I promised myself years ago that I'd never join the 'Harry Potter' fandom, yet here I am, writing one after several years since the movies ended. Needless to say I'm caught between shame and pride here. I even remember when the books came out when I was a kid but when the movies came out… frickin' exploded! And all of them about the magical franchise and all done by amateurs it made me ill. Well, now I join them, and hope them to be greatly impressed. I don't own HP and I don't plan on it. The books and DVDs are good enough for me.

"Iii" = speech

'Iii' = text/sign speech

Iii = though

Chapter 1: From the Shadows

Summer was slowly fading, making the night wondrously cool to the lone figure walking down the street with a bag of groceries in his arms with a hood covering his head and face from anyone who might spy him out and about. At his feet, the wind blew a few leaves freshly fallen across the cement and tarmac to dance under the lamplight before falling down like the botanical corpses they were. Walking past them, the raven-haired, green eyed teenage boy of sixteen barely gave them a second glance. In his gloved hands he held a paper bag of groceries from the local store that was open twenty-four hours, which worked well with his need to remain unseen. Ever since leaving the Dursleys as an emancipated minor, Harry Potter had taken up living in Godric's Hollow near where his parents' house used to be. Very few people knew he was there and when he was out and about, he kept his visage covered in case of the wayward stranger who might recognize him. Not his face, or even the fact that he was a teen, but the scar on his forehead that he got not even fifteen years earlier. As far as he knew, absolutely no one knew who he was and where he lived and that was just fine with him. He liked being anonymous, unknown and hard to find. At least, when it came to people in general. To the wizarding world, he was an icon of the impossible, of the defeat of a greatly feared enemy of their version of life that people scrambled like mad when just the mere utterance of his name floated through the air amongst them. Godric's Hollow being a place where wizards and witches lived, hiding his face had become a regular occurrence, day or night, snow or rain. If anyone did manage to corner him, he either used an invisibility spell or apparated away hoping the person wouldn't follow him. After casting wards and other spells, Harry was glad that most from their secret world had finally gotten the hint: he didn't want to be disturbed. A gust of wind made the raven-haired boy shiver, the coming autumn chill threatening to go right through his thin coat as he moved down the street toward his house, snuggling his pale nose into his scarf. Though he had yet to get a job, his house was paid for by his family's account, a convenience that assisted Harry's reclusive lifestyle. Approaching his door, the boy merely sent a thought forth, laced with magic and it swung gently open to let him through before closing again once he was inside.

Though it was dark inside, he knew the house in and out, easily navigating the darkness to head for his kitchen to set the bag down on the counter with a tired sigh. Without turning, the teenager felt the presence of another person in the room with him, acting casual as he used the motion of removing his gloves to bring his want to hand. The polished eleven inch stalk of holly was a deep brown with knots to tell the handle from the rest of it, sliding easily from his sleeve before he whipped around to send angry red and yellow sparks powered by the phoenix feather at the wand's core at the intruder. The burst of color and light, rather than blinding the unwelcome guest, revealed an elderly looking man, hair and beard pure white and his face wrinkled with his age. Blinking his surprise, Harry rushed to get the light switch to reveal Albus Dumbledore standing in his kitchen, the elderly wizard dressed in modestly regal robes of cream. Smiling, the elderly mage didn't seem all that perturbed at what the scrawny teen had tried to do.

"Hello Harry." The man stated kindly, a smile matching his tone already on his lips.

Bashful at his actions, Harry merely nodded.

"That's quite alright, I understand. I wasn't expecting to come myself but I knew you'd be up right about now. You wouldn't have any tea by any chance?"

The raven-haired boy nodded, pointing at the table as he started to get his coat off. "Why thank you." Dumbledore said as he accepted the offer of a seat at the small square table that made up a small percentage of the room. Despite being made by Muggles, he found the chair was comfortable and well made, content to watch his host settle into his routine of unpacking his weekly groceries. Soon enough, the kettle was howling and two fresh mugs of tea were set on the table between them as Harry finally sat down across from the elderly man. With him was a pad and a marker, the ink stinking up the small space as the boy began to write to show to his guest to read. 'What can I do for you?'

Sipping at the mug of hot tea, the elderly wizard spoke in a patient tone. "I was hoping to talk you into attending Hogwarts this year. I know I said I'd let you come at your own discretion and that making you welcome wouldn't be difficult, but surely you must feel the need by now. Many young people your age are anxious to finally meet you."

The raven-haired boy blinked at his guest, not having to look at the calendar on the wall to know what day it was. It was late August and the new term was going to start in a few days on September the first. The fact it'd snowed early where he lived didn't help that he'd lost track of what day it was. Like for the past few years Dumbledore asked, Harry wrote. 'Sorry but no. Not the way I am.'

Frowning deeply, the elderly magus couldn't help but let his regret show through his crystal blue eyes. "Harry, you can't let your condition limit your life. Your parents would be devastated to know you've waited this long." At that, Harry looked away, making the elderly man sigh. "But alas, I know I can't force you. I'll be sure the needed texts and supplies are sent to you for this year's curriculum. Like before, should you need anything, just send an owl and the professors and I shall answer as best we can."

Erasing his previous message with the small rag, Harry wrote. 'I know. Thank you. Did you want to talk about anything else?'

"Only on how you're doing. It's been a while since I've come to see you." Albus admitted with a sheepish smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

At that, Harry smiled a little, nodding as he started writing. Though he knew sign language, he found writing was better for the aging wizard, knowing the hand movements might well be ancient runes to the man. They ended up 'talking' for up to an hour before the elderly wizard made his exit, moving to stand by the back door, smiling once again. "Goodbye Harry, I'll try to visit you in a few weeks like always. Take care won't you?"

The teen nodded, waving goodbye just as the elderly man disapparated with a whoosh of air and color. Collecting their mugs, now half empty and the tea cold, Harry went back to his routine with a vengeance. Cleaning the mugs and putting them away, the boy made sure the house was secure before heading to his basement where he kept his wizarding things from books to potion ingredients. He lost days down in the oddly expansive space, figuring out how everything from the hidden world worked. Needless to say he was probably far ahead his fellow students in nearly anything except a few of the extra classes, a number of which he held little interest. History was boring, astronomy was dangerously close to the muggle science, and he never had a head for predicting the future. Instead he focused on spells and their counters, poisons and their cures and creatures and their dangers. It was a wonder he didn't blow up half the house trying to transfigure the simple objects he practiced with but after many to-and-fro correspondence with the Gryffindor House Head and Transfiguration professor McGonagall, this became easier after receiving a number of howler-like letters that spoke in the aging witch's lilted voice. Hearing the woman explain it rather than read it helped Harry immensely and he wrote back telling her so with the promise of writing again if he had other issue. Now, three years later, he was doing well on his own. This worked for the other teachers at the renowned school though not for the potions' master Snape, whose dull droning had Harry caught between falling asleep and wondering what was bothering the man. Every letter from him made Harry think the man was quietly angry or that was his natural tone. In the end, he didn't question it, not about to point out such a detail to a potentially volatile man who was teaching him what he needed long-distance.

Almost three months later, snow was coming down in soft bits of fluff, forced by gravity and their own miniscule weight to come down to earth at an almost graceful pace. Since it was nighttime, the vision was made all the more beautiful against the dark sky and the bright street lamps that cast a strong yellow and white light across the ground and the small radius the small bulb covered. And the only one outside to see this spectacle was Harry, his brilliant green eyes watching a certain flake come spinning and spiraling down. Like a dancer, the frozen water speck swayed lazily with no wind to direct it until it was lost to its countless friends on the ground beneath his winter boots. Looking up, his glasses reflecting the light of the lamp, the boy stood for another moment to see if another large flake would appear. When one didn't, he let out a quiet huff and continued his trek through the snow toward a house near the end of the street. As he did every week, Harry had gone shopping for the essentials at the store he frequented, the bag heavy in his grip which was made harder with the deep chill that'd overcome the town. Walking down the street to his house as he did every time, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. It didn't help that his scar had hurt a few weeks before, coupled with horrible dreams that had him waking in a sweat. He'd sent an owl to Dumbledore mere moments later as he was instructed to do and to his bafflement, the elderly mage had yet to reply. Unsure of what else to do, Harry could only rely on his almost saint-like patience and wait for the wizard to send a message in kind.

Yet he couldn't shake that nagging feeling that something was amiss, even as he willed his door to open and didn't hesitate to step inside. Once within the main hall of his humble abode, Harry froze at the sense that there was indeed something wrong: there were strangers in his house, more specifically, his kitchen. This was as alarming as it was confusing since he knew only Dumbledore ever appeared there and yet the elderly wizard's presence was absent from the small group of people. Caught between rushing in to face them and sneaking in to get a look at them, Harry decided it best to retreat until he could better asses just who these people were and why they were there. Since his aging guardian had yet to answer his missives, he could only assume that something was wrong and the people now in his house were up to no good. Setting the bag of food down on the floor next to the door as quietly as possible, Harry's hand went for the doorknob just as soon as his hands were free to open it again. Maybe if he started running now, he'd make it down the street before they noticed that he'd returned. No such luck as someone in the distant space had wandered past the door leading to the main hall with only the dim light over the sink to give Harry a silhouette of the person. The man, if the size and build was to go by, was at least 5' if not higher, was dressed in mostly black with matching hair that fell in lazy curls. His face was hidden by the shadows but the fact he noticed Harry wasn't lost on either of them, especially when he called out loudly. "Hey!"

Harry didn't wait for the person to say more, already throwing the door wide and running out into the snow, all else forgotten. He didn't care how loud he was now, only that he got away from whatever number of pursuers he had following him. Behind him, their voices, echoing through the night, were distant murmurs to his ear as he ran. All he heard was the huffing of his own breath and the crunch of snow under his boots while his mind raced on what to do. Before he could come up with something, a person suddenly apparated right in his path, the man he recognized from down the hall. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness of the night, making it easy for Harry to see the man's face was thin, almost gaunt but held a healthy color against his black mustache and beard ghosting across his chin. Grey eyes widened at seeing how Harry didn't slow in his running, instead charging at him with as much speed he could muster to strike him down. Harry knew he had little chance but the martial arts training he'd gotten from a local dojo and his deceptively strong frame put him roughly on equal footing with his opponent. In seconds they collided, the man letting out a loud grunt as he was sent down to the ground and onto his back. Before the man could recover, Harry was up and going again, ignoring the man's shouts as he bounded into the trees of the forest surrounding the Hollow. Weaving through the trees, the teen stumbled when the man reappeared again, apparating just next to him to tackle him with as much of his body weight as possible. They both fell to the snow-covered ground in a tangle of limbs, the older man growling in his efforts to keep Harry from squirming under him as they struggled. Only Harry wasn't about to give up, his mind already listing the different spells he could use to get the man off. The perfect one came to forth, the teen immediately putting it to use.

Alarte Ascendare! He shouted in his mind with the voice he didn't have, the spell sending his unknown opponent flying in the trees with a cry of surprise. Going by the outcry of other voices, it was safe to say he'd sent the man flying into his friends somewhere in the brush. Harry didn't wait to scramble to his feet, barely going a few feet before a new voice caught his attention as it called softly through the dark. "Harry? Harry dear, where are you?"

Like a moth to a flame, Harry bounded toward the voice, hoping it wasn't some trick as he searched for the source to find it was indeed who he thought: standing in the nearest clearing was a rather plump woman with her fiery red hair poking out from under her green hat which matched her green coat. Same as every time he saw her, the woman was smiling with kindness and sympathy in her brown eyes. Harry didn't need his wand to know it was her, his senses telling him she wasn't an illusion or someone pretending to be her. Dumbledore had made certain he could tell, even without magic. His breaths coming out in short gasps at the long run, Harry started to sign at her with one hand, not about to put his wand away with so many strangers around. Like always, the woman was two steps ahead of him. "Come now Harry, gather yourself. We just came to talk to you."

Harry blinked, frozen as the woman's words failed to process. 'Talk?'

The one and only Molly Weasley smiled ruefully, her hands on her hips in clear irritation at the situation. "Yes dear, and I warned them that coming in uninvited wouldn't end well for anyone. Clearly they should've listened to me."

Too confused to comprehend just what she was telling him, Harry asked. 'Who's they?'

"Why my friends of course! They came quite a ways to see you." Molly said with a much happier smile, the crunch of snow and dry twigs catching their attention as she called out. "Ah, here they are now! Over here Arthur!"

From the brush and into the clearing came an equally aged man with flame red hair visible from under the edges of his cap, his face sagging with relief as she called back to her with each step forward. "Molly, thank gods. Is that him?" he asked, pausing at the sight of Harry.

"It is, and you lot have gone and spooked him, is what you've done." Molly stated to the newcomer, only for the appearance of another red-haired man, thin and shorter than the first to cause Harry to move in front of Molly, his wand held up like a weapon. Clicking her tongue, Molly hit the raven-haired teen on the shoulder, frowning. "That'll be enough of that. Can't have you hexing my husband and son all willy-nilly now can I?"

"Mum, you know him?" the latest addition to the party asked, brown eyes glancing between the woman and Harry. Going by the way Molly called him 'son', the teen was likely the same age as him, even if his hair was a mess of red.

Behind him, Molly was talking again. "Of course I do! Albus made sure of it once we got him away from that horrible family he'd been placed with. I'm sure once you put your wands away he'll be inclined to do the same. Am I right, dear?"

Harry didn't want to give in so easily but ultimately lowered his arm just enough to be less threatening, still standing just in front of Molly to act as a human shield if any of them tried anything. He still didn't like that he was outnumbered and they still had their wands in hand. And it certainly didn't help that the man from earlier had recovered and had joined them, oddly distraught at seeing Harry pointing a wand in his direction. Grey eyes moved to the woman behind the teen, voice broken with emotion. "Molly, does he-?"

"He's only known me and Albus, Sirius. You know why. Anyone else and he's been told to run, like he did just now. But we're done with that aren't we Harry? Why don't we go back and have some tea! Albus tells me you make a good cup or two." Molly said cheerily, putting her arm out for the boy to take hold of. When Harry didn't do take her arm, she affirmed. "It's alright, he's a friend. Let's just get you back indoors. This chill can't be good for anyone your age. Lumos!" she called, her wand's tip lighting up to shine away the darkness.

"Molly, why-?" the man named Sirius began to say, his eyes desperately glancing between the two, obviously frustrated at how Harry had his face hidden.

"Not now, Sirius." Molly quickly admonished the man, silencing him, patiently waiting for Harry to escort her down the hill.

Momentarily reassured, Harry looped his arm with hers, wand hidden away so he could sign to her. 'You didn't tell them?'

'No, but soon.' She signed back, her face grim when hidden away from the others.

Harry didn't respond at first, as if pondering how to react. To her relief, when he did all he said was. 'Okay.'

The trek back to the house took longer than it'd taken to run up the hill but Molly didn't seem to mind, knowing her calm demeanor would keep her ward at ease with the small number of strangers she'd brought with her. She could only hope the boy didn't react just as badly to the people still in the house, waiting for their return. Once they were in roughly fifty feet of the house, Harry stopped to tilt his head in puzzlement before pulling against Molly's gentle hold on his arm. The Weasley matriarch acted quickly, smiling again to calm the lanky teenager. "It's alright dear, we're all from the Order. You remember what I told you about them?"

The teen nodded before reluctantly walking again, his shoulders stiff even under his winter coat. Behind him, Sirius Black couldn't help but feel a mixture of pride and sadness that his godson was able to sense people of magic from such a distance. Already waiting for them at the door was two of their fellow companions, Molly's oldest son Bill and Ron's classmate and girlfriend Hermione Granger. Though Bill was thin for his age, he made up for it with his witty intelligence and quick thinking, not to mention the long scar on his left cheek. Hermione, like Ron, was still a bit short but coming into her true height, her brown hair usually a curly mess held back in a tail and hidden by her coat. More to Sirius's despair, Harry flinched when Ron moved to pass his mother and him to greet the only other girl in their group but otherwise seemed to ignore them. Sure enough the two teens were muttering to one another, Hermione clearly displeased with Ron's action to go running after Harry with little idea on what to do about the fleeing teen. They fell silent as Harry and Molly drew near, Harry once again reluctant to be so close to strangers who'd come from nowhere, causing Molly to reassure him that there was no danger and they were all friends. Almost immediately, Hermione's face was twisted in confusion. "Is that him?"

"It is dear. Why don't we all go inside before we all catch cold? He gave us quiet a run through the snow after all."

To Harry's relief, the girl accepted the answer with a frown, turning away to walk back into the house with Ron not far behind. Once again, Harry paused at how Bill remained in the doorway, much to the teen's irritation. Molly must've misinterpreted his action as fear for she was talking in that soft tone of hers. "It's alright Harry, this is my oldest son Bill. He's one of the best in our ranks."

Harry nodded slowly, accepting this information before pointing with a gloved hand at the space just behind the older man, making the pair look around in confusion. Bill must've spotted the object of his focus for the man bent over to fill the quiet with the rustle of paper before smiling back at them. "I've got it. Looks like our timing was off Mum."

"That's what I said from the start!" Molly protested, though the hint of amusement took the ire out of her words.

"And you were right, as always dear." Arthur said from somewhere behind them, humor evident in his tone.

Smiling from beneath his disguise, Harry ignored them in favor of getting back into his routine, even when he saw there were indeed more people in his kitchen who were staring at him unabashedly. As he let Bill put the bag on the counter, Harry could hear Molly start to scold the onlookers who consisted of a rather beautiful blonde woman dressed in what looked like the latest in French magical fashion. Standing by the backdoor was the real surprise to Harry: identical twin men with flame red hair, with only their slightly differing clothes to tell them apart. It was almost like Ms. Molly had brought half of her family with her! Forcing himself to keep his cool, Harry moved like a robot in getting his latest purchases put away, ignoring how some were still staring at him curiously for not removing his winter gear. As he worked to get the kettle on and the mugs out, Molly was already babbling. "My, it's been ages since I've been here. Have you cleaned lately Harry?"

'Yes.' He signed, though he didn't look away from what he was doing.

"Oh? When?" the Weasley matriarch questioned, sounding honestly curious.

'A week ago. It was getting dusty in here, made me sneeze.'

This answer made her chuckle. "I'm sure it did."

Now seated next to her, Ron glanced between the pair in confusion. "Mum, what're you talking about? Why's he doin' that with his hands?"

Seated to Ron's left, Hermione hit the boy on the arm with an annoyed huff. "Shut up Ron. It's sign language, used for the mute and the deaf among muggles. I'm surprised he's using it though. Isn't he magic, like us?"

At that, both Harry and Molly stiffened, the older woman eventually saying. "Harry dear, maybe it's time you took your things off now."

Turning to face her, Harry began to sign. 'I'd rather not-.'

"Please don't argue with me Harry, and we both know it's best to get it out of the way. Can you at least try?" the room was eerily silent, with only the light howl of the wind to fill the quiet as the room's occupants watched Harry for his response. When the teen finally nodded, Molly looked at her son still standing in the kitchen with him. "Bill, give him a hand would you?"

"Sure." Bill responded easily, waiting until Harry had his gloves off and was unzipping his coat before taking it from him. It wasn't until the raven-haired teen took his scarf off, one of many things given to him by Molly, did he gape and mutter. "Dear gods."

Only Molly didn't react though the pity was evident in her kind brown eyes: stretching from the edge of the right side of his chin and down past his shirt collar was a large red scar, making him look almost burned and that the wound was still fresh. Long and ragged, the mark was a stark contrast from his pale skin as well as his almost emerald green eyes. Short black hair was revealed when he finally took his hat off, the teen not reacting as he gathered his things, nodding at Bill in thanks as he took his coat back, and promptly left the room. As he did, Molly's voice followed him like a phantom. "Harry is a talented young man but even he couldn't stand against a group of Death Eaters by himself. As I understand, his Muggle relatives saw the whole fight, his uncle lost in the fighting but still fought valiantly to shield his aunt and cousin. They've since been hidden away, same as him. You'll understand when I ask you try not to stare too much, it makes him uncomfortable."

"How can he perform magic if he can't speak?" he heard the Hermione ask, sounding in awe of his capabilities.

Molly's voice was stern but by no means harsh as she responded. "His magic is strong, even for a half-blood like him, which just makes him all the more remarkable. He was most shy when he and I were first introduced but he's clearly warmed up to me since then. It might take him longer with you lot but that's how it is."

"Explains why he ran, and attacked us." Sirius grumbled, his voice echoing in Harry's ear even though he was upstairs in his room, putting a sweater on since he'd yet to turn the heat back on.

"Instinct, my dear. For all he knew, we were enemies and he our target. As much as it pains me to say, Dumbledore wanted to be sure he wouldn't be found before he was ready." He heard Molly tell the man, their voices growing in volume as he came down the stairs.

"And now?" Bill asked his mother, his tone denoting his curiosity.

"That's why we're here. To see if he's ready." Molly said, turning with a smile when Harry came walking back in. "Harry, there you are. Ready for a cup?"

The raven nodded, more chairs appearing with a wave of his hand, the table even shifting to fit them all, the square stretching into a rectangle. Molly didn't seem all that bothered by the change even though everyone else gaped before controlling themselves.

"Bill, give him a hand would you dear?" Molly instructed, not all that bothered by Harry's actions in the slightest.

"Yes mum." The eldest Weasley responded, pulling out mugs at the raven's silent instruction as he got the water boiling thanks to another wave of his hand. In moments, everyone was at the table with a mug of tea, Harry seeming comfortable with Molly seated on his right while Fleur tried not to be awkward on his left.

"So Harry, what have you been up to these days?" Molly asked cheerily, in order to break the quiet that'd once again fallen over the room.

Harry shrugged, signing with one hand as he sipped at his tea. 'Not much, schoolwork mostly. But that's not why you're here.'

"No, no it's not." The red-haired woman responded somberly before brightening again, if a little. "Harry, this is my husband Arthur, my sons Bill and his wife Fleur, Fred, George and Ron with his girlfriend Hermione…as well as your godfather, Sirius." She said, pointing out each person by name, said person nodding at him in response and each trying to smile without seeming nervous or threatening.

Of all their expressions, Sirius's seemed to be the shakiest, as if he were struggling with keeping himself from unraveling. "It's not too late for a proper hello is it?" he asked softly from his seat, unable to ignore the way Harry stared at him with mixed wonder and bafflement.

Finally registering the question, the raven-haired teen smiled weakly at the older man while signing. 'Hello.' Molly translated so no one was confused by the teen's gestures, Sirius giving Harry a teary smile.

"He was hoping to meet you on better terms than…what happened outside but now that we have introductions aside, it's best to get to business." Molly stated, regret painting her face at breaking the moment. "To be honest, Dumbledore sent us to take you with us."

Harry's gaze snapped back onto the older woman, the teen quickly signing. 'What? Did something happen?'

"We don't know for certain but with things as they are now, it's safe to say things might be escalating. And the Order just wants to be sure you're someplace we can keep an eye on you…or a better one anyway."

'Why can't I just stay here?' Harry asked, confusion furrowing his brow.

"Because no one knows if it'll be safe for much longer. If it's any consolation, you'll be living with Sirius. He is legally obligated to watch over you, even if he has missed the first seventeen years." Molly explained, said man nodding in affirmation of this. "I'll explain later but the most I can say is that you need to pack what you need so we can get going. You don't mind going by broom do you?"

Harry sat still a moment before finally signing. 'No, but going at night might be dangerous. It might be safer to go in the morning.'

"Ever the thinker, you are! But are you sure you have enough room for everyone?" Molly asked, her mental blueprint of the house finding it wanting for so many people.

At that, Harry smiled knowingly before sipping at his tea. 'Don't worry about it.'

In the end, Harry proved to be the ultimate gentleman, giving his bed to Molly, the spare bedroom to Hermione and Fleur while the small collection of men found places to sleep in the living room. Once everyone was settled in, Harry went down to the basement to sleep in the cot he had set up there for when he was too busy with schoolwork to go upstairs or he was resting from working. He had been on the edges of sleep when the creak of the wooden staircase woke him right up again, instinct making him grab for his wand and casting Lumos. The person revealed turned out to be Sirius, the older man blinking under the brightness of the magical light in his eyes. Embarrassed, Harry put out the light and moved to turn on his work lamp instead, giving the older man a questioning look. Even in the dimness of the room, Sirius looked awkward standing on the stairs, unsure of what to do with himself. "I didn't mean to wake you," he said, clearly at odds with what to say. "But I couldn't help myself. Could we talk?"

Not about to leave the man standing there, Harry waved him in, moving to the large board he had set up by the wall. It was a dry-erase board, meaning it was easy to clean and the markers only stank when they were uncapped. Picking one up and flipping the board over since the side facing them was covered in notes, he wrote on the clean side, nose wrinkling at the chemical odor as he wrote. 'About what?'

"Well, anything really. I knew your parents and I was…waylaid before I could get to know you." Sirius muttered distractedly, his thin face pulled in a sheepish smile. "I guess I'm just trying to make up for lost time."

Harry nodded at this but still frowned before writing. 'Why not wait until tomorrow?'

"Anxiety I guess? You look like your father but with your mother's eyes…the image is hard to ignore. It's like they're alive, if in a different package."

'I've only seen photos of them. They seem nice.'

At that, Sirius smiled warmly, grey eyes losing their focus to memory. "Yes, they were kind people. And they would've doted on you like any parent should. But after what he did, you lost that chance. Even more so when I was framed for murder."

The raven-haired teen tilted his head. He would've known if someone had recently died by his godfather's hands if it was in the 'Daily Prophet' his snow owl Hedwig brought him every day. 'Murder?'

Sirius scowled darkly at the word, not hesitating to explain himself. "A man I once thought was a friend turned on me and your parents, got them killed and me imprisoned when I confronted him. He's since been dealt with but the authorities are still a bit touchy about me being free."

Harry didn't move for a moment, the older man shifting as if unnerved by the teen's unblinking stare before he wrote out. 'Did you tell them the truth?'

"Of course I did but no one believed me until we brought the real culprit to them. I'm still on probation of sorts." Sirius told him.

'They don't trust you?' Harry asked, seeming more curious than suspicious.

"It's hard to trust people with everything going on." The older raven frowning. "And many don't want to believe that he's coming back."

Harry stiffened, also frowning deeply. 'Is that why all of you came?'

At once Sirius's expression softened, clearly regretting bringing up such a dark thing in their 'conversation'. "Everyone in the Order just wants to be sure you're safe, to make sure he can't try again if he ever does. I'm sure Molly has explained that to you."

'She has. I still don't like it.' Harry wrote, his expression showing his displeasure over the whole thing.

Sirius couldn't help but smile at that, chuckling low in his throat. "No one does Harry, it's just how things are."

'Then things need to change.' The teen wrote, underlining the words, smiling when Sirius had to keep from letting out a roar of a laugh at the exclamation.

Getting his humor under control, Sirius smiled broadly at his godson. "You're really one for words aren't you?" the sheepish smile and half shrug he got from Harry was answer enough. The moment gone, regret painted itself onto the older man's features. "I should head back up. See you in the morning Harry."

Waving goodbye to his godfather, Harry waited until the man was up the stairs and through the door before turning the light off and returning to bed. All things considered, he had a feeling what came tomorrow would be interesting indeed.

A little longer than I normally allow but long enough to give this a good start! Certainly an interesting addition to my arsenal but hey, at least I finally got around to it right? Anyway, let's take a look at what's to come:

Next chapter:

Chapter 2: Roll With The Punches

Harry is about to start a new chapter in his life and things are already getting crazy, what with the Weasley clan everywhere, a godfather he never knew about and an evil plot to take over the wizarding world the thwart, it's a wonder he can catch his breath! With new friends, allies and enemies, let's see if Harry has what it takes to:

Chapter 2: Roll With The Punches!