far too old to be threatened by goblin window-dressing.
"How may Gringotts assist the House of Potter today, my friend."
"My master has asked me to discuss two matters with you today, my good Farkor. A slight restoration of the Manor's funds is required. A few small matters need to be addressed in the building and it would not do for the ancestral home of their line to become… dilapidated in their absence."
Farkor smiled. They had been playing this tune for years now. He would imply that the elf knew where Harry Potter was, and the elf would divert and act unaware. Neither thought the other stupid or unworthy, just that to state matters aloud without express permission would be uncouth.
"And my master has decided something must be done about the travesty of injustice related to Sirius Black. Too long has this innocent man languished in the company of the foul Dementors."
This quickly removed Farkor's smile. Not for any judgment on Black. The goblins couldn't care less if a wizard found himself locked away unless it adversely impacted their own income. Nor did they care about their activities, as long as they did not attack the Nation itself. After all, they did a great deal of business with those 'acquitted' Death Eaters.
And as Arcturus still lived, his primary heir being a prisoner didn't affect their income in the slightest. No, what Farkor hated, what all goblins hated with a fiery passion, were Dementors.
They had long since driven the demons from their underground lairs, clearing more room for Gringotts and the Nation to grow. But when they found the humans had employed the monsters as guards… It had damned near started another rebellion. Many goblins had been killed horrifically, drained of their very souls, when they first encountered the Dementors while delving in the Deep. And the collective memory of the Nation was long and vengeful.
"Indeed." Farkor drawled. "I take it you have some evidence to provide that casts doubt on Mr Black's incarceration then?"
"I'm afraid while such does exist, it is impossible to bring it to light in the current climate. What with the Ministry making plays for greater control of the Bank, we cannot risk certain knowledge being placed in their reach."
Farkor could read between the lines. The one with the information couldn't come forward so long as Dumbledore was attacking the sealed Estate. The problem was finding a way to release funds to the elf without implying or showing activity on said frozen account. To do so would open new avenues for the hairy bastard to attack them.
"A true shame then. I take it you wish us to find some avenue to assess the legality of said imprisonment then? A loophole that frees the individual from the need to come forward?"
"Such would be appreciated by my master. And would be greatly rewarded should such efforts bear fruit."
"Indeed." Farkor thought carefully. They had access to the records, but to go digging now could also give the old goat means by which to challenge the bank. They would need a clean third party who could act without drawing suspicion on the bank directly.
"A troublesome pair of plights we find ourselves embroiled in, my friend. Give me a few days to assess the issues and see what method Gringotts can bring to bear."
"As ever, Farkor, it is a pleasure to speak with you." Without waiting for the response, Pops vanished.
Farkor sighed, he had mentioned to management a few times about the house-elves' ability to pop in and out of the bank unchecked. To date, all they had done was ward the vaults against this ability, they assumed at least.
Someday, he had a feeling, they may regret that hole in their security.
ϟ
Saturday 19th September 1988.
Hermione hadn't had the best childhood before she began schooling. While her parents loved her deeply, they never fully understood her growing up. A daughter not quite interested in sports enough for her father, and a bit too bookish even for her nerdy mother.
She had been teased harshly by other children ever since she first went to places where they gathered in large groups, be it parks or pre-school. One-on-one they were alright, but whenever multiple children came together, the jibes would begin.
As such, she had developed a shell that had taken years for Harry to truly penetrate. Now she couldn't imagine life without him in it. Yet today she felt a little of that old fear creeping back in, even though he was still his normal effervescent self around her.
He had given her the customary morning hug when he arrived, escorted by the tall man he only ever referred to as Pops. They studied the morning away, finishing the last of their outstanding homework from the week. And now they were ensconced under the favoured tree reading the oddity that was the Boy-Who-Lived book.
Everything was as normal a day as had ever been between them. Except for two small things.
The first was the odd look Harry had been giving her out of the corner of his eye all morning. A look that said he was deeply debating something and that he wasn't yet ready to share it with her. She was more than patient enough to wait on this normally and would have let it go had it not been for the second point.
Today was Saturday. Specifically, Saturday the 19th. Of September.
Her ninth birthday and Harry had not even said happy birthday to her. And that was what had some of her old fears resurfacing. Was Harry thinking about ending their friendship? Every other birthday they had shared it had been the first thing out of either's mouth. Yet today he was too busy thinking his puzzle over to even notice.
Nor had he noticed she had just reread the same page to him for the fifth time.
"Harry?"
He glanced at her once more from the corner of his eyes, the puzzling look still evident within but he showed no sign of having noticed her comment. In fact, she was sure the glimpse had been independent of her question.
"Harry!"
This time he gave a barely audible hmmm and turned his ear to listen better.
Beginning to anger, Hermione set the book in her lap, licked her finger and poked it into his ear canal. "HARRY!"
"Argh, what?" He jumped at both the wet willy and the volume of her shout.
"You've been ignoring me for at least the last twenty minutes." She huffed.
"No, no I haven't." He flashed her his best 'innocent' grin, trying to distract her.
"I read you the same page of this book five times and you didn't even notice."
"Of course, I did, I thought you were being funny."
"Then tell me what the page is about." Hermione tucked the book under her loose shirt to prevent him from seeing where in the text they were.
"Er, what…"
Hermione nodded. She was not going to make things easy on him if he wanted out. Her armour was reforming as they spoke, and she would not let it show how much the idea hurt her.
"Wanna get out of here?" Harry asked suddenly, the puzzled look leaving his eyes for the first time that day. Whatever he had been thinking on, he had finally settled his internal debate.
"My parents aren't going to be home for hours, Harry. They trust us to stay home without messing the house up, but we can't just go anywhere we like. Unless you want to go to the park?" She asked, pointing past the flats at the end of the close, in the direction of the large open space that was Southgate Park.
They were allowed to go there and back unsupervised as that was the path that Hermione always took to get to and from school. Often meeting Harry at the edge of Hawth Woods along the way. And there were several facilities around the park with other adults that the Grangers knew quite well who would always keep an eye out for the children.
As long as they stayed clear of the big roads and the railways, and the shiny new theatre that had just been built at the far end of the woods, they were allowed to explore the entire block freely. So long as they left a note before going to play. Not that they ever really made use of that freedom. Preferring to play or read together in the backyard.
"No, I know the rules. And I'll have you back on time. They'll never know. But it's somewhere special. Somewhere for just you and me. Something I have to show you."
The grin was back and this time she was sure it wasn't a distraction. Harry was up to something. That was definitely his up-to-something face. He held his hand out to her, standing as he did. The early afternoon sun tickled his skin as the leaves of the trees cast shifting shadows across his body.
"Please?" He begged, his eyes pleading with her.
"Fine. But it better be good."
As she stood beside him, he took both her hands tightly in his own. "Ready?"
"For what?" She asked curiously when he did not release her hands. They needed to leave a note…
With a pop, her thought was derailed completely as the garden was replaced by a momentary feeling of displacement before her brain reconnected with the fact that her surroundings had changed. There was no other indication of movement. One moment she was in her own backyard, the next in the biggest library she'd ever seen, staring at towering rows of books as far as the eye could see.
"Happy birthday, Hermione." Harry's grin broadened as he watched her take in the massive room of books.
When finally, her wits returned she looked back at her friend and wrapped him in the tightest hug she'd ever given. Before jumping clean out of her skin at a shout right behind her.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?"
Hermione spun to see a fuming woman towering over her. Her red hair was whipping wildly about her face and her eyes, Harry's green eyes, were glowing! As Hermione watched a man joined her, passing what must have been the edge of the doorway as he appeared from nowhere. He looked a lot like an older version of Harry, except for the eyes, which were brown and tucked behind glasses. He took in the scene in front of him and collapsed on the chair behind him with poorly suppressed laughter.
"WELL!" The woman screamed again.
"Nice first impression mum," Harry muttered. "Hermione Jane Granger, meet Lily Jasmine Potter. My mum. And that quivering lump in the corner is my dad, James Charlus Potter," Harry introduced the pair.
Hermione gave a slight curtsey that finally allowed the now entirely unsupported Boy-Who-Lived book to tumble free of her shirt with a thump. She squeezed Harry's hand tighter as she looked up at the woman still fuming above her before she spoke. "Pleasure."
"It's lovely to meet you too dear," Lily replied, the anger on her face almost clearing for a moment before she turned back to Harry. "You, mister. Are grounded. A whole bloody year this time. How could you be so stupid?"
"Mum, you're ruining her birthday present."
"Oh boy, abort son. Abort!" James giggled, hiding behind the chair.
"Shut up, you moron. Explain yourself now!" Lily growled.
"She's my friend," Harry replied as though that explained things entirely. He stood resolute under the withering gaze of the still clearly livid woman.
"If it's a bother, I'll just go, Mrs Potter."
"Stay right there, young lady. You can't go anywhere yet."
"MUM!" Harry warned, making Hermione gasp as he pulled her behind him.
"Don't you 'Mum' me little man. Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"Yes!" He snapped back ferociously, drawing Lily up short.
"You did this on purpose?" She asked, flabbergasted. Finally seeming to understand something that was still unclear to Hermione.
"I gave it a lot of thought. All of it. Every. Bit."
"You're definitely grounded. Go to your room and we'll discuss it later. Pops!"
"Yes, mistress?"
"I need you to take Miss Granger home and wipe her memory of this place."
Harry remained resolutely in front of Hermione as the odd creature that had suddenly appeared seemed to sway uncertainly from one foot to the other.
"What is it, Pops? Out with it now." Lily demanded.
"Elf's don't have memory magic, mistress. It's why we're so good at not being seen."
Pops bowed his head and looked as though Christmas had been cancelled. Hermione couldn't help herself as she stepped around Harry and hugged the small creature. She had no idea what it was, beyond apparently being an elf. But it was upset because she was here. The least she could do was offer it some comfort.
"Well that's hardly your fault is it Pops?" She said as the shocked elf stared at her in disbelief.
Harry just laughed at the look on the old elf's face. And she glared at him for having instigated the event that led to him feeling so adrift.
"You don't… then, how do we? James?" Lily asked, looking even more unsettled than Pops.
James just stood behind his chair and shrugged his shoulders.
"You can't." Harry stepped forward, once more placing himself between his parents and Hermione. "Unless you plan to call the Obliviators. Now, I'm off to show my best friend the rest of the house."
He stepped over to her again and held out his hand. Hermione was a whirlwind of thought and emotion. She was still in the most impressive library she'd ever even heard of. Was currently hugging something she'd never even heard of before, and Harry was acting like there was nothing his parents could do to stop him, despite them standing right behind him.
He simply grinned at her as she released the, she believed, elf. And took his hand again, glancing uncertainly at Lily as she huffed at her son. He winked at his parents and led her out the door she hadn't noticed to their left and into the hallway. As they walked away, she couldn't help but glance back at the Potters and noticed the perspective of their doorway seemed off but she was unable to fully assess it before they were out in the hall.
"Sorry, Hermione. Mum is usually really nice. It's not you, trust me, she is going to love you once she gets to know you."
Hermione's mind continued to whirl as she followed Harry in a daze. "What do you mean? Why is that?"
"She's really smart, too. She adored books growing up, just like you do. She's half the reason the library is so big. Although, the Potters have always had a lot of books. She's mad at me right now, but she'll calm down once she thinks it all through."
Silence reigned for several moments as her brain attempted to process everything she'd seen since the garden. She still had no idea how they were even here. Was she hallucinating? Maybe she'd just fallen asleep in the garden and this was all a weird dream. She pinched her arm just as Harry stopped them beside a tall door.
"Ow." She yelped, rubbing the spot where she had pinched.
"What'd you do that for?" Harry looked at her oddly, rubbing the spot for her too.
"Dream," Hermione mumbled. "Trying to wake up."
Harry laughed gently and took her hand again.
"Seems I've seen yours, and it is so cute by the way, I thought we'd start here."
He kicked the slightly ajar door wide open and led her inside. She found herself in a large bedroom with a huge bed taking up most of the left wall. Directly opposite the door was a floor-to-ceiling window that showed a beautiful garden stretching out from the house and disappearing into the distance. Six tall metal poles, in two groups of three, rose out of it in the middle distance.
The other wall had a large fireplace flanked by two huge bookshelves and above the fire was a large still-life portrait with bowls of fruit beside a pair of comfortable recliners.
"My room," Harry said proudly.
Hermione stepped inside and wandered to the window. The view was sublime, and the weather looked heavenly. Colourful flowers of every variety stretched away from her and she could now see that the garden ended quite a way out, but long before the odd poles that seemed to rise from some low seating.
Tearing herself from the view, she turned to the bookshelves and began perusing them. Many books had no titles but looked to be bound in ancient leather covers. She grinned to herself as she saw that pride of place had been given to the books she had gifted to Harry over the years. With the empty space obviously belonging to the book now lying in the massive library.
Looking back over at her friend she saw he had kicked his shoes off and was lounging back on the bed watching her explore. His smile vanished, and Hermione spun to the door as the same voice from before piped up loudly.
"Don't think you've gotten out of discussing this, young man."
Hermione was confused. The voice was clearly originating from inside the room, but she couldn't see Mrs Potter anywhere. Turning to Harry she saw him scowling at the painting above the fireplace, and she stepped back to better see what he was looking at.
A soft eep left her mouth as she saw Lily Potter standing inside the still-life painting glaring at her son. Her head began to swivel back and forth as both pairs of green eyes locked on one another, refusing to blink.
Harry's mother was a painting? Hermione was still so confused by everything else that had happened today she figured she must have finally snapped. What was going on?
"Well!?" Lily called, drawing her attention again.
Harry glared at the painting and waved his hand before collapsing back onto the sheets and staring up at the ceiling. Hermione watched as Lily continued to yell at Harry, but now no sound came out. Her hair was whipping about even more violently than before, yet no sound was audible. Hermione crept forward until she could stand on her tiptoes and peered at the bottom edge of the painting.
She ran her fingers along it and it felt like any other painting she'd ever seen. But she felt as Lily's feet passed her fingers, as though there was a slight bowing outward where she existed in the paint. So, not a screen of some kind. It's really paint.
"Um, Harry?" Hermione asked, turning from the angry woman. "What's going on?"
"Don't worry, she's just angry because I technically broke the Statute." He said with a roll of his eyes. "But I don't care. I thought it over and your friendship is worth it. And I knew you were getting suspicious with me never inviting you round. I just couldn't keep this all from you anymore."
"And Pops?"
"Yeah, that's him. He can make himself look human."
"So, he isn't then?"
"Not human? No, he's a house-elf. They've raised me since I was fifteen months old. Since the night my parents were killed." Harry's face darkened at the thought and Hermione was quickly on the bed hugging him tightly.
"Thank you, Harry. I know you are in trouble because of me, but this is the best birthday present I've ever had."
"I'm in trouble because I chose to be. Not because of you." Harry said, smiling at her brightly. "And I would do it again. Because being your friend is worth any amount of trouble."
Neither noticed as Lily stormed from the portrait.
ϟ
"He silenced me!"
"He what?" James asked as Lily stormed into the family portrait.
"Silenced me. With a wave of his hand." She slumped into a chair as she demonstrated with a lazy wave. "I think we're in trouble."
James moved over to hug his wife as Charlus piped in. "Why's that?"
"He's testing us. And he knows we really have no way to discipline him. HE brought her here. Didn't get one of the elves to do it for him. Just popped into the library with her right in front of me."
The others began to chatter as the full extent of what she was saying began to sink in.
"We can't ground him. Unless he cooperates, we can't contain him. And now he knows it. And that wasn't a normal silencing charm. That was elf magic. It's coming to him naturally now. I doubt he knows he cast it. He just wanted me to be quiet. Probably so busy hugging he hasn't even noticed I've left." James chuckled beside her. "Don't you laugh. This is your influence. He used to be such a well-behaved boy."
"Wasn't me, dear. I may not be the best role model in the world, but it was your actions that started this."
Lily glared at him and James knew he had moments to head off the explosion.
"School dear! Sending him to that school was your idea, love. Remember? 'Get him real friends'. Well, he has them now, or one at least. And like a true Marauder, like the both of us in fact, he'll move Gringotts itself to please them. He'll be more loyal than any badger.
"You better hope that girl can exercise some control over him because we sure can't anymore. This was supposed to be Padfoot's job. He still wouldn't have been able to control him, and probably would have joined in half the time, but he'd be there. In-person. To fix anything."
"It's been over a year since Pops first approached the goblins," Dorea noted, "and they've yet to find anything that could help free your friend, dear. I doubt that will change anytime soon."
"And your other friend practically ignored the letter that Pops sent," Charlus added. "Got so morose that he managed to give even the elves the slip."
"Remus," Lily whispered, considering the elder Potter's comment. The elves had tracked the man once before.
"Say what Lils?" James asked.
"We need Remus. Pops is great, but Harry needs a proper adult. Someone he can't push around. Remus kept you lot under control as a prefect, mostly. He's the one we need."
"True, but as Dad just pointed out, he's somewhere off in Europe trying to drink himself into an early grave. I figured he'd be happy to hear from us."
"But he didn't hear from you," Lily explained, suddenly realising why their former friend might have run for the hills upon reading that letter. "He heard from his dead friend's estate. He believes he has nothing to live for here in England. We both know he'd refuse any amount of money you wanted to give him.
"However, if we can get him back here, he'll live for Harry. And maybe he can do something to help free Sirius. Then Harry can finally have a real family again."
The other Potters all nodded and for the first time in ages they were all in agreement on a course of action. James in particular seemed to embrace the idea. The smile on his face was reminiscent of happier times and usually accompanied some form of prank.
"Tybalt."
"Yes, master?" The elf asked, appearing in the room beside the book the girl had dropped earlier. The one that had spurred all of this into action.
"Need you to do something big for us, buddy," James said, giving Tybalt a wide smile. "Our friend Remus Lupin. Track him down again for us and give him a message from me." James added particular emphasis on himself. "In person this time."
James paused to consider the message for a moment before he spoke again. "Tell him that 'Moony needs to pull his head out of his arse and get back to England. Prongs wants a word with him about Padfoot and the fawn.' Tell him that, those exact words, and we'll see how he reacts. Take your time, do it right. If you need help, ask us. But under no circumstances are you to tell Harry. Understood?"
"Yes, Master James."
"Always thought those nicknames of yours were ridiculous, lad." Charlus chided as Tybalt popped away. "Glad to see them finally being useful."
ϟ
Harry shuffled into the family room quietly, hoping not to draw attention.
While today had been fantastic, showing Hermione his home and chatting away, it couldn't last. He took her home before the Grangers were due back from their unplanned weekend work and after a short party with her family, returned to face the music.
He knew what he did was wrong. The Grangers were muggles, they weren't allowed to know about magic. But he also knew there was no one who knew about him that could perform the memory charm. Now she knew and there was no way to reverse it without involving the Ministry.
Harry was proud of his actions. He had felt horrid hiding a portion of his life from Hermione when she was so completely open with her own. She had no secrets from him, and yet he was keeping a huge one from her.
He still wasn't being completely honest with her. She'd implied that the elves were the magic ones and that everything was their doing, and he chose not to correct her.
It was still a lie, but enough of the truth that he could live with it for now. Given the odds of him attending Hogwarts, or some other magical school, in four short years, he wanted to make the most of all the time he could get with his friend before life took her away.
He fronted up to the enormous picture containing every member of his Potter family. Most were sleeping or at least pretending to do so. Except for two. James, who was clearly trying to suppress a laugh. And Lily, who was watching him closely with unreadable eyes.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled.
"Missed that, Harry. Please speak up." James called, quietly enough to not wake the family.
"I'm sorry." He repeated, louder. "I know it was wrong, but I couldn't lie to her anymore. She deserves better than that Mum."
He locked eyes with Lily and another staring contest began. James interrupted before it could go too long.
"Enough you two. Harry's sorry. The kneazle is out of the bag, and unless we want the world to know he's alive, it's going to stay out. How much did you show her?"
"Not much. We just walked around the house and talked. She guessed the elves are magic and I let her think they were responsible for everything. She has no idea I'm a wizard. But she is still confused about the both of you. Doesn't understand how my parents can be in a painting. She thinks you were tricked or cursed or something now she knows magic is possible." He finished with a smirk. "Bet you anything tomorrow she's at the library trying to look up painting curses."
"See Lils. Not a total catastrophe."
"Harry, do you realise how serious this is?" Lily asked, ignoring her husband. "You exposed our world to muggles. Just because the Ministry doesn't know does not make it ok. I lived in that world once, I know how muggles react to magic."
There was a pained look on her face and Harry knew she was thinking of his aunt and her horrid husband. They had said very hurtful things to his mother and refused to attend their wedding. She had also told him about people's reactions to her accidental magic when she was in primary school. His mum took the divide between their worlds very seriously on some matters.
"Hermione is not Aunt Petunia. She won't tell a soul. Not even her parents."
"Intent isn't important here, Harry. You intentionally broke the law. An international law. You could end up in the cell right next to Sirius for this."
"Only if the Ministry finds out. I'm not going to tell them. Are you?" Harry retorted defiantly.
James grasped his wife's shoulder hard, derailing her response and drawing her ire, but his look kept her quiet.
"As we discussed Lils, this is partially your own fault." He said, a soft look adorning his face as he spoke to her. Before he turned and sent a far sharper look at his giggling son. "Yours too Harry, don't get cocky. What's done is done. Harry will do as he is told from now on, won't you?"
Harry nodded and became bashful again.
"He has definitely inherited your temper, my love. He may look a lot like me, but underneath he is all you. You are grounded for the week. Straight here after school. No detours. And no library. In fact, no books of any kind except for schoolwork. And all day tomorrow we are going to go over the Statute from top to bottom."
Harry groaned. Revision bored him stupid. His memory was such that he could recall almost anything he had ever heard, seen or read. So, reading and listening to Reginald drone on about things he already knew was a sure way to a bored Harry.
"Take it as punishment. If it doesn't seem to sink in, you'll be doing a whole lot more revising, and might find yourself grounded a lot longer than a week."
"Yes, Dad. Sorry, Mum."
Harry walked over to the painting and on his tiptoes, pressed his lips to his mother's cheek.
"Good night." And with a turn, he was gone.