Harry stood nervously shifting from foot to foot in the entrance hall as he waited for Susan to come down from the Hufflepuff dorms. Beside him both Neville and Ron were also doing a fine imitation of men waiting for their doom to be announced. It was only half an hour before the ball was due to start and the girls still hadn't exited the dorms as the boys waited, increasingly nervously as the start grew closer and closer.
"Remind me," Ron asked sarcastically, "Who thought that a Yule Ball would be a good idea?"
"Not to mention," Harry added, "Who came up with the idea that the Champions should have to open the ball with a dance?" The three boys shared a grimace,
"I pity you mate," Ron said, "At least if I muck up the dancing, I'll do it in a crowd, and the only person who'll notice is Lavender, and I doubt she'll care as long as I don't step on her feet. If you muck up in the first dance the whole hall will be watching." Harry threw a glare in his direction which meant shut up before I do something drastic. Ron obviously got the message for he didn't say anything further on the subject, instead turning the topic to the girls.
Discover moreAuthor resourcesWriting workshopsCrossover storiesApp download campaignsMobile fanfiction app"Why do they have to take so long to get ready?" he questioned, glancing upwards as if he expected some divine power to provide the answer, although surprisingly Neville spoke up, "I asked Hannah, and she said that people expect girls to look really good, if they don't people look down on them, so it takes a lot of time to get ready as they are trying to make sure everything is perfect."
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Ron and Harry were saved from coming up with a reply by the arrival of the girls. As they came down the stairs in small groups Harry heard Ron let out a low whistle, and he agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiment. Every girl it seemed had dressed up for the occasion and he had to admit that girls he had never previously looked at twice were pretty, even girls he had known since first year, in particular the Gryffindor Chasers showed him very clearly that they were definitely girls, and each in their own way had a type of beauty. Around him he noticed many of the boys had gone slack jawed, and many were blushing as they greeted their dates.
At that moment his attention was distracted as Susan walked down to join him, Hermione and Hannah with her. He had never seen any of his female friends dressed up before or ever really thought of them as beautiful, but now all he could see was how radiant they all were. He swallowed hard as they reached him, and beside him he heard both Ron and Neville doing the same thing. Just as he had been taught he extended his arm, "You look lovely Susan," he told her as she took his arm, her cheeks slightly pink, "You too Hermione, Hannah." The two girls smiled at him before heading off to find their respective dates.
Discover moreWriting forum accessMobile app subscriptionFan fiction platformFiction writing guidesFan fiction community"Champions we need you in position," McGonagall's voice rose of the din, "Everyone else could you please make your way into the Great Hall, the ball is about to start." There was a general mumbling then couples began to make their way through the double doors. As they moved into position, Susan tapped him on the arm, "Do you actually know how to dance Harry?" she asked quietly.
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"I think so," he whispered back, "Sirius has been teaching us a formal waltz, I don't think I'm very good but at least I won't step on your toes," he paused for a second then added, "I hope." She gave him a startled look then she started to laugh, prompting Hermione to glance over at them, raising her eyebrow in a silent query. Susan just shook her head, pulling herself back together just in time for McGonagall to usher them into the Hall for the opening dance.
Thankfully the dance went well and he managed to remember all the steps Sirius had drilled into him, and he hadn't stepped on Susan's toes even once. However it was still with a healthy dose of relief that he sat down at the Head Table with Susan, the rest of the Champions and the teachers for the meal. As he took his seat Sirius caught his eye and mouthed well done, then smiled gently at him. Harry managed to smile in return, the slight gesture relaxing him enough to banish the last remnants of his nerves.
Dumbledore raised his goblet and in his traditional batty style he opened the evening and announced the feast although Harry couldn't prevent the anger that welled up inside him when the man made eye contact. Sirius had explained what had happened the Halloween night of 1981, and Harry couldn't help but blame the man for what had happened, he had left him at the Dursleys, never checked up on him, hadn't bothered to get Sirius a trial, and hadn't bothered when Harry had found out the truth last summer. Looking at everything it was hard not to be bitter at the old man, and he knew Sirius felt the same.
A slight nudge in his ribs pulled his attention back to the present and he saw Susan looking at him in concern, "Are you alright?" she asked quietly "You spaced out for a few moments there." Harry managed to smile, albeit a bit unconvincingly,
"I'm fine," he told her, "I just got lost in my thoughts there for a second." She raised one eyebrow but didn't comment before swiftly changing the subject. Around them the conversation flowed freely, and Harry was able to leave the darker thoughts behind as he just concentrated on getting to know the other champions and having a good time. Although he had spent some time with Cedric practicing some of the spells, he had never really spoken to Fleur or Krum and he didn't actually know Cedric well either, although what he did know all pointed towards the boy being the epitome of what a Hufflepuff should be.
The time seemed to speed by and soon the meal was finished and everyone spilled out onto the dance floor as the Weird Sisters started to play, funky jazzy numbers that were completely different to the solemn formality of the earlier waltz. Harry too made his way down to the floor accompanied by Susan and they were joined by Hermione and Krum, as well as Ron, Lavender, Neville and Hannah. Ron seemed to be slightly star struck as they danced, but to his credit he wasn't staring openly and was trying to concentrate more on getting the steps right then the fact he was mere metres from the Quiddich star.
Discover morePeople & SocietyFamily LawChildren's BooksChild CareCreative writing coursesHarry was enjoying himself immensely as he danced, becoming more relaxed about it the longer he did so. It helped a lot that Susan wasn't berating him for his mistakes but rather was willing to keep a conversation going as they chatted almost aimlessly about a myriad of different subjects. About half an hour later the decision was taken unanimously that it was time for a break and the couples drifted apart, the girls heading for a table, laughing and chatting as they went, whilst Ron, Harry and Neville made a beeline for the drinks table.
Once they were all equipped with butterbeers they seated themselves at a table, watching the other couples still out on the dance floor, and occasionally commenting and laughing at the boys who were lucky (or perhaps not so) with their choice of date. Already they had noticed one shouting match, and enjoyed a good laugh at Fred and George, who had evidently decided 'normal' dancing was not really their forte, and true to form had decided to liven things up a bit with a variety of crazy routines, with the odd prank mixed in for good measure.
"Having fun there?" An amused voice came from behind them, and Harry turned to see the smiling face of his godfather, grey eyes sparkling as he took the last spare seat. "Yes," Harry replied, a slight note of surprise in his voice, "I hadn't expected that I'd enjoy it as much as I am, but sometimes it's nice to be wrong." He grinned at Sirius and his godfather chuckled, before reaching out to ruffle his hair. Harry ducked away, a flush creeping up his cheeks. As much as he loved the affection he was shown by his godfather, he was still a teenage boy and he did draw the line at gestures like that in public when he didn't need the reassurance.
Sirius just watched him, his eyes dancing with amusement. "You do realise," he said, when Harry was safely out of reach and had settled on glaring playfully at his godfather, "That it is my job to embarrass you, particularly in front of your friends. It is one of the requirements after all." Harry continued to glare, but he couldn't stop his lips from betraying him as they quirked upwards into a slight smile at the reminder of the adoption which was going to take place on Christmas Day, a week from the Yule Ball.
"Is there any particular reason you came over?" Harry asked when the next lull in the conversation came around, he was enjoying his godfather's presence but he was also aware that Sirius tried hard not to show favouritism within lessons, or when he was on duty, something he was thankful for as he didn't want to be singled out. However all the teachers were on duty tonight, so there was probably something wrong if Sirius had approached him so obviously.
His intuition was right as his godfather sighed, a slightly dark look clouding his eyes. "Minerva told me that Rita Skeeter has managed to procure an invitation and I don't trust her not to try anything, despite my warning. She has a reputation for being ruthless, and a nasty habit of spinning the facts to create a scandal. I hope my presence will dissuade her from trying anything with you, but I thought it would be better to put you on your guard just in case."
Harry grimaced and nodded his appreciation of the warning. It put a slight damper on the evening but he preferred to know and then be prepared than have something sprung on him when he wasn't expecting it.
"I think the girls want us to dance again," Neville suddenly said, and Harry glanced up to see that the girls had seemingly finished whatever they were doing and were heading towards their table with a definite air of purpose. He had to agree with Neville's assessment and he turned to his two friends, "Are you coming?" He asked, "Or should we wait until they come here and drag us up?" Ron shrugged but reluctantly began to climb to his feet,
"I think they'd be madder if they had to wait for us to get up," he commented, "And I've been on the sharp end of Hermione's tongue too often to look forward to that."
Harry grinned somewhat ruefully, "You and me both." He said as he smoothed his dress robes, relieved that he had managed to escape Mrs Weasley's idea of fashion. They had managed to get Ron's robes looking decent by dint of some judiciously applied cutting charms, a few permanent colour changing charms and quite a lot of help from an eager Dobby, although the elf refused to touch the clothes he was still extremely adept at fixing a seam and re-hemming a robe with magic, but it didn't stop Harry from being glad that he hadn't had to alter his own robes to make them even vaguely presentable.
Grinning at each other the three boys headed off to meet their partners once more and had soon rejoined the dance, although this time partners were swapped and there was a lot of laughter and friendly banter being exchanged as everyone eschewed the formal movements for a much more relaxed and easy style. Harry was enjoying himself immensely and thus was greatly irritated when he heard the soft clearing of a throat behind him and he saw the figure of Rita Skeeter, her blonde curls bouncing and an acid green quill poised in her fingertips.
"I don't want an interview," he ground out, glaring at her but she appeared completely unfazed.
"I'm sure you could give me a quick word, after all the readers are dying to hear personally from the famed Boy-Who-Lived." Harry's eyes went flat at the title. The thing he hated most about the Wizarding World, aside for the pureblood supremacy crap, and Voldemort was the title and fame they had seen fit to thrust upon him. Why couldn't they get it through their heads that he would far rather have had his parents than any sort of fame or recognition?
"Here is one word," he tossed out although his voice was icy, "Goodbye."
Her eyes hardened as he turned his back on her but Rita Skeeter was nothing if not determined and she quickly turned to the rest of the teens who had paused in their dancing to watch the confrontation. "I'm sure there is an equally unique position that you occupy, what it is like being a friend of the Boy-Who-Lived as he faces tasks beyond imagining in the Triwizard Tournament? What insights does your friendship allow you to gain into the life of the Boy-Who-Lived, or perhaps you could shed some light on the day to day life of our hero here?" She paused for breath, her eyes surveying the teens with a predatory gleam, her fingers twitching on her quill in anticipation.
Hermione was the first to speak, "There is nothing I wish to say to you Miss Skeeter," the mockery in her voice as she spoke the woman's name unmistakable, "Harry has expressed his wish for you to leave him alone and I for one am not going to go behind his back to talk about something he does not wish to share!"
"That goes for me too," That was from Ron and the cry was quickly echoed by the rest of the teens, as the group unconsciously tightened around Harry, presenting a united front to the vicious reporter. There was a flash of something in Skeeter's eyes, Harry couldn't quite identify it but the disappointment and anger pulsing around the woman was unmistakable and he realised that he had added another name to his list of enemies, and perhaps she was the one who, aside from Lucius Malfoy, wielded the most influence in the Wizarding World, particularly as most wizards were sheep who would believe anything as long as it was printed in the paper.
"I do not appear to see any of these children'sguardians here, nor do I see any written consent," The voice was unmistakable and so was the cold edge to it as Sirius Black strode up behind the blonde reporter, "Please correct me if I am wrong, but I believe you are trying to accost these children and interview them illegally."
Rita had frozen when Sirius had first spoken but now she half-turned, "Lord Black," she greeted stiffly, "I did not realise you would take offense at my actions, I am merely doing my job after all."
Sirius smiled, but the smile was all teeth and there was not a shred of warmth in it as he stared down at the unfortunate reporter, his eyes glinting and his voice deceptively mild. "I believe I made my opinions know the last time you tried to interview my godson. As I recall I told you to stay away from Harry unless you had my permission to interview him, something I know you do not have." He raised one eyebrow, daring her to contradict him.
Skeeter had backed off a little when he had first confronted her, the Black Lord's sudden presence taking her by surprise but now she had got over her shock she was rallying. "The Boy-Who-Lived is a public figure, entered into an international tournament," she shot back, "It is the public's right to know about him and such it is a requirement that I interview him!"
There were several gasps from the teens and several shot glances at Harry, trying to gauge his reaction and potentially do damage control if his temper got the best of him but they need not have worried. Harry was standing there with a rather feral grin on his face as he watched the confrontation, knowing that his godfather was far better suited to chewing her out than he was.
"Be that as it may," Sirius voice had gone soft now, but the danger that laced every word was unmistakable, "Harry is still a minor, and regardless of whom the wizarding world has made him out to be, he is still a child and more specifically, my child and nobody has the right to know anything about him, much less interview him. He is entitled to his privacy."
Maybe it was years of sticking her nose in business that was not her own and getting away with it, or the fact that nobody had ever managed to press charges against her that stuck, but Rita Skeeter seemed to miss all the warnings and danger signs as she ploughed on. "He lost all right to privacy when he voluntarily became famous!"
The temperature the hall dropped several degrees and Sirius's eyes turned black as he digested the last sentence, his ire forcing the woman to take several steps backwards. "Might I remind you why Harry became famous?" He said, his voice icy, "He became famous when he only a baby, when he had only started to speak a few months prior, he became famous because a psychopath who had just killed his parents failed to kill him." By now the entire hall was hanging on his every word.
"As much as he hates the fact, it is true he is famous but everyone seems to forget this was never something he chose, never something he wanted. He paid the ultimate price for that fame, he lost his parents, lost his family, buying thirteen years of peace in the process but somehow nearly every single one of you has the gall to think that he still owes you something!"
His voice rang out and there were many uneasy looks drifting between the students and even some of the adults in the hall were looking ashamed. They had all been so caught up in having a saviour, by the fact that Voldemort had been vanquished that they had forgotten that he was only a child and deserved to be protected, and he wasn't the person who ought to be doing the protecting.
Sirius's eyes were fixed on the reporter who was clutching her quill so hard that it had almost snapped. "My godson is not a political prop or a source of sales for your paper," He told her, his voice agate hard and the look in his eyes daring her to make one false move, "You come in here, demand things of him in one of the few places he should expect to be safe, things and information you have no right to and I will not stand for it." His gaze roved the packed hall, his eyes hard and unforgiving, "This is your last warning, leave my godson alone or face the consequences." Nobody could doubt the conviction and strength in his voice. Anyone who messed with Harry would have Sirius Black to deal with, gone were the days where the boy-who-lived had nobody to stand up for him and people could do and write what they liked about him. The message had been received loud and clear by everyone in the hall.
"I believe you have no more business here Miss Skeeter." The words were polite but the implied threat was enough to send the blonde reporter scurrying away. The Black Lord had won this encounter and if she didn't want to face retribution that would surely be coming her way she would have to lay low for a while, printing only information she knew to be the truth about Harry, and do her digging in a form she couldn't be connected to, and under a pen name that would leave her in the clear, but still for the moment she would lie low. There was nothing to be gained by bringing Black's wrath down on her head.
Sirius's eyes did not leave her until she had exited the hall but once he was sure she had gone he turned back to Harry, "Sorry about that pup, but some people need to be taught a lesson, particularly where it concerns your privacy." But Harry was already shaking his head,
"There's nothing to be sorry about," he said softly, "I'm glad you stood up for me," Unspoken were the words that nobody had ever done so before. "And," he added, his face turning a little impish, "It's better that you shouted at her rather than me, if I'd shouted I'd probably have ended up with detention!" Sirius's bark like laugh rang out across the hall and it broke the tension that had been building up ever since the confrontation had started and people began to return to their previous activities as a new song rang out into the hall, dispelling the silence almost instantly.
The rest of the ball passed without incident and it was a happy troop of teenagers that climbed wearily up to their dorms just after midnight, they could all say they had enjoyed the evening immensely and that they were certainly going to have a long lie-in the following morning.
Harry wandered back up to the school having just seen most of his friends off on the Hogwarts Express. The Yule Ball had been held the week before Christmas and the train had left at eleven the following morning so that all the students who wanted to could go back home for Christmas, the younger ones having gone the week before. The Beauxbatons and Durmstrang delegations had also headed homewards for three weeks and the castle which had seemed so full the previous term was all but empty in comparison.
Harry of course wasn't heading home because Sirius had to stay in the castle over the festive period, but he had still moved into his quarters for the remainder of the holidays. It wasn't home but he would be with Sirius and that was what really mattered. It was going to be a little lonely in Hogwarts without his friends, and that was also part of the reason he had moved to Sirius's quarters, being alone in the Gryffindor dorms would not have been a pleasant way to spend the holiday, whereas when he was in Sirius's quarters he would have his godfather with him.
He did have some homework to do over the break but the main project he was working on was the adoption potion. They had started to work on it the previous week, but it was the last week before they could use it that it was really intensive to brew. Between them Sirius and Harry were spending up to four hours a day just working on the potion and occasionally they had to get up in the middle of the night to tend to it, but neither had complained. For both of them the potion represented something far too precious to be treated lightly, their ability to become a real family, in the eyes of the law, magic and blood.
He smiled as he said the password and stepped through the portrait, although he had looked forward to Christmas after his first year at Hogwarts, still this would be the first Christmas he would be able to spend with someone who was his family, and needless to say he was eagerly anticipating every minute of it.
Sirius carefully poured the last ingredients into the potion, one vial of blood each from Harry and himself, stirred the potion seven times anticlockwise before the potion turned a deep shimmering red. He smiled, pleased, as he looked up to meet the excited eyes of his godson, the potion had just turned the correct colour, indicating it had been brewed correctly. Now all it needed was to simmer for two hours before they could bottle it ready for use.
There were only a few things that Sirius felt he had to explain to his godson before they took the potion the next day, he doubted anything he would say would change Harry's mind, but he felt Harry should know precisely what the potion would do to him, as it was slightly more than just making Harry his blood son.
He glanced over at the teen, and saw the boy was rather unenthusiastically poking a quill at the potions essay he had yet to finish as he waited until it was time for them to bottle the adoption potion. He cleared his throat and immediately Harry's eyes flickered up to meet his own, a question in their green depths.
"There are a couple of things I want to discuss with you about the potion pup." Harry tilted his head to the side slightly, betraying his confusion and curiosity even as his attention was firmly fixed on his godfather. In response to the silent question Sirius continued, "It isn't anything bad, it's just something you should be aware of. The potion will make you my blood son, but that also means some of the family traits will or could be passed down to you.
Harry's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?" he asked quietly. Sirius frowned slightly, wondering how much detail he would have to go into. From the lessons he had given Harry on Wizarding Culture over the summer he was aware that the teen knew very little about the world he had been born into, only really what he had had personal experience of, or what Sirius had taught him. Which meant of course that he would have to start from the very beginning.
"Do you have any idea why the purebloods think that they are superior to others pup?" Harry's face betrayed his surprise at the apparent change of subject but he still shook his head in response to the question.
"The answer lies in the old magic, many of the older families have special magical gifts or affinities that are inherited traits, you already know of some, Slytherin's is parseltongue, Gryffindor's is magical swordmanship and the Potter's have an affinity for defensive magic. A muggleborn cannot have an inherited gift which is why purebloods, some half bloods often believe they are superior." He saw Harry start to frame a question and he held up his hand, stopping the question from fully forming.
"That does not mean that a muggleborn witch or wizard can't have a gift which can become an inherited trait, although more often than not they have a latent gift that reaches its potential in their children, an example is my cousin Tonks, her dad is able to manipulate his appearance slightly, but Dora is a full metamorphus, and that trait will probably be passed onto her children." He paused for breath and Harry took the opportunity to edge in a question of his own,
"Why are you telling me this Sirius, it's interesting but I don't see what it has to do with the potion?"
"I'm getting to that Harry," Sirius told him softly, the smile on his face removing any sting the remark might have had, "The Black's also have a gift, in our case it is a strong affinity for ambient magic, what that basically means is that we have a measure of control over the surrounding magic in the air and the magic that is infused in everything, and if we concentrate hard enough we can force it to do our bidding, although usually it is linked to our emotions, for example when my anger goes past as certain level the magic in the air and the surroundings will respond."
"So it's a sort of wandless magic then?" Harry questioned and Sirius nodded immediately.
"Yes, albeit one that is a lot more temperamental, a lot more powerful and mainly linked to emotion and need," his voice and eyes turned pensive, "There was a reason many were so willing to believe I went over to Voldemort, this sort of magic is almost impossible to counter, but also a lot of my family have fuelled it using anger and hate. It frightens people pup,"
"It doesn't frighten me," Harry said stubbornly, the fire and determination in his eyes unmistakable, "It's just something you can do, and anyway I know you'd never hurt me!"
Sirius couldn't help himself, he reached out and pulled the teen into a half hug, one which was eagerly returned. They stayed like that for several moments before Sirius spoke again, "Thank you Harry, but the reason I'm telling you this is that the potion will not only make you my son, there is also a fairly good chance it will transfer the ability to you, particularly as I am Lord Black, and you are my only child."
Harry considered it for a moment, before smiling at his apprehensive godfather. "It doesn't matter to me Sirius, if I get the ability it will only serve to further prove that I am your son too, and it will help in the tasks or if I get in a bad situation again." His godfather let out a relieved breath, and for a moment it looked like he was about to say something further but he seemed to change his mind at the last minute, merely reaching out to ruffle Harry's hair as the teen turned back to his potions homework.
Any illusions that he would have a peaceful start to Christmas Day were dispelled at the (to his mind) unearthly hour of seven in the morning when a wet nose poked against his cheek and a furry body pounced onto the quilt. "Geroff Padfoot," Harry muttered, still half asleep and he heard a deep chuckle echo from above him.
"Time to wake up pup," the warm voice commanded and blinking blearily Harry forced the sleep from his eyes to come face to face with the blurry figure of his godfather. He sent a half hearted scowl at the animagus, but Sirius just chuckled once again and handed him his glasses. "The fire's already burning in the sitting room, all it needs now is a boy to come and investigate the presents that have been left under the tree. Do you have any idea where I might find one seeing as you don't seem to be interested." The teasing tone was evident in his godfather's voice but Harry's only response was a poorly aimed swat in Sirius's direction.
Still smiling at him Sirius stepped out of the way with ease, turning and catching hold of Harry's arm in the next second, pulling the boy to his feet and trapping him in his arms. Harry squirmed for a bit but quickly realising Sirius was much stronger than he was and that really he didn't mind being held by his godfather, he gave up, letting himself pout up at the animagus when Sirius still didn't release him. "You attacked me first," his godfather told him, his voice rich with amusement, "And I think it's only fair that I get a chance to retaliate."
The tickle attack that commenced took Harry by surprise, and before he knew it he was doubled over, trying in vain to protect his sides and his stomach from his godfather's merciless fingers. "Stop...Siri...please," he managed to gasp out between peals of laughter. His godfather paused for a moment considering and Harry took the opportunity to try and escape but he didn't get far before and large black dog collided with him from behind, knocking both of them to the floor.
Harry lay there winded as Padfoot transformed back into his godfather who looked down at him, his eyes sparkling with his amusement. "Ready to open your presents Harry?" He asked, reaching down to help the teen to his feet. Harry took the proffered hand, allowing Sirius to haul him to his feet, smiling despite himself. It was extremely hard to stay annoyed at his godfather.
The morning sped by as the presents were unwrapped and jokes and gifts were exchanged. Floo calls were sent across to the Burrow and to Remus with messages of thanks and well wishing, and generally the whole morning was spent in a mixture of joy and fun, but it was the beginning of the afternoon that Harry had really been looking forward to.
They'd cleared a large area in the sitting room, making sure everything important had temporally been removed to one of their rooms. The Blood Adoption was one of the older potions, and like many of the older and emotion based magics like the patronus charm, it could become fairly powerful, particularly if the emotions powering the adoption were strong and neither of them wanted anything to accidentally go wrong or interfere.
Soon everything was ready and Sirius went into his study, carefully taking the two vials from the store cupboard and carrying them through into the sitting room. Smiling gently at his godson he had only one last warning, "The potion is likely to create some odd effects, so don't be scared if anything strange happens pup. The potion is extremely powerful as it affects both your body and your magic so it will be more than a little disorientating." Harry nodded obediently but inside he was struggling to keep his excitement and joy contained.
Sirius seemed to read his godson's impatience as he handed Harry the vial, but that might have been because inside he was just as excited and nervous as his godson. "Ready pup?" He asked softly and at the answering nod he sent a tender smile in Harry's direction before he broke off the seal and swallowed the potion in a single gulp.
Harry fought the urge to gag as he swallowed the thick and strangely sweet liquid, but he managed to force it down, reminding himself severely why he was taking the concoction and the chance it was giving him. For several moments nothing happened and he sent a slightly panicked glance in his godfather's direction but Sirius merely shook his head indicating that the delay had been expected.
But just as Harry was beginning to fear that it hadn't worked a strange sensation started to rise through him, starting in his stomach and slowly spreading through his body. He could almost feel his magic rising up to his skin and infusing every single particle. Power pulsed through him, fizzing and tingling as it swept across his skin.
Then with the suddenness of a dam bursting the magic surged out through his skin, the shock leaving him breathless. Golden sparks of magic shimmering as they were suspended around his body, and a quick glance at Sirius revealed that his godfather was also surrounded with a similar cloud although the sparks surrounding him were sparkling silver.
Before Harry's incredulous eyes he saw the sparks surrounding him begin to move, twisting and dancing until they formed a rope of magic encircling him and then pulsing in front of him as it reached out, even as its base was firmly anchored above his heart. A similar rope reached out in front of Sirius, and with a bolt of magic the two connected, the silver twining around the gold and pulling it forward. The sudden tugging caught Harry by surprise and he stumbled as he was pulled forward, but it didn't matter, Sirius moved to meet him, his arms stretching out to catch Harry as he fell and pull him upright.
Harry relaxed as Sirius's strong arms enfolded him as he was nestled against the animagus's chest. Around them the sparks of magic danced, gold becoming intermingled with the silver as the sparks flew around them, even as Harry stood secure in the midst of the tempest, his pulse throbbing in time with the magic and his head resting on his godfather's chest as the magic swelled.
He didn't know how long he stood there wrapped in Sirius's embrace as the magic continued to swirl around them, power and joy filling him, but gradually the sparks mixed so that you could not see where silver met gold. With an identical suddenness to their initial release the magic suddenly snapped forward, plunging back into their bodies.
Harry gasped as he felt the magic race through him, suffusing every fibre of his being. There was still the same exhilaration that had accompanied the first rush but this time he could feel a slight difference in his magic, something had changed, something fairly fundamental and a thrill rushed through him as he realised he could feel the effect of Sirius's magic and how the adoption had changed him. A tingling sensation spread through him and before his eyes he saw silver and gold sparks skate over his skin, converging at certain points, and then scattering to continue their dance across his skin.
But slowly he noticed the number of sparks was diminishing, and gradually they sunk back into his skin, their brightness fading as more and more were absorbed back into his body. And then the last spark vanished and he slumped in Sirius's arms, suddenly aware of the strain the potion had put on him and his magic as he found himself trying to stave off sleep.
For his part, Sirius could also feel the fatigue settling in his bones, but he also knew that Harry had been much more affected than he had, not only was he younger and his magic less mature, the adoption would have a greater effect on him because he was being brought into Sirius's family, becoming the son, instead of the father.
Supporting most of Harry's weight Sirius managed to make it over to the sofa, sinking down into the cushions and gently pulling Harry down to join him. Harry went willingly, all but collapsing onto the sofa and then lazily burrowing into Sirius's side and resting his head on the animagus's shoulder. He smiled when he felt his godfather's, no his father's arms encircle him and pull him closer. Despite his exhaustion he couldn't suppress the joy that rose up in him at that thought. He had a father now, a father he could remember, and one that would protect him, care for him and most importantly Sirius loved him and he knew that whatever happened Sirius would always be his father and nobody could take that away from him.
He quickly found himself slipping into sleep, comfortable and safe in Sirius's arms and it was in that strange half state, when one is neither fully awake or asleep when a pale golden glow began to intrude under his closed eyelids. He groaned slightly in protest, turning his head so he could bury it against his father's chest, hiding from the light as he continued to fall into slumber.
He was all but asleep when he felt a gentle hand cup his cheek, soft fingertips stroking his face tenderly. Instinctively he leaned into the touch, nuzzling at the fingertips. A clear laugh sounded above him, but with his line between dreams and reality becoming increasingly blurred he didn't question why the voice wasn't Sirius's, why the hand still cupped around his cheek belonged to a woman.
"Sleep well little one," the voice of Lily Potter murmured, as she leant down to place a kiss on her child's forehead, "We love you so very much." Harry stirred, eyes half opening to gaze on the face of his mother and he smiled as her fingertips traced his face once more before she stepped back, a look of both joy and deep sorrow in her eyes. Beside her the form of James Potter, like her given form by the multitude of shimmering sparks, stepped forward and placed his own hand on his son's shoulder before he too kissed the forehead of the child he had never been able to raise, ghostly tears standing in his eyes.
Harry smiled again, his lips moving as if to speak, but his exhaustion defeated him and both of them watched, James placing a comforting arm around his wife's shoulders, as Harry's eyelids drooped as he gently slipped into slumber. Several moments passed in silence as the two Potters watched their son sleep, sad smiles on their face and tears pooling in their eyes.
The same mix of joy and sadness was also stirring in Sirius, joy at seeing his friend's faces once again, but also the pain of their loss cutting deep into his heart, as well as grief for the child nestled against his side, for the pain his parent's deaths had caused him. But unlike James and Lily, his grief was also shot through with a piercing guilt. Then James turned towards him, and he opened his mouth to speak, "James...I..." Words failed him. He didn't know what he could say that would mitigate his guilt, that could tell his friend, his brother, how much he regretted his actions, how much he had failed them all.
Swallowing hard he tried again, but he hadn't got more than the first syllable out before he was silenced by James's fist slamming into him. Caught by surprise, and realising that it was less than he deserved, Sirius said nothing as James pulled back. "That was for blaming yourself for our deaths."
Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. His mouth dropped open and he stared at the figure of his best friend in complete and utter shock. "What..." he managed to get out before he was cut off by his best friend's voice.
"It was not your fault," James said fiercely, "Blame Peter, blame Voldemort, heck even blame Dumbledore but get the idea that it was your fault out of your head this instant."
Sirius stared open mouthed, he had never expected to hear those words from James's mouth, most of the dreams he had had in Azkaban and even afterwards had shown him his friend blaming him, so he had never even considered the possibility that his friend might forgive him, might not blame him. Hope was rising in him, crushing some of the guilt that had been building in him ever since he had found their home in ruins but he still had to check, "You forgave me?"
James punched him again, although this was not as hard, "You're an idiot Padfoot," Sirius couldn't help the weak chuckle that escaped his lips, James had told him that so many times, always in the same half frustrated, half joking manner as he had now, before he turned serious again. "There wasn't anything to forgive."
Sirius smiled, the weight he had been carrying around for the past thirteen years lifting slightly at those words. James, Lily and Harry had forgiven him, now the only thing left was for him to forgive himself, something that would be easier with the knowledge his best friend didn't blame him for his death.
He felt Harry shift slightly and instantly his gaze flashed down to the teen who was tucked against his side, his head resting against his chest as he snuggled deeper into Sirius's embrace. He couldn't help but smile tenderly down at the boy, and tighten his arms to hold him just that bit more tightly. Harry was his son now and he couldn't suppress the joy that rose up in him at that thought. He had never thought that he would have children, and when Harry had been born he had instantly fallen in love with the infant, all but thinking of the baby as his own and that thinking had persisted to this day.
A slight sound interrupted his musings and he glanced up at the spectres of his friends, noting that Lily had moved to her husband's side and James had his arm around her, comforting her. Her eyes met his, and he was half tempted to look away, his thoughts from a moment ago ringing guiltily in his mind, how could he be rejoicing in having Harry as his own when his friends had lost so much?
For the second time in less than ten minutes he was once again shocked out of his thoughts by Lily's words, "Thank you Sirius."
He faced her with honest bewilderment, his tiredness not helping his mental facilities either. "For what Lily?" he asked quietly, his puzzlement obvious in his voice. She smiled at him, although he could see the sadness in her eyes, "For doing this for Harry, for looking after him, caring for him and loving him."
"You don't mind?" The question was cracked, incredulous but already James and Lily were shaking their heads.
"When we named you godfather, it meant you were the only person I could accept Harry viewing as a father if the worst happened," James told him, the lump in his throat obvious, "I'm glad you've done this Padfoot," he said quietly, before his gaze moved back to Harry, "Take care of him Sirius, and don't let him forget us." To choked up to speak Sirius simply nodded. There was nothing he could say and even if his voice was working properly he wasn't sure if there was anything he could say.
"He's a lucky kid," James said finally, his voice somewhat hoarse, "He's got three parents now." There was a hint of sadness in his eyes as he said it but then he smiled at Sirius, before his eyes drifted back to Harry, and together he and Lily reached out, phantom fingertips settling on Harry's forehead as their figures started to fade, golden sparks gradually losing definition as slowly the magic settled for the last time. Their spirits returning back to where they had come from.
Sirius watched until the last sparks had died, his eyes lingering on the spot his friends had vanished from. In his heart he knew that he would not see them again until he too eventually died but there was no denying that their visit had made him lighter, and decreased the burden of guilt he had bourn, both from his actions that Halloween, but also from taking James's place by adopting Harry. The joy rose up in him once again, this time untainted by guilt, Harry was his son now, and he had the blessing of Lily and James.
He didn't intend to go back on his promise to James either, he would never let Harry forget the parents who had died for him, but also he was not going to muck up being Harry's father either. He would protect, love and support the teen with everything he had and he swore to himself that he would not fail the child, his son again. He loved the boy too much to even contemplate doing that.
He shifted slightly, settling Harry a little more comfortably against him, wrapping his arms around the teen protectively once again, and brushing his own kiss onto his son's forehead, before he too gave up the fight against his fatigue and slipped into sleep.
It was dark outside when Harry finally stirred. He shifted somewhat awkwardly, wondering for a moment why he was tucked against a warm chest with Sirius's arms wrapped around him. In the next instant his memory flooded back and he couldn't stop the wide smile that broke out across his face as he remembered the adoption and the fact that the man holding him was now his father.
He shifted once again, he was slightly embarrassed about falling asleep on his father's lap, he was fourteen after all, but at the same time far too content and comfortable to consider moving very far. He felt the rumble of Sirius's laughter deep in his chest as the animagus realised Harry had woken, "Have a good nap pup?" He asked teasingly.
Harry flushed red and pulled himself up into a sitting position, but Sirius's arms prevented him from pulling away further so he had to settle for glaring half heartedly at the smiling face of his father. But Sirius just chuckled and reached out to ruffle his hair, Harry tried to duck and failed but despite his irritation as soon as Sirius pulled his hand back he burrowed back into the man's embrace, relishing in the knowledge that he was safe in his father's arms.
They sat like that for several more moments before Sirius pulled him gently to his feet. "Let's have a look at you pup," he said gruffly. "I doubt the potion has really changed your appearance much, your grandmother was a Black and James looked a lot like her, but I want to see what my son looks like."
Harry hopped off the sofa reasonably quickly; hiding the thrill that went through him with the fact Sirius had called him his son. He too was rather curious about what changes the potion had wrought in him, and he wondered what part of his new father he would have in him. Finding a mirror in one of the bedrooms he levitated it out into the sitting room before studying his face carefully, Sirius standing behind his shoulder.
His father had been right, there were very few changes in his appearance, but his hair had been tamed slightly, (it was still a wild mop, but it looked as if it might behave itself if he grew it out, instead of just looking hopeless) and his nose and jaw line had sharpened, giving his face a little more of the aristocratic tilt that Sirius possessed. The differences were not major, indeed, only somebody who knew him well or was actively looking for signs of an adoption would notice the change.
The major difference though was in his magic. Ever since he had woken up he had been aware of a slight presence, seemingly seeped into the very stones of the castle. It brushed against his skin, tingling slightly as it passed. He mentioned it to Sirius and his father's face immediately broke out into a relieved smile, although Harry could detect a few hints of nervousness in the expression.
"It's the ambient magic," he informed him, the smile fading as he continued to explain. "Every Black who has been able to manipulate it has been able to feel it against their skin in places like Hogwarts where it is much more concentrated due to the magical presence of so many witches and wizards. Eventually you'll stop noticing it but it means you inherited that particular trait and you have one more line of defence should you need it."
Harry didn't even need to think about it, he grinned up at his father, showing as plainly as he could that he welcomed the change and he was perfectly happy to have that particular magical talent, especially as he realised how it could help him. Sirius grinned back at him slinging an arm over his shoulders but then he fell into a slightly uncomfortable silence.
Harry glanced up, reading the discomfort and sadness clearly in his father's expression. "What is it?" he asked softly and Sirius glanced down at him, nervousness clear in his face. Sirius didn't answer for a moment, then the animagus let out a slow breath,
"Pup, do you remember what happened just as you were falling asleep, at the end of the adoption?" Harry frowned as he pondered the question for a moment, then his eyes went wide as the memory surfaced.
"My parents," he choked out, his voice rough, "They were there, they said they loved me." He looked up and saw a tender smile spread over Sirius's face although the animagus was unable to hide the pain in his eyes. But that was sidelined as Harry pulled the images up in his mind again; he actually had a memory of his parents now, and not one of them in pain, of his mother dying. He couldn't help but smile but suddenly realising Sirius had yet to say anything he glanced up at the animagus, seeing once again the traces of pain in his eyes.
A horrible thought struck him, "They didn't mind did they?" He asked hurriedly, being adopted by Sirius had been the best thing that had ever happened to him and he couldn't bear the thought that they might not have approved. Sirius looked at him in confusion for a moment before his expression smoothed out, "No Harry," he hurried to reassure him, "They didn't mind at all, James told me to make sure you knew they loved you, and they gave the adoption their blessing. It was just hard to see them and know that they can't come back."
There was a long pause before Harry spoke once more, "I used to wonder what it would be like to have parents," he said quietly, his eyes unfocussed as his mind strayed back to his memories, "And sometimes I hated them for leaving me, I thought I'd never know what having a family felt like." He paused again, but Sirius said nothing, somehow knowing that Harry had to speak and it wouldn't help if he interrupted.
Finally Harry looked up, "I think it helped this afternoon, I think I finally accepted completely that they won't come back. I thought it would hurt but it doesn't hurt as much as I expected." Emerald eyes met grey ones, "I've got you now,"
Sirius saw the teen suck in a deep breath, and the momentary flicker of indecision in Harry's eyes before he blurted out the final word,
"Dad."
Sirius didn't let the shock that one word created show on his face, instead concentrating on the joy the word inspired in him. More than anything it brought home to him that Harry was his son now, his son by blood. Impulsively he reached out and pulled the boy back into an embrace, one which was returned willingly.
The grumble of Harry's stomach reminded him they had managed to miss supper and he grinned down at the boy, trying and failing to suppress a chuckle. "Why don't you see if you can put some of the room back to rights whilst I head down to the kitchens to see if I can get us some food, alright pup?" Harry sent a glare in his direction but he was already moving towards the bedrooms, his wand up and casting as Sirius headed down to the kitchens.
An hour later, full and content Harry asked the question which had been bugging him ever since he had remembered seeing his parents, "Why did they come back Dad? I thought it was impossible."
Sirius sighed, putting his book down as he pondered the question, "I don't really know Harry," he answered honestly, "I can only suggest that the magic tied up in the ritual was enough to pull their spirits back for a brief moment, their forms were made up of the same sparks after all. I don't understand what happened but I do know that was really James and Lily, and that somehow the old magic worked in ways we would never have expected."
Harry nodded slowly, digesting the answer. He hadn't really expected his father to know what had really happened, and his theory seemed much more likely than anything he could come up with. He supposed he would never understand how magic worked. Yawning he clambered to his feet, it had been a long day, and even with the nap he had taken in the middle of it he was still bone tired.
"G'dnight Dad," he murmured as he headed off to bed.
He heard Sirius's "Goodnight son," follow him out, and as he slipped under the quilt he couldn't help but think that he had just had the best Christmas of his life.
Hi all, I know it is a week late, and my excuse, as I have already mention to a few people, was that I caught flu and that put me thoroughly behind schedule.