The End of the Innocence

O' beautiful, for spacious skies
But now those skies are threatening
They're beating plowshares into swords
For this tired old man that we elected king
Armchair warriors often fail
And we've been poisoned by these fairy tales
The lawyers clean up all details
Since daddy had to lie
- The End of the Innocence, Don Henley

Harry Potter was twenty-five when the world found him again. He had spent the last six years of his life successfully avoiding nearly everything having to do with the Wizarding World. He'd even changed his name.

That didn't stop Sirius from finding him, of course. Harry'd always wondered how his godfather had found him, but he never thought to ask. And after having him around, Harry found he really didn't mind the company. It was nice to be around someone who loved him. As Harry. Quirks and foibles and cracks and all. A whole. So, Sirius finding him wasn't a problem.

He didn't expect Minerva McGonagall to find him.

"Harry," she'd smiled brightly in greeting. "We've missed you." She seemed older than Harry remembered her, the lines on her face had deepened, and it seemed that her glasses were thicker. The most obvious change was her hair: it was graying. She was wearing long flowing purple robes, with a small patch of the Hogwarts crest. Harry bit his lip.

"Harry, who is -" Sirius had stopped talking as he walked out of his bedroom. They'd conjured the extra bedroom into the cottage right around the six-month point of his "visit." Gave them both a bit more room, and Sirius wasn't hurting his back sleeping on the sofa or floor anymore. Harry still remembered the days after Sirius had been freed and he would wander into his godfather's room to find him curled up, in his Animagus form, on the floor. Old habits did die hard. Harry had been glad to see that habit leave the older man. "Headmistress."

"May I come in?" Harry nodded, opening the door. He noticed Sirius' expression getting very closed - the same expression he had any time one of Harry's boyfriends left him. The expression that very clearly said "I know Harry's going to get hurt." He hadn't seen it for a while. His last boyfriend, Adam, had been nearly 2 years ago. He'd just never found someone who suited him since then. Harry wondered if Sirius's presence had somehow spoiled him. He looked again at his godfather's expression, the lines, and the flatness. It ran contrary to the way Sirius should be. Harry never knew what to think of that expression, but today, he found himself oddly grateful for it.

"Would you like something to drink?" Sirius asked politely, gesturing McGonagall to the sofa.

"Certainly."

"I'll get it, Harry. The usual?"

"Please," Harry told his godfather. He sat down in the green recliner next to the sofa. Damned if he was going to share a seat with her. The silence was stilted until Sirius came back; water for McGonagall and himself, and rum for Harry.

"It is good to see you, Harry," McGonagall said. She was toying with her glass, holding it with both hands and swirling the water. A tiny vortex. He hoped that wasn't what she was going to do to his life. "And you as well, Sirius."

Harry sighed. "Can we dispense with the small talk? What do you want?"

McGonagall blinked, seeming taken aback. Harry snorted. He wasn't eleven anymore, what did they expect? Sirius moved to stand behind him. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder, and squeezed. Harry took a drink of his rum. "Perhaps that's best." McGonagall sighed. "Harry, we need you."

"I could figure that out for myself. Why?"

"After you defeated You-Know-Who," McGonagall began.

"Say his name," Sirius cut her off. "He's dead. Say his name." Harry nodded.

She took a shaky breath. "After you killed... Voldemort, the power vacuum left behind was quickly filled. Only this time they went through the Ministry - using it rather than terror to accomplish their goals."

"I believe that's called 'change,'" Harry said. He finished the rest of his rum in one swallow. "What does it have to do with me?"

"They're targeting and eliminating all purebloods." McGonagall's tone took a bitter note as continued. "Under the guise, of course, of preventing another Voldemort. Mandatory public executions. We're heard that they'll be targeting Hogwarts professors and pupils next. And then revealing us to the Muggle world. It's disastrous."

Harry nodded slowly, thinking about what she was saying. "What does the general populace think?"

McGonagall snorted. "Most of them don't. To speak out is to be targeted."

"Who is behind it?" Sirius spoke up. Harry realized that his godfather's hand was digging almost painfully into his shoulder. Sirius suspected something.

"Ron, Hermione, and Ginny Weasley."

Harry closed his eyes. Those were names he hadn't heard in seven years. "They're dead."

McGonagall nodded. "Apparently Miss Weasley had talked about this plan with her brother and Miss Granger at their wedding."

"Wedding?" The shock in Sirius's voice was evident. Harry sighed. He hadn't known either.

"Miss Weasley had the paperwork to prove it. She says she's doing it to honor their memory." McGonagall took a sip of water. "She's engaged now, you know."

"Oh?" Harry heard himself say faintly. What he really wanted to do was hustle his old professor out of the house, pack, and move to the other side of the world. Go someplace where they wouldn't have to find him. He didn't really want to be the Boy Who Lived To Kill. Not again.

"Yes, her fiancée, Colin Creevey, is assisting her."

"No one has pointed out the hypocrisy?" Harry asked.

McGonagall nodded her head. "At the beginning, yes. But the Weasleys have always firmly been on the side of Light, and strong Muggle supporters. Their targets weren't as widespread."

"Ah." There wasn't much Harry could say to that. "Please leave."

"I'll come back tomorrow." Harry heard the clink of McGonagall's glass being set on the coffee table and then her footsteps as she walked away.

Harry kept his eyes closed tightly shut. He heard Sirius sigh. The older man moved so that he was kneeling in front of Harry. He felt Sirius's hands on his knees. "Harry?" Harry opened his eyes and looked at Sirius. The older man, complete with crow's feet and laugh lines, was concentrating solely on him. Worried solely about him. "You don't have to go back just because they say so."

"I know."

Sirius reached out and gently brushed Harry's scar with his fingertips. "I know that you may thing so, but you don't owe them anything. You never did."

"I know."

Harry inhaled as Sirius's fingers trailed down from the scar to his cheek. His pale eyes were calm and refused to unlock with Harry's own. "You told me you left because you'd been formed and used. Like a tool."

"I know."

Sirius's left hand grabbed Harry's right, and squeezed tightly. Harry gripped back. "You wanted to know who you were. Do you?"

Harry considered the question. "Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think you know yourself?"

Harry watched as Sirius cocked his head, thinking. His hands stayed where they were, and Harry found the warmth comforting. Finally the left corner of Sirius's mouth quirked up. "As much as anyone does, I suppose."

Harry smiled back. "Thank you for being here." He squeezed his godfather's hand.

Sirius laughed. "Where else would I be?"