Shortly after Christmas, Harry received a reply from Susan that had him roaring with laughter in the privacy of his bedroom. Apparently, Umbridge had been furious to find Harry and the four Weasleys had fled the school in the middle of the night, but according the the rumour mill — AKA something Parvati heard from one of Ginny's dorm-mates — the High Inquisitor had been told that Harry had ingested some sort of hallucinogenic, and the Weasley children had been called out of bed to check it was not of their doing, accidentally or otherwise. Since the twins were well-known for their prank substances, and Ginny was equally well-known for being happy to accompany them, it was a fairly solid alibi.
That it coincided with Mr Weasley's attack was just a funny happenstance of timing, everyone maintained. And those who suspected otherwise knew better than to ask for details.
But the part of the letter that really had him laughing was Umbridge's newest Educational Decree, implemented on the last day of term. It was now against the rules for any student tutoring to take place without approval of the High Inquisitor. She was clearly looking to catch anyone learning defensive magic unsupervised now that Harry was out of the castle, but according to Susan — whose letter had been sent via the post office in Hogsmeade, to avoid detection — Umbridge had spent the entire Christmas break being constantly hounded by students wanting permission to help their friends with their homework, or teach them a basic household charm, claiming that they weren't sure what the definition of 'student tutoring' entailed and they didn't want to get in trouble.
It seemed to be making Umbridge absolutely regret putting such measures in place, and Harry couldn't wait to see how the situation escalated once everyone was back at school.
He'd had a letter from Draco, too, passed through Snape and Remus. He was doing well, if bored, and he missed Harry. Harry spent longer than he would care to admit trailing his fingers over the neat 'Love, Draco' at the end of the letter.
He hated that he hadn't got to say a proper goodbye to his boyfriend. Or any of his friends, really. Or Salazar; the portrait was probably worried about him, considering what Harry had told him of his life. He would have to apologise for the abrupt departure when he got back.
It was only a week or so away, now. The Christmas holidays had flown by.
It was strange, he thought to himself, reading through the Ancient Runes worksheet Remus had given him — he was simultaneously eager to get back to school, and absolutely dreading having to face Umbridge again. He hadn't realised how suffocating her very presence was until he was free of it.
His door opened, and Sirius snuck in, pressing a finger to his lips. "I need you to come with me," he said. "The twins are covering for us, we've got about three hours."
"Three hours for what?" Harry asked, confused. His godfather grinned at him.
"To go home."
Harry's breath caught in his throat, and then Sirius had grabbed him by the hand, and he was being squeezed by the familiar sensation of side-along apparition.
They appeared on the snow-covered lawn of Seren Du, and Harry grinned so wide his cheeks hurt.
"Sirius!" he exclaimed happily. "What if we get found out?"
"I told you, the twins have us covered. They didn't ask questions." The animagus smirked. "Marauder privilege."
Harry laughed; of course Fred and George would bend over backwards to help their idol in mischief-making.
"Brilliant. Why today? Or did you just want someone to throw your toy for you," he teased. A bark of laughter escaped Sirius' lips.
"Maybe later, if there's time. We're actually waiting on someone."
Harry paused — he wouldn't sound so nervous if it was just Remus or Snape. Perhaps… Narcissa, maybe?
A crack of apparition sounded, and Harry turned to look. It was not Narcissa Malfoy, though the resemblance was certainly there. This woman was equally tall and graceful, with long, wavy dark hair and familiar high cheekbones and grey eyes. The bright, open smile on her face was much more like Sirius than Narcissa, though.
Beside her was Tonks — but different. A boy version of Tonks, with spiky bright white hair. Tonks, who took one look at Harry and cursed, going wide eyed and immediately beginning to shift into a more feminine figure. "Didn't realise Harry would be here!"
"It's fine," Harry insisted. "I— Sirius explained. About your boy days. You can— you don't have to change back because I'm here." The explanation had been a bit confusing, but as per usual, Remus had been more helpful and informative, explaining that not everyone felt their insides matched their outsides, and for some people what they felt like inside changed from day to day, or didn't fit with what would usually be considered 'male' or 'female'. He had also given Harry a rather dog-eared book that was definitely of muggle origin, detailing the spectrum of gender and the many ways in which people lived on that spectrum. If, some days, Tonks felt more like a boy than a girl, Harry certainly wasn't going to kick up a fuss.
Hesitantly, Tonks transformed back into the form he'd arrived in, and Harry grinned at him, offering a thumbs up. "You look like Sirius," he commented, and Tonks laughed.
"Don't know if I'm flattered or insulted." Then he looked up at the house ahead of them, and let out a low whistle. "Blimey. Bit flash, eh?"
"Wait 'til you see the inside," Sirius replied. He stepped forward, beckoning Harry with him. "Pup, I'd like to introduce you to someone. This is my cousin, Andromeda Tonks. Andi, this is Harry Potter, Heir Black."
Andromeda Tonks smiled widely, her eyes glowing warmly. "It's very good to meet you, Heir Black. Please, call me Andi."
"I— it's nice to meet you, Andi," he stuttered, not used to adults giving him their first name so freely. "You can call me Harry." He looked back to Sirius. "What's this about, Padfoot?"
"I thought it was about time we start repairing family ties," Sirius declared. "And we needed a place to speak freely. Come on in, everyone; Ceri's got tea ready."
"Oh, Ceri's still here? Wonderful!" Andi enthused. She and Sirius led the way, chattering like long-lost family — which, Harry supposed, they were.
He fell into step beside Tonks, kicking at the snow as they walked. "This place is the best," he declared happily. "It's got everything."
"How well do you know it?" Tonks asked, frowning. "You've hardly had time to come here, I mean."
Harry looked at him, stomach twisting. If Sirius had brought them both here, that meant he intended to let them in on their secrets. And he did trust Tonks; he had written back and forth with the auror quite a bit over the term, and he seemed trustworthy. Bill and Charlie liked him, too.
"I spent most of the summer after my third year here," he confessed. "And the first half of last summer. Before the dementor attack."
Tonks gaped at him. "Really? Right under Dumbledore's nose?"
They stepped inside the entrance hall, and Harry grinned. "We've got a whole lot to catch you up on," he said, hearing Sirius bark with laughter. "An understatement if I've ever heard one," he agreed. "But it'll all make sense in a bit."
To Harry's surprise, Remus was waiting for them in the kitchen, where the table was already set with tea for five. "Andi, lovely to see you," he greeted, kissing the woman on the cheek. "It's been far too long."
"I should've known you'd be involved in whatever trouble this one's up to, Remus Lupin," she sighed exasperatedly, making Sirius grin.
"You know Moony, always the brains of the operation," he joked. "Now, pup. I think you'd best start at the beginning." His face turned serious. "Don't worry about leaving anything out. You can trust them. And Tonks' Occlumency is solid."
"Okay, then." Harry was happy to take Sirius' word for it. "Well, it all started after I blew up my aunt…"
.-.-.-.
The full story took the better part of an hour, and Tonks' hair was red with anger by the end of it. "I'd like to wring that old man's neck," he muttered. "Blocking family magics! Sending you to those people, after all he's told us about making sure you have as normal a childhood as possible?" He shook his head. Beside him, Andi too was seething.
"I always knew he was slippery as any snake. All that 'Greater Good' rubbish." She shared a knowing look with Sirius and Remus. "I don't know how much Ted or I can help, but you have us, regardless."
"Don't worry; I'm not expecting you take up arms or anything, though I do remember how lethal you can be with a Cutting curse," Sirius said to his cousin, smirking briefly. "I just wanted you to know because one day, as soon as I can, I'm going to reinstate you into the Black family proper. Or Harry will, if I can't."
Andromeda's jaw slackened. "Sirius…"
"It's long overdue, Andi," Sirius insisted. "You're a better example of a Black than half the family we've still got." The woman's face shuttered, and Sirius paused. "And… that's another thing I wanted to talk about. Narcissa's on our side."
Harry, in his storytelling, had focused on the important parts like Dumbledore's manipulations and Molly Weasley's thievery, rather than his love life. He hadn't said anything about Draco.
Andi went chalk-white, and even Tonks looked astonished. "She is? Truly?"
"She'd been here twice in the last two years," Sirius confirmed. "Practically a hostage in her own marriage, but she just wants her son to be safe and happy. And considering the little blighter is disgustingly in love with our Harry, here — that means they're both on our side."
Harry blushed bright red as both Tonks' gazes moved to him. "Draco's my boyfriend," he confirmed, grinning despite his embarrassment. "And his mum's nice. Lucius is still a prick, though."
"Language, Harry," Remus scolded mildly. Tonks snickered.
"She'd love to hear from you, Andi," Sirius said earnestly. "She misses you. She's laying low right now because of Lucius' position — and the fact that they're housing the Dark Lord himself at Malfoy Manor — but I've got ways of getting messages to her."
Harry knew he was talking about Snape.
"I… this is all a lot to take in," Andi said, looking lost. She had hardly blinked at Harry's explanation of how deep Dumbledore's plotting went, but the idea that her sister may not be as lost as she had feared had thrown her.
"Harry, cub, why don't you take Tonks and give him the grand tour," Remus suggested gently. "I think Sirius and Andromeda have some catching up to do."
Harry looked to Tonks, who wiggled his eyebrows in response. "Go on, kid. Show me around this best place ever."
On their way out, Tonks squeezed his mother's shoulder comfortingly. The pair of them stood in the grand entrance hall, and Harry looked around. "What do you want to see first?"
"What's your favourite bit?" Tonks asked in return. Harry thought about it — he liked the quidditch pitch and the pool, but it was a bit cold outside for those, and he didn't have his broom. With that in mind… "My room," he said decisively. "And the library."
"Lead the way, then," Tonks declared grandly, flinging an arm out towards the staircase. "And tell me how you fell for my little cousin."
Considering Harry had recently told the whole story to Ginny, it was remarkably easy to find his words. "He was an absolute stuck-up prat for the first two years of school," he explained, giving context that Ginny had but Tonks wouldn't. "Trying to be just like his father. But something changed in our third year… he started to learn to think for himself. And since I wasn't under the compulsions, I started to see past the Slytherin tie."
Harry led the way up the stairs, into the expansive library. "We met in secret, after curfew."
"To snog?" Tonks asked gleefully, and Harry blushed.
"Not at first. We were friends through my third year. We'd just, y'know, talk. Play cards. He taught me a lot about the Wizengamot and pureblood stuff; things that Neville didn't really know about, since his gran didn't raise him in the traditional pureblood way. He came here on my birthday that summer and according to Sirius we were really obviously fancying each other, but we hadn't figured it out yet. That didn't change until I had to face a dragon in the first task."
Tonks mock-swooned at the story of Harry and Draco's first kiss, dramatically falling into an armchair. "Ah, young love," he cried out, clutching his heart.
"Do I get to know about your secret boyfriend?" Harry asked teasingly. "Now that you know about mine?" Tonks' letters had alluded to a romantic partner several times, but never given a name.
With how pale Tonks' skin was today, it was easy to set him blushing. "If we're dishing secrets, I suppose I'd better," he sighed. "It's Kingsley."
Harry's jaw dropped. "Kingsley Shacklebolt?"
"Don't know any other Kingsleys, do you?" Tonks retorted. "Gotta keep it hushed up, though — technically he's my superior, which makes the relationship not exactly up to auror regs. But with a face like that, I couldn't help myself." He was now the one looking lovestruck.
Harry tried to imagine it; the exuberant, clumsy junior auror with the staid, intimidating bald-headed man. It was certainly an interesting pairing.
He shrugged; no weirder than Remus and Snape.
"Isn't he like, loads older than you?" he asked, brows furrowed. Tonks shrugged.
"Eighteen years; it's nothing in wizarding terms. When I'm seventy and he's eighty-eight, no one will give a toss."
Harry, used to thinking in muggle lifespans, supposed that made sense. "Fair enough."
"You don't see it, do you?" Tonks asked knowingly. Harry shrugged.
"Not really," came his apologetic response. Far from being offended, Tonks laughed.
"S'alright. Lots of people don't. Took Charlie a while, and he's always been into older blokes, so I figured he'd be the easiest to convince. But… Kings is different, when he's off duty. Not much different," he added at Harry's doubtful face. "I know he and I are chalk and cheese, but we like it that way. He keeps me grounded, and I remind him to loosen up a bit. He's got a wicked sense of humour once he stops being all stoic and unmoving and whatnot." He waved a hand. "You only see him for Order business, he's in work-mode then."
"I'll take your word for it." Kingsley had no reason to show anything but his usual stoic auror self to Harry, after all. "If you trust him, you can tell him what we've told you," he offered. "It'll be good to have another auror on board if Dumbledore escalates things. And — he's on the Wizengamot isn't he?"
"Yup," Tonks said, popping the P. "All that politics stuff goes over my head, but he loves it. He'll get a right kick out of Amelia's little niece planning to take over the whole thing; he's been saying for years they need a shake-up. Always ends up coming down to Lucius Malfoy versus Albus Dumbledore."
"I'd like to talk to him about it all sometimes, if he's willing." Harry had heard plenty from his friends, but none of the adults in his life had actual experience of sitting in a Wizengamot seat. Harry wanted to know what he was preparing himself for.
"I'll let him know," Tonks assured. Then he jumped clumsily to his feet, hair turning bright purple. "Let's see this brilliant bedroom of yours, then. Make me feel less bad about that dump at your muggles' place."
Harry grimaced at the reminder. "It's this way." He had missed his room more than he'd expected, though his room at Grimmauld was nice. Maybe he could move some of his posters over, now Sirius had taken that awful wallpaper down…
.-.-.
With the twins in charge of distractions, no one noticed Sirius and Harry had been gone for hours — when they got back, it was to see that the twins had turned the entire stairway into one giant slide. Sirius laughed, eyes bright. "I love it," he declared, and without hesitation he sat down, whooping as he went flying down the spiral slide.
The twins got a dressing down from their mother, but since no one had gotten hurt it was considered a minor incident, and life in Grimmauld moved on.
"You do what you need to do?" George asked in an undertone at the dinner table, glancing between Harry and Sirius. Harry nodded.
"Yeah, thanks."
George winked, ruffling his hair and ducking away.
With the stairs actually stairs again, Harry went back up to his room, and was surprised to see an unfamiliar owl waiting patiently on his window-sill. Harry took the letter from the owl, unfolding it in trepidation.
Harry,
Hope you're having a good Christmas. I need to talk to you when you get back to school. It's about that thing you promised Theo— he might have a few fellows there.
Warning you now so you can make any arrangements necessary. Still expecting summer at the earliest.
Best,
Blaise
Straight to the point, much like the Italian boy himself. Harry frowned — there were more Slytherins wanting sanctuary?
Harry sighed to himself, offering the owl a treat for the journey home, and then reached for his parchment and quill.
He hadn't yet written to Farlig about the matter; he had best do it now before he was back at school and it was too late.
There had to be a Potter property somewhere that he could access before he was of age, and use to house people hiding from Voldemort — and from Dumbledore. Or a Peverell property. There were too many Blacks on the dark side to risk any properties from that side of the family, as Sirius said that anything other than the two they were already using was too weakly warded to be any good.
Farlig would know. The goblin hadn't failed him yet.
.-.-.
The last week of the Christmas holidays rolled by in a rather repetitive cycle of visiting Mr Weasley, avoiding Ron and Hermione, doing homework and trying to spend as much time with Sirius and Remus before he had to go back to school.
It was fun, especially on the days when the oldest Weasley boys and Tonks would turn up. One afternoon, Kingsley stayed for a while after an Order meeting, and he winked at Harry when he saw the boy staring. Harry assumed Tonks had told him everything. He watched the pair, trying to see any signs of them dating now that he knew, but they were very good at keeping it subtle. Other than Tonks teasing the older man — which she also did to just about everyone else in the house — there was no real sign of them being any closer than colleagues, or friends.
But at last, it was the day before they were all due to go back. Harry's trunk was packed, his Christmas homework done and a pile of notes for the HA that Remus had helped him with hidden away beneath his school robes.
Sirius was hiding his sadness well, but Harry could tell his godfather wasn't looking forward to seeing him go. "You'll be alright," Harry assured him, squeezing him around the waist. "You know Bill and Charlie will come visit loads. And Tonks, too."
For some reason, Sirius blushed at that. Harry eyed him weirdly. Then he shook his head to himself; whatever that was about, he wasn't getting involved.
"Harry, dear?" Mrs Weasley stuck her head into the living room, where Harry was playing gobstones with Fred. "Can you come down to the kitchen, please? Professor Snape's here to see you."
The gobstone went flying out of Harry's hand. "Sorry?" Snape? What did he want?
"Professor Snape, dear. In the kitchen."
"What did you do?" Fred whispered, equal parts terror and awe. Harry shot him a helpless look, shrugging.
"Nothing! I don't think?"
There was only one way to find out. Harry jogged down to the kitchen, where Professor Snape was indeed waiting for him. The man was in his usual black teaching robes, and looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
Sirius was sat at the table opposite him, which probably had something to do with it. The pair were glaring at each other hatefully, and Harry pursed his lips. Were they being watched?
"You asked to see me, Professor?"
"Sit down, Potter." Snape's tone was cold. Sirius sneered.
"Don't you give him orders in my house, Snape."
Harry ignored the byplay between the two, taking a seat. Eventually, Snape turned to look at him. "The headmaster has sent me to tell you, Potter, that he wishes for me to begin instructing you in the art of Occlumency."
Harry stared blankly at Snape. The man's black eyes flashed warningly. "What's Occlumency, sir?" he asked dumbly, playing along. Whether Snape was merely worried about Extendable Ears, or something more sinister, Harry wasn't sure.
"It is an obscure branch of magic, used to defend one's mind against external penetration," Snape drawled. "You will have private instruction once a week, and should anyone else ask — even your little friends — you will tell them I am giving you Remedial Potions classes, to better your chance in scraping a passing OWL result." He smirked cruelly. "No one who has seen your performance in my class will doubt that."
That would have hurt, if Harry hadn't known he was making straight Os in Potions, despite what the grade record said.
"Why do I have to learn this thing?" he asked, projecting a heavy amount of teenage sullenness.
"Because the headmaster believes it is a good idea," Snape retorted. Harry clenched his jaw.
Dumbledore was worried about people getting into Harry's head, was he? Well, that was a change of pace.
"Now listen here, Snape," Sirius snarled. "Why do you have to be the one to teach him? Why can't Dumbledore do it."
"Because the headmaster has better things to do, Black, than try and get any form of complex instruction through Potter's thick skull."
Harry read between the lines; Dumbledore was too worried about encountering Voldemort, to go messing about in Harry's brain. That worked in his favour — this way, Harry wouldn't have to pretend not to know it.
The shouting match that brewed between Sirius and Snape grew loud enough that Harry was surprised they hadn't drawn an audience. That was explained, however, when the door burst open and the entire Weasley family plus Hermione spilled in — Mr Weasley in the very centre, wearing striped pyjamas and a raincoat. "Cured!" he announced happily. "Completely cured. Oh, I say," he added, taking in the scene in front of him. "Sorry to interrupt."
Both Sirius and Snape lowered their wands, though they continued to snarl at each other.
"What's going on here?" Mrs Weasley asked, frowning at the pair of them.
"Snivellus was just leaving," Sirius growled. Snape's eyes flashed.
"Something I'm sure you're dying to do, Mutt," he retorted. "Do us all a favour and give it a try."
The crowd of redheads watched in alarm, and Harry wondered how he was the only one who seemed to see how much both of them were enjoying goading each other.
Truly, their teenage years must have been awful, if this is what they were like when they were supposed to be 'tolerating each other'. How had Remus survived it?
Thankfully, the introduction of witnesses seemed to be enough for their little show. Snape pocketed his wand, sweeping towards the door. "Six o'clock, Monday evening, Potter," he snapped, and then he was gone.
"Blimey. What was that about?" Charlie asked, watching Sirius with concern.
"Nothing important," Sirius dismissed, a false smile still on his face, eyes shining with contempt at the doorway Snape had left through. When he looked to the dragon tamer, he softened a little, and turned his gaze to the Weasley patriarch. "Welcome back, Arthur. Glad to hear you're all healed up!"
.-.-.
The Weasley parents tried their best to make that evening's dinner a celebratory one, but considering half the house was dreading facing Umbridge the next day, it was not quite as cheerful as it could have been. Sirius was preparing his finest sulk at the prospect of Harry leaving — and failing to hold it, with Bill and Charlie nudging him into laughter whenever he looked too morose.
Charlie didn't dare flirt with him too blatantly in front of his own mother, not wanting to hear the utter tirade she would go on if she realised how he felt about Sirius. That didn't stop him from watching fondly, and bumping the older man's knee beneath the table whenever he saw him staring wistfully at Harry, who was sat with Fred and George and looked to be planning some mischief or another.
"It'll be quieter without him," he said softly into the man's ear, when Mum was busy at the stove. "But you won't be lonely."
He loved watching the tips of Sirius' ears flush red.
Further up the table, Bill looked to be having a serious conversation with their father. Charlie wondered what it was about, and strained his ears to listen in. All he caught was the word Wizengamot, but that was enough.
He and Bill had talked it over, and their dad's injury was a perfect excuse to talk to him about taking up their seats. They wanted to move soon — both of them were of the mind that Harry was being far too optimistic to think he could keep both Dumbledore and Fudge oblivious until he came of age, and the more trustworthy seats they held before shit hit the fan, the better.
From the look on Bill's face, though, the conversation wasn't going well. Their father didn't consider the seats a burden at all, not when he left all his voting to Dumbledore.
"It's our birthright, Dad," Charlie heard Bill say. "I know we're young, but we're ready for it. You've got enough on your plate."
Charlie caught his older brother's eye, silently asking if he needed back-up. Bill shook his head minutely, then gave him a smirk that Charlie translated as stay over there and keep flirting.
Well, if Bill insisted…
Leaving the curse-breaker to it, Charlie reached nonchalantly past Sirius for the water jug. He could've summoned it, but that wouldn't let him lean in close to Sirius' shoulder, getting a faint whiff of the man's spicy aftershave. "'Scuse me," he murmured, only a little smug. Sirius shot him an unimpressed look.
"Like you don't know what you're doing," he muttered, making Charlie laugh quietly.
"Guilty," he confessed freely. "Go ahead and tell me to stop."
Sirius was silent, and triumph bubbled in Charlie's belly.
The older man didn't think Charlie was serious. Charlie could tell that from day one. But he'd been drawn to the dog animagus since the first time they'd met — once he'd got over the ingrained fear of seeing actual Sirius Black, the man he'd been told was a crazed mass-murderer.
He was hot, and had been fun to have a bit of a flirt with, since all of Charlie's usual flirting targets were back in Romania and he hadn't warmed up to the Welsh crew enough to know who would be welcome to it.
Charlie hadn't expected to develop feelings.
But he had, and Bill had noticed, and Tonks had noticed, and the pair of them were insufferable about it, and Charlie was trying his best but Sirius seemed determined to see him off. Not because he wasn't interested — Charlie knew what that look in a man's eye meant, and Sirius was no good at hiding it — but because his own self-worth was so low he didn't think he was worth Charlie's time.
"I like those jeans, by the way," he said quietly, giving as long a look as he dared at the man's lap with the rest of his family in the room. "They new?"
"Yeah," Sirius replied, ears still flushed, "Did a bit of owl-ordering. And had Remus pick up a few things for me."
"Good to hear." Charlie glanced around to check if anyone was watching, and leaned in a bit closer. "Any miniskirts in the mix? You did say you look fabulous in them. I'd like to see that."
Sirius choked on his mashed potato. Charlie clapped him on the back, smirking when the last hit was more of a caress. "Steady on."
"You're a cruel man, Charlie Weasley," he coughed, and Charlie gave his best charming grin, dimples at full force.
"Now that's just not true at all."
He would change Sirius' mind. He would get him to see that they could be great together, if given the chance.
The last time he'd been set on something as keenly as he was set on Sirius Black, it had been his desire to work with dragons. And look how that had ended up.